It was nearly eleven when she finally made her way to the house, I was waiting for her with a glass of wine. It took her little time to make herself comfortable, and we got into it in the bedroom. She shared a few more details of her unexpected romp with Randy - how at one point he'd been pumping so hard while he was behind her that he fell off the bed, a new position she'd found on the coffee table. We were messing around, I found her ready, she came hard when I got behind her, standing on the floor, soon she turned around, her back on the bed, her legs locked around my waist, I couldn't hold back very long thinking (as always) that I was where another man had been not too long ago.
We laid together, embracing and fondling, talking. "One thing sort of upset me with Randy," she admitted, "he called you a cuckold. I don't think you're a cuckold, do you dear?"
"Depends on what you mean. If you mean a guy who's wife takes other men to bed, yes, and it doesn't bother me at all. If you mean a guy who's wife cheats on him, or he's being used, or that he's submissive and doesn't have any control over the situation, no, I'm not one."
"I'm glad to hear that. Randy's point, I guess, is that I'm free to do what I want, but you don't do anything. He thought that was a little weird."
"Maybe it is, for him. For us I think it's fine, that's the way we want it, and who's to tell us it's wrong?"
"Right," she agreed, "but dear, is it okay with you? Would you like to have other women?" She asked me this from time to time, I think she wanted to make sure my attitude wasn't changing.
"If it happened, I might want to, I won't rule it out. But I'm not in any hurry, and if it never does, I won't worry about it. I love you, dear, and you keep me satisfied. I don't need other women."
"I love you too. And I really don't need other men, either."
"But you like taking them to bed, don't you?" The sheepish look on her face told me silently that our hobby was a real pleasure for her. "So, are you going to pick somebody else up on your next business trip?"
"Oh, I shouldn't have done it this time. I don't want to get too wanton."
"I don't mind," I soothed her, "if you want to, it's fine with me."
"Well, I feel I should be careful, that's all. If this becomes a habit, I wonder if I'll be hurting our marriage. I don't ever want to do that."
"Don't worry about it, dear, we'll be together until we're old and grey and you're banging every guy in the nursing home."
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Chapter 11
Molly really did enjoy her hobby, making love to various men. We were discussing the topic one day, and she told me, "I like how they're attracted to me. It's not that I ever felt ignored or anything, but back when I was in my twenties, before we met, it seemed like every guy wanted to pick me up. Then, after we got married that went away. Of course, I didn't want the attention, I was a bride and that meant I had to give up other guys."
"But you've always flirted," I protested.
"Yes, but it's always been innocent. Even if the guy took it the wrong way, I knew nothing was ever going to happen. Now, when we meet a guy and I flirt, there's this dangerous little overtone that something might actually happen, that I'll be able to take it to the next step or even all the way. Sometimes I'll meet a guy while I'm jogging or in the supermarket, and I tingle for awhile, thinking 'what if'. And that's very exciting. Of course, when we meet a guy from SLS, and I know that there's a good chance I'll wind up in bed with him, it's intoxicating."
Another time she related, "I love the way men aren't the same. They do things just a little different. It's not that I'm bored with you, dear, it's just that we know each other so well that we do things almost by rote. With a new guy, I never know what he'll do next. And I find myself exploring - will he like a nipple tweaked? What will he smell and taste like?"
"What's the best part of sex with somebody new?" I asked.
"Oh, that's easy. The first kiss. You can tell so much by that. If he'll be aggressive, if I'll have to take the lead, if he's gentle or rough, oh everything. And then there's the foreplay. The first time with Mark, I was amazed at the way he felt my breast. He came up from the bottom, wasn't in a hurry, and played with the aureole for awhile without going directly for the nipple. It drove me nuts, and when he actually did touch it, it was like electricity. That's just an example, dear, nearly every guy I've had since we started had some little quirk that was different. It's fun! What's your favorite part?"
"You mean when I'm watching you? Well, the moment that drives me nuts is when he enters the very first time, watching you accept him inside you. It means you've got one more man that you're a lover with. And then, I love watching your face as you're having an orgasm."
We talked about things such as that quite a bit, it made the hobby a shared sport, and not just something she did alone.
Through the fall and winter we normally had between two and four men that we were corresponding with on SLS, men that might or might not become Molly's partner. One man was on our list for seven months before we finally met, it was an issue of our schedules not meshing. A couple of the guys got frustrated, said that we were teasing them, that we had no intention of ever meeting them. Molly insisted we drop those guys immediately, if we ever did meet them for a drink the atmosphere might be acrimonious, and if she decided not to take it further, then it could get uncivil. We could afford to be picky, there were so many single men looking for a woman that the ones who disqualified themselves could be replaced easily.
