48 comments/ 351437 views/ 98 favorites Jennifer's Longing By: TQM Warning: This is the story of someone who is unfaithful. It is in the "Loving Wives" category because there isn't an "Unfaithful" category. If you are not interested in a cheating wife story, don't read it. If you wish to spend time thinking about how wrong it is to be in the "Loving Wives" category, frankly, take it up with the people who run this place. And don't take it up with me. I'm telling you this as a service – I want to spare you the grief. Frankly, I think this objection is kind of silly. The term "Loving Wives" doesn't say who it is these wives are loving. Or, we could look at it as a kind of ironic term. The fact is many of the stories are about unfaithful wives and you should either just accept this fact (and not read my story), or take it up with the people who run this place. * * * * * Scene 1 I suspect you have heard this before – the story of a sexy young woman who is happily married who lusts after some handsome stud and eventually succumbs to her own desires. Well it happened to me. And what's interesting (at least to me) is that before these events happened, I'd have bet money that I'd always be faithful. That's the thing about it. You see, sexual desire is, I've found, at least 50% psychological. When a certain idea hits you, it stays up there and builds and builds whether you want it to or not, just like that dandelion in your grass. I married the fourth guy that got me into bed. I was pursued (because I'm attractive) by many, but when I dated, I dated seriously – always working toward long term relationships. While I was always open to sex with my boyfriends, and things sexual in general, I never engaged in casual sex – not even once. I never got picked up at a bar. I never had any kind of one night stand. Frankly, I've never found that idea sexy. Sex was something intimate – to be had with someone you have feelings for. I'm tall, slim, and have long black hair. I'm only 25 and don't mind dressing sexy for my man. Like I said, I'm open about sex and sexuality. But I don't go around dressing sexy for other men. I've never wanted the attention from anyone other than the guy I was with. I'm not saying I mind being checked out. I'm just saying it wasn't a goal. My man has always been man enough for me. And I want to make something absolutely clear: I've had absolutely no complaints about my sex life with my husband. I realize that what happened to me was a psychological phenomenon. I became fixated – fixated on an idea. And I couldn't move on. I was stuck on that idea. It started at a party. A group of girls were talking over the music in the corner of the room. I was one of the group. Stacy told Mary that her new boyfriend looked cute. I didn't even know which guy was hers, as they were several guys there that I didn't know. Mary just giggled and said "He's alright I guess. He's just big where it counts." We all laughed at that. But, as if being hit by lightning, I felt immediately turned on – even though there was no guy in my mind or view. It was the idea of a guy being "big where it counts." Linda in the group then joked, "So size matters, eh?" This was followed by more laughter. Mary just responded, "It has its advantages." At this point a few guys joined us, wondering what we were laughing about. Someone said, "Men. What else?" The conversation continued. But the words had been imprinted on my brain – "Size Matters." The party went on. It wasn't until about an hour later that I managed to figure out who Mary's new boyfriend was. They were together with his hand resting on her butt. He was, as Stacy had claimed, cute. Really cute. I tried to be discreet, but I couldn't stop myself from looking at the front of his jeans. And there I saw his bulge. The bulge. Actually, I realized immediately that he was big and that I'd never experienced anything like it with my four guys. I guess I just never had thought about it before. I don't really know why it had such an effect on me. But I was really so turned on! I was actually flustered! Its not like I hadn't heard the term 'well hung' before. The difference was this was the first time I'd personalized the idea – I hadn't experienced a well hung guy – this was about me, personally. The party eventually ended. I knew I'd never cheat. And I knew that even if I were single, I'd never mess with another girl's guy. But the rest of that evening I don't know how many times I caught myself looking at the front of this guy's pants. And on the drive home with my husband it was this image that was stuck in my mind. Scene Two Its Saturday morning, some 6 months later. Hubby is cutting the grass. I race upstairs to the bedroom and sit in the middle of the bed with my back against the head. I hike my little skirt up and rush my hands into my bikini panties. I've been thinking about Mary's boyfriend's pants bulge and I can't take it anymore. I need some relief. I press one index finger against my clitoris. I plunge a couple of fingers from my other hand into my pussy. Five minutes later I rock my own world and need to wash my hands. I had found this was the only way to get my mind off of Mary's boyfriend's cock. (His name was Derek, but I only thought of him as Mary's boyfriend.) I've run in to him, with Mary on his arm several times. Each time leaves me feeling like a drooling idiot. The last time I was sorely tempted, when no one was looking, to just reach out and grab him by the front of his pants. I just wanted to feel it. I know I'm fixating on it. But knowing I'm fixating doesn't stop me from fixating. Scene 3 I'm at work. I'm just back from lunch with a friend. We were chatting and gossiping when she asks me if I've heard that Mary has broken up with her guy. My first reaction was to give a wicked smile. My second reaction was to panic. How would I ever see him again? I don't even know his name? And its not like I can go asking people – I'm married after all – and besides, though I want him, I know I won't be unfaithful. I asked her if she knew what happened. My friend just said, "Mary always complained he was too busy looking at himself in the mirror." I wanted to, but didn't press any further. So there I am at work. My fixation is now in overdrive. I start thinking about what I should do. On the one hand I don't want to ever be unfaithful. On the other, I don't want to never see him again. I call Mary. We weren't particularly close friends. But I call to see if she's okay. I'm hoping I'll get some clue about where her ex is. Mary, it turns out, is okay. She jokes about how you get tired after a while of a guy whose only good quality is that he's good in the sack. She complains that he'd rather spend his weekends at the gym than with her, so she put an end to things. I joked with her that I work out too, and then made my move. I asked her where he works out. She told me and we moved on in the conversation. She didn't clue in at all that it was an odd thing for me to ask. We finished the conversation. I needed immediate relief. I got up went to the bathroom and put my fingers to work. Scene 4 Its Saturday morning. I've told my husband I'm going for a work out, some shopping then meeting a friend for lunch. He stays in bed and informs me he'll be cutting the grass today. I'm wearing my tightest form-fitting jeans which end just below my belly button, and a tight t shirt which ends just above. Instead of going to my gym, I go to the gym of Mary's ex. I'm feeling really naughty because here I am lusting after this guy all this time, and I've just realized I don't know his name. Not a clue. I realize I'm obsessing about him. After all, here I am going to his gym, but I fully realize there's a very good chance he won't be there. I don't even have a membership for this gym. When I arrived there, I ask for a tour of the facilities. Perhaps I'll run into him this way. Alas, in spite of the tour, no such luck. I stall and ask a lot of questions, but he doesn't appear. They want me to sign up for a membership, but I decline. I can't tell them I had different motives. I walked a couple of blocks and then thought that perhaps I should have gotten a membership after all – perhaps something on a monthly basis. Maybe, I was thinking, I'm giving up too easy. It begins to sink in that deep down inside, I've reached the point where I am now walking down the road towards wanting to be an unfaithful wife. I start to walk back. I begin to have my first conscious debate with myself as to whether or not I would be unfaithful if I somehow manage to meet this stud. I realize that every action I'm taking is opening myself up to this possibility. A pang of guilt hits. But then I realize that for the past number of months I've been totally fixating on another man's penis, and that I don't see a way to stop thinking about it. And then I start to think that really and truly, the only way to end this obsessive fixation is to indulge it just once. You know, it's quite possible I won't like it. It's quite possible I'll find the guy a jerk. But going through with it, just once, is what I'll need to end it – and this one fling will allow me to get back to my normal self. I'm now back at the entrance to the gym. I hesitate on going in. I'm feeling a little ashamed. There is no sign of this guy. I don't know when or if he'll ever be working out here. I don't even know his name. And here I am willing to spend some money on a gym that's not convenient for me just in the hopes that we will meet, hook up, and mate once and only once. I'm ashamed that my fixation has taken me to this. Gym bag in hand I build up my resolve, and turn away from the gym. For the first time, I feel like I'm beginning to get the better of my fixation. I feel silly. I can't be joining a gym that I'd rarely be able to use. My common sense finally won the day. Scene 5. Filled with new-found resolve, I turn away again from the gym, happy with myself. I decide to go shopping, as I've told my hubby that I'll be out for a while, and it would be really strange if suddenly I'm back home so early. And then I see him. And he sees me. So much for my new-found resolve. We greet like long-lost friends. He put his hands on my arms and he gave me a peck on my cheek and asks me if I work out at his gym too. I told him its great to see him again, that I was just checking the gym out because a friend told me about it, that I had heard about his break up with Mary. In response he told me he hopes I join the club because it would be great to work out together, he didn't think he'd see me again, it wasn't meant to be with Mary as things weren't working out, and then added that now he could tell me how great I look without worrying about what Mary would think. I knew right then that I would bed this man. I asked him if he was going to work out now and he said he was. He asked me to join him for a work out and then have lunch after. He made it clear he was checking me out. I, however, needed to get this over with. I told him that the gym just wasn't convenient enough for me, but then added that I was free now and free up until about 2 p.m. because hubby was out golfing with some buddies. (What a liar I am!) He took the bait. He said we should hang out for a bit, and then have lunch. I quickly agreed. He asked me to wait while he deposited his gym bag in his locker – as he'd work out later in the day. Standing outside the gym I realized that I still didn't know his name. He really was just a sex object for me. I hadn't asked him to clarify "hanging out", but I knew that if he meant sex, I was ready to break my marital vows. I reminded myself that I had dressed for the occasion and I gave myself a glance over to make sure I was dressed for success. He was quick. As we started to walk he briefly put his hand on my back and then slid it down to my butt. It was a brief touch and I wanted more. But I didn't have the courage to be aggressive. I didn't know where we were walking. We engaged in small talk. He offered that golfing wasn't his bag, and there was no way he'd be smacking a little ball on grass for half a day, if he had a "hot chick" like me back home. