36 comments/ 67299 views/ 11 favorites Her Secret Past Ch. 01 By: Joatster I was walking down the terminal searching for the gate to my connecting flight at the Atlanta terminal when it all fell apart. I had just turned on my cell phone so that I could check in with my secretary when it rang in my hand. The caller ID showed that it was my wife's cell phone. "Hi hon." "You Son-of-A-Bitch!" My wife's tearful anger radiated from the cell phone I held to my ear. "How could you do that to me?" The phone clicked in my ear and I was listening to my own heart racing. My guilty conscience filled in the rest. I work for a large high tech consulting firm, one of the original "Beltway-Bandits." We have a program that brings in college juniors and seniors for 2 month summer internships. The kids get a little real work experience and a summer job. We get slave labor and the chance to try out a lot of would be hires without having to commit to hiring them permanently. Last Friday we had a going away party at the office for the interns that had been our copy slaves and coffee gofers for us over their summer break. Our group had five interns assigned to us. We were not going to end up hiring any of them. They were bright and hard working, but our firm demands far more than that. These kids would all be fine for most places, but we were looking for the cream of the crop, people with the smarts, personality, and drive to be the best in the business. All of these kids had one or two of those qualities, but no one was a complete package. Sandy Mathers had the smarts and personality, but her drive was going to ensure that the best she could hope for was to catch a wealthy husband. That way she would be able to live off of his income while spending her time shopping at the exclusive stores and toning herself at the gym. She was a beautiful little dark eyed brunette with a happy personality. She just didn't have the hard charging "I'll work 'til I drop" attitude we look for in our new hires. Her attitude was that work was a social event that took second place to her evening and weekend social whirl. We combined their going away party with celebrating the win of a new government contract that would keep us feeding at the public trough for years to come. The proposal and award process had been arduous and everyone in my group had put in lots of work on it. After the soft drinks and cookies stage of the party most of us went to the local sports bar for wings and beer. Without going into too much detail (I'm kinda fuzzy on it anyway...), I ended up in the parking lot with little Sandy. We were both drunkenly groping and kissing each other. Then, she dropped her head into my lap and proceeded to give me an unskilled blow job. This was my only marital indiscretion -- the result of lots of work stress being cut loose, too much beer, and a cute little twenty two year old with her hand on my leg. Lame excuses aside, I knew I screwed up. I was wracked with guilt from the time it happened. To make matters worse, I had to leave the following Monday for a five day business trip. I spent the weekend trying to be extra nice to my wife to assuage my guilty conscience. I didn't know if it was one of the wives that came to the sports bar that spotted what happened in that parking lot and told my wife, or if Sandy had done or said something that got back to my wife. Whatever it was, something had happened. Before I even got all the way out of town, someone had said something to my wife. Last night and over the weekend we had chatted and played with no sign of any problems beyond my guilty conscience. Then, just as I was moving through the crowds to get to my connecting flight was the call that changed everything. I was devastated. I tried calling her back to no avail. The house line just rang. She'd turned off the answering machine. Her cell phone rolled over to voice mail. I couldn't think of anything I could say to the machine that could express my feelings adequately, so I just hung up. The two and a half hour flight was hell. I ran scenarios over and over of what could have happened, and of how to properly beg for forgiveness from the love of my life. I arrived at my destination and tried calling again. This time she answered her cell phone. Her voice was all but emotionless this time. She answered the phone with, "Please stop calling me. I need some time." "I can get a flight back leaving in an hour," I said. " We need to talk." "No. Stay there. Do your work. I need time. Don't call me. I'll call you in a couple of days." CLICK. The line disconnected. I went on to my meetings. I was a total zombie there. It was fortunate that I had done enough prep work to fake my way through things on autopilot. My thoughts were definitely not on what was in front of me. Monday and Tuesday nights were hell. I wanted to call Debbie so much, but didn't want to push her. If she needed time to come to grips with