Anatomy of a Wife Share

The title makes it clear but I will also use this disclaimer to emphasise that this story involves wife sharing/cuckoldry, so don't read it if that bothers or offends you.

It started several weeks ago when I'd picked up my wife's phone, idly wondering what gossip would be revealed in the texts from her girlfriends.

There was a text from Mike Bryant, no surprise there as he was part of her friendship group at the gym, but what did surprise me was that he was inviting himself round for coffee. My wife Karen had declined, saying she had commitments.

My immediate thought was that he was hitting on her. I had little doubt that if she had said yes, then he would have taken that as a green light. Karen is in her early forties and her healthy lifestyle means that she has kept her looks and is often taken to be ten years younger than she is. Indeed I happened to know that a twenty year old guy at the gym had asked the manager who the attractive young woman on the cross-trainer was and he had taken some convincing that the "young" woman was in her forties.

I saw that first text on a Friday when I'd come back home after a couple of days away (I travel regularly with my job). It took me a little while to realise that Mike's text was from the Thursday morning. Karen always goes to the gym on a Wednesday so my guess was that she had mentioned I was working away and Mike had seen that as an opportunity to try his luck.

I was unsure whether to mention that text to Karen. In the end I decided to leave it and see whether she said anything. That doesn't mean I forgot about it. Just the opposite, I thought about it quite a lot. I should explain that the thought of my wife having sex with another man has always aroused me.

A few years ago I asked her whether she ever regretted the fact that I was the only person she had had sex with. She said no and that led to more discussion where I cautiously admitted that the thought of her having sex with another man was a turn-on for me. Karen is rather strait-laced and she was shocked by that, but not actually upset. She said it was never going to happen, but despite that it did become a subject of occasional pillow talk for us. It always got me hard and she was invariably wet, so I did hope that if the right circumstances (on holiday, a few drinks with an attractive "mentor" couple) came along something might just happen.

Part of me was worried by the approach from Mike, but another part of me was excited. I remember lying awake one night thinking about it. My ideal scenario has always been Karen with a stranger, so the danger of any emotional involvement is greatly reduced. Clearly that wasn't the case here and I was aware of and apprehensive about the potential for disaster.

I tried to imagine how I would feel if Karen came to me and said she was interested in taking up my offer of her getting some experience and then explained that Mike has been hitting on her. If it came to the crunch would I agree or try and stop it?

I had deep and serious reservations, but at the same time I have to admit that thinking about the possibility got me hard. I imagined a conversation between Karen and I, which in turn led to me having a conversation with Mike where the ground rules were established. A date would be agreed, he would come round to our house and we would take Karen up to the bedroom and take it in turns to fuck her. Mike would ride her bareback and cum in her pussy and then I would add my sperm to the load inside her. I came very quickly and easily thinking about that.

I said nothing but continued to check Karen's phone whenever I could. I got a surprise one Saturday when I saw a gap of over twenty four hours with no texts. That made me wonder whether some had been deleted, so I became more diligent in checking her phone.

Then on the Monday her phone went while she was out of the room. I hurriedly checked it, saw there was a text from Mike and opened it.

I'm sorry about last week but part of me isn't sorry. Hope you understand. xxx

I stared at the words with an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Clearly something had happened, but the text didn't tell me what. I went through into the room I use as a home office and pretended to do some work, but really just thought about the possibilities.

Had he tried it on with Karen and she had rebuffed him and he was now apologising? Or had they been intimate and he was apologising for the way they were deceiving their respective spouses?

I knew I would have to ask Karen about it, but decided to leave it until we were in bed. Karen is much more comfortable talking about intimate stuff when the lights are off, so I felt we were more likely to have an open and honest discussion then.

I put that shyness down to her conservative upbringing; there is a sexy side to her nature, though she tends to keep it hidden. We have occasional photo sessions which invariably get her deliciously wet and from time to time she will go pantyless and flash her charms at me while we are out and about. Although she is normally polite and well-spoken, in bed, in the heat of passion, she has started to use some very explicit language, which both of us find a turn-on.

