Sharing Kim

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Dear Reader, This is the story of a husband who wants to share his wife with his best friend . . . or does he? And what does the wife think about it? Enjoy. E.Z.

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Kim and I had discussed almost everything since we started dating. We hadn't discussed Dave yet. Dave was my best friend, my very best friend. He always had been; he always would be.

I expected Kim to be faithful to me. Except for Dave. I expected her to fuck Dave anytime he asked. I don't mean lie there. I mean happily and enthusiastically fuck his eyes out.

That wouldn't be easy for Kim, but it was very important to me. Now that we'd agreed to marry, we had to discuss it. Fortunately, she brought up fidelity as we sat facing each other on the couch. Our knees were touching. Her hand stroked mine as they lay on the couch back.

"I want to talk about something very important to me, Jason. We've discussed it before, but I want to talk about it again," she said softly. Her tone instantly put me on alert.

"What's that, baby?" I asked innocently.

"Fidelity."

"It's very important to me, too," I answered.

"Good. I know you're much more sexually experienced then I am."

She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something. I didn't utter a peep. Her brow wrinkled.

"I want to know you'll be faithful to me." She leaned forward when she said know". The word was drawn out.

"I've said I'd be faithful, and I will."

"I know, but the way you said it made me wonder. I don't think you'd lie, but it's important."

"Yes, it's very important. I won't live with you fucking around."

Her hand pulled back. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes flared.

"Me? You don't have to worry about me. I haven't screwed half the women in town. I mean half the men. You know what I mean."

"You weren't a virgin when we met."

"You're my third man. My first was in college. He got me drunk, so drunk I don't remember it. Chet was the second. He doesn't count."

"Why doesn't he?"

"Oh for Pete's sake, Jason. Don't change the subject."

"I'm not changing the subject. Even if Chet doesn't count, people change. You might be tempted to play around."

"Never! How could you suggest that?"

"Will you be faithful, Kim?"

She looked me square in the eye. Her face was a picture of sincerity.

"Of course I'll be faithful. Will you?"

"Yes. I'll be faithful to you."

Head on my shoulder, arms around me, she pressed into me. Her scent filled my nose.

"You don't know how happy that makes me," she whispered in my ear.

"I'd like to define faithful."

Her body became rigid. Slowly, she pushed back to look me in the eye.

"I know the meaning," she said flatly.

"This time it has a special meaning. A meaning that applies just to us."

She slid away from me and smoothed her skirt. She searched for and removed imaginary lint to give herself time to think.

"What does it mean?"

"Look at me, Kim."

Her expression was somewhere between panic and anger.

"Well, what does it mean?" Her tone was even; her vocal cords tight as a kite string.

"It means I won't have sex with any other women except Dave's women."

She looked me right in the eye. She was red faced. I tried to appear relaxed, but my stomach was doing cartwheels.

"Dave? Dave? Oh, your friend. The one you're always talking about, but I've never met because he lives in Russia."

"Yes. That Dave."

"You're going to have sex with his . . . what did you say? His women?"

"Yes."

She was redder when she spoke, but their was a cockiness in her voice.

"Well, what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. I'll have sex with Dave."

"Yes, you will. I insist on it."

She looked confused and her hands trembled. She fought to regain her equilibrium.

"Insist on it? You're going to insist I let your friend have sex with me? Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad, Kim. I want you to fuck him until he can't walk, not just let him have sex with you."

She gasped for breath and her hands clenched. When she responded, the lid came off the pressure cooker.

"You may not be mad, but I am. I'm very mad. As in angry. As in pissed off! Really pissed off! I'll decide later if we're still engaged. I'm leaving!"

She jumped to her feet and stormed toward the door.

"Wait, Kim."

She spun to glare at me. Her hands were by her sides, fists clenched in little balls.

"What could you possibly say that would keep me from leaving?"

"This is your apartment," I replied with a grin.

Unfortunately, that made her angrier.

"Get out!" she screamed, pointing toward the door.

As I walked by, I reached for her. She backed up, her arms crossed under her breasts. I took her in my arms. It took a few minutes, but finally she put her arms around me and lay her head on my chest. She responded when I kissed her, but she gave me a dirty look.

"We're still engaged. I want to marry you, Kim. Call me when you're ready to talk."

"Just get out," she replied. Her tone was low and she looked away from me.

