The Letter

This seemed to be a typical Saturday, with Mr. Dawson mowing his lawn and the boys playing basketball in the driveway. I loved the way the sun warmed my face as I stepped beyond the shadows of the house. I thought how this was a perfect day to celebrate our fifteenth wedding anniversary. Well, it would have been except for the fact that Dave had been called away at the last minute to settle a labor problem in their east coast branch—something about a pending strike. It was unusual for him to travel, but who am I to complain? Dave has always provided well for me and the kids. I've been blessed to have all we do.

The mail box was full. I sorted it out as I walked back into the house. The damp grass felt wonderful squeezing through my toes. Our mail mostly consisted of advertisers and some utility bills. Hmmm... what's this? A letter from David? Probably an anniversary card. He was always thoughtful that way. I couldn't remember him ever missing an anniversary or birthday for me and the kids.

I filed the junk mail in the trash compactor and poured myself a cup of coffee. Sitting at the kitchen bar, I started to tear open Dave’s letter, when Robby popped his head in the door and asked, “Mom, can Rick and I go to the park? Allen says there's a pickup game.”

"Don't you want me to fix you two some lunch?”

“Naw, we’re good, Mom.”

“Okay, have fun. No fighting and be back before dark." I truly sound like a mom, I chuckled to myself.

I smiled, thinking how Robby and Rick were inseparable. Even though they looked identical, they were fraternal twins. They've been such a blessing to me—my little miracles. I was told after their birth I needed a partial hysterectomy because of some abnormal growth. That meant I couldn't have more children, so it was a stroke of luck I had twins. Except for having to take hormones daily, I completely recovered.

I went back to the letter and pulled out an anniversary card. It was a lovely scented card. Inside was a note, hand written, that said, 

“Thank you for being the best wife and mother any man could dream of. I love you with all my heart. See you soon. Counting the days until I'm home.
Love,
Your husband, Dave.”

Inside the envelope there was also a letter. I opened it and began to read. The first thing I noticed was the letter, like the card, was also hand written. I took a sip of coffee and began to read.

My dearest wife Jenny, 

In almost sixteen years, I can't recall ever writing you a letter before. Why am I now? It is because every time I try to bring this subject up, the words just stick in my throat.

First, I want to say I love you and need you more than air. You are everything to me. I've never ever been attracted to anyone the way I am to you. I know I've disappointed you at times but you never make me feel anything but supported and loved, even in my failures. I watch other wives nag their husbands, but you never do that because we've always had great communication. I always feel your encouragement.

So, why this letter? I've been struggling with certain issues in my life that started about five years ago—things I just recently began seeing a therapist about. It started as a passing thought and has grown into a full-fledged obsession. 

My therapist said I should talk to you about this and God knows I have tried. That is the reason I waited until I was on this two-week business trip to share what he suggested. He says I am clinically what he would classify as a Wittol. Look it up. I don't know the exact definition.
We as a couple, click on all levels. Well, almost all. The only thing I have seen lacking in our relationship is our diminishing love life. It's not anyone's fault and I'm certainly not blaming you. I think we have just grown too familiar with each other. Sex kind of went from hot and steamy to… functional….

You are probably the sexiest thirty-five year-old woman on the planet. Sometimes I watch you dress and find your body even hotter today than when we first married. So many women your age let themselves go, but not you, even after giving birth to two wonderful kids. Your total dedication to health and fitness have paid off big-time. I don't think you know how sexy you are. Which brings me back to why I wrote this letter.

About five years ago, when we used to go to the gym together, I was watching you workout in that skin-tight leotard. You know, the one you always wore to the gym that fit like a second skin. You were on the stair climber and I was using the bench press. I couldn't take my eyes off you. Your large breasts were swaying as you pumped the machine and your firm, shapely butt was perfection in motion.

I wasn't the only one that noticed you. The guy next to me saw me staring at you and said, “I'm seeing the same thing, mate. I'd give a month’s pay to get her between the sheets. If she were my woman, I couldn't keep my hands off her.”

For some reason, this stranger’s lustful admission excited me. That was the first time I ever fantasized about you being… well... with another man... but it wouldn't be the last. After that day, the seed that was planted started to grow. I began to regularly picture you with different men we know. I knew this was wrong, but I couldn't control it. The fantasies continued.

I would get angry at myself for thinking such deviant thoughts about the woman I loved, causing periods where I'd withdraw. At first, I just told myself it was nothing but a passing phase, but it grew into a full-fledged obsession. That's why I sought counseling. I figured you would find out about the therapy when you saw the checks I wrote to the therapist.

My love, I would never do anything to jeopardize our marriage. I just can't help myself. I truly have this hidden desire to see you with another man. 

