I Might Not Even Sleep with Him...

Like many other couples, we'd been married for a long time and we'd grown familiar with each other. Claire, my wife was older than me and I was attracted by her confidence and power - she was a lawyer for a big firm and I worked in a manual job. I was fit and strong, she thin and smart. She was smart, quirky sense of humour, great legs. I was quiet, shy and had only had a couple of girlfriends before. Our engagement was short and we eloped to avoid a big family wedding. Initially sex was great, but she was never one to initiate once married and now, after almost twenty years of being together it had tailed off to almost nothing. Truth be told, I didn't have that much confidence in the bedroom, and she'd denied me sex quite a few times so to protect my own feelings I'd just stopped asking her. On one or two occasions we had, I sometimes had trouble maintaining an erection - and the last time being well over six months before I'd failed to climax entirely. She'd had an orgasm during foreplay and seemed okay about it, but I wasn't - and it wasn't her fault, only mine.

My parents had divorced in a very nasty way when I was young and I had vowed never to put anyone through that for myself. Great or bad, I would stick with this marriage - but it wasn't really so bad, we liked each other and some other married couples couldn't say the same. The urge for sex passes in time, although I did miss the intimacy that love making brings.

Despite my low confidence, I did have a high sex drive so masturbated pretty much daily, usually a quick rub in bed watching porn on the laptop, looking at my library of dirty pictures, and more commonly, reading erotic fiction. Then a wipe with an old sock and back to reality. Not an exciting sex life by any means. I had no idea what she did to get her rocks off, if anything - but whatever it was, she kept it very private.

We used to go out now and then early in our marriage, but I'm awkward in social situations and never know what to say. You could count the number of times I danced with her on the fingers of one hand, and in every case I'd been pretty drunk to do so! A shame, as she once loved to dance. I felt I'd stopped her enjoying herself, so when she did get invited out with a group of friends, I didn't stand in her way and always wished her a good evening when she went out for a meal. This happened once or twice a month with the same group of people and I'd stay at home.

Then one night, something changed. She told me earlier in the week she'd be out Thursday night. I didn't ask with who, assuming it was with one of her two groups of friends. We both came home from work and did a few chores, then she had a quick shower and went into the bedroom to get ready. I followed a few minutes later, to chat about our days while she prepared as we often do, and lay down on bed while she slipped out of her dressing gown and started to dress. Her body, even in her mid 40's was pretty good - she kept in shape through lots of physical exercise, and horse-rode regularly. I admired it without commenting, even when she pulled on the smallest of her knickers. Normally she wears big comfy ones that do little to flatter her, but I didn't think much of it, other than perhaps she needed to feel a little better about herself. She was working long hours and was often tired, but tonight seemed full of quick, lively energy. She wore a fairly normal bra, with just a little lace, with a long flowing dress in shimmering opal blue that stopped at her knee. She'd shaved her legs in the shower too, I noticed. She dabbed a little perfume on one wrist, then rubbing the two wrists together to spread it, bent down to me lying on the bed to kiss me goodbye as usual.

"Hope you have a nice evening" I said as she left the room.

"Thanks," she said, heading for the door. "But you never know, I might not even sleep with him".

Clunk. The front door shut behind her. I was frozen, not trusting my ears. Had she really said that? With who? Still unmoving, I heard her car start up and drive away. I lay there immobile for at least ten minutes, heart thumping in my chest, mind racing and full of questions. Was she serious? Why didn't I ask who she was going to dinner with, and where? Was she intending to come home at all? Was this her way of leaving me?

I glanced over at the dressing table, the smell of her perfume still in the room. Everything was in place. Quickly, I ran to her office desk and yes, her passport and bank books were still there. Somewhat relieved, for I truly loved my wife and didn't want to lose her, I returned to the bed to try and stop my head racing.

So now what? I didn't really know what to do. I just lay there, my head in a whirl. Imagining what she was doing and who with. I closed my eyes and lay back. Was she at dinner with someone? Had she found somebody to dance with again? Were they dancing slowly, him holding her tight? Carressing her through that thin blue dress?

