He Longed to Share His Wife

Why do some men get so turned on by the idea of their wives being fucked by other men? Part of my reason for writing this story was to explore what motivates such men and to imagine how their fantasies might turn out if brought into real life. I have tried to weave that analysis into the fabric of the story so that it doesn't detract but if all you're here to read is descriptions of graphic sex, you might wish to pick another story to read.

The story so far: taking a late summer holiday, I'd found accommodation with Linda and Alan Wilson. I soon discovered that Alan had a fantasy about seeing his wife being fucked by another man, something Linda had been reluctant to do except with a man of her choosing. The reason she told me this was, of course, because she felt that I was someone she would finally be willing to do it with. At her insistence, we spent a night together, alone, to get to know each other and then, the next evening, I took her in front of Alan. I'm not sure it was quite what he'd expected...

*****

Not surprisingly, breakfast the following morning was a subdued affair. Linda tried not to pay me too much attention lest it made Alan feel even more difficult than he already did. As for Alan himself, he clearly had no idea how to react. Just looking at him, I could see a mixture of emotions running through him. Regret, delight, bitterness, jealousy, excitement; it was all there on his face. He was like a little boy who'd been given a dozen bars of chocolate which he'd eaten all at once and now felt very sick.

He had obviously been incredibly aroused by the sight and sounds of what had taken place right in front of his eyes – another man very visibly penetrating his wife's vagina and cumming inside it. In that sense, it had been exactly what he'd thought he wanted but I think he was unprepared for the sight of the two of us enjoying it so much. The realities were coming home to roost and there seemed to be resentment and jealousy in his mood. I had no idea, of course, what had happened after Linda had followed him up to bed. I didn't even know if they'd fucked – I hadn't heard anything, but that didn't mean a lot – and if they'd talked I had no idea what they'd discussed.

I took a firm line and held my head up high. I wasn't going to be made to feel bad simply because I had provided the spectacle that Alan had wanted for so long. I got the impression that I had assumed the role of devil incarnate in his eyes and I wasn't having that. If he'd got himself so wrapped up in his fantasy that his judgement had become overwhelmed, that was his fault as far as I was concerned and I had no intention of taking the blame for it. At the same time, I hardly wanted to crush the guy because he'd let his fantasy get out of hand.

Leaving that aside, though, I had to decide what I was going to do. It might be awkward if I stayed for my full, planned week but I certainly wasn't going to leave and have him thinking I was slinking away with my tail between my legs. They would have to ask me to go. There again, I was worried about Alan and Linda's future. My distinct impression was that Alan was likely to try to blame Linda as much as me for what had happened and that would have been way beyond unfair. I very much doubted that she would stand for that and it would have put their marriage under extreme strain.

I could also imagine the possibility of Linda being pushed so far that she might turn round and tell him: 'Look you pathetic little wimp, I only did what you've wanted for ages. Now live with the consequences and don't take it out on me.' That wouldn't have been her natural reaction but I could see him leaving her with no other way out and I couldn't be sure how it would work out.

And looming over all of this, of course, was the fact that I wanted to fuck Linda again.

I decided to be firm and take charge of the situation. They could always tell me to get lost if they didn't like it.

'Right, I'm going out shortly and I intend to have a lovely day. While I'm out I suggest that you two play it as calmly as possible. I'll get a meal out this evening and when I get back we're all going to sit down and discuss the situation rationally and work out the way forward. Right?'

Alan nodded his head without looking me in the face.

'Right', he muttered, a little sullenly.

Linda looked sheepish but, at the same time, grateful for my intervention. 'Thank you', she murmured.

*****

I ate that evening at the Plough. It was a lot more convivial than sitting frostily around a dining table with Alan and Linda with the prospect of our talk hanging over us.

'Getting on alright at the Wilson's?' the landlord asked as he poured my pint of bitter.

'Yes, it's very nice', I replied, hardly revealing very much.

'Linda's really lovely, but I just can't get on with Alan. He's a bit of a funny bugger.'