At home, I fell into bed. Sleep was sporadic and light. It was three A.M. when the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Kim stood there looking forlorn. Her eyes were puffy and red, the lids swollen from crying. She fell into my arms.

"Oh, Jason," she whimpered. "Just hold me."

We sat on the couch, holding each other. The crying tapered off, the tension eased.

"I don't understand what you said," she said.

"Dave's my friend. I want you to have sex with him."

"I'm not a whore, Jason."

"Dave's not going to pay you."

"I'm not a slut either."

"I don't want you to be a slut. I want you as you are: loving, fun, ladylike, and very faithful, except I define faithful as having sex with me and with Dave."

"I don't understand. My head aches. Can we go to bed and talk about this in the morning?"

I thought she would be up all night asking questions, but she was exhausted. After two aspirin and a double shot of vodka, she curled up in the crook of my arm and slept like a log. I wish I'd slept as well. When I awakened in the morning, she was on her side sleeping peacefully.

I love Kim. She's smart, sweet and loving. She'll be an excellent mother. She has a beautiful face, a delightful body. Sexually, we fit together like hand in glove. She's conservative in public. She dresses demurely, acts ladylike, and is above reproach. In private, she's a wild woman. No inhibitions. No reserve. She wasn't always that way. She's perfect for me. Most importantly, she loves me with all her heart.

Many women have wanted to marry me, but I've only proposed to one. Kim. She's the one I want to marry.

I'd been reading and sipping coffee for about twenty minutes when she came out of the bedroom naked, which she always is when we're alone. She walked sensually toward me, leaned over to kiss me and murmured, "Let's go back to bed." I followed the sway of her wonderful ass back into the bedroom.

"Come fuck me, baby. Fuck me hard," she whispered as she opened her legs wantonly. She was hot and squirming, sweating and needy as we spent the morning in my bed. I feared she'd hold back because of the Dave issue. She didn't. She was the same sexy, delightful Kim.

Dave wasn't mentioned again until Sunday night. Kim cooked a wonderful dinner. We finished eating, did the dishes and poured some wine. After we sat on her couch, she reopened the subject.

"Tell me about Dave."

"What do you want to know?" I was excited she asked, but tried not to show it.

"I'm trying to understand why the man I love, the man I want to marry, would insist I have sex with a friend of his I've never met."

"We're best friends. We've been best friends since the second grade."

"I have a best friend, too. Elizabeth. She'll be my maid of honor. I haven't suggested you have sex with her."

I grinned.

"I'm not going to suggest it either," she snapped.

"I didn't expect you to."

"You didn't answer me."

"Dave and I are different, I guess."

"I guess you are," she replied. She looked away, seeing something I couldn't see. I waited patiently.

"Have you shared other women with Dave?" she asked.

"Yes. Most of them."

"Like who?"

"What do you mean?"

"Jason, give me an example."

"The first was Susy Simpson," I said. "We were in the ninth grade, both fifteen. Susy was seventeen. I was a virgin then. When Dave told me he was fucking her, I was jealous. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes. I've never asked you about other women. I'm curious. Go on."

"Anyway, Susy was a wet dream: senior cheerleader, big breasts, all that. Dave was the up and coming football star. One night at his house, Dave had me hide in his closet. I watched as he fucked her. Then I fucked her, too."

"Poor Susy. I bet she was mortified."

"Susy? Mortified? No way. Susy loved it. When she got hot, she was long and slow to cool down. She fucked Dave again, then I went back for a second time."

"She sounds like a slut."

"She definitely is."

"Is that what you want me to be?"

"No, Kim, I don't. I've told you this, but let me tell you again so there'll be no mistake. I want you to be faithful. If you're unfaithful, I'll divorce you."

Her eyes burned into me.

"But. But! There's a big, unsaid 'but' there! But - you define faithful as having sex with you and with Dave. Is that right?"

"Yes. With me and with Dave."

"You and Dave only or are there others?"

"No others. Just me and Dave."

"What about Dave's wife? What does she think of this?"

"She's all for it. Emily's a sexy woman."

"You've had sex with her?"

"Yes. Many times. Dave fucked her on their first date. He shared her on their third."

"On their first date? Isn't that . . . loose?"

"You told me you would've fucked me on the first date if I'd asked. Remember?"

