Living with Lust

Three months had gone by since my wife of fifteen years came home from a five day conference and confessed she'd had some wild sex with a fellow delegate. She hadn't volunteered the information – I'd sensed she was holding something back and teased it out of her.

To her surprise, I was okay with it. As I told her at the time, she is an attractive and sexy woman and most men would jump at the chance to fuck her. As such, I was grateful that it had taken her fifteen years to stray – and that she still came back and still loved me.

To my surprise, I became extremely aroused at the thought of her enjoying the attentions of another man – and we had one of our best sex sessions ever, almost before she'd finished telling me about it.

Somewhere in the middle of that session we realised we'd crossed a threshold by admitting – and accepting – this development in our relationship. The slow decline of our sex lives had gone pretty much unnoticed by both of us until this point and we felt we had had something of a wake-up call in that we had to do something about our situation or accept that it might well be time for us to call it a day and go our separate ways.

Fortunately, just as I was turned on by her recounting of her night with Jeff, Maggie admitted she thought it would be exciting to hear the details of me having sex with someone else, too – and then added as an after thought that she thought she would enjoy watching me even more. At that point I realised that I would love to watch her, although I admitted that I might not be able to resist joining in.

She had laughed and said she would love to have a threesome with me and another guy. That led us to thinking it might be fun to join a swingers' club or, at the least, hook up with another couple.

That was as far as it had gone though, because neither of us quite sure how to take things further without risking our reputations and possibly our jobs and so she continued to lead an outwardly blameless life as the head teacher of a small primary school while I continued to manage my little department in the local county council.

There were a couple of differences in our private lives however. Maggie, as a result of her new found confidence with her looks and body, became much less inhibited at home and usually changed out of her respectable teaching clothes and into something far raunchier the moment she got home and had taken a shower. I, in turn, appreciated anew just what a sexy woman I had married and our sex life took a definite upswing.

The contrast between the gentle and conservative head teacher and the demanding, well-nigh insatiable strumpet she turned into once safely inside our house was remarkable. I started to look forward with eager anticipation to discovering what she had chosen to wear – or not wear – and became used to finding my thirty-seven year old wife preparing dinner wearing only one of my old shirts, or maybe just a short skirt – not top – under which she would be naked.

Her cunt seemed permanently wet these days – certainly it was every time I touched, fondled, licked or fucked it – and when I asked if she would consider shaving it for me, she agreed with a sexy giggle. We were both delighted with the effect. Me, because I loved the way it looked and felt; she because she enjoyed the extra attention I paid it as a result. Within a week of shaving she announced her intention to keep it that way – providing I shaved too. As a result we had endless pleasure – usually followed by some fairly hot sex – shaving each other at least three times a week, Maggie giggling that we looked like a couple of aging porn stars.

It was safe to say that from having sex twice a week at most, we were now having it almost everyday and often, at weekends in particular, two or three times a day.

This particular Friday evening I stayed late at work to finish a report and arrived home to find Maggie wearing a white, snugly fitting vest (no bra) and a matching white thong.

'Go shower and change,' she said urgently, once she had removed her tongue from my mouth and her hand from down the front of my trousers. 'I'll have a drink waiting for you when you come down.'

'Can't we play, first?' I pleaded, my dick straining for more attention.

'It's Friday. We can – and will – play all weekend. Go shower.' She gave me a wicked smile. 'I promise I'll do whatever you want tonight.'

'Anything?' I asked eagerly, thinking of the one or two things I wanted to try.

'Anything. Providing you let me do some stuff, too.'

'It's a deal,' I chortled excitedly.

I slipped on a pair of chinos after my shower, without bothering with underwear – after all it was a Friday and Maggie was looking edible – shrugged on a casual shirt and padded downstairs in bare feet. Sure enough, there was a glass of chilled white wine next to my end of the sofa. She was sitting on her side, sipping her wine impatiently.

'Look at this,' she said, passing me one of her women's magazines, opened at a page of advertisements as soon as I sat down.

I took the magazine and tried to find just what I was supposed to be looking at.

'The advert I've ringed,' she said helpfully.

'Oh. Right.'

'Read it out loud.'

'"Want to let your hair down in beautiful, secluded and tranquil surroundings? Fancy sharing your holiday – and maybe yourselves - with a few other, like-minded couples? Then why not take a room in this painstakingly refurbished Tuscan farmhouse set in magnificent rolling country side three miles from the nearest village? Allow Mick and Gina to be your hosts while you relax around the pool, in the comfortable lounge or one of the superbly comfortable and spacious bedrooms. "The four bedrooms allow for eight guests to mix and mingle to their hearts' content while Mick and Julie cater to your every need. Privacy and discretion guaranteed."'

'Well,' she asked me excitedly. 'What do you think?'

'It sounds wonderful,' I said slowly, quickly reading the advert again to make sure I understood its meaning.

