I write stories that celebrate the cuckold hot wife life style. I also try to write romantic stories. Despite their alternative lifestyle my hot wives and their cuckold husbands always have a deep and abiding love for each other.
Every one of us is a unique individual. We enjoy different kinds of music, art, food and recreational activities. We also enjoy a variety of sexual desires and fantasies. These differences are neither good nor bad, they're just different. If you can accept that you might enjoy this story. If sexual desires that vary from your own offend you or make you uncomfortable I strongly suggest that you find something else to read.
People sometimes get confused and make decisions that they later regret. That of course is part of the ongoing drama of life. It also provides the conflict that makes a story interesting.
Jeanne, my wife of twenty-seven years and I had just finished doing the supper dishes. We didn't need to wash them by hand, we had a dishwasher. We chose to do it because it was a habit, a pleasant habit. For years Jeanne and I along with our daughters, Jodie and Tricia had done them every night together.
Jodie and Tricia were now gone. They'd graduated from college, Jodie a year ago and Tricia two years ago. Both of them had good jobs and nice apartments. They were on their own and Jeanne and I were now on our own.
For Jeanne and me, washing the dishes together was one way to relive the fond memories of the past.
Don't misunderstand what I'm telling you. We weren't wallowing in despair because our daughters were grown and gone. We were both only forty-nine years old and leading full vibrant lives. I ran a small but very successful accounting office and Jeanne was a legal secretary for one of our city's most prominent law firms. I managed to play eighteen holes of golf three times a week and Jeanne belonged to a fitness club and worked out almost every day.
Still we were growing older. I had a middle aged paunch and my hair was thinning. While Jeanne was still a very sexy and beautiful woman, she was starting to find an occasional gray hair and lines and wrinkles were beginning to appear around her eyes and mouth.
After we finished drying and putting the dishes away we wiped off the counter tops and cleaned the sink. Once that was done Jeanne turned to me. Taking a deep breath, she said; "Micheal, I'd like to talk to you in the living room."
The serious tone of my wife's voice concerned me. Suddenly worried that something was gravely wrong, I said; "Yes, of course."
We walked quickly into the living room. Expecting that Jeanne would sit next to me, I sat on the couch. She surprised me and sat in the arm chair across from the couch. This heightened my anxiety.
For what seemed like an eternity, but was most likely only a few seconds, Jeanne stared at me. Feeling even more apprehensive, I waited. Finally she began. "Michael, I suspect that what I'm about to say is going to shock you and probably upset you. I'm asking, no begging you to please hear me out before you respond."
Now overwhelmed with alarm and barely managing to maintain my composure, I answered; "All right, I'll try."
"Thank you." Jeanne smiled and then she took a deep breath."Michael, I'm going to have an affair."
I looked at my wife with a shocked expression and said; "What did you just say?"
Obviously trying to maintain her calm, Jeanne repeated her statement. "I'm planning to have an affair."
"I don't understand? Are you telling me that you're in love with another man?"
Vehemently shaking her head, Jeanne answered; "No absolutely not! It's just going to be sex."
"Just going to be sex? You're telling me that you're planning to start fucking some other guy just for the fun of it?" I was starting to get angry.
Jeanne said, "Michael try to control your temper. Please listen to me."
"Control my temper! Shit Jeanne, you're telling me that you're going to cheat on me."
"No I'm not."
"You just told me that you're going to start fucking another man. That's cheating."
"No it's not. It's only cheating if I do it behind your back."
I stared at my wife for a moment and then slowly shaking my head, I said; "Jeanne, what's gotten in to you? This is crazy. You're going to tear my heart out if you do this."
"Michael, you're taking this all wrong. I still love you. You're the only man I'll ever love. This is just something that I need to do for myself. When we got married I was a virgin. You weren't. You've experienced other women. I've never experienced another man. I've decided that's an experience I'd like to have. If it's going to happen I have to do it now while I'm still young enough to attract another man."
"Jeanne, what are you talking about? You lost your interest in sex at least tens years ago."
"What do you mean?"
"It's been ten years since you've shown any desire to have sex, at least with me."
"Don't be silly, of course I've been interested in sex."
"Really? When was the last time you initiated sex? When was the last time you gave me a blow job? When was the last time you let me eat your pussy? When was the last time we made love in any way other than the missionary position? When was the last time you even let me see you naked?"
