You would absolutely never take my wife Emma to be the person she is. I mean, you always know that the people you see every day have more to them than meets the eye, but most of that stuff is all pretty mundane. A cop that collects action figures; a woman who loves boxing, etc. The list goes on and on. Well, my wife is a sex-addict, and you'd never know it from looking at her. She's petite, loves baking cookies for work, wears glasses when she can't be bothered to wear contacts, prefers jeans over skirts and t-shirts over blouses when dressing casual. She's cute as hell, though, and has a sweet little body with boobs that went from 32B to 32D after one particular tax refund a few years ago. You might see her in the office, or in the grocery store and think, "Hey, she's pretty cute," and you might wonder what she'd be like slobbering on your knob, but the truth would make your eyes pop. My wife loves sex, and cannot get enough of it, and I stopped trying to keep up a long time ago.
So you probably think I'm one of those cuckolded husbands -- but I'll be honest with you, that's not the case. She cheated with one guy a couple of times, and I'd never have found out about it, but she told me. I blew up, threatened divorce and all that, but we did counseling, and it all came out about her problem. I didn't believe it at first -- there are just waaaaay too many excuses for personal problems these days, and all I could think of for a while was "dirty fucking slut". I didn't believe where she said she'd be going, I was was always wondering who she'd be out fucking around with, and it eventually wore me down. I didn't want to divorce her, because I still loved her, and we just had a great time together. We spoke about it, and after a while came to an arrangement which I'll tell you about later. I hard a real hard time with it at first -- it pissed me off, is what it did, emasculated me -- all that stuff that fucks with your head. But after a while I told myself I had to get over it, and that was the turning point. We'd talk about it more, and it would turn me on, and we would have great sex, so I conditioned myself to accept it, and now I'm used to it, and it's completely fine with me. But you want me to skip to the action, and why not? The arrangement we made was that she'd never cheat on me again unless I was there when she wanted to do someone else. So we decided that the perfect thing to do was let her get it all out whenever we went on vacation -- no problem with embarrassedly meeting people from town and all that. Anyway, I'll tell you all this in greater detail from here on in.
We were in that area when we were still sort of dealing with the topic of her sex addiction and how we were going to cope with it -- it was right before Christmas and we were out of town for the weekend on a shopping trip. We were sitting in a mall food court and she said to me, "Say, you know how we're supposed to be getting that big tax return when we file?"
"Sure," I said.
"Well, it's not like we really need the money right? I was thinking I'd like to get a boob job with it."
I almost choked. "You're serious? Honey, we're going through something that I'm still finding hard to deal with. This feels like you're just turning it up."
"It's not like we never spoke about it before. You've fantasized about me having bigger boobs for ages."
"Right -- but that was before I knew about the whole sex-addiction thing."
"I don't see what difference it makes. I'm gonna want to screw whether I've got bigger tits or not. I just want to feel good about myself. If you wanted to get a bigger cock I wouldn't hold you back," she smiled. "Not that you're not already a good size, of course."
"Of course!" I laughed back. "Okay, we can talk about it more after we file, right?"
"I know what that means," she said, and rolled her eyes. But she'd disarmed me. I definitely like a handful, and I've made that comment before. I knew it was something that I would love, but of course at the same time, you know more people are going to be looking. We never spoke about it again that whole trip, and not again until that following February.
But for that particular trip, things heated up pretty quickly. We were done with our shopping that day and were planning on having a meal and heading back to the hotel for an early night when she said, in the car, "Honey, you know how we spoke to the counselor and agreed that I should tell you whenever I start to get that feeling?"
The feeling she described was like her heart falling into the pit of her stomach, making her pussy and nipples ache suddenly. She wasn't able to think of anything after that other than getting off. The counselor suggested masturbating wherever that was possible, just to get rid of the sensation, and that's what Emma would do if for whatever reason I couldn't service her. It wasn't always convenient, as you can imagine, but she'd done it in the car a few times whenever she had to.
