I thought it was at John's dinner party when the first seeds of the transformation of our marriage were sown. I was wrong. One of the guests, William, had turned the topic of conversation to his own area of expertise—evolutionary psychology—and had the avid attention of the table. To be fair, he didn't bring it up, he was merely countering the opinion of John's wife, Rosemary that it was predominantly men who were prone to cheating on their spouses. He rattled through the evidence from science that supposedly revealed the promiscuous nature of the female of the species, from attack sperm to the size of men's testicles and the potency of a man's semen when he'd been separated from his partner for any length of time. To be honest, I found William to be a bit of a bore, with his Hugh Grant foppishness, the relish he seemed to display talking about his pet topic and the way he peered over his spectacles to reveal a particularly salacious piece of information to my wife. I would have thought the women at the table would find all this offensive, but quite the contrary, his audience were hanging on his every word.
"Of course, the most intriguing thing about all this—indeed the topic of my thesis—is the manifested counter measures of the male." William prattled on, "Violent sexual jealousy is an obvious one, but there are other reactions."
At this point in the conversation my wife Bridgette's hand had strayed onto my thigh, gently caressing me through the fabric. I turned to look at her. Clearly interested in the conversation, her other hand toyed with her necklace. She was blushing.
"What do you mean by 'more subtle'?" Bridgette asked. She was slurring a tiny bit, and her gentle caressing of my cock had escalated to a firm squeezing.
"Well it is quite common for men to become extremely sexually aroused by the idea and evidence of their partner's sexual impropriety."
"What a load of bullshit." I was growing a little impatient at this point with what I saw at the time to be academic nonsense, "Where is the evidence?"
"Oh, there is a huge amount of evidence. I'm collecting interviews from wife swapping couples and the people involved in the cuckold fetish scene, for a start." He wasn't rattled, indeed he smiled directly at my wife and winked, "I'm looking at an epigenetic angle, I think it's possible that men may have a genetic switch that may get flicked on when they are exposed to this situation. Some will react violently, others seem to become addicted to the intense sexual feelings the situation provokes and find a new subordinate relationship to their wives. It's amazing the amount of straight men who eventually end up with a fetish for finding other men's semen in their wife's vagina." He made eye contact with me at this point, then brazenly returned his gaze to my wife's cleavage. "What was that you said, the err, cuckold scene? What is that?" She squeezed my now very hard cock under the table.
"Ah, well, it's an active sexual fetish, if you look online you can find all sorts of material relating to it, speciality pornography, stories, forums, dating sites that cater to men who have a sexual fetish for having their wives or girlfriends take on lovers."
My wife laughed and said "How peculiar!", the conversation was interrupted as dessert was served and my penis ignored for the rest of the evening. She seemed more interested in talking to William and drinking wine. By the time we left she was a little drunk. This was unusual for my Bridgette.
Later, as we undressed for bed my wife remarked on the conversation. Looking back, this was probably my one and only opportunity to put end to these ideas of infidelity and cuckolding, if only I knew then what I know now.
"Well, that William fellow was rather interesting, don't you think?" My wife asked as I unzipped her dress.
"No, I thought he was a little too clever for his own good. HE seemed to think that he was very interesting, though."
"Oh, I thought he was a bit dishy too, he looks a little bit like Johnny Depp, don't you you think?" A drunken tease? I grunted a reply, she was right and I didn't want to admit it. He was handsome in a pretty boy way. Seemed much younger than he actually was, he was slim with a full head of hair. Prick.
"Jealous? Undo my bra, darling," She was grinning, we made eye contact in the mirror and as I fumbled with the bra clasp she reached behind and grabbed the front of my trousers. "All that talk of sex has put me in the mood darling."
"You're drunk."
Now, as painful as it is to admit it, I guess I'm going to say that I'm a little slow. I still hadn't put two and two together at this point. If I'd actually been paying attention to my wife I would have realised that she just admitted to my face that she was sexually aroused by flirting with another man. Clearly, I was distracted by her hands in my fly. Quite an easy thing to happen now that the fires of our marriage had reached a burning ember phase. We made love maybe once a fortnight at most. Some months not at all. Lately it had been a bit of a dead zone, and I was almost overjoyed to be getting some.
I tried to pull my wife down onto the bed, I was honestly surprised when she easy evaded my attempt and pushed me backwards.
"Wait a minute, buster. SIT!" my wife was standing over me, dressed only in the lower half of the black lingerie I bought for her last birthday, an obscenely small g-string with matching garter belt. It was now that I noticed that she looked a little different, but I wasn't sure how. she was standing with her hands on her hips and she glanced down. My eyes followed the curves of her body, past her stocking clad legs, all the way down to her black stiletto shoes.
"We need to have a little chat first."
