There comes a time when every man has to reflect on what he has done, and come to terms with it. For me, that time is now, whether I want to or not. Nevertheless, it is hard for me to admit that I am the one that caused everything, although I am the one that made the first move. It was my idea and I guess that I should take responsibility for it. Yet, I never imagined, not in my wildest dreams that it would turn out the way it did.
Maybe, I should start at the beginning. I have always been interested in sex, but have only had two women before I met Connie. The moment I saw her, I know that she was the one for me. She was endowed with the most unbelievably sensuous body that I had ever seen, at least in my opinion. From the top of her sandy colored hair to the tips of her bright red toenails, she radiated sex. Although this was more than enough to entice me, I think it was her pleasing personality, and her compassion that clinched it.
We became an old fashion family, with me as the breadwinner, and Connie staying home. She was a great wife, keeping the house immaculate, and always had my dinner ready when I came home. At night, if I was not too tired, she would give herself to me, and we would have the most glorious sex that I had ever received. Yet, it was not the way that I had envisioned it.
While the sex was fantastic, it was always the same routine. The only time I could have her was at night, with the lights out, and under the bed covers. There was no spontaneity. Numerous times I had tried to get her in the mood, other than in the bedroom, but she would have nothing to do with it. I even tried to vary the position, to add a little spice to our sex.
This produced a slight change to our love making, but nothing like what I was hoping for. I did manage to get her on top, and ride me, however she would always complain that her legs hurt, and we would go back to the missionary position. When I started to eat her pussy she enjoyed it, but never wanted to reciprocate, not even when I asked. And, taking her butt was totally out of the question.
It was around this time that I had an opportunity to have an affair. Nora and I were coworkers, and I had foolishly confided to her my frustration with my sex life. I think that I was searching for a woman's point of view, and ideas on how to get Connie to perform the way I wanted her to. While she was sympathetic, she would not divulge any secrets that I could use. Instead, she offered to give me the sex that I had been craving. Without think about the consequences, I accepted her invitation.
We both called in sick, and met at a sleazy motel. There she gave me her body, allowing me to do all the things that I had been dreaming about. She gave me my first blowjob, and even drank my cum, which was something that I had not expected. Once I had recovered, I took her doggie style, forcing my entire cock into her pussy, enjoying the exhilarating experience of being totally inside a woman.
Nora must have been aroused by what I was doing, because she began uttering words that I had never heard a woman say before. I found them so stimulating that I wanted to cum right then, but I held back, allowing her to orgasm twice before I joined her on the third. Afterwards, we lay together, nestled in each other's arms, making small talk, to keep from falling asleep.
"How are you going to hide this from your husband?" I inquired, aware that she was married.
"There is no need to. He already knows."
"And, he doesn't mind?"
"Honey, we have an understanding. I give him what he wants and he lets me do what I want."
"I don't understand? What could he possibly want that would cause him to agree to this?"
Nora hesitated and then began to relate how her husband had pressured her to go swinging with him. She said that she had resisted the idea for a long time before she finally relented. The first wife-swapping party that they went to was quite a revelation, and they have continued ever since.
She paused again, for a long time, and then the words came rushing out. It seems that once they had become avid swingers, he decided to take it a step further. According to her, he began bring home men to fuck her, in between the sex parties.
While she could accept wife swapping, anonymous, indiscriminate sex was what she had agreed to. Yet, he was adamant about it, and kept bringing home strange men. Eventually, they would agree that she would let him continue, and that she would do whatever he wanted her to. In return, he had to allow her to do whatever she wanted, as long as she as long as she did not hide it.
After she finished telling me this, we remained silent for awhile. I was glad for the quiet because I was trying to digest all that she had said. While I was not thrilled by the idea of another man using my wife's body, it did have certain possibilities. My mind was telling me that this may be the way to get rid of her inhibitions. If she allowed another man to fuck her than she might be willing to let him do what he wants with her. The thought was definitely enticing.
I'm not sure where I got the energy to fuck her butt, but I did. Maybe it was the knowledge that she was just a sexual plaything for men. Then again, it might have been that this was something that I had been yearning for. Whatever it was, I received immense pleasure in reaming her ass and depositing my seed in her there.
