Amateur Dramatics and My Wife

Amateur Dramatics or reality

My wife, Sarah, and I had a fight, I think it more correct to say she started a fight. She accused me of looking at, or interacting with other women in an inappropriate way, a being unfaithful way.

The thing is none of it is real it's one of the games we play, foreplay. There are several scenarios, this one was The Slut Wife and Cuckold.

Sarah tells me she is going out and she is going to get fucked by some random guy or group of guys. The scenario is we have had a fight and I'm in the doghouse. She goes and showers, freshly shaves her pussy and dresses in her sexiest lingerie. She puts on 'The Dress' a dress that I love because it is halfway between sophisticated sexy and slutty. I'm sat in front to the TV drowning my sorrows and she walks in, glares at me and snaps. "So! I'm off now to get fucked by as many cocks as I can get!" She lifts her dress and pulls her panties down and tells me I should kiss her married pussy goodbye." She then leans down and kisses me softly and whispers, "I'm going to be so full of cum tonight... I will FaceTime you while I'm getting fucked, would you like that?" I always agree and tell her I love her." She leaves, slamming the door. She the just drives around for a while to build the tension and then comes home and we fuck like animals.

So, you understand, we have explored just about every worldly activity to entertain ourselves. I sold my pharmaceutical company three years ago; the company held several patterns and licenses. The sale ensured that we would never need to worry about money ever again. Not disgustingly rich but more than comfortable, well, okay, a lot more than comfortable. At first, we enjoyed the freedom that the money brought. We travelled, bought high-end luxuries, cars, even a yacht.

Eventually it became a little dull and we started to seek out activities of our own separately. It wasn't a conscious decision it just developed that way. When I say activities, I don't mean sexual activities, our marriage was solid we just started finding activities, interests of our own. I tried things like golf, raced cars, and rock climbed. Sarah tried painting, sculpture and other artistic pursuits. It was when she joined an Armature Dramatics group that we things began to develop and bring us back together. She started taking acting lessons and her standing in the group grew and she started getting most of the lead female roles.

It really all started when Sarah rehearsed her part with me at home for a play called "The Blue Room" by David Hare. Sarah's role was Emma, a slutty wife. The scene that sparked it all involved Emma, a married woman, and Anton, a student. In the scene, Emma is in bed with Anton, and her husband Charles is present in the shadows, watching the interaction.

SUMMARY^1: The couple, financially secured from selling a pharma company, explored various hobbies to keep life interesting. Sarah's involvement in an amateur dramatics group and her role in "The Blue Room" as a promiscuous wife, rekindled their relationship and introduced a new form of excitement through role-playing.

We found it a huge turn on and ended up having great sex. It opened something in me that was both erotic and shaming. I had experienced arousal watching Sarah in interactions with other men before. I don't mean having sex but where she is getting hit on or dancing in the arms of another guy, in some social setting.

After we fucked like animals and laying on our bed covered in sweat panting, Sarah turned to me. "So, wow that was hot! You got so turned on, is there something you want to share?"

I felt a little uncomfortable. "I think I don't get it, what I mean is I got a kick out of... being Charles... I er."

So, being a Cuckold is a turn on?"

"Hey, hold on I never said that!"

"It's okay all husbands get off on imagining their wife screwing another guy."

"Oh, and you know this... how?"

"Girls talk you know."

"You talk; you mean your 'Coven' chat around the cauldron about your husband kinks? Sarah slaps me playfully, "You think of me and my friends as witches, do you?"

"No but you're not denying you all discuss your bedroom antics?"

"Well yeah, of course." She giggles and kisses me.

"So do any of the other Witches husbands get off on the Cuckold thing?"

"Look no names but yes, one or two have, actually one has done stuff."

"Shit, really?" I stare at the side of her face, and I see her mind searching.

"Okay, this stays between us," she finally says. My heart missed a beat, what was she going to tell me.

"One of my... 'Coven' and her husband did try swinging to spice things up. Her hubby had a thing about seeing his wife with a black guy and they arranged and met a black guy at a motel. She said she loved it but her husband had a real problem afterwards. They went through a rough period for a while. They have never done it again."

"I can see that, the fantasy is often better than the reality."

Sarah turns to me with a questioning look. "And you know this how?"

