Summer managed to get Harry undressed, cleaned up, and into bed, where he lay, somewhat delirious from the fever in his body and brain. The thought of it being a dream briefly entered his mind, but it was far too real to be cooked up in his feverish mind. He eventually calmed down and fell asleep.

Not wanting to think about what had happened, she quickly cleaned things up before getting dressed to pick up the kids at school. As she waited in the car line, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry’s suit pants she’d put away for dry cleaning, having found a wet cum stain in the crotch. Not sure what it was at first, she checked his underwear, where the nature of the stain was more obvious. However, she still couldn’t fathom how or when it had happened.

Those thoughts, combined with the exciting memory of all she did with Scott, had her reeling. How would she talk to Harry about it? Would she not be able to see Scott anymore? Why did Harry watch them for twenty minutes when it had to be obvious what they were doing when he arrived? And most of all, how did he cum in his pants!? With his ancient attitudes about sex, she assumed he’d never masturbated, but perhaps she was wrong.

The balance of the day passed with caring for their kids and getting them entertained, fed, and to bed. Harry slept through dinner and the night, with Summer joining him eventually, though sleep eluded her. Those same thoughts still tumbled around in her brain with no progress in resolving any of them. Resigned to the fact that she and Harry would have to sort it out together, she finally fell asleep well past midnight.

The morning found Harry still sleeping though somewhat fitfully. Summer got up and went through her well-practiced morning routines with thoughts of Harry frequently intruding. It wasn’t until she’d returned from the morning school run that she sat with a cup of coffee, rehashing the same questions with the same lack of answers.

Making sure Harry was still fast asleep, she texted Scott, asking him to call her, and her phone rang minutes later.

“Are you okay, Summer?” he asked with genuine concern. This was a new situation for him, and he feared what sort of retribution Harry might have wrought, accepting that he knew very little about the man.

“As okay as I can be. Harry’s been sleeping since yesterday, so we haven’t talked.”

The conversation was strained as they avoided the conclusion they’d both come to: that their relationship, such as it was, was over. She almost told him about Harry’s pants but decided there was no point in it and kept it to herself. Summer was tearing up again as they tried to say goodbye, afraid it might be the last time.

“I’m still here if you need to talk,” he said finally, which she took as since we can’t continue what we were doing, and she started crying as they hung up.

She was still crying when Harry walked into the kitchen.

“Harry! Should you be up?” she asked, falling naturally into concerned wife mode.

“I’m hungry,” he replied simply and sat at the kitchen table with her.

Summer jumped up to make him some dry toast and juice to calm his stomach, but she couldn’t avoid thinking, "Here it comes," whatever it was. She placed the food before him, and he ate slowly.

“Harry, I’m sorry,” she felt she had to say, though her heart wasn’t totally in it.

“Are you? I am too, I guess,” he offered without explanation, but she took it as him, seeing he’d driven her to it. “I have some questions,” he said as though asking permission to pose them to her.

“Of course,” she replied, steeling herself for well-deserved verbal abuse.

“You really like all those things you were doing?”

“Yes,” she answered, having decided that honesty was the best policy at this juncture.

“Those were the kind of things you were trying … trying to get me to do?” he asked, avoiding her eyes and staring at his toast.

“Not necessarily all those things,” she said, almost adding honey, her usual term of endearment, but afraid it would sound insincere.

“He spanked you?” he asked, looking at her finally with disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Was he punishing you, or do you like that as well?”

“I … I like it,” she said, again choosing honesty.

“Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yes. It does. And the hurt feels good.”

“Are you some kind of sadist?” he accused, again showing his dated beliefs.

“I don’t know. Maybe. It’s not as unusual as you think, Harry,” she defended. “It’s actually how Scott …” she started, intending to tell him how it began with Scott, but opted for just answering his questions without adding anything.

“And he likes … doing it to you?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a minute or so, seemingly trying to process this, to him, stunning information. She was a little relieved he didn’t seem to be showing any anger and fostered some hope of coming through this. He finally looked into her eyes, and she could see tears forming.

“Do you love him?” he asked the ultimate question.

