The Bitch Is Cheating On Us

Something a bit different

..................................................

"What did you just say?"

I looked over at my wife, shocked. She'd just told me she intended to go to the Bahamas for a three day weekend with another man.

"Please, Mike. It doesn't mean anything, just a little fun."

"Not no, but hell no. This isn't what we agreed on, not at all. You better rethink your position. This is a deal breaker. Fuck, it's a marriage breaker. Does the group know about this?"

"I need to leave now, I think I'll take a bike ride."

"You need to think while I'm gone, seriously. This whole thing's gotten out of hand."

I walked out over her protests, hopped on my chopped out Sportster, and smoked the tire leaving. I ended up at a bar and grill thirty miles away.

It was one of my favorite places, had been around as long as I could remember. It was a popular spot, people from all walks of life would be there, mostly for the grill. They had the best cheeseburgers in town, hells bells, maybe in the whole universe. And you could feel safe there no matter who you were. The first sign of trouble and Bossman[the owner, an old biker] walked you outside with another bartender, and tapped you a couple of times with the bat he kept behind the bar, just to get your attention. Then he would explain in detail how much he hated anything that would cause his customers any unpleasant memories of his establishment. You were then sent home and told not to come back for a month. If you caused another scene, you were barred for life. After he beat the shit out of you.

For a place that served alcohol, had pool tables and an overabundance of bikers and rednecks, you never saw a more polite group of people. It wasn't the least bit unusual to see a guy in a suit playing pool with a biker, cussing each other on a first name basis, grinning the whole time.

I had just taken my first bite of burger, admiring the way the grease dripped delicately into the plate, when I heard my name called.

"'Sup, dude." said Garth, trying his best to look like a biker and failing miserably. I think he was born in a tie. And he was scared to death of motorcycles.

His wife Abby could definitely pull off the biker babe look. Blonde, nice rack, wearing a Harley shirt tied under her boobs, no bra, cut offs that almost showed cheek, and cowboy boots. I'd have bet my bike she wasn't wearing panties.

I took her on her first bike ride, and she was instantly hooked. She nagged Garth until he agreed to let her take driving lessons, if they were from me. I taught her how to ride on a 125 dirt bike, moving her up to small street bikes until she was ready. It took me awhile to find the perfect bike for her, a small Honda Rebel. Garth drove the support truck when our group rode.

They piled into the booth with me. Her nipples were standing straight out. We were in the back, so I reached over and pinched one.

"Glad to see me, Abbs?"

She giggled while Garth grinned. She tapped my arm.

"Behave! I'm still sore from last night. You live on Viagra or something?"

"No, just blessed with a good sex drive. And while you were screaming a lot last night, I don't recall it being 'stop' once." I grinned, remembering.

I'd spent a pleasant two hours with them last night. She loved being double teamed, and we let her fuck us to exhaustion last night. They were probably the best friends I had in our little group, maybe the best friends I had period.

They got their burgers and we talked a little. Abby could tell I was a little down, and in her usual forthright manner, asked what was bothering me.

"I think she's cheating on me."

Both mouths flew open.

"Belle? No way. What makes you think so?"

So I sat and told them. About her desire to go on vacation with someone else. About some of the things she had been doing lately. Their faces grew long, and Abby got pissed.

"Not cool. Not cool at all. I might have to call a meeting. This is a game changer."

I put my hand over hers.

"If it comes to that. But before you do, let me try to deal with it, okay? Maybe I can get through to her."

Garth spoke up.

"He's right babe. Best if he can handle it before it gets out of hand or back to the group. Luck, dude."

Abby hugged me as we stood up to leave, groping me and giggling, before pulling back and getting serious.

"You need us, call. Any of us. Understand?"

I nodded, kissed her cheek, hugged Garth, and we left.

He had met her there, she had ridden her bike.

She rode with me almost all the way home, both honking their horns when they turned towards home.

She wasn't there when I got home, just a note.

"It doesn't mean anything. I wish you wouldn't be such an asshole about it. I'm spending the night somewhere else, to let you cool down. Not with a man. I love you."