"Well in fantasy there are no consequences, it isn't real."

"Yeah, but how do you know fantasy is better than the reality?"

"Because in fantasy you have whatever you want. Like I wanted the Lambo and once I got it and started to drive it, I found it uncomfortable and unusable around town. The 'Want. was better than the 'Have'. The consequence was I lost a shit load of money when I sold it, and the fantasy was blown."

Sarah nods thoughtfully. "So, what you're saying is that you don't know if the reality of watching me with someone else would be as good as the fantasy?"

"Oh no, if I am honest the actuality would be incredible, I'm sure, it's the aftermath. Think of it like the Lamborghini scenario, The fantasy is the wanting it, then the day arrives where you are going to have it. You are in the showroom, and you are walking around it, taking in the beauty, feeling the lust of the moment. You get in and start it up, the roar of the engine thrills you. The vibration of the engine, the feel of the leather upholstery, the luxury, that expensive new car smell. You drive away and you discover that it's all too much for you to handle day after day. Until you reach the conclusion 'I wish I hadn't done it'. Does that make sense?

Sarah nods, "I get it, but what if the reality is so much better than the fantasy that you want to do it again, and again?"

I think for a while. "I don't think it is something I could actually do; I like the fantasy but..."

Sarah smile and kisses me. "Okay I actually agree, and I am relieved, I like the fantasy of being a slut, but I wouldn't want to be one. I love you too much to risk losing you."

I realise she had been testing me, and I had passed with flying colours.

We enjoyed the role play several more times, I played both Charles and Anton and she was Emma. Then the evening arrived of the first full dress rehearsal, and I went along. I was so nervous. We had been playing our role-play sex game all week and now I was going to see my wife act it out for real. Okay as real as it could be without it being real. I'm sure you understand what I mean.

I take a seat a few rows back from the stage. The front row has directors and costume people and others, all with copies of the script. They are discussing scenes and directions. I watch the rehearsal of various scenes, the scenes with Sarah keep my attention but there is a lot stop start and start overs. It did become a little tedious.

When they started to change the set, and a large bed is pushed out into the centre of the stage my heart begins to pound in my chest. Sarah is standing in a bathrobe talking to a younger guy also in a bathrobe. So, this is Anton, he didn't look as I had imagined the character, I don't know how I imagined him but that was okay. This Mediterranean looking Anton was young, I'd guess about 20. He looked so confident and moved like her was the cat that got the cream. The director called for 'Positions' and everyone starts to mill around. Sarah sees me and gives me a nervous shy wave. She mouths, "You, okay?" I nodded and smiled back. She blows me a kiss, and I see the Anton look over at me and he smirks and gives me an 'OK' sign and I nod back.

I start to wonder about the 'OK' sign and something is bothering me about it. I couldn't figure out what it was but it... I don't know. It was as if it meant are you happy about me fucking your wife. And was my nod saying yeah buddy fuck her brains out, I'll love it.

The lights dim and the director calls for action. Sarah and Anton go to either side of the bed and slip under the covers. They both remove their robes under the covers and drop them to the floor. I hadn't thought about it up to then, were they actually naked? I thought, no, surely, they would be wearing underwear at the very least.

The adjusted their positions, Anton sat up and leaned against the headboard and Sarah, Emma, was laid down the covers up under her chin.

The Director calls out where's Charles, Charles where is he, where is our Charles? There is a lot of calling out for Charles and then a young girl appears around the curtain at the side of the stage, "I'm sorry, Mr Oliver called he again he's train is still delayed." The Director flies into a rant and Sarah calls out "My husband knows the role!... he has been rehearsing with me at home" I see Anton smirk again and he has a 'Oh Yeah, I bet he has.' look on his face. Was I just imagining it, but did Anton know what Sarah and I had been doing, had Sarah let on to him somehow?

The director spins around to look where Sarah is pointing. He looks at me over his spectacles for a moment. "We don't actually need Charles, but it is 'Full Dress' sooo. Wait! you are Sarah's actual husband? Ooh now that could make for a real dynamic...yes. yes." He doesn't ask if I would step in, he just calls out. "Very well, go, go get up there! Okay everyone let's get on with it."

