A Loving Wife's Story

The promises of last night always wake up to the morning after. The morning after a night of sharing with my husband a real but brief sexual adventure, and his taking me to bed to give me a shattering good fuck, held the therapeutic benefits I've come to expect. My body fulfilled and alive. My mind as free and happy as song birds flying from branch to branch. Open to the bask of summer Sunday morning sunshine. But Jamie was not entirely on my page. He turned inward. He was thinking. I had seen that mood before when a big business decision occupied him. There was no big business deal then. He was caught up in something else. The man I had kissed for real last night, the man who had sucked my nipple into his mouth and fed on it like it was a ripe sweet strawberry. I knew what he was thinking. I had to be patient. Our day played out in smooth routine. That evening he took the plunge.

"About last night..."

"You were marvelous. You were stupendous! No woman could ask for a more satisfying lover."

"No woman could be more inspiring than you. But I was thinking of the antecedents."

"The sharing that lit our fire."

"Before that."

"The dance. All those men with hard cocks."

"You excursion outside."

"His mouth kissing mine. His mouth sucking my nipple."

"Yes. That. And your surrender to that. However brief."

"It was brief. And I did surrender to him in that moment, feeling that ravishment a woman was born to feel with the right man. He was the right man in that brief but ravishing moment."

"The right man, but, wrong time wrong place, you said."

"Did I say that?"

"That's what you told me you said to him."

"Perhaps I did. Or perhaps when I was telling you about it my mind was exploring all the angles, and I said that only to you."

"What angles?"

"Well, another time another place, the right time and place, I could have taken his cock out of his pants, examined the reality of what had wet my panties while dancing with him, held his cock in my hand, taken it in my mouth."

"If the time and place were right."

"Yes. That kind of angle."

Jamie was torn into separate halves. I could see it. My wording of the right time and place had lit his fuse, but he was frightened of the force of an unimaginable bomb about to explode.

"I think our oh so exciting game has wandered into a mine field."

"Then we must choose our path very, very carefully."

"Or reverse direction entirely."

"I leave that decision entirely to you. You are my husband. You are my love and my life. My shelter and my strength. I want only to serve you and please you."

"You please more than I could ever explain to anyone else."

*****

The next evening.

"Did you and that Warren swap phone numbers?"

"What?! You dare ask me that!" I was instantly hot with anger. Suddenly and rightfully. "Of course we didn't! Do you really think I would hide that from you if we did? I am not a sneaky wife who cheats on her husband!"

"Okay, okay." Jamie said, with raised hands to placate my anger. Shocked that the anger had boiled up, the first time ever. "I was just thinking, what if he shows up again, makes contact with you again."

"Warren is long gone. I don't even know his last name. He was only a chance encounter at a country club dance. Out of sight, out of mind."

"You did say he was the right man. Only the time and place were wrong."

"I was probably overstating. He was handsome and devilish sexy. His kisses drained all my will power, for a brief moment. But he wasn't right for reasons you stated and made me fully aware. A friend of the Jennings. A closer connection than we can allow. Too much risk of messy complications, and our exposure. No way I will ever let that happen."

"My God, Sondra. You are expressing ideas and directions I never considered. You are leaving me behind."

I kissed my husband, very softly and tenderly, our lips barely touching, as softly as Warren's hand had stroked my breasts. I said in a husky whisper, "You will catch up. I am patient."

"I don't know what is going on in your head."

"We are choosing our path through the mine field, very carefully."

"I still have the choice of reversing direction."

"Yes you do. Until you make that choice, we will venture on, very, very carefully."

"This is scary."

"My confession after the club dance was scary. With no Scheherazade to justify it. Very scary. My loss of control and brief surrender. Sharing that real event with you. Both of us charged with an excitement that was new and very different and even more powerful. It was for me. I know it was for you too. Wasn't it? Tell me honestly."

"New and very different, that's for certain."

"With an erotic punch more powerful because what I shared with you really happened. Admit it."

Jamie slowly exhaled, emptying himself, looking down at the floor and then looking back into my eyes. "I have to admit it, in all honesty. But that doesn't remove the fact that you risked us, especially me, to exposure and ridicule."

"I can see that now. I don't argue your point at all. I promised you it would never happen again... Not like that."

"You leave a door open to it happening again in some other way."

"Not with Warren of course. But, some man out there. In perfect circumstances that assures us privacy and safety. No one in our circles ever knowing or suspecting. I have given that some thought. Shall we think about it together?"

"Jesus Sondra!"

"You said not long ago you were sure Scheherazade and I could come up with something spectacular to present to you. A special gift, gift wrapped with the reality of a real other man just sort of entered my head. The man at the Marriott bar started it all. You liked that as much as I did. My sticking my toes in the water with Warren, so to speak, most certainly took our sharing to the highest level yet. His kisses happened. His mouth on my nipple happened. And my gift to you in telling you all really happened. Even though you were confused, your erotic charge on hearing what really happened was stronger than ever before. Imagine the story I could return to tell you if I really did find some man out there. Perfectly safe for us in all considerations. A handsome sexy man who wanted me, and I wanted him, and I let him fuck me. Imagine the story I would return to share with you. Ken and Kirk would lose all significance."

