-May 10-
I remember when I was a "normal" girl.
I was happy in my "normal" marriage.
Hubby was the one who convinced me to morph.
I was so resistant and reluctant, now I'm a freak.
Hubby opened the door, now, I reap the enjoyment.
I get better sex than any of my girlfriends, by far.
I'm a secret slut hiding behind that "normal" girl they knew before.
They're talking about their marriage troubles and disconnections.
They roll their eyes at their husbands' high sex drives.
I quietly smile and nod, playing along with their narrative.
As they talk, I shoot a group text to hubby and boyfriend:
"The girls are complaining that their husbands want too much sex."
They both "lol" back.
"You can both take me as much as you want as often as you want."
They both send tasteful emoticons.
"Who wants me first, tonight?"
Boyfriend...
"I'm gonna fill your tight kitty with milk...
...while your hubby's cock fills your ass."
Not bad. Hubby had other ideas still...
"I want you to 'accidentally' send one of those girls a hot selfie...
...act embarrassed, but try to get them interested."
"Like now?"
"Yes now, while you're all chatting, start sexting one of them."
"Who!?"
"Whoever seems most deprived or freaky."
Hubby always finds a way to push me past my comfort zone.
But boyfriend is on his side.
"This a good idea. No fuck tonight unless you do it."
I look around the room. None of them seem like good candidates.
I look around again. I can't see myself being with any of them.
I notice my friend sitting quietly, not really participating.
I wonder if she's quiet for a reason similar to mine.
I try to see myself with her, but it's hard.
I quickly find a lingerie pic and send it without thinking.
I'm so nervous but I still myself like a statue.
In my peripheral vision, she looks at her phone.
I can tell she makes a face and hides her phone.
Then she quickly texts back: "Ummm, wrong number cutie!!"
I know I can't play it off like the boys said, so I don't.
"Nope, right number. You looked bored...and hot. Want another?"
I look at her grinning subtly. She texts back.
We work hard to hide our screens. No one notices.
"Not really into that. Thanks. :)"
"Me neither. But these whining wives are boring me."
"Strange reasoning, but they are boring."
"So, send me one of yours!"
She hesitates a long time. Then finally starts to text again.
"Once, he left me horny the night before a big board meeting...
...so, I sent him this in the middle of the meeting."
She was topless with two fingers hiding each nipple.
"Oh, hell yeah. Sexy!"
She followed up with two fingers inside her kitty.
I froze, shocked, then hurriedly put the phone face down.
When I looked up, she was chuckling at me.
And that was the start of that.
-June 4-
My friend and I have no interest in being intimate.
The guys aren't happy about it, but they aren't jerks.
Both just shrug and say it's whatever.
I know they want a threesome, but it's not to be.
Am I enough of a freak to enjoy that? Sure.
Am I a good submissive when it's my role? Yup.
But this is a chance for my own naughtiness.
Something without the boys calling the shots.
I spend more time with my friend and we get to know each other better.
We don't share more naked pictures or get touchy.
Again, we aren't interested in the typical narrative.
We just talk about normal life and crazy sex stories.
She is a touch envious of my arrangement.
Illicit sexual adventure free from societal norms.
"My husband would not go for something like that.
Unless, maybe, I caught him cheating."
So, we agree that I'll become his temptress.
A small role to play in a scheme that's her idea.
Secretly, I'm gushing with excitement for the challenge.
I feel high wondering if I can be that sexually powerful.
Can I be so seductive that an honest man is pulled astray.
I could never be so mean-hearted to do that to another woman.
So, having this safe agreement with my friend is a special opportunity.
Even as we discuss it, I'm getting turned on thinking about it.
He's mildly attractive, but none of that matters.
I don't want him for keeps.
He's just a trophy fuck.
-June 27, part 1-
My friend and I arranged a double date at their house.
I wore a flowy mid-thigh dress that would do the job.
My friend's hubby was apparently a leg man.
Hubby thought nothing of it, and I let him choose my thong.
And, of course, he grabbed a G-string, unaware there's a fucking difference.
I'd warned him, flirtatiously, that I was up to no good.
And that it didn't involve him, as far as I knew.
"I certainly hope you make the most of it," he said.
We were a bottle of wine into the evening.
I let my dress hike up, to give plenty of looks.
My friend asked her hubby for the RosΓ© from the basement rack.
He left and she nodded me to follow him.
"Actually, Hun, let our guests choose something.
Take your time!"
As I turned the corner, I smiled back at hubby and friend.
I hoped they would keep themselves happy.
Downstairs, I stood much too close, pressing myself into his arm.
He was calm and nervous all at once.
I put my arm around his masculine waist as he showed a label.
He put his hand on my upper back, trying to be platonic.