“No! We’re just really good friends. I love you, Harry!” she replied, hoping it sounded as sincere as she meant.

He looked at her briefly, trying to assess the truth in her statement, but then got up and walked away. She heard him sniffle as he walked down the hall to their bedroom, prompting her tears to flow as well.

She felt horrible about the way this had all come about, but not giving up on what she wanted, she held fast to her belief that his antiquated attitudes about sex were what started all this. Still, she was surprised at how strongly she felt when she said she still loved him.

She really did. In addition to the fact that she did not doubt his love for her, that he was the father of their children and their life up until recently had seemed idyllic, she still loved him for all the qualities she’d seen in him when they married.

Even so, she still couldn’t see them returning to their life before, with the resentment and frustration she felt for his old-fashioned views of sex. If she’d seen even a hint of interest in giving her what she wanted in this last conversation, she would have had some hope, but there was nothing but disdain for her desires. Her mind was in turmoil trying to reconcile these two significant aspects of her life; she loved her husband, but she needed more, much more from their intimacy.

Harry returned to bed, only slightly more enlightened about what had happened. He tried to feel indignant about it but knew he shared some blame for her looking elsewhere for what she wanted. And then there was this issue of having been aroused in a way he’d never felt before while watching them.

His mind went to the memory of all he’d seen her do. Sitting on his face pushing her vagina into his mouth. Putting his penis inside her and bouncing atop him while they … they ‘fucked,’ he thought, the vulgar word seeming to apply. And then there was the spanking, which he’d only seen a small part of, but he heard her begging him to ‘Spank me!’ Recounting all the other dirty talk he’d heard in her voice, he was shocked when his arousal grew to the point of a full erection.

He tried to put it all out of his mind and go back to sleep. He was still not well and exhausted, but the soundtrack wouldn’t stop playing in his head. ‘How do you do that to me’ and ‘You feel so good inside me’ echoed in his ears, and when ‘Spank me!’ was added to the repertoire, he found his hand, almost involuntarily, rubbing his penis.

“Oh, my God!” he said as he got out of bed, heading for the bathroom, just in time to ejaculate in the toilet, where he sat breathing heavily and in total disbelief at what he’d done – again. He went back to bed, this time without the fantasy playing in his head, and slept.

When he woke, the memory of his masturbation and what prompted it came to him almost immediately. He wasn’t quite as alarmed about it, but it still troubled him.

He returned to work the following day, Friday, after getting assurances from Summer that Scott would not be coming over in his absence. Apart from that brief interaction, they barely spoke as he tried to sort out his feelings.

Summer walked on eggshells around him, not wanting to antagonize him any further and knowing he needed time, but the worry that her life was about to come crashing down never left her, and she often cried when the worst scenarios played in her mind. By Saturday night, she felt she couldn’t take it anymore and confronted him, getting rebuffed with an "I need more time" response.

On Sunday, she got the silent treatment and dreaded the week ahead when he’d be traveling again. How was she going to make it to his return? Would he even talk to her then? She realized he had a lot to sort out but wasn’t aware of his new quandary.

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of his sweet Summer grinding her vagina on Scott’s face and bouncing on his penis until she came both times. He wondered if he’d somehow changed into some kind of sex fiend.

To test his theory, he tried watching some porn while Summer was at the playground with the kids. At first, he tried just straight sex, and that didn’t do anything for him. He wondered if that specific act was what did it. It was so foreign to him that he didn’t even know what to call it, and it took a while to find ‘facesitting’ videos. Again, no reaction. Another search for ‘cock riding’ proved no more revealing.

Lying in bed that night, while Summer flitted around the room, putting clothes away, undressing, and slipping on the nightgown he considered his favorite, he felt that arousal again. Slipping his hand under the sheet, he felt himself getting harder. He’d always considered Summer a beautiful woman, but just seeing her never got him excited like this. Well, seeing her and imagining her abusing Scott’s body for her own gratification.

