When I asked Sandra about him afterwards, she just said he was an old friend and that they had dated at one time. I didn’t think too much about it until the next day, when Sandra asked me to look after our son because she was going to visit Judy. She was gone for nearly three hours, and while she was out Judy called the house asking for her. I didn’t know what to say, so I just told her Sandra was out.
When I hung up the phone I began to get suspicious. I thought about Sandra’s diaphragm, which I knew she kept in her toiletry bag. I couldn’t help myself. I had to check it out. I got out the bag and looked inside. The diaphragm wasn’t there.
When Sandra got back, she immediately headed for the bathroom, where she showered and changed her clothes. When she finished I sneaked into the bathroom and pulled the panties she’d been wearing out of the hamper. They were wet and sticky in the crotch, and I could smell the musky aroma of her cunt and the strong odor of male semen.
It was pretty obvious that she’d had sex while she was out, and most likely she’d fucked Peter. But at least this time she’d taken some precaution and brought birth control with her.
Again, even though I was stunned by the knowledge that my wife had cheated on me once more, every time I looked at her that evening I found myself thinking about Peter’s sperm inside her. The thought kept my dick hard all evening long, and that night Sandra and I had some of the hottest, wildest sex of our married lives.
Sandra went out alone a few more times during our stay, and each time her diaphragm was missing from her toiletry bag. I had no doubt that my wife was having a fling with her one-time boyfriend during that visit.
The following May, Sandra took our son and again flew home to visit her parents for two weeks, this time alone. As I was helping her pack on the day she left, I sneaked a look into her toiletry bag. Sure enough, her diaphragm was there, in its case. Obviously she was planning to continue her affair with Peter. A wave of jealousy (or something) came over me, and while Sandra was out of the room I took the diaphragm out of the bag and put it back in her dresser drawer. I figured that by denying her contraception, I’d nip her affair in the bud. At least that’s what I told myself, but maybe what I really wanted was what actually happened.
Sandra had a baby girl that February, exactly nine months after that trip to see her parents. The fact is that I’m not sure whether the real father is Peter or myself. Our oldest daughter looks more like Sandra than anybody else. Sandra and I made love on the day of her return, so I just can’t say for sure. But, as with our son, our daughter is loved as much as a human being can possibly be.
A couple of times after that I became aware that Sandra was cheating on me again. We had another girl when our oldest daughter was two and a half. The new baby, like our son, didn’t look like either of us. She looked like a man with whom I am virtually certain that Sandra had an affair. He was a younger guy, a college kid who worked as a lifeguard at our local swimming pool one summer. He and my wife started talking one day at the pool, and as I played with the kids I noticed their furtively, exchanged looks, their incidental touching and their sly, knowing smiles. Then one day when I came home a little early, I saw him sneaking out of our house. Sandra was in our bed asleep, with nothing on. The covers were a mess, and wet spots speckled the sheets. Before she woke up I checked her dresser drawer. Her diaphragm was there in its case. She hadn’t used it.
I never told Sandra what I’d seen, but I beat off that afternoon thinking of my wife, her abdomen filled with her young lover’s sperm. When our third child was born late the following spring, she looked, as I say, just like him.
Even though Sandra always used the diaphragm when she and I had sex, we both pretended to believe that it had failed when she became pregnant. But after our third child was born, I finally had a vasectomy. Maybe the danger of getting pregnant without being able to explain it kept Sandra faithful for a few years. But recently I began to suspect her of seeing somebody else again. When she began to seem unusually worried and distracted, I knew that something was wrong.
My suspicion was confirmed when I found a discarded home pregnancy test kit in the trash can as I was taking it to the curb for pickup. That alone told me that my thoughts had been correct. But that wasn’t all. I found the indicator and saw that it showed positive. Sandra was pregnant again.
Now I knew why she had been acting so worried. There was nothing to do except confess her pregnancy and her affair, because I knew that she’d never have an abortion. But she was probably afraid to risk our marriage by telling the truth. In spite of her affairs, I knew she loved me and that she didn’t want our marriage to break up.