my stupid mistake, then I would give it to her. I spent the evening playing scenarios in my head of what I could say or do to make it up to her. I was an emotional wreck. The lack of sleep and not having an appetite was turning me into a physical wreck as well. Wednesday evening was particularly hard. I was guessing that she would call that night so I left early and grabbed a greaseburger and fries on the way from work to the hotel. I sat on the bed staring at my cell phone from five until eight that evening, checking every five minutes that the battery was fully charged and that I had a strong signal. I almost fainted with relief when she called right at eight. I held the phone, looking at the caller ID, and took a deep breath. "Hello, Debbie. Thanks for calling," I answered with my planned opening. I paused to let her respond. "I said I would. I told you I needed time," she said quietly. "We need to talk about things -- lot's of things. And I don't think the phone is the best way to do it." "I can get a flight out first thing in the morning," I leapt in. I wanted to get face to face with her and explain what happened and that I realized how I had hurt her and us with my stupidity. "I know you are hurt and I want to make it right. I love you dearly and have made an awful mistake. You are so important to me. I never wanted to hurt you. I can make it up..." I was babbling. Bits and pieces of all the little preplanned speeches were trying to gush out. "No," she cut me off. "I still need this time. I need to put things in perspective. I love you. I don't want to be without you. But I need to handle my own feelings on this before I will know how to forgive you. You shattered the world I built. I need time to find a place to start rebuilding again." I wasn't sure what she was talking about. Rebuilding? It sounded like something from Oprah or Cosmo to me. It was the kind of woman talk that never made sense to men. All I got from what she said was that she wasn't cutting me out of her life and that forgiveness was in the works. I should have listened better. "OK, honey. I'll give you all the time and space you need. Like I said, I know I've done wrong and want to make things right again," I said. "But, can I call in the evenings?" "I'd rather not," she replied. " I don't want to try to deal with things on the phone. Lets use this as some cooling off time. I'll see you at the airport on Friday evening, OK?" "Well...alright. But don't hesitate to call anytime you need anything. I'll be happy to drop everything and come home right away." "I'll call if I need. Otherwise, I'll see you on Friday." "I love you," I said. But she had already hung up. Patience was never a virtue that I possessed in measure. The next day at lunch I wrapped things up and headed to the airport a day early. I debated calling her to tell her I was on the way, but decided that she would try to get me to hold off for another day. I couldn't do that. I took a taxi home from the airport. It was about 9:00 in the evening by the time the cab found it's way out to our little piece of suburbia. The house was dark and empty. Debbie was nowhere to be found. I tried her phone once I got in and settled a little. No luck, so I called a couple of her friends. I told them I got in early and was looking for Debbie to let her know I was in -- no luck. My next step was to open the liquor cabinet and commune with Jack Daniels. It was much, much later when I was shaken awake by my wife. I had put away more alcohol in a few hours than I normally drink in a year. As I blearily came back to a semi-conscious state, I realized that she was dressed to kill. She had on a short black skirt that showed her sexy legs to great advantage. Her athletic build was displayed beautifully. The white knit top hugged her small firm breasts tightly enough to demonstrate to all that she didn't need a bra. I was too fuzzy to tell if the smudged makeup and less than crisp look was due to my blurry eyes or real. She led me to the bedroom, got my shoes and belt off and let me crash without a word being spoken. I woke late the next morning. The sunshine peeking through a crack in the curtains was blinding. It took me the better part of an hour to shower, dress, and start operating in a non-zombie mode. I tried to understand the fuzzy memories of being led to bed by my sexily dressed wife. I saw no evidence of her having been in the bedroom or the bath. The smell of a big breakfast hit me as I entered the kitchen. I knew she was home. Debbie pointed me to the table and set a plate in front of me. "Eat up," she said, "Then we have some talking to do." Breakfast was almost normal -- except for the tension in my gut. Debbie caught me up on the domestic goings on; one of the sprinkler heads was stuck and not working, her car had been named in a recall for a new airbag, I needed to fill out some information for the new health insurance program