My hands touched my dick, it was still half hard, and I started to squeeze it. Very quickly it was fully hard again, and just as I felt the first stirrings of an orgasm, I quickly pulled my hand away. No, that would not do at all. I knew that if I climaxed I'd stop finding this as sexy as I was.

I forced myself to get out of bed and do the nightly chores, feed myself and watch some tv - not taking in a single thing. I went to bed at 10 and lay await for her to return.

I must have dozed off, because when I woke she was already in bed next to me. Her back turned to me and fast asleep. She was wearing her usual night-shirt and there was nothing to show that tonight was any different. I checked the bedside clock - 2am. Wow, I'd slept too long. Should I wake her? No, she was always grumpy then. Should I try to feel her pussy to see if there was another man's cum leaking from it? Not a chance! She'd definitely wake up. I lay there, staring in the darkness at her back, not moving, hardly breathing. By now I was doubting that she'd said those words as she left.

I must have fallen asleep again, as I woke up hearing her come into the bedroom. She was bringing my usual cup of tea. Putting it down on my bedside table, she turned to leave the room when I said "Thanks" and sat up, just the same as always. She nodded and carried on walking, back out to the kitchen to make her own breakfast. Our morning routine is as predictable as everything else. A few minutes later, she came back into the bedroom and sat down on her side of the bed, one leg curled underneath her. She was still wearing the same night-shirt, and her legs were bare from mid-thigh down. Holding the bowl of cereal in one hand she started eating.

Ok, here goes. Neither of us likes confrontation, but still, I had to know.

"Good night last night?" I asked.

Claire nodded yes, her mouth full of cereal.

"Where did you go?"

She swallowed. Then, "Just down to the Pantry" and then shovelled another spoonful into her mouth. The Pantry was a nice Pub two villages over that did excellent food, as many country pubs do now. We'd eaten there once or twice ourselves, on the rare occasion we did go out together. It was nice. Respectable.

Now for the killer question; "Who was there?"

She was between mouthfuls and answered immediately. "Just some people from work, you don't know them."

"What did you say as you were leaving last night?" I asked.

"When?"

"After I said 'Have a good night'. Not sure I heard you right"

"Oh," she said. "I just said 'Thanks, I'll try.' ". And with that, her bowl was cleared and she waved, went through the door and was in her car driving to work.

I was certain I hadn't mis-heard her last night, but she clearly didn't want to discuss it. Oh well. Time to get ready for my own job. I got up and walked across the bedroom and spotted the laundry basket. On impulse, I lifted the lid and changed my life. Inside were her satin knickers. I picked them up and opened them out. There, lying in the cotton of the gusset, was a large glob of what was obviously semen. Still wet, surrounded by the dampness of my wife's own juices. I lifted it to my nose and took a sniff. I could only smell my wife's aroma, so tentatively, I slipped out my tongue and tasted it. No doubt now, that was definitely semen, I'd tasted enough of my own - I loved to give cunnilingus and on occasions when we'd gone more than once, I found I quite enjoyed licking my own seed from her well used vagina. Remembering that, I sucked the whole globby mess right out of the panties and into my mouth and warmed it on my tongue, breathing in the scent. Intoxicating.

Again, my dick was like steel. I was standing naked in our bedroom with my wife's used knickers in my hand and a mouthful of her lover's come in my mouth. It was so dirty, so humiliating, so wrong. What would I say if somebody saw me? How could I explain this?

I loved it.

Grabbing my dick I rubbed like a madman, holding the used garment over my mouth and nose as I swallowed. In just a few seconds I had a monstrous orgasm which left me so weak that my knees actually gave way and I sank down onto the carpet, leaning back against the bed.

I stayed there perhaps five minutes, perhaps fifteen, in a daze. Not thinking, not planning, just existing. Then as if waking out of a dream, I realised I was now going to be late for work, so hurriedly put the panties back and positioned them exactly as they had been so she wouldn't know. Then I quickly dressed and went to work.

