It took me a while to work up the courage to tell my wife, Nora, how much it turned me on to imagine her with other guys. I never really knew myself until one otherwise unassuming day when she offhandedly pointed out a guy in a restaurant as someone she had previously dated. I had feigned shock when she said it and suggested we leave immediately, abandoning our burgers and fries mid-meal in embarrassment. But she just rolled her eyes and laughed it off, and we went back to eating. That was the end of it for her — but not for me.

I had given the guy a quick once over when she had clocked him and thought he didn’t seem like anything noteworthy: tall and a bit gangly with curly hair. However, that night I had a dream about them. We were all in our living room sitting and casually chatting. Except Nora was completely naked and riding up and down her ex’s cock. He and I were fully clothed, save for his member, which stuck out from the fly of his khaki shorts. And from my vantage point, I could clearly see Nora’s pussy stretched around his shaft as she pumped herself onto him, all the while laughing and joking like nothing peculiar was going on.

That’s all I really remember, but I woke up the next morning with the biggest hard-on and couldn’t help jerking off in the shower thinking about it.

From that day on, the idea of Nora with someone else regularly filled my thoughts.

It might seem odd, but her cheating never fully crossed my mind. It was part of it, sure, but I was more focused on the notion of her having sex. The concept of her as a sexual entity.

Don’t get me wrong; she wasn’t some sort of prude with the fantasy about painting her in a contrary light. Nor was she any kind of slut and it thereby emphasized her indulging in uncontrollable urges. No, she, like so many other women in real life, was just ordinary. She had slept with eight guys in total, including me, and five of them were long-term boyfriends of at least three months. The other three were guys she had seen for a while but never really dated. That gray area between hook-up and relationship. So, all in all, rather average.

Even when it came to looks, most would call her a bit above ordinary. Naturally, I found her irresistibly sexy, but it wasn’t like she was this model-bodied girl hiding behind a shroud of modesty. Her pale blonde hair fell just past her shoulders and framed a cute face with dark brows, light green eyes, and kissable lips. And her average height and lean figure gave way to handful-sized boobs and a slim waist. All that, coupled with a nice butt and slender hips, made her someone any level-headed guy would want to sleep with, just not the type to spring instant boners from every person passing by.

That said, I loved having sex with her. I think anyone would. She looked positively delectable sprawled naked on her back or bent over on all fours, her pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. Fucking my wife was amazing but her getting fucked was orgasmic.

Maybe that’s where my fantasy found root. Thinking about other guys enjoying her in the same way, relishing having sex with her. It just got my blood pumping and my cock aching.

It took months to finally decide to surface those thoughts to her, and when the day came, I was nearly trembling in anticipation. I had planned to bring it up casually, choosing a night where she had at least two drinks in her. Nora could handle her alcohol almost as well as anyone when we first started dating, but these days a couple of the right cocktails were enough to get her pretty nice and tipsy.

I even made sure to time it to when she was already worked up: as we were lying in bed, my lips at her neck and hand cupping at her breast. That’s when I asked, “How long did you date that guy from the restaurant?”

“We didn’t really date,” she said, stretching her neck to allow my tongue a trail down its length. “We ended up not clicking and just, mm, hooked up for a while.”

Most of our clothes had long since been abandoned by the foot of the bed. Only our underwear remained on, and for my smaller-chested wife that didn’t always include a bra. I lowered my lips toward her bare breasts and asked again, “How long was a while?”

“A little... over a month.”

My lips encircled her nipple, and I smiled around the eraser-colored nub. My wife had just given me the precise opening I needed. “I guess that means the sex was pretty good then,” I said and spent a few extra moments running circles around her areola and sucking at her pink peak. “If you weren’t that into each other but kept hooking up for that long.”

“I guess, yeah, it was pretty good. Nngh.”

I continued to focus my mouth on Nora’s breasts but slid my hand down to stroke at her mound and slit from over her panties. The pair she wore covered her lips, but I teased at the edges of her folds near the hemline. “Just pretty good?”

“Ah, okay, it was... really good,” she admitted, and I pushed her panties aside to run my fingers lightly across her wetness. She panted and quivered at my touch. “Is that what you want to hear? That we liked... having sex?” Nora arched her back, two of my digits sinking into her. At the same time, I adjusted my position and pushed my steel-like erection against her hip. “Oh my god, it is. Mmph!”

I released her breast and kissed her deeply and passionately, my fingers working at her pussy. “I think it’s hot hearing about you having sex, yes. Even with this other guy.” I pumped into her, her increasing wetness allowing me to glide in and out with ease. She moaned and reached her hand down to grasp at my dick, feeling its hardness and stroking me through the fabric of my boxers. “I bet he probably wanted to get his dick in you on the first date.”

“He almost got to,” Nora hissed, my cock throbbing in her grip. “If I had a few more drinks in me he would have. Instead, all he got was this.”

I bowed my head and moaned. My wife’s hand had expertly slipped me free of my underwear and she frantically jerked me off, her fist fapping at my stiff prick.

We fingered and fondled each other, imagining in the quiet her doing the same with her ex.

