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Part 2
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LOVING WIVES

Choice Number 1 Or Choice Number 2

Choice Number 1 Or Choice Number 2

by marriedmindgames
19 min read
3.1 (23400 views)
adultfiction

[NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: In my humble opinion, the best way to get the fullest sense of understanding and even enjoyment from this story is to read it through from beginning to end, and then return to read it a second time. I promise, if you follow that formula you will experience many "ah-ha" moments that will make you smile and think and perhaps even discover added layers of personal revelation and understanding that can make a difference in your life! Enjoy.]

*****

Some call it payback. Others refer to it as karma. The analytical minds reference it as irony. There are those who even smirk at what they see and cluck their tongues with a mocking tone asserting that justice has been served. At the moment of my crisis, I could not have cared less what you call it. My concern was that I found myself caught in the crosshairs of a moment that I had not seen coming due to either my own arrogance and carelessness or the crafty maneuvers of my wife that would leave me fucked like I had never been fucked before.

This perplexing moment was rooted in what had become suddenly clear to me and I had absolutely no idea how to respond. Sir Walter Scott's words were ringing loud and clear in my mind. "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive!"

THE MOMENT OF CONCEPTION

My adorable and sweet wife, Liz sat on the couch swiping away on her phone tracking the latest posts on FaceBook. As I sat across the room from her, the television droning on in the background, I grew bored and struggled to focus on my work. My mind wandered and with a few clicks of the mouse I jumped from the task of completing the presentation I would deliver the next day to a couple of news sites about sports. These ate up some time but did not inspire me to get back to work.

I glanced over the laptop screen to Liz sitting across from me, cuddling her phone in her hands as if it were a newborn puppy. She glowed, as usual. A remarkable woman in so many ways; bright, witty, able to make everyone feel like they are her best friend. Although she was extremely social, she was a source of eternal frustration to those who tried to flirt with her beyond clear boundaries she kept to as a faithful, loving wife. But her personality and figure were a constant magnet to most any man (and a few women) who was in her presence for any time at all.

Different folks were drawn to flirtatious hopes with her due to different things. Sometimes it was her blue eyes, sparkling and warm, that could make you feel like she was channeling excessive acceptance your direction. For others it was the way she laughed and giggled which could induce someone else in a completely different room to join in the moment without even knowing why; other than the sound of her inviting cackle. To any man who had any sense of sexual desire, her body was the most seductive attribute. She had been a key player on her state champion High School volleyball team. She also had excelled on the swim team. She worked hard, but admitted that she was just blessed to be born with her athletic abilities and the body necessary to compete. Tall (5' 9") and slender (150 pounds), she had a body that included curves thanks to a firm ass and breasts that pushed the limits of her 36c bra cups.

As she sat there, just glowing with cuteness, I thought about putting the laptop aside and taking her to bed. If I had done that, perhaps the course of history might have changed. But I did not do that. I am not even sure to this day why I did not do that. I could have seduced her to bed, enjoyed a wonderful fuck, and then gotten up early in the morning to finish up the presentation.

Instead, as my eyes enjoyed the view of her in those cute yoga pants and braless nighttime tee, my arousal dared me pursue a different path. I clicked on a popular porn site. I took a few moments to mix my real time desire to fuck Liz with the visual stimulation of clicking on nude photos of women I found with a search of "hot athletic babes."

Liz had no idea I looked a porn. She never asked, I never volunteered the fact that I did. It was an occasional thing that never seemed threatening. On this particular night, I was savoring the photos of women who reminded me of Liz. The blonde girls with blue eyes. The large pink nipples that formed well rounded circles positioned high up on the breasts. The bottoms that seemed to invite me to snuggle up behind and wriggle my hard dick between those cheeks. Each click of the mouse driven by my lust, seeking temporary arousal until the moment I would work out my needs with Liz.

I clicked away. Then, purely by accident, I clicked on a tab that took me to a strange screen that I knew nothing about. It invited me to enter the chat room and enjoy the company of others with mutual desires. My cock was already halfway erect due to the photos and I was ready to transition to Liz and complete my pleasures with her. Again, I had a chance. I should have just exited and gone on my way to lead my sweet wife to our bed and enjoy the passion of fucking her. But I didn't.

