My name is William, Bill or Will to my friends, and I'm just a normal guy. Really, I am. I'm not the good-looking heartthrob the high school girls drooled over nor do I have any unusual athletic abilities that would place me in the same category. However, don't write me off completely. I'm not bad looking. Maybe a little above average but average is definitely a good adjective. I'm five foot eleven and about 190 pounds. That puts me on the high side of average. I've got brown hair, short and parted neatly which puts me on the nerd side of average. I don't dress trendy. I'm usually wearing jeans and a denim shirt with white socks and loafers. Definitely on the average side of middle class.
I'm reasonably smart; at least I think I am. In high school I maintained a good B average. There's that word average again. I don't have any outstanding, above average abilities. At least I didn't think so until after I got married.
Let me explain. I didn't date much in high school. It wasn't that I didn't want to, I just couldn't get a real date. Just average I guess. I did have a number of nearly sexual encounters with the girls. Once in the back seat of my father's car that I borrowed for a date late in my senior year and another with a girl from another school during an unscheduled party at some guy's house whose parents had left him home alone for the weekend. It was an open invitation and I went along with the crowd.
Both events were short lived. In the car, just after the girl got her hands on my dick and I managed to get my hands on her bare tits, I got a cramp in my leg and the whole scenario quickly fell apart. At the party, a semi-drunk girl got me into an empty bedroom. We had our clothes off and we were on the bed. I was so nervous I couldn't get a decent erection and the girl left disappointed. After I was dressed again and walking down the hallway, she passed me with another guy in tow, headed for the same bedroom.
After high school, I began working on a construction crew. The pay was excellent but the opportunity to meet women not wearing hard hats was scant until the foreman's daughter showed up on the site. Of the twenty guys on the job that day, I was chosen to show her around.
Josie and I were both virgins when we married. I know I was and I believed Josie when she told me she was. After we were married we discovered a couple of things. We both loved sex, we couldn't get enough of it and although I was average in size, I had the ability to last a long time and recover quickly. About size, on a good day, I'm almost six inches in length erect but on most occasions I'm in the five to five and a half inch range. Josie says that's average. I don't know how she knows. On our wedding night, we managed to screw eight times and I came every time. Josie says that's not average. I don't know how she knows that either.
For over two years after the wedding, we fucked like rabbits every chance we could. Any time and anywhere, as long as the chance of getting caught was minimum. Once or twice in the morning before work, again after work before dinner and two or three times over the course of the evening and on the way to bed. All made possible by my less than fifteen-minute recovery time and an oversexed wife. Some therapists might have described our activity as hyper sexuality but it was normal for us and I'm grateful that we found each other.
I managed the pace well but eventually, Josie said it was wearing her out. She concluded, without any input from me, that, if she couldn't keep up the pace, I might be inclined to seek satisfaction elsewhere. Josie is an organizer and a problem solver. Her solution was to take charge of the situation, fuck me as much as she could without straining herself and provide someone else that she found and approved of to pick up the slack.
I didn't respond well at first to her solution. I really had no desire to bed other women. I told her she was enough for me. She countered that her ability to maintain my pace would wane faster than mine and early intervention was the best way to avoid deep problems later, after I became frustrated. She also assured me that I wouldn't necessarily be alone with other women. She fully intended to be part of whatever occurred. She then had the opportunity to rest while I maintained a faster pace.
I thought the whole idea seemed a little screwy but Josie is hard to argue with once she's made up her mind. I grudgingly agreed with her solution but made it clear, while we might entertain another woman on occasion, I was not in favor of adding another man to the equation. She assured me that, if she couldn't keep up with me she certainly couldn't have another man in her bed. So it was settled and Josie went about procuring resources. It wasn't as difficult as it might seem. She drew from a large number of divorcees, frustrated wives, and horny singles. She had interviews and made careful selections.
The next six or seven months went well. Whenever Josie needed a break, she had someone else laying by. Interestingly enough, the sessions with the other women, made me a better lover with Josie. I became more attentive and considerate of her. Our sessions together were more loving and lasted longer. I discovered that cuddling with Josie was very satisfying as were the hand jobs and blowjobs she began to use as substitutes to fucking. Josie actually enjoyed the sex enough that the number of times she provided substitutes declined over time but it did not cease entirely.
Valentine's Day was fast approaching. It would be our fifth Valentine's as married folks and Josie wanted to make it special for me. She told me to expect a surprise. Expecting a surprise seemed like an oxymoron to me but she stuck to her statement and told me not to prepare anything special for her. She would handle everything.
On Friday, Valentine's Day, I left work early, came home, showered and dressed nicely as I had been told to do. I wore a button down shirt with long sleeves, nice slacks with dark socks and almost dress shoes. I planned to finish the outfit with a grey tweed blazer with leather elbows.
When Josie came in, she appraised my effort, rewarded me with a quick kiss and headed for the bedroom to get herself ready. The result was stunning. She had my attention completely but she fended off my attempts to get physical and take new showers. We left for the restaurant about ten minutes later for a seven o'clock reservation.
Josie's choice was a favorite of ours. A small, pub-like environment with a full bar and the best Italian menu in downtown. Betsy, someone we had known since we moved to the area and one of Josie's recruits, handled the orders, the bartending, the serving and the bussing. It was an outstanding meal. Almost two hours later, we finished our overstuffed cannolis while nursing a second bottle of Chianti Classico.
Josie was in no hurry to leave. On the other hand, I could hardly wait to get her home and peek under the little black dress she was wearing. At times like this and other special occasions, she rarely wore underwear and I was itching to verify my supposition. Josie insisted we take our time. "After all," she said, "there's no rush."
At ten o'clock, Betsy announced last call and locked the front door. I looked at her and then Josie. "A little early for last call, isn't it?" I asked. While I was asking, Betsy lowered the lights so that I could hardly see Josie across the table.
"It's a special occasion. A surprise. She's just following the script."
"Script?" I wondered out loud.
"Down Willie," she said, "Patience."
She had never called me Willie before. Something was up and I took her advice.
