Samantha Scratches an Old Itch

I want to tell you about Samantha. Her build is petite, her features like those of a pixie -- really cute -- and my pet name for her is "Tinkerbelle". "Belle" for short. She and I first met at an office party. There was no doubt about the mutual attraction, and that developed into romantic love when we were dating. We had the usual ups and downs -- you know -- fights and reconciliations. Finally, though, we agreed our relationship had what it takes to make the ultimate commitment to each other.

As newlyweds we remained very much in love, and I was in no doubt that would always be the case.

I kind of thought of myself as a switched-on modern guy so I wasn't out there expecting to find a virgin to marry; nor was it likely that I did. I couldn't be certain, because Belle and I had an unspoken agreement not to talk about previous sexual partners.

I learnt, after a few dates, that she wasn't shy about intimacy, or ignorant about sexual activity. So either she was very self-confident in her sexuality and well read on sexual techniques or she was carnally experienced before we met. The latter seemed fairly likely because we had no trouble with the obstacle of a hymen the first time.

I hardly gave her sexual history a thought while we dated. It began to obsess me after our wedding day. We had great sex together in marriage but I was always wondering if I was as good as the best of her previous copulatory partners. Did she, for example, still miss the erotic expertise of any of those men?

If that was not self-torture enough I began wondering if she had behaved differently in bed with other men. My own sexual tastes were quite refined; I'd never really gone in for fetishes.

Were there, I wondered, sex acts she had enjoyed performing with those other men that weren't in our repertoire with each other? Had she groaned in sexual pleasure with them in a different way than she did with me? Had she eagerly held herself open for their cocks?

There were so many intimate little things that I wanted just to be personal.

My angst ended up with Belle's premarital sex-life becoming unfinished business between us, even though I knew that was as crazy as her feeling the same way about my sexual past would have been. To raise one with her was to raise the other. On top of that, there would be the real torture of finding out the things she'd actually physically done with other men. What if they had involved acts I would not want her to have participated in or done?

Belle kept those sorts of secrets to herself. The more I obsessed about them though, the more I wanted to find out. I began reading porn stories on Literotica.Com about wives who, with and without the knowledge of their husbands, were unfaithful. I could not relate the stories to my own situation -- you know, put Belle in them as the cheating wife -- but they exercised a growing fascination for me.

In the darkest moments of my obsession I began to imagine Belle having sex behind my back with other men. I would torture myself with jealousy by picturing her doing it -- her body naked, her nipples standing out, the moisture of sexual arousal on her private parts, and another guy's cock sliding into her.

I had no reason to suspect her, and kept convincing myself it was unlikely to ever happen.

It was the website stories about wives being openly unfaithful that aroused me more than I expected. Could you even call it infidelity when the husband had consented or arranged it? There was no deceit by the wife, no unilateral breach of exclusivity. Not that the stories helped me accept how a husband could tolerate another man intimately sharing his wife, even if he wanted to watch.

The stress of not knowing what Belle might secretly yearn for got the better of me one night in bed.

"Samantha," I said as casually as I could, trying to sound like a man of the world, "have you ever thought about open marriage?"

She looked up from her book, searching my eyes for what lay behind the question. "Why would I?"

"I just wanted to know if you're content the way things are."

She looked mildly suspicious. "Aren't you?"

"Of course. You know how much I love you -- only you."

She gave me an adoring look. "I'm glad."

I hesitated. "You know I'll never want anyone but you." We were still staring at each other lovingly. "I just wanted you to know..." I swallowed nervously "...provided it's only casual..." my tongue started to have trouble getting the words out "...you know, if you wanted to ... wanted to have sex with other men occasionally..." her eyes were widening in disbelief "...I could maybe accept it."

"You're sick!" She turned away in disgust, and shook off my hand when I put it on her shoulder in an attempt at reconciliation.

I assumed then I was wrong about my fears, and about her having any interest in becoming like one of the wives in the porn stories I'd read. I felt so guilty!

"I'm sorry for what I said last night," I told her in the morning. I had been awake for an hour before she stirred, and was full of regret.

She seemed to accept my apology. "I thought about your question before I went to sleep." Her eyes drifted guiltily away from mine. "Then I had a dream..."