There, I said it! I know when you read this, all kinds of things will go through your mind. So, to dispel any thoughts you might have that I want to be with other women, I have no such thoughts or intentions. I want none other than you. 

I've always believed your body is yours and yours alone. What you do with it is, always has been, and always will be your choice. It is an extreme privilege to be your partner in life.

I can't expect you to understand my feelings. I don’t understand them myself. I would take little events and build them into my fantasy, like the time you were dancing with Carl at the Christmas party and he was getting fresh, feeling you up. I knew we all had had too much to drink and you eventually pushed him away, but not after a substantial groping. I should have got angry and intervened, but all I could think about was what was he whispering in your ear? 

What stands out to me the most about that night was when we got home, you almost raped me. I knew the stimulation you received from Carl sparked desires in you—desires I joyfully benefited from. 

Then there was the time you were getting help from that personal trainer. I can't remember his name—the body builder. I gasped aloud when I saw him stretching you out. From the bulge he was packing, I'm sure he wanted to stretch more than your legs. I watched you giggle and flirt with him. When I saw his hands trace down your sides over your hips, I should have been furious, but strangely, it excited me and added fuel to my fantasy.

I can't imagine what you must be thinking at this point. I could keep hiding these feelings, but I wanted you to know the truth of why I'm going to therapy. I love you with every fiber of my being, and pray this does not harm our marriage.

After reading this, text me back if you want to discuss this. If you don't, dispose of this letter and I won't ever bring it up again.

Your loving, faithful husband,

David

After reading his letter the second time, I wasn't sure how to react. Should I be angry, sympathetic, disappointed or just shocked? Shocked was my initial reaction. I thought about his options and considered taking option two, to just shred this and never think about it again. However, I love Dave and I should be able to discuss anything with him. We'd always been able to work through anything.

I picked up my phone and texted him: I received your letter. More 

I waited for a response. About five minutes later, I heard my phone beep for a new text. It simply said: I’m in a meeting. We can talk at seven.

I tried to get back to my chores, but my mind was never far from that letter. It’s not every day a wife gets told her husband wants to share her with others. I took out my tablet and googled “Wittol."

It said: “Noun: wittol (plural wittols) (archaic) A man who knows, condones, and even encourages his wife's enjoyment of coitus with another man or men: a contented cuckold.”

That had to be one of the most bizarre things I'd ever read. It made no sense. What could a husband get out of his wife having sex with another man? Moreover, how could a loving wife do that?

I thought back to Dave’s example of when I was dancing with Carl. I hadn't even been aware of Dave watching, but It's good that he didn't see everything: like when I went into the kitchen and Carl followed. I'd been a bit tipsy and Carl took advantage by kissing me and groping my breasts. I had pushed him away and slapped him… eventually. And yes, I admit I was turned on.
Just past noon, the doorbell rang. It was FTD with a bouquet of roses. I put them in a vase and read through the letter again. This whole thing seemed so weird and contrary to how I knew my husband of fifteen years.

It was about four-fifteen when my phone rang. I rushed to answer and tapped that little green phone icon.

“Hey, babe," I said. "I thought you were not going to be available until seven.”

“It's after seven, my time.”

“Oh… I forgot about the time difference. I miss, you. How's it going there?”

“Miss you more," Dave replied. "Happy anniversary. These negotiations are going poorly, but that is to be expected. There is a lot of blustering in the beginning. How are the kids?”

“They are still at the park. I swear they would sleep with those basketballs if I'd let them.”

There was a pause in the conversation. We were both avoiding the elephant in the room. Then Dave asked softly, “Jen… did you get my card?”

"Yes, it was beautiful and so were the roses.” I said, avoiding what he truly wanted to know.

"Um, did you read my letter?” he asked.

I paused and hesitated at first. “Yes… several times. Dave, I don't know what to say. I was pretty shocked.”

"I figured you would be. I tried to talk about it several times but couldn't find the words. Then I decided that a letter would allow me to express all my thoughts without interruption. Can you possibly forgive me?”

“Sweetheart, what is there to forgive? What have you done besides share something you've been struggling with? We will talk more about it when you get home. I love you, big boy.”

“Hun, I need to get a bite to eat. I couldn't digest any food until we talked. And sweetheart… thank you.”

“For what?” I said.

“For being the most awesome understanding wife on earth, that's what.”

“Awwww! Flattery is going to get you everywhere. Go eat. We'll talk more later.”

"I'm gonna Subway and hit the sack. Love, you. Goodnight.”

“Sleep tight. Love you more.”