Not that tonight looked like being an occasion for explicit language. It could be the start of the break-up of our marriage. I didn't think that was likely, but had to admit it was a possibility.

"Can I ask you something about your phone?"

"You mean that text from Mike?" Karen replied. I should have realised that she would know the text from Mike had been opened and read before she saw it.

"I know you've read it and I'm sorry I should have mentioned it earlier, but I didn't know what to say and how you would feel about it. Something did happen, but something else didn't. Let me explain."

She said that Mike had invited himself round again and she had said OK, figuring that it was just for a coffee and that her worries about other motives were over the top.

We were laid on our backs almost touching and Karen turned on her side facing away from me. That's her favourite position for pillow talk. I'm not sure why but our most intimate conversations are invariably with Karen laid on her side and me snugly in place behind her in the spoons position. I think the fact that she isn't facing me gives her a feeling of anonymity which allows her to speak more freely than she might otherwise do.

Whatever the reason it certainly worked tonight. Karen explained that they had been stood in the kitchen preparing two cups of coffee and Mike came up behind her.

"He didn't say anything, he just moved in close behind me, slid his hands up and cupped my breasts. I was so surprised I just froze. He began to knead them, at the same time kissing the back of my neck. I started to wriggle and told him to stop, but he just continued. And I could feel his erection pressing against me. He wasn't being crude and rubbing it against me, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was hard.

Then his right hand went down inside my skirt and straight into my knickers. It was so quick and so bold that at first I didn't react. Then I grabbed hold of his arm, pulled it away and told him to leave. He apologised profusely, but I insisted he left and he went rather sheepishly."

Karen paused and I could tell there was more she wanted to say, so I asked what happened next.

"I was upset, so I went upstairs I laid on the bed and I must admit I cried a bit." She paused again before continuing. "Then I slid my hand inside my knickers just like Mike had done and I played with myself until I came."

In some ways her reaction seemed odd, but I could understand that she had been both upset and aroused. It must have been upsetting that he had made a move on her, but arousing because it had been over twenty years since another man had touched her. I said as much, but in the darkness I could sense she was shaking her head in reply.

"No, I wasn't upset because he tried it on. I was upset because his advances excited me. As soon as he touched my breasts my nipples became hard and he must have realised that. And when he got his hand in my knickers I didn't close my legs and he fingered my pussy and it was wet. I was very aroused - and he must have known that I was."

To be honest at this stage I was also very aroused. In a mirror image of how Mike's erection had been pressed against her, my own rock hard cock was now stiff against my wife's back. She reached back and stroked my thigh encouragingly, so I reached between her legs and found a wet and willing vagina.

"So it turned you on," I said guiding my penis so that it nuzzled against her pussy.

"Yes," she said, pushing back encouragingly against me.

"How much?" I asked, thrusting into her, the act of penetration drawing a delicious startled gasp from her.

"How much?" I repeated. "Enough to make you realise you want another cock?"

"Not Mike!" she exclaimed.

"No, not Mike, but maybe someone else."

"Yes, yes, maybe," she babbled, beginning to shudder and shake.

"No, don't say maybe. Say it properly." A massive orgasm racked through her body and I shot my load as she uttered the decisive words.

"Yes, yes I'll do it, I'll spread my legs for another man and let him fuck my married pussy."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"That didn't work did it?" Karen exclaimed, turning towards me with an ironic smile as we entered our hotel room.

"No, a complete anti-climax if you'll pardon the pun. We should have realised that on a weekend the hotel would be mainly couples and that you sitting on your own in the hotel bar was a waste of time. Next time we'll try midweek when there will be a lot more single men about."

"Oh, you think there's going to be a next time, do you?" Karen said, arching her eyebrows at me.

"I hope so," I replied. "What do you think?"

"There might be," she teased, my cock stiffening at her response.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Karen continues the story

"What can I get you madam?" the barman enquired.