She looked guilty as charged and gave me a shy little smile.

"Is she better in bed then I am?" she asked quietly.

"Of course not. You're the best ever. You're very special, Kim."

"Special? So special you want to share me?"

"So special I want to marry you. No one's ever been that special to me."

"Marry me and share me with Dave? It doesn't make sense."

"It makes perfect sense to me. Dave and I have always shared our women."

"Shared our women? What are we - power tools?"

"You power my tool," I replied with a grin.

A sexy grin flashed across her face before she returned to inquisitive mode, with a steely quietness.

"Have there been 'special' women who said 'no', Jason?"

"You're the only special woman I've ever known, Kim."

"I'm glad to hear that, but let me ask the question another way. Have any women told you 'no' when you wanted them to sleep with Dave?"

"Yes." She looked exasperated by my answer.

"Well, what happened?"

"We broke up."

"If I say 'no', you'll break up with me? Is that it? Sleeping with Dave is a condition of our marriage?"

"Wait a minute! I never proposed to any of those other women. I never proposed to anyone but you."

I was shaking, fearing she might ask the question I suddenly realized I didn't want to answer: the question I didn't know if I could answer. Will you break up with me? Would I? It was easy with the others. Yes. I broke up with them. But with Kim? Would I break up with her? Did sharing her with Dave mean that much to me? What about her? Would she break up with me if I insisted she fuck Dave?

She went into the kitchen, returned with the wine bottle and refilled our glasses. She took a deep breath and sat down again.

"Well then. Dave shares Emily with you and you get his . . . did you say 'women'?"

"Yes. Dave and Emily usually have another woman living with them."

"Why?"

"It gives Dave two, and Dave and Emily share the other woman. She's bisexual."

"Bisexual! You want me to have sex with Emily?"

"No."

"Oh, good."

"You can if you like. It's up to you."

"I'm glad something's up to me," she snapped.

Her mind was whirring. She had a cockiness in her voice when she spoke again, as if she thought she had found the lever to rip away my insistence about Dave.

"What if I want to see you and Dave have sex?"

"All right. So you can experience watching it." Her mouth hung open. "Emily wants to see that, too."

"You've had sex with Dave?" she gasped.

"When we were kids experimenting. That was the only time. It was a turnoff for both of us."

"Good God," she muttered. She went to the bathroom. When she returned, she'd changed into a bathrobe. She said, "Let's watch a movie. How about 'Sleepless in Seattle'?"

"That's fine with me," I answered.

She put on the movie and curled up next to me. We've started 'Sleepless' a dozen times. We've finished it once. The credits were on when I kissed her. I don't remember the movie after that. We made love on the couch.

We didn't discuss Dave for the next couple of weeks. I brought the subject up again the night she wanted final approval of the wedding invitations.

"Before we send these out, we need to finish our discussion about Dave," I said.

Kim had that sure, complacent expression women get when they think they're right. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"Oh, Jason. I know that was a test to see if I might be unfaithful. I know you didn't really want me to agree."

"You're wrong, Kim. I want you to agree. You'll fuck Dave."

"No, I won't, Jason. I won't have sex with Dave."

"Yes you will," I replied evenly.

"And if I don't?" she said, her arms crossed, her eyes ablaze. "Will you leave me?"

She tried to look cock sure, but fear was obvious in her eyes. She'd asked "the" question. Would I leave her? I'd thought long and hard about it since the last time we talked.

"No, Kim. I won't leave you."

Tension fell away and a tear appeared in the corner of her eye. She looked reassured and pleased. I held her hand and waited. A smug smile crossed her face and she pulled her hand away.

"Well then, there's not a lot you can do about it if I don't."

"Yes, I can. I'll make you have sex with him."

"What? How could you?"

"I'll tie you to the bed."

"You wouldn't."

"I would."

"I'll fight you."

"I'm stronger."

"I'll lock my legs together!"

"I'll hold them open for him."

"I'm sure Dave's much more of a gentleman than you are. He wouldn't take me when he saw I didn't want it."

"Dave's no gentleman. When he saw that delicious body of yours naked and tied to a bed, he'd fuck you until you couldn't walk. But - if he stopped, I'd guide his cock to your pussy and shove on his ass until he was buried in you."

"You don't mean it! Do you?"

"What do you think?"