I made my way through a series of prompts until I had acquired my username and password. I honestly had no idea what to expect. It was an accidental click and I was curious. Nothing more than that. When I arrived at the menu which offered me all sorts of options for rooms to chat in, a certain room caught my attention: "Adorable Wives." I was naive. I mistook the title to represent a room where 'adorable wives' gathered to chat about sex. The thought immediately occurred to me that I could perhaps ask a woman or two a few questions about what brings pleasure to them and see if I could learn a new trick or two for bringing pleasure to Liz. That really was my intent. To bring pleasure to Liz, not to use Liz to pleasure others.

Upon my arrival in the chatroom, I discovered that the occupants were mostly guys. Initially I sat passively just reading the comments scrolling up my screen as the chat unfolded before my eyes. I quickly realized this was not what I expected. I could have left the room then. But I didn't. I stayed and gathered my balance as I began to absorb the flow of filthy thoughts shared openly in the room.

That night, I did not type a word. I just sat there and read what others were typing. It was like I was a voyeur able to eavesdrop on conversations that definitely were not appropriate for most ears. It was like being able to read minds and see the truth of what men thought about their wives and the wives of others. Pictures would migrate up the screen as comments chased behind, comments typed by men lusting for the wife of another man. It was absolutely riveting. So much so that when Liz got up from the couch to go to bed and stop by to give me a kiss goodnight, I flipped the screen to the window showing my presentation work and acted as if I were still working. I let her walk away, my eyes enjoying the view of her sweet ass wiggling in her yoga pants, and off to bed without me. I could have gotten up and joined her. But I did not. Instead, as soon as she cleared the room I quickly returned to the chatroom.

I sat there for a while longer mesmerized by the convergence of comments and photos. Men posting pics of their wives and then basking in the afterglow of total strangers making comments that ranged from edgy flattery to the most vulgar and obscene thoughts that in my opinion, at that time, should never be expressed beyond the dark corners of secrets one keeps in their own mind.

In what seemed like an instant, over an hour came and went. I tried to return to my work on the presentation, but I was utterly preoccupied. Not only did the echoes of that chatroom continue to bounce around in my mind, but my swollen cock throbbed in need of relief. Even then I could have gotten up, woken Liz up if she was asleep, and gotten a quickie to fulfill my desire. But I did not do that. Instead, I returned to the chatroom and masturbated as I watched men interact in their lusts for each other's wives. The photos... the comments... the unspeakable revelations. I shot a load that nearly got away from me and onto the keyboard. I was surprised at how forceful those spurts of cum were and equally amazed at how good the cumshot felt.

MOMENT BY MOMENT, EVENTUALLY ADDS UP

Over the course of the next few weeks, I increasingly returned to the chatroom. That first night I had only been a passive observer. But in the days and nights that followed, I began to engage. I found myself offering my comments about other men's wives whose pictures floated across the chatroom. There were a few that might compete with Liz, but for the most part the women were quite average. Yet there I sat and allowed my mind to freely think of those women in sexual ways that nobody who knew me would ever think possible of me. Each time I would continue to engage in the chat dialogue until I finally masturbated and would shoot my load of cum over thoughts of other women.

Although I engaged in no debate or discussion in seeking a truthful position on the matter, I felt that technically this was not cheating. Even though I felt guilty each time I masturbated while chatting about those other men's wives, I would quickly re-convince myself that it was harmless fun. Although I was exchanging the pleasures of fucking Liz with masturbating, I rationalized the trade by telling myself that Liz needed the break from my oversexed appetite anyways. I wanted it everyday. She was happy to do it only once or twice a week. This, ah yes THIS, was a welcome compromise that definitely was a win-win for us both. Well, at least that is what I told myself.