-oOo-

The next few days were normal. We talked twice a day and neither one of us broached the subject of his letter. However, there seemed to be this unspoken tension between us regarding his intentions for me. I couldn't get a handle on the whole thing. I kept my emotions in check and didn't say anything, fearing it would cause a rift between us.

I needed more information, so I decided to research this whole 'wittol' thing, but google kept referring me to "cuckold." When I clicked on cuckold, thousands of websites popped up—literally, thousands. It appeared to be a popular subject. There were support groups, porn sites, how-to manuals, story sites, hookup sites, clothing, toys… the list was endless. I was flabbergasted. It appeared that hundreds of thousands or even millions were involved in this lifestyle.

I decided to read more and find out what my husband was into. I purchased a Kindle book called Becoming a Hot-wife. Over the next couple days, I read every chance I could. I was shocked, but surprisingly aroused. I gave my vibrator a real workout while reading. 

After realizing Dave’s intentions for me, I felt becoming infatuated with the thought. Why? This was troubling to me, so I decided to talk further with Dave Thursday evening.I waited for his call but he was late. He missed his regular time. I had so many things to ask him. 

The kids were in their room playing Nintendo and I was looking at the news with my phone in lap. Soon it was time to put the kids to bed. I worried something had happened. I decided to call him. He picked up on the third ring. I could hear loud talking and music in the background.

“Hi babe! What's up?” he asked.

“Where are you? It's after midnight where you’re at.”

“Sorry, Hun, I'm in some bar. We are celebrating.”

“Celebrating what? I can hardly hear you.”

“We made a preliminary agreement pending the lawyers' review. I tell you what, let me tell the guys I'm going back to my hotel.”

“Dave, don't you dare drive!”

“No worries, princess. My hotel is across the street. I'll call you back in ten.”

"Okay. Don't walk out in front of a car! Talk soon.”

I poured a cup of coffee and stared at the clock. Ten minutes passed, then twenty... finally the buzz. I picked up immediately.

“Hi, Dave, are you alone?”

“Of course I'm alone. “What's up? You sound stressed.”

“I just miss you, David. It's lonely without you.”

“Jen, I miss you, too. But I sense there's something more, isn't there?” He could always read me.

“Yes, there is. I want to talk with you more about your letter.”

There was a pause and then he replied, “What do you want to know?”

"Why would you even think of such a thing?"

“I've been struggling with that same question for years. My therapist says those desires are not uncommon. He says it’s a universal desire for many men over a wide range of races, cultures, and economic classes. He explained that husbands tend to feel less effective as lovers as they age. In turn, that triggers a response of wanting his wife or significant other to be pleasured by another man.”

“That's nuts. You're not old, and you're a wonderful lover.”

"Be honest, Jenny. Don't you miss the passion we once shared? Remember how we couldn't keep our hands off each other? Now our love making seems like… functional maintenance.”

“Well, this is just a sign that we need to work on a few things, that's all. I would never cheat on you, no matter what. I love you.”

“I love you, too. But what I was fantasizing about was not cheating.”

“How would me making love to another man not be cheating?”

“First, you wouldn't be making love with another man, you'd just be fucking him. Making love is reserved for me. Cheating is sneaking around behind your spouse’s back. This would be with my full support and encouragement.”

“And I suppose this gives you the green light to fool around at the conferences you go on?”

“No! I already told you I'd never ever do that. I'm not even tempted. This is about you taking lovers, not me. I know it sounds nuts.”

“Yes, it does! Totally crazy! This is a lot to take in," I sighed.

“You sound upset. I apologize for upsetting you.”

“David, for a guy with a 140 intelligence quotient, you can be so incredibly dumb at times. I looked up 'wittol' and 'cuckold,' I even downloaded a book. I can't believe you want me to have unrestrained sex while you just… watch? What do you get out of this arrangement?”

“It's hard to explain.”

“This is a good time to explain, don't you think?”

“Well… I get the satisfaction of knowing you are well taken care of.”

“Bullshit! Are you wanting a divorce? Is that it? Go ahead, admit it!” I started to cry.

“No way! I don't want a divorce. I love you with every fiber of my being. I'd die without you.”

“I'm going to hang up now, David. This is too upsetting.”

“Please don't hang up. This is what I feared. Jen, I love you and I am not going to force you to have sex with another man. If you ever act on this, the choice is all yours. All I ask is that you are honest and tell me.”

“You do realize you're not playing with a full deck, buster?... So… hypothetically, how did you envision this was going to happen?”

“Well, I've never really got that far, but hypothetically speaking of course, I suppose you'd take one of those offers that I'm sure comes your way so frequently.”

“And where is this 'hypothetical rendezvous' supposed to take place? Have you considered we have two children at home?”
“Wait a second, sweetheart, are we actually planning on having this happen?”