I pictured them like in the dream that kickstarted everything: him fully clothed with his cock sticking out from his shorts and Nora completely naked with her tits and pussy out in the open for him to see. Precum leaked from my tip as I fantasized about her spreading her legs open while pistoning her hand up and down his length.

“When did it eventually happen?”

“Fourth date,” she gasped. “It took a night at the theatre and half a bottle of wine, but he finally got his dick in my mouth... and in my twat.”

I jammed my fingers inside of her, all the way to the last knuckle, and her hips leapt off the bed to meet me. We were both fully fired up, burning with desire. Yanking her panties from her legs, I shimmed my boxers down mine and positioned my tip at her entrance. Nora groaned along with me as I gradually sank all seven inches of my rock-hard cock into her. “Tell me about it,” I said and began rhythmically pumping in and out of her.

“We fucked just like this,” she said, eyes closed and voice heavy with arousal. “Missionary style. We were both naked and I was blowing him when he pushed me back by the shoulders and laid me onto the bed. He then got between my legs and, ah, pushed himself into me.” Her breaths had picked up in speed, my thrusts growing faster. “My arms were around his neck, and he fucked me, mm, nice and slow to start. He was about your size, long and thick, and it took me a minute to get used to him. But once we got into it, ah, we were panting and moaning, and he was, ungh, spreading me open, fucking me good.”

Our hips noisily and steadily slapped together, our lovemaking enthusiastic and passionate. I don’t know if my cock ever felt as hard as it did, like a thick slab of granite plunging into the soaking hot wetness of my wife’s pussy. The same pussy she was telling me about another guy filling, another guy enjoying. I imagined what she described — the two of them in each other’s arms and having sex just like we were — and had to force myself to keep from cumming.

“How many times did you have sex with him?”

“Only slightly over a handful.” Nora bit her lip and gazed up at me with lust-lidded eyes. She looked so unbelievably sexy in that moment, so cock-achingly hot, that I wanted every guy in the world to fuck her just so they could experience it. “But I was on the pill, so I let him cum in me every single time.”

That statement pushed me over the edge and with a strangled cry, I buried myself deep into my wife and exploded.

Nora’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, my sudden eruption driving her to a body-contorting orgasm. It was like a bolt of lightning struck me and immediately coursed through her, joining us in an electric moment of climax. With jet after jet of jizz, I emptied myself into her and her spasming walls milked me dry. Once the current left us, we collapsed next to each other, gasping for breath.

“You really liked hearing about that, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” I nodded and lay on my back. “That was so fucking hot. It made me want to fuck you senseless.”

“Mmm.” Nora turned onto her stomach and placed her chin on my shoulder. Giving me a cheeky smile, she reached down and laid her hand on the underside of my deflating dick. “If that’s the case, then I’ll gladly tell you about every single time a cock has been in my hand, inside my mouth, and...” she leaned forward, kissing my lips and whispering, “fucking my pussy.”

True to her word, in the following weeks and months, I learned every minute detail of Nora’s sex life. Every sordid encounter from her sexual history was relayed to me like a perverse audiobook that I wanted to listen to for hours straight. From her first college boyfriend, who she jerked off in a corner of the library after a late night of studying, to the junior year frat boy, who got her to suck him off in his car before heading into a party. Even the only guy she ever had anal sex with, disliking it so much she swore never to do it again, and the one she dated for four months that never once came inside her but instead blew his load all over her body.

I learned the exact size, shape, and ranking of each and every dick that Nora had touched, sucked, and fucked since she started dating ten years ago.

I knew that the frat boy was the smallest but that she went down on him a lot, and that he enjoyed it immensely. Not that I could blame him. My wife looked so sinfully hot with her slim lips bobbing up and down the first four inches of my cock. I could only imagine the arousal-inducing effect of those same lips slinking all the way down and meeting the base of my dick.

I also knew that while Curly Hair and I were both the biggest she ever had, I still ranked as the best sexual partner. Her first college boyfriend came in a close second, though. Nora admitted that a lot of her feelings about him were attributed and tied to the fact that he was her longest relationship — other than me — at two and a half years, but because of this, I especially enjoyed hearing about the times he fucked her.

She shared the CliffsNotes version of losing her virginity, which I didn’t mind since first times are almost never as sexy or erotic as stories like you to believe. But she told me all about them having sex for the second time in her dorm room: lying in her bed facing each other, her slender leg draped across his thigh, his hips rocking and gently pumping his average but girthy dick into her pussy, both of them trying to keep the noise to a minimum so they didn’t disturb her sleeping roommate. Picturing them in that position and the way she described cumming in quiet gasps from him sliding in and out of her tightness made my own cock stiff as steel.

That secretive early encounter, however, greatly contrasted the last time they had sex, minutes after deciding to break up.

Emotions high and with dried tears on her cheeks, they had launched themselves at one another with an animalistic hunger for one final fuck. Their lips smacked together. Their hands tore at each other’s clothes. He snapped the strap of her tank top, freeing one of her tits; she broke his zipper yanking his jeans open; and she growled at him, “rip it apart” when he reached under her skirt toward her underwear. She still remembered the sound of her panties tearing and the fierceness with which his cock penetrated her.

