An Affair in the Future

My wife Claire is beautiful, I mean, like really fantastic. If you polled a hundred guys I'm sure she'd come out at a high eight out of ten. But not just a regular eight, I mean a special eight. I say that because I know lots of guys prefer different things. I've seen how guys look at her and I know she doesn't have long legs, or exotic looks, or huge knockers, but what she has is universally appreciated. She doesn't even need make-up to look good. She looks just as good when she rolls out of bed in the morning as when she's dressed to the nines. She's like the proverbial girl next door that no one notices next to the bombshell, but more guys would prefer none-the-less. If she only knew. She definitely underestimates her attractiveness.

In addition, she's smart, and loves sex. In fact, she's the most sexual girl I've ever dated. She's not crude but doesn't blush at rough language. Unfortunately, she doesn't have the highest self-esteem and also gets nervous easily.

One morning I looked across the table at my bride of three months dumbfounded at her words: unsmiling she repeated herself, "Would you forgive me if I cheated?"

Her asking filled me with doubt and questions of my own. Had she cheated? How would I feel about it? How should I answer?

I always thought of our love as unconditional. That It could survive anything. Surely this question was merely hypothetical. I stammered, "My Love, I could forgive you anything." Then I added, "But it would hurt me terribly. Our trust..."

Fearfully, I shifted gears and mustered the courage to ask, "Did you, I mean have you..."

She almost dropped her glass. Leaning forward, her eyes wide in surprise at my counterquestion, "Oh no! I could never. I love you too much. And no one would want me anyway. But you're right about our trust. It would be strained to the point of breaking."

I breathed again, relieved. Then she continued forlornly, "I didn't ask because I would be the one. I, well I asked because I see how your eyes are drawn to a shapely ass on the young girls at the mall." She sucked in a desperate breath, "Oh Honey, I can't sleep at night for the dread of it. I worry, with you being so handsome and all."

I put her mind at ease, reassuring her that I would never cheat. That she was gorgeous and desirable. That our love would last forever.

Despite my comforting words, over the next few months I could see that she was truly preoccupied and burdened regarding my theoretical affair. I always knew she was prone to worry but I never dreamed it would take this melancholic turn.

Sure, I've looked at an occasional rump, but I'm probably the least likely man on the planet to break my marital promise: I love her deeply and would do anything for her.

At night she would clutch my hand and I would hold it tight. During the day I started calling her 'My Forever Girl' instead of just 'sweety' as further reassurance.

One night while out to dinner the waitress bent low exposing her ample cleavage to us. I looked. But who wouldn't? I mean, even my Claire looked. The woman's breasts were nice but ultimately too large. I wouldn't like the sag. My wife's medium and firm titties were ideal.

Sadly, she was cheerless for the rest of the night. I snuggled close and whispered lovingly into her ear. But alas, nothing I did ever assuaged her 'infidelity-blues'.

The following Saturday at breakfast she broached the topic again, "If one of us cheated we would have to rebuild; restore balance. Like, if you cheated there would be an imbalance, with you up here," she gestured with one hand held up high, "and me down here." She held her other palm down low.

In response, I joked, "I guess you'd have to have a fling then to even up the scales."

She frowned, calmly mulling my words over, "Noooo, I could never do that. It would make it even, but it would be even with both of us being down here. It's not right to balance an affair with an affair. And besides, I don't want to.

Quickly I offered, "Claire, I don't want to either! I really don't want anyone except you. You gotta believe me."

She bit her fingers, "I know you don't want to. But you're charming, and cute, and successful, and funny. I see the way girls act around you. It's gonna happen. You can't stop it - like fate or something.

I came around to her side of the table cradling her head against my chest, "It's not gonna happen, Babe. It won't - never. I won't cheat. You won't cheat. We won't need to find a way to restore balance."

I felt her tears wetting my chest through my shirt, "You're right, Scotty, you're always right. We don't need to restore balance. We'd both be down here. What we need is a counterbalance.

She hugged me tight for like, five minutes. Then when she ventured to speak again she said, "Sooo, if the balance to a pleasant enjoyable affair is another affair, then the counterbalance to your fooling around would be...you having to suck a dick."