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to talk his way into my pants. And even though we'd only been walking for a few minutes, he clearly knew he had a chance. So I agreed with him. And I told him there was no way I'm staying at home while he's out at play. He smiled at this response. A minute later we were in front of a small low rise apartment building. Without him telling, I knew this was where he lived. He confirmed this a moment later. I showed no hesitation as he led me in. He opened the door for me and I walked in. As I passed him, his hand planted itself on my ass and he hooked a finger in the back pocket of my jeans. As the door closed he pulled me into him and kissed me on the mouth. I kissed back. My lips parted to accept his tongue. I put my hands on his waist as he pinned me against the door. His hands roamed my body. I had been fantasizing about his cock for so long I couldn't wait any longer. I moved my right hand to the front of his pants and grabbed at his bulge. I wanted it bad. My lust overwhelmed me. I not only wanted to be satisfied by this man, I wanted to satisfy him as well. I desired his sperm. I wanted to feel him coming in me. I wanted to give myself to this man. Whatever feelings I had for my husband, had, for now, been completely vanquished. I needed to mate with this stud. Our mouths remained interlocked as I continued to massage his bulge. I broke off the kiss to tell him how big he felt. I wanted him to know of my lust for him. He told me to undo his pants so that I could see what a treat I was in for. I did as I was told. I dropped to my knees and reached for his zipper. I unzipped his fly while palming his hard-on. I then unbuttoned his jeans and his cock immediate turned his underwear into a tent. He really did have a big cock. I'm not going to tell you it was 2 feet long or some other exaggerated length. All I know it was long and thick and I wanted it. I began to tug on his underwear, pulling it down over his cockhead. And then there it was – the object of my desire – the cock I've been fixating on for all these months; the cock I've been masturbating while I daydream about it; the cock I've been imagining when my husband fucked me. There was a drop of fluid on the tip. I licked it, and then took him in my mouth. He put his hands firmly on the back of my head to make sure it stayed on his cock. I steadied myself by wrapping my left arm around his leg, and with my right hand I reached up and began to pull on his balls. I was completely lost in lust. This man, whose name I still didn't know, owned me. He owned my body. He owned my mind. He had taken me, without even trying, from my husband. As my head bobbed up and down his cock I could taste leaked pre-cum. He was chanting, "Yeah, suck it" at regular intervals. After some ten minutes of this, and in spite of the pressure from his hold on my head, I withdrew my head from his cock, to briefly lick and suck on his big balls. I saw his magnificent cock as a sperm machine and I felt this intense desire to have his sperm in me – and now. I told him so. He picked me up to my feet and guided me to his bed room. He sat on the edge of his bed and told me, "I want to see a married woman strip." I took off my shirt. And then slid of my jeans, as I watched him watch me. "Nice," was his only comment. He lay me on my back on his bed and we kissed again. I told him I needed him to fuck me really badly. He positioned himself between my legs and placed his big cock against my opening. But rather than put it in, he just moved his cock back and forth against my clitoris. I groaned. He told me, "Now I want to see a married woman beg for it." And beg I did. Deliberately slowly, he pressed it into me. I was so wet that a hard thrust would have been no problem, even with his girth. We fucked for a half hour. It felt so.... Perfect. He was a total stud. I was so aware of his bigger cock and its tighter fit. It was so.... fulfilling. He was very athletic and was able to sustain quite the power fuck. I whispered in his ear those things that lets a man know who I belonged to. They were the most unfaithful words ever spoken. I came three times in that half hour. I've never come three times in a day before – let alone thirty minutes. And now it was his turn. I told him he was such a stud. I told him that I wanted his cum in me. He grunted and said, "I'm going to really plant you now." He picked up the pace really drilling me. I reached down with my left hand, over his ass and down to his swelling balls. I said, "I need your sperm now." That was all it took. I felt him filling me. He grunted a few "yeahs". He had stretched me a little, so it felt kind of funny when he withdrew. I could tell by the smug look on his face that he was thinking that he hadn't just fucked a girl – he had conquered her. I reveled in this testosterone driven man. I realized that I had been pretty much conquered before we even had sex. It was the idea of his cock that conquered me. He asked me if it was better than with my husband. I said, "I think you know the answer stud." He said that wasn't good enough, he wanted to hear me say it. So I told him it was better than the best my husband could give me and that I've never needed to be fucked so badly in my life. After some open mouth kissing, he got up to wash up. He returned a minute later, with a semi-hard cock, and dangled it near my mouth. He stood on the floor right by the bed and I moved over and began kissing his cock. I fellated him. It was a long and slow blow job. I was more aware this time as to how wide my mouth had to open to accommodate him. After a while I flipped on my back and he moved close to my head and I began to lick his balls. From this position I was perfectly situated to suck on each ball while I massaged his shaft with my hand. I continued sucking his balls until in a choked voice he said, "I'm close." Quickly, I rolled over onto my stomach again and took his cock head into my mouth. I was surprised he was able to stand so long. The guys I'd been with wouldn't have that kind of strength. He grunted again and said, "Suck it.... Yeah .... Suck it... cumming." Four little blasts filled my mouth. I continued sucking on it and then licked down the shaft. I gently squeezed his cock and some sperm appeared at the tip. Making sure he saw it, I stuck my tongue out, and very slowly licked it up. He was impressed. The day wasn't over. Twenty minutes later, I had coaxed another erection out of him and he fucked it into me once again. He kept going and going and told me that he wanted to make sure I wouldn't be able to fuck my husband that evening. He was so terribly ego driven. But for whatever reasons, it turned me on. Afterward, I left his apartment and dragged my ravaged body to go back home to my husband. I still didn't know his name. He said he'd call me and I left it at that. Interestingly, I felt no guilt. The fact was my life is so unbelievably good. I'm in a stable happy relationship with my husband. I'm a very sexy good-looking girl. And I had the ability and enough leisure time to bed this stud, without the hubby knowing. I realize that I'm now an unfaithful wife. I realize that I'm now not a trustworthy person. But at the same time I'm not hurting anyone, and I now know that its possible to have sex so good that you'll do anything to get it. I now know that size does matter and I'm a lucky enough girl that I can get it. I realize the guy has an ego – but I'm going to stroke it – such a man deserves it. I don't want to marry the guy, I just want to be able to worship him as a stud among men. You see, from my perspective now, being faithful would be kind of stupid. Jennifer's Longing Ch. 02 Derek called me a couple of days after our tryst. He said he wanted to see me again. To my surprise, I had felt no guilt at all having cheated on my husband. In fact, I had had sex with my man that evening. And I enjoyed it with him as much as I ever had. But there was something different with bedding Derek - something that my husband simply couldn't provide. You see, Derek was just a total physical turn on for me, and nothing more. He was good looking, had a bigger penis, and he was great in bed. My lust for Derek made me feel slutty, and feeling slutty made the actual sex just so much better. I wanted his big penis. This made me feel like a slut. This made the sex better than I would ever be able to get from my husband. I loved my guy, but that doesn't change the reality. I wanted Derek in bed and I didn't have the will power to just leave it unfulfilled. Still – I certainly wasn't going to give up my marriage on the basis of a one-time tryst with a male sex machine. I knew that I wanted it to happen again, but I didn't know what Derek wanted. I agreed to see him, but we quickly realized that my being married meant opportunities were rare. We both worked during the day. And in the evenings, I could play with maybe an hour and a half before I had to be home – and this just wasn't enough time. Worse – my next weekend was already booked up. And the weekend after was getting busy too. Fortunately, on that next weekend I had no plans for the