My questions struck home. Clearly shaken, Jeanne stared at me. The silence was deafening. Finally she quietly answered; "I'm sorry Micheal. I know I haven't been the best wife in this area for a while. I guess that sex for us just grew stale."
"Stale? Who's fault is that Jeanne? How many times have I suggested things we could try that might spice up our lovemaking. I'll tell you how many. Lots of times, I've done it lots of times and every time I did it you shot me down."
"Michael, don't you understand? That's what I'm doing now. I'm doing this for us. This is going to rekindle my interest in sex. When this affair is over, I'm going to be your loving wife again and you're going to get more blow jobs than you can possibly imagine."
"But another man is going to get them first, isn't he Jeanne."
"Micheal, please understand. I need this."
"You need this. You know what Jeanne, you're not the only one who could use some extra sex. How about if I go out and get a little on the side too?"
"Don't be silly. Look at you Michael. You're losing your hair and you have a middle aged paunch. What woman would want you?"
Appalled by that statement, I stood up. "Well then, there we have it. Apparently I don't do it for you anymore, do I Jeanne? I think this conversation has come to an end."
I turned and started to walk out of the room, but after a few steps I stopped and turned back to my wife. "Jeanne, when is this affair going to begin?"
Clearly upset and having to work to hold herself together, Jeanne quietly said; "Tomorrow night, I have a date."
"A date, tomorrow night; so you've already selected the lucky guy."
"Yes." Jeanne answered in a whisper.
"So who is he?"
Jeanne stared at me for a moment and then she shook her head and said; "No Michael, this has nothing to do with you. This is for me. Who he is is none of your business."
"What! None of my business? Tomorrow night my wife of twenty-six years, the mother of my two daughters, is going to cuckold me with another man and you have the audacity to tell me that his identity is none of my business! Jeanne I apparently no longer know who you are." On that note I turned and and stormed out of the room.
Woodworking is one of my passions. I have a shop in my basement. I took refuge there. I was building a coffee table for Jodie, my youngest daughter. I was setting a piece of wood that was going to become a leg into my lathe when I sensed Jeanne's presence. I froze.
In a whisper, she said; "His name is Derek Fisher. He's a lawyer, but he works for a different firm. We've had several lunches together. He's married."
I turned. "He's married?"
"Yes, I think it's better that way. It reduces the chances for emotional involvement on his part."
"It also means that you're not only going to defile our marriage, you're also going to defile his."
"Michael, why can't you understand this?"
"Oh I do understand. I have a belly and I'm losing my hair. You're not attracted to me anymore."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It came out wrong. Michael, I still find you very attractive. You're the man of my dreams."
"If I'm the man of your dreams then why are you going to fuck someone else tomorrow night?"
"Please understand, this is an experience I need to have."
"Jeanne, I have been faithful to you for the entire twenty-six years we've been married and my intention was to remain faithful to you until the day I died. I will never understand what you're doing."
"Michael, I have to do this."
"Then I don't think we have anything more to talk about, because I will never give you my blessing."
Slowly nodding, Jeanne said; "Very well." And then she turned and walked back up the stairs."
The next day was Wednesday. I supposed that Mr. Derek Fisher had to take my wife out on a week night rather than a weekend so that he could tell his wife that he was attending a meeting of some sort.
I'd been much too angry to even consider sharing a bed with Jeanne so I spent the night in Jodie's old room. As it turned out I was too agitated to sleep. I tossed and turned all night and finally gave up at 5:00 am. After a quick shower I dressed and was out of the house by 5:30. I admit I was trying to avoid Jeanne.
My anxiety about what was going to happen that night made it difficult to focus on my work. The minutes crawled by. I passed some of the time by trying to figure out what I was going to do if Jeanne really did carry out her threat to go out on this date.
Unfortunately I had one account who's file I absolutely had to update that day, so I was forced to try to focus my attention and complete that task.
By the time I was finished updating the file it was almost 5:30. I didn't really want to see Jeanne before she went out, but I knew that wasn't a choice. If I didn't see her I was going to have to spend the entire evening wondering if she really did do it.
Since I didn't actually know what time Jeanne was planning to leave, I hurried home. I pulled into our garage at 6:05. I was relieved to see that Jeanne's Honda was still parked in her stall.
