Disclosures I Cheat For My Husband

I picked out a pair of spike high heels to go with my short skirt and checked my makeup in the mirror. My "date" was supposed to arrive at my house soon and since this was the first time we'd have sex, I wanted to look especially good. My husband looked at me when I came down stairs and said, "Wow, Hon, you look amazingly hot," then kissed me. "Have a good time."

I smiled and turned allowing him to admire the view of me in the revealing outfit and replied, "I always do. You'll see me in less than an hour."

I've been playing this game most Saturday nights for the last couple of years. I'm a 35-year-old married woman, and I enjoy finding mostly younger men for a good fuck. I don't call what I do cheating, but I suppose if any neighbors knew what was going on, they'd have a different opinion.

Why don't I call this a cheat? Because my husband knows and encourages me.

It started a couple of years ago. When I first married Jason, we were in our early twenties. He was always begging for sex. We fucked five to six times a week, but he easily could have gone more. As we went over the next dozen years, his sex drive decreased and mine increased. For a decade, we mostly matched in our mutual interest for intercourse. However, as time when on, my need for sex continued to increase as his drive waned. It's simply one of nature's cruel fuck ups between the sexes. Men as they age, want less sex, while women want more.

What really got the ball rolling on this arrangement was the day my husband came home early from work and caught me enjoying sex. It wasn't with another man, but with my vibrator. I was lying on the bed, completely naked and pressing the stimulator next to my clitoris with my legs spread wide apart near the edge of a powerful orgasm, when he unexpectedly walked into the room. I must have been so engrossed in the solo sex play; I didn't hear him drive into the garage or even call my name.

"Oh, Francesca, I am sorry," he said as his face reddened from embarrassment.

"What the fuck are you doing home now?" I was pissed. Not only had he killed a really good climax, but he turned to leave. Only a few years before, he'd have been on top of me and ramming his cock into my wet cooter in a split second, if he'd found me that way. Now he was retreating to the living room to let me finish on my own?

It wasn't the first time he'd walked in on me masturbating, but now he was just walking away. I felt hurt.

I tossed on a robe and went out to confront him. "Do you not find me attractive anymore?"

"No, it isn't that at all. You look hotter now that the day we married."

Without wanting to sound too arrogant, he was right. I was a professional ballerina from the age of 16 until I was 22, and I've maintained an athletic build with a zero body-fat figure. I was fond of saying ballerinas have the same eating disorders as professional models, but with twice the attitude.

Since retiring from the stage, I'd opened a fitness and dance center and was in better shape than when I was twenty. On average, from conducting classes and individual training, I work out two hours a day. Friends have told me I look around twenty-five and I still get carded at bars and restaurants.

Since I've been encouraged to describe my appearance, even though it seems egotistical, I can say that I'm tall and slender, but since my retirement from professional dancing, I've managed to take up a practical diet that has added a few nice curves to my figure. My face is also slender, and I have a well-defined and symmetrical cheek bone structure, with no discernable wrinkles.

The only concession I've made to the onslaught of age, has been that I've started wearing glasses. I always have on a pair of black framed spectacles that allows me to rock a naughty librarian vibe. For some reason, it's gotten me even more attention from the male population. I can only imagine why.

"What is it then? Do you just not want to have sex with me?"

He explained that his drive had diminished. He'd seen doctors, but they told him there was nothing physically wrong. He loved me, but he was quite satisfied with once or twice a month.

"But I'm not. I want sex more often than that, Jason."

"I know and I'm sorry. I just can't keep up with you."

He'd made honest efforts at performing cunnilingus, but without him becoming also excited, it was more of a turn-off, and I began to prefer the comfort on my vibrator and vivid imagination.

"So what do you suggest we do? Just pretend that buzzing myself off when your back is turned is normal?"

"No. I'm worried beyond that," he said, and he looked nervous saying it.

"Worried about what?" I had some inkling that he might think I've been screwing around behind his back. I had plenty of opportunities, but had never once been unfaithful.

He explained that given how tempting I looked, coupled with my increasing sexual needs and his inabilities to satisfy them; he was concerned that I'd begin to look elsewhere.

Ordinarily, this might have led to a huge fight, but in the back of my mind, I'd wondered "what if" more than a few times. With some delicate prodding, I admitted to thinking about it.

"I have a suggestion," he said. "I'd rather you had sex with other men and letting me knowing about it, than have you going behind my back."

At first, I refused to even consider the proposal. However, Jason pressed me to explain why it would be so wrong. I said I'd consider it. No sooner had I said that, then he became as aroused as I'd ever seen him.

