Every word is true.
Let me begin by saying that. I write this as a sort of confessional, a therapy for an obsession that seems as though it will never leave me. I have decided to share the events that carried me on a most unlikely path to satisfy a desire I cannot name. It began in college so I will start there.
Once upon a time I was normal, well, fairly normal guy. I attended and graduated from college at a large university in Florida. She, a sorority girl from a comfortable family, lived in the apartment above me with a roommate. We had nothing in common, but soon became friends, just friends. In truth, I wasn't terribly interested in her in a sexual way, nor she in me. She was cute, but not a stunning beauty. In fact I typically dated girls who were more conventionally attractive so despite the assertion that such things are not possible we really were just friends. I just wasn't her type, nor was she mine.
She was/is much taller than me for starters, 5'10 to my 5'6. But she had a runner's body, very strong, very trim, but only medium sized breasts. I am a short guy, but I was a very lean, about 150 pounds who went to the gym daily, handsome, but definitely not her type. Her type, as it turns out, is about six inches taller than me with narrow hips.
It was incredibly sexy legs that first caught my attention one night after a few beers as we hung out in her apartment. I noticed them with the objectivity of a guy observing his sister is a pretty girl, but feeling nothing about it really because my feelings for her were so different than from any girl before. She had evolved into the best friend I ever had....nothing more, nothing less.
To shorten an already long prologue to the action, we were somehow changed into a couple without either of really noticing it. But how I loved it. I had an incredibly high sex drive and she was 19 and eager to oblige. She would suck and fuck me as many times as I wanted. I had no idea how to make her cum, but she made me cum over and over. I remember she'd happily suck me to completion, swallowing every time. When I got hard while we did something as mundane as watching television, she viewed this as a sign that we should go again and so we did. We were madly in love. We couldn't believe how happy we were. We were married at 20 at the court house because we both wanted it to last forever.
Like many relationships that start off with an incredible passion, this one faded. After having sex literally 2, 3, and 4 times a day, I think I simply wore out the newness of the experience. Add to that the fact that I had no idea how to touch her clit in a way that would make her cum and you can see where she was quickly growing tired of my selfish little game of using her. I loved her, but in reality I used her to get me off as much as and often as she could stand and I did so without returning the favor. I plowed her endlessly with my respectable 5 inch cock, but she never came from this, not once.
As the sex became infrequent, we began to argue. I also sensed that she was more and more interested in the tales told to her by her single friends. She no longer hung out with the sorority girl crowd, but was waiting tables as I finished my final semester. I could tell that she felt envious of their freedom, their ability to go out for a girls' night out and to hook up with the other guys they worked with. I could tell all this because she frequently wanted to go out with one girl who, like her, had been in a sorority and had loved it, but ultimately couldn't see paying the dues. She, however, loved to tell my wife how much fun she was having going to this or that bar, flirting with college boys and never failed to invite her along. I despised this girl because she did a poor job of concealing her contempt for me.
She considered me a poor catch. I couldn't stand was the sense that she was always telling my wife about this or that cute guy with a gleam in her eye like she was saying without saying it, "you could do so much better than this guy." I resisted their going out and this only added to the building friction of our relationship. Jealousy is not an attractive quality and I became more and more possessive of her.
One day, as I once again suggested we have sex, my wife got this look on her face and asked me to sit down. She calmly explained that she thought perhaps we'd made a mistake and married too young. She loved me, but more as a friend, more like a brother than a lover. She sat there in our apartment, in a sexy little pair of jeans and a tight tshirt that showed her nipples through the thin material and told me she just wasn't attracted to me. She looked better than when we'd started dating. She was teaching aerobics on and off and looked great I thought as I contemplated losing her.
No, she explained, there was no one else, but she was just not happy with our sex life. She still loved my company, but that was all she felt for me. I desperately said I could be what she wanted. I begged, I pleaded, and eventually she said we'd try to work things out. But, she explained, she was going out with her girlfriend that night to a local bar...not to pick up or anything like that. She was going out with her girlfriends and I was going to have to be OK with it. Realizing I was on the ropes, I agreed with good grace and even persuaded her I could come along without cramping her style. I was wrong.
When we arrived at the bar she got out and walked ahead of and no sooner had she may her way in than a guy she worked with immediately spotted her and came over to her. The hug he gave her sent me through the roof. It was so sensual, it bespoke such familiarity, such intimacy. It lasted about 5 seconds which may not sound long, but the way she pressed his body to his and his hands slid down her back just short of her sexy ass....I was convinced in an instant that they were fucking. He was about 6 feet tall, good looking, thin, and conveyed a cockiness that type of guy always possesses.
I approached them with the air of someone who'd just been slapped in the face and demanded to my wife that we leave. We moved away to talk and she protested, saying, "this is how you want to treat me and expect me to stay married to you?!"
