Fornication

Christmas had come early in our household with the unexpected gift of a brand new 'Hotwife and Cuckold' relationship after more than twenty years of monogamous marriage.

Although my husband Pete had tried very hard to persuade me to take a lover for over a year, when it had actually started, it had been a surprise to us both.

It had all starred nearly two months earlier when to both our surprises, I had let Tony, a long-time family friend seduce, strip and fuck me on our lounge floor after giving me a lift home from the railway station. We had both been expecting me to smile indulgently and swat his wandering hands away from my bottom after one of his habitual 'farewell fondles' but for some reason, at that time on that day in that room, something had made me simply stop resisting and nature had taken its inevitable, pleasurable, guilt-ridden course.

To this day I can't be sure whether any other set of circumstances would have produced the same result but the question is academic. I had been seduced, been thoroughly fucked and had embarked on a passionate affair with my new lover.

It had been very difficult a month later when I had confessed to my husband that I had finally yielded to his persuasion and was now a 'fallen woman'. As you can imagine, the atmosphere between us had been strained to breaking point. Pete had slept in the guest bedroom that night then had stayed away from home for two whole days - I still didn't know where.

I had been convinced my marriage and family life were over but on his return my extraordinary husband had given his tentative blessing to my affair as long as certain conditions were met; conditions that with untold relief I had accepted.

So I had become a Hotwife, my husband had become a cuckold and a passionate few weeks had ensued during which I had enjoyed the best sex in my fifty-plus years of life.

Soon, with Christmas on our doorstep and the kids due home any day, I would have to abandon our new lifestyle for a couple of weeks and make the transition back to being a Mum again. This meant wrapping presents, cooking, ironing and other domestic chores that jarred with my new highly sexualised existence but a period of normality would do us all good and in a way, I was looking forward to it.

Thursday evening had been my second Official Hotwife Date with Tony. Friday had been the pre-Christmas dinner we traditionally enjoyed with our friends so unusually, Pete and I we were having a Saturday night at home. Apart from the soreness in my vulva and a dull ache in my hips, things could almost have been normal.

As we hovered around the kitchen preparing dinner, Pete refilled my glass with red wine, sat me down at the table and perched opposite me with an expression on his face I couldn't quite read. For a moment I wondered what was about to happen. Had it not been for all the previous conversations in which he had seemed very happy with our new lifestyle, I would have been worried by the look. But then he looked straight into my eyes and smiled.

"I've been thinking."

"I thought you had. You look worried," I replied. "Are you having second thoughts again?"

"God no!" he replied instantly. "Quite the opposite."

"So what is 'it'?" I asked with what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

Pete looked embarrassed.

"You know how I find it exciting to think about it and talk about it between dates?" he asked tentatively. "About you being fucked by another man?"

I noticed Pete seldom mentioned Tony by name these days but I didn't say anything.

"I've only been fucked twice," I laughed, amazed at how easily and freely we both now used the 'f' word. "Officially that is, but I know what you mean. I find it exciting too," I told him truthfully. "It is exciting!"

He was obviously pleased.

"Well, I wondered if you'd maybe consider some kind of sign that you're doing it. Something to remind us both about it every day. Something to help keep the 'buzz' going between dates?"

I was taken aback; this was completely unexpected but at the same time, strangely exciting.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, puzzled.

"I'm not sure. I wondered about something like wearing something special. Or maybe a necklace. Or not wearing your wedding ring all the time."

"It couldn't be anything obvious," I said. "We can't risk anyone guessing what's going on."

"That's right," Pete replied thoughtfully. "I did wonder whether you might get a tattoo or even a piercing."

"I'm not sure about that," I protested, frowning though the idea sent a thrill through me.

"It was just a thought. But whatever it is, it's got to be there all the time. It's got to remind us both constantly of what you're doing - what we're doing," he corrected himself.

"I'll think about it," I said, fully intending to do just that.

Pete refilled our glasses, replaced the bottle on the counter top then stood behind my chair. I felt his hands on my shoulders, massaging them gently.

"Are you still sore down there?" he asked as his fingers worked their magic on my muscles.

