It all started nearly a year ago when I first discussed the idea of an open marriage with my wife Ann. Ann and I had been together for more than thirty-three years and still loved one another, but I found myself searching for more excitement. Our sex life had become ho-hum at best, and an open marriage seemed plausible at the time. The only rule was that we had to confess to the other if something were to occur.

I knew Ann would be against it, but after explaining myself, she reluctantly told me to go for it if I felt the need to. Ann and I had never been with anyone else, and I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by her answer. Knowing me too well, Ann had a good idea of how this would all play out. I should have known better, but in the end, it would come back to haunt me.

Initially excited, I saw it as an opportunity, but as the months passed, it became obvious it was going nowhere. The grand visions I had repeatedly played out in my mind were nothing more than a pipe dream. I should have known this from the start, but my stupidity got in the way. As time went on, not another word was spoken, and I thought all was forgotten, or at least I thought so. It wasn’t until my wife openly confessed something that everything changed.

Ann’s company had been going through an upgrade of their computer system. She and a few others had been working long hours and had just finished up one night when she texted me that she would be home later than usual.

She said they were going out for drinks to celebrate it being done and that I shouldn’t wait up. I figured she would be home reasonably, and I went to bed at my usual time. Just past midnight, I suddenly woke to her walking in. Her hair had been ruffled, and she had her bra in her hand. This was highly unusual, and seeing her without a bra was even more alarming. When I asked her where she had been and why she had no bra, she played dumb.

“I told you we went out for a drink after work,” she replied.

I knew there was more to the story, and she seemed to be hiding something. I wanted a better explanation and pushed on with our conversation.

“Why aren’t you wearing a bra?” I asked.

“The strap broke, and I decided to remove it altogether,” she replied.

Still, something was not right, and I asked to see her bra. She immediately tossed it into her hamper and said it was no big deal. I knew she had been lying, and it was then she opened up about what happened. She brought up our previous discussions about seeking out others. I knew right then where this was heading, and she went into greater detail.

“I know what I did was wrong, but it was your idea from the start!” she mentioned.

She became combative, and I replied, “I thought we were over this?” 

I know it might have been my idea, but since I hadn’t acted on it, I thought she wouldn’t either. I had no idea she would ever cross that line of infidelity, but apparently, she did. I had to know exactly what occurred, and she sat down at the edge of the bed and shared some of the details.

“Are you sure you want to hear?” she asked.

“Yes!” I demanded.

They were about to leave the hotel bar when she stayed behind for a few minutes to check her phone messages. As she was about to head out, a gentleman at the bar asked if he could buy her a drink. She at first said no thank you, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. Ann, unwilling to tell him she was married and had to get home, agreed on one drink.

The gentleman was significantly younger and had been on the prowl for some female companionship. She described him as tall and handsome, a bit cocky, and had a charm about him that was hard to resist. He had been in town on business and stayed at the hotel. They sat and chatted for about twenty minutes when he asked if she would like to return to his room. There was something special about him for Ann to be that guidable, and she headed to his room without much argument. 

When they got to his room, he immediately made out with her. He had removed her shirt and unhooked her bra, freeing her large breasts. He unbuckled her pants, slid them down along with her panties, and brought her over to the side of the bed. He bent her over the edge of the bed and dropped his pants. Ann said things were happening quickly, and he shoved his hard cock in between her inner thighs.

“I tried to slow things down, but before I could object, he had already slipped his cock deeply into me,” she said.

“He fucked me while I desperately tried to negotiate with him.”

“How big was his cock?” I sarcastically asked.

She felt embarrassed to say it but admitted it was larger when compared to mine.

“How large? I need to know!” I asked.

“Way bigger than your cock! He said his cock was a little over eight inches,” she replied.

I felt belittled, and waves of adrenalin shot through my veins. From then on, I needed to know everything.  She tried to dance around the issue and demanded she tell me everything.

“I need to know what exactly happened!” I once again said. “How did his cock feel inside you?”

“You want to know the truth? It was amazing!” she finally said.

She seemed frustrated with me at that point and once again blamed me for all of this in the first place. I told her I wasn’t the one who had cheated, but that just made her angrier.

“If you want to really know, I came all over his big cock almost immediately!” she sarcastically replied. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

It is rare for her to cum so quickly, and my heart raced at the thought of her liking his big cock. She even admitted to experiencing a very strong orgasm, but with me of late, that hasn’t been the case. on his cock. I wondered if she loved having a big cock inside her, and she shared more facts.

He had flipped her over onto her back as her legs dangled over the side of the bed. He stood inside each of her thighs and yanked her legs high over each of his shoulders. He held firmly onto her thighs and lifted her butt ever so slightly up off the bed. He rammed nearly every inch of his cock deeply into her for several minutes as Ann came again on his cock.

Ann admitted losing all control at that point, and he fucked her hard for another few minutes before moving her onto the center of the bed. I felt waves of jealousy pour over me, and my cock even got hard at the thought of another man fucking her.

Ann hadn’t been this aroused in quite some time, and he fucked her in the missionary position for the next several minutes. He then rolled her over on top of him, and Ann was now in control. She quickly felt another orgasm building, and she rammed herself hard down onto the shaft of his cock for the next few minutes. She admitted to cumming yet again for at least the third time before he moved her onto all fours. My heart sunk to new lows, and I wondered how long did this guy fuck her for.

She apparently had been on all fours with her ass high into the air as he mounted her from behind. He held firmly onto her hips and rocked them back n forth on his cock. Ann has a nearly perfect body for being fucked from behind, and it is easily her favorite position. The gentleman rammed nearly every inch of his cock deeply into her for the next twenty minutes or so. She said she had never been fucked so hard and admitted screaming out with every thrust of his cock.

“What did you scream out?” I asked.

“Fuck me! Fuck me harder!” she told me.

Ann loves to be pounded from behind, but I had never seen her act in such a manner as described. She screamed out yet again into another earth-shattering orgasm before her body fell flat onto the bed in sheer exhaustion. She now laid there spread eagle, and she was at a point of not being able to take much more. It was then he fucked for another few minutes or so. He then came all over the cheeks of her ass before getting up off the bed. Reality now set in, and Ann finally realized what she had done. She quickly gathered her things and left quickly without putting her bra back on. 

I lay there on the bed, stunned and shocked, and I felt waves of jealousy come over me. I thought I knew my wife, but after being together for more than thirty years, I was apparently wrong. I saw her in a different light, and she felt embarrassed by what she had done. She admitted things got out of hand, but it was still my fault.

“You were the one that cheated!” I said yet again.

“It was your idea from the start! I am sure you would have done the exact same thing if you had the chance.”

She might have been right about that, but I was not the one who did anything. We both seemed to have our own opinions on exactly what had happened, and there was no reason to go on. The effects of a larger cock definitely influenced her to cum more than once, and I wondered if I had opened Pandora's box.

The next morning, I pondered, "Whose fault is this? Was she wrong for what she did, or was I the one who was at fault?”

She wrote it off as a one-time mistake, never to happen again, but I truly wonder how sincere she really was. She had admitted so many things that I had no idea what the truth was. I learned so much and had to move on no matter what we thought. It left many questions without answers, and we needed to move forward.

I know this all started as simple as bringing up an open marriage nearly a year ago, but the question remains: who’s at fault? My wife or me.