I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head. I hated to see her so distraught and just wanted her to stop crying. Naturally, I knew a thousand percent I would never have an affair - so I agreed, "OK, if I ever have an affair I'll do that." And it worked. She stopped crying.

I thought it was over. Yet, she still looked for lipstick on my collar when I came home from work. She tested my sex drive by offering me sex when she thought I'd be unlikely to need it. She had Alexa listen in on my conversations at work. Lastly, I found her checking the credit card statements too.

It came to a head when her OCD got bad. When she flipped a light switch she would flip it exactly 14 times. And if she had an itch she would scratch it seven times - she called it the seven year itch. Her hands were raw from washing them. The worst was that she still woke up in terrified sweats most nights. Something had to change.

It seems like Saturday breakfast was always the time to talk: "You know, you're always gonna be my Forever Girl - unless you die from stress. I think you should see someone."

The look of terror on her face shocked me until I realized she thought I was suggesting she sleep with another guy. "No, I mean, you should see a professional, a therapist, about your problems."

The terror was gone. Now she just looked confused. So, I explained, You're hands bleed. It takes a half-hour whenever you leave the house. And you worry constantly that I'm gonna cheat. I just wanna see you smile again."

She looked me straight in the eye and with great confidence said, "That's only because you are going to. Don't try to deny it. Those girls are irresistible, and you're only human. I married you because, next to my father, you're the strongest man I've ever known but you're only so strong. He caved you know? My own father caved. And it killed my mother."

With my face low in my hands I slowly shook my head, "What are we gonna do, girl? How are we gonna survive this?"

Things didn't improve much. Next week at breakfast, for the first time in weeks I saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Her lower lip trembled as she formulated an idea then gave it a twisted life by speaking it aloud, "You're gonna do it first. That'll make it alright. I promise it will. Trust me."

It was my turn to think she would suggest that I have an affair. I must have looked a thousand variations of confused.

So she clarified, "All you have to do is suck his dick for the affair you're destined to have. Trust me. It'll fix everything." Then She begged, "It will, it will. Do it for me, pleeeease. You have to."

She looked so happy as she was telling me I had to suck a dick: how it would make her problems go away. I was numb and bewildered. How did we get here? And how was I nodding my head?

I was so thrown off balance. I had agreed to suck 'his' dick. And just who was 'he'? I balked, "How am I supposed to do that? Guys are attracted to girls and I'm absolutely not feminine." With growing unease, I asked, "Or do you have someone in mind?"

With lifted spirits her thoughts spilled out all bubbly and enthusiastically, "Aw, Scotty. No man can keep it in his pants. You all want blowjobs. And you guys don't seem to care if she's cute or even if she's another bloke. What's that old saying? Um, 'all cats are gray in the dark', you know.

Besides, you're the smartest guy I know. You'll figure it out." Saying that she dropped my keys in my hand and ushered me out the door with a grateful kiss. I guessed she expected me to find some guy and do it right then.

Starting my car I backed out in a daze. I was no further than a block away when I received a text: it was a picture of her holding up my favorite sexy lingerie which she wore on special occasions, "Hurry back and we can celebrate our new state of equalibrium. Fuck me any way you want after it's done."

Her words had given me a half-baked idea: I would just stay out for an hour or so, then tell her I did it. It would be my first lie to her, but for her own good.

Regrettably, my scheming was interrupted by her next text: "Do you want to do it on the couch or the bed?"

Completely dispirited I replied simply, "the couch."

I walked around the mall for a bit. It was freeing to look at the girls' arses without fear of Clair giving my meaningless stares loads of meaning. A girl with a particularly spectacular ass in tight jeans walked by me. I eyed the security camera suspiciously wondering if there were a way to unlink it from my phone. I sure hoped my phone wouldn't report me to her. I ended up at a bookstore paging through "How to Pick Up Guys". At least now if she retrieved a video she would know I was serious. I put the book back worried about my bosses ability to randomly check-up on people.

Next I went to a bar for a drink. There were only about four guys in there. How does a straight man approach another straight man about a BJ?

Two more bars, two more hours, and a quick reading of the graffitti in the men's room and I was driving home dejected and empty handed. I feared she would be mad.

When I slunk through the door she was waiting there, sexy as hell in that pink babydoll and pumps. Seeing me alone her whole demeanor fell.

