Late Night Confession

Editor's assistance please. This is my first effort and I would appreciate help.

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My wife, Julie, and I had been back in the States for a few months following three wonderful years of living in Germany where I had been stationed. That Friday evening we were enjoying the end of the week. My head was in her lap as we listened to music playing softly on the stereo. Life was good.

"Mark," she said, "There is something I have to tell you. Please don't hate me. I've been bad."

"What? What do you mean," I asked as I sat up.

"I had sex with someone else while we were still in Germany," she said.

"Who? Who was it," I demanded to know.

"I can't tell you...I don't think I can tell you," Julie replied.

"Glenn! It was Glenn wasn't it!" Glenn had been my best friend and we spent much of our free time together.

"No," she said quickly, "not Glenn. Please don't ask me to tell you."

"It must have been Neal then," I declared. Neal and his wife Carol lived in the third floor apartment upstairs. Carol was Julie's best friend."

"Hell no! Why would you think something like that," Julie asked. "Neal has no appeal at all. There's no way I'd ever have sex with him!"

"Then it must be David," I said accusingly.

Julie's face went ashen. I knew then that I had hit on the name of the guy who had fucked my wife.

"Yes," whispered Julie, "It was David. Please don't be mad at me."

"Why? When," I spluttered.

"We did it when you were gone to Italy," she said.

I thought about that, remembering that I had been sent to Italy several times. "So, you did it more than once?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Where did you do it," I wanted to know. "Did you do it in our bed?" As if that made any difference. I'm not sure why I asked her that.

"No. The first few times we did it on the sofa. Later on we went to the bedroom."

I suddenly realized that I was getting hard as Julie's story began to unfold. I imagined her lying on her back, legs spread wide as she welcomed David's hard cock into her pussy. I put my arms around her and held her close, wanting her, desiring her.

"But why," I wanted to know, "do you love him?"

"I don't know. I thought I did, but now I don't know."

"Do you want him again," I questioned, "would you do it again with him?"

"I don't know. I don't think I can answer that right now. David is so far away. I doubt that I will ever have the chance to see him again."

My mind went to an image of Julie that first time with David back in Germany. In my vision of them, I could see her pulling up her skirt around her waist and removing her panties as David stood over her unbuckling his belt. My cock was fully hard by then and I wanted to fuck her.

I began to stroke the inside of her thigh, working my way to the crotch of her panties. She was so wet! As I felt the softness of her nylon covered pussy, she began to tug at her skirt, just the way I had imagined her with David.

Julie ripped off her panties and lay back on the sofa, spreading her legs to receive me. I plunged my hard cock into her wet, slippery pussy. Damn, it felt so good.

After we had finished, I held her close for a long time. I was surprised that I had become so aroused by her confession. Pleased that she trusted me with such a heavy burden that she carried. I loved her even more then, at that moment, as I realized again how much we enjoyed sex, with each other and with others. Julie and I stayed together for almost another 25 years until she passed away suddenly many years ago. The memories of our time together and our sexual experiences are still with me.

Many of the men here on this site are critical of women like Julie, calling them all sorts of derogatory names. At the same time many men think of their husbands as spineless wimps. Others are like me-aroused by the thought of other men experiencing sex with a woman they love. What, I wonder, would the response of those men be if they experienced the same thing that I did with Julie?