There are some things that you want but don't get, and then there are things that you want but don't get, but get something better instead.
Rebecca, my beautiful, sexy, alluring wife is someone that I would never cheat on. Ever. Never ever. I have always had a fantasy of watching her make love to another woman. Just watching, not touching, not trying to participate or urge myself into the middle, I just wanted to watch, or so I thought.
Rebecca is a petite, well, let's say "trim" after nine years of marriage and having our three dependants. She is about five seven, One twenty-something pounds, you know, desirably trim. She is sexy as anything and anyone compared next to her. Dark hair, beautiful deep dark eyes, sexy freckles, and she knows how to please me in almost every way.
I go out of my way to do anything that she asks me to do, or would probably ask me to do because I love her and care very much for her. I hope that she does the same for me. We have an awesome marriage, and there is nothing that I would do to make her unhappy. With that being said, I just want to express how this fantasy came about.
She had a prior experience when she was younger with another, at that time they were girls, and she seemed to enjoy retelling it to me. She only told me it one time, and I haven't asked about it ever since because the memory of it was ever so strongly impressed upon me that I have never forgotten it, and I have never given up hope that something like it will happen again.
She has had other "friends" that I couldn't prove that she was doing anything with, I just had feelings that she was. She had a thing for a certain actress at one time, and there are a couple of other things that I have found her reading on Literotica which makes me wonder even more. Starting at the start is a good place. I have a sort of feeling that she is attracted to physically superior females, the sporty types, or that have that "look" to them. She seems attracted to, (in my opinion) a stronger physic, a wider rounder face, and possibly, but not a must, shorter hair. I, myself, am not, but if she is, then I can change my opinion.
We moved to where this one friend of hers is living, this past experience, Alyssa. Alyssa is desirably athletic, even to me. She had high cheek bones, dark hair and eyes, like my wife, only a little shorter cut, and a body not like a weightlifter but more of an avid soccer or tennis player, (she enjoyed both, but liked soccer more).
I also knew that there were still flames, however small or large, because when they first met after such a long time, both sort of flushed, though very briefly, before hugging and "catching-up" time".
I had work and Rebecca was busy keeping the house together after we settled in. Her old friend hung out every week, though she had work of her own to do. They talked about EVERYTHING, old times, good times, and military life, but kept a careful ground not to bring up anything "intimate", whether current or past. They were just two old friends that did stuff at one time.
I always hoped that this reunion would bring about things, but that didn't seem to be happening. I called at different odd hours of the day and she would answer right away, I made up appointments just to come home, hoping to catch her doing something, but never did. We just kept living our lives as normal as we could.
There was a guy she told me about that kept trying to flirt with her and talk to her while she was out on her daily walks. She told me that he wasn't anything to worry about, but I warned her not to talk to him because he was just waiting for me to leave for somewhere so he could try to get with her. She made up some things, sort of in his defense, about having commonalities like home states and rival schools; but she promised me that she would cold-shoulder him, and that is the last I heard about him from her.
She is always the organizer, the appointment maker, the writer down of things. Her calendar was kept fuller than my one at work, which was saying quite a lot. She had doctor appointments, work appointments, school happenings, birthdays, holiday weekends, and much more. Every week was jam packed with notes and jots.
I never suspected anything until one night she told me that she had something that she had to tell me, something that I might get upset over. We were in bed and she rolled on over to look at me as I lay on my back, waiting for the worst, hoping for the best, but expecting a curve ball.
She started to cry and she told me that she had been cheating on me. I just bit my lip and looked at her out of the corner of my eye, waiting for her to go on. She told me that she was sorry and that it just sort of happened so fast that she didn't know what was happening.
A flash of that guy from her walks went through my mind, and what they might have done together, possibly in the bed I was laying in now. That thought made me jump out of bed and ask "who is he?!?" in an accusatory tone, though not quite loud enough for anyone outside to hear me through our open windows.
She told me that "she" was Alyssa, her friend. I cannot tell you how relieved and turned on I was to hear her say that. I had to fight myself not to get hard then and there. So, instead, I asked her how it happened.
She told me that she went over to Alyssa's house one day when I was at work and they talked for a little while on the couch, with their shoes off, (since it was summer time), and both of their feet were on the coffee table. Their feet accidently brushed against each other, but instead of moving them away and apologizing, they kept them there, not saying anything.
She said that she flinched a little, as if she were hit with cold water, but also got all warm inside as they just sat there, looking into each other's eyes. She told me that they just sat there a while; rubbing their feet and legs together, (she was said that she was thankful that she shaved that morning).
She said that she noticed that that they both were breathing a little bit harder and then they both leaned in and kissed.
