10:00 p.m. and waiting. Waiting, waiting, waiting...
They were probably done with dinner by now and maybe even out on
the dance floor. Every 10 or 15 minutes I found myself looking at
my watch and conjuring up new images, new snippets of
conversation... Were they talking about me? What exactly was
Linda telling him about our relationship, our marriage? Whatever
the details, I just knew it centered on sex.
I'd successfully fought off the urge to masturbate. Right now,
though, I decided to change my underwear. After repeated
tumescence, they were sticky with pre-cum.
God, this was the weirdest conglomeration of competing
emotions I'd ever felt. One moment I felt like jumping in my car
and hitting the nightspots to look for them. I had no idea what
I'd do if I found them, however. Probably just watch them
discreetly from a distance. Every once in a while a wave of anger
and jealousy would roll over me, though, and I'd fantasize about
marching up and confronting them. Those feelings would slowly melt
away and be replaced by a very profound lust. One side put an edge
on the other and made each emotion sharper and more defined; more
REAL than feelings I'd had in a long time.
In the back of my brain, a part of my mind started to wonder,
just wonder mind you, about the source and intensity of the turn-
on. In our bondage games, Linda was always the submissive.
Submission had never been a part of my erotic dreams or fantasies.
Was it possible that, in allowing this to happen, I was indirectly
submitting to both Linda and her date? Or even further, that I was
somehow submitting directly to HIM, with her as the intermediary or
offering if you will? Were there, god forbid, homosexual
undertones here? You know, like subconsciously making love to him
through my wife? Okay, I'll admit, since I'm being perfectly frank
here, that on a couple occasions I'd fantasized about sucking cock.
(I'm STRAIGHT, alright!?) I hadn't gone very far with that
particular mastabatory thread, though, and it had been quite a few
years ago. I'm not going to posture and spout any of that
homophobic shit. I despise it. But, on the other hand, I've never
gotten an erection looking at naked men. Just the opposite. It's
the quickest way I know to get rid of one.
10:05. Well, time's just flying by and I've come up with a
ream of insights into this whole thing. Jesus, sometimes my lack
of self-awareness scares even me. I grabbed the latest copy of
Time magazine and lay down on the couch in my den and tried to
read, every once in a while rubbing my throbbing, painfully hard
cock with the heel of my palm. I looked over at the clock on my
10:10. Next to the clock was a picture of Linda taken a few
years ago by a photographer friend. An "artsy" black and white of
just her face and her long black hair cascading over her shoulder.
Whenever I look at Linda for a long time and have to describe her,
the best I can come up with is a "fawn." Everyone we meet say she
reminds them of Audrey Hepburn (no, it's before my time, but I HAVE
seen her movies). I know I'm a pretty lucky guy to be married to
her. In my mind's eye, the picture transformed from a demure smile
to one of lust. Open mouth, head thrown back, sweat dripping, eyes
I woke with a start and immediately checked out my new friend,
the clock. 2:30 a.m. I stumbled up, made sure the porch and
entrance light were on, then went upstairs. Taking my clothes off,
I climbed into bed and collapsed. Pornographic visions danced in
I heard a noise and jerked up on my elbow. I was fully awake
in an instant. Pretty shallow sleep, I guess. Footsteps coming up
the stairway. I glanced at the alarm clock. 4:30 a.m. I lay back
down, feigning sleep, but with a good enough angle to see out of
the corner of my eye.
Linda came around the corner and stopped at the bathroom
entrance. She looked my way for a brief moment. Her hair was up
(the way she wears it when she "can't do anything with it"). She
went in the bathroom and closed the door. The water ran for what
seemed like an eternity. The door opened and I closed my eyes. I
felt the bed move as she sat next to me and her hand rested on my
I opened my eyes and looked up at her.
"Hi," I managed. "What time is it?"
"Late, darling." She stroked my forehead and climbed in next
to me. She was still fully clothed. Neither Linda nor I smoked,
but I could smell the odor of stale cigarettes in her hair. I
wondered what "his" brand was.
Suddenly, her hand went down under the covers and grabbed my
iron-hard cock. The coolness of her hand was electrifying.
"Are you mad at me, darling?" she asked quietly.
"Hell no," I said with a grin. "But I will be if you don't
spit out every detail of what happened, right now!" Reassured, she
snuggled in closer and I pulled the blanket over both of us.
Suddenly, while rhythmically pumping my cock, she leaned over and
kissed me full on the mouth. I returned it with passion. It was
all wet and tongue and she tasted of sex and wine.
"You're missing an ear-ring," I said when she pulled back.
"Oh, shit!" she said grabbing at her naked earlobe.
"So?" I said, raising my eyebrows.