that my company had switched to. Very normal day-to-day stuff. After we ate and cleaned up, Debbie led me into the dining room and we sat across the table from each other. "Why did you come home last night?" she asked me. "I couldn't work for the worry. I wanted to sit with you and try to make things right. I wanted to apologize for what I did and try to start getting us past it." I looked at her across the table, "Let's go sit on the couch together. It'll be more comfortable." "No. A little discomfort is better right now," she stated. "What do you remember of last night?" "Not much. Just that you helped me upstairs and put me to bed. I waited for you for hours," I complained. Then I kicked myself. I didn't need to attack. I needed to be contrite and start working to build her trust. Damn! "You seem to have occupied yourself quite well," she said. "You were pretty wasted." "I've been very upset..." I began. "So have I," she said calmly. "More upset than you may realize. You don't have any idea how your actions have upset my world." I had been ready for tears and anger like that first phone call. This deliberate calmness from her was unsettling. This discussion was not going anywhere near the way I had envisioned it. "You really don't know. You don't know me. You don't know what this has done to me," she said. "If we are going to work things out...going to stay together, then you have to understand. You have to know all about me." I was stunned into silence. How could my wife of ten years be saying this. I knew her better than anyone on the planet. Her father died before she was born. Then, her mother was killed in a car wreck when Debbie was 13 and raised by foster parents that had taken care of her until she finished high school. We met in college and married two weeks after we both graduated. I reflected back on our first months together. I had just finished my undergraduate degree and had started an MBA program at UT in Austin. Debbie was an incoming junior transferring to UT from the branch campus down in San Antonio. I met her at the student union one day in September. It was smoking hot like only Texas can get in September. I had found a cool dark hidden corner in the building that suited me well for studying. I was lost in reading when I was interrupted by someone tapping my shoulder. "Uhm...is it ok...I mean do you mind if I share your table?" a soft female voice asked. I looked up and my heart skipped a beat. Here was this petite little blue eyed blonde asking if she could sit at my table. She was wearing athletic shorts and a dark t-shirt. Her legs looked tan and strong. She looked like she had been built out of my dream idea of what a woman should look like. By the end of that first meeting I realized that I liked much more than her looks. We really clicked. We were both new to the school and had not had a lot of social contact with anyone there. We both liked that quiet corner for study. And, most important of all, we really liked each other. We dated for a couple of months before we went beyond light petting. I'll never forget the first time I saw her naked. She had come back with me to my little apartment after we had seen some movie together. We were sitting on the couch kissing and cuddling when she suddenly pulled back from me. I was taken aback. I hadn't had "wandering hands" or done anything. Her words explained it to me. "Please, make love to me," she said shyly. Then she stood up and began undressing. I sat and watched hungrily as she removed her clothes. She didn't dance or perform a strip tease, she simply removed her clothing until she stood naked before me. God! She was breathtaking. I could see the curves of her body. Her breasts were beautiful little handfuls topped with crinkled aureoles and hard pink nipples. She had shaved her self down to what I have always called a "racing stripe". Even better, I could see the shape of that sexy little triangle gap formed where her thighs met her pudenda. Her pussy lips were pink, verging on red with excitement. I fell to my knees in front of her and began nuzzling and licking at her pussy. It wasn't long before she was on her back on the floor pushing her hips up to meet my face and fingers. She was sweet tasting and incredibly responsive. I also found that she was multi-orgasmic. Once she started coming, she seemed to stay there and peak to a mini-orgasm over and over. Finally, after about ten minutes of constant orgasm she pushed my hand away and rolled to her side moaning, "Oh God. I want more but I'm way to sensitive to go on." I pulled my clothes off, picked her up, and carried her to the bedroom. I laid her carefully on the bed and gave her a long slow backrub. I was straddling her and my very hard cock was nestled in the crease of her tight little butt. Before long I noticed that Debbie was moving her hips against me. I pulled back a little and placed the head of my cock against her