Chapter 3 – Evolution
In a world where it's safe to have unprotected sex, there is such a thing as...a good marriage.
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And so the normal rhythm of life returned for Mark and Carrie. Making love, working, traveling. Because of the nature of their jobs, they worked and made love in locales exotic and mundane.
As time passed Mark grew more accepting of Carrie's history. Her history of sex with all those other men. There was still a nugget of...a threat? Jealousy wasn't quite the right word. Adequacy? He wondered how he compared to those other men. Carrie seemed very happy and satisfied with him. Was it threat? Curiosity? The images of her with other men that occasionally filled his thoughts at unexpected moments didn't make him cringe anymore, didn't make his pulse race or make his heart beat faster. But there was
something
there, an elusive tingle deep inside of him.
One Tuesday while Carrie was out running errands and having lunch with her editor Mark found himself in the attic opening the box of pictures. The box of pictures of Carrie with other men. Seventy-five of her other men. Mark sorted through them. Pictures of men in their twenties and thirties, middle aged men, skinny rock star types, athletic men. Mostly handsome men, some average looking. Men with means and others who looked like their weekend together would be Dutch or on Carrie.
As Mark thought of Carrie with these men, picture by picture, imagined their hands on her body, her mouth on the men, he felt his cock swell and thicken and become hard and was shocked and appalled at his arousal.
Carrie barely got through the door before Mark lifted her skirt. She was wet and he fucked her standing up, her back against the front door, her arms around his neck, first one of his arms under one leg, then both her legs supported by his arms as he fucked her hard against the door. Holding her this way he carried her to the couch and fell on her and fucked her. He pounded her into the couch with vague images of a long line of men fucking her dripping cunt the same way.
Mark fucked her on the couch, his cock rammed her tight, hairless pussy and she urged him on with her hands and words. One hand on his ass, another holding his head, Carrie rasped, "Yes, dear. Fuck me. Use me." Mark fucked her harder and they made loud, wet slaps as their bodies collided and when the time came Carrie moaned, "Now. Give me your cum," and Mark pumped and pumped and roared and collapsed onto her chest.
Carrie stroked Mark's hair and back while he caught his breath. His thoughts were racing, his emotions in turmoil. Mark was so aroused by his beloved, but shocked at the realization he was also aroused at this moment by the thought of her with those other men. He wondered what was happening to him. What kind of a man was he?
"Wow, darlin'. That was quite the welcome home, it was. I take it you missed me," she laughed.
"Always do, baby," Mark said and slid to her side, his hand playing slowly over her flat stomach, her freckled breasts. He caressed her cheek. Mark was naked. Carrie's blouse was pushed up above her breasts; her skirt bunched around her waist.
They stayed that way for a time then Carrie kissed Mark, disengaged, stood up, pulled her blouse down. She ran her hands down her skirt straitening it, shimmying her hips for effect, then flicked her hair back and said, "You sure know how to show a gal a good time, sailor." She winked, turned and before she rounded the corner flipped up her skirt and flashed her ass at him. Mark smiled. He lay on the couch for a few minutes then headed to the bathroom to take a shower.
Mark wasn't sure what to make of his feelings. Did being aroused by imagining her with other men mean he really wanted her to have sex with them? No. No, he definitely didn't want that. When the images came, they were of her with the men in the pictures, of her with faceless, anonymous men. He washed himself, thought, and felt his cock swell.
A week or so later Mark and Carrie lay in bed. Mark on his back, his arm around her. Carrie on her side, a leg over Mark's. She was stroking his cock and very slightly rocking her hips, her pussy wet against his thigh.
"Carrie?"
"Mmm hmm?"
"What was it like to have so many lovers?"
She paused and just held him in her hand. "You sure you want to be talkin' about this?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, now."
"No...I'll let you know if it's too much."
"Okay."
"So what's it like?"
"Jesus, I don't know. It just is. It's who I am, is all. I don't feel odd or anythin'. And I'm not ashamed, though I know it would shock a lot of people."
"How did you meet them?"
"Through work mostly. You know, work parties. Clubs sometimes. Friends of friends."
"But how did you, you know."
Carrie thought for a moment and said, "Darlin', I'm not about braggin', but I do know what I'm about. Look at me. Men have been eyein' and approachin' me since I was a young one. I'm not naïve. I know I have a...a vibe or somethin'."
"I do know that vibe."
"And really, most men just stare or try not to let me notice they're lookin' at me. But a lot of men still hit on me. You do know that, right?"
"I guess."
"Oh, to be sure, now. Even when I'm lookin' my worst at the grocery store."
"I guess I'm not surprised."
"And so I used me vibe when I wanted to and met who I wanted to meet." She looked into his loving eyes and said, "But I promise I'll never cheat on you, Mark. I never want to hurt you."
"I know," he said and pulled her to him for a kiss.
And so it went. Every couple of nights or so Mark would bring up her past, the other men. Not in a mean or accusing way, but curios, wanting to know and understand her. Carrie appreciated his concern, his interest in her and his acceptance of her. It made her love Mark even more.
As they talked in bed Carrie noticed something. She noticed his cock stayed hard during their conversations about her past lovers. She didn't want him to feel badly so she stroked him, kept him hard, thinking that his experiencing pleasure might help counteract any uncomfortable feelings he might have as they talked of her past, of her having fucked so many men.
Carrie wondered if his cock stayed hard only because she stroked him so a couple of times she quit touching him to see what would happen. She got him hard then didn't touch him at all and was a bit surprised that he maintained an erection throughout their discussion. She spent some time wondering what that meant. And as they talked she was surprised to discover that it aroused her as well, when she talked to him of her past. Talked to Mark about sex with all those lovers.
Mark would lay on his back, Carrie to his side, secure in his loving embrace. And Carrie stroked him, their ritual of sorts when he asked questions about her past. It was Mark's guilty pleasure to be aroused, to have her stroke and caress him, to feel pleasure while she talked of other men she had fucked. It was incredibly exciting to Carrie to be able to tell Mark about the unusual places she'd had sex. And of other things.
She enjoyed stroking him, using his pre-cum as lubricant, rubbing herself on his leg, all the while telling him things about her past sex life, about the men she'd fucked.
Over time Mark's questions became more explicit. Carrie had a lot of talents, some tricks, and Mark wondered about those. Who taught her, what was the process, did she learn them in long-term relationships or in one night stands? Sizes, shapes. What did she like best, cut or uncut, thick or thin?