My ears pricked up. I wanted him to go on but I hardly wanted it to look as if I was desperate to hear more.

'Yes', I said in as much of a thoughtful tone as I could muster. I picked my words carefully, saying absolutely nothing but encouraging the conversation. 'I think I know what you mean. There's something but I can't quite put my finger on it.'

'They don't get in here too often but sometimes they come in with a bunch of their friends.'

He leaned over the bar in a conspiratorial fashion and lowered his voice – I don't know why because we were the only two in the bar – but he must have thought that it added a sense of drama.

'He always seems to be trying to get Linda to flirt with his friends and them to flirt with her. As if he's desperate to prove how popular she is but he's the one who's got her. Must make him feel good but she doesn't seem too keen on it.'

'Some men seem to need to do that, don't they', I remarked casually.

'Well, he certainly does. New Year's Eve before last we had a bit of a party in here – a lot of drink was taken, as they say. He was pushing her to dance with other men and turning a blind eye when hands started wandering if you know what I mean. And, if you ask me, it wasn't just a matter of turning a blind eye. I could almost have sworn that he enjoyed watching them trying to feel her up. Some of the regulars in here...'

He seemed to want to distance himself from their views, so maybe something interesting was coming up.

'...wonder if he's into sharing her out. If you play your cards right...'

He tapped a finger to his nose.

'Really?' I didn't have to try hard to raise my eyebrows.

'Really', he confirmed. 'A few weeks back, one of the guests said he'd pulled a muscle in his back. Alan kept suggesting that Linda give him a massage – said she was really good at it – but she wasn't keen on the idea. Maybe if you was to say that you're a bit stiff...'

He chuckled at his own smutty double entendre.

'Mind you, I've often got the impression that he might be a bit of a bully. Charming when he gets his own way but I'd steer clear of him when he doesn't.'

At that point, the front door opened and two holidaymaking couples came into the pub. The women sat at a table close by while the men came up to the bar to order drinks and food. That put an end to my chat with the landlord but while I waited for my food I thought about what he'd said and the discussion that was to take place a short while later.

*****

As I sat eating my meal, my mind ran through the dozens of reasons why a man might want to watch his wife being taken by another man – being made a cuckold. I'd heard tales, of course, and I'd even read a few stories that featured this kind of thing. Without a doubt, there were some men who found the idea sexually arousing – extremely arousing in some cases, it seemed, whether they wanted to watch or were content just to hear the details later.

I couldn't help wondering just how much of this was simply fantasy and how much was reality. I suspected that the vast majority of these tales – even where they purported to be true – were actually pure fantasy but in a few cases – such as Alan and Linda's – fantasy had moved over into real life. And that was when problems could arise – problems that could be so conveniently ignored in a fantasy.

To be honest, I really don't understand what it is that appeals so much. I couldn't imagine being in that situation. When my first wife and I first drifted apart, we spent long periods living separately. It turned out that she had a couple of affairs during that time but all that did was to convince me that the marriage was finished. It certainly didn't arouse me and I definitely had no interest in hearing the details.

Was Alan a voyeur? Maybe, but why would he complicate things by involving his wife when there were surely other places voyeurs could go to watch people having sex.

Was he a masochist, wanting to see Linda taken by a man who performed better than him – a sort of self-flagellation without the physical pain? Did he want to be belittled or humiliated? If that was the case, I was the wrong person for that and I was almost certain that Linda was too.

I could understand that if a couple's libidos were dramatically out of step, they might decide that the more active partner should take other lovers. I could even understand both partners deciding that they wanted greater variety in their sex lives but neither of those things seemed to apply in this case.

I simply couldn't understand Alan's position but I had to do so because it was the key to the future. The whole thing would break down if he wasn't actually getting what he needed out of it.

I decided to work out a plan of action to prevent the discussion later that evening from turning into a rambling shambles heading nowhere. To fix my thoughts, I took a piece of paper and a pen out of my pocket and started to write.

Point one: let's be selfish – what do I want out of it?

It really wasn't worth me getting too deeply involved in a messy situation if I wasn't going to get something out of it.