My husband stared at me wide eyed and stunned. "Enough, Sondra. No more. This is insane. You are my wife. I could never let you do anything like that. We shouldn't even be discussing such a crazy idea."

"You are wrong there. There is nothing we can't discuss. We have the strength of love and honesty to talk about anything. Others might consider it crazy that I told you all about Ken transforming me from a girl to a woman at the Red Rooster Inn. Crazier still I confessed to you my night of fantasy whoredom with Kirk at the Marriott. But I did. And it brought out something buried in both of us. Something extremely thrilling for both of us. Something that does not endanger or harm us. And what I'm saying to you now is only a vague idea in my mind. A what if extension of our magical toy box. The vague extension playing in my mind is shocking to you, not so much for me. My excursion to the patio the night of the dance did introduce me to a new world of possibilities."

I paused. "Taking this next step. I am primed. You are shaken. Your wife actually going out to fuck another man for the purpose of sharing her experience with you. Most unusual to say the very least. But we are not common folk, my love. We are what we are. We have what we have. And it's only an idea. It will entail fantastic luck for me to find the right man, the right time and place. It might take years. It might never happen. I'm not demanding you say yes. For now, I simply ask you to imagine it."

*****

The most powerful sex organ in the human body is said to be the human brain. So much goes on in our brains below the threshold of conscious awareness. Millions of signals flashed in the circuitry of our construction - organs, cells, muscles and blood paths - orchestrating our countless chemicals and enzymes and hormones to play their parts in harmonious concert. Every second, minute, hour of each day, asleep or awake. Some of this activity increases to trigger our awareness. And when awareness has birth in our brain, it becomes the servant to imagination.

In the days that went merrily by, I could clearly imagine my husband imagining IT! There was no need to push the idea. My vague idea of our next step was now his idea, subject to all those chemical signals orchestrating beneath the threshold, and bursting onto the scope of his imagination. An imagination already shaped and seasoned by the ingredients of Ken and Kirk, the pizza boy, the man at the Marriott bar, and by Warren. There was no great change in Jamie. He was as cheerful and loving and loyal as always. But often he seemed to drift off in private rumination, his expression softened with speculation, even bemusement it seemed. I gave him his time and space. My patience buoyed on purpose. Weeks slid by.

We lay in bed, wearing our matching unisex night wear of Burgundy red silk I had bought on line for us. Jamie's was a toga like gown that went to his knees. He loved the comfort of it, the sensuous feel on his skin, the freedom of movement. Mine was a chemise, half way to my knees, my breasts cradled but accessible. Sensuous on my skin, silky slick for my lover's caress. He cradled me in one arm, and with the other directed his hand to silky slick touches and caresses of my breasts and body. I sighed and purred, body chemical signals bounding over the threshold. No imagination required.

"You still have that crazy idea in your head?"

"Wrapped up, on a shelf in a closet far back in my mind. Gathering dust."

"Could you really do that?"

"I think I could, my love. I really think I could." He was silent for a while, but didn't stop his loving caresses. "I could because it would be primarily for you. To create that special gift for you."

"You are very generous. But we can't overlook your own special benefits, apart from your sharing with me."

There was no sarcasm or accusation in his voice tone at all. He spoke in measured thoughtfulness.

"No, that can't be denied. The right man at the right time and place. My first other man since I married you. His body instead of yours. His cock instead of yours. His new style and rhythm and masculine vigor. I have thought of that. The delicious thrill that would be."

"That's what I was getting at."

"But that would be wished for, even essential! If I did not fully surrender myself to those private passions of sexual desire and joyful union with him, what would be the point? If I only went through the motions, permitted him to fuck me while I mentally made a grocery list or graded term papers, how would that make a special gift to share with you when I returned? How could that inflame your erotic capacity and bring you to that oh so special height of erotic transcendence?"

My husband made no attempt to answer my questions. I realized how odd my argument would have sounded to a debating society judge, and I burst out laughing. "Some things do make sense." I said. "No matter how convoluted." And I laughed again. Uncontrollably. Jamie joined in. Uncontrollably. And we abandoned ourselves to orgiastic laughter, cathartic and releasing and cleansing. We laughed so hard our diaphragms began to ache.

We settled down. We regained normal breathing. His hand caressed my breast. I felt for his cock nestled in the silk. It sprang to attention, engorged with heat and desire, quivering with readiness. I shrugged out of my chemise straps to free my breasts. We bunched our matching silk at our waists. I opened my legs to receive him and he entered me, taking my hot juicy reception. He loved my breasts with his mouth, and he fucked me. Sliding back and forth in me with tender loving grace, with sure manly energy, encapsulating us in the sublime purity of husband and wife making love.

To be continued...