Saturday afternoon. I would tell my husband I was going for a workout and some shopping – these excuses always work. Now sometimes things can go wrong with a plan. And sometimes these things going wrong can change the whole dynamic of the situation. This was one of those times. My husband, when I advised him the day before of my Saturday afternoon plans, told me he'd come shopping too. I couldn't very well tell him "No." I called Derek with the bad news. I had planned to spend the entire afternoon in debauchery. I needed it badly. To my surprise, Derek told me to come over anyway and I should tell my better half that I'll meet him for the shopping after my "workout". I complained it wouldn't give us enough time, but he said it would work out okay – he'd even give me a lift over to where I'd be meeting my man. I agreed. That Saturday morning I spent a lot of time in front of the mirror. I wanted to look so hot for him. My husband watched appreciatively, not realizing I was dressing for success with another man. I put on a very short, tight denim mini skirt and a tight fitting pink tank top. Hubbie wanted to play a little bit. I grabbed him between the legs and told him "Tonight, if you're good to me when we go shopping." I kissed him. I know it's amazing, but I knew I was again about to be unfaithful and I felt no guilt. At that moment, all of my sexual urgings were for one man – Derek. And yet I felt no guilt in this. I was with my husband and entirely turned on – but by another man. I left early – I was desperate to spend as much time as possible with Derek in bed. As I left I thought to myself that I'll have to be smarter next time. Hubby hadn't questioned why I was spending so much time putting on make up when I'd be working out. Taking public transportation is always kind of slow and I really wasn't dressed appropriately for a bus ride. But my mind was on Derek and nothing else. It was thirty five minutes to get to his door, but it seemed like it had been hours. Inside the door he wrapped his arms around me and we kissed. In between kisses I told him how desperate I was for him to fuck me. He dragged me over to the couch for some serious making out. I grabbed at the front of his pants. He asked me how badly I wanted it. I told him I had to have it. He told me that he'd give me the best fucking of my life – but then he added there would be one condition: I would have to do exactly what he told me to do. I giggled and asked him what he had in mind. He said I should first promise him, and then he'd tell me. By this time his hand was as far up my skirt as possible, so I wasn't in a position to disagree. I nodded my consent. Derek told me he was going to fuck my brains out, but he wanted to cum in my mouth and he wanted me to swallow. I didn't have a problem with that. He said he wanted to do it again, and again cum in my mouth. I had no problem with that! And then without going to the bathroom or having even a glass of water, he said we would get dressed and he would drive me a couple of blocks away from where I was meeting my man. And he wanted me to walk right up to my husband and give him a long slow kiss on the mouth. I was stunned. I instantly understood the ramifications. One moment he'd be pumping his sperm into my mouth. The next moment I'd be kissing my husband. I told him "I can't." He stood up and pushed down his jeans, revealing that exquisite big cock bulge, and said, "Yes you can." I stared at it. I knew he was right. I raised my right hand to cup his balls through his underwear. I knew what I was doing. Derek reveled in the fact that not only was he getting a hot girl in bed, but that he was getting a hot "taken" girl in bed. And it was clear that he was turned on by a husband kissing a mouth that had been filled with sperm from another man. And I couldn't help it, but I was turn on too. He got me up and guided me to his bed. My tank top and bra had been left in the hallway. My skimpy panties were the next to go. Both of us were so turned on, foreplay wasn't necessary. He pushed up my skirt, hooked his arms around my legs and thrust into me with more force than I'd ever felt. And it felt so good. For forty minutes we rutted like wild dogs. He was always on top. Occasionally, he'd put my legs on his shoulders to deep fuck me. I cold feel he was reaching places my husband couldn't. I knew I belonged to him. I really can't tell you how many orgasms surged through my body. Sometimes one would run into the other. All I can say is that it was exquisite sex. After a time, he withdrew and move up so that his cock pressed against my lips. His legs straddled my body. There was no backing out. I opened my mouth to accept his thrust. Two minutes later he was cumming in my mouth. It was a lot of cum. I had to swallow several times. He held his cock in my mouth, making sure I got out every drop. He stayed relatively hard. We went back to fucking. I went insane. He rolled me onto my tummy and fucked me from behind. His muscular body allowed him to thrust with force. He was like the perfect fuck machine. He grabbed onto my breasts to anchor me as he ploughed away. He told me to beg for it, and I did. And then he told me to tell him that my husband was a "wimp." I lowered my head to the bed. You could say it was just play, but I didn't want to say it. Derek wouldn't let up. With every thrust (and he was thrusting at an incredible speed) he would command me to say it. "Say it!" "Say it!" "Say it!" I felt whatever will was left in my body draining out of me. I gave a long groan. And then I said it. "My husband is a wimp." I was immediately hit with the biggest orgasm of my life. For a brief few moments I was in a world of my own. When I regained my senses, I was still being rammed by the sex machine. Without being told, I told Derek, "My husband is such a wimp, compared to you. You own me." He couldn't take any more and withdrew his cock and flipped me over again onto my back. A second later his cock was in my mouth. I yanked on his balls as he gently now thrusted into my throat. This time the cum was more like a continuous flow. When he was finished I left my mouth open for him to see my cum-covered tongue. He rubbed his cock in my face a bit and the got off me and merely said, "It's time." I knew what he meant. It was time for me to get dressed and go meet my husband. And it was time to kiss him on the mouth. Twenty minutes later, I could see my man standing there waiting for me. I walked to him, but I could feel Derek's eyes on me. I was pretty sure that my man wouldn't know what he was tasting. But I knew my breath wasn't the freshest either. I briefly considered giving him just a peck. It was probably all he was expecting. But I knew Derek wanted me to deep kiss my husband. After what he'd done to me, I felt depraved enough to comply. I walked up to him, and kissed him on the mouth. I aggressively pushed my tongue in. He liked it. As we kissed the only thought in my head was "Wimp." I didn't want to think that. But there's no use pretending it wasn't there. Jennifer's Longing Ch. 03 Note to readers: 1) Really and truly, if you don't like reading about married women who cheat, don't read this story. 2) If you like reading about married women who chat, but expect them to be punished later, don't read this story. 3) I'm interested in your comments, not your moralizing. 4) I'm aware there are cliché's embedded in the story. They are intentional. 5) You will enjoy this better if you read parts 1 and 2. Thanks. ------- I admit I felt sheepish. But I didn't feel guilty. I was cheating on my husband, totally driven by overwhelming lust for this other guy – Derek . Everything physical about Derek turned me on, from his hard body and gorgeous eyes, to his big, long hard cock. When it came to sex I couldn't think about anything else. I'd only bedded him twice, but sexually he owned me. I felt sheepish because I felt I must be some depraved sex fiend. I felt sheepish because I didn't feel guilty, but by all rights I should. I loved my husband so much. I really wanted to do nothing to hurt him. But I had already taken a risk of being caught. I had kissed my husband on the mouth shortly after swallowing Derek's sperm. Fortunately, he didn't detect anything. But I was almost disappointed in him that he didn't. Derek had made me tell him that my husband was a wimp. Truthfully, I didn't believe it. But the idea just kept on creeping back into my head. I had sex with my husband later that day of my second tryst with Derek. I'll always love sex, but I realized it paled in comparison to what Derek could deliver. Now I know that some of you will think that it is all just a self-fulfilling prophecy – that my initial lust for Derek was making feel that sex was better with him. That may be true. But so what? Sex is part psychological, and it just was so much better with him. And his penis was so much bigger too. Size does matter. ----- Derek called me again at work. We spent twenty minutes trying to find a time we could again meet. He told me he wanted to fuck me in my own bed. He said it turned him on to get me in the bed I share with my husband. I told him it was too risky. Now it was true that I wouldn't take such a risk, it was also true that I understood why it turned him on, and because of this, it turned me on too. I was turned on by the idea of being the most unfaithful woman possible. It was just so exciting. He relented and agreed it would be again at his place – but he said there would be a condition – he wanted me to show up dressed like a hooker – and he wanted my husband to see me leave the house dressed that way. I told him this wasn't possible. But he wouldn't give in. He said if I showed up at his place I had to be dressed as a hooker, otherwise he wouldn't let me in. And then he hung up. What could I do? I tried calling him several times, but only got his answering machine. Two days before we had arranged to meet he left a message on my work place voice mail reminding me of his condition. I had three options: I could not show up and thereby end the relationship. I could take a chance and show up in a sexy outfit, but not of hooker calibre. Or, I could comply. I have to tell you, I knew I would choose one of the latter too. I just couldn't write off this stud. The weekend morning finally arrived. I still didn't know what to do. My husband suggested we go out for breakfast. I had time for this because I wasn't meeting Derek until noon. I hadn't told my husband I had something to do yet, but I didn't see it as a problem. Then, an idea struck me. Still wearing my pyjamas, I cuddled up to my husband and told him I was going