Over the course of the next hour she sank into a self-destructive depression. After dinner she was scrubbing her hands raw at the sink when I hugged her from behind, lying, "Don't worry Baby. It's just a setback. Totally to be expected. I just came home for dinner."

Forty- five minutes later, sitting at another bar, I was on my phone reading "A Gay Man's Guide to Cruising." I missed the 2000s when you could delete your browser history.

Then I saw it. The horribly obvious answer which I knew would work. I texted Claire to put her mind at ease: "Be home in two hours with a man. I'm gonna fix it!"

At the Adult Bookstore, with no cameras to concern me, I wandered the aisles feeling like a creep. I would chat up a guy then gradually lead the conversation to my intentions. It actually worked pretty well! All the guys wanted to do it. Just most didn't have the time to drive to my house then get back home before their respective wives would miss them, or track where they went.

Then one clicked. He was a large, good looking animal of a man. And he was very proud of his 'anaconda'. I didn't know what that meant, nor did I care. He wanted to fuck Claire as well so I had to make it clear that she was off limits. We only talked for a minute, long enough to get the basic details squared away.

Around midnight introductions were made and drinks were had. I'm a big guy but Lloyd stood half a foot taller than me. When he sat on the couch his legs reached halfway from the couch to the arm chair where I sat uncomfortably.

Claire was talking manically from the side chair about every and anything. Finally Lloyd heard the time and said casually, "Stand up Scotty. I'd like to look you over." It felt odd to be ogled. He had me turn, and pose, and bend over, among other things. All the while he was saying things like, "Oh you've got a great ass! Put your arm down and flex your tricep. Now grab your ankles."

Honestly, I was clueless about why he had me do those things just to get a blowjob. I could barely think straight. It was like I had tunnel vision and 'tunnel hearing' being totally unable to focus on anything beyond the immediate moment. Claire piped up like a cheerleader, "Yes, you're looking hot Baby, I see what he likes in you." I shot her a nervous sideways glance. She shot back smiling, "Did you think he wouldn't like you?"

I answered her curtly, "I thought he would only be interested in my mouth."

Claire laughed which caused Lloyd to laugh too, she went on, "Oh Baby, don't you know a blowjob is a whole event? You need a warm up, foreplay, the act itself, the cum-play, the swallowing, and lastly some adoring clean-up. It's a whole relationship, "Lloyd was smiling and nodding as she described the nature of felatio. I couldn't disagree or object since that was exactly how she treated me when she gave me a blowjob. She went on, "Really, it's not unlike a whole affair. Guess that's why it's sufficient to create a counterbalance."

Lloyd cleared his throat, "Yea, Baby I want the whole GFE. Now spin around and start a striptease." I'd never imagined that I would be naked and it scared me. I was glad my phone was in the phone box.

Claire knew me so well. She saw my face flush hot and red in confusion, "Don't be embarrassed. We're all adults here." She snickered, "And for your information, a GFE is a girlfriend experience, it means he wants it to be nice, like a girlfriend would make it. Not just a mechanical release. You really should make love to his cock. Make it good. We owe it to him for driving all the way up here to help us out."

Lloyd's voice had a mischievous hint of anger, "Yea Bitch, get strippin'. I wanna see that muscular bubble butt you've been teasing me with.

I hummed the strip song, pretending to be happy about all this. I undulated my hips hard enough to make Elvis jealous as I swung my shirt around over my head. When they joined into the spirit of things by catcalling and whooping I experienced a bit of real fun.

Rocking my hips I pushed my pants down then lay on my back to yank the pant legs over my ankles. He kept up with the admiring comments leering at my hairy legs and cyclists' calves.

Claire told me I should lift my hips up so I could skim off my Calvin Kleines. As soon as my penis and balls were exposed I felt a new wave of mortification. Unglued, I heard an echo of a voice groaning somewhere in the distance, I concluded it was his, "Unnnh, that's a nice one! And those low hangers really turn me on!"

My head felt dizzy, making me glad I was already on the floor. He went on, "Rollover girl. On your hands and knees." Claire nodded. So I did it.

Lloyd commented, "Oh Honey you've got a sweet looking pucker." I could tell from the sound of his voice that he had turned to Claire, "You think I can fuck him?"