That evening, life went on as normal. I gave her a big hug as she came home, but when I tried to go a little further and squeeze her bum, she wriggled away. Nothing seemed different. I cooked us a meal and we sat and ate it in front of the telly as usual. She stayed in that evening, and through the weekend she went off and rode horses, or worked around the house and garden. She was a little late back on Monday, but brought her laptop back - the repairers had let her know it was ready so she collected it after work. She went to bed early that night, and I could hear the keyboard rattling away. When I went to join her, she shut it up and turned over, ready to go to sleep. As she reached for her bedside light, she yawningly said "Late back tomorrow, love. Got an evening meeting at work."

That was unusual, I couldn't remember when that had last happened, but accepted it and kissed her good night. Turning off my own light, I slid my naked body up behind hers, which was clad in a sheer satin night dress, my erection gently pressing against her arse and reached around, but she deftly turned on her back - her sign of saying she didn't want to spoon tonight. Sleep was more important. Giving a small sigh I too turned on my back and lay awake for half an hour listening to her sleep. Her warm, still sexy body, close to mine but miles out of reach.

The next night she didn't return until about 9pm. I'd watched her leave that morning with nice hair, fresh lipstick and a smart blue business suit - professional yet still feminine. She came home with hair messed up, lipstick gone, suit crumpled and absolutely stinking of sex. Some meeting! I decided to act like I noticed nothing and gave her the usual hug and kissed her on the mouth, although she kept hers closed. Again, when I tried to lower my hands, she twisted out of my grip saying "Sorry love, I'm knackered. Quick shower then bed for me."

She undressed and walked nude to the bathroom. As she passed me, I could plainly see her pubic hair was wet and matted. The bathroom door shut and I heard the shower go on as I walked into the bedroom. Her pile of clothes on the floor hadn't even made it to the laundry basket. I reached down and sure enough, there were her knickers and again, a big white dollop of somebody else's sperm lying in the crotch. Again, I raised it to my mouth and licked it clean. Delicious. Hearing the shower shut off, I hurriedly put the clothing back as it was and went to the kitchen to make us a cup of tea while my erection subsided.

She was already in bed when I returned, tucked up and reading her book and her clothes had been tidied away. I put her tea on her table and slipped into my side of the bed, taking out my own book and pretending to read.

I was actually quite shocked at myself for behaving this way. My wife was clearly having an affair and seemingly not caring whether I found out or not. I have the utmost respect and love for my wife, and with some women that might encourage them to take advantage and walk all over me - but throughout our marriage she'd shown me respect and consideration too. We did love each other, of that I had no doubt, but the passion of the first few years had given way to a slow, steady and unexciting love. Maybe that's why she felt the need to explore another man. What was I going to do about it? Nothing, yet. Maybe tomorrow I'd ask her to explain herself, but I hated starting a fight and I knew I wouldn't really say anything. I'd carry on pretending to ignore the obvious.

And so it went for the next few weeks. Twice a week she'd disappear, sometimes letting me know, sometimes not. Every time when she came home there would be evidence of sex. Sometimes if she wore tights when she left, they'd be missing on her return. Twice, she returned without the underwear she left with (and unknowingly denied me my secret pleasure of licking the evidence away), and on another occasion returned with a large love bite next to one of her nipples. She undressed in front of me as usual and made no comment about it, but it was clearly a love bite and very obvious. It faded after a week, only to be replaced by another on her arse.

Another night, when she was undressed after one of her late meetings, I was shocked to see her pubic hair had disappeared! She was totally shaved there! My amazement was too obvious this time to be ignored, I must've looked comical standing there and I'm sure my mouth was hanging open. She actually laughed at my expression and said "Yes, it does look different, doesn't it?"

I shut my mouth and swallowed hard, and after a few false starts found my voice; "Yes! It looks lovely. Can I stroke it?", shocking myself again at my boldness.

She smiled and lay back on the bed, still with her blouse on, and spread her legs. "Yes, have a look"

I didn't need telling twice and I was on my knees in front of her, looking closely at her vulva in all its shaved glory. It was beautiful! So long hidden by an unruly thatch, this hidden gem was finally revealed to my gaze. I tentatively reached forwards and with the back of my fingers, stroked around it, up and over and down each thigh. She sighed softly at my touch and leaned back into the cushions, closing her eyes. Taking this as acceptance, I grew bolder, running my finger up her lips gently at first, then with more pressure. The tip of my finger slipped inside - god it was wet, she was warming up quickly! It normally took her longer to get going. Then I froze as I realised that I wasn't the first man there today, it was wet from her meeting still. With no pubic hair, the evidence wasn't stuck to her outside as usual. Quickly, I recovered, spotting my chance.