I get up and look around hesitantly. The Director waves me toward the stage and I move down the row of seats up onto the stage. I move to the armchair indicated by a girl with a script, and she adjusts the position of the chair, so I am stage left facing the bed, some ten feet from the side that Sarah occupies. I glance around nervously and Sarah whispers over to me, "It's okay you know there are no lines for Charles in this scene."

The Director reads out from the script. "Emma is lying in bed with Anton, having a conversation that gradually becomes more intimate. Their dialogue is charged with anticipation and tension. Meanwhile, Charles, Emma's husband," He points at me. "Is hidden in the shadows, observing the interaction without being noticed. As the scene unfolds, Anton and Emma begin to kiss, and their conversation shifts to hushed tones and tender words. Emma, aware of her husband's presence but pretending otherwise, allows the interaction to escalate, testing her own boundaries and exploring her desires.

Charles watches silently, his emotions a mix of jealousy, arousal, and confusion. He struggles to reconcile his desire to witness the encounter with the pain of seeing his wife with another man. The scene becomes a complex interplay of power, vulnerability, and forbidden attraction."

Anton whispers, quite loudly, "So Charles just sits and watches Anton pleasure his wife." Sarah just looks me in the eyes as he speaks. I stare into her eyes, but I can also see the leering look on this Anton's face, it angers me, and it arouses me. I feel very conflicted.

The house light dim and the stage lights come up and the scene starts. Anton slides down the bed to face my wife, my heart is racing. Anton starts to kiss down her neck and as he does, he slides the covers down and I'm startled to see her breasts, shit she, they are actually naked! My pule is racing and my throat feels like it is swelling just like my cock.

I can't look away. I watch as his hand slides over her breast and his thumb brushes back and forth over her growing nipple. I see her quiver and I swallow hard. I look into my wife's face and her eyes are closed. I feel I am about dive over and beat Anton to death when Sarah speaks. the voice, the accent is not Sarah, it's an English accent. the feeling of anger evaporates, my wife is is Emma... this acting, it's not real. But those are my wife's breasts and that is not my hand.

Anton starts to kiss her nipple, and she arches her back. This is what we have been doing at home. It is our game, but now it feels weird, I am watching my wife play the game with someone else play the part I had several times. This was even more arousing than it had been when we had played it out at home.

As I watch, my mind reels. I'm torn trying to process this, the pretence and the reality. The pretence is this is a scene in a play, an act. But the reality is that is my wife, naked, in a bed with another man. Those are her breasts and that is another man's hand feeling them. This isn't our bedroom; this is a stage. This is a rehearsal with choreographed movements, I keep telling myself. The director calls out for them to pause, and the scene stops. My heart is pounding, my mouth is dry. The director starts to give notes to Anton and Emma. I find I can cope a little if I think of my wife as Emma not my wife.

Sarah sees my face and she realises I am struggling, she looks very concerned, "Remember this is not real we are acting."

I nod, trying to compose myself, the voice in my head says over and over. "I know, I know, I just need a moment." I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the fact that this was a play. I'm snapped out of it when the Director claps his hand as calls out. "Okay let's go from the breast fondling, clear the stage, actors ready, and... action.

I feel sweat running down the back of my neck. and I watch as the scene continues. Anton, holding Emma's breast kisses her deeply and his hand slides down from her breast and under the covers. He lifts his body up and over her. I see her spread her legs under the covers. His body lowers between her spread legs, and it looks like he is entering her, entering Emma, entering my wife. No, I can't do this, acting or not I can't take it!

Suddenly the Director calls out. "And lights fade on bed and then light fades on Charles, curtain drops, and scene ends. Excellent everyone, really very good. Now if we can get it like that on the night that that will be perfect.

I huge sense of relief washes over me as the house lights come up. I watch Sarah step out of the bed and pick up the bathrobe. I see she is wearing panties, and I am unsure if it is relived or disappointed.

I have to sit through another hour of rehearsals before we can leave for home.

We are driving in silence for a few minutes when Sarah asks if I am okay. I nod and tell her tell her. "No, yes and no... I don't know."

"You looked pretty intense up there," she says with a hint of amusement in her voice. "Was it too much for you?"

"You don't know how close I got..."

"You nearly came?"

"No, I nearly went to prison for murder!"

Sarah bursts out laughing, "Oh my God, you're so dramatic!" She playfully slaps my arm before continuing, "But seriously, how did it feel to watch it play out like that?"