to make it a special day for him. I told him I was going to put on the short denim short shorts he liked to see me wear around the house and that I'd wear them to breakfast. I told him I wanted to work out around lunch time but before dinner I'd make him a very happy guy. I stroked his cock while I told him this. He was happy. I got dressed, adding a white t-shirt to the short shorts. What my husband didn't see was that in my gym bag I added a skimpy tank top and a pair of high heals. I'd have to find somewhere to change. And I'd have to convince my husband that I needed the car. But it seemed Derek would see me in a hooker outfit. It was funny going to a breakfast restaurant with the slutty outfit I had on. The shorts were tight, faded, and skimpy. A tiny bit of butt cheek was available for viewing when I stood. My skimpy bra was clearly visible through my t-shirt. Guys were staring. My husband enjoyed the show, thinking it was for him. It would have killed him to know it was for someone else. Time moved slowly. My mind was on sex with Derek. You can think what you want about me, but I'm being open with you – my mind was on sex with Derek. And nothing could distract me away from these thoughts. --- Finally, I was alone in the car. I pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store and drove around to the back. Fortunately there was no one around. I pulled my t-shirt off and put my tank top on. I looked like one hot hooker. My last touch was the red lipstick, which was made hotter because of my long black hair. I had my high heels ready to be put on when I got to Derek's. I have to tell you I felt like a hooker. The outfit set a mood. Standing at his door waiting for him to answer my knock I found I was getting overwhelmed with sexual heat. When Derek opened the door he had me stand there for a few seconds to look me over. Then he dragged me in. All he said was "You whore," and then he kissed me on the mouth. A minute later, still in his hallway, his hands on my shoulders, he began pushing me down. He obviously wanted his cock in my mouth. I just wanted his cock anywhere in me, so I was glad to oblige. On my knees before him, I tugged his pants and briefs down to the floor. His rigid big cock stuck out just an inch from my mouth. Every cell in my body was turned on to the max. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and pumped it a couple of times. Some pre-cum formed at the tip. I licked it up. I licked his entire cock head. I even tried to get my tongue into the slit at the tip. Periodically more pre-cum would form, and I'd slowly lick it up. I then tilted his cock upward and licked down his shaft finding his balls. He shaves down there so it was just his balls and my mouth. I licked. I kissed. And then I sucked. Each ball received slow deliberate attention. I took each ball into my mouth and gently sucked, while swirling my tongue around. He grunted several times. After a couple of minutes of concentrating solely on his balls, I noticed that pre-cum had been drizzling out and was now halfway down the shaft. I delighted in slowly licking it all up, right to the tip. And then I took his cock head in my mouth. I sucked on his cock while massage his balls with my hand. My saliva coated his cock. I could now taste his pre-cum in my mouth. I took as much of his cock in as I could, which was only about two thirds of his length, and then bobbed my head back and forth. I milked his balls with my hands. He told me I was a slut for cock. (This was only partly true. I was a slut for his cock.) The process was repeated. I again licked the tip, and worshiped the shaft. I again sucked on his balls. And then he picked me up and dragged me to the bedroom. Aggressively, he pulled my slutty outfit off. We were naked in seconds. Two seconds further and I was on my back waiting to accept him. He attached his mouth to my wet pussy. It really needed no work. In fact I was too excited. My clitoris was too sensitive. I tried to get him to ease up a bit, but he refused. I involuntarily bucked my hips in the hopes of detaching his lips from me, but as my ass fell back to the bed my clit was still between his teeth. A seering orgasm ripped through me. I continued to buck my hips, but his face remained clamped onto me. The orgasm hadn't fully subsided when he took two fingers and inserted them. With the same aggression he continued to finger fuck me and suck on my clitoris. I erupted a second time. This lasted a longer time, and it completely drained me. Unable to even flex a muscle at this point, he moved up to mount me. He thrust his cock deep into me. In spite of my extreme wetness, he still felt amazingly filling. I had thought that by this point any sexual feeling would be impossible because of the two previous mind numbing orgasms. But his cock was reaching places his fingers and tongue couldn't. Derek simply power fucked me. I wrapped my arms around him and begged him to continue. A third orgasm from deep within exploded through my body. The third orgasm cleared up my mind. It was now my turn to take care of him. In between involuntary grunts caused by the power of his thrusts, I talked to him – telling him what he wanted to hear. I told him how good his cock felt. I told him how big his cock was. I told him how much bigger it was than my husband's. I told him that he owned me. He reveled in his own lust. He asked me if it turned me on to have kissed my husband with another man's sperm in my mouth. I told him it did. I was telling him these things to turn him on. I wanted to drive his lust higher yet. But the thing of it is, saying these things turned me on. Talking down on my husband was arousing for me. Having a bigger cock in me was a total turn on. Fucking another man behind my husband's back was driving me crazy! I wanted to be fucked by this stud, and in comparison to him my husband was a wimp. Physically, sexually – he just couldn't deliver what Derek was delivering to me. Another orgasm hit me like a tidal wave. It lasted a while. I lost track of reality for a few seconds, but was brought back by the sensation of his cock spraying cum inside me. I felt so complete. We deep kissed as he continued to gently fuck his stud tool into me. I was aware of the amount of cum pumped into me. He told me he was going to fuck me again and fuck me so hard that I'd be unable to have sex with my "hubby" again for a week. I thought to myself that I promised my husband sex in just a few hours. But frankly, if Derek could fuck me that well, I'd just take it. I didn't want to have to choose, but if forced to, I'd choose to be Derek's fuck toy hands down. After a few minutes of slow fucking, he cock was again fully hard and he began to nail me again. We were joined in the loins. I was his. He whispered in my ear that I was his slut. And then he told me I had to obey him. I said I would. Without slowing down his thrusts he told me that when we were done I should go home and make my husband eat out my pussy. He said that is how a slut should treat her wimp husband. It was just the idea of it. The idea of my husband licking out my pussy with Derek's cum in it set me off. The fourth orgasm of the day pulsed through my body. "Tell me you'll do it!" he commanded. He was fucking me at a frantic pace. I said nothing. He stopped with his cock fully embedded in me. He looked at me, grabbed one leg and flipped me over onto my stomach – his cock never falling out. With me flat on my stomach he again began to power fuck me. Because this was a new position I felt I was being stretched, again to accommodate his big size. Every thrust made me grunt. Derek grabbed a fistful of my hair as he continued to fuck me. "Say it, slut!" "Tell me you are going to make your husband lick out my cum!" I knew saying it and doing it were two different things. I rationalized this. And I said it. His cock began spraying inside me. This in turn triggered my 5th orgasm of the day. ------------- I got dressed quickly. In the washroom I did manage to pass a wet towel through my pussy to wipe off any excess sperm. As I left Derek said, "Don't forget." I got home. My husband was looking at me with a sexual hunger. Given my slutty outfit this wasn't a surprise. I was mindful of the fact that even though I had wiped clean I still felt like I had had a pint of sperm pumped into me. But my husband wasn't to be put off. He dragged me off to our bedroom. We began to make out. Our clothes came off. He tried to finger me. Concerned at what he might find, I twisted away. But he was persistent. A second later, he pronounced me "wet." I thought to myself "Yeah, no kidding! " I had decided on the way home I would have him eat out my pussy. It was degrading to him. And it was risky. But maybe I'd compromise. Impulsively, I pushed him back on the bed so that he was lying on his back. I straddled him and lowered my pussy onto his stomach and rubbed it back and forth. Unexpectedly, my husband wrapped his arms around me to pull me forward. He wanted my pussy near his face. He wanted to eat me out. There was no turning back. With my legs on either side of his head, I lowered my pussy onto his waiting mouth. I felt raw. Still, it felt good. He made no comment. I felt his tongue probing me, reaching in further. I moaned a "yeah." Soon I was grinding myself onto his mouth. It turned me on so much to treat him like this. The mild soreness couldn't prevent my fifth orgasm of the day a few minutes later. He commented that he had never seen me so turned on. We fucked. I didn't notice much. Jennifer's Longing Ch. 04 Please note: 1) This is a continuation of a longer story. It may not make much sense unless you read the three earlier parts. 2) It is in the loving wives section, because that is where these stories seem to go on this site. Take it up with them if you object. 