He opened my robe and began to suck on my breasts, pushing me back onto the sofa. He slowly worked his way down to my pussy and spent the time to bring me to the explosive orgasm; I'd been denied a short time before.

It didn't end there. I was carried into the bedroom, and his cock found its way into my vag. He worked it while he kissed me passionately and again paid attention to my now sensitive nipples. I had an even bigger spasm and relaxed in the comfort of his movements on top of me, until he finally shot his load.

As I was held in his arms, he asked me, "What do you think?"

"Clearly, the idea excites you. Can you live with the idea of me having sex with other men?"

He said that as long as it was only sex, he'd be fine with the idea. We agreed that I'd be with the same man no more than three times, and that he would always know. Just a fuck and nothing else. I had to admit; the idea was beginning to excite me, too. I've often wondered what it would be like to have sex just for the physical gratification without the emotional attachment. Men can do that easily; I've heard them talking at the gym. Why not me?

"There is one other request I'd have, please don't think it's too freaky."

Now anytime a husband says something like that, the idea must be pretty far out there, but I was moving into uncharted water as it was, I agreed to be open-minded.

"I want to be able to watch you."

"How? You'd hide in a closet in a hotel room?"

"No, you'd have sex here, at home. It'd be safer, and I could put a set of video cameras in our spare bedroom."

We'd gone through a phase of video recording our sex acts, and I knew he still enjoyed watching them. But, now with a different man? I was highly reluctant, but agreed to at least give it a try.

A week later, on Saturday, we had our inaugural run. Through the gym part of my business, I knew a man that had been hitting on me for months. I generally dressed in tight sports bra and a pair of tiny shorts that showed off my killer ABS. This guy was no slouch himself. Matt was a tri-athlete that had been getting specialized training and conditioning. He was also about to leave for an extensive tour of Australia, and most likely I wouldn't see again. He never failed to make subtle, suggestive plays for my attention. He'd be prefect.

"Francesca, I was wondering if you could spot me personally this weekend," he asked that morning.

That usually led to some silly banter between us that soared between flirting and him being shot down with the explanation that I was married. The shocked looked on his face was priceless when I said, "My husband isn't going to be home this weekend. I can spot you in my bedroom at 9 PM."

So, that night, I dressed as sexy as hell and waited nervously for Matt to arrive, while my husband waited in a different bedroom monitoring the video equipment.

Matt rang the bell at exactly 9 that night. I invited him in for drinks. He was eager to go at it, but I needed a few shots of vodka to calm myself. I had a lot riding on this encounter. Foremost was, what if Jason changed his mind in mid-fuck and started thinking of me as his slut wife?

By the third round, I realized, there was no backing out. I'd been making out with Matt on the same sofa I'd spread my legs for my husband only days before and knew I was committed. His hands roamed all over my clothed breasts and traveled down to my now drenched pussy.

"Well, let me show you my bedroom," I said in a soft sensual voice.

We made our way upstairs, and he began kissing me as he removed my blouse. I hadn't bothered with a bra, and he held my medium sized, yet well-formed breasts in both of his hands, using his tongue to stimulate my nipples. I began to breathe hard from excitement, while his hands moved down to feel the shape of my ass. "My god, your body is perfect. I love a toned physique like yours," Matt in-between kissing me.

I removed my glasses and allowed them to drop to the carpet. This body was a rock hard as his cock, and I wanted both. Then I noticed a tiny pin point of light coming from a shelf of books on the opposite wall. I knew that we were being watched by Jason.

It may have been the trained performer in me, or maybe I just wanted to give Jason his money's worth, but knowing I was being watched by the man I loved made me even more excited. I was shamelessly horny. I practically pulled off Matt's shirt and reveled in the feel of his solid pects against by naked tits.

His pants rapidly found their way to the floor and his erection into my mouth. It was a wonderfully filthy feeling knowing that my husband was downstairs viewing every bit of my indiscretion with this other man.

"I can't stand it anymore. I need you to take me, now," I nearly demanded.

I was lifted in Matt's power arms and placed onto the bed. My skirt when in a single motion and I was now in only a pair of lace see-through panties. Matt grabbed the waistband of each side and easily tugged them down past my feet. "I love your little dragon tattoo," he said as he kissed it and made ready to explore my enthusiastic clitty.

"You're the only other man to have ever seen it." It was true. I'd gotten it on my right hip a couple of years before from a female tattoo artist, and I have a woman gynecologist. Since the room was also mic'd, I wanted to send a clear message to Jason that the things he'd had as exclusive were about to be shared with other men.