beautiful pussy lips. With a groan of delayed ecstasy, I slid myself into her dripping hot canal. She continued grinding her hips under me while I slid in and out of her. My balls were dragging against her legs and providing me extra stimulation that was driving me wild. Debbie pulled one of my hands to her face and began giving "head" to one of my fingers. I didn't last long. Once I came, Debbie rolled over and took me in her hand and stroked and massaged my cock and balls until I was fully hard again. Then she pushed me on my back and straddled me. We spent the next thirty minutes in that position moving against each other. Sometimes she would sit up and I would reach up and massage her little breasts and pull on her nipples. Other times she would hug me tight and hump hard against me. Finally she leaned down and kissed me as I felt her start coming over and over while she ground against me. Her tongue and mine dueled and explored each others mouths until I felt my nuts tighten and then I exploded into her. It was some of the most intense sex I had ever had. We continued dating, and having hot sex, through graduation. The wedding followed shortly after that. I had been recruited by a top notch consulting firm in the DC area, and Debbie picked up a nice job as an office manager for a defense contractor. Life fell into the standard yuppie routine -- long hours and a diminishing, but still satisfying, sex life. That is where we were when all of this happened. "What do you know about me?" Debbie asked me. "I mean from before we met." "Well...the Johnsons took you in when your parents died in the wreck. You went to Churchill High School down in San Antonio. You started college at UTSA..." I groped along. I wasn't really sure what she wanted. "That's all true, but what do you know about me from back then?" She asked. "I uhh...well, the Johnsons were nice enough, you had a fairly normal life outside of losing your folks...." "You really don't know much about me from then. Haven't you ever been curious about why I don't seem to have a lot of friends from back then? Didn't you wonder why I wanted a simple civil ceremony instead of a big wedding with family and friends from everywhere?" "Not really. We were happy together, that is what mattered." I replied lamely. "You are a bright guy, but sometimes you can be pretty blind." She said, quietly. There was a pause. She seemed to be gathering herself. "What I need to tell you is pretty involved. There is a whole side to me that you don't know -- have never known." My jaw moved, but no sounds came from my mouth. This was so far from anything I expected that I had no response. I had no clue what she was talking about. She clasped her hands in front of her at the table. "Your little dalliance was the straw that broke the camel's back. It caused me to revisit some things about myself...decisions I made before we met." I was lost. I didn't know where she was going, but I thought I'd at least try to throw myself on her mercy again. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I had too much to drink and..." Debbie cut me off. "I know what happened. You've been focused on that contract. You were the one responsible for much of the proposal development. The stress, the drinks, and the little bimbo fluttering her eyes at you came together in a 'perfect storm'. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. I'm pretty much past all of that at this point," she said, startling me. "This isn't just about your monumental stupidity the other day. That was just the precipitating incident. All the factors that led me to reconsider myself were building anyway." Honesty. Sheer open honesty, I decided. That would be my only saving grace here. "I have no idea what we are talking about. I'm sorry babe, but I'm lost. I did something stupid that I have regretted since I did it. I hate that it hurt you and hurt your trust in me. But I'm confused and don't have a clue about what you are telling me." Debbie looked at me for a long time. Finally she took a deep breath and said, "Okay. I want you to listen to me. No interruptions, no questions, nothing unless I ask a specific question of you. You can ask all you want when I'm done. Will you do that for me?" "Sure, honey. Anything you say." Where was she going with this? "Moving to Austin was a big change for me. It was a lot more than going from the small school to the big time university and moving from the mostly conservative city I grew up in to the home of every hippy dippy fruitcake in the state of Texas." she paused a moment before continuing. "I was turning over a new leaf. I remade myself when I moved to Austin. The girl you met in the student union that fall wasn't the same one that had been in San Antonio the previous summer. Not by a long ways." "Honey, everyone changes during those years, whether they are in college or not. There is usually a lot of maturing that goes