Valentine's Day Dinner

I'm married to an amazing woman, and this story is about a romantic Valentine's Day dinner. My wife, Erica, is smarter than me. She's also in better shape than me. Our second child was born on a Friday, and my wife was a bride's maid in a wedding on Saturday a week later. She wore a dress that was fitted before she was pregnant. I wouldn't say she is a perfect ten or anything, but she has always been perfect for me.

Erica's a great mother too. She stayed home with the kids while I was busy growing our small business. We had new orders everyday, and I couldn't hire employees fast enough. She still found time to complete the payroll and handle the employee benefits. She paid all the bills, so I could concentrate on generating new business. Things were going so well that we built an office on the commercial street a few blocks from our house.

She is my spouse, my business partner, and my best friend. That's why I reluctantly agreed when she asked to open our marriage. She explained how she had enough love and lust for more than one man. After all, she loves both of our children. Loving the second doesn't diminish her love for the first.

I asked if she already had a lover in mind, and she confessed that she did. His name was Mark, and I knew him casually from several years earlier when Erica worked with him. I'd met him at her employer's summer picnic and at their Christmas party. I asked if she was already having an affair with Mark, and she denied it. I don't think she was. She just wanted it.

I wanted to know why she needed another man, and why Mark specifically? She said, "He enjoys things like antiquing and farmer's markets that you don't. He has a personality opposite to you and makes a perfect balance."

"You can't just be friends?"

"We can, and we are, but I've felt a growing attraction to him for several years. I'll regret it if I never explore a romantic and passionate relationship with him."

"I'm not enough?"

"That's not the right question," she said. "You are delicious chocolate fudge ripple. You're my favorite flavor. It doesn't mean I don't crave a little Carmel Crunch now and again."

"So by 'open', you mean you want to sleep with Mark. Will there be any other men? Are you going to date?" My questions were rhetorical because I had no intention of agreeing. My heart was breaking.

"I can't predict the future, but Mark is the only other man I want right now. It takes a long time for a man to grow on me. You know that. We were engaged for four years before we got married."

"So you'd allow me to sleep with other women, too?"

"Of course."

"You aren't afraid of diseases or becoming pregnant?"

"Don't be silly. Neither one of us is promiscuous. I'm sure you'd use adequate protection, and Mark isn't seeing anyone. You can't think he has anything."

"I'm not comfortable with this," I complained. "I don't want anybody else."

"But I do." She said it with resolve.

I thought about it for a few weeks. She brought up the question often enough that I wondered when she would just do it without my permission. She seemed eager. What were my options? I could put my foot down, and she'd be unhappy. I could divorce her, but our lives could not be unwound. We owned a business together. I thought about the kids. I thought about how much I would miss her.

We invited Mark for dinner at our house, and I liked him. He's a year or two younger than me, a little taller, and forty pounds lighter. He and I had a lot in common besides my wife. She said he and I were opposites, but I didn't see it that way. If anything, I saw a younger less confident version of me.

When I conceded to my lover's desire, she and Mark kept their trysts discreet. They met during the day while I was at the office. Most of the time, I wasn't even aware. Every time I made love to my wife, I wondered if she had already been with Mark that day. I kept the question to myself. I didn't want the answer.

Erica and Mark spent increasing amounts of time together. I watched the children on weekends while she went antiquing or whatever with him. She often tried to tell me about her days, but I waved her off. I said, "I'm glad you had fun." She and I still had fun too. We watched movies and laughed together. We held hands when we walked around the neighborhood at dusk pulling our preschoolers behind us in a little red wagon.

Then, she and Mark went on a four day trip to a bed and breakfast several hundred miles away. She arranged a babysitter, so I could go into the office on the week days. When she returned late on the fourth day, I tried to entice her in bed. I was horny after more than a week without sex or masturbation. I caressed her shoulders and nibbled her neck.

"I'm too tired," she said. "I've been in a car all day, and I just want to go to sleep."

I tried to cuddle her, but she said she was too hot. I didn't sleep well that night. I felt like I was loosing her, but I told myself I should be happy for her pleasure. If I wasn't enough for her, didn't I want her to fill the gaps, as she described it? I wanted her to be happy.

Several months past. Mark was at our house often, and he played with the kids. They called him "uncle". Mark and I even played tennis together a few times. He was a decent guy. I understood why Erica liked him. Actually, I kicked myself; I understood why Erica loved him.

Then one day, I overheard Erica on the phone. I don't know who she was talking to, but she said, "It's like a chore with him now. I do it because it's my duty ... I promised it wouldn't change the way I felt for him, and he's the father of my children."

I walked to the office, shut the door, and cried. I hadn't cried since I was a five year old.