"A dream?"

"I was having casual sex with another guy, but it was all right because you allowed me to do that sort of thing with other men."

A lump filled my throat. I gulped. "It felt okay to you then?"

Belle looked thoughtful. "In the dream I was just doing it for the thrill. I knew I wanted to stay married to you."

"So you enjoyed it -- the sex?"

"Does that disgust you?"

"I'm just trying to understand."

She frowned slightly, as if choosing the right words, "I don't need the attention of other men -- you keep me satisfied..."

"But?"

"I can't help remembering from the dream how it felt to do it with someone else." The confession made her blush cutely.

"The sort of thrill you got with other guys before we met? Like, one-night-stands?"

"If I wasn't in a relationship."

I stared at her intently. "So coupling with different men is an adventure you'd like to experience again?"

"Only if you were understanding about it. It's not about conquest -- men are easy to seduce. It's more about how I used to feel whenever I let a new man touch me and I received him in my body."

"Received him?" I asked hoarsely.

"Letting a penis I'd never felt before slide up into my open vagina."

"And his semen too?" I was getting a hard-on in my pyjamas under the bedclothes.

"There's always a risk with that," she said in a tone that hardly hid that it was what she thought I wanted to hear.

"Did you take those risks?"

"Usually." Her eyes lowered.

"Why?"

"I guess they didn't matter as much as the simple joy of feeling a guy's cum squirt inside me -- knowing his penis isn't separated from the walls of my vagina by latex."

The flesh-to-flesh bit I could relate to from a male point of view.

Belle went on, "One guy I was in a relationship with used to like ejaculating when he was right at the entrance. Then he'd kneel between my legs and watch while I'd squeeze my labia together with my fingers and make his cum well up in the split."

"Sounds messy," I said to hide my emotional reaction.

Belle giggled. "It was rather. He'd shoot heaps and I loved the feel of it squishing between my fingers."

The revelation was more than I wanted to hear. The man in me, not the husband, asked, "Didn't it mat your pubic hair?"

"While I was with that guy I used to shave it all off," she told me casually.

"Totally bare?" I choked.

"He said seeing his cum in my split looked better that way."

"What else did you do for him?"

"Pretty much everything he wanted," she remembered, flushing.

"Like?"

"You don't want to know."

"I said I do."

"You really don't want to know." She rolled her eyes theatrically.

"Nothing you've done, or could ever do, would offend me, Tinkerbelle. There's nothing shameful about enjoying sex."

"Even when it gets kinky?"

"That's okay if you liked it." Horny, I really believed what I'd just said.

"There were things I used to like that you wouldn't want to hear about."

"They're part of who you are, so of course I would." Curiosity was torturing me.

"I didn't know I'd enjoy them until they happened... Like the time I was with my boyfriend -- the one who used to like to watch afterwards. Three of his male buddies dropped round while I was at his flat one night. David and I got a little drunk with them, and he said how much I liked what came out of men's balls..."

I asked with a dry throat and throbbing cock, "What happened?"

"David said I should milk them all off into a bowl then lap up their cream..."

"Did you?"

"The idea appealed to me -- you know, seeing their cocks stiff and then jerking them off one by one, but not the thought of drinking what I milked out of them."

The part she liked was sluttish enough, I thought ... but she was drunk at the time.

Belle went on, "I just undid their flies -- David's too -- and let their cocks stick out. It was kind of fun deliberately milking them into a bowl and seeing all the cum accumulating on the sides and pooling at the bottom -- and I got some of their sticky stuff over my fingers..." Belle's eyes were excited. "I tried to do each guy in a slightly different way, and the others shouted lewd encouragement."

"What happened then?"

Her stare wavered. "David had me strip down to my underwear. He put the bowl on the floor so I'd have to go on my hands and knees. He said, 'Now, Sammie-pussy, be a good pet and drink the fresh cream'."

"Did you?" I felt like my cock was in my throat.

"They were all watching me expectantly and ogling my cleavage, which excited me even more..."

"So what did you do?" I had almost stopped breathing.

"The situation was kind of crazy and I'd gotten carried away. I said I didn't think pussies wore bras and panties when they lap their milk. David replied, 'Well, take them off.' The other guys seemed just as keen that I did.

