Something Happened

"Nothing happened," she said nervously, as she shuffled in the door at 7:30 in the morning. In my experience, whenever somebody says "nothing happened," something happened. This story is about that night 30 years ago when, in fact, something did happen.

Connie and I were in our mid-thirties. I was editor of the local paper. She gave up her newspaper reporting job when we got married, and has never recovered from the disappointment of her dream career lost. We're retired now, and our lively sex life together lives in memory rather than in reality.

Doug, our best friend in the town we had moved to just a few years before, was advertising manager at the paper. One Friday he mentioned that a consultant from the corporate office was coming in to work with him and his ad staff. Doug and this guy had worked together before, and he was going to spend the weekend at Doug's house. Mid-afternoon when I was passing through the ad room Doug introduced me to Bob. We chatted for a few minutes, and Doug said, "We're going out for drinks after work," he said. "Why don't you and Connie join us?"

I called Connie and she lined up a babysitter for our three-year-old daughter. At 7 o'clock we headed out to meet Doug and Bob at a popular dance bar near our home. Connie wore jeans and a nice shirt, I was in slacks and a casual shirt. Neither of us made a special effort to "fix up," because this wasn't that kind of place or occasion.

Connie was, and is, an attractive woman - auburn hair, fair skin, full lips and beautiful blue eyes. After the birth of our daughter she worked out every day to get her figure back. I was running back in those days and was pretty lean. My bald head and glasses probably notched me down on the sex appeal meter, but Connie didn't seem to care. Our friend Doug was blonde haired, athletically built and, like me, a shade under six feet tall. Bob, our out-of-town visitor, was stocky, balding and, to my way of thinking anyway, not particularly handsome. But he had a ready smile, joked easily and often, and as a "road warrior" had learned the art of being charming and making conversation.

We met at the dance bar and found a table that was not quite far enough from the speakers. The loud music made conversation difficult, but we did our best, commenting on the dancers, making a little shop talk, and basically shooting the breeze. Doug, Bob drank beers, Connie had a Seven and 7, and I drank Coke.

I should explain that Connie and I had been going through a rough patch with our relationship - with my drinking as a major source of tension. I didn't get drunk often, but evenings I was rarely completely sober. Connie grew up with an alcoholic mother, left single after Connie's dad died when she was little, and Connie did not like to be around slightly sloshed people all the time. So, in an effort to save our marriage, I went on the wagon, and on this occasion I was being a good boy. Connie didn't drink often, but when she went out she would let her hair down and relax with some cocktails.

As the evening wore on I hit my max on Coke, and as the others were continuing to drink round after round, their conversation became tedious. At one point Bob asked Connie if she wanted to dance, and they got out on the dance floor. Connie was a good dancer, and I was not particularly skillful in that area, so she enjoyed having a chance to do her thing with somebody who knew what he was doing. Doug and I sat and watched and tried to visit over the din of the thumping music.

At about 11 o'clock I punched out. When Bob and Connie came back to the table to have a drink and rest I told Connie we needed to go home and relieve the babysitter. She was having fun, felt like dancing, and decided she would stay with the boys and they could drop her off at home later. Fine with me. I went on home, paid the babysitter, and sat down to watch TV until Connie would be home.

Doug was our best friend in town. He had been through a divorce a few years before and still bore emotional scars from that experience. He spent many an evening and weekend at our house. Doug and I were running buddies, jogging together after work and often running 10k races on Saturdays. Doug and Connie also became close confidantes. Connie offered emotional support and helped to repair Doug's ego after his marriage collapsed - which he regarded as a personal failure. Doug also commiserated with Connie over her problems with our relationship - Connie has told me that without Doug's caring support she probably would have divorced me.

All this is by way of explaining why I felt perfectly comfortable leaving my wife in the company of two guys in a bar - I knew Doug would see that she made it home safely.

So, there I was, watching the Late Show and waiting for Connie. Midnight came, and no Connie. One a.m. came and no Connie. By 2 o'clock I was getting worried. By four o'clock I was half panicked. By six o'clock I was just pissed. No Connie, no phone call (this was long before everybody carried a cell phone) no nothing. This was completely out of character, and I didn't know what to think.

And then at 7:30 a.m. Doug's car pulled into the driveway and Connie got out. She looked like shit. She was clearly hung over, her hair and clothes were unkempt, and in her eyes were fear and embarrassment. "Nothing happened," she kept saying, with her head down as she came through the door.

"Where the hell have you been?" I demanded. "I've been worried sick!"

"When we left the bar we felt like having one more drink, so we went to Doug's," she explained. "We sat around talking, then Doug got tired and went off to bed. Bob and I still had drinks in our glasses, so Bob told him he'd drive me home. Bob and I got to talking, and the next thing I knew Doug came out from his bedroom and saw us. I guess we talked all night. 'Connie, what the hell is going on?' he demanded. 'Come on, I'm taking you home.' So I got up and we went out to his car and he drove me home."