I lowered my head and very gently licked her there. She stiffened, releasing a little gasp. "Stop..." she said. I stopped and looked up. She was looking directly at me and softly said "No, go on...". Whilst we locked eye contact, I extended my tongue and slipped it right inside her. Instantly I could taste semen mixed with her own juices, the consistency on my tongue lumpier and saltier that should be found in my wife's cunt. Still staring at each other, sharing a deep and meaningful connection, I scooped out the mess with my tongue and held it there outstretched, so she could see it. Then I brought it into my mouth and swallowed. She watched it all, and it was then we both knew that she knew I was aware of her affair and without saying a word, was encouraging her unfaithfulness. She closed her eyes then, and put her head back against the pillows.

I stayed licking for another five minutes, cleaning out every crevice, even running my tongue down to her anus to ensure no drips were left. She didn't orgasm exactly, but was clearly enjoying both the act and the taboo. Her husband was licking her lover's spunk from her cunt! How dirty was that?

My tongue was getting sore, and my excitement growing. Standing up to remove my underpants which were tenting obviously from my excitement, she opened her eyes and quite gently said, "No, love. Just... No.". Again, that powerful sharing of an understanding flew between us. Clearly, this was how it was going to be. I wasn't allowed to use her like that.

And, you know? I was kind of pleased. Having sex with her now would be somehow wrong, especially now I'd done such a thorough job in cleaning her. I smiled and gently pulled the sheets up over her body while she lay, utterly relaxed and content. She was asleep even before I climbed into my side of the bed, sleeping the deep sleep of those without any guilt, while me and my erection lay alongside her, watching her breathe, my heart and mind racing together.

Very soon, she was with her lover twice a week in the evenings, and sometimes for the whole afternoon and evening on the saturdays, all while I stayed at home. The days were regular and she stopped letting me know she was going to be late home, it now being a part of our routine. I still didn't know this man's name or anything about him. She hadn't said anything about him or the affair since that very first night. Sometimes she'd come home and hop straight in the shower, sometimes she would slide into bed without washing - and on those occasions she smelled of sex. She wouldn't let me clean her out every time, perhaps once every couple of weeks and she began to orgasm while I sucked her lover's seed from deep within her hairless vagina, slurping noisily and showing my enjoyment. Once she'd watch me swallow the first load, I would sometimes bring a mouthful of her juices and traces of his semen up to hers and kiss her. She'd allow her mouth to open and the liquid mess slide into hers. She'd then withdraw from the kiss and roll the juices around in her mouth before opening her throat and swallowing it all down in one. I'd then kiss her again, our tongues seeking out traces from each others' mouths. When she tired, I'd slide back to my side of the bed and watch her fall asleep. I wouldn't even masturbate that night, for fear of waking her. I started work a little later than her so would rub myself to spurting release when she left, sometimes stealing her panties from the basket to smell and lick.

Sometimes while she was out, I would imagine them together - putting various names and faces into the fantasy. Did he even know she was married? At what point did she tell him, and what questions did he ask? I imagined her telling him of her fool of a husband who would be licking out her cunt whilst he ploughed his massive tool in and out, again and again. I imagined them giggling about me and I wondered what he thought of all this. What kind of a man did he think I was, to let his wife sleep with another? Was he the reason my wife was now refusing me sex entirely? I'd asked more times in the past few weeks than for several years before, but each time she just smiled and shook her head. Had he told her that only he was allowed to fuck her now? Did he own my wife? Worst of all was the question, "Was she in love with him?". I thought possibly yes, but only if she could love two people as I knew she loved me deeply. Perhaps there are two kinds of love for a partner? Perhaps I had never been enough man for her even and she'd always wanted more throughout our marriage.

Also, was he married? If so, what did his wife think - she must surely know, they were now spending so much time together. What did she look like, what were her hangups, did we have anything in common? Did they have kids?