Throughout those six months we met nine men, three of whom Molly, and in one case I, rejected because they just didn't feel right. The one I rebuffed was all about himself, boasting of how he'd been with so many women, that all of them felt he was the best lover they'd ever had, that two women had wanted to leave their husbands after they'd had sex with him. Molly joked later that I caused her to miss God's gift to women, and said she was tempted just to see if he had anything at all in the sack, but I was sure she wasn't upset with my veto.
Why so few? From the pool of applicants Molly could have easily had a new lover every week, even two a week. But we didn't have unlimited time, there were other things in our lives, work, social engagements, the holidays came upon us. And then there was the thought that we wanted these things to be special, not become just an every day occurrence. For example, after Randy we waited three weeks until we both nearly exploded, "Let's have some fun." And we sent an invitation to one of the men on our list, it was accepted for the following weekend, we met at a bar then went to his place, both Molly and I enjoyed ourselves. The man thought it was great as well, but Molly chose not to give him a return engagement, he'd been less than fiery in the bedroom, and with so many others wanting a turn . . .
In fact, we only gave one of those guys a second chance, Molly didn't want another person in our life, for there was Mark.
As time went on, Mark became more and more of a friend, and we would see him once, perhaps twice a month, and Molly might sneak over to his apartment - with my knowledge and permission, of course - two other times during the month. And, surprisingly, sex wasn't always something that happened. When it did, it was wonderful, Molly thought Mark was a fantastic lover and when the three of us went at it, we meshed perfectly, Molly always crawled away from our triads gratified. And Mark and I constantly joked about, and sometimes found, a novel way to excite our lady. But when it didn't, when we just went to a play or jazz club together or for whatever reason we weren't in the mood, it was still a nice night with a friend.
Mark knew we saw men in addition to him, Molly said that a few times when she was in bed with Mark and I wasn't around he'd ask if she'd learned any new tricks, and she'd tell him a tale, and that would excite both of them further. As I said, it was a hobby, and hobbies are better when shared, aren't they?
It was a cold day in February, we were snuggled in bed on a wintry Sunday morning, and I tried to get Molly's attention. "Okay, you've been with two men at one time, would you like more?"
"More than two at one time?" She thought about it. "No, I really don't think so. I mean, I can do things with another guy and you, and sometimes you just like to watch, but if I had three or more guys trying to get my attention at the same time, I don't know what I'd do." The idea of a gang bang was discussed, Molly didn't want to be in one, she didn't think she'd feel safe or in control in such a situation, but it did give her another idea. One we acted on.
There were two men that Molly really liked on SLS, Kendall and Pat, and we sent out invitations for both of them to meet us the following Saturday, Kendall in the afternoon, Pat later. We got a hotel room about twenty miles away. After checking in we puttered around, I put six condoms on the night stand, and Molly made herself up. She donned a scarlet mesh chemise and matching panties, nylons, high heels and a choker. She was a temptress in red, and at 4:30 she sat in a chair and began reading a hardback of erotic stories while I headed for the bar. Kendall was already there, and when he saw that Molly wasn't with me he was a bit taken aback, but we sat at a table and chatted a bit. After I'd sized him up, decided he was acceptable, I got my phone out, dialed Molly, then handed the phone to him.
I could hear his side of the conversation, "Yes, this is Kendall . . . oh, it's nice to hear your voice, too . . . I'd like to meet you, too, I thought you'd be here . . . really? . . . room 417 . . . All right." He handed the phone back to me, and I slid him a room card. "Have fun," I proffered, and he left the table. I sipped my beer, waited the agreed amount of time and then, eighteen minutes after Kendall had left the table, I headed for the elevators. I hesitated at the door to our suite, I could hear the faint slapping of skin but no words, then, precisely twenty minutes after Kendall had entered the room, I followed. There was Molly, kneeling on the bed, her top had been discarded but she still wore her heels, nylons, and panties - they were crotchless - and behind her stood an absolutely naked Kendall, his penis inserted where penises should be, Molly was moving away from him while he pulled back, then with gusto they roared towards each other, creating that lovely smack. I went to the chair, sat, Kendall smiled at me, Molly waved me a kiss and gasped, "Oh, Kendall's pretty good. In fact . . . I think . . . I'm going to . . . oh! OH! OHHHHHHH!" Kendall did seem pretty good, and he just kept going while he made my wife come hard, and then they shifted, Molly in reverse cowgirl. He had his hands all over her ass, with one arm she supported herself, with another she was tickling his balls, and then she started to come again, I noticed her hand went to her clit, and when she was done she laid on the bed, next to him. They kissed, fondled, and then she encouraged him to get on top, her heels high in the air, and she whispered encouragement to him as he let go, his moans soft yet intense. I watched him in his apparently painful grimace, Molly looked at me as he orgasmed, smiled as she gained another satisfied customer. It took him a few minutes to finish, then collapse in exhaustion, then they embraced. "Well, that was different," he remarked.