What did she think? Hell! What did I think? I'd told other woman they'd fuck Dave. All but a few did. The ones that did loved it. But . . . but why was I confused? Words and emotions at an impasse, we stared at each other. I broke the silence. I had to. It was eating me up.

"Shall we finalize the invitations?"

"Of course," she replied.

Kim and I married in a medium size ceremony in her hometown. We hadn't discussed Dave again. When we opened the beautiful wedding present he and Emily sent, there had been thirty seconds of questioning stares, but no discussion. Our marriage exceeded my dreams. Kim was a wonderful wife. Our life together, including sex, kept getting better and better.

Six months after we married, Dave e-mailed me. His annual vacation was coming up. He suggested we get together for a week in Jamaica. I decided the direct approach was the best way to broach it with Kim.

"How about a week in Jamaica?"

"Jamaica? That sounds great," she replied. "What's the occasion?"

"Dave and Emily are coming from Russia. We'll vacation together."

She froze. When she finally moved, she sat down and took my hand in hers.

"Do you still want me to have sex with Dave?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Why did I? Why? What was there about it? What is it about sharing your wife with another man?

I'd made videos of Kim and me fucking, so it wasn't that. Or was it? Videos aren't real life. They're not three dimensional with the sounds and heat and nuances of real sex.

With Susy, it was adolescent horniness and experimentation. With Sandy, Susy's little sister, it was bonding by taking a virgin together. Don't feel sorry for her. It was her idea we do it. With Mary Elizabeth, it was retaliation when she tried to come between us. Most of the others were just good fun and we often had sex with them two on one. Emily was different. Her love of sex was as great as ours, maybe greater, and she was a true bisexual, enjoying both sexes equally.

Was it some deep, biological need: male bonding, primate troop, alpha male and all that? I didn't consider Dave my alpha. We were equals. Was it a sharing from the caveman days? Allocation of valuable, but limited resources?

Or was it part of the man to women relationship? Like maybe a control issue? Me Tarzan, you Jane. You fuck him 'cause I say so. You fuck no one else 'cause I say that, too.

What in holy hell was it?

"I don't know, but I do."

"I don't want to have sex with Dave," she said.

Curious? For the first time, she said "I don't want to" rather than "I won't."

"But will you?"

"I don't want anyone but you, Jason. I'm your wife. I love you."

The next two months flew as we prepared for vacation. Kim dieted and enrolled in an aerobics glass. I thought her body was perfect, but, like most women, she wanted it to be better. I'll admit her dedication did have wonderful results. Kim didn't seem apprehensive. She appeared excited about the vacation, but we didn't discuss Dave.

Vacation day arrived. The flight was electric. After clearing customs in Kingston, a cab drove us to the beach house we rented. The house door flew open. Dave and Emily came out.

Kim sized them up as she waited for me to hug them and make introductions. I'm five eleven, one hundred and seventy-five pounds. Kim's five four. Dave's six three with wide shoulders and a big, happy grin. Emily's my height, but all woman on an Amazon scale.

The ladies graciously murmured hellos and politely touched cheeks. When I introduced Dave, he reached for her, probably planning to wrap her in a bear hug and give her a healthy kiss. Kim stepped back, hands in front of her. He grinned and kissed the back of her hand. They led us to the private deck on the beach side for drinks and catching up on each other's lives.

We'd been outside about ten minutes when the door to the house opened. Kim gasped when she turned around to see. I gasped, too, when I looked. A woman was walking toward us. She was about five feet tall, blonde hair cut in a pixie style, big brown eyes and lips of medium thickness. She looked like a gymnast, with strong arms and legs and a six pack stomach, except her breasts were larger than most gymnasts I'd seen.

It was easy to evaluate her physically. She was naked. With the grace of an athlete and the poise of a woman who likes people watching her, she walked to Dave.

"Let me introduce Svetlana. Lana for short. She lives with Emily and me."

Lana extended her hand to shake. Kim acted like Lana's handshake was a hot potato. Lana's eyes twinkled as she curled up in Dave's lap like a kitten. She was silent as we talked, but those big eyes took in everything. I wondered how much English she understood. Kim hadn't looked at her; I couldn't take my eyes off her. The intensity of her expression drew me as much as her delightful nakedness. Dave'd said she was eighteen, only four years younger than Kim and seven years younger than the rest of us.