Vicki's a gorgeous 28 year old beauty with short brunette hair and a smile that is both heartwarming and cock-hardening. It's one of those million dollar smiles that you can get lost in. She's 5'3", about 115lbs, and despite having given birth to our two sons, a drop dead knockout that effortlessly turns every male head between the ages of 15 and 75.
I would describe our sex life as damn near off the charts. Seven years into the marriage and we're still going strong. A lot of effort, on both of our parts, accounts for our sexual success. We talk a lot, share a lot, and have a pact that has done more good for our relationship than either of us could have imagined, sexually, and otherwise.
Once every other month, for several years now, we've arranged some private time. Either the boys spend the night with Vicki's parents so we can have the house to ourselves, or we find a babysitter and go out. That night is for the purpose of telling each other something that we'd probably rather not tell. There are no rules. We can tell each other things we're displeased with about the other, or a very embarrassing thing that may have happened, or (and this has become the norm lately) a sexual fantasy.
Note that I said we tell each other things that we'd probably rather not tell, so when it comes to telling sexual fantasies, they're generally real zingers. They're usually fantasies that expose a side of you that you're not sure you want known. For fear, perhaps, of what the other will think. Or maybe revealing it would make you feel too vulnerable. Generally one of the two. At least for me.
The conversations are somewhat difficult to start, but are always good and have strengthened our bond tremendously. I love Vicki from the bottom of my soul and definitely consider her not only my best friend, but probably the only true friend I have.
Two weeks ago was our last night of confession (our new nickname for the night). Vicki told me that she was considering a new career. She's been unhappy for quite some time as a nurse and needs a change. She's considering going back to school to be an accountant. We talked about how we'd make ends meet without her income while she's in school. She cautiously told me that if I'd been serious in the past when I'd encouraged her to dance, she'd probably give it a shot. I showered her with encouragement on both accounts.
We talked a great deal about her venture & before we knew it our time was almost up. We'd hired a babysitter and had to be home by midnight. It was already after 11:00. Vicki stopped me dead in the middle of a sentence and told me I wasn't getting out of tonight's confession. "We have to be home in 45 minutes - so let's hear yours mister."
I broke eye contact with her instantly. I'd almost decided not to let this one out of the bag.
"Do you want another glass of wine Babe?"
"Hmmmm this one must be really good for you to drag your feet like this. I'm dying to hear - out with it! And sure, one more glass of wine would be good."
I looked around for the waitress. Hesitating again.
"She'll check on us shortly. Now spill it, you're killing me here."
"Well, do you remember that story we read on literotica?"
"Which story? We've read so many."
"Remember the young wife with her husband and his two buddies during the superbowl? The..... well..... gangbang..... sort-of?"
"Uhhhhh..... y - e - s...." she said, clearing her throat and now looking down at her own wine glass........ She grinned nervously.
"I gotta tell you Vicki. I've been fantasizing about it almost constantly since that day. The thought consumes virtually every minute of free thought I have! It just drives me wild!"
"So are you just confessing that it turned you on? I already knew you liked it. We both got pretty warm after reading that one."
"That's not really it Vicki. The confession is that I've arranged a getaway next month at a cabin up on the lake."
"And..... What does that have to do with the story?"
"I've invited 3 of my friends from work to go fishing that same weekend. I've rented two cabins Vicki. Theirs will be right next to ours."
"Oh my G - O - D" was her reply accompanied with a beet red blush and a wide eyed, jaw dropping, deer-in-the-headlights stare.
"Are you telling me that you want something to happen with all of us? Me and them?"
"Oh Yes!"
"You, Me...... and t-h-r-e-e other men!?"
"Yes."
"Rick - you haven't even talked to me about this - you've already invited them!?"
"Well - not really. I would never just spring something like that on you. All I have done so far (other than thinking about it constantly) is written each of them an invitation email. I've just saved them as draft emails. I was going to talk with you first. In fact - if you agreed to this, the thought of you being the one to actually hit the send button turned me on too. I know this is out there Vicki. But it's confession night. That's what these nights are for, right?"
"Well - yes - they are..... but...... wow....."
"Wanna share your gut impression with me?"
"Yeah - you're a bigger pervert than I thought!!!" But she laughed.
"Well - you've known that for a long time!"
It was out there. I was dying to know what she was thinking. She sat there, stunned, trying to digest the idea. But I could tell I hadn't offended her, nor did she react as though it was a disgusting idea. Those were my biggest concerns at that point. I was relieved.
For the remaining few minutes of confession night, neither of us found it easy to look the other in the eye.
"Well - we'd better go so the babysitter can get home."
The first few minutes of the drive were quiet. I couldn't bear it any longer.
"Look, Sweetie, this doesn't have to happen. Just telling you about it served the purpose of confession night. If it never happens, you still know that I want it to. It took me months to build up the courage to tell you that the story we read did more than just give me a temporary hardon. It started me thinking about you with other men. I don't know why the idea appeals to me so much. I've tried to figure it out. It's just there. It's a feeling like I've never had before. It's thrilling, it's dangerous, there's jealousy involved. So many emotions. It's like a drug Vicki. I get high every time I fantasize about it. So if it never happens, that's okay. But now you know. And I'm glad you know."
"Did you really right the emails Rick?"
"Yes."
"I'll read them tomorrow."
Those words left me full of hope and desire. We made love that night. Not just sex - but genuine heart felt love making. That almost always happens after confession night. It's very much like make-up sex after an argument.
Sleeping that night was damn near impossible. My head raced with one erotic thought after another. I liked Vicki's confession about the dancing. She's so smart. An accountant? Never even heard her mention it before. But Vicki's the kind of person that can do anything if she wants it enough. The thought of her supplementing our income as a stripper was an enormous turn on. I'd always meant it when I told her she should dance. Those thoughts coupled with visions of my wife and my three friends consumed me that night.