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I should not have been surprised, but was, when the moment of diminishing pleasure began knocking on the door. At first, just a light tap as my fingers tapped away on the keyboard. I found myself becoming more assertive and filthy in my comments. The more intense the response of the guy posting the photo of his wife the more pleasure I felt. I became transfixed by the photos. I studied them like an expert able to make a snap judgment which might take all others much longer to formulate. I discovered a new gear of lust and cock-stiffening pleasure when the men posting the pics would respond to my comments and jerk off to the filthy thoughts conjured up between us. Diminishing pleasure knocked a bit louder when I would become disappointed that a guy would not interact.

Each moment piled upon the next left me numb to the boundaries I had violated. Each new moment dared me to push further. Each new moment seemed so slight, so harmless. Each new moment buried the previous moments out of sight. Before I knew it, I found myself more likely to masturbate during chatroom exchanges than fucking my own wife. It felt good. I felt bad.

It was in that moment, the one when I actually did truly feel bad about this activity from which Liz was excluded, that the seduction of the diminishing pleasures dangled a boundary over the edge of the cliff, inviting me to give it the push needed to eliminate it. I wasn't entirely sure how to do it. At first I shook my head no as if that would summon up the will power to just walk away. I could have stopped right there. But I didn't.

Using the chatroom icons offering me the easiest of pathway to complete the journey, I flipped through the photo album on my laptop. Picture after picture of Liz on my screen. My fingers nervous. My will unsure. My cock, opening the door to diminishing pleasures, urged me forward. Of course, under the influence of lust, my mind lost out to my cock.

There was a photo of Liz on my screen. She was wearing a white tank top and pink shorts, something she would only wear around the house. She was smiling and her face was radiant as she held in her hands the first few tomatoes picked from the backyard garden she was so proud of. Her arms were extended and the tomatoes neatly nestled in the palms of her hands. The way her arms extended also meant that she was pushing her breasts together that made the view of her normally delicious cleavage all the more appetizing. Her shorts were snug against her, daring to offer to the discerning eye the undeniable impression of her smooth slit. She had that engaging smile and glint in her eyes. It was a GREAT photo of her. Although she had mentioned to me more than once that she would never wear those shorts again, I had convinced her each time that I welcomed and encouraged her to wear them again for me. She knew what those shorts did to me.

When I clicked, I felt a rush that was new a fresh. I saw Liz move from my computer to the chatroom. In an instant I experienced the other side of the comment exchange as I watched the screen quickly scroll the thoughts of others as they drooled over Liz. Initially, I felt almost assaulted by the barrage of comments, a few polite ones sprinkled in amongst the flood of the quick and crude.

And for the first time, I masturbated and enjoyed a release of cum as the comments in the room centered on MY wife. Somehow I convinced myself that it was less cheating to include her than it was to lust over other men's wives. At least that is what I tried to convince myself of, with very temporary success that only lasted to the point of my cock spurting a load of cum. But, it became my routine.

THE MOMENT OF BIRTH

Whether it was foolish ignorance or suspension of good judgment or perhaps the statistical improbability that seemed so sure of a deal, I never gave a thought to the fact that there could be somebody in the chatroom who might actually know and recognized Liz in the photo I posted. Oh sure, NOW I know. But during those moments of the secret pleasure-seeking chats, that reality never infringed upon my fantasy chats about her. Not until the day my senses were shocked by a comment made by someone with the username, "FantasyFuckLiz."

When I first noticed the username it was a bit unnerving, but my cock passed it off as pure coincidence and my mind followed along. Liz was gone shopping and I knew I would be home alone for hours. I settled in for what I expected to be a long stay in the chatroom with hopes to edge my cock for a long season of arousal as men commented on Liz. With my shorts peeled open and my cock laying exposed on my lap, I anxiously joined the chatroom and moments later posted the pic of Liz.

I sat back and squeezed my soft, mushroom cocktip between my thumb and index finger as I began to follow the comments scrolling on the screen. After a few minutes, I saw the message that would lead to the abyss which would confront me later.

FantasyFuckLiz: Buddy, those tits look even better when she wears a snug tee

I enjoyed the initial jolt of lust that came with most comments made about her pic. But this comment seemed to insinuate something further. At first I interpreted the comment as a subtle request to see another pic of her. Even though other comments were offered by others, I was fixated on this comment about Liz in a snug tee. About the time I was acclimating my senses, another comment flickered up on the screen.