I got another beer, sat in the dark, and thought about how we got here.

.................................................

She was twenty three, I was twenty five when we met. It was at a party a friend threw. She had just moved to town, was there with a cousin. There was an instant attraction.

She was attractive, in a tomboy kind of way. Tall, lean, fit, a redhead with a killer smile. She had been a jock in college, had gone on a volleyball scholarship, and had kept herself toned, working at a gym as a personal trainer, using her degree to design and implement routines for rich men and bored housewives. She was very successful.

I was in pretty good shape. I ran, and did a lot of hiking, and a bit of rock climbing. I was two inches taller. When she took the urge to wear her five inch 'you're so gonna get fucked tonight' heels, she actually looked down at me.

I had a good job, made really decent money. I was a factory certified Harley Davidson mechanic. It was a lot more complicated than it used to be because of the electronics involved. I was the senior mechanic at the local dealership, or rather, I was when I met her. Now I owned my own shop. My old place actually farmed out work to me when they were overloaded.

I now had three guys working for me. I even sold used bikes, on consignment, and sometimes I'd find a deal, tweak it until I got it in perfect shape, and resell it. I could work seventy hours a week if I wanted. I would never get rich, but I made a decent living.

We bought a nice three bedroom house. I thought it was a little large for us. I'd had an accident while racing dirt bikes when I was fifteen that left me sterile. The equipment still worked fine, I just shot blanks. I had a vague notion of adopting somewhere down the road, but she made it clear she didn't want kids, so I dropped it.

We were good together sexually, because we both loved to fuck. Four times a week or better, and multiple sessions during the weekend. She was a bit of an exhibitionist, and we often vacationed at topless beaches. I can shut my eyes and see her lying on a blanket in a tiny thong, her firm 34a breasts glistening with suntan oil, her nipples standing tall from the attention I had just given them.

We had an extensive collection of toys, including bondage gear. She loved being tied down, a dildo up her ass, vibrator with clit massager shoved deep in her pussy, while I fucked her face. She wasn't happy unless I made her gag. When I had come, usually all over her face or tits, I'd walk off and leave her writhing on the bed until it dried. She kept after me to let her use the strap on she had bought, but I flat refused. It was one of the reasons I wouldn't let her restrain me.

We were happy with each other for four years, completely faithful, when she came home bubbling one day.

"Guess what? The lady I'm training right now is a swinger! She told me she wanted to get in better shape to keep up with the younger girls in her group. Isn't that wild?"

I had never thought about it one way or the other. I'd had threesomes when I'd been single, MMF and FFM, even been involved in a gangbang or two. We had never talked about our sexual past, but I got the impression she was the female equivalent of me.

She was in hyperdrive sexually for the next two weeks, fucking me until I was actually sore. I'd go to sleep with her still grinding away on her toys, actually glad she had them.

She skirted the issue, asking questions, giving hints, gauging my reaction. I could see her mind working, and wasn't really surprised when she came home with an invitation to dinner with her new client and her husband. Curiosity got the better of me.

Gail and Tom were both in their early forties. He held a position in the corporate offices of a national insurance firm, and judging by their house and cars, it paid well. She was a homemaker, by mutual decision. Their youngest had just left the nest.

They were an attractive couple. He was pretty fit for an office man, told me they had a small gym at work, and he spent his lunch hour there three times a week. Gail showed me a picture before she had started working with Belle, and I complimented

on her progress.

She grinned, hefted her 40D rack, displayed in her low cut dress, and grinned.

"It's the only time in my life I've ever considered these a drawback. I have to wear an industrial strength sports bra or I'd knock my self off balance on a regular basis."

We laughed, relaxed a bit more. They were a fun couple. It was a good dinner. We drank a bottle of wine, taking the last glass into the living room. I decided to take the bull by the horns.

"Belle told me about your lifestyle. I've got a feeling that's what this evening is about. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

They all seemed a little shocked, especially Belle.

Tom smiled. "Not at all. I appreciate your directness. Ask anything you like."

"How long have you been doing this? How does it work? Are you both happy with it?"

Gail took the first set of questions.