“Of course, not! I could never in a million years cheat on you,” I said breathlessly. "However, the book I’m reading suggests to try it at least once for a trial run, then evaluate your feelings with one another before pursuing it further. How does that idea strike you?” 

“Are you serious?” He almost gasped. I could hear the hope in Dave’s voice. 

“I couldn’t possibly cheat on you," I reiterated. "We have a family. There’s too much at stake.”

“It's not cheating if I know where you are and what you’re doing. I've already said that. We're just going in circles now. Let’s sleep on it. I've got a long day tomorrow. If we can wrap up this agreement, I’ll be home Saturday.”

“Good night, crazy husband.”

“Good night, my hot wife.”

-oOo-

I attempted to sleep, but every time I tried, I was haunted by my thoughts. This whole thing had me incredibly worked up. I was now actually remembering how I was before I met David. We first saw each other in the school library. He was so handsome that my toes curled (my toes are my hot-guy barometer). When he saw that I was staring at him, he smiled. My heart melted. He sweetly asked if he could use my table. I instantly agreed, thinking he could use anything of mine. Except for a few pleasantries, we didn’t talk. From the stack of books he was reading, I could tell he was extremely intelligent. Intelligent guys turned me on. Hell, any handsome guy turned me on.

The next day, I was walking to my biology class when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned and faced this dreamboat, staring deeply into his hazel eyes.

“Excuse me, aren't you the girl from the library?”

“Yep, that's me, library girl.” I could hardly speak.

"I'm glad I found you. I think you left this on the table.” He fished out my chemistry notes from his stack of folders.

“Oh my God! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I was searching everywhere for them.” I dropped my books and gave him a hug that almost knocked him over.

After he recovered from being tackled by a crazy blonde chick, he said, “I'm David Cooper.”

“Glad to meet you, Mr. David Cooper, I'm Jennifer Maxwell.” I curtsied and lifted the hem of my skirt.

“Hahaha, you're just too cute. I've never done this before, but would you care to have dinner with me?”

“Really? You've never had dinner before?” I looked serious.

“Please tell me that you don't have a boyfriend.”

“Okay. I don't have a boyfriend,” I lied.

We were married three months later. But what David never knew was that I was a campus slut. He should have had a clue when I fucked his brains out on our first date. Dinner wasn't even that good, but I made sure his dessert was something to write home about.

We were still very much in love and apparently on the verge of a new adventure. I realized from our last conversation this had shifted from "if" to "how.” A week ago, I never would have thought I'd be thinking about possible lovers. All this hot-wife talk was igniting embers in me I thought had burned out long ago. I was becoming a girl on fire.

From what I read, a cuckold is a submissive with a little penis. Dave was neither of these. He had a beautiful cock and knew how to use it. I had no clue to why our sex had stagnated. I felt guilty for him having these feelings. What if I had been more in tune with his needs? Would that have avoided this altogether? That was all water under the bridge. I couldn't change the past.

-oOo-

Friday morning was my aerobics class. I had very little sleep but dragged myself out of bed with a new enthusiasm about staying in shape. 

I was thinking, if I went to the 6:15am class, I'd be home in time to fix breakfast for the kids. Dave had mentioned my old leotard. That was a pretty sexy thing for a soccer mom to wear. I giggled to myself as I fished it out of the bottom drawer. I stood in front of the mirror and thought, bra or no bra? I decided on my wireless sports bra. Without support, these puppies could hurt someone. I turned to my side and thought how proud I was of my firm, shapely butt.

I was a bit late for class and every eye was on me as I dropped my mat and copied the stretch they were on.

“Nice of you to join us, Ms. Cooper," Brenda, the instructor, sarcastically said. I could hear several others giggling. Fuck her, I thought. I've got the hottest body in the class and she knows it.

I had such tight hamstrings that certain stretches simply didn't work on me. James, the gym's resident aerobics instructor approached. He was an Australian Adonis in the flesh—a very pleasant man, but… oh my God, what a body. We’d been flirting for years, but today seemed different somehow.

“G’day, may I assist?” he offered. His smile, short cut blond hair, square jaw and bulging muscles remind me of a painting I once saw at a museum of a Greek god.

“That would help, I suppose. I just can't get this right.”

"A lot of women have that problem," he replied, as he held my foot and slowly stretched my leg, first one, then the other. At the same time he stretched my legs, he rubbed my feet. I was a sucker for a foot massage.

“Ouch, that's tight! Not too hard. I think I'm cramping,” I moaned, and winced when my calf started to knot.