What she should have realized was that I felt the same way. There was nothing that would ever make me leave her. Even so, I was also afraid of the strain that uncovering the truth might put on our relationship at this time, so I came up with a scheme.
The fact was I had often recalled that long-ago day when I saw my wife getting fucked by Sam during the company picnic. The memory never failed to excite me, and a part of me had always wished I could actually see Sandra in another man’s arms again. Now I finally saw a way to fulfill that desire and to solve Sandra’s problem—our problem—at the same time.
One night after we had made love and Sandra was feeling mellow, I “confessed” to her that I had long had a fantasy of watching her with another man, and I wondered if she would ever consider it. Of course, I knew that ordinarily she wouldn’t have, but I was giving her a chance to create an excuse for her latest pregnancy: the diaphragm must have failed when she was fucking this strange guy. Sandra wavered a little, but I knew in the end she would have to agree, and she did.
So that’s how I came to hide in the closet and watch my wife fuck some guy she had picked up at the grocery store. Afterward we both agreed that it had been very erotic, and Sandra wondered if we might do it again sometime. Obviously that won’t be until after she’s had the baby.
I know that secrets usually aren’t good for a marriage, but because Sandra and I have kept ours, our marriage is safe and secure and very good. Of course, Sandra doesn’t have as many secrets as she thinks she does. My secrets are that I watched her with another man long before this recent session, I know she’s cheated on me, our children aren’t mine and I get turned on knowing she has another man’s sperm swimming around inside her womb, looking for an egg of hers to fertilize. So as it turns out, my biggest secret is that I know her secrets, but she doesn’t know mine!—
C.Z., Boise, Idaho
ELEGANT LADY OR SEX-CRAZED SLUT? HIS WIFE WAS BOTH, AND HE WASN’T COMPLAINING
Beneath her normally sophisticated and elegant facade, my wife Julia is a come-loving slut. Let me share a recent experience to explain what I mean.
Julia is a thirty-four-year-old, auburn-haired, white-skinned beauty. She has incredible, perfectly shaped legs, a small tight waist, breasts the size of grapefruits and great feet. She enhances her immense natural beauty by applying enough makeup to her face and eyes to cause people to wonder if she is a high-priced call girl. She turns heads wherever she goes, and she’s so used to the attention that she often doesn’t notice—but I always do. My dick gets hard whenever I see people’s eyes following her across a room.
Julia usually dresses in a sophisticated yet sensual manner, and her wardrobe is full of sleek, elegant designer clothes. She also has a large collection of slutwear, including tight micro-minis, tops with plunging necklines, see-through dresses, many pairs of shoes with five- and six-inch heels and every imaginable type of ankle bracelet to draw even more attention to her legs and feet. She never wears panties or a bra, and in warm weather she’s always naked beneath her dresses, skirts and blouses. In cold weather she wears sheer pantyhose, but her dark pussy and prominent cunt lips are always uncovered for those lucky enough to get a peek. And when she’s in the mood, she loves being an exhibitionist and showing off her body.
During the ten years we’ve been married, we’ve had an active and adventurous sex life. In addition to our normal sexual relations and exhibitionist experiences, we’ve shared fantasies with each other and occasionally acted them out, but no experience was more exhilarating than the one we had last weekend.
Julia’s all-time favorite fantasy is to make love to a muscular black stud with a huge cock. During the past year, she developed a relationship that allowed her dream to become a reality. Michael is a personal trainer at the health club that Julia belongs to. Last year he caught her eye, and when her female trainer moved away, Julia decided to hire Michael to help keep her in shape. After working out with him, she would often come home and tell me how wet she got staring at the bulge in his shorts and watching his eyes devour her face, breasts and pussy. Within minutes we’d jump into bed and fuck the night away like animals while she fantasized that it was Michael’s fat black cock that was bringing her to ecstasy instead of mine.
A couple of weeks ago, after one of our Michael-induced lovemaking sessions, I told Julia that watching her seduce him would be the greatest sexual experience of my life, and that I wanted her to make it happen. Apparently that was all the encouragement she needed, because later she told me that she had arranged a “sex date” with Michael the following Saturday night. We were going to meet him for dinner, go to a nearby nightclub to dance for a while and then come home for a little “nightcap.”