Sex dropped off. I seldom initiated it. Erica met me at the door with a smile most days. I painted a smile on my face as well. One night, after the kids were asleep, she proposed a threesome with Mark and me. I had no sexual interest in Mark, but a nagging voice told me I needed to do something to remain part of Erica's sex life.

A few nights later, we hosted Mark for dinner, and when the children went to sleep, Erica took both of our hands and guided us to the bedroom. She stripped and lay in our marriage bed. She said, "I want one of you on each side."

Mark and I caressed her the way I know she likes. He seemed timid at first, and I was probably a little too aggressive at first. Erica writhed under our touch. She cooed and made noises of pleasure I hadn't heard for months. Mark kissed her neck and teased her nipples while my tongue lapped her folds. She jerked in orgasm while clamping my head in her thighs. When she became coherent, she said, "I want you inside me."

I wasted no time. I stripped and mounted her. I slid in easily as always and grunted my pleasure as I thrust. She French kissed Mark and ran her fingers through his hair while I panted and sweated. The sheen of perspiration from her first orgasm dried, and I suggested a new position.

Mark flopped on his back with his head on my pillow. Erica climbed onto her hands and knees and pulled his cock into her mouth. I slid back and forth within her body. I always enjoyed doggy style, but it wasn't one of her favorites. Mark came in Erica's mouth, but I couldn't finish. Something about the scene put me off. I just didn't feel right, and as much as I wanted to blow a load, I couldn't get over the edge. I pulled out frustrated as my erection softened.

"Mmmm, your turn big boy," she said around Mark's penis. She pulled herself along his body rubbing her nipples on his chest. She lingered over his mouth while he sucked and pulled a breast. Erica positioned herself over Mark's cock, and damn if he wasn't hard again already. Veins stood out along his length, and I estimated his thickness. I didn't do well in comparison.

Erica rode her lover while I sat on the edge of the bed. I flipped my limp dick idly knowing I wouldn't get another erection. I watched Erica arch her back and make noises I never heard before. Sweat trickled down her back and her whole body trembled. She frantically rubbed her clitoris while she rocked back and forth. His uncovered cock glided easily in and out of her depths. He pinched her nipples, and she clench the blankets in her claws.

When Erica came for the second time that night, she actually screamed. She usually made noises of pleasure with me, but I'd never heard a scream. Waves of delight coursed over her for a seeming eternity. When she collapsed, she lay on Mark's chest panting, and his cock was still inside her. Both of them closed their eyes, and within a few minutes, my wife slept in Mark's embrace.

After that night, sex with Erica evaporated. It dried up. I used my hand whenever I could muster the energy. It wasn't often. Having broken the taboo of fucking in front of me, they lost more inhibitions. Sometimes, when I came home from work, Mark was still in my marriage bed while Erica cooked dinner. They hugged and cooed and made contented noises in front of the children. They thought nothing of it, I'm sure, but the little gestures of affection between them are what fired my jealousy.

I wasn't raving mad or anything. It was more of a dull ache in my heart. It was an occasional tear that I wouldn't notice until I wiped it away. I told my employees I had an allergy.

The three of us went out for a fancy Valentine's Day dinner leaving the kids with a sitter. Mark and Erica seemed very happy. The pinched each other and moved their chairs to be close. Erica smiled and giggled. Over the entrée, they broke the news. Erica was pregnant.

I was dumbfounded. I felt stupid, and I said stupid things. I asked, "didn't you use protection?"

They though it was a silly question. "Of course not," Erica said. "You know I've always wanted three children."

Something broke in me. I was done. Well, I was done a long time before, but I didn't know it. I smiled and congratulated them. The baby was due in August. We talked about names. Mark insisted that a girl be named after his grandmother, Phyllis. Erica and I both wrinkled our noses at the name.

Here's the thing. My marriage was over. I knew it. I wasn't in love with Erica anymore. I didn't even want to have sex with her. But, she was the mother of my children, my business partner, and still a good friend even though I was pissed with her at the time. She complained when I started sleeping in the guest room, but her heart wasn't in the complaints. She slept at Mark's apartment several nights a week. She'd drive over after the kids were in bed and be back to wake them for breakfast.

So, by now, you're asking, how was that a romantic Valentine's Day dinner? I didn't say it was romantic for me. Don't feel too sorry for me though. I'm out there dating. It's hard to find a girl who sticks around after I tell her I'm married. On the occasions I get a chance to explain, they seem sympathetic. I don't have many second dates though.

My right hand and I have gotten closer than ever. I'm financially secure. I've been working out. I love to laugh and live to love. There's a beautiful woman out there for me. I hope Erica likes her when they meet.