He reached out his large hands, found the cramp in my thigh and started massaging it. As he was rubbing, I remembered why I stopped wearing these leotards. They had virtually no padding in the crotch. I became aware of my enhanced camel-toe that was getting increasingly wet. James was looking directly at my wet spot and said, “Oh, how I enjoy helping you, Mrs. Cooper.”

Staring at the increasing bulge in his shorts, I replied with a grin, “Yes, I can see that you do.” I could tell he was blushing. Either that or he had a second degree sunburn.

He continued to rub me, but it was more like he was making love to my legs. That didn’t go unnoticed by the other women. I saw more than one nasty glance of jealousy. Brenda gave James an icy stare that could have frozen a blow torch.

At the end of class I was rolling my mat up and James handed me his card, saying, “I do private training also.” His pearly white smile gave me no doubt to what he was referring. I took it from him and noticed the logo on his business card was a kangaroo lifting weights.

“I assume you're experienced working with couples?” I asked.

“Yes, ma'am, that is by far my specialty.”

“I might give you a call. Are you booked this weekend?” I was facing him with my rolled mat between us and gently wrapped my fingers around his manhood in his shorts. “Damn," I softly exclaimed.

He grinned and replied, “Eight.”

“I'm impressed.” I jutted out my chest and said, “C’s.”

He laughed. “Call me?”

“I'm thinking yes, but I need to ask my husband.”

“I know your husband—Dave, isn't it? Do you know he's the most hated bloke in this gym?”

“My Dave? Why would anyone hate him? He’s a sweetheart.”

“It’s because he is the luckiest man on the planet. He gets to go home with the prettiest sheila in the gym.”

“Play your cards right and you might be lucky yourself. After all, you already have a jump on the competition,” I added, looking at the kangaroo on his business card. “This is the first time for us—for private aerobics instruction, of course. By the way, how much are your fees?”

“Usually seventy-five an hour, but for you, I have a discount.”

“And that is?”

“How about free?”

“You made me a deal hard to refuse.” I laughed and walked away, knowing he was studying every movement of my ass.

-oOo-

After making breakfast, I called my mom and asked her to watch the boys this weekend. She readily agreed as they loved their grandsons. However, she did ask why, and I told her that David was home after a long trip and that we needed some alone time. Mom just giggled and told me she remembered those days. The boys overheard the conversation and were delighted. Their grandpa always took them skiing on the lake, and he cherished every moment he could spend with them.

So here I was, a formerly faithful wife planning to cuckold her husband, all in a week's time. I hadn't even finished the book. I guess it was going to be on the job training for this girl. Suddenly, I realized that I had just soaked through another set of panties when Dave called.

“Hi, Dave. Are you coming home tomorrow?”

“I still don't know. The attorneys are haggling over language details. It might not get signed until Monday if they don't finish today.”

“I'm so sad. That would ruin my special surprise.”

“Sorry, sweetie. Is it a surprise that can wait?”

“Not really. This was something for our anniversary that I guarantee you'll like—something you've fantasized about having for say, at least… five years?”

“Are you talking about what I think you’re talking about?” Dave sounded so exited I thought he might jump out of his own skin.

"Yes, I am. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, you managed to surprise me. I'm about ready to cum in my pants! You're not pulling my leg, are you? What brought on this sudden change of heart?”

“Sweetheart, I read your letter over and over. Then I read up on the subject. If this was important enough for you to risk everything, I thought I owed you enough to investigate it.”

“What was your conclusion?”

“Dave, the book I'm reading says that there must be complete honesty between us for this lifestyle to work. There are things you don't know about me.”

“Like?”

“...like the fact I was a total slut before I met you. I think I tried to suck every cock I could on campus. I love cocks, all shapes and sizes. I also fucked several of the guys in your fraternity. I'm so sorry I hid the truth from you. However, after we were married I tried with every fiber of my being to live up to our vows. I love being a wife and mother. I don't miss my previous promiscuous life.”

“Jennifer, I knew your whole history. Do you really believe I'd marry you without checking you out?”

"You knew? Why didn't you say something?”

“One of the the things that attracted me to you was that you were this insatiable wild girl. But when I saw you try so hard to be a good wife, I loved you too much to say anything.”

“Dave, we are going to have fun when you get home. I adore you. All this time you wanted the girl I hid away. Well, you've opened Pandora's box. I hope you don't regret it.”

“What is your plan, Jen? Give me the details. I love you. You know that, don't you?”

“I love you too. Do you remember James, the trainer from the gym?”

“Yeah, that big Aussie body-builder. Is he your date?”

“Dave! He's not a date. He's just going to fuck me, and you get to watch. That is, if you get home in time.”

“Sweetheart, I don't want you to cancel if I don't make it home on time. In fact, it might be better for you the first time if I'm not there. You'll be more relaxed and enjoy yourself more. By the time I get home, you'll know if this is what you want.”