Her question hangs in the air, the car's engine purring as the only sound between us. I ponder my answer, trying to navigate the jumble of emotions that had played out in that rehearsal room. "It was... intense," I finally say, my voice a little hoarse. "It's one thing to play it out in our bedroom, but seeing it on a stage, with another man, with an audience, even if it's just the director and crew, it was hard."

"How Hard was it?" she says thick with innuendo and a smile.

I sigh, "You know what I mean."

Sarah's smile fades, her eyes searching my face. "But it was hot, right? Watching me with another man, even if it was just pretend?"

I clear my throat, trying to ignore the persistent throb in my pants. "Yeah, it was hot, but also... weird. I mean, it's our game, but seeing it play out in front of other people was a lot to take in."

Sarah nods thoughtfully, keeping her eyes on the road. "I guess it's a little different when it's not just us." She pauses, then looks over at me with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But you have to admit, it added something, didn't it?"

"Added something?" I repeat, still trying to come to terms with the emotional rollercoaster of the evening. "It added a whole new level of... reality to the fantasy."

Sarah nods, "Exactly, and that's what makes it so intense. The line between pretend and reality blurs a bit."

I swallow hard, "Yeah, it sure does."

Sarah falls silent for a moment. "Think I should tell you some things, I need you to know, hear a few things, just so you know."

"Okay?" I reply tentatively, unsure where she's taking the conversation.

"I got turned on; I was barely acting I was genuinely turned on."

"By Anton!"

"Yes, well not so much him but what he was doing and you being there watching."

"What do you mean?" I ask, a hint of jealousy creeping into my voice.

"Well, you saw his hands om my breast, feeling my nipple, you saw how hard my nipples got. I got so wet. Well, what you didn't see was how hard he got."

"What?" I sputter, not sure if I wanted to know that.

Sarah laughs, a low sexy laugh that sends a shiver down my spine. "Well, I had panties on but he was naked, when he lowered himself down, if hadn't been wearing panties he would have slid straight in to your little wife's married pussy."

I look at her in shock and horror, "You're not serious!"

"Oh, I am, I felt it press my panties an inch into me."

My mind was racing, trying to reconcile the fact that my wife was telling me she had another man had pressed his cock into her.

"You... wanted him to really fuck you, in front of me?"

Sarah's laughter echoed in the car, a little too loud. "It's not about wanting him, it's about the thrill, the taboo of it all. You know how we love to push the boundaries."

"So, you think you could do it, do it for real?"

Sarah glances at me, her eyes sparkling with excitement and challenge. "Maybe," she says coyly, "but only if it's part of our game, and only if you're okay with it."

"I can't do this right now; I need to fuck you so bad."

We screech to a halt, and I suddenly realise we're home. Sarah is out the car and running inside, I fall over in my rush to get in, but I back up on my feet in a flash. I chase her upstairs and into the bedroom. I tear at her clothes, and we fuck like rabbits. I don't last long and I'm emptying into her in seconds. She rips open her bedside drawer and scrabbles about and retrieves a dildo and begins to fuck herself like a possessed slut. I watch for a few seconds and my cock hardens again and I'm on her again sucking her nipples and kissing her with urgency as she masturbates with the dildo. I can hear the wet slopping sound as she fucks herself. Her wetness and my cum becoming a froth around her stretch pussy. I whisper in her ear, "Don't wear your panties on the night, let him fuck you on the stage, in front of everyone, in front of me."

Sarah explodes into an orgasm the likes of which I have never witnessed ever. She screams through gritted teeth. I can't hold off and I try drive my cock into her with the dildo still in her but it's impossible. She flings it across the room, and I slam into her.

"I will, I will let him fuck me! I want you see me getting fucked by him!" Sarah's voice was hoarse with desire, her body quivering underneath mine as she panted out the words. "I am going to be a slut, your slut. I will fuck him; I take his cum in me"

Her words were like a drug, a dark aphrodisiac that only made me want more. "You will, you will, yes, my you will let him fuck you," I whispered back, my teeth grazing her ear lobe. I feel my balls tighten, ready to release again. I fucked her hard, her back arched as I drove deep into her. The bed was shaking, and the headboard was banging against the wall. She was grunting and moaning with every thrust.