Somehow she never filled in the blanks about what she and Bob 'talked' about all night. Knowing that Bob fancied himself a ladies man, and knowing that Connie can get amorous after a few drinks, I supposed that they may have had a make-out session, which Doug interrupted. She grabbed a Diet Pepsi and went off to take a shower and go to bed. Our little daughter woke up soon after, and I got busy tending to her for the morning. My sense of relief that Connie was alive and not cracked up in a ditch someplace overwhelmed my nagging sense that "something" probably had happened. And considering the shaky status of our relationship at that time, I didn't press the issue.

Until now. After reading a few cuckold stories online, the memory of that night all those years ago came back and reared its ugly head, and I got curious. So, last night as we lay in bed I asked her. "Remember that night you spent at Doug's house with Bob? You never really told me what happened after Doug went to bed and left the two of you alone on his couch. I always suspected that 'nothing happened' wasn't the whole story, and now, all these years later I'd like to hear the details."

Connie thought for a minute. "Are you sure you really want to know?" she asked. I told her I did. She swallowed hard, and asked for a minute to collect her thoughts. Then she began:

"You remember us going out, and then you went home. After you went home, things got interesting on the dance floor. Most of the dances were upbeat, but there were a couple of slow ones, and Bob got a little handsy on me as we swayed to the music. Nothing aggressive or over the line, but handsy nevertheless. I suppose I did too - I put my arms around his neck and rubbed his back. He slid his hands down to my fanny, rubbing a little. We never kissed, but our faces got close and we each enjoyed the feeling of our bodies pressing together. A couple of times I felt his cock pressing against me and I could tell he was 'stimulated.'

"He told me I was beautiful. He told me I was sexy. He told me if he were my husband he never would have left me behind and gone home. In fact, he said, he never would leave me alone at all. It was just a line, and I knew it, but it sounded good and I liked hearing it whispered into my ear. I don't think Doug recognized what was going on - he was sitting back at the table watching my purse and nursing his drink.

"Well, when we got back to the table Doug said, 'I'm tired, and I have some beer and booze at home. Let's quit buying these watered down drinks and go back to my place for a nightcap. We can drop Connie at home on the way.' Bob and I agreed, and we went out to Doug's car. Bob had left his car at Doug's house so we all rode back together. I sat in front with Doug and Bob sat behind me. Once we got out of the parking lot I told Doug, 'I'm not ready to go home yet. I'll stick with you guys.' Doug agreed and said he'd bring me home after that nightcap. Doug didn't notice Bob's hand sneaking over the back of the seat and rubbing my shoulder, or my hand going up and rubbing the back of Bob's hand.

"When we got back to Doug's, Bob and I sat on the couch and Doug turned on the TV to a late night movie - some stupid comedy from the '70s. He fixed us all up with drinks and sat in his recliner. It didn't take long for his eyes to start getting heavy, and that's when he got up and wandered off to bed. He asked Bob to take me home, and he said he would.

"But Bob didn't take me home. He reached for his drink on the coffee table, and as he did his arm brushed against my thigh. When he sat back up he shifted his position so we were closer together, and after he took a drink, he put his arm around my shoulders. My hand went to his thigh, and the closeness we had established on the dance floor seemed to make it seem alright for us to be touching like this. Next thing I knew, his hand was inching down from my shoulder to my breast, and his other hand moved my arm so my hand was resting on his bulge.

"Clearly this was the moment for me to have put a stop to things and demanded that he take me home. Maybe I should even have slapped him, or called out to Doug for help. But I didn't. I liked it. I liked the attention, I liked being appreciated and desired, and the drinks had made me horny. And yeah, you had left me behind in a bar with two guys.

"So I turned my face toward his and I kissed him. Just a little at first, but after a couple of tentative lip touches we got into it and pretty soon we were sucking tongue. His hand went under my shirt and cupped my breast, and I rubbed his cock through his pants. With his free hand he unzipped his pants and I pulled on his cock, which was already getting stiff. It was a little hard to pull it through his fly, so he stopped me and unfastened his pants to make it easier. Once I had his cock in my hand he reached behind me and unfastened my bra. At that point it seemed silly to have my shirt on, so I told him to pull it off over my head, which he did.

"With free access to my boobs, he began to feel me up, gently at first, then a little harder. When he started pinching my nipples I got so turned on that I bent down and took his cock in my mouth. I'm sorry, I know I haven't done that for you since we were newlyweds," she interjected, "but it just came over me that this was something I should do. I started giving him the best blowjob I know how to do, and he lay back on the couch enjoying it. I licked his cock up and down, and with my tongue worked on the purple helmet for a long time. Then I started working on him up and down, in and out. After a couple of minutes I could tell that he was getting close. I never wanted cum in my mouth, so I pulled off and started to sit back up. 'Wait,' Bob said, and pulled his pants down the rest of the way and kicked them off. 'Take your pants off too,' he told me.

"So here he was with his pants on the floor, and I will my shirt off and my tits hanging out, messing around on our trusted friend Doug's couch, and I thought, 'what the hell am I doing here? Do I really want this to go any further? Do I really want to betray Patrick and do this?' I hesitated, and finally decided, 'WTF, who cares? I'm going for it.' I slipped out of my jeans and Bob reached over and pulled down my panties. I was stark naked in front of a man not my husband for the first time in years. Bob reached down and rubbed my mound, then slipped his finger into my pussy. It was plenty wet from the foreplay, and he had no trouble slipping one, then two fingers into my vagina. With his ring finger he rubbed my clit. Now I was the one lying back on the couch and getting serviced. I stretched out my hand and grabbed his cock again, and began to rub it.