“Dave, this was our anniversary present. I have it all arranged with Mom to take the kids until Wednesday. It won't be the same without you. But there is one way you can be involved and make it special. I'm going to text you James’ number. I want you to call and ask him to fuck me. It is important to me that you make this symbolic gesture—kind of like giving the bride away. Once you make that phone call, there is no going back.”

“Okay, I got your text. Is this what you want? I hope you don't feel pressured.”

“Make the damn phone call already. If you don't, I'll fuck the mailman or pizza boy.”

“Ha-ha!… I'll be right back.”

After what seemed like an eternity, which was less than a half hour, David called back.

“Hi, how did it go?” I waited with anticipation.

“Well, we talked and he decided he's not coming over.”

“What? Why?”

“I hate to tell you this, but he says… you're just not pretty enough.”

“Not pretty enough? You've got to be kidding!”

“Yep… kidding. Gotcha!”

“You fucking asshole! Not funny! What did he really say?”

“What do you think he said? He told me he was so hot after you left the gym today, he had to take care of himself in the restroom twice just to finish his shift. What the hell did you do to that poor boy anyway?”

“Nothing much—just flirted a little. So, what did you two say?”

“I introduced myself as your husband. He talked about you as a goddess. I reminded him you are my goddess. Just a loaner goddess for him. He laughed, but I said I was dead serious. He asked me what you like and I told him that it's half the fun finding out. He wanted to know when he could get started. I told him there was a 50/50 chance that I'll be home tomorrow. He obviously doesn't want to wait. Did your dad pick up the kids yet?”

“Yeah," I replied. "They picked up the boys about an hour ago. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want him right now. I'm just sitting around... soaking my underwear. I need to get industrial strength batteries for my vibrator.”

“You have his number. If you want to make it an entire weekend, it's up to you. I'm sure he'd be there in ten minutes… Wait… the contract is signed. I just got a text. I'm taking the first flight I can and will be home early evening. Do you want me to take a cab? Or do you want to pick me up?”

“Dave, would you mind terribly taking a cab? Please don't hate me. Is it okay for us to use the master, or should we use the guest room?”

“How could I hate you? This was all my idea, remember? I'll be happy to take a cab. Please use the guest room. It has a queen and that should be sufficient to get the job done. Love you, babe. One more thing, put on the liner for the mattress. Have fun. I gotta go.”

That's Dave for you, always pragmatic. I sat for a few minutes and stared at my phone, knowing one phone call would change my life forever. I looked at his card and dialed his number. After two rings, he picked up.

“Jennifer, is that you? I'm going crazy here.”

"Yeah, me too. If you want to get this party started, come over now.”

“I'm on my way.”

“Wait a minute, James. I'm going to leave the front door unlocked. When you come in, lock it behind you. Undress and take a shower in the downstairs bath room. I will be ready for you in the guest bedroom at the end of hall. Hurry up.”

“Okay, will do. See you in a few, gorgeous.”

I lay totally nude and waiting, not wanting to waste a minute on the preliminaries of getting undressed and the awkward forced conversation. I'd never been this crazy horny ever in my life. I was sure I was wet enough naturally, but put a tube of KY jelly on the night stand, along with a bottle of lover’s oil.

I heard the front door close and then a short time later the shower running. Every moment was heightening my excitement. Then, there was the creaking of the stairs. I held my breath and closed my eyes tight. The anticipation was more than I could bear.

Suddenly, I felt the bed give with the weight of his body. A hand gently began massaging my breast. His lips softly pressed on mine. No words were exchanged. We had our own language. His tongue was dancing, exploring on a quest of discovery. His lips moved down to my highly sensitive nipples, sucking one then the other. My body shuddered as his fingers invaded my wet and wanton velvety petals. His touch was like magic, conjuring up a cauldron of pleasure previously unknown. He was no novice at this, and found my G-spot in record time. My body responded to his touch in ways it had never done before.

Even though I'd had sex with many men in my life, they were like boys fumbling around in the dark. James was the maestro, showing me places on my own body I never knew existed.

“I need you,” I whispered, as if in a sanctuary.

I opened my eyes and was greeted with a smile. James's tan arms encased my soft, pale skin in a contrast of more than our skin tone. His powerful physique could easily crush me, yet he touched me with the lightness of a feather. I pushed him easily toward the destination of my desire. The path was certain as little kisses prepared the way. I could feel his hot breath on my pulsating vagina. His tongue expertly devoured my wetness, sending shivers throughout my being. He was probing me like he had secret intimate knowledge of my pleasure points.