3) This story is about an unfaithful wife. Your comments, good or bad, are appreciated. I don't need to know though, what you would do to your wife, if she was doing this to you. And please remember this is a work of fiction and not some chapter of a personal biography. The story Derek insisted on it. He wanted to fuck me in the bed I share with my husband. It had become clear that a part of his desire to bed me was the ego-stroking experience of taking a wife way from her husband. Derek wanted to take actions, which would humiliate my husband, if he were to ever find out. More to the point, he wanted to be able to have me be the one who would take such actions. I, in turn, was totally in lust with him. This was partly because of his large cock. It wasn't some freakish thing. I never measured it. It was just big, long, and thick, and if I thought of sex, it was of sex with that cock. It was also partly because Derek was a handsome stud of a man. And I admit it was also partly due to the fact that I was getting off on his desire to make me take actions, which would humiliate my husband. I was walking a very thin line. My husband had kissed my mouth shortly after I had swallowed Derek's cum. My husband had gone down on me after Derek had deposited two loads of cum into me. So far, my husband simply hadn't clued in. I felt I was fraying at the edges. I thought I loved my husband. But I couldn't deny my lust. I never for a moment thought if I left him, there'd be a chance of a relationship with Derek. And now Derek wanted to push me further yet. I tried to talk him out of it. This was a mistake. The fact that I didn't want to do it spurred him on. He insisted on it. I refused. I pointed out that I worked during the week and week nights and weekends there was a husband around. He wouldn't accept this as an answer. After some debate, he announced he'd be coming over on Thursday at 12 noon, and I had better be there and I had better be all slutted up for him. He hung up. For the first time, I seriously thought about ending the relationship. I understood what he wanted. I realized it turned him on. I even realized it turned me on too. But the risk wasn't worth it. What if by some stroke of bad luck my husband came home? What if one of the neighbours saw me let another man into our home? I spent a sleepless night. I realized that I had been playing a game. I was playing the slut-wannabe. I was dressing like a slut. I was behaving like a slut. I was even taking risks with my marriage. Well, I've had my fun and now it's time to stop. After all, I didn't love Derek. I just "loved" being dominated and fucked by his cock. I was into cock worship. ------ The next morning I felt unsettled. I had come to a reasonable conclusion – but I felt kind of shaky. It was kind of funny. I had felt no guilt at cheating on my husband. I had felt no guilt in kissing him with my mouth having just sucked down the sperm of another man. I had felt no guilt in having my husband eat me out when that other man's sperm had just been planted in me. But now, having taken no official action in breaking off my affair with Derek, I was feeling unsettled. Toward the end of the day, I thought it best that I make sure I'm doing exactly what I want. So I decided to buy me some time and announced that I had to go to the dentist tomorrow around lunch, and that I'd be back by 3:30 at the latest. I was pretty sure I wouldn't change my mind, but I just wanted to make sure that deep down I was willing to lose him. At home that evening, my husband and I were watching television. I couldn't keep my mind on the program. I slipped away and went upstairs. I headed for my clothes closet to pick out my outfit for work tomorrow. I saw out of the corner of my eye a little denim mini skirt that I frankly, hadn't worn in ages. I thought to myself, "That's the kind of skirt Derek would like me in." That is all it took. I was horny. And I was horny for Derek. ----- I arranged it. I claimed a dentist's appointment, and took the afternoon off. I raced home. I just had time to wash and get "dressed." I put on skimpy red panties and a matching skimpy red tank top. And I added to it that skimpy tight denim mini skirt. As I was applying some lipstick with my pencil I heard a knock on the door. It was Derek. Not much needed to be said. He dragged me over to the couch. We French kissed. I grabbed at his crotch. He grabbed at mine. The mini skirt offered no protection from his ravaging. I was desperate for his cock. I yanked his pants down in between kisses. I knew I needed no work. I removed my panties, faced him and straddled him impaling myself on his tree trunk. We went add it like animals. I was totally lost in the lust. He was bucking into me with the energy of a sports car. We weren't just fooling around. We were mating. Somehow he managed to stop. He said he wanted to finish in the bedroom. I had no will to argue, so I dismounted and showed him the way. We got naked quickly. The little hooker skirt was now on the floor. I lay down in the centre of the bed, expecting him to mount me again. He had other ideas. He asked me which pillow was my husband's. Bewildered, and still lying down, I pointed to the one on the left. Derek walked over to that pillow and pulled it to the side of the bed. Standing, he placed his long, hard cock right on top of it. I realized it was sticky with my own wetness. He told me to come closer and to suck him off. He wanted me to suck him off with my head and his cock right on my husband's pillow. I hesitated. Derek said, "Yeah, we're going to make a little mess of your hubby's pillow – and no – there'll be no changing the pillow case." He wanted to push my unfaithfulness to a new limit. He wanted to mess up my husband's pillow with the results of that unfaithfulness. And I couldn't stop myself. I moved my head close to his cock and stuck my tongue out. I jabbed the tip of my tongue against the slit of his cock. His cock twitched at the sensation. This was the object of my obsession. I moved down to the shaft, keeping my tongue on it at all times. I made my way down to his balls. After a tongue washing, I took each, separately in my mouth, and gently sucked away. Derek grunted and called me "slut." I couldn't take offence. It was certainly very accurate. I focused on his balls. They seemed to me the source of his power over me. And I wanted to worship them. I sucked and lick them for quite some time. My focus was disturbed when he told me to check out the tip of his cock. I turned my head to look at it. It had been leaking semen – leaking semen right on my husband's pillow. "Lick the tip," he commanded. I complied. With my right cheek on my husband's pillow, I took Derek's cock in my mouth. He began short, sharp pelvic thrusts. This wasn't going to be so much of a blow job, but rather more of a face fuck. I felt his hand grip the back of my head, as he began to face fuck me in earnest. I could feel a damp spot forming on the pillow – and I could taste pre cum in my mouth. But even this wasn't good enough for Derek. After nearly fifteen minutes, he pulled his cock out of my mouth and told me to roll onto my stomach. Then he lifted me up and put me face down with my pussy directly on top of the pillow. He pulled me to the edge of the bed, and positioned himself between my legs. He was going to fuck me on my husband's own pillow. And we'd be leaving a big mess on it. And I was going to allow it! Derek simply ploughed into me. In an instant he had his entire cock embedded in me. I had absolutely zero will left. Even if my husband had walked in on us at that instant, I would have begged Derek to continue. I belonged to another man. It wasn't a matter of loving that other man. It was a matter of ownership. It wasn't a matter of the heart. It was a matter of the loins. Nothing to me could have been clearer than that Derek's cock was my first priority in life. And he so knew how to use it! I have never been fucked so perfectly as this time. He jack-hammered me and I responded with two absolutely crushing orgasms. I thanked him by telling him I hoped he was going to pump me more full of sperm than ever. He asked me, "So you want to mess hubby's pillow up?" But he wasn't really asking. He was telling. I grunted back a "yes." I felt his body tense up. And then I felt him cumming in me. The sensation lasted. Derek must be a very virile man. It took several moments before either of us could move. He had collapsed on top of me. His cock was still buried in me, and he used his position to grind me against the pillow. Finally it was time to roll off and see what damage we had done. The middle of the pillow was a sticky mess his cum mixed with mine. Derek admired his work. He used his cock to smear it over a bigger area. I knew that the afternoon wasn't over. Derek had never been satisfied with just once. "You are some whore," he smirked. He lay down on his stomach on the bed. "Here is what I want you to do." Derek outlined how the rest of the day should go. He wanted me to kiss my husband with my "spoiled" mouth and he wanted me to have my husband eat my pussy out again. And he wanted me to leave my husband's pillow a mess. I argued that it would be game over the second he saw the pillow. He told me I could use a hair blower on it to dry it up. But he was disallowing me from changing the pillow case. He felt he hadn't messed my mouth up enough though. So that would be next. "While I recuperate, I want you to eat my ass out – get your tongue in as far as it can go," he ordered. I was stunned. I've placed a finger by a man's ass before but I'd never tasted one. And I can honestly say I never wanted to either. Now Derek was a muscular man, without being a muscle man. I had admired his ass, when I wasn't obsessing over his cock. And there it was before me – that ass that I'd admired. He saw my reluctance and laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "It's clean." I felt so outrageous. The acts I had just committed had been the acts of a wild, wanton, slut. I decided that there was no sense and stopping now. I would try it. And with that, I bowed my head down, and kissed this man's ass. I didn't hedge my bet. I put my lips right on his asshole. There was no discernible taste, and the only odour was one of sweat. I let some of my spit drool out. It was time for my tongue. Gently at first, I tried to stick my tongue into his ass. The hole, I realized, is quite small. It took several pushes before I felt that I actually was achieving any kind of penetration. After about a minute, it became apparent that I was making an impact. Derek was grunting. I kept my lips directly on his ass hole. And I kept my tongue wriggling just inside the opening. With one hand I managed to reach under my chin to grab at his balls. He just grunted louder. My face was becoming a sticky mess as I continued to tongue fuck his ass. It was quite a while before he rolled over, leaving his cock near my face. I didn't need to be told what to do. I gave Derek a long, slow blow job. I paid appropriate attention to his balls, shaft and cock head. This, after all, was the object of my lust. This is what I was fixated on. Eventually he put his hands on the back of my head to better control the rhythm. I was his fuck toy. Things would be his way. Repeatedly that cock stabbed its way in to my mouth. I'd swirl my tongue around it, and clean any pre-cum from the slit. I could sense his urgency. The legs in his muscles were