"Not too bad. I'm stiff and achy though," I smiled. "What with Tony and then you, my body's taken a bit of a pounding the last two days. If this is going to continue, I'd better get to the gym a lot more."

"I still can't believe it's all real," his voice was low and soothing as he continued his very pleasant manipulation of my stiff shoulders and neck.

"Neither can I," I agreed. "I'm so pleased you're okay with it all."

"Well so far I am," he told me honestly. "I'm not sure how far it will go but if we're careful; if it really is just fucking..."

"Which it is," I interjected.

"And we still really love each other..." he continued.

"Which we do," I added.

"Which we do," Pete repeated. "Then maybe we're just found a whole new and exciting lifestyle for our old age."

"Hey! Who are you calling old?" I demanded, elbowing him playfully in the groin.

Pete pretended to be hurt then dropped to his knees alongside my chair.

"I would still like to watch you," he whispered. "Remember what we talked about? All our fantasies?"

"I don't know, Pete," I began to object. "It's all so new and Tony's an old friend and..."

"I don't mean now, Penn," Pete interrupted. "Maybe once things have settled in the New Year."

"Maybe," I replied, very unsure.

Pete was right though, I had to admit. Having my husband watch me being fucked had been a major part of our fantasies. He moved closer until his mouth was only inches from my ear.

"You want it too, Penn; I know you do."

I wasn't at all sure he was right. I was even less sure how Tony might react to the idea but I played along.

"What do I want, Pete? Tell me what I want!"

"You want me to see it all. You want me to watch as you cheat on me."

"What do you want to see, Pete? What do you want to see me do?"

His hand began to slide up my thigh as he replied.

"I want to see it all! I want to watch you being seduced, Penn. I want to see you resist, then give in to him."

His hand was between my legs now, his fingers touching the gusset of my knickers.

"I want to see you kissing, open mouthed as if you were teens. I want to see his hands on your body; on your breasts; on your bottom. I want to see him strip you; finger you. I want to see your juices all over his hands."

Pete's fingers were massaging my slit through my panties. I was lubricating like crazy as he carried on.

"I want to hear you beg him to fuck you! I want to see you spread you legs for him like a whore. I want to see your face when he sticks his cock into you; I want to see what your cunt looks like when it's stretched around his thick shaft. Is his cock really thick Penny?"

"Yes! Oh yes!"

His words were bringing back powerful, vivid memories of the last two months as Pete's fingers expertly worked my cotton-covered slit. Oh my God! My husband was about to make me cum without even removing my panties.

"I want to watch you cum so hard that it hurts. I want to hear you moan. I want to hear you scream! I want to see you helpless with orgasms. I want to see you doing all the things with him that we're never going to be able to do ourselves."

"OhhhhPeeeeeettte!"

My body shook with the tremor of a minor orgasm, then another, larger one. I clung onto his strong shoulders for support as there, on the kitchen chair and still fully clothed, my cuckold husband Pete gave his fifty-one year old unfaithful wife a real, panty-soaking climax.

Something had to be right if we could produce that level of passion after more than twenty years of marriage!

We hugged for a long time before my trembling stopped then Pete went back to his seat and something close to normality returned.

"So you'll think about it?" he asked as if offering a choice of paint for the lounge.

"About wearing something?" I asked stupidly, my mind still buzzing.

"About letting me watch," he said impatiently.

"I'll think about it," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Great!" my husband grinned.

The tension over, we sipped our wine and talked about more prosaic things. After a while I casually mentioned that I hadn't been able to find the new thong that I had worn for my date on Thursday or the black panties from my first date. Pete had done all the washing and ironing for the last couple of weeks and I asked if he had seen them.

"Um... do you need them?" Answering my question with another question boded ill.

"I've got others but they're new and quite expensive," I replied. "Have you seen them?"

"Um... I've got them," he mumbled.

"You've got them?" I asked, suprised. "Why? Where?"

"In a box in my wardrobe," he replied, ashamed. "Souvenirs."

I must have looked horrified because a look of shame came over his face.

"Are you shocked? Disgusted?"