Matt's tongue had barely tasted my lust button when I began a powerful orgasm. I expressed my pleasure by allowing myself to scream like a banshee to the point of near embarrassment. I could feel my heart racing, and I wanted another just like it.

"Whoa, you must have been saving that up."

"No, it's just I never expected to do anything like this. Fuck me. I want you to fuck me hard and rough. Tell me what a bad girl I am."

Matt seemed surprised by my behavior. He'd only known me as a model of proper decorum from my working with him, but once a man gets a slut going, he needs to be prepared for anything she might have in mind.

He went with my lead and raised it up a notch. "You are a dirty cheating tramp. I had no idea what a slut you could be. I bet your husband doesn't know how really dirty you are."

I couldn't help myself; I began to laugh. After I stopped, I said, "He may have some idea, but he never thought I could go so far with it."

Matt may have looked perplexed, but I couldn't have cared less at that point. His cock was big; at least, an inch bigger than Jason's and it felt so good having it slip up and down my shaved cunt. I wrapped my legged tightly around his sculpted torso and aided in our mutual humping.

I came again and made the most of it verbally. It was a performance I'd only fantasized about giving. He came a short time later and kissed me with as much passion as I could tolerate.

He stayed with me for another twenty minutes before I moved him out the front door. I'd enjoyed his services, but now that I'd had my way with this beefcake; I wanted something more. It was a delightful feeling to know that I'd simply used him for raw animal sex and saw him now as nothing more than a sex toy.

In my short robe, I ran to the room where Jason had been observing our actions. I wanted to see the look on his face. No sooner had I opened the door, then he was all over me. My robe was tossed to the floor as he said, "You are a dirty cheating tramp, and I love you for it."

While the scene of Matt and I replayed on the monitor, I was fucked doggy style as we viewed my first act on indiscretion. I never felt so filthy or more alive than I had in years. I achieved organisms numbers three and four that night, this time with Jason; a personal best.

After that night, we were both hooked. I agreed to have sex with other men almost every Saturday night, and it vastly increased Jason's libido. We generally made mad passionate love after I've been fucked by someone else.

On the particular Saturday night, I was first describing; I'd decided to give Jason a special treat. My date for the evening was not a single man or even two. It took some work to arrange, but I'd set up a group bang with three young hot studs. I've never tried more than a one on one situation, but thought if I was going to have a ménage, why stop at à trois?

I barely knew one of the men, Doug, through my connections with another gym and had never come into contact with the others, so I was about to have sex with three complete strangers. I made sure Jason knew it as he listened in. By this point, he'd added video cameras to our living room, since I frequently liked to get the action going there.

This time I started by having each man get naked and saw how many cocks I could get into my mouth at the same time. My desire was to attempt all three, but simple physics and body placement allowed only two at a time. Still, I was able to take in two, then moved to Doug to get them ready for our main event.

I was placed onto the carpet, and I took on each, one at a time for over an hour and half of uninterrupted sex and orgasms. I managed to cum with each of them. Doug was the anchor in that relay and by far the best stamina. He pulled out at the last second and shot his spunk all over my belly "porn star style," at my request. He had no idea why I wanted that to happen, but was more than happy to oblige. I was sure, Jason, would completely enjoy a few good money shots to add to his private porn collection.

The other two managed to recover their erections enough, from watching me being fucked by Doug that they were able to masturbate to get themselves off, and one fired his junk onto my breasts. I rubbed the creamy goo over my nipples and licked my hands clean.

The other one finished our session by exploding directly onto my face. His cum landed heavily on my glasses, dribbled down my cheeks and rolled off my chin.

They thanked me profusely for an amazing evening, and although I'd enjoyed their services, I wasn't interested in seeing any of them again. I rushed to our main bedroom and found Jason masturbating as he re-watched my activities.

"I'm sorry," he said with embarrassment, "I just couldn't hold out anymore."

"You'd better have something left for me, or next time I may handcuff you to the chair and make you wait until I'm ready to have you fuck me."

It wasn't a problem. His cock was still hard, and I set a record that night for the number of climaxes I've had in a single evening, when he fucked me and licked my well-used promiscuous cunt, which had been penetrated by a grand total of four cocks.

"You know," I said after we'd exhausted ourselves, "I am going to tie you up next time, and I might just do something even wilder." The look on my face told him I wasn't joking, and I could see his cock beginning to get hard again at the thought.

There is no grand moral to my story. I can't say that my form of cheating would be right or wrong for other married couples looking to add a little spice to their marriage. The only advice I would give is to keep an open dialog going about the personal requirements of both partners. Jason and I could have spent years being unsatisfied and frustrated, if we hadn't talked about our needs.

~ The End ~