on at that age." She looked at me and shook her head. "You don't get it. You have always seen me as a 'good girl' -- a modern version of of...I don't know. Maybe June Cleaver and Carol Brady combined with Gidget or something. That wasn't me. Not from the start of high school until I left San Antonio." Her Secret Past Ch. 01 "But...but what does that have to do with..." I fumbled. "No interruptions!" she said. "Just listen to me." I nodded in confused response. Her next words froze me in place. "I was a slut," she said looking me in the eye. "I fucked hundreds of men and women between the end of middle school and when I moved to Austin. I loved anonymous sex. I couldn't get enough. I would fuck just about anyone -- young, old, fat, nasty. In fact, the nastier the better most times. I liked hot nasty sex. I loved doing the taboo, breaking the rules. Once I got going, I'd have evening long orgasms. Some nights I'd fuck six or eight guys in a row. I'd go to a club and drag them around back or into the parking lot one at a time. Other times, I'd take them on in groups. Over those years, I fucked my teachers, I fucked the neighbors, and I fucked most of my high school class. I also fucked the Johnsons -- a lot." I remained frozen. The activities she was describing were so...so not my wife. I couldn't process it. It was a massive case of cognitive dissonance. It is fair to say that I was in shock as well as plain shocked. I felt my face go numb. My breathing was shallow and I broke out in a cold sweat. Debbie continued without mercy. "The Johnsons were...different. When I first moved in with them I was mostly lost in my own grief and didn't notice anything. After being there for about six months, I started paying more attention. Turns out they were very active swingers, or rather Linda was very promiscuous. Larry played around some. Linda seduced me when I started asking questions about her "nights out". Then she encouraged me to start having sex with classmates. I took to it like a Democrat to tax dollars. My junior year in high school, I tripped Larry. The rest of the time I lived with them, I slept in bed with the two of them." I still had no response. What could I say? Maybe a disinterested bystander could come up with a reasonable response to this, but my brain and body were stunned into paralysis. "I got into some pretty damn kinky stuff my freshman year at UTSA. I played with a bunch of folk into BDSM. I was tied up and whipped. I was spanked with a switch in front of an audience. I also tried the other side of the game -- I topped men and women. I was good at it, too. Come to think about it, I was a pretty good bottom as well." She paused with a far away look in her eye. Then she shook her head as if forcing herself back on target. "I had a lot of fun with all of that kinky stuff, but it paled after a while. By the summer between my freshman and sophomore year, I was looking for something more. I had a few regular lovers that I started playing in public with. I loved the sneaky sex in dressing rooms or bathrooms. The thought of getting caught was a real thrill...almost as big as the thrill of actually getting caught." Again, she drifted away in her private memories. "I guess we all have our wild times," I said. "Some wilder than others, but just wild times." I was trying to minimize the impact of what she said. Debbie locked eyes with me. "I even paid for my sophomore year as an escort. Three hundred a throw. Four or five guys a week, sometimes more. I did it for the thrill, not the money." "Uhm...Debbie." I said. "I don't know what to say. How did you...what happened? I mean...I never saw any hint of that in you." I wasn't up to eloquence at that point, but my brain was starting to come back on line a little. "I think you've had enough for the moment. You look pretty rough. I'll give you a little time to absorb things. There is a lot more for me to tell you if you want to hear it." She looked at her watch, "I'm going to the store. I'll be back in two or three hours. When I get back I'll tell you more if you want to hear it. If, while I'm gone, you decide you can't live with who I was...who I am, then I'll pack a bag and get out of your life." I was recovered enough to realize that I did need some time to process things a bit. "Okay. I'll be here, but you won't need to pack a bag. I love you and that isn't going to change." She smiled sadly. "You need to hear the rest before you decide anything." With that she grabbed her keys and headed out the door. Her Secret Past Ch. 02 (Note: Thanks to all the kind people who wrote asking me to finish this story. I've wrestled all around with this thing and finally feel like I am starting to win. I have at least one more section to go after this -- I promise I'll get it done faster than this section now that I've figured out where to take it. Drop me a note if you liked this or have constructive criticism.) Debbie