beginning to tighten. But instead of cumming, he stopped. He pulled my head off and told me that he'd be cumming soon, but that I shouldn't swallow. I had to keep his cum in my mouth. The blowjob proceeded. A Couple of minutes later Derek's cock erupted in my mouth. I was surprised at the quantity. When he was completely finished, I did as he asked, and didn't swallow. He brought my husband's pillow over in front of me. He told me to spit his cum on it. I paused for a moment to contemplate the sheer wickedness of the order and then complied. I open my mouth and allowed my spit and his cum to slide down my chin and onto the pillow. Wave after wave of the need to fuck hit me. My desire for Derek was at its peak. To his surprise, I again took him in my mouth. I wanted to keep him hard. I needed it. Derek is a stud. A minute later he was fucking me from behind. It was easily the best fuck I've ever had. He rutted on me like an animal. I got closer and closer to an orgasm, but it just wouldn't happen. It just built up. He slammed into me again and again. I was in another world – a world of swirling colours. If my husband walked in right then, I'd beg Derek to keep it up. Sex was all that mattered, and it had to be sex with Derek. Still, my orgasm was elusive. I felt wave after wave of pleasure, but no finish. I lost all sense of reality. The world of swirling colours had completely taken over. In reality, I had totally given myself to the sexual pleasure of this other man – this real man. He had the sexual ability to own me. It wasn't just something I wanted. It wasn't even something I needed. It was instead a sense that I had given him my will. It was all for him to decide and I'd obey. Derek was like the victorious ram. He had fended off the other males (my husband) and I was his prize. And he was showing me why he was the better male. He was a pure male sex machine, fucking me hard with his big cock reaching places my husband's couldn't. Finally Derek bellowed and came again deep inside me. My orgasm hit like a tidal wave. It crushed me. I literally lost consciousness. ---- I awoke with a start. I looked up at the clock and saw immediately that my husband would be home soon. I turned my head, looking for Derek, but didn't see him. As I moved I felt something between my legs and found that Derek had tried to stuff some of the pillow case into my vagina – with the pillow attached. The pillow was a sticky mess still. Some small part of me wanted to change the pillow case. But I really have to admit that a bigger part of me was totally turned on by not changing it. I followed Derek's instructions and got the hairdryer out. It took about ten minutes, but finally the wet sticky parts had dried. I put it too my nose and sniffed. The smell of sex was unmistakable. I had a problem. He'd notice. My husband would notice. And then I had an idea. ---- I greeted my husband at the door wearing his favourite lingerie. He knew I had sex on my mind. (He just had it wrong who the sex was with!) I grabbed him by the front of his pants and pulled him to the bedroom. I told him I didn't need any foreplay – that I was just horny and needed a quick fuck. He was more than happy to comply with his seemingly nympho wife's request. I took control and told him I wanted to be fucked from behind. And before he could say anything, I was on the bed grabbing his pillow which I placed under my stomach. My idea was simple. We'd have sex now, and if he noticed any odour, he'd think it was from our fucking, and not anything else. He wasted no time in mounting me. Six months ago, I would have enjoyed it. But now he seemed emasculated in my eyes. For the first time with him, I faked an orgasm. It triggered his own. The scheme worked. Later on we went to bed to sleep. He told me his pillow smelled like "sex." I smiled wickedly and told him "Sweet dreams," but added to myself "wimp." I lay awake with the clear realization that my husband was a wimp. Underneath his nose, another man had taken control of his wife – not by coercion; not by bribery; not by being wittier; not by being more caring; but by being more of a man. Jennifer's Longing Ch. 05 1. This story is best read after having read the previous 4 chapters. It's not a prerequisite; just a recommendation. 2. It appears in the Loving Wives section, because that it where Literotica seems to have kept the majority of such stories. 3. I'm interested in your comments, pro and con. I'm not interested in your moralizing and labeling though. Telling me what you would do to your wife if she behaved like the heroine here, is revealing of you, but not of no interest to me. 4. Let's remind those that need to be so reminded that this is a work of fiction. --------- Derek was coming over. Again. I was a young married woman in heat. Since our affair began I had found my lust becoming almost uncontrollable – and it was all directed toward Derek. Derek was into psychological domination and for whatever reasons, I desired to be psychologically sexually dominated by him. And his domination of me was always channeled through my husband. He had damaged the way I viewed my husband – and all because of my fixation with that big hard cock in Derek's pants. My husband had no knowledge of the affair. He didn't know that I was dressing sexy for another man. He didn't know that I told that other man how much better in bed he was. He didn't know that I was telling this man my husband was a wimp. He didn't know that he'd performed oral sex on me shortly after Derek had cum in me. He didn't know the pillow he slept on had been coated with the mess Derek left in me. He didn't know that he was no longer satisfying me. He didn't know I craved Derek's much bigger penis. Derek's psychological domination left me with no physical desire for my husband at all. I hadn't intended this to happen, but it happened nevertheless. What had started out as my weird obsession with having sex with a guy with a big penis, turned into the repression of any desire for my husband. Yes, Derek was coming over. And he warned me he was going to take it to the next level. --- I put on a skimpy white bra, and very skimpy bikini panties. I added to this a pair of very tight, faded jeans. I met him at the door this way. We kissed as the door was closing. His hands grabbed at my ass. My hands roamed his body. His tongue explored my mouth Derek told me he wanted me on my knees with his cock in my mouth as he told me what he had in mind. We went over to the couch and I got to business. I tugged his pants down to let loose his monster. He was quite hard already. There was the object of my desire. I kissed the tip of his cock and then rubbed my lips around the base. I then moved my lips down his shaft and attached them to his balls. Everything about Derek turned me on. For me, his balls were at the essence of his manhood. I took my time, sucking on each ball. I flitted my tongue against each testicle repeatedly. And then I'd fit each one into my mouth, one at a time. I sucked and tugged on them with my lips, coating them with my saliva. It was ten minutes later that I actually took his cock into my mouth. I wrapped my lips arounds his rigid cock and slowly took as much of him in as I could. "Good girl," was all he said, as he watched me intently. His cock was perfect and I wanted to pay him and it as much respect as possible. Keeping my mouth an inch away from its tip, I squeezed his shaft and balls with my hands to get some pre-cum to ooze out. I then made sure he watched as I licked it up, before taking as his cock back into my mouth. He clamped his hands onto the back of my head – a signal that he wanted to fuck my face. But first he announced his plans. "I want you to tell your husband you are thinking about fucking other men." I gasped. "What?" I stopped thinking about sex. But Derek poked his cock against my mouth and said, "You suck, and I'll talk." He pushed my head down on him again. "You'll do it slowly. Over time. You'll first tell him that some guy made a move on you; grabbed your butt, or whatever. You'll then tell him how some construction workers called out to you. Make up whatever stories you want and then grab him between the legs and ask him if the fact that your getting attention from other men turns him on." He paused and then said, "You can suck and listen at the same time, you know." I quickly responded by starting to bob my head up and down on his manhood. "Make sure he is hard and tell him it's apparent it does turn him on. Pretend you are surprised that you getting attention from other men would turn him on, and tell him you'll have to start telling him every time it happens." "See what he says. Maybe he'll admit to being turned on by it. Maybe he'll ask you for more stories. Tell him more. Make him cum in his pants!" "Tell him that it turns you on to turn him on so much so that you'll try wearing sexier outfits during the day, just so you can tell him other men's reactions. Tell him you weren't upset with the attention before, but in light of the fact that it turns him on, you kind of like it." "Keep on this theme regularly over the next couple of months. Several times a week, if you can. Make it a part of your sex with him." I could taste semen leaking from the tip of his cock and I flitted my tongue against it. What he was saying to me electrified me. He had brought me to a new level of being turned on. "And play the part. Let him know that you are dressing sexier when not with him. But tell him it's just because it turns him on. Tell him it's because he is turned on by the attention you are receiving." "Then take it to the next level. Tell him some guy kissed you at an office Christmas party and that you were so surprised it took you a couple of seconds to break the kiss. Tell him how some guy asked you out at the gym and persisted even when you told him you were married. And tell him about some raunchy comment some guy made to you about how you look. Just make it up." "Let him "know" that you were wearing a flirty little black dress when that guy kissed you. And that you were wearing your tiny black spandex short shorts when you were at the gym. And that you were wearing your tightest jeans and a mini shirt when that guy made the raunchy comment. "Keep it going. Tell him how some guy pressed the front of his pants against your butt on the elevator at work and that you could feel his bulge. Tell him some guy put his hand on you while you were standing on the bus and you pretended not to notice." "And don't forget to tell him how turned on you are by all this – always because of how turned on it makes him. And only tell him these things when you are grabbing at his cock. Always make sure he is turned on because even if these stories don't do anything for him at first, like Pavlov's dogs after a while he'll associate the stories with being turned on. You are going to convert him into more of a wimp than he already is." The last strand of loyalty to my husband then kicked in. I wanted to protest just for the sake of protesting. But he had increased the strength of his grip on my head and moments later he was pumping my mouth with globs of sperm. Whatever thought of loyalty to my husband I had were fleeting. This man – no, really, this man's cock – owned me. And I was here to satisfy it. I finished him off slowly, keeping him in my mouth, sticking the tip of my tongue against the head of his cock. I continued to squeeze and milk his balls with my fingers. He grunted in satisfaction. