This story involves consensual sexual activity between my wife and another man. If the genre is offensive to you, please look elsewhere for your reading pleasure; if not, please enjoy.
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They had enjoyed each other twice before the ski trip: once in October at our hotel in San Diego when we had traveled south for a continuing legal education seminar I was required to attend and a second time, almost two months later, at a motel near our home in Northern California when he had traveled to a closing that took place near us on behalf of his business. Each said they had delighted in the other's company on those occasions.
This may surprise some of you but I found Brent for her on an internet "cuckolding" site. He seemed like a decent enough guy and I hoped he'd be a more than adequate sexual partner for her to enjoy. He was respectful toward my wife and me, yet understanding of my quandary that, because of a medical mistake, her sexual needs were simply more than I could cope with at the present time. He was obviously happy to help us with the problem as nearly every man was, once he became aware of our situation.
Let me explain because I don't want you to get the wrong impression about my marriage with Annie. I know the term "cuckold" has been given an extremely negative connotation in these days of internet solicitation; our situation wasn't as those are usually represented. My being cuckolded wasn't something my wife or her lover forced upon me; it certainly wasn't in response to an ultimatum from Annie; in a way, it wasn't even her specified desire but we had to recognize that the problem wasn't going away, at least in the short run. It wasn't a situation in which I was degraded or humiliated nor was I uncomfortable with the situation in the least, once I had settled upon what I perceived to be a win-win solution to a medically induced predicament. It was just a way to deal with a real-life problem that had arisen between us and that we needed to resolve.
I still enjoyed sex with my wife, not less than twice a week, but her libido had been supercharged by a physician's mistaken, extended over-dosage of hormones and I simply could not keep up with her increased fleshly needs, yet I wanted her happy and we both expressed our desire to continue in our marriage. I loved my Annie very much. As soon as we realized the foundation of the problem, with the help of a second medical opinion, we scaled back the estrogen and testosterone intake but Annie's new-found carnal energies had persisted until I felt I was in danger of losing both my wife and my marriage.
The Doctor's mistake was even more difficult to deal with than Annie's needs. It had put me in a strange, if not untenable situation. Though I had practiced law for nearly twenty years, if there was a lawsuit that could rectify the effects of the misdiagnosis and treatment, I wasn't sure how I could pursue it. Most of my male readers will understand when I say that I could simply not see myself in the courtroom, making this plea to the ladies and gentlemen of the jury:
"Honest, folks, she just wants sex, sex, sex all the time and I'm simply not man enough to take care of all of her needs. Doctor X, by her obvious error, has placed me in this awful situation and my wife and I should be compensated for that error."
I could anticipate the howls of laughter without having to present the case; I didn't think the argument would fly if presented to a jury nor did I want to expose myself to the obvious ridicule of my fellow lawyers, who would never let me forget that to which I had just testified under oath. No, I didn't think that was a viable approach to my problem as I actually have to practice in our moderately sized town every day. Knowing that my peers always liked to watch my jury presentations for their own benefit and edification, I was certain that I would never hear the end, so I set out in a different direction: As a result, I found myself, instead, trying to find enough sexual partners to satisfy my Annie's bountiful sexual needs without compromising our cherished marriage. While she's not at all judgmental about the desires of others, Annie doesn't appreciate sex with other women so that left me on the hunt for men, sexually active men, who weren't getting enough at home but who also could be trusted with my precious Annie.
I know there are those of you who will read this short remembrance and blanch at the very idea of a husband finding, or even trying to find, lovers to satisfy his wife's needs, but I assure you this seemed the very best approach to me as I tried to cope with a wonderful, yet difficult, problem. I had read a treatise or two advocating cheating as a savior for sexless, failing marriages but that just wasn't our situation. I didn't want Annie to have to cheat, I didn't want the stress on our relationship that I felt would inevitably follow a cheating scenario, and I wanted to continue my more-than-adequate sexual relationship with this beautiful woman, the mother of my children, whom I loved with all of my heart. I found myself looking on the internet for selected lovers for my wife, lovers who could understand our plight and assist us in keeping our marriage viable and healthy. There would be no need to cheat if I could succeed.
In the meantime, while I continued to search, Annie and I had booked a week-long ski trip at a wonderful resort in South Lake Tahoe, Nevada. Both she and I really enjoyed Heavenly Valley where we could literally ski from California to Nevada and back on Ridge Run or take our lives into our hands at the end of a skiing day as we traversed Gun Barrel. There was enough variety at Heavenly to make any skier appreciate the Sierras and all that Tahoe had to offer. Staying at Harrah's Resort made the visit even better as the gambling was exciting and we had a great view of Heavenly, even when we wanted or needed to rest from the rigors of skiing.
It was Monday, the second day of our scheduled trip and we had been out on the ski slopes all day; tonight we speculated that it would be exceedingly cold. We were looking forward to a relaxing evening in our room at Harrah's, sipping wine in front of the fireplace while kneading and/or soaking the aches and pains from stressed joints and bruised muscles that we had accumulated during a long day on the slopes. We are decent, but admittedly only adequately talented, skiers who can find time to ski only two or three times a year so we expect a few falls and some painful stretches while we try to emulate the real skiers we always see at Tahoe.
Early in the day we saw him as we waited for a lift to Pinnacles run; he made his presence known to us by removing his goggles and waving at us as if we should have been looking for him from the outset. Brent was also skiing Heavenly and he wanted us, well, Annie at least, to know he was here. Was it only coincidence when we ran into Brent, several times in line at the lifts, at lunch and, of course, skiing down the mountain? I doubted it but Annie said Brent and she had not made these plans without consulting me; she had, however, mentioned to him that we were coming this week to ski Heavenly. He was with several other people including an attractive woman, who appeared to be about his age, perhaps his wife. Annie said she didn't know them either. Whether by chance or not, it was obvious he and Annie connected each time they saw each other on the slopes and I, at least, could see that they "eye fucked" each other every time he was near.
When I was aware that Annie was going to have an encounter with a lover, especially because I had found all of them to date, I could prepare myself mentally for the discomfort of sharing my paramour; I had not made those preparations for this trip and I wasn't sure I was ready to have my plans interrupted.
I had to know if Annie and he had planned this as a clandestine tryst without my input or if he had simply surprised her, as he had me, by intentionally coming here at the same time we did. I knew I didn't believe in coincidences; that was for sure.
Back at Harrah's in our room, I inquired of Annie, "How did Brent know we were here? Was this a planned get-together or did he surprise you as much as he did me?"
Annie assured me that she and Brent had not planned this together and that she was as suspicious as I was that he had simply decided to make the connection while we were on vacation. If he had brought his family with him, it seemed obvious that that would give him a great cover to see Annie a time or two without having to make excuses to his wife about his absence. Spousal excuses explaining protracted absence was something that had been hard to do for Brent because of his living in Soco while we lived in the north. He had only been able to see my wife when we traveled near San Diego or he traveled near our home on a business trip, as I explained earlier. I knew both would have enjoyed more interaction but I also hoped Annie had not deceived me by not disclosing their plans.
We had last seen Brent when the ski lifts closed. He was having drinks at the aprรจs-ski get together at the bottom of Gun Barrel. An attractive woman who I assumed was his wife was sitting at the table with him. She, of course, had no idea that Annie and her husband had any shared history, yet the three of us, Annie, Brent and I, were very aware of the time he and my wife had spent together. Seeing him with his wife made me feel a bit apprehensive about our nascent activities; it was never our intention to come between anyone and his wife. We just needed to treat Annie's condition and Brent had been available and willing to help.