FantasyFuckLiz: You know, the Disney tee of Mickey & Minnie kissing, their lips smacking over that fucking sweet cleavage!

I heard an audible gasp cross my lips as the comment registered with me. I read it again. I froze. I just froze as my mind actually raced ahead of my cock for once as I sat in front of the screen revealing the comments made about Liz. My mind was screaming "STOP!" My cock actually paused to defer for a moment... then throbbed in a way that pushed my good judgment to the side. It was impulsive and inviting and absolutely reckless, but I moved my hands to the keyboard and considered a response. Then . . .

FantasyFuckLiz: The way her tits sway when she is jogging in the park and her hot ass wiggling ... wish she was wearing THOSE shorts then!

Another gasp. Another moment frozen in place. The thought pulsating in my mind: He knows Liz! The screen continued to fill with comments from multiple others expressing all sorts of vulgar and filthy thoughts about my wife. But the only comments that were registering were the ones made by this specific chatter.

I started and stopped at least a dozen sentences. I had to respond but I just could not find the words. Where do I start? The comment? The username? The implied personal knowledge of Liz? I settled on a non-confrontational approach.

JerkingToYourWife: Always glad to help out a buddy who has an eye for the truly arousing things in life.

I waited. Other comments from others continued. Then . . .

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FantasyFuckLiz: No single word could be better spoken ~ TRULY

And with that, he left the room! I was left dazed by his 'one word' wonder and before I could make a move, he logged off! I felt an uneasy mixture of excitement and anxiety. What the hell just happened? For the first time since I had been posting that pic of Liz, I myself left the chatroom without cumming. There was something unsettling about this exchange.

THE MOMENT GROWS

Less than a week later, I was caught off guard by an email I received. It shook me to my foundation. The subject box read, "Relax, You and I are Good." I did not recognize the email address it was sent from, turnaboutisfairplay@... I clicked to open it. SHOCK! The first thing my eyes registered as the email opened was THAT pic of Liz embedded right at the top of the email! I nervously scrolled down and read the caption below the pic.

Let's do Liz together...It's been a dream of mine for years. ~ FFL

I was numb. I knew FFL was from the chatsite. I reconciled the email coming through the chat site possibly. Now I was scrambling trying to interpret this message. As much as 'do Liz together' intrigued me, it was that other phrase that was front and center for me: "been a dream of mine for years." I could only assume from the comment that FFL actually knew Liz! It was not something I was at all ready for.

I tried to think things through. I knew I was potentially playing with fire now. I decided to be cautious and see if I could defer the issue a little down the road. I replied to the email with a simple response. "Looking forward to sharing more time and thoughts together in the chatroom soon." It took me a moment to click on SEND. When I finally did, I sensed that perhaps I was taking a risk that I should not be taking. I could have stopped right then. But I didn't.

It was two nights later (and several other unsuccessful times awaiting) when FFL arrived in the chatroom. It was surreal as I sat no more than ten feet away from Liz as she swiped away on her cellphone and I tapped away on my keyboard. She and I were so close, yet worlds apart it seemed. FFL and I were in the same (chat) room connected by Liz, yet so very far (I hoped) away from each other. I waited to see if FFL would make the first move. After a brief moment of waiting ...

FantasyFuckLiz: hey buddy... back for more

JerkingToYourWife: hey

FantasyFuckLiz: feeling some Liz-lust here... how about you?

JerkingToYourWife: non-stop here. lol

I tried to come across as being cool with everything, but I was measuring every word. He requested a private chat. I consented.

FantasyFuckLiz: can share a bit more freely here

JerkingToYourWife: share away!

Trying to act unconcerned without typing something stupid that I would regret was my challenge. I felt that I could not afford to lose control or leverage in this dynamic due to fear on my part.

FantasyFuckLiz: actually, was expecting for YOU to share

JerkingToYourWife: you mean something like this?

I clicked to share her photo ... and there was Liz in that sexy, white tanktop and pink shorts.

FantasyFuckLiz: that's a great share for sure, but I suggest something more satisfying than just a photo

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