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and rubbed it clean against my face. He continued his orders. "It will be time eventually, to take it to the next stage. Go to an office party or event; or go out with the girls one night. Tell him how you went to a bar and that guys were trying to get you on the dance floor all night. And tell him how one guy succeeded. Tell him that when a slow song started you wanted to get off the floor but he puts his arms around you and insisted you stay. Tell him how the guy pressed against you the whole time and that thinking about it turned you on." "You'll be making the switch now, you see. Before, what turned you on was turning on him. Now what's turning you on is the other guy. You'll keep up with the stories, but you'll gradually make the switch." "You'll tell him you liked the fact that some guy grabbed your ass. You'll tell him you liked the attention. You'll tell him you liked being asked out by other guys. You'll tell him you like dressing sexy so other men will notice. But you won't tell him you like these things only because it turns him on. You'll like them because other men are turning you on." "Now always remark on how turned on he gets by you flirting with other men. Masturbate him each time you are telling him a story. The positive reinforcement will work well on him I'd bet. He'll begin to think he likes the idea of you flirting with other men. Even if he feels threatened by it, his cock will win over his brain. He'll be willing to let you continue." "Now let's give you a timetable – say six months max. No later than six months from today and I want you to have told him you've been thinking about sex with another man or other men; that the idea really turns you on; that you want to do it; and that you know it will turn him on too." "You can do this as fast as you want or you can take the full six months. But your ultimate goal is to convince him to let you fuck another man. And that other man will be me - even though he won't know it." ----- I considered what he said for a few moments. Then I asked, "What if things don't go according to plan?" "What if he can't be convinced?" "What if early on he tells me to stop talking about other guys?" Derek looked at me and grinned. "That will be your problem." "You just better make sure he is so turned on; that your hand grabbing the front of his pants is doing such a good job that he won't have the guts to tell you to stop." "And if you don't succeed, you don't get this as he pushed his only semi-erect cock against my mouth again. With that, Derek picked me up off my knees and took my hand and guided me to my marital bedroom. Every atom in my body was ready for the fucking I was about to receive. He took me in the missionary position. We were joined as one. Within the first minute I had an earth shattering orgasm. For forty five minutes, Derek rocked my world. I wanted him in me. I wanted his cum in me. I even wanted him to impregnate me. My hands roamed his muscular body as I willingly accepted his deep thrusts. At some point Derek managed to find his voice and said to me while continuing to fuck me, "Tell me you are going to do it." I surrendered to his command and told him I would. I knew too that I would. This was more than just a pleasure fuck – this was a mating. ---- My husband came home that evening. I hadn't told him I had taken a half day off. I had an excuse ready if he had found out, but if he were to call me he usually left a message on my cell phone, and I had checked and he hadn't. I had changed into a short black skirt and a pink blouse – something I would wear to work. Underneath I had on a white lacey bra and a skimpy white bikini bottom. The blouse was sheer enough that you could faintly see the bra through it, unless I was wearing a jacket (and I wasn't wearing a jacket). I had unbuttoned an extra button on the blouse. We sat down on the couch and I gave him a sexy kiss. I began to talk. I told him I had had "quite the adventure today." And as I told him, I moved my hand down to the front of his pants. He quickly got hard. I told him that a guy named Rick, who works in our filing warehouse, came up behind me while I was doing some filing, put his arm around me, and then to my surprise, he kissed me on the mouth! I told him I was so surprised it took me a few seconds to react. And I told him that I managed to push Rick off and remind him I'm married. But then I added that Rick just smiled and kissed me on my mouth again! I managed to pull away from him this time, but not without Rick grabbing at my ass once last time. My husband called him a "bastard," but I just smiled a wicked smile and said, "It seems, though, it turned you on." I could see the future. Jennifer's Longing Ch. 06 Notes: 1.It would really be beneficial to read the first 5 chapters of this story. 2. All comments welcome, especially those who can't separate fiction from reality - you really are the most amusing. Next in the amusement category are the moralizers. 3. I'm still not responsible for the nature of the stories in the "Loving Wives" section - perhaps some of you need to just accept the fact that a section just might have an "ironic" name. 4. For others - yes, I recognize the provocations in 2 and 3. Here goes chatper 6: I arrived home from work. It was Friday and it was going to be an eventful day. I had worked very hard to get to this point and tonight my husband and I were going to cross a boundary that there was no turning back from. I had successfully planted a seed and watered it until it germinated. For three months, I nurtured the idea in my husband's head that he was turned on by my getting attention from other men. I told him stories of comments made, wolf whistles, ass-pinching, and guys making moves on me. I then immediately commented on how turned on he seemed by hearing them. Over those three months, he became more at ease with the stories; more accepting of these stories as a part of our sex life. In the year previous, I had perhaps given him a hand job 2 or 3 times. But now I had slowly moved away from sex with him, and was giving him hand jobs 2 or 3 times a week – each time accompanied by a story, almost all of which were entirely false (though he believed every word). Sure – we still had sex. But real sex, for me, is what I had with Derek. So I would jack him off, telling him about how some manager I worked with grabbed my ass or made some move. I made sure he associated the sex sensations with stories of me turning on other men. This is what Derek wanted. It wasn't good enough for Derek that he was getting a young attractive girl in bed. It wasn't good enough for him that that girl was married and was willing to do anything to please him. For Derek, sex was conquest. And the true ultimate conquest, for him, wasn't the girl; it was the other man. He didn't want to just take the girl away from her man, behind his back. He wanted the other man to know it was happening. He wanted the other man to know there was nothing he could do about it. He wanted the other man to acquiesce to it. That is a conqueror – to be able to take another man's possession and have the other man submit to it. Now when you push someone's boundaries, if you want to be successful, you push them slowly, allowing the ideas to take root. The stories I had been telling my husband basically evolved around other men expressing their interest in me – and my role had been passive. The next step was a small one – I needed to make my role a little less passive. I began to introduce subtle changes to my stories. I told him about how I dressed provocatively; how I wanted to get a reaction from other men – but always for the sole reason of telling him later to turn him on. I was no longer a passive agent here. I was playing a part in provoking the events that made up these stories. And I was lengthening the encounters, allowing more to happen to me. I told him stories about imaginary guys at work taking me out for a quick drink and how they spent the hour checking out my legs because my skirt was so short (when in fact I was in bed with Derek – but he didn't need to know that, yet.). I told him how I even unbuttoned an extra button on my blouse when I had lunch with some guy. And I told him how that guy kissed me and how I let him kiss me for a few seconds. These stories were turning him on. I made sure of it. I made sure he was aware of it. And I reported all of it back to Derek. He got a good laugh out of what I'd tell him. He reminded me of the time he had cum in my mouth and then made me kissing my unknowing husband, and then told me that soon he'd be cumming in my mouth and I'd then be kissing my husband who'd know what I had just been doing. One evening we were in bed, after a session where we actually had sex. I stroked him lovingly and told him how I really like turning him on and how it turned me on to turn him on, and how getting all this attention from other men was really turning me on too. I told him I bet that he was fantasizing about me having sex with another guy. I told him that I bet it would be the biggest turn on to him. This was a critical point. It could have been a push too far. It could have been a mistake which would have dismantled all the progress I had made. It could even have led to a fight. As it was, his initial response was that he never wanted to share me. It was that simple. I saw the possibility that all of my work could have gone down the drain. But whether it was instinct or quick reasoning, while I lay beside him in bed, I reached down under the sheets and wrapped my fingers from each hand around his penis and balls and tugged. It responded. I looked him in the eye and said that maybe he didn't want to share me, but it seemed the idea of it did turn him on. He smiled. I kept