"N... no," I lied.

I didn't say so but I must confess I did feel a bit revolted at first, after all they must have smelled quite strongly by then. But after a very short time I began to feel strangely pleased, perhaps even a little aroused by the idea.

"If that's what you want to do, I'm in no position to comment, am I?" I added.

There was an awkward moment of silence during which my mind filled with questions. Was this normal for a husband? That was a ridiculous question; our entire new lifestyle wasn't normal. Was it normal for a cuckold? I would have to find a way of asking my online cuckold friends

But all that would have to wait for another day because at that moment the front door opened and our daughter arrived home for the festivities.

After a quick welcome hug, I took myself upstairs for a much-needed change of knickers!

***

Two days later, the door to my office was closed, the telephones surprisingly silent as I sat alone at my desk typing guiltily into my laptop. As Head of Department it was traditional for me to work Christmas Eve to allow the more junior employees to have a longer break. With my children grown up, I didn't mind this. In fact in previous years I had welcomed the relative peace and quiet the day brought.

This year of course there was so much more to think about. In addition to wondering what the New Year might hold for us, the relative quiet in the hospital gave me time to think about my husband's latest idea. I had to confess I was really quite excited at the prospect of having some kind of sign or symbol I could display every day in public something that indicated my new status as a Hotwife, but which only Pete and I would recognise as such.

I wondered what he was doing about that - apart from hoarding my used knickers, of course. That idea still unnerved me a little; my younger brother had once stolen a few pairs of my used knickers when we were teens. Although I had made a big show of being disgusted when I had found out and had called him many horrible names, in fact the incident had secretly made me feel really sexy and exciting.

The thought that my husband was now doing the same thing was having a similar effect now. I had fired off a few messages to my online cuckold friends but without reply. No doubt they were busy with their own busy festivities.

The phone suddenly rang, making me jump and for a few minutes I had to deal with a problem on the wards. Afterwards I returned to my desk and mentally checked over the presents I had bought in case I had forgotten something or someone.

The family presents that year revolved mostly around clothes, with a trouser press for our son and boots for our daughter. Pete liked it when I chose him clothes so he would be getting things I thought he would look great in. He had really toned up since he learned of my affair with Tony and his shirts were getting a little tight around the shoulders and biceps.

In my own case, since my affair with Tony began, I had dropped a full dress size and, with my legs also getting more toned in the gym, had started wearing rather tighter-fitting jeans and shorter dresses and skirts than I used to.

This was an unexpected side effect of my new sex life but was very welcome indeed. I laughed when I thought of all the diets I had tried and abandoned over the years when all the time, all I had needed to do was open my mind and spread my legs!

I had bought Tony a pair of cufflinks. They were a designer brand and I knew he would love them; I had seen him admire a similarly themed pair I got for Pete's birthday. I had posted them through his door early that morning with a note so he could hide them before his kids arrived. I had a small package from him hidden in my wardrobe to open in private in the morning.

By the time I arrived home that evening, the house was full. All three kids had arrived along with one girlfriend and their four Grandparents. Thank goodness our house was large! We hugged and laughed and talked and drank before dinner, then my parents returned to their own house while a few of us went to Midnight Mass.

As we walked home in the early hours of Christmas morning I realised that, for the first time since my affair had begun nearly two months ago, I hadn't thought about sex for nearly five hours.

***

The following morning was Christmas Day. I woke early as usual and had a little while on my own to read my email messages and even add a paragraph or two to my latest story before the rest of the household woke.

The day itself went about as well as I can remember. My parents returned for lunch and nothing spoiled the day. Later, full of food, we all sat and watched the Queen's Christmas message like tens of millions of households throughout the world. It felt... normal.

The presents were a success too, with almost all clothes fitting first time for a change. My daughter's boots turned out to be the right size for me too which was an unexpected bonus. I noticed they were spirited up to her room very quickly when I wasn't looking!

Tony and I exchanged a few sneaky texts. He loved his cufflinks; his present to me turned out to be Acqua di Parma cologne which was a great call on his part. I had liked it for a long while and it turned out to be one of his favourites too so guess what I was to wear on our next date!