Finally, she got in bed, but as he hadn’t said a word to her all day, she wouldn’t try now, rolling away from him on her side to sleep. Hearing her soft breathing and slight movements beside him was conjuring up that image again of her taking what she wanted from her lover. He tried to imagine himself beneath her in that way, as he’d seen in some of the videos. His reaction was one of disgust, which fit his normal M.O., but the minute he was again a spectator, his arousal snowballed.

He stayed in bed with his hand on his penis as long as he could, but eventually, he knew he had to have a release and headed for the bathroom quietly. He wasn’t sure if Summer was sleeping yet, so he tried to keep quiet as he stroked himself to another satisfying, though confusing, climax.

He left for the airport early the next morning before anyone was up, still trying to figure out what was happening to him.

To say Summer was frustrated was an understatement of epic proportions. The sex she got from Harry was rarely satisfying, but now she wasn’t even getting that. She thought of Scott and quickly put the idea of another rendezvous out of her head, but she felt talking to him might help.

"Will you call me when you get a chance?" she texted him with a crying emoji at the end. The message revived thoughts of his beautiful, sexy, naughty Summer, and knowing he shouldn’t be thinking of her that way, he ignored it.

"I just want to talk," she texted again with a confused emoji.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call before. I probably shouldn’t say I miss you so much, but I don’t want to be responsible for any more trouble in your life.”

“I’m going crazy, Scott. He won’t talk to me. He just goes on as though nothing has happened but doesn’t say a word!”

She gave him a synopsis of the days since their deception had been exposed, though it didn’t add to her first comment on the state of affairs.

“There’s something else about that day I haven’t told you. When I was putting his clothes away, I found a sticky wet stain in the crotch of his suit pants. There was even more in his underwear!”

“Are you telling me he came in his pants? What, while watching us?”

“That’s the only conclusion I can come to,” she replied.

“Wow! So he jerked off while watching his wife, um, you know,” he said, not wanting to describe it any more than that.

“Scott, he doesn’t jerk off! Ever! I wonder if he even knows the meaning of the word masturbate!”

“I don’t know what to say,” Scott responded, and the call ended shortly after as neither of them knew what else to say or make of his unusual behavior.

Harry struggled through the week, avoiding any of the usual after-hours social activities, wanting only to return to his room and think about Summer having sex with Scott. He tested his theories with porn again, with the same reaction. As the week wore on, the memory faded to the point of barely getting a rise out of him at all.

When he returned home on Friday, he was happy to see Summer, and he gave her a warm hug and loving kiss before sitting at the kitchen table. She was delighted with his greeting and offered him a beer, a frequent practice when he returned from his travels.

Watching her moving about the kitchen and preparing dinner, he started getting fired up again. Her tiny skirt just barely hid her panties, and her tight top enhanced the sight of her tits. He imagined her not wearing panties and then sitting on Scott’s face right on the kitchen floor before him. His agitation was getting to the point where he couldn’t hide it, and the image of her riding him sent him running from the room.

Summer was busy and only noticed he’d left when she’d asked how his trip had gone, and didn’t get a response. She called out to him, but he didn’t answer. Afraid he might have gotten sick again, she took the pots off the stove and went looking for him.

She called his name a couple of times as she searched the house, the last place to look being their bathroom. As she approached, she heard the sound of heavy breathing, and fearing he was in some kind of medical trouble, she barged into the bathroom.

“Harry!? What are you doing!?” she cried, finding him on the toilet jacking off. She ran from the room in shock, not wanting to hear his answer.

She returned to the kitchen and tried to finish making dinner. Somehow, she managed something edible, and only the kids commented on it being yucky while she and Harry were silent again.

The evening progressed with all the usual kid activities, getting them bathed and into bed while Summer tried to make sense of the situation. She wouldn’t be put off again and calmed down a bit when Harry offered her a glass of wine and a seat so they could talk.

“I’m sorry to surprise you like that, Summer,” he started while she just listened. “Something in me has changed; I don’t know what, but I do know how.” He paused to give her a chance to speak and continued when she didn’t. “Seeing you and Scott like that …”

He went on to explain the feelings he’d had over the last week, being brutally honest about what he’d done on his own, including the porn and how he’d reacted to it, or rather didn’t react to it.