tugging. I told him how I knew it would turn him on – because we are "so on the same page sexually". I told him how he's proud that he married such a sexy girl and how he's proud that his girl can turn other guys on. I told him he liked the idea of his girl being a secret slut, bedding another guy and telling him all about it – how we made out; how I sucked his cock; how I let him fuck me. His penis had become hard again from my hand job. I told him it was turning me on. And I told him to tell me how much it was turning him on. He said nothing. But I was persistent. Both my hands were down there milking him. "Tell me that it turns you on!" I said. With the fourth request, he complied, and proceeded to spray cum on the bed sheets. We kissed. I told him I knew him so well. We had made good progress. He so far didn't feel threatened. We went to sleep. Meanwhile the seed had germinated. The next day, my stories to my husband changed again. They were still mostly untrue of course. But he quite obviously believed them. Now, I was adding a hypothetical part. I'd tell him about how some guy made a pass at me of some kind, and then I'd add a part about how much it would turn him (my husband) on if I had accepted the offer and gone off to the guy's place to fuck him. I added that I thought the guy was good looking. Weeks past. I had to be careful. I couldn't very well have something happening to me every day. I didn't want to seem so scripted. This approach continued to work. Truthfully, my husband was more horny than ever. If I saw a good looking guy on TV, I'd tell him that I thought he was sexy. On a couple of occasions I even added that I'd like to fuck that guy. He took it all in stride. Derek had been right. I knew that we were coming near to the end game. I was going to have to make the switch from the hypothetical "I'd like to fuck that guy" to the actual "I'd like to fuck that guy." I had successfully broken down all the barriers except the last one. He knew I was a hot girl. He got turned on by me turning on other guys. He got turned on by me dressing sexy for other guys. He got turned on by my mild sexual contact with other guys. He got turned on by me talking about it. And some how, through all that, I had convinced him that really it was all or almost all about him – that I was just doing it because it turned me on to turn him on. I made sure that he never thought I was interested in another man for its own sake. He just couldn't get threatened. So the time was right – or as right as it ever could be. I had to ask him if he'd be okay if I fucked another man. I wanted it to seem like I was asking his permission. I wanted it to seem like it was just a small extension of what we had been fantasizing about. I wanted it to seem like the next logical step, given that there were now eight different guys that I was fabricating stories about. No matter what you might be thinking, it's not an easy thing to do. No matter how far I had gotten, the situation could turn into a train wreck very easily. In spite of how it might seem to you, I loved my husband. But sexually, I was meant for Derek. And I'm a sexual being – as are you. Don't judge me unless you've walked in my shoes. Sure, my relationship with my husband had evolved in ways I hadn't ever imagined. And sure, if Derek had asked, I would have left my husband for him. But that doesn't mean it would have been easy. The opportunity to act presented itself to me soon enough. Derek had to take a business trip to Miami, and he asked me to come along. I told my husband that some of us at my company had to go to a convention. Underneath the business clothes I packed I hid my trampy outfits that Derek insists on (and that I have no problem wearing). For three nights and four days, I was nothing more than a sexual animal. I was dressed for sex. I was undressed for sex. And Derek and his big penis conquered me. I was overwhelmed by the desire to have his sperm in me – my lust was that deep. And that has brought us to today - this fateful Friday. When I got back home I was presented with this opportunity. I told my husband another story during a masturbation session – that on one of the evenings I was away, I had had a few drinks, and came very close to going to another guy's room for the night. I told him that we had spent about 20 minutes kissing and that the guy had his hands roam my body. And then I told my husband that the thing that prevented me from doing it was that I didn't have his permission. Perhaps it was the lack of sex for a few days – really, I don't know. But that night my husband's cock erupted and shot higher than I'd ever seen it go. And it landed right back on his belly. I commented on it. He liked that. My husband went to the bathroom to wipe off and then went down on me "to take care of me," he said. We curled up afterward and I looked him in his eyes and asked him if I had his permission to fuck another guy. He responded gently. He told me he didn't want to lose me to another guy and that it made him get all jealous. I told him that he'd never lose me and that part of the reason I would do it was because it would turn him on, and admitted it would turn me on too. I told him that it wasn't like I was proposing I see the guy every night, or even every week – it might just be a one time deal, depending on how things go. And then I added the kicker – I told him that I thought he was a better lover when he was a little bit jealous, so really, I liked making him a little bit jealous. He thought silently for a few moments. I reached down to his already erect again penis and reminded him how much the idea of it turned him on. Finally he spoke: "Well, if it's just a one time thing..... But it can't be with any of our friends.....And I don't think it's a good idea to fuck somebody from your office." The game was over. I kissed him and told him I agreed with those restrictions. I told him I didn't have anyone in mind right then, and that I wanted to be choosy – someone who turned me on – because if I was going to have sex with another guy, I had better make sure that the sex was good. And then I smirked and tugged between his legs and told him I'd tell him all the details. I took the final step the next Thursday. After a day at the office I had gone to my fitness club to work out, and then made my way home. My husband was there already. I told him I needed to talk to him. We moved to the couch, as, to his surprise, I stripped off my clothes. I told him that I had met someone we hadn't seen for a couple of years at my fitness club. I told him it was Derek. I wasn't sure if he'd remember Derek, but he did. He remembered Derek was relatively tall. I told him I think Derek will be the one – and I spelled it out – the one I go to bed with. My husband was surprised. "Isn't that a bit fast?" he said defensively. I reminded him I wasn't looking for a boyfriend, I was looking for a sex partner – and what I wanted in a sex partner was someone I thought was really sexy and I thought Derek was a really sexy guy, with a toned muscular body, and that the only other requirement would be that he'd be good in bed. He responded that I couldn't know if he'd be good in bed. I smiled back and told him there was only one way to find out. My husband seemed withdrawn. I put my hands on the front of his pants and told him he looked cute when he was jealous. We kissed. We had dinner. After dinner we sat down on the couch again. He asked, "When is this going to happen?" "And how do you know he's even interested?" I told him I couldn't be certain Derek was interested, but he asked me to join him for a drink tomorrow night and I told him I had the evening free because you were going out with some friends. "So you already arranged it, without asking me?" I told him he was silly. He had already agreed to me bedding another guy and it was up to me who I'd choose! "If I'm going to be a slutty adulterer, I'm going to choose a guy I think is hot!" He admitted he was being silly and said it was just hard to accept that it was just happening so soon. I told him I had agreed to meet Derek at his place – telling him he lived in an apartment – and that while Derek was likely expecting to take me to a bar or restaurant somewhere, if I had my way, we'd go straight to his bed. To win over a bit of sympathy, I told him that I, too, was nervous about this, and wanted to get it underway as soon as is possible rather than to dwell on things for days. "So you are sure Derek is the guy?" my husband asked. "Yeah, I'm sure," I replied. I told him Derek was the kind of guy that with one look at him I'd know I'd like to bed him. He asked me if I was going to spend the night with Derek. I hadn't anticipated that question. I told him "no", though, because Derek would be expecting that I go back to my husband. He was running out of questions and objections. He had accepted that I was going to cuckold him and he had accepted who I was going to be with. He asked me how things were going to work tomorrow. I told him that I was going to race home after work, take a shower and get dressed and go. And I said he should stay up and wait for me to get back. Friday was the most erotic day of my life. I awoke in my husband's arms. We both knew I would be fucking another man that night. On my part, for the first time, I wouldn't be fucking that man behind his back. On his part, he was contemplating having an unfaithful wife – a wife that wanted to be pleased by another man. I told him I was so turned on and that I'd take care of him when I got back. He wanted sex right then, but I put him off and told him to wait. When I got home from work I was a little surprised to see my husband already home. He said he wanted to send me off. I showered and then went to my closet to get choose an outfit. My husband watched as I put on a pair of very tight low rise jeans and a white tank top without a bra. I could tell from his expression what he was thinking and said, "Yeah – I'm just making sure this is going to happen." We walked to the door and we kissed gently. I reached down and grabbed him and told him I'd take care of him afterward. Then I walked out the door. At Derek's, I filled him in on the usual details. I really doubt a man can cum without any kind of physical stimulation, but Derek sure came close. He was exultant that evening. He was living his dream – to fuck another guy's hot wife with that other guy's compliance. The sperm flowed freely, in me and on me. I shared in Derek's rapture, pleased that I had been able to deliver. I wanted Derek's sperm in my womb and he gladly delivered. Afterward, I actually looked forward to going home.