She looked at me with a gleam in her eye.
"Well, I'm afraid I've been a naughty girl tonight."
I ran my hand down her back and over her thighs and buttocks.
"They got a little messy, so I had to get rid of them," she
As she stroked my erection, the following story emerged:
Linda had met him at the restaurant for cocktails and a light
supper. They'd talked mostly about work at first, but the
conversation had inevitably led to his ex-wife and to me. She'd
flirted relentlessly with him, firing off a long series of
innuendos and suggestions. He'd been fast on the uptake and
quickly responded in kind. She noticed that his eyes kept
wandering to her nipples that were nicely outlined by her silk
After dinner, they'd driven in separate cars to a small club
on the west side. They started dancing, and he'd been a gentleman
at first, but after Linda had started rubbing the upper part of her
hip against his groin, things got a bit more raunchy.
"God, that feels pretty nice." she'd whispered in his ear
after letting her hand drop down between them and into his crotch.
The rubbing and grinding had gotten a little too hot, and they'd
gone back to the table.
At one point, near closing time, and Linda herself can hardly
believe she did this, she had reached under the table and under her
skirt. Pulling her panties aside, she'd pushed her middle finger
deep into her soaking cunt. Bringing it out, she'd put it to his
lips and let him lick it clean, all the while keeping their eyes
They left his car in the parking lot and took hers to his
apartment. She had asked him to drive and as they made their way
to his place, had reached over, unzipped his pants and pulled his
cock out. Leaning over, she had swirled her tongue around the tip
to savored the taste of his pre-cum. "Do you suck your husband's
cock like this?" he had asked distractedly, trying to concentrate
on the road. Her mouth full, my wife didn't answer.
It was at this point that I exploded all over Linda's hand and
my belly. My cock now well lubricated with gobs of sticky cum, she
continued to stroke it slowly. As she went on with the story, I
was very quickly hard again.
Once inside his apartment, his whole personality had changed.
The "gentleman" was gone. He had forced her onto her knees,
unzipped his pants and, looming over her, pulled his erect penis
out. She reached up to take it in her slender hands, but he had
pushed them away.
"Just suck it. Use your mouth. You don't need your hands."
She had tried the best she could, but although he was about my
length, he had been much thicker around. She had worked her mouth
over the bulging crown and gotten it to the back of her throat and
had started working her tongue and lips when, suddenly, he had
tensed and actually started coming!
She hadn't expected it so soon, had gagged, and a lot of it
had dribbled from the corner of her stretched lips. (I had noticed
some suspicious stains down the front of her blouse). She had done
her best to swallow what she could manage. It had been slightly
sweet with a hint, she could have sworn, of almonds, rather than
the "salt-water" taste of mine.
"Your husband has a very nice little cock-sucker for a wife.
I hope he appreciates you," he had said, while wiping the few
dribbles of cum from his cock that Linda had missed.
They had sat on the couch and talked for a few minutes, and he
was soon very hard indeed again. He had taken his pants and shorts
off. He stood my wife up in front of his couch and made her bend
over at the waist with her arms on the back and her feet spread as
wide as she could manage. He had hiked her dress up over her waist
and pulled her panties off. His big cock had entered her from
behind with little resistance.
She described the fuck as brutal and hard. (While the words
said one thing, the dreamy inflection of her voice told her real
experience of it). He had reached around with one hand and forced
his three middle fingers into her mouth, holding her tongue and
lower jaw between the fingers and his thumb. While it hadn't been
painful, Linda described it as a very dominant and sexy action.
The other hand had been busily changing between working her clit
and squeezing her small breasts.
As he fucked deep into my wife, and while holding her violated
mouth open, he had whispered in her ear.
"This is for your husband. And this, pretty little cunt, is
for you," he whispered as he banged even harder into her hole.
The fuck had been long and hard. She had come 4 or five
times, she couldn't remember, and her legs were almost giving out
when he finally came and sprayed her cunt with semen.
They didn't talk much after that. He'd offered to let her
spend the night, but she had declined. After cleaning up as best
she could, she had driven straight home.
I reached over and pulled her black skirt up. She scooted
underneath me and spread her legs wide. Even in the semi-light of
our bedroom, I could see that the lips of her pussy were red and
"It's okay, darling. It's a little sensitive down there, but
if you take it easy on me at first, it won't be a problem," she
She was probably the "loosest" and wettest I'd ever
experienced in 8 years of marriage, and even though I knew my cock
was sliding in my wife's juices mixed with a stranger's spunk, I
didn't care a bit. As I pumped her slowly and lovingly, our eyes
Before I came again, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I
remembered that this was only the first "part" of her fantasy and,
supposedly, the tamest part.