Did I want to go on fucking Linda? Oh yes, without a doubt! She was very, very good, she had an amazing body, and I'd really enjoyed fucking her, especially the first time when we were on our own. Doing it in front of Alan wasn't half as much fun, though.

In that case, did I want a future for Linda and me, without Alan? It was very tempting to think so but, no matter how well we got on, a couple of enjoyable fucks is no basis for a long-term relationship. I'd made that mistake before and I wasn't about to repeat it.

I wrote it down.

Conclusion number one: I want to go on fucking Linda but not always in front of Alan. Can we get him to agree to that?

Point two: what does Linda want out of it?

Except for the fact that she really seemed to enjoy our fucking, I really didn't have a clue but presumably, she wanted Alan to be happy.

Even so, it was far from clear what she really thought about his fantasy. I could imagine that some women would welcome the freedom to sleep with other men but many wouldn't – a lot would question whether they liked their husbands thinking of them as sluts.

Why hadn't Linda refused point blank as many wives might have done? Had she refused at the start but when he persisted, she'd brought in the 'I get to pick the man' condition as a delaying tactic? Or maybe she'd seen it as offering her a rain check to be saved away until the seven-year itch struck? 'Hey darling, I've met someone I want to have sex with – and you did say you wanted me to fuck another man.'

There was certainly something between us and I wondered if we might have ended up in bed together even in the absence of Alan's fantasy. Was pandering to Alan's fantasy the price she had to pay to have an affair? Or maybe, if a man continually pesters his wife to have sex with someone else, she'll eventually decide that if that's what he wants, why is she bothering to stay faithful? She might as well have some fun. But what if an affair led on to something more?

Conclusion number two: For Linda, this isn't about pandering to Alan's wishes. It's most likely become an opportunity to have sex outside her marriage without the guilt. And she seems to like having sex with me.

Point three: what does Alan want out of it?

Now here was the most important question. Forget any deep pseudo-psychological analysis – what I really needed during the discussion was for Alan to open up about his motives for wanting Linda to have sex with another man. Put very simply and selfishly, if Linda and I were both to continue to get what

we

wanted out of this situation, Alan had to get something too, so I had to know what that was.

I'd already thought through a few possibilities but there seemed to be countless others. There was even a theory that if a man's wife was fucked by someone else, he would be driven to fuck her in a frenzy to drive out the competing sperm, turning a normally meek and mild husband into a raging sexual athlete. Well, it's a theory, I suppose.

Turning to more sensible ideas, was Alan insecure? Did it boost his ego if other men were interested in his wife? From what the pub landlord had said, that seemed a strong possibility. However, it could only add to Alan's insecurities if he thought that something more than just sex might be developing between Linda and me.

Of course, some men share their wives because they're misogynists or in order to dominate them – they see their wives as mere chattels to do with as they will for their own pleasure. I know the pub landlord had suggested that Alan was a bit unpleasant but I didn't think it went that far in his case, nor was Linda the submissive type who would let him get away with it. On the other hand, his behaviour did display an element of needing to be in control. Linda had told me that he'd resented being the number two in the business he ran with his partner and maybe he was trying to reassert himself.

At the pub's New Year's Eve party – and no doubt in his fantasy – Alan must have seen himself as the master of the situation but now, in order to realise his fantasy, his control had slipped. He'd been forced to allow Linda to choose her partner and he'd even had to accept her stipulation that the first sex was to be in private. Then, when it did finally happen in front of him, I had taken control of the situation. I hadn't even allowed him to 'give' her to me by undressing her and I'd told him that he had no say as to how it happened.

And his loss of control threatened to become total if Linda and I developed an emotional relationship.

Conclusion number three: we had to find out why Alan wanted this and what he needed to get out of it. Only then could we decide if his needs fitted in with ours.

So that had to be the focus of the discussion – pin Alan down. And I had to take charge of the discussion.

