A Wife's Confession

My name is Mary and this is a true story, (only names have been changed). I am telling it partly because it is so embarrassing I need to get it off my chest and -- well -- because I think that others may learn from it.

So let me get the biographical stuff out of the way. I am 48 years old, married, have 2 grown children and a 2-year-old grandson. We were married right after my husband got his engineering degree and I was getting a degree in nursing from the same North Carolina University. We had been friends and sweethearts since grade school and, believe it or not, we were both virgins on our wedding day.

I was, and still am, a lead nurse at the leading hospital in a medium sized city in central North Carolina. I was never a Hollywood beauty but I have kept in shape over the years and some people say I look younger than I really am. (I admit that nature and gravity have taken a bit of a toll, but for the most part have retained a decent figure.)

As I said I am a lead nurse in a large hospital -- and have responsibility for a group of mostly younger female nurses -- and therein lies the beginning of my story.

A few months ago one of the younger girls was planning her wedding and several of her friends from the hospital decided to throw her a party -- a hen stag party so to speak. I was pleased to be included especially so since I am so much older than the others. I wasn't involved in the planning but was assured that it would be a lot of fun.

It was planned for a Saturday night at a local hotel; a buffet supper with entertainment (and a cash bar.) The price of admission included a gift for the bride and the notice included a lighthearted note to plan for a "late night". It promised to be fun -- and it turned out to be true.

The buffet was good, there was a DJ with music that was too loud, and the young black bar-tender was good at rapping. There were the usual gag gifts and bawdy jokes and some sneaked smoking (tobacco and well -- other.) That together with the bar made for a lighthearted good time. The bar-tender/rapper was as handsome as he was talented and his fun banter as he served kept a steady stream of customers. He promised some of the girls that he would look for a dance with them -- and got lots of laughter and teasing.

About 9:30 or so the DJ announced that the buffet was closing and that the tables should be cleared of all but drinks as the main entertainment was about to start. There was a drum roll and the "bartender" stepped out from his portable bar and started a strip tease. The place

went wild!! And with each piece of clothing that came off, it got wilder and louder. (The alcohol and pot were having an effect.)

Soon some of the girls were teasing him, pretending to grab him and making jokes -- some a bit lewd. He was a good sport and good at his job.

One of the younger (and bolder) girls went up to him and pulled at his loincloth yelling "show us- show us"! Then another said she wanted to touch it and another said she would LOVE to kiss it.

Well a couple of them actually did kiss it and one took him completely into her mouth. It was bedlam!

He danced around the floor and danced a bit with a couple of the girls -- and then he spotted me sitting quietly taking it all in. In one graceful step he stepped up onto my table and said. "well momma, let's play". With that he went to his knees, took his cock in one hand and held it out to me as he put the other hand behind my head and pulled me forward -- pressing it to my lips.

Needless to say, I was in shock.

He then leaned over and whispered to me, "Thanks for being a good sport, meet me in the bar later and let me buy you a drink to show my thanks."

And he was gone, the party started to break up.

I helped pack up the gifts ,and saw to it that the girls got their things together and off to a safe start. (Sometimes I can't help but be a 'mother-hen' to them.) I was putting on my coat when I remembered the whisper and I thought, "well, why not stop by and at least say thanks." But when I got to the lounge he wasn't there -- at least I didn't see him. There was an impeccably dressed black man at the bar but I didn't know or recognize him. But he recognized me!

What a drastic change, from a stripper to a well turned out businessman. I was impressed. He said "Hi" and asked me to join him for a drink. I don't drink much alcohol -- just a very occasional Margareta and tried to decline, but he politely insisted so I agreed to one drink.

We sat at the bar and he introduced me to the bar-tender and told him what a good sport I had been as I sipped the Margareta. It sent a warm glow over me immediately. As I started to relax I could hear him talking but he seemed far away and I couldn't quite understand what he was saying. And then I realized that he had me by the hand and was urging me to finish my drink as I walked away with him leading me.

When we got to a room somewhere I heard the door close and lock and then being told to strip. I couldn't make myself resist. I stripped! And then I vaguely heard another voice somewhere in the distance giving me instructions: stand here, bend over, cup your breasts, pinch yourself etc. And always a flashing light and a clicking. But I had to obey -- I could not make myself refuse.

I don't know how long it went on but I guess not too long before I started to "come around" only to discover that I was on a bed with a man making love to me. My friend -- the stripper!

As my head became clearer and I started to resist he assured me that it was useless. And then he showed me the pictures that his friend had taken of us -- of me! In all positions and acts of sexual debauchery! He simply said, "Honey, relax. I own you now! You might as well accept it and enjoy it the same as I am. This is only the first step!"

It eventually ended and I had to figure out what had happened, what to do now, and how to get home ( I was in no condition to drive). And what would I tell my husband.

I decided to call home and explain that I had had too much to drink and was staying over until morning. And take it one step at a time from there. After a while my "friend" left me and I managed a little sleep. And after some breakfast -- which was delivered by room service -- I started the long trip home with much foreboding.

My husband met me at the door with a hearty hello and a hug and asked if I had had a good time. I gave him a brief but non-committal answer and went for a long slow shower and bath. While soaking in the tub I heard the doorbell and wondered about it but didn't hurry. When I finally emerged, there was my husband with a stack of pictures in his hand saying, "Well, I see that you did have a good time."

I thought and prayed I would drop dead on the spot. But my loving hubby just grinned at me and said, "Well I see we have entered a new phase and things will be very different in the future." And when I entered the dining room there was my "friend". He walked over to me and said, "Welcome home. With your hubby's permission I own you now".

And he does!