Pete surprised me by having two sets of presents for me; one set for 'Mummy Penny' and another couple of gifts for 'Hotwife Penny' hidden in our bedroom. The latter turned out to be six pairs of sexy panties for my dates - two black, two white, one red and one cream; three thongs and three high cut thigh.

No doubt he planned for each pair to be used only once, soiled with semen then added to his collection. The idea was a bit creepy but they were lovely; some were silk, some satin but were all sexy and expensive. They made me feel sexy too when I tried them on in front of him that night.

His other present for me was a surprise and gave me a real thrill.

Pete had bought me a Pandora charm bracelet which looked very much like the ones our daughter and many of my friends wore, but with an important difference. My bracelet had only four charms so far; one discreetly bearing the letter 'H', another with the letter 'P' alongside. I looked at him for an explanation.

"'H' is for Hotwife. 'P' is for Penny," he smiled.

There were a couple of 'spacers' then two pretty blue glass charms with heart motifs, one each side of the letters.

"Those are to mark your dates. Each time you get fucked, you earn a new charm."

"Wow!" was all I could say. "You've really thought it out."

He smiled, pleased.

"The blue ones are for your dates with Tony. He's fucked you twice - officially - so there are two of them. If you ever have other boyfriends, I'll buy you a different colour charm for each one."

"Other boyfriends?" I asked. "We're only just coming to terms with the first one."

He blushed.

"That might not always be the case, Penn," Pete said softly.

I was gobsmacked. It was an amazing idea. Pete explained that I should wear the bracelet every day, discreetly flaunting my infidelity in a way only he and I would understand. The more unfaithful I was, the more charms would be on the bracelet and the more obvious it would be to us both.

"What about all the times he fucked me before I told you?" I asked.

"They don't count," Pete said a little harshly. "That was just cheating. I don't want to remember those times."

I let it drop instantly. However well things were going now, it was still very early days in our new lifestyle. I could tell that my month of illicit infidelity prior to confessing had hurt my husband. It had been a big mistake not to tell him earlier and I didn't want the memory of it to ruin the fresh new relationship we were building.

"What do you think?" he asked.

I really liked this idea and told him so, not just because I got a new piece of jewellery I had admired for ages, but also because I loved the idea of a constant reminder too. I would have to think of a convincing reason for wearing the letters H and P in case anyone asked, but they were discreet and the more charms I got on the bracelet, the less the letters would be noticed.

I donned it immediately and wore it proudly all day. The thought of what it meant as I flaunted it in front of my parents and our three children, all of whom were rather prudish as far as their parents are concerned, gave us both a thrill.

Once all four Grandparents had returned home and it was just the five of us (plus one girlfriend) in the house, we opened a further bottle of wine and relaxed. Pete and I cuddled up on the sofa and kissed once on the lips.

"For God's sake Mum!" our daughter moaned, a look of nausea on her face. Pete and I giggled.

We went early and tipsy to bed. Both of us wanted to make love but didn't dare with eight anxious, eavesdropping ears in the house.

***

Boxing Day dawned bright and cheerful. We had an early breakfast and to our surprise, were joined by all three kids. After the late night and the wine I had not expected to see either of them before eleven but there they were, fully dressed if rather dopey just after eight o'clock.

We spent the day walking in the Peak District, the cold air and beautiful scenery putting all thoughts of illicit sex out of my mind. If I hadn't been wearing my bracelet, I might have gone the whole day without thinking about Tony or his thick cock and the orgasms it had induced.

But I was wearing the bracelet so I thought about them often. Pete and I exchanged glances many times.

My husband is a genius.

***

The following day was spent in a large shopping centre about an hour's drive away. The January sales had started early so we bought a few necessary items for the house and a few more clothes, mostly for me.

Pete had always enjoyed choosing clothes for me, especially dresses so we passed a few wonderfully close hours in a series of shops trying on everything that caught his or my eye before returning to the first one to actually buy. It was classic female buying behaviour; I should have been ashamed of myself but in fact enjoyed the attention immensely.