I replied that I wasn't sure I wanted to stay married to her since she was clearly already fucking other guys. She became so angry she said she didn't want to stay anyway and we went home.
We talked and talked. Eventually we found ourselves having makeup sex from our fight and then talking some more as I lay satisfied beside my unsatisfied wife. Finally. safe in our friendship again, and after substantial prodding from me, she admitted that yes she was attracted to him. No, she said, she had not fucked him or anyone else. And like so many men who have traveled down this path something changed in me at that moment. I got hard.
The humiliation I felt at her admission, the hurt, the jealousy, these feelings still existed, but they were subsumed beneath and overwhelming excitement that confused me and frankly shocked me a little. I'd wanted to kick this guy's ass an hour ago and now I was hard, so hard knowing she wanted him. I was lying on my back so my erection wasn't pressed against her.
I asked her stupidly, "why...why do you want him?"
She had no idea that I was becoming aroused and so answered reluctantly, "I guess just how he looks, how he acts." She paused a moment and continued, "several girls at work have slept with him and they say he's....good."
"Good? " I asked. I rolled on my left side to face her directly.
She seemed embarrassed, but we were secure now, just two best friends talking. She replied with a half smile, "well, supposedly he's big and he lasts a long time." Up until that moment I'd never thought of my endowment as anything other than respectable and satisfying to my wife and every other girl I'd ever slept with. And I realized with a thud of recognition that he was probably bigger than me and my wife found that appealing.
I tried to sound casual, a bit sarcastic and not threatened, "He can't be that big, he's not that tall." She said nothing. I continued a bit defensively, "He can't last longer than I do."
She sensed that I was threatened and laughed to lighten the mood as she said, "you are fine honey." And so saying she reached for my penis to illustrate her affection. She encountered my rock hard, lightly leaking cock and exclaimed, "oh my god, this is turning you on!" She laughed a bit more now. Relieved now, if perplexed by my reaction, she began to slowly stroke me. I wanted to know more, but this was unfamiliar territory.
I tried to sound nonchalant, "How did you hear this? How many girls has he fucked that work with you?"
She stopped stroking. "Don't get mad" she said. "He's fucked almost all of them. Five or six that I know of." I couldn't help it. I got even more excited as I pictured the way he'd hugged her when we arrived at the bar.
"Don't they get mad?" I asked. "Don't they care that he's just going through them?" I pictured several of the cute girls that worked there and imagined him fucking them.
When she said the next words, I began to slightly thrust my hips while she held my cock. "They don't care... he's a great lay they just don't care." And then, as if it weren't clear enough, "He's such a stud." This last remark once again made me jealous I guess because I realized somehow in her estimation I was not "a stud" like him.
She looked at me now very directly, gauging my reaction and I could tell she too was getting turned on by the conversation. I reached down to touch her pussy and it was sopping wet, so much wetter than our normal fucks.
"You're so wet," I said trying not to sound accusing, but feeling a bit betrayed. She once again seemed a bit embarrassed, but nodded and continued to stroke me as I played with her. "You are thinking about him aren't you?" She seemed to get even wetter if that was possible and began stroking me faster, but didn't answer. I was overcome with emotions again. This was new to me. Jealousy flared, but was quickly overwhelmed by lust. The non answer was an answer.
I said, "I have to fuck you now."
I mounted her missionary. I had to slow down since I was so close to cumming even though I'd come just 30 minutes or so earlier. I began slowly moving inside her as I asked again, "he really fucked all those girls at your work?" She nodded, she has closed her eyes now, no longer watching me as I slowly moved inside her.
I couldn't help myself from saying, "you know he wants to fuck you too don't you?" She didn't answer but seemed to thrust a bit harder back at me. "It's ok," I assured her. "I won't get mad. I'm so fucking turned on right now." Still, she waited maybe ten seconds before finally answering me. Then she once again checked my expression and sensed jealousy was nowhere in sight.
"Yes," she answered looking at me now. "I know he wants to fuck me." I slowed down because I was getting close to cumming.
She looked a bit worried, but relaxed when with a smile I said in smart ass way, "Oh yeah, how can you be so sure? "
Her reply shocked me, but it shouldn't have. "Because he tells me every day," she said with a guilty expression. "He flirts with me every day and at least once a day lets me know that he wants me." Her direct stare showed she was wondering if this was going too far. My cock swelled even more and she kindof cocked her head to the side recognizing it.
I started really fucking her hard. By now I'd fully admitted to myself what a huge turn on this was and so I confessed it to her. "I don't know why, but it turns me on to think about him...... wanting you." I paused and then confessed it all. "It turns me on to think about you fucking him." I was a bit ashamed, but I couldn't hold back.