“So let me get this straight,” she began, “Seeing me doing these things excites you, but doesn’t make you want to do them with me?”

“Yes. I know that sounds strange, but …”

“So what do you want to do about it?”

“I do love you, Summer, and I’ll try to show it better, but I can’t see myself doing those things I saw and the other stuff I didn’t.”

“Like the spanking?”

“Especially the spanking!”

“So where does that leave us, Harry? To me, it seems we’re back in exactly the same position as before, where I want so much more from our intimacy, and you’re unwilling to try any of it. I don’t know if I can go on like that,” she said, her eyes watery.

“I love you so much, Summer, and I don’t want to lose you,” he started and paused, preparing for his next proclamation. “So, if that’s what you really want, then … then I’m okay with you getting it from Scott.”

The shock was visible on her face. She wouldn’t have guessed in her wildest dreams that her husband would suggest she keep a lover to satisfy her sexually. Now, she was in the land of foreign ideas. Stunned to silence, she just sat, trying to process it.

“Summer? What’s wrong? I thought that would please you!” Harry said when he felt someone had to say something.

“I … I need some time to think about this,” she said as she got up and went to the kitchen. “Not now, Harry,” she said when he followed her.

Her thoughts were scrambled by his astonishing offer, but she tried to sort them out. She loved him; that was for sure. She tried to find a downside to the suggestion. It sounded as though she could have her cake and eat it too, but she wondered at his motivation, concluding that he must love her more than she’d given him credit for, wanting her to get from another man what he couldn’t or wouldn’t provide.

She felt she ought to tell Scott about it, wondering, or worrying actually, that he’d want no part of it. Recalling one of his last statements to her, that he’d missed her so much, she was afraid he might have more serious feelings for her than she had for him. If they resumed their sexual escapades, would she be put in a position of having to choose between them at some point?

“It’s good to hear your voice, Summer,” he said when she’d called him Saturday morning, “but you sound worried.”

“Harry and I had a long talk last night,” she said, leaving that hanging to see his reaction.

“That’s good, right?”

“Scott, if I left Harry, could we … I mean, would you want to …” she stammered, not wanting to come right out and ask it and wondering whether he would.

“Oh! Um. I … I don’t know. I just thought we …” he replied, also fumbling for words.

“No, that’s good, Scott! I was afraid you might have stronger feelings about me, but I really do love Harry, and I don’t want to leave him.”

“So why the subterfuge?”

She told him all that had happened, saving the final bomb for last.

“What? Wow! He’s actually given you permission to continue with me!?”

“Yes. He won’t do those things with me, but he knows how badly I want it, having cheated on him to get it. I can’t see it as anything but an amazing gift to give me what I need at the expense of his manhood.”

“Are you going to … accept this gift?” he asked, hoping she’d say yes, as he was honest when he said he’d missed her, but he hadn’t said how much he missed the fantastic sex. At the moment, he was a confirmed bachelor with no thoughts of commitment, and here was an opportunity to have his cake and eat her, too.

“Are you okay with it?” she started, and with a suggestive voice, added, “Being my boy toy?”

“Yes. I am. And you’d better watch it, young lady, or you’ll end up over my knee getting that gorgeous bottom of yours spanked!”

“Oh, my God, Scott! When?”

They made a plan for later in the week after more teasing on the phone, leaving both of them highly aroused and happier than they’d been in weeks.

Summer waited till the evening to tell Harry about it, pleased to see a smile as his reaction. He surprised her by suggesting they go to bed early, and she agreed joyfully.

They didn’t add anything to their usual Saturday night sex routine, but whether real or imagined, it did seem that Harry was more attentive, taking his time rather than rushing to coitus. They lay together in the glowing aftermath of their lovemaking, both excited and worried about the future they were about to embark on.

Harry left for the week as usual, knowing what his wife was going to do on Thursday and already aroused by it.

Summer bounced through the week anticipating her lunch with Scott, where the only thing they’d eat would be each other. Thursday seemed so far away, and more than once, her large dildo was stuffed in her pussy, pretending it was Scott.