"Six years now. It works because we're extremely careful, associate with people we can trust, and always put each other first. We don't do it often, usually once a month. And yes, we're happy. It's not something we need, if either one of us say stop, we'd never do it again. It's actually helped us. We were just plain bored with each other, and were starting to grow apart. I really think we'd be divorced now if it hadn't been for this. We have confidence in our own sexuality, and knowing that we're attractive to other people as well as each other."

She stopped to smile.

"And we've learned a few tricks, experiencing things we never thought we would."

Belle asked a few questions.

"How do you do it? How often? How do go about finding your group? Is it dangerous?"

"We usually get together as a group every month to six weeks. Members sometimes socialize between meetings, usually as a foursome, and it often doesn't even include sex. We're all friends, and that's important. The least bit of friction can tear a group apart. And yes, it can be dangerous. That's why we're very selective. There's never over ten couples in our group, usually six or eight. You have to be married, and you have to submit a health report before we let you in. And we all get retested every three months, mandatory.

We interview the couple at least three times, just to make sure both are fully on board. If we sense any hesitance, you don't get in. We vote after the interviews, and if one single person says no, that's it. You don't get a second chance."

Tom chimed in.

"And we have to make sure you're discreet. Some of us are in the public eye. This could destroy careers or have a negative financial impact."

"Basically what we're saying is we have to be sure we trust you. We had one couple almost out us when they divorced, it took a lot of convincing to stop it. Luckily, one of our couples are both lawyers, and they handled the case free to avoid a nasty situation. And of course, they were out of the group."

We talked a little more, casually flirted, hugged and shook when we left. I think I would have enjoyed their company just as much without the swinging aspect.

................................................

We seriously discussed it for another month. I had a lot more reservations than she did. We finally agreed to give it a one time try, and if either one of us wasn't satisfied with the experience, it stopped.

"I need to get some guarantees from you. It's just friendship, and sex. It can NEVER be anything else. No romantic dinners with others, no building relationships, no slipping off for encounters, nothing above what we committed to. Understand? We'll share our bodies, but never our love."

"You're absolutely right, honey. We'll play, nothing more."

I thought she was a little more enthused about it than I was. She nearly fucked me to death before we got accepted into the group.

We got tested, met the whole group for dinner. There was six couples at the time we joined. One couple was in their early twenties, most were our age or a little older, and one couple were in their early fifties. Most were attractive and in pretty decent shape.

Gail made it clear before we met them that if we were accepted, it didn't mean they expected us to have sex with all of them.

"It's entirely up to the individual, and if you turn down an invitation or if you're turned down, that's it. Sometimes when you do agree, you just won't click, and it'll be a one time thing. Understand? No one is forced, unless it's a prearranged fantasy."

These people knew what they were doing. We met with them twice more, and they decided to give us a trial run.

"It'll be only one couple the first time, in this case Gail and Tom, because they found you and you seem comfortable with them. And you shouldn't watch each other until you're comfortable with the idea. It's one thing to say you're cool with it, but another thing completely to witness it. Some couples never go past the first encounter. Think it over one more time, and then if you're ready, set it up."

The speaker was Susan, the oldest woman in the group. She and her husband were the lawyers. They were the leaders of the group, actually helped start it.

She was really attractive, with long silver hair that hung almost to her waist, and a tight body, for her age. She'd started training with Belle after seeing what she did for Gail. I'd always had an older woman fantasy. If this went well, I'd really be interested in getting together later.

..................................................

Finally, the night arrived. We were as nervous as teenagers on a first date. Belle asked me what she should wear.

"Something easy to get off," I said, grinning.

She settled on a black halter dress, knee length, no bra, thigh highs, and a tiny tearaway thong.

She looked great.

I discarded my trademark jeans for a nice pair of slacks, button up shirt, and sports jacket.

Just before we showered, we shaved each other. Both of us preferred it, neither of us liked pubic hair in our teeth.

Gail had on a nice dress, cut so low her nipples threatened to fall out with every breath. Tom was dressed similarly to me.

"I don't usually wear something this daring, but I've always wanted to, and I knew we weren't going out."