We left shortly afterwards, each going our own way. On my way home to my wife, I thought again about what she had revealed. Could it even be possible for me to talk Connie into going wife-swapping? If she did acquiesce to my wishes, would it make a difference? These questions were still searching for an answer when I pulled into the driveway, later than usual.
When I entered the house I expected to be probed about my tardiness, but she never said a word. Instead she placed an over-cooked meal on the table, as if nothing had happened. I was already nervous and feeling guilty about having cheated on her, and this only made it worse. It made me feel as if there was no place small enough for me to crawl under.
Normally, I have a healthy appetite, but that night I could only pick at my food. A couple of times I caught her giving me a questioning look, but I tried to ignore this. In time, my shame got the better of me and I endeavored to give an excuse, but it came out lame. Nevertheless, she seemed to be satisfied with my explanation.
After dinner I usually go into the living room and watch TV, leaving her to clear the table and wash the dishes by herself. However, that night my guilty conscious forced me to help her. I even tried to hold her, which made me appear even more culpable.
Eventually we made it to the living room, where I made an effort to become engrossed in some television show. Periodically I would look over at her and wonder if she was aware of my transgression. Although she never gave any outward sign that she was, I felt certain that she somehow knew. I think I asked her twice if something was wrong, and got a quizzical look in response. Finally I tried to concentrate on what was in front of me, although I had no idea what I was watching.
It was impossible to pay attention to anything with my mind whirling about. I knew that somehow I had to make amends for my indiscretion, without admitting anything. After all, how could I tell my wife that I had just fucked another woman in every orifice that she had, and enjoyed doing it? She would never understand. Nevertheless, I felt that I needed to make some kind of atonement for my sin.
The thought of sex had given me an idea. So that night, while we were in bed together, I tried to give Connie the best fucking that I could. However, after coming three times in one day, I had nothing left inside of me, and even had difficulty getting it up. Naturally, this only aroused her suspicions even more.
"You've been acting strange all night. Have you been with someone else?" she eventually asked.
Now it was out. I could either confirm or deny, however if I disavowed any sexual conduct then how could I explain my impotency. Unfortunately, at that moment my brain decided to take a hiatus, leaving me with no alternative but to admit my guilt, and beg her forgiveness. Of course, this brought an abrupt end to our love making, with her ordering me to get off of her.
For three days I endured a cold silence that would have frozen an active volcano, not to mention the icy stares when she bothered to look at me. I bought her flowers and candy, and would apologize at every opportunity, but to no avail. Even when I tried to touch her I had my hand slapped away. It seemed, to me, that it would only be a matter of time before she demanded a divorce.
"Was she better than me?" Connie asked at the supper table on the fourth night.
"You don't want me to answer that, do you?" I responded, hoping that I could stop her from delving any deeper into my indiscretion.
"Yes I do! And don't bother lying to me, cause I know when you're lying."
Several times I opened my mouth to begin, but no words came out. When they did, I just stumbled all over them. Eventually my mind and mouth began to synchronize, and I started to speak coherently.
Connie listened as I commenced telling her everything. A few times I noticed that her hands clinched into a fist, but I kept on. I could tell that she was not taking it very well, especially when I mention what Nora and I had done. But, it was when I revealed the agreement that Nora and her husband had, that she really flew into a rage.
"Is that why you've been trying to get me to do those disgusting things?" she almost screamed. "You want me to have sex with other men."
"No, that is not the reason." I began, and then, like a fool, switched tactics. "Well, that was my original idea. But, let me explain before you say anything."
"Please do," she said, giving me a challenging look, as if to say that it had better be good.
For the next several minutes I attempted to clarify myself. I began by saying that I wanted to have oral and anal sex with her because I wanted it, not so her entire body would be more accessible to other men. What I wanted was to enjoy having sex with her in all its various forms. As I continued to describe my motives, it seemed that her anger began to slowly dissipate. When I finished, I believed that I had just about convinced her that my objective had good intentions.
"You mentioned something about another plan. So what is your plan now?"
I had been trapped by my own words. Although I had spoken them is haste, and without thinking, I now had to justify them. Yet, how could I tell her that I had contemplated the idea of giving her to other men, when I was still not completely comfortable with the idea. To make matters worse, she had just asked me if that was my intention, and I had spent several minutes trying to convince her that it was not.
"You're hesitating. That must mean that you do want other men to make love to me."