"All of a sudden, Bob moved his body, swung around with his legs, and got into a position for 69. He had his mouth on my pussy and I took his cock into my mouth. He licked and sucked and I licked and sucked, and we both climbed the mountain of pleasure with guiltless abandon. Shit, Bob was divorced, so he had nothing to feel guilty about except violating another man's wife - which I knew from Doug he had done before. I should have felt guilty, but in that moment, in the heat of passion, all I felt was Bob's tongue in my hole and on my clit. Oh, and Bob's cock pushing into my mouth. You know I'm no cocksucking expert, but Bob really knew how to eat pussy. He brought me to places I had never been. I had never deep throated before, but this whole business was so wrong and so nasty that the nasty girl in me came out and I took him all the way down to his balls. When I began to gag he pulled back, and my tongue got busy on the head and shaft of his male member. With my hands I cupped his balls and gently stroked his ball sack. A finger from my other hand found its way to his butt hole and I rubbed around there a little.

"Just then a wave of ecstasy swept over me and I began to cum with quivering thrill. I thrashed and moaned and my hair stood on end. Then Bob came in my mouth. I have never taken your cum in my mouth, Patrick, but this time I didn't care. He shot his load in my mouth and I swallowed it. It didn't taste as bad as I expected. Then I licked some more as another orgasmic wave swept over me.

"Bob was very thoughtful. As we disentangled, he got up and went into the bathroom to get me a warm wet washcloth to clean up my face. Then he took it and wiped my pussy juice off his, chin.

"'Wow,' he said.

"'Wow,' I said.

"We looked at each other, with me trying to decide if I had really wrecked my life or what. He bent down and kissed me. 'That was wonderful,' he said. 'You are a wonderful lover. Patrick is an idiot if he isn't doing this with you every day.' I didn't tell him that I would not let you cum in my mouth. I had given him my body, but I wasn't going to give him the chance to one-up you.

"Then I noticed that Bob wasn't done yet. His cock was coming back to life. With that, I shifted position on the couch, lay back, grabbed his cock and pulled it toward my yearning pussy. 'You're going to have to fuck me,' I said. He moved over me, and I guided his cock into my pussy. That's right, my love, he didn't force himself on me - I put him in me.

"We fucked for a long time. His cock wasn't anything remarkable - no bigger than yours. But it was a different cock, and it felt different inside me. It was thrilling to feel another cock inside me. He started with slow, easy strokes, then sped up as we built intensity. 'God you are a great lover,' he said, pumping and pumping. 'You better not cum before I do,' I moaned at him.

"He didn't. We came together. My entire body was wracked with pleasure, every nerve ending electrified, every inch of my skin tingling. He shot his cum into my body and I took it without shame and without hesitation. For that moment I was his and he claimed me entirely.

"But it was only for a moment. As his cock shriveled and he pulled out of me, I collapsed. The combination of the alcohol and the passionate sex left me completely drained. I fell asleep in his arms. I guess he fell asleep in mine, too.

The next thing I knew Doug was standing over us bellowing, 'Connie, what the hell goes on here? Get dressed, I'm taking you home. Bob, get the hell out of my house. I want you gone when I get back.'

"I was shaking as I pulled on my clothes, Doug was standing there as angry as if I had betrayed his friendship as well as my marriage vows. We were quiet as he drove me home. I was terrified of what would happen, of what he would say to you, of what you would do. Finally he asked, 'Connie, is this the only time this kind of thing has happened?' I told him it was the first and would be the last time. 'Then we won't speak of it. I'm not coming in with you. You tell Patrick whatever you want, but I will never say a word. I'm only sorry I let it happen. I should have taken you straight home after we left the bar. I'm sorry.'

"You know the rest. When I told you that nothing had happened, I meant it. Nothing happened that changed the way I feel about you, or that changed me, really. It was just drunken sex. I enjoyed it, I and don't really regret it. I assure you I intended that nothing like that would happen again. I was sorry I caused you such worry when I was having fun, but you were so sweet and trusting that I loved you more than ever.

With that she bent down, slipped her head under the covers, found my cock (which was hard after hearing her story) and put her lips around it. She gave me the most luxurious blowjob I have ever had. And when I came, she took it in her mouth and swallowed. I went to sleep in her arms. "Maybe my sex life isn't over after all. I am going to have to work on my pussy eating technique," I thought to myself.

Author's note: I wrote this story for fun, from my imagination, based on an actual event. The evening I described really happened just as I told it, but I never asked my wife about it and I totally made up the part about the sex. When the story was finished I showed it to my her, expecting her to get a kick out of the scenes I imagined. Instead, she went pale as she read it. With a quavering voice she said, "Yeah, that's just about what happened. Except he was eating me again when Doug came out and broke things up. I had to finish myself off in the shower after I got home."