Thursday arrived, and he walked to her house with a spring in his step. Harry may understand why he was there, but the neighbors wouldn’t, so they agreed that he still shouldn’t drive there. The door opened as if by itself, and when it closed, Summer was standing there in a pretty pair of matching bra and panties.

They fell into each other’s arms and kissed like they hadn’t seen each other in months.

“What would my sexy Summer like to do first?” he asked as they practically ran to the bedroom.

“I wanna get spanked! Like a naughty little girl, over your knee on my bare bottom!” she pled as she climbed on the bed. Seconds later, she was lifting her hips off his lap, begging for the pain/pleasure of his spanking hand.

Without the weight of deceit upon them, they felt liberated and approached each new act with renewed vigor. She came three times before getting off his face and returned the favor, making him cum twice with his cock in her mouth.

By that time, Summer was ready for another spanking and, after a short stint with his hand, begged to feel the additional pain of the hairbrush. Scott went easy at first, but she soaked it up even after bruises started to form.

Standing on the bed with him kneeling below her, he squeezed and spanked her sore cheeks while she squatted on his face until she screamed through another orgasm, after which she wanted to be fucked hard. On all fours, she waved her bruised ass in his face and insisted he use the hairbrush to torture her ass further while he pounded her pussy. He came in her cunt, got sucked back to hardness, and then came a second time in her ass.

They were insatiable, and only the alarm she set to pick up the kids at school stopped them. Exhausted but enormously satisfied, Scott said goodbye and walked home for a quick shower before returning to work.

Summer had a perpetual smile plastered on her face the rest of the day. Even on Friday she was unabashedly happy as she actually looked forward to Harry’s return that evening.

Harry had a productive week, which he attributed to his elevated state of mind. Thoughts of Summer with Scott were never far from his mind, and he took an extended lunch on Thursday to be alone in his hotel room, imagining what they were doing at that very moment.

He returned home to a passionate greeting from Summer and a candlelight dinner for just the two of them. They talked like they had before, her about the kids’ latest accomplishments and exploits and him about his week. They drank a final toast to each other before heading to the bedroom.

Barely in the room, Summer slipped her simple floral print dress off to reveal Harry’s favorite satin lavender bra and panties. Trying not to be too forward, she helped him slowly undress, surprised at his light blue satin boxers instead of his usual tighty-whiteys. She smiled lovingly, put her arms around him, and kissed him softly, gently, not wanting to push too hard or have him feel threatened. He was making more of an effort.

They sat on the edge of the bed, just holding hands and looking at each other.

“Did you and Scot …?” he asked, leaving the question open-ended.

“Yes. Do you want to know more?” she asked, suspecting it would excite him like seeing them had.

“Yes. You were … here on this bed?”

“Mm-hm,” she said with a hand on his knee and the other stroking his arm.

“What … what did you do first?” he asked nervously.

“He spanked me. For being such a naughty wife,” she added, stretching the truth.

“Hard?”

“Very hard. He used a hairbrush, Harry!” she said with a pout.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little. Wanna see?”

He nodded, and she stood, pulled her panties down, and turned around, her bruised cheeks inches from his face. He groaned after a sharp intake of breath. She pulled them back up and sat beside him, one leg draped over his, noticing his raging erection.

“Did you … sit on his face? And his …”

“His cock? Oh yes! Several times,” she replied, avoiding embellishment and letting him guide the conversation.

“Summer?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I want you! So bad!”

“I want you too, Harry! Make love to me!” she said, making a clear distinction between making love with her husband versus getting fucked by Scott.

They fell back on the bed together and repeated much of what they’d done the prior weekend, Summer realizing it was different, special, and so much better than before.

“I love you, Summer,” he whispered in her ear as she lay against his chest with his arm draped possessively over her before surrendering to sleep.

“I love you too, Harry!”

--===<<<O>>>===--

Will Harry and Summer be able to live with this new arrangement, or will things change again? More coming so stay tuned! Please remember to 'Like' and/or 'Favorite' my story if you liked it and Thanks For Reading!