“Yess... that’s it! Ahhh, feels so good. Ohhhh my God!” My body was shaken by my first orgasm. I shuddered as that familiar wave washed over me; every nerve combined in glorious harmony.

James was playing me like a fine musical instrument. Then he asked me, “What do you want?”

I breathlessly answered, “Everything!”

Then, in the dimness of the room, I saw "it" for the first time as he knelt on the bed. It was ominous, yet beautiful. The thick, veined monster stood proudly erect, beckoning me. He was not massive, but definitely longer and much thicker than Dave. 

I reached out and gripped it with my hand, my fingers not quite fully encompassing it. I slid forward, holding it in two hands as I engulfed the expanding purple head in my mouth, flicking my tongue around the head. I was only barely able to deep throat about half of the thick shaft. James rocked his hips and I bobbed my head. His member grew even bigger, as if that was possible.

“That's it, you married slut. Suck that fat dick! Tell me what you want, cunt! Tell me you want my cum, bitch!”

I knew this was a game, but it still irritated me. I played along, regardless. “I want your cum in my slut wife pussy.”

"Good answer, bitch.”

I could take this no longer and said, “Whoa, wait a minute. Take a break. James, the insulting talk is an extreme turnoff to me. You need to stop it or we're done.”

“I'm so sorry, Ms. Cooper. Most couples get off on it.”

“James, so far you're the best fuck I've ever had and we've just started. You have serious skills and you don't need any verbal props. I also think you're familiar enough with me by now to call me Jenny. And just one last thing… If you intend to fuck me with that fat thing, you best be using lube.”

He walked over to the door and flipped on the light switch and said, “I want to watch you take my big cock.”

“I wish David was here.”

“I think it's best he isn't. Husbands tend to get overly protective when their wives take their first—and you need to relax.”

“That's exactly what David said… So, you gonna fuck me or just talk about it?”

He finished lubing his shaft and lay on his back. He reached out and took my hand, pulling me to my knees. James held his rigid pole.

I gulped as I thought about that massive, angry looking cock head entering me.

“I think it's better you be on top and control the entry rate.”

“I don't know about this,” I said, positioning my pussy just above his thick shaft.”

"Trust me, you'll do fine. Inch by inch, everything a cinch.”

“Hahaha, that's what I tell my kids.”

I lowered myself and the head started parting the folds of my labia. A little more pressure and the whole head plus a couple inches slid inside.

“How's that feel?” James asked.

“Really tight. Very full.”

A few more inches and it was getting easier. A slight amount of discomfort but surprisingly no pain. I was feeling proud of myself at this point. James pulled back and started pumping me with short little strokes, each thrust penetrating a little deeper. He was in all the way to his balls.

"Oh, my God, that is incredible. That feels better than I ever dreamed it could. Fuck me!”

He rolled me over to missionary and commenced to fuck me with purpose. I held his biceps and watched his graceful muscular torso work every muscle group in his body. The rhythm was easy to match and soon his shaft was plunging me into a delirium I had never experienced before. The bed-board hammered against the wall and the sound of slapping skin filled the room with the song of lovers. My body was in autopilot, responding in ways I never knew it could. Wave after wave of orgasm rocked my very soul. I gasped my pleasure until I had no strength left.

The pace picked up to a gallop and all of James's muscles were tightening up. I knew he was ready.

“Ahhh, I'm almost there. Can I cum in you?”

Before I could even answer, James started flooding me with his seed. He groaned, panted, and cried out his ecstasy. Our movements ceased and we remained in a post coital embrace. Our heart rates returned to normal.

“Yes!” I gasped.

“Yes what?" He looked puzzled.

“Yes, you can cum in me.” I grinned.

“My timing was less than perfect. Sorry.”

I hugged him tight and said, “That was the only thing that wasn't perfect. Thank you! I hope you took your vitamins, young man. I think you're going to need them.”

“Jenny, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I could just look at you and melt. Do you know how long I've had a crush on you?”

“Awwww, that's so sweet. I've had my eyes on you too.”

Just then, I heard a knock on the door. I put my fingers over James' lips, indicating he should remain silent. I jumped out of bed and the cum poured out of me. I threw a robe on and went to investigate. I knew I smelled of sex. Approaching the landing, I saw my mom holding James's pants and shirt. He must have dropped them on the living room floor in his haste to shower.

“Mom! What are you doing here?”

She looked at me, holding James's trousers, and replied, “I guess I could ask you the same thing. I was here to get the boys' game controller. From the look of it, you're playing your own games.” She chuckled.

"Mom… we have company this weekend.”

“Don't bother to try and explain, honey. Does David know?”

“Yes. This was his idea to let a friend stay with us,” I answered, avoiding eye contact.