"What white wines do you have?" I stared fixedly at the barman, deliberately avoiding the gaze of the man hovering next to me, then groaned inwardly when he still barged his way into the conversation.

"Get the lady a Bordeaux," he ordered, smiling in a self-satisfied way. I started to protest, but he spoke over me.

"Don't worry, you'll love this," he paused for effect. "Full-bodied and fruity," he said, and for a dreadful moment I thought he was going to add "Just like you". He didn't, but the way he looked me up and down made it perfectly clear what he was thinking.

I looked at him more closely. He was probably in his early fifties, so about ten years older than me. And did he think there was something attractive in hair growing in all the wrong places? A profusion of grey hairs had escaped from his nasal passages, a few more sprang from the end of his nose and a jungle of them ran round the edge of his ears.

He pushed the glass of wine towards me and urged me to try it. I raised the glass to my lips.

"Full-bodied and fruity," he repeated, smiling lasciviously. I put it down, paused for effect and then pushed it away.

"I'd say it's cloying, syrupy and past its best." I turned away from my follically challenged admirer and breathed a sigh of relief when I heard him walk away. Having been married for twenty years I'm not used to dealing with advances, and spurning this man in such a bold (almost cruel) way wasn't like me, but tonight was different - I'd had a couple of drinks and was a bit wound up.

The barman whisked the unwanted glass away and my eyes met those of another man. He raised an eyebrow and gave a quiet smile.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I quite enjoyed that." I shrugged.

"The wine wasn't actually that bad, but I'm sorry I just wanted rid of him."

"You shouldn't apologise, he was a bit arrogant," He smiled again. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but that might be asking for trouble."

I studied him carefully - mid-thirties, decent build and looks, smart, but casual clothes - he ticked most of the boxes.

"No, a drink from you would be fine," I replied looking him confidently in the eye. In truth confidence was the last thing I felt. My heart was racing because a faint stirring in his blue-grey eyes confirmed that the sub-text to our conversation had been understood.

The barman was lingering nearby and I had an uncomfortable feeling that he was trying to eavesdrop and satisfy his curiosity as to where this conversation was heading. I wasn't having that, so I suggested that we move to a table.

I knew that could be interpreted as me being rather forward, so as soon as we sat down I apologised and said I thought the barman was eavesdropping and added that anyway I'm not much of a one for perching on bar stools.

"I hadn't exactly noticed, but, now you say it, he was loitering near us wasn't he."

He introduced himself as Steve and I said my name was Carole, only just managing to suppress a smile at having borrowed my best friend's name. He asked if I was staying at the hotel and I said no, I was supposed to be meeting a friend, but her car had broken down so I was left on my own. I'm not very good at lying, so I switched the conversation and asked why he was here.

"There's a medical conference which I'm attending. It's sponsored by a drug company, so the accommodation is rather better than normal for this sort of thing."

We chatted a bit more, all fairly light stuff, but we both had wedding rings, so there were cautious references to our spouses. Basically we acknowledged that we were married, but the fact that it only got the briefest of mentions was rather telling.

Steve was pleasant company. He slipped in several compliments without going over the top. We both knew the unspoken agenda, but he kept the conversation light and never became too forward. I don't like it when men get pushy with you, but fortunately Steve wasn't like that.

Nevertheless the conversation did start to flag slightly and being the man Steve probably felt the need to be in charge and keep the momentum going. It was approaching ten o'clock when he looked round the bar and said it was getting a bit noisy and did I want to go somewhere quieter. I asked where he had in mind.

"My room would be nice"

I can't pretend it was an unexpected suggestion, but somehow I couldn't manage a reply. My heart was pounding and I was worried Steve would be able to hear it. I felt tongue-tied and couldn't meet Steve's gaze, all I could manage was a brief nod.

He stood and we left the bar. It was reasonably busy now, though hardly crowded. There were a few women, but it was mostly men, doubtless many of them doctors here for the same conference.

