It had been two days since I had been at Dave's house. I still felt I had been raped even though there are those who would say you can't rape the willing. But are you really willing if it is through hypnosis? Yes, the videotape of me looks like I was a willing participant, but in my mind I was fighting it as best I could. I just didn't have the strength.
My husband came home from his trip, and though I wanted to, I couldn't tell him what was wrong. He would walk up to me and ask if there was something wrong. I would try to get the words out, and then get sick to my stomach, run to the bathroom, and vomit. He tried to nurse me through my illness, some virus I told him. It was going around.
The day before I returned to work, my husband said he had something to tell me. I was just sure he had found out somehow about Dave and thought I was a slut and wanted a divorce. He sat me down and told me he knew what was wrong. I started to cry. He knew. How did he know? Would he blame me? Would he forgive me?
"I had a talk with your friend Dave today. He came by my work and told me that you had a bad time while I was gone and you needed time to recover. "
A talk with my "friend" Dave? What the hell happened? "W-w-what did he say?" I was afraid of what was coming next.
"Oh, don't worry, I won't embarrass you. He told me how much it upset you."
He walked away and into the bedroom. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what he was talking about. A few minutes later I followed into the bedroom but didn't see him. I heard moaning sounds coming from the bathroom. It couldn't be! My husband has always thought of masturbation as a sin. He would never do it, and he was disgusted when he found out that I did.
I peeked around the corner and looked. I was shocked to see him with his pants down around his ankles, his hand sliding up and down his cock. It was starting to get harder but nowhere near the size of Dave's piece of meat. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. It was so out of character. He was looking at a Playboy magazine. He NEVER would have had a magazine like that in the house in the past. What was going on? My eyes were glued to him as he fisted his cock, moaning loudly, calling out some woman's name I'd never heard before, and it sure as hell wasn't mine!
I tried to back away, but something held me there in place. I could see the precum escaping through the slit in his cock head. I closed my eyes and all I could see was Dave's cock. His moans brought me back to reality, and I watched mesmerized as my husband who had never touched himself before had one hand massaging his balls as the other slid over his cock head spreading that precum around.
I dropped my hand to my pussy, sliding a finger along my slit and then dipping into my cunt. It was bone dry. I moved my finger to my clit. I felt nothing, no excitement. My heart was pounding, but with frustration, not lust. His moans burned their way into my brain, and I furiously pushed my fingers into my pussy. What was wrong with me? Then I remembered Dave's words that I would not be able to orgasm from masturbation or my husband, only him.
I heard my husband's moans, and opened my eyes to see him shooting cum across the room, his hand pumping his cock faster and faster as he emptied itself for the first time into thin air. His cum had always found a warm receptacle in the past, my mouth or pussy.
I heard him talking to himself, still unaware that I was there. "That was the best orgasm of my life! Dave was right. This is so much better than sex with my wife. I should have been doing this years ago."