“Where's David?” My mother asked suspiciously.

“His flight was delayed. He will be home soon.”

My mother started laughing and said, “Your secret is safe with me, my naughty daughter.”

“Mom! Are you saying what I think you're suggesting?”

"If it quacks like a duck..."

I stood there staring in disbelief that my mother would even think such a thing.

“May I suggest something that might save you some grief?”

"What?" I replied with a scowl.

“You should never let your boyfriends park in the driveway and come in the front door. Your neighbors observe more than you know."

“Mom…!”

Mom pursed her lips. "I'm gonna go. We should get together next week. We've got a lot to talk about. Now go back to what you were doing and take his clothes with you.”

“Thanks, Mom. There's more to this than you think. I’ll call you.” I hugged her.

“Thank you, dear. I suspect we might be babysitting a whole lot more now. Lock this door behind me.” She left with the game controller.

I gathered the clothing and headed up the stairs. When I reached the top, my cell phone went off in the master. I rushed to answer. It was Dave.

“Dave, I'm in the middle of something right now. Can I call you later? We have a lot to talk about.”

“I'm waiting to board my flight. Just tell me... did it happen?”

“Yes! And it's gonna happen again as soon as I get off the phone. Dave, as of an hour ago I am officially a Hot-Wife. I must go. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you more. I'll be home in four hours. Bye.”

-oOo-

I entered the guest bedroom and James was nowhere to be found. I looked in the bathroom and called out his name. I mean, how many places can a big muscle-bound guy hide? He had to be upstairs.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” I called out. The cum was starting to cake on my thigh as I walked around searching.

There was suddenly a rapping on the patio door. I ran down stairs and found James standing in a towel on the patio. I opened the slider and he rushed in.

"What the hell… How’d you get down here?” I exclaimed.

“I crawled out the window and jumped off the roof into the back yard when I heard your mom was here.”

I started laughing hysterically. James just stared at me but I couldn't catch my breath. Tears were rolling down my cheeks. He finally asked, “What's so funny?”

I started laughing again, then took a deep breath and replied. “Look at you. Look at us. You are standing in my patio room after crawling out my upstairs window nude, except for a towel. I was in my living room trying to convince my mother nothing was going on while your bountiful semen was pouring out of me, dripping on the living room floor. Come on, you gotta find that a bit funny.”

He didn't laugh, but asked, “What now?”

“Hmmm, what now?” I replied, ripping his towel off. “You still have a job to do. Get your cute ass upstairs.” I slapped his butt.

James continued his mastery over my body. He was like a machine. We fucked two more times. His cum seemed to not dry up. I even tried anal but he was just too damn large. He got it in, but my fear wouldn't let me relax. It was a marvelous experience; one I shall never forget. I classify this as one for the ages. I felt like James was the best choice I could have ever made. I trusted his professionalism.

-oOo-

It was almost eight when a taxi pulled up. David opened the front door, not sure what he'd find. What he found was me cooking him dinner, dressed in a conservative dress with my apron on.

“Welcome home, love.” I greeted him with a smile, a kiss, and firm hug.

“Go clean up. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

“Where's James? What happened?”

“Take your luggage upstairs and clean up. By the time you shower and change, I'll have your dinner ready.”

“But… but…”

“Now do as you're told, young man.” I imitated my mommy talk and laughed.

I could hear Dave grumble as he climbed the stairs carrying his luggage. I knew the first thing he would do was check for evidence in the guest room. There was nothing to be found, as I put on fresh sheets and threw the semen soiled ones in the washer. When Dave finally came down in a fresh shirt and shorts, I had the dinner served.

“Talk to me,” Dave demanded.

“Sit down and we'll talk over dinner. It's your favorite sirloin roast.”

“I'm not hungry. Tell me what happened?”

“Okay, I'll tell you this. Do you remember when we first discussed this whole thing? We agreed the decision was mine alone to make. We talked about this being a trial run. Hun, I made the decision that this was not a lifestyle I want for us or our family. That's my final decision. Now eat your dinner.”

"Was it that terrible?"

“No, quite the contrary. It was incredible. More than I could ever have hoped for.”

“I don't understand.”

“No, I guess you couldn't, but some day you’re going to thank me. Do you love me?”

“Silly question. Of course I do, with all my heart. Are you at least going to tell me the details?”

“No, I'm not. It's going to be my little secret. Maybe some day when we're old and reminiscing I will, but for now, I will lock it up in my memory bank. What do you say we go up to the bedroom and make some memories of our own? You must need it badly after this week.” He nodded his head.

I stood up and put his hand under my skirt and let him feel my soaked panties.

“I didn't clean everything up.” I grinned.

The end… or is it?