"I remembered my pubic area was all shaved, but I drunkenly recalled that cats had pretty bare private parts when they lifted their tails, so it seemed appropriate." She giggled. "I undressed completely and got down on all fours. I was very sexually aware of what the men behind me could see. My cunt was getting wet, and I wished I could have had a fluffy tail to hide it."

Cunt wasn't a word Belle normally used -- preferring the proper anatomical term.

"Knowing fully what I was about to do," she went on, "I bent my head and licked the cum on the sides of the bowl. I don't know how I would have reacted if the guys had taken advantage of me while I was in that position, but they just watched. It was out of deference to David I guess. They did make ribald comments -- you know, about what I was doing and how much they were enjoying the display of my private parts. I should have been as embarrassed as hell but I was drunk enough not to care. I even found I liked being made the nude centre of attention in a cluster of well-behaved males..."

She looked away again. "You know, it turned me on like I'd never experienced before."

"You wanted them all to fuck you?"

"No. It was autoerotic. I got off just having them watch me."

"Got off?"

"Had an orgasm. I hid it pretty well."

I felt like nothing could shock me after that. "So did you finish all the cum?"

"Pretty much. I tried to concentrate on what it was, not on how it tasted. The dirty things the guys were saying made that easier, and I didn't have to pretend -- I loved it!

Occasionally I even poked my tongue out at them cheekily to show I really was swallowing."

I asked, since she seemed to have lost any inhibition about telling me the details, "What happened once you finished lapping?"

"It didn't seem right to get dressed, so I stayed nude..."

"And?"

"We had some more drinks and talked -- as if my state of undress was quite natural _"

"That was all that happened?"

"The guys had all shot their loads, and I'd climaxed. But I did occasionally find a pretext for opening my legs to let them see me again -- you know, my bare labia and split -- like when I was getting to my feet, and moving around."

I could imagine her exposed vulva at eye level in front of the seated men.

She added, "Even satisfied men don't lose interest in that kind of thing, and flaunting it was still giving me kicks. They accepted David was only allowing them the chance to look, and weren't expecting more. I was enjoying it too. It was the first time I'd been nude in a group of partying men."

"Did you want to do more?"

"I hid it from myself, but part of me did, I think. Not that I would have let that turn into reality even if I had admitted it to myself."

"Did you ever do anything else like that?"

"Something kinky you mean? Not deliberately, but like I told you sometimes things just happened..."

Cock nearly splitting, I asked, "Like?"

"I was at a real party once, sitting on a sofa in a dark corner, and I let myself get a bit carried away. My boyfriend was fondling me through my blouse -- the next thing I knew he had it partly unbuttoned and had popped my tits out of their cups. A group of guys nearby had been pretending to mind their own business. But seeing me exposed like that was all the encouragement they needed to watch us openly... My boyfriend _"

"David?"

"No. It was Blake then... Anyhow, he put his hand under my skirt and pulled the crotch of my panties to one side _ "

"Were you still shaved?"

"I'd let my pubic hair grow back after I broke up with David."

"So, this Blake exposed your private parts right in front of the group of men watching?"

She shook her head. "He left my skirt down. I thought he was going to feel me up under it so they'd know what he was doing but not be able to see _ "

"What sort of party was it?"

"Not that sort! Couples were being amorous and necking but no one I could see had gotten as carried away as Blake and me."

I encouraged her to go on, "So you were prepared to let him feel you up in public?"

"Not exactly. It was a private party and only the few men were taking any notice, and that almost casually. Anyhow, my nipples had stiffened when Blake was playing with my tits, and my pussy was wet. I wanted him to touch me down there." She glanced at me. "It's like the sort of need you have when your penis gets stiff."

I looked understanding without any difficulty.

"Blake touched me all right, but just to find out how lubricated I was... Then he asked the other guys if they were interested in feeling me up.

"They thought he had taken offence at their stares and was being sarcastic. 'No, really,' he said. 'Samantha won't mind ... will you, Sam?' For a start I was offended by his assumption ... then I thought about them doing it to me, and it made me so excited I couldn't help myself... Blake suggested I lie down on the sofa with my legs open. I couldn't believe I actually did it!