came back two hours later with groceries plus some curtain stuff from one of those 'big box' stores. She called to me and put me to work unloading the car. It was like everything was perfectly normal -- except for the gut wrenching feelings I had every time I looked at my wife. "Okay," she said as she wrapped up the last of those little plastic grocery bags. "We've both had some time to think about what I said earlier. I want to hear your thoughts, but first I have a couple of things to say. Is that alright with you?" "Yes. I guess so." "First, and most importantly, I love you. I want to spend my life with you. I pray that we find a way through all of this." She paused and looked at me. I just nodded. "Second, keeping this from you was killing me. I am so scared of what my revelations might do to us, but at the same time I am so relieved to get this out in the open." "I can see that," I said. "So, where do we stand?" she asked. "I don't know. I love you. I've loved you since we met. I don't want things to be messed up either. I guess the bottom line is, you are no different today than two weeks ago. I still love you. I'm surprised, but heck, it is in the past. Whatever you did in the past created this lovely creature I'm married to. I think we'll be fine." She smiled sadly at me and said, "But the creature you really married isn't what you bargained for. You bought a pig in a poke and it turned out to be an alley cat with low morals." "Your past doesn't matter. It is our present and future that does." I pulled her into my arms and held her close. "That's all in the past. It doesn't matter." She stiffened and pulled away. I saw tears forming in her eyes as she said, "But it isn't just the past that I'm talking about. It is the future. Don't you see?" "Uhhh..." Mouth to brain! Mayday Mayday Mayday! Need immediate intelligent input! "But...I...you..." Debbie motioned me to the couch and said, "Sit. Let me explain. We have to get the rest of this out in the open." She waited for me to sit back in the couch, then began pacing in front of me as she spoke. "I love our sex life. You are the sweetest, most considerate, passionate lover I've ever had. You make love to me and I love every second of everything we do." Not a bad start. She tells me I'm a stud. That, out of all of her many partners, I'm the one that does it for her. I started feeling a bit better. She went on. "Any time we are together, the loving is wonderful. But..." she paused her pacing and turned to face me. "but I think...no...I know I need something else. Something you can't give me." "But you just said..." I began. "I just said," she spoke over me, "that you make love to me like no one else. But it isn't a lover I need. What I still crave, what I have tried to deny since we have been together, is fucking. Hot nasty hard fucking. Not loving. I need to have some guy bend me over and ram my pussy with his cock as he slaps my ass crimson. You couldn't do that if you tried. Even if you were to perform the physical act, our love would still be there. Sex between us is sharing and loving no matter what we do. What I also need, have always needed somewhere inside me, is the sex without the love. Just the raw animal lust. It can't be just that with you and me." How's that for a kick in the balls? I was building up a pretty good head of steam. All of those mixed feelings, the shock, the turmoil of the last week all started to coalesce into one very pissed off person. I went with it. "What in the hell do you mean by that? How's this supposed to work? Will you just take off weekends to go slutting around, or am I supposed to bring you and your lovers breakfast in bed? Oh wait, they aren't lovers are they? No loving here, just nasty sex, right? I guess I should have asked if I was to bring you and your fuckbuddies breakfast in bed." I recognized how mad I was and knew I had to disengage before I said something irretrievable. "Look Debbie, I love you, but I have reached my limit. We gotta stop right here. I'm too pissed off to say anything else. It won't be rational. Hah -- as if anything we've said today was rational. I'm going for a run." I stormed upstairs and stripped to change into running clothes. I flung my jeans across the room, my shirt flew in the other direction. I threw on some running stuff and hit the road without looking back in at Debbie. For me, running has always been where I meditate. I don't really think about anything. I just immerse myself in the moment and lose my connection with the rest of the world. Nothing exists but the next few steps. I sometimes get so lost in it I barely know where I am. This was one of those times. I had been out for thirty minutes or so when it started raining. I was only aware of the rain because it cooled me off. Then, just as I was passing under a large oak next to the road, everything changed. I am told that the lighting hit the tree and then jumped to