With the usual disclaimers; if notions of adultery, infidelity, and cuckolding are troublesome for you, or trigger you, best to hit your "back" button now... this is one of a continuing series of related stories.
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This is the recounting of what I believe to be my wife's first extra-marital cheating experience. For context, we had been married for about three years at that point. Two children, a career, and graduate school were factors in our lives, along with a compounding issue. I had developed an infatuation, and initiated an affair with a young woman, a colleague and collaborator, who was also attending the same accelerated, advanced degree program.
The affair was on-again, off-again - we were both married, and had the combined issues of family, the master's program and work to contend with. It was logistically difficult, even though we had a built-in venue to use, my firm's corporate apartment.
Mostly driven by stress, available time, and the degree to which I was becoming attached to my affair partner, along with significant guilt, I broke off the affair.
It was difficult for both of us, because we collaborated professionally, and still carpooled to classes at night and on the weekends. We were still in constant, unavoidable contact.
Despite that, I tried to hold to not seeing her in the intimate, or sexual context - avoiding backsliding, and instead focused on work, school, and family.
Unfortunately, even though I was trying to end the affair, my wife KK became suspicious, and very jealous of my colleague and former affair partner. She was constantly accusing me of fucking around, even though at that point I was not, and she had no proof (that I knew of) that I'd been fucking around.
One night, I came home very late from a business meeting. I knew my wife had been frustrated with the amount of time I was spending on work, and that frustration had been building up over time. But sometimes the late hours were unavoidable.
When I got home, KK wasn't there. I wasn't aware of any plans she had, there was no note, and we hadn't communicated about her being gone that evening. Our kids were out of town, staying with my in-laws. That had been arranged to allow us to take a short break, and enjoy a four-day getaway to a Lake Tahoe resort. The house was eerily empty.
I was concerned, and after an hour or so, I called her cell phone, which went immediately to voicemail. I called again, a while later, the voicemail picked up, and I left another message.
My mind was racing, and I searched the house for signs of what might be going on - had she left me? I remembered that I'd forgotten to check the garage, which I immediately did, and I found her car was gone.
I went back to the bedroom to see if her things were still there, and found relief that there was nothing obviously gone, her clothes, shoes, and other items were still in place.
I found a damp towel on the rack, and some of her make-up items were out of place on her dressing table, but otherwise things were "normal."
I checked the storage closet where we kept luggage, and all the bags appeared to be in place, undisturbed. I checked my own voicemail, both personal, and at the office to make sure I hadn't missed any messages. Nothing... it just wasn't like my wife to disappear like this.
For a while, I was growing increasingly worried, and made myself a drink to try and relax. I gulped that first one down, and made another. I was also exhausted from work, and the exhaustion combined with the alcohol led me to fall asleep.
At about 3:00am, I woke up to the sound of a door opening and closing. I figured it must be my wife. I decided to feign sleep to see what KK might do.
I caught glimpses of my wife, wearing a mid-thigh, black leather skirt, stockings, stiletto heel pumps, and a white silk blouse.
I was struck by the way she was dressed - a hot outfit, combined with her unexpected absence, and late return were incongruent with "normal" behavior for a wife and mom.
The lights were on, so it was fairly easy to sneak peeks as KK went about whatever she was doing.
She appeared slightly disheveled, the skirt twisted on her hips slightly, and the blouse wrinkled up, with what looked like a button missing. Her hair was also a mess.
She got some water from the kitchen, and passed through the den on her way to the master bedroom, leaving me feigning sleep in the chair, without a word or acknowledging my presence.
I waited for a bit, and eventually heard the shower running, so I got up and went to the bedroom. Her clothing was over the back of a chair, and the master bath door was closed - there were no panties, just a bra, her thigh-highs, the blouse, and skirt, with her shoes kicked slightly under the chair.
I examined the items of clothing, and noticed distinct stains on the stockings, blouse and skirt, and even on the toe of one of her shoes - it appeared to be dried cum!
My cock was hard as steel, and I felt slightly sick to my stomach, a twinge of nausea as I pondered the situation. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it, and feel it in my ears.
I heard the shower stop running, and quickly returned to the den, to see what might happen next. A short while later, KK, standing in front of me, "awakened" me, saying, "Come to bed - it's very late." My wife's hair looked wet, and she was nude, which for her was unusual, as she almost always wore a robe or pajamas of some sort. I got up, and we went to bed.
After a short while, KK rolled over toward me, and started to fondle and stroke my cock, again, unusual as I almost always initiated any sexual contact in those days. I was instantly hard, and within a few minutes, she was sucking and licking me.
I tried to touch her, but she closed her legs, denying me access to her pussy. I was frustrated by her denial, and simultaneously aroused.
It for some reason made me feel harder, and the sensations of her lips and tongue on my erect cock more intense. It occurred to me that there must be some reason she wouldn't let me touch her pussy.
While my wife sucked and licking my cock, twirling her tongue on my cock-head, I was thinking about the outfit - the stains, the dried droplet of what was almost certainly cum on the toe of her stiletto... my cock felt outrageously hard, and I was knitting together pieces of things that may, or may not have been true. The signs added up to the possibility that my wife had been out fucking around!
KK sucked me to orgasm, and let me cum in her mouth, again unusual in those days, and she swallowed every drop, then gave me a cum-breath goodnight kiss, and rolled over and went to sleep. I tried to sneak a touch, a probe of her pussy, but every time my fingers went there, she sort of violently clamped her thighs together and rolled away from me. I finally went to sleep.
The next day, we went about our routine, with no mention of the event, and I never challenged her about that night. I was fairly certain, within 99%, that she had been out fucking around.
There was really no realistic, "just" way of confronting her about my suspicion, at least no obvious means that wouldn't likely result in self-incrimination or worse.
Years later, she confessed the event to me.
As part of couples and other therapy, we'd been encouraged to be more open, more honest, even down to potentially painful disclosures about affairs, casual sex, discussion of fantasies, kinks, and secret desires. KK and I had worked out many erotic, pleasurable releases, in bed together along the lines of our therapist's suggestions, ranging from confessions, while sexually stimulating one another, to fantasy role-play, like being bound and/or blindfolded and "forced" to confess, or describe a fantasy or secret desire.
One night, during one of these role-play scenarios, I had agreed to humor KK in a particular fantasy realization. I allowed KK to shackle my wrists and ankles to the bed posts, and bind my cock and balls. She had seen some porn in which a dominatrix bound a man, then squatted over his erect cock, and teased just his cock-head using her labia, and slowly fucked just the tip of his cock.
During this highly charged situation, KK was on her knees, occasionally lowering herself onto my throbbing cock, taking just the cock-head into her pussy, just inside her labia, where she'd contract her PC muscles, teasing and tormenting me.
Out of the blue, KK said, "Do you still think about fucking Laura?" I paused before responding, partly at the unexpected nature of the question, and uncertain of how I might respond to the question of sex with an affair partner my wife absolutely despised.
I decided to be honest - "Yes, every once in a while. Not often, but I sometimes think about Laura when I masturbate."
KK's response was harsh; "You know that I could still kill that trashy little bitch. But she's not worth the effort."
It was an odd feeling to be in such a vulnerable state, with my wife tormenting my bound cock with her wet pussy, engaged in what appeared to be an intensifying and hostile conversation.