We couldn’t wait for Saturday to arrive, and the sexual excitement built throughout the week. On Saturday, Julia spent an extra-long time getting ready. She sent me out of the bedroom and told me that my patience would be well-rewarded. And was she ever right! When she walked into the living room, I got an instant hard-on. Her face and hair were beautifully made up, and she was wearing a semi-transparent, low-cut brown mini-dress that showed off her tits and legs. As usual, she wasn’t wearing any underwear. The hem of her dress covered her cunt and ass with maybe an inch to spare. If you looked closely enough (and you sure couldn’t help but do that), you could see her large brown nipples and dark, perfectly trimmed pussy through the thin material of her dress.
Julia was also wearing an attention-getting gold charm ankle bracelet, a pair of clear plastic platform slides with six-inch heels and a pair of sexy gold-hoop earrings. As she sat down across from me, her short dress gave me a perfectly unobstructed view of her glistening pink cunt lips. I knew it would definitely be a night to remember!
After drinking a cocktail at home we drove to the restaurant, took our seats and waited for Michael to arrive. Everybody in the restaurant noticed Julia’s entrance, and it was clear that she was the main topic of conversation. A few minutes later a tall, handsome, muscular black man walked in the door, and I knew it must be Michael. His eyes met Julia’s, and they both smiled as he quickly approached our table. Julia stood up, hugged him, gave him a kiss on the lips and introduced him to me. We shook hands and we sat down to begin our adventure. Every eye in the place was on us, and the room was filled with an air of sexual tension and speculation as to what the three of us were up to.
We had a few drinks, ate our dinner and then decided to go to the nightclub to dance. Michael followed us in his car as we drove to the club. On the way Julia asked how I was feeling. I told her that I was very turned on and put her hand on my bulging crotch to prove it. I then asked her how she felt. She responded by reaching between her legs, fingering her dripping cunt and slowly licking her honey-coated finger clean. She asked me if I wanted a taste, and of course I said yes. She reached down again and brought up a scoop of the sweetest dessert I ever had.
When we arrived at the dance club, Michael hurried over to our car and opened Julia’s door. She rewarded his courtesy by sliding out slowly, spreading her legs and giving him a long look at her oozing cunt. They smiled at each other, and we walked inside.
The club was crowded, noisy and dark. We made our way to our reserved table next to the dance floor. After ordering a round of drinks, Julia and I got up and danced to a slow romantic song, during which she rubbed her body against mine. After that she switched her attention to her willing prey. For the next hour, Julia and Michael danced every dance, fast and slow, and with each song their moves became increasingly suggestive and erotic. During the fast dances they gyrated in sexual harmony, their faces conveying their escalating desire. During the slow dances they pressed against each other, humped each other’s legs and explored each other’s body with their eager hands.
When Michael began massaging her tits and ass, Julia responded by giving him a long French kiss and reaching down to feel the bulge between his legs. She whispered something in his ear, and he immediately reached between her legs and began to finger her. Within a couple of minutes Julia had a shuddering orgasm on the dance floor in front of me and a multitude of mesmerized onlookers. After a few more minutes, during which she had started to regain her composure, Julia grabbed hold of Michael’s hand, walked over to our table and announced that it was time for us all to go home.
On the way out to the car, Julia told me that she was going to ride with Michael to make sure he didn’t get lost. I followed them, and as I watched them in the car ahead I saw Julia rest her head on Michael’s shoulder, then start to kiss her way down his neck and cheek. A minute later her head had disappeared from sight as she got her first taste of what lay in store for us.
When we came to a stoplight I pulled up beside them. Looking down from my vehicle into Michael’s sports car, I saw my sexy wife sucking on the biggest cock I’d ever seen. We got home a few minutes later, and luckily Michael hadn’t yet blown his wad. I was relieved, because I wanted to witness that for myself.
As I unlocked the front door, Julia embraced Michael, telling him that she wanted to be his whore, and that she was going to give him his greatest sexual experience ever. They kissed as I opened the door, and we walked in.