As we crossed the floor I caught the knowing appraisal of three men sat at a table. Perhaps I was reading too much into it, (men look women up and down all the time), but there seemed to be a touch of envy in their assessment. I felt they had read the situation correctly and envied Steve as the lucky conference goer who had dropped on his feet and was going to score. Nice work if you could get it - a sponsored freebie during the day and a willing woman to share your nice, crisp hotel bed in the evening.

The hotel lobby was quiet, but nevertheless we had to share the elevator with an older couple. The ride to the fifth floor seemed to take forever and it was probably my imagination, but I felt my status as an adulterous wife must be obvious to everyone.

Fortunately the corridor leading to Steve's room was deserted, and in fact the plush carpeting meant we completed the walk in an eerie silence. As Steve slid his keycard through the lock I was aware that my heart was beating much faster than normal.

At first he put the main room light on, but killed that after he had switched a couple of table lamps on. I was annoyed to find that I was trembling as he turned towards me, then without any preliminaries he took me in his arms and kissed me.

At first I stood rather stiffly, then I tried to respond. That must have encouraged him because one hand slid to my breasts and started to squeeze and knead them.

His next step was to slide his hand downwards, and rub my pubic mound through my dress. I know it will sound odd, but I was startled by the reality which hit me when his hand slid up the front of my dress and he cupped my pussy through my knickers.

I took a step backwards, forcing Steve to remove his hand. Obviously surprised he asked if I was alright and then I started to cry.

He sat me down on the edge of the bed and again asked if I was alright. I stuttered yes in reply, then nodded when he asked if I wanted some water. A couple of sips helped calm me down and Steve was very kind, stressing that I should take my time.

"I'm sorry, I must have scared you, it's just that I've never done anything like this before. Can I tell you something?" I asked, feeling an odd urge to confide in him.

"Of course you can," Steve said gently. "The reality is that we'll probably never meet again and anyway my job means that I'm used to confidential information staying just that - confidential."

Looking back I realise Steve said exactly what I wanted to hear and I started to unburden myself.

"My husband is the only person I've ever had sex with, so tonight is a big step for me. I thought I was ready for it, but now I'm not sure."

"That's okay, you don't have to do anything."

"But my husband wants me to," I blurted out. "Tonight was his idea, but it seems a bit weird to me."

So I explained to Steve that I'd been a virgin when I met Paul, but after we had been married for several years he had shocked me by cautiously admitting to being turned on by the thought of me having sex with another man. I said nothing was going to happen, but we started to use it in our pillow talk and then in a bit of role playing and I had to admit that it always got me wet and resulted in very good sex.

Finally about three months ago we went for a weekend away and I agreed to go to the hotel bar on my own and see if anyone hit on me. The result was an anticlimax - it was a weekend, the bar was full of couples and I sat on my own for a while and then went back to our room.

So we realised that midweek was a better bet for our purposes. Then Paul spotted that this medical conference was on and suggested that it would be ideal because there would be a number of well-educated men with a better than average interest in their personal health.

"So you've got a room here and your husband is waiting there for you?" Steve asked. I nodded in reply. "I'm guessing the plan wasn't to have a threesome, but for you to go back to him after you have had sex?"

"Yes, ideally he said he would like to watch, but that was too weird for me. Do you think it's weird?"

"Yes and no," Steve said. "I can understand what you're saying, but you're being very honest with me, so I have to be honest and admit that I have fantasized about a threesome where my wife is sandwiched between myself and another man."

I looked questioningly at Steve.

"So you understand where my husband is coming from?"

"Yes, I do," he admitted. "But what you've said so far has all been about what your husband wants. You haven't said what you want; are you just doing this to please him?"

"I don't know. Part of me is curious, but another part of me says you're nearly forty and happily married. If I was ever going to do this the right time was ten years ago when I still had my looks." Steve interrupted me.

"You still have your looks. There's no question of that - I guessed you were about thirty years old. And that's the truth, not flattery." I didn't say anything to that. I go the gym regularly, so I've kept my figure and my girlfriends all say that I look younger than I am.