"I kept my mini-skirt down for modesty's sake, but it started to ride up after a few guys' arms had been under it. My panties were pretty flimsy and they tore apart at the crotch -- probably when they slid back across my labia at some stage and one of the men simply pushed his finger right through." She recalled, "They took turns feeling me up. There were all these fingers, one after the other, poking me. It was unreal!"

As a fantasy image I could picture Belle in the scene she had described, but not the real Belle -- not the flesh and blood young wife sitting beside me in bed. Even so, I asked, "Did that give you orgasms?"

"The first guy made me come, but then I got too sore. Being fingered can get rough in a situation like that. By the time the last guy had his turn I looked raw. I refused to have vaginal sex with Blake when they left."

I didn't ask what she gave him as a substitute.

She said, "I hope I haven't upset you."

"I wanted to know."

"Have you heard enough yet?"

I tossed back the bedclothes to let her see the state I was in.

Her eyes widened. "Oh. I didn't expect that sort of reaction."

My penis, fully erect, had found its own way out of the flies of my pyjamas. She wrapped her hand round the shaft. "It seems there's a part of you that wants to hear more."

"Every dirty little thing you've ever done!"

She giggled and began pre-milking me gently. "Everything?"

"I don't want you to leave anything out."

"No matter how disgusting?"

"Start with that."

Well," she said, "once when I was on a family picnic out in the countryside I wanted to pee. I went into this two-cubicle wooden outhouse in among the trees. The men's was on one side and the women's on the other. I'd already taken my pants down inside when I saw this huge bare cock come through a hole in the dividing wall_ "

"A glory hole," I said.

"I guess so. A voice from the other side urged me to piss on the cock. I didn't know how old the guy was or whether he'd seen me go in or whether he was waiting for just any girl or woman to turn up. I guess he could even have checked me out through the hole before he stuck his cock in it. I'd never encountered a pervert before." She paused. "I was so shocked, I asked him, 'You want me to pee right on it?' He said, 'You do want to pee, don't you? Aim it against the wall above the hole.' I said something like, 'With your thing sticking through it?'

"I had a picture of my legs straddling the big thing in intimate proximity to my private parts. He said, 'The closer you get the better, honey.' I seriously considered it before I agreed."

Belle shrugged, "I was young and it was a novel experience."

"So you actually peed on the guy's cock -- facing forward?"

"I had to stand on tip toes and spread my thighs to make sure it didn't touch me, and then I just let go. I got my bare feet wet."

"And his cock, no doubt."

"That's what he wanted -- at the start."

"He asked you to do something else?"

"He left his cock sticking through the wall and asked me to let him put it up my back passage. I said I didn't do that sort of thing."

"Good for you!"

"He asked my why, and I said it was unnatural..." she giggled "...even though I'd just peed on the guy." She looked up from what she was doing to my cock. "You must think I was unnatural, peeing on him?"

"Definitely kinky, but I can see how you might be tempted in that sort of situation."

"At the time I did think it would kind of a turn-on to have a stranger's cock so close between my legs while I squirted girl-piss on it."

"I'm surprised you didn't let him butt-fuck you."

She gave me a disapproving frown but did not take her hand off my erection. She told me, "When I wouldn't, he asked if he could watch me drying myself. I stood in front of the hole, pulled up my skirt, and let him. By then I wasn't all that shy about normal bodily functions. After that, I said he had to reciprocate. Unfortunately I couldn't see his face when I looked through the hole, but I did see enough of his body -- with his trousers down -- to find out he wasn't a young guy.

"It kind of worked me up -- you know -- the idea of sex with a much older guy, but I was too scared by the thought of going all the way. I told him that if he stuck his cock through again I'd slide my pussy split along it for him."

"So that's what you did?"

"His cock was still stiff enough, and I didn't have to stand right up on my toes this time. It was like a pole sliding horizontally between my legs when I thrust back and forward. The part that poked out from the wall got all slippery from my juices..." She was breathing deeply. "The illicit thrill of what I was doing was all I cared about. The guy came in the end, and when I twisted round his ejaculate was all over the toilet seat behind me. I told him he'd made a mess, and he said it would be a nice surprise for the next woman who came in. I was afraid that might be my mother or little sister, so I cleaned it up.