'It sounds perfect,' she corrected impatiently. 'A secluded old farmhouse with three other couples . . . sharing ourselves . . . mixing and mingling . . .? We could try all the things we've talked about with no risk of anyone round here finding out.'

'You think this is an advert for a swingers' holiday?'

'Don't you?'

'Yes I do,' I answered slowly, reading it again just to be sure.

'So? Should we go?'

I looked at her flushed and animated face. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement and, I couldn't help but notice, her nipples were clearly visible through the T-shirt as well as a growing damp patch on the front of her thong.

I smiled and moved closer to her, running my hand slowly up her thigh and then down again, not quite reaching her plump little mound. She sighed and arched her back, lifting her hips and drawing my attention more firmly to the thin white material that was stretched over her cunt.

'Don't stop,' she said softly.

'Don't stop, what?'

'Stroking my thigh. And you can stroke more than my thigh, if you want.'

'Like what?' I asked.

We had only started with verbal foreplay since her admission of her infidelity. It was just one more example of our expanded sex life. Maggie had discovered she liked using language that, in any other circumstances, she wouldn't dream of using.

'Just think what my children would say if they heard me using words like cunt and fuck,' she had giggled. 'I'm sure they don't believe I've even heard such words, let alone use them.'

'It's an even better job they can't see you, then,' I had replied, looking down to watch my dick sliding slowly in and out of her ass.

That was another thing about our sex lives. We had first tried anal sex within the first couple of years of our marriage and Maggie hadn't been particularly impressed. As a result, she would allow me the privilege only on special occasions – my birthday, or New Year's Eve, for example. However, since, 'That Night,' as we now referred to her session with Jeff, she not only let me do it at least once a week, but it was often at her suggestion – not that I ever complained!

'You know,' she'd giggled one time, after I'd pumped yet another load of semen into her ass, 'sometimes when I'm in the staff room at morning break and we're talking about what we did over the weekend, I have this mad urge to announce that I had your dick up my ass at least three times – just to see what their reaction would be.'

'I imagine your Chair of Governor's reaction would be to start looking for a new head,' I had warned.

'You might want to stroke my cunt,' she told me, bringing my thoughts back to the present with a jerk.

'I might,' I agreed. 'But why do you think I would?'

'Because it's hot,' she smiled seductively, 'and juicy. Just how you like it.'

'How do you know I like it hot and juicy?' I asked, lightly running my fingertips over the saturated material of her thong.

She shivered with eager anticipation.

'Because you keep telling me you do,' she said confidently. 'And because you adore licking it and tongue-fucking it – when you're not sucking my clit.'

'And you like that, do you?'

Her hips were off the sofa now, her body language pleading with me to pull down the thong. I had other ideas.

'Show me,' I said.

'What?'

She had been so convinced I would start to undress her, my words took her by surprise.

'Show me. Show me just how hot and wet your cunt is. No, no! Keep the thong on. Just pull it to one side.'

With a naughty grin on her face, she pulled the material to one side and showed me the swollen lips of her cunt. Confident that she had my full attention, she slowly opened her legs. On a film, it would have been obscene and I suppose it was then, too. But I simply found it tremendously erotic as she blatantly exposed more and more of her glistening cunt.

'What does it look like?' she breathed excitedly, enjoying the situation every bit as much as I was because she could see from the look on my face and the bulge in my chinos that she was pressing all my buttons.

'Wonderful. You look like an actress in a porn film. It's just so . . . so . . . deliciously dirty.'

'If we went on that holiday,' she said persuasively, 'you could see me do something like this for one of the other men. Maybe all of them! Would you like that? To see your loving wife open herself wide so that a stranger could get a good look at her hot, juicy and freshly-shaved cunt before he shoves his dick into it?'

'God, Maggie!' I groaned, almost ripping open my flies in my eagerness to fuck her.

'You could watch me suck his dick – both before he fucks my cunt and then after, when it's dripping with his cum,' she goaded me.

At that point I took her with a hard thrust that practically drove the wind out of her. She whimpered in protest but she had got me so aroused I couldn't have stopped even if the bed collapsed.

'Oh, yes, Charlie, yes!' she panted. 'Fuck me good. Use that big dick of yours to make me moan.'

I was happy to oblige, thrusting into her with enthusiasm.

'Do you think those other women would moan if I did this?' I grunted.

'Of course they would! Shit, I would love to watch you doing this to another woman.'

I was way too excited to make it anything other than a wham-bang-thank-you-ma'am. Fortunately, she was feeling exactly the same way and, less than five minutes later, I reached the short strokes while she arched her back and more or less howled with release.

'Charlie?' she asked, as we slowly regained our breath some minutes later. 'Do you know what I'd like to try?'

'Fucking two men at once?' I guessed.