me. All I know is that one second I was running along and the next I was in the back of an ambulance. A passing motorist saw me go down and it was lucky for me that she knew CPR. I spent the next 24 hours in and out of groggy consciousness. They must have gotten Debbie's number from me at some point. All I know is than when I finally really woke up and was alert, she was there holding my hand. She hadn't left my side the whole time I was all fuzzed out. Once she realized I was really awake and alert, I got the waterworks. She cried and we hugged tightly. Both of us taking comfort in the contact with our soul mate. She eventually got control of the crying and we had a brief moment to talk before the doctor came in. "I was so scared," she said. "I thought I had really lost you. I knew you went out to run so you could calm down and settle your thoughts and I was apprehensive about that, but then the hospital called. I don't want to live without you. Whatever that takes." "I'm not leaving you. It will take more than a lightning strike to drive me off woman. We have things to work out -- adjustments to make. We have some serious issues to deal with, but there is no way we won't be together." That is when the doctor came in. He explained that I needed a day or two more hospitalization to be sure that my EKG was all settled out. He went on to explain that some lightning victims suffer from problems that pop up later -- sleep disorders, moodiness, etc. and gave us contact information for a local doctor that had treated several other strike victims. I went back to work a week later. The other side effects never seemed to pop up for me. There was just the initial zap that kinda rebooted my brain and stopped my heart for a bit. Debbie and I had not raised the issues that led to me going for a run during that week. We just spent the time close and being thankful that we still had each other. There were moments, though, that I would look at her and not see the loving little doll of a wife I had. I would see her as the wanton slut she had described her previous self to be. At first this really bothered me, later though, the mental pictures started. I saw her doing some of the nasty things she had told me about. I'd play it in my mind and would find myself with a hard cock. That was a bit confusing. The first time we had sex once I got home was a case in point. We started out like normal. We went to bed a bit early and started cuddling. It slowly escalated to kissing and touching. From there, we moved to sucking and fucking. It was while I was between Debbie's legs pushing myself into her tight pussy that I had a flashback to what she had told me. I started pumping faster as I thought about her fucking groups of men. Before long, I was really moving fast and our bodies were slapping hard into one another. I was pulled from my internal fantasy by Debbie's voice. She rarely ever spoke when we had sex. Suddenly here, she was moaning loudly and saying, "Fuck me, Fuck me. Do it to me," over and over. Her words and wanton tone carried me up a notch. It didn't take long for me to start cumming into her pussy. She whimpered and kept moving as I froze and came. When I finished, I slipped out of her. She was clearly unsatisfied. Her hand stole between us and she started stroking herself as I watched. I'd never seen her do this before. It was an incredible sight. My doll of a wife frantically frigging herself with one hand and squeezing her taught little tits with the other. I leaned forward and started nibbling on one of her tits. She sighed and pushed into me. I slipped a hand down and let my fingers ride hers as she touched herself. It was an amazing way to share the intimate act of self satisfaction. I felt every move of her fingers as she stroked her clit and rubbed her pussy lips. After a little bit of this, our hands traded places. She started frigging herself with my fingers. I felt the extra wetness of my come all over her pussy. It was hard to believe how slick and wet she was. As I felt her tensing up as she started to cum, she pulled her hand off of mine and was actually licking our juices off of her fingers. Her hand stole back and forth between her pussy and her mouth as she had either one long orgasm or several short ones on top of each other. Finally, she pulled my hand off of her pussy and licked my fingers clean. This whole activity was something new for us in bed. I was re-energized and hard again. She was looking me in the eye as she sucked on my fingers, slowly licking my cum and her juices from them. Then she just moved down and started sucking my cock. It was unlike any blowjob I'd ever had. She sucked me all the way in until her lips were against my pubic bone. When she would lift off of me to breathe, she would spit on my cock and then lick the spit as it slid down. I didn't last long in spite of having just cum. This was a whole new kind of sex to me. The