They had fucked frantically and savagely, still in their ravaged clothes, grunting and screaming in ecstasy until they both climaxed harder than they ever had before.

That particular story landed in my top three. The details painted a picture of my wife like I’d never seen her. The ferocity of it all, plus the idea of her ex pounding her pussy while she still wore the tatters of her panties and ruined top, made my heart pound and my cock throb. We even reenacted the scene a few times, though we had to stop after destroying too many of her clothes.

My two other favorites involved different guys.

The first was Nora’s only one-night stand. Or rather, one-morning stand. It happened a couple of months before meeting Curly Hair, about a year after her last breakup.

She had driven out of town for her friend Stacy’s birthday party and crashed at Stacy’s place along with a couple of others. During the party, she met this guy with dark eyes and dark hair and spent a good chunk of the night talking with him. They made out for a little bit but ended up just falling asleep next to each other under a blanket on the ground, the alcohol from throughout the evening making them drowsy. In the haze of sleep, she had thought it was just a missed moment and shrugged it off. But the next day, she awoke to find his morning wood pressing against her butt. And after a year of not getting any, she grew lightheaded over the feeling of that semi-hard prick.

Turning around, Nora saw he was also awake and reached down to slip her hand under his pajamas. She wrapped her fingers around him and jerked him to full hardness. Then, without a word, she crawled on top of him and bit her lip as he slowly sank into her.

They fucked in silence, her legs straddling him and her tits against his chest. At one point, she heard someone walking around but neither of them stopped their rhythm, continuing to have sex from their spot on the floor at the edge of the sofa. The blanket shielded everything below their shoulders, but between her lying on top of him and the movements underneath the cover, it was obvious what they were doing. Whoever had walked by knew she was getting fucked right there in the open. The kinkiness of it all thrilled her — and me.

My final favorite wasn’t so much a specific instance but the concept of something.

For the entire time I had known my wife, from our early days of dating to now, she had always kept her pubic hair trimmed into a triangle. The style left a light patch of dark hair right above her folds that contrasted the blonde on her head in a way that I found particularly alluring. However, she only adopted this look after breaking up with a guy she dated right after college. Prior to him, she used to shave completely bare. With him, much to my surprise, she sported a more natural style.

It was a couple of months into their relationship when he had admitted his preference for girls with more hair down there. The revelation had stunned Nora a bit — almost every guy she knew enjoyed the hairless appearance, even if she didn’t personally — but she jumped at the excuse to shave less often and decided to give him what he wanted, letting her bush grow out for the first time in her life.

Following how intensely he fucked her once she revealed the thicket of soft curls blanketing her mound and lips, she had committed to keeping the style for the entirety of their relationship. It wasn’t until a few months after they split up that she trimmed it down to where she now normally maintained it.

Two things tantalized me about that story. The first was my wife’s willingness to do something she usually didn’t for a guy she liked, to dive into a new experience just to please him. I was living that reality myself and loved it. The other was the intriguing visual of Nora with a fur-covered snatch. She’d previously gone bare in a lingerie set on my birthday two years ago, but I had never seen her go the other way. So, obviously, I asked her to.

In the weeks when my wife strutted around with a forest between her slender thighs, sex hit another new high. Physically, I found the novelty of the new addition to her nude body provocative. The dark brown curls that she shaped into a sort of reverse teardrop — both of us preferring a semi-natural versus full natural look — differed sharply from the pale locks on her head, drawing your eyes right to her pussy. And the way they hid her lips made my cock disappearing inside of her even more erotic.

Emotionally, however, is where the real perversity lay. I just kept thinking, 'This was how my wife looked when another guy was enjoying sex with her.' The knowledge of someone else having had the pleasure of experiencing her in this way was always at the heart of everything. And it turned our own sex life scorching hot.

Because throughout the many months’ worth of stories she relayed to me, we fucked our way through every single one of them. Hearing her tell me about how she pumped her hand up and down an ex’s dick in his bedroom or the way a different ex’s cock stuffed her mouth or the position one of them liked to fuck her in, filled me with a depraved energy that supercharged our lovemaking.

In turn, Nora learned to enjoy sharing these stories as much as I did listening to them. What started as my personal fetish had morphed into our shared kink. And it had unquestionably improved our bedroom proclivities. Although we weren’t suddenly fucking daily, we had moved from sex twice a week to double that amount. And in the days from one session to the next, we both thought about and anticipated the next time.

Eventually though, the metaphorical well ran dry. It was unavoidable, and in the back of my mind, I knew the day would come when we’d run through all of Nora’s hookups. She only had so many, and with an average partner count, it wasn’t like she’d be seductively narrating bobbing her face on a former boyfriend’s cock for over a year.

We revisited many of my favorites, and I even personally got off a few times on things like a guy out there somewhere being the only person to ever experience having his dick in my wife’s ass or picturing all the places on Nora’s body that other guy came on: her face, tits, butt, stomach, back, even her feet. But there was no question that a slowdown neither of us wanted was approaching.

Which, of course, led to the inevitable.

To be continued...