"I really need to get off," she said, and started unbuttoning her jeans. By the time I was leaving the parking lot, her jeans and panties were down around her ankles and her legs were wide open. It never usually took too long once she was at that point. So there I am trying to keep my eye on the cars in front of me, and my wife is beside me rubbing her clit like crazy. Tough job, let me tell you. After a few minutes, she was done, and the ride back to the hotel was as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary.
We brought our bags upstairs at the hotel and started getting ready for dinner. My cock was rock hard by that point, and when I pointed it out she get down on her knees right there and then and started sucking me off. My wife is an expert cocksucker -- after all, she loves to do it, and that to paraphrase GI Joe is half the battle. She takes care of the whole kit -- balls, shaft, head -- in a way that tells you how much she loves doing it. She likes to lick everything, and I especially love it when her tongue is down between my balls flicking back and forth, practically daring the cum to shoot out. I leaned back on the wall and looked down at her sucking my cock -- it's such a hot sight to see and feel her head pounding away at the shaft when she's in full cocksucking mode. I could feel myself about to cum, so I told her and she clamped her mouth on the head while her hand jerked hard on my shaft, and after about a minute of that my cum erupted into her mouth, which she swallowed in one gulp, and milked my cock until I'd finished cumming.
"Wow," she said. "That was a huge load."
"Damn, I could feel it was gonna be," I said, spent. She kissed the tip of my still-hard cock and got up to finish dressing. I took a piss to clear out the pipes and did the same.
We decided to check out the hotel restaurant. It was a small place, sort of decorated like a log cabin -- two-handed saws and beartraps were all over the walls. Made you feel as if you were underdressed if you never had a plaid shirt on. The menu wasn't all that spectacular, as you'd expect, I guess, but we decided to stay rather than going out to look.
It was pretty busy, being a Saturday night and all that. That, and the size of the place meant that we actually had to wait for a table. We were there hanging out when an older couple came in -- early to mid forties. The wife was good looking for her age -- a bit chunky, but really pretty, and sort of had an Asian look to her, and even though she was wearing a fairly loose denim shirt, you could tell she had big hooters. The husband was about as tall as me, short grey hair -- looked like a golfer was all I could think of. They came and stood by us while we were waiting and grumbled about how full the place was. I was looking at Emma at the time and immediately saw her give the husband a once over, and my cock started to get hard again. The waitress came over not long after that to say a table was opening up, but it might be half an hour before another one might be available, as a large party had just been seated not long before we got there. I could hear the wife of the couple tell her husband, "Let's just go somewhere else," and I immediately turned and invited them to sit with us.
"Are you sure?" asked the husband.
"Yeah, not a problem," I answered. Emma chimed in that it was totally fine, and after a couple of brief exchanges, they agreed. We all walked to a small table for four and sat down. I was sort of experimenting, I guess. I saw the way Emma looked at the husband and wondered what would be going through her mind. I was at the point in our relationship that sometimes I was turned on by the idea of seeing Emma getting fucked by another guy, and sometimes hating the idea, but I totally into it that night. Not that I thought anything was going to happen, of course. Like I said, I was more curious as to what Emma was thinking.
It was all small talk for a while -- where we all came from, what we all did -- the husband (Larry) was in IT, and his wife (Sandra) -- born in Hawaii -- managed a Walgreen's out of state. He golfed, she didn't. We spoke about their children at college, and just small things like that. We had downed two rounds of beer by the time the food came. I could feel myself stealing glances at the wife's titties, and while the waitress came to clear the plates, I looked again, just as she turned to say something to me, and there I was, busted, ha ha. I was incredibly embarrassed, and sort of ashamed too, and she indicated with a quick look that she knew I was looking before continuing with her comment, which was so innocuous I forget it as soon as I replied. We worked another beer, and the husband stood to and went to the bathroom and that's when the conversation turned in a different direction. The wife leaned forward and said, "You know, I have to be perfectly honest with you guys -- my husband and I both like to swing sometimes. He would never say anything, but I would for the four of us to get together."