I kissed her cheek.

"Oh no you don't! We're going dancing. You're riding with me."

We dragged her out, giggling and protesting, and off we went. We had an interesting conversation in the car. She held my hand almost the whole way.

"Are you really sure?" She asked softly, reaching up to stroke my cheek. I grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Yes, we've talked it to death, and we're sure. I want to thank you for being my first. I'll try not to disappoint."

She giggled, stroking the front of my pants.

"Oh, I think you'll do just fine."

We met in the parking lot. Belle looked flushed, and was adjusting her dress. Tom started for Gail and I stopped him.

"This is MY date. You need to keep your hands to yourself. If you're really nice, I might let you dance with her."

They looked at each other and burst out laughing.

We drank, lightly, dancing all the slow songs, and a few of the fast ones. Gail was a good dancer, but I think she was afraid of a wardrobe malfunction, so was careful how she moved.

I nuzzled her neck while we danced, and she slipped a hand between us, groping me. I'd been hard most of the evening. We were sitting out a fast song, watching Tom and Belle dance. I slid my hand up her leg, and she flinched.

"Relax. Nobody can see us."

She gave token resistance, and soon I had slid past her thigh highs and reached the edge of her panties. I stroked the front a few times, feeling the wetness. I worked two fingers under the edge, and they slid right in. She was soaking. I found her clit, stroking it slowly. Thirty seconds and she was wiggling slightly, her mouth parted in an O. She was getting close, I started going faster, when the song ended. I slid back down her leg, rubbing the wetness on her thigh, before raising them to my nose and sniffing.

"You smell great," I said, holding a finger under her nose, "I bet you taste better."

"Bastard!" she said in a mocking voice as she grabbed my erection, "I'm going to drain you until you're squirting air."

A little while later, I saw something black hanging slightly out of Tom's pocket. He'd discovered her tearaway thong. The sexual tension was so high we couldn't even make conversation.

"Time to go!" I said, standing and pulling Gail up. "See you later."

We had agreed earlier, Gail was going home with me, Belle would stay with Tom. Belle gave me a huge kiss with a lot of tongue.

.................................................

We hadn't gone half a mile before I had her top down, rubbing her erect nipples as she squirmed.

"Pull over!" she said, "I can't wait any longer."

I stopped at a park halfway home. I thought she wanted to do it in the car, but she surprised me.

"I may be in better shape than I was before, but I'm not that flexible any more."

She slid my slacks down and gave me a fifteen minute blow job that had my eyes rolling back in my head. Belle was really good, but this woman had skills! I think the top of my head caved in when I came. She swallowed, licked it clean, sat up, and smiled.

"There. Got that out of the way. Leave it out, baby, give me something to play with while you drive."

By the time we got to the house I was rock hard again. I undressed her, touching, kissing, licking. I returned her actions in kind, refusing to stop until her second orgasm.

I slid into her hard and fast, and we humped like monkeys the first time. She squealed and moaned while I grunted like a caveman. We both managed to explode within seconds of each other, collapsing together, trying to get our breath back.

She snuggled to me, kissing my cheek.

"Belle's an idiot. If I had this every night there is no way I'd share."

"I hope it lives up to her expectations," I said, thoughtfully.

"It will honey. You're probably an inch longer and a lot thicker, but Tom has skills. He'll have her screaming as hard as I was a few minutes ago."

We slept, woke up, fucked. Slept again, woke up to a blow job, fucked her doggy, her favorite position. Took a shower together just before Tom was bringing Belle home, fucked in the shower. She didn't clean up, sticking a tampon in.

"He'll take me just as soon as we get home, and loves to feel the extra lubrication."

That didn't appeal to me at all, but to each his own.

They arrived, and Belle gave me a passionate kiss, while Gail did the same to Tom. We said our goodbyes, and as soon as they were out of the driveway she was shedding clothes.

"I need you inside me, right now!"

I was surprised I had anything left, but rose to the occasion. After we fell back, gasping for breath, she hugged me tightly.

"Love you," she mumbled, drifting off to sleep.