Her answer relieved me greatly, but now her voice emanated from the couch next to Lloyd, "Sorry Buddy, we have to keep things proportionate. The BJ creates the right compensation for an affair."

He chuckled. "Is that what he did to deserve this? Well, it's no matter to me."

Now I objected, "No I didn't."

She objected to my objection, "But you will."

Ignoring our disagreement, Lloyd returned us to the matter at hand, "You two are one wild couple. Now shake that booty."

Claire joined him in spurring me on, "Put your ass up and your chest to the floor. You always ask me to do that."

Apparently he really liked it too, "You're right Claire, he looks amazing like that. I just love the way his balls are suspended below his asshole and his penis peeks out from behind them."

He grew impatient, "Are we ready Claire? I think I'm ready to get started."

Those words were frightening. I was getting used to parading around naked. It was a great diversion to avoid sucking cock. But now the delay was ending.

I turned to look back at them. Claire pointed her finger and crooked it at me in a 'come hither' motion. I'd seen her do it before but this time the 'here' was over to Lloyd. "Crawl. On your hands and knees like a slut. That would be crazy."

I crawled over to Lloyd who was smiling like the cat who ate the canary. "I like your lips. They're full, like you could really do a number on my big snake." Speaking to Claire now, "Do his lips feel good?"

"Oh yea Lloyd. They're soft and when he nibbles on your skin...oh it feels fantastic." She giggled, "You're gonna love it! Get him to start on your balls, teasing you 'till he gets to the main event."

I hadn't considered that his cock might be big. I never even considered that he would have balls. Somehow, I just imagined sucking on a disembodied cock. A cock that in my mind, looked just like mine. And then it would be over. I didn't think of a man connected to the dick. I didn't think about cum-play or adoration, or clean-up. This was going to be a thousand times worse than what I thought when I let myself get roped into this.

But Claire seemed relaxed and happy. I hadn't seen her this good in months. I just had to follow through. For her sake.

My dick hung limp, flaccid and weak between my legs, swinging to and fro as I crawled. When I got there between his thighs I placed one hand on each knee, rising up so I was eye level with his groin.

Claire gave me advice, "Lick your lips while looking in his eyes." Lloyd put one large thumb and forefinger on his zipper and began sliding it down. The sound roared at me like an angry lion.

"Now rub your hands on his thighs getting closer and closer to his juncture with each stroke." Lloyd hooked his fingers under the band of his pants and started to push them down. Down they went, all the way to his ankles, then he kicked them off. I could see a living cock sleeping there in it's cotton cave like a beastly dormant dragon. It seemed unbelievably large for one that was curled over, soft and completely un-aroused.

My lovely wife was watching me from less than two feet away, "Now put your thumbs inside the legs of his underwear and pleasure his jewels with soft caresses." They were slightly furry, giving more of an impression now of a sleeping bear than of a dragon.

I saw Claire's pretty hand reach over now, lifting the band of the white briefs up and over the bear. When it emerged from hibernation it was unmistakable just how formidable it was. Completely soft, it was as thick as a toilet paper tube and about six inches long. I hoped to all hope it was a shower not a grower.

The elastic from his underwear was tucked tightly under his huge orbs, holding them up prominently in a threatening dominance display.

"Put your lips in there among the folds of his sack. Nuzzle them, Darling. That's right, you're doing great!" Her hand now played in the hair at the nape of my neck. She whispered to Lloyd, "Didn't I tell you he had nice lips?"

I felt Lloyds hands creep around, taking hold of my head gently. They were huge. It seemed like my head was a basketball and he was one of those players whose fingers reach halfway around the ball. Partly moaning and partly whispering he expressed his enjoyment, "Oh were you right, Claire. His lips are softer than any girl I've had. Ooh, I love it! I really do. You said he'll swallow, right?"

Answering on my behalf she seemed to give it no thought, "Of course he will Lloyd. He'll do whatever you want."

I had to challenge them now before this spun too much further out of control. Lifting my lips from his steaming hot twins, "Now wait a minute! I only agreed to a blowjob and you two keep moving the goalpost. I think we should just get this done and behind us."

Lloyds hands tightened. I don't think it was an act of aggression, just tension. Claire's lip quivered again. I knew my doom was upon me but I thought I could play out my hand for even the smallest hope of diminishing how bad it would be.