'No!' she said, shocked, before letting out a little giggle. 'Well, yes, actually, but that's going to have to wait until the holiday. No, I was thinking about something you and I could do.'

'Go on.'

'I'd like to try snowballing.'

'Oh. Wow!'

'What do you think?'

'I'm starting to think we don't need anyone else. Our sex life has improved unbelievably since That Night. I'd love to try a snowball.'

'How about you give me one?' she asked excitedly.

'You mean,' I asked, thinking quickly, 'I go down on you, now, after I've cum, and we share the, er, spoils?'

'Exactly.'

'That's so dirty.'

'I know.'

'And disgusting.'

'I know.'

I laughed and pulled off her sodden thong. She laughed too, and spread her legs apart. Her cunt was still wide open and traces of my semen beginning to appear. I assessed the situation.

'I think this will work best if you crouch over me,' I suggested, rolling onto my back on the carpet.

I could smell the mixture of our juices long before she was close enough for me to taste. Her more earthy scent was mingled with my slightly salty tang and the thought of sharing the spicy mix with her seemed as intimate an act as any of the others we'd been practising – and every bit as exciting.

Looking up I felt my dick twitch as her gaping cunt, flanked by the still engorged lips, descended towards me. Already the thick, creamy deposit I had made was beginning to seep out. I opened my mouth and attacked her cunt with my tongue as she came within reach.

I heard her gasp with pleasure as she felt my tongue darting about inside her, scooping out the viscous mixture that I was careful not to swallow. The taste was not unpleasant – obviously I had tasted Maggie's juices before and enjoyed them, but there was a mental barrier to climb here, as well as the physical one.

Until that moment, I had never even considered the idea of tasting my own cum. I told myself I was happy for Maggie to lick her juices off my dick, so why shouldn't I be happy to lick my juices out of her cunt? I think she probably thought along those lines too, so it was just as much about me being prepared to commit to this new and exciting relationship we were developing, as much as an enjoyable sexual act. Once those thoughts had run their course I found I was cleaning her out with ever-growing enthusiasm. When I judged I had just about got it all, I found Maggie almost quivering with eagerness to share my haul.

'Show me,' she demanded as I moved to kiss her.

Obediently, I opened my mouth to show her the result of my licking. She grinned delightedly and slipped her arms around my neck. As soon as our lips met I opened my mouth and her tongue darted in. For several moments we passed the sticky substance back and forth and then, as the kiss ended, we pulled apart and swallowed our shares.

'Best kiss you've given me in a long time,' she giggled. 'Next time, I'll suck you off and then pass it to you.'

I smiled and leaned over to plant a gentle kiss on her left nipple.

'If I'd known how good our sex was going to become as a result of your bit on the side, I'd have suggested you did it years ago,' I told her.

'I know. I find it hard to believe as well. There are times at work – like in assembly, or a staff meeting – when the only thing I can think about is getting home so we can fuck. My staff would be appalled if they knew how often their head's panties got wet, or what she got up to at home. Jealous, too!' she finished with a laugh.

'Do you think they'd be jealous if they knew what she was planning to do on holiday?' I asked.

She shivered at the thought and then looked at me seriously.

'We're still going then? Only when you said things are so good we don't need anyone else, I thought you were changing your mind.'

'Not unless you want to.'

'I want to go. I want to try it. I want to know if the excitement I got that night with Jeff was a one-off or something that would happen every time I took a lover. But even if it does, I'm not suggesting we have to spend the rest of our lives fucking other people.'

'I agree. So it's settled. We'll book it on-line tomorrow.'

'Really?'

'Really,' I promised.

'Excellent. Now, I'll tell you what else we'll do tomorrow – or rather, what we won't do,' she grinned.

'What's that?'

'You may not have noticed, but I've done the shopping for the weekend. We don't need to leave the house unless we want to. I think we ought to spend the entire weekend indoors, naked. All the curtains are already drawn, we just won't open them in the morning.'

'That sounds like it could be fun.'

'If anyone calls, we ignore them. If they phone for whatever reason we say we think we have a twenty-four hour virus of some sort. I've got lots of nice food and there's plenty of beer and wine. What's the matter?' she asked anxiously, noticing the look on my face. 'Don't you like the idea?'

'No, no, it's not that,' I told her, trying to keep my face straight. 'Only, how are you going to explain to your staff and pupils on Monday why you can't walk properly or sit down comfortably?'

'Why won't I be able to . . .' she began before the penny dropped. 'Oh! So you think you're going to fuck me to a frazzle, do you?'

'Damn right. This is your idea, so presumably you're going to let me stick my dick every place I can, whenever I want. I reckon by Monday morning you'll be worn out – in at least three places.'

'Oh, you do, do you?' she giggled. 'I reckon that little apology for a dick of yours will be worn down to a pencil long before I'm even half-way satisfied.'