*****

When I got back to the house, Linda and Alan were already in the lounge. Alan had taken his usual armchair at the far end of the room, which he may have thought gave him the commanding position in the room – at the head of the table, as it were. Linda was on the sofa that ran lengthways down the room. I took the other armchair, facing Alan.

He didn't realise it at first but that put me on a par with Alan, of course. Who was in the commanding position depended on which way you looked at the room. (Try turning a map of the USA or Europe upside down and see how different things look.)

Alan sat back in his chair, confident in his position, watching to see what I would do and waiting for me to settle. That was a mistake. I took my piece of paper from my pocket, leaned forward, and put it on the coffee table in front of me. The effect on Alan was shattering. His attention shifted to that piece of paper and he couldn't take his eyes off it. He desperately needed to know what was written on it. It was as if he was on trial in a court and on the paper was written the jury's verdict. He was rendered speechless. In that moment, his map of the room had turned upside down.

'Right', I said, in a firm but not belligerent tone. 'In this fantasy of yours, Alan, you have only really thought about one person, yourself, and what you want out of it. But there are three people involved here, and all three of us need to be considered.'

I pointed to the piece of paper. He continued to stare rigidly at it as if willing the words to leap off it and pass before his eyes.

'I have looked at what I want out of this situation. I have looked at what I think Linda wants out of this situation. What we don't really know is what you want out of it and why, and that's what we need to concentrate on now.'

The person who sets the agenda runs the meeting. It was something I'd been taught years before.

'So, Alan, let's start by you telling us why you want this and what you hope to get out of it.'

That threw him completely. He'd obviously expected me to begin by telling him what Linda and I wanted, which would have allowed him to don the cloak of a martyr and complain that our demands were unreasonable while giving him time to think his own position through. Instead, I was forcing him to become the one who was making the unreasonable demands.

'I don't know why I want this', he said, his head hanging down. 'I've had this fantasy for years – of another man having sex with Linda. In my fantasy it doesn't matter how good he is, Linda always comes back to me – we've got a good life together, and that's what matters.'

I sensed that Linda was about to interrupt him but I raised a hand to stop her.

'You might think you've got a really good marriage but if it's never come under pressure – from another man – you've got no idea how strong it really is. So, what do you do? Wait until that other man comes along and they have an affair and she runs off with him? Or do you encourage your wife to have sex with other men, hoping that she'll be grateful and will discover that when she can have all the sex she wants, sex isn't everything.'

Paraphrasing his words in my mind, he did feel insecure about himself and his marriage and he was worried that one day, Linda might go off with someone else.

'That makes sense', I said, looking at him intently, though with his face turned down he couldn't see that. 'But it doesn't explain why it turns you on so much to think about it and, even more, to watch it.'

'I really don't know', Alan said in an increasingly subdued voice. 'In part, it's that if I'm allowing her to have sex with other men, it can't be something that's hidden away. Otherwise, it could turn into an affair anyway and we're back to square one. If it's happening in front of me, it will always just be sex and nothing more.'

Alan paused for a moment as if he'd realised that he'd only answered part of my question and was struggling to deal with the rest.

'I suppose it built up from that. It started with the idea that the sex would have to take place with me there and moved on to the idea that I might actually enjoy watching it. Surely it's arousing to watch someone having sex? Why do millions of men watch internet porn every day? Being there in the room when it happens is even more arousing.'

'But—'

Linda went to interrupt him but he cut her off. He was into the flow of it now and it seemed as well to get him continue.

'Years ago, before I married Linda, a bunch of us lads went camping and a couple of them had their girlfriends with them. We shared one big tent and it turned out that the girls were raving exhibitionists. They had sex with their boyfriends while the rest of us watched and then one of them let the lad next to me fuck her too. She hardly knew him – or he her – so it was just raw, lustful sex. She needed another cock in her and he was more than willing to provide it. It happened right in front of my eyes and I could see every detail of it. It's the only time – until last night – that I've ever watched other people having real-life sex and the sight of it stayed in my mind ever after. I realised afterwards that I'd probably enjoyed watching them even more than I would have done if she'd offered herself to me.'