Friday after I returned to work, Debbie called me and told me that we were going out for dinner and said that she had already made dinner reservations. She would meet me at the restaurant. I didn't think much about it. We did this a couple of times a month. She'd drive from her office out by Dulles to where I worked in Mclean while it seemed like most of the world was headed the other way on the local highways. After dinner we'd both drive home after the rolling parking lot of I-66 emptied out a bit. We met in the parking lot of a nice little Italian place. There wasn't a crowd and we were quickly seated. Debbie wanted wine so I ordered us both some. Between the wine and the quiet atmosphere, I was feeling pretty mellow and very into my lovely wife. She was wearing a black skirt and a white blouse with some lace trim that she had dressed up with a scarf I bought for her when I was in Beijing a few years back. She looked classy and sexy. I was proud to be there with her. That is when Debbie locked eyes with me and said, "I think the time has come to talk more about my past and...well the desires I told you about." "Here?" I responded. "I want us to stretch our boundaries. We need to play and loosen up. I want more for us." "And by 'more' do you mean more of what you were doing before we met?" I asked hesitantly. "Some. Maybe not the extreme stuff, but I still want more. I don't want to push you into something you don't want, though. All you have to do is tell me you are uncomfortable with something and I'll stop. I'm hoping that we can both grow and learn here." She looked up at me with heat in her eyes,"Maybe we can find some of your kinks and satisfy them." I thought that through. "Why not tell me about it ahead of time. That way we can avoid the situation rather than having me stop something once I'm uncomfortable." She looked at me and slowly unbuttoned the button between her breasts. Now her shirt was open from her neck to beneath her pretty little tits. She was braless, so if she were to twist or lean forward, the shirt would gap open and her intimate flesh would be exposed. "Silly. If you had to approve things ahead of time your natural conservatism would stop us before we start. This way, you can enjoy things being a bit out of control." With that she raised her arm and signaled the waiter over for more water. While he was pouring, she leaned over and deliberately opened her shirt enough to expose herself to him. Her eyes were on me as she did it. Fortunately, the waiter managed not to spill too much water. I felt a tingle somewhere between my lungs and stomach. When he left she asked, "Did you enjoy that?" I had actually. I found it thrilling in a strange way. I noticed my cock jump in my pants. "Well, it was different," I prevaricated. Debbie smiled. She knew me well enough to understand that I had enjoyed it, but wasn't ready to admit it. "I think we can find ways to have some of the fun I need without straining our relationship too much. Especially if we can find you some thrills along the way." "That might be interesting. I...I'm willing to try. Baby steps darling. Let's not go to the dungeon for an orgy tomorrow. Also, at any point on this exploration, either of us can stop everything. We need to be able to put on the brakes and talk. I don't want things getting to the point of permanent damage. We should be able to stop and talk whenever one of us needs it. We...I may need some breathing room. Time to adjust and recover. And, of paramount importance to me, time for just us to be the normal loving people we were before I...before we..." Debbie smiled and said, "Yes. I need that too. We need to take our baby steps." She paused, then laughed, "Baby steps...'What About Bob?', right?" I laughed too. "Yep." It warmed me to know that the fun girl I married was still there. Debbie and I placed our orders with our waiter. I could see that he was careful to stand and hold his pad in such a way as to be able to enjoy the view that Debbie was providing. I enjoyed a guilty rush watching the interaction. While we waited for our salads, Debbie said, " You remember much from the night you came home early and communed with John Barleycorn?" "Yeah...I got pretty trashed." "You never asked where I had been." That got my full and complete attention. The big zap hadn't wiped my memory of that night completely. I still remembered her shapely legs and that tight knit top she was wearing when she helped me to bed. Suddenly, I put together the implications that I missed between being drunk that night and then all the various excitement the following day. My casual erotic daydreams inspired by the nasty sex my wife had before we met and the desires for it that she had recently confessed to me rose up. Had she been out behind some bar pulling a train of random strangers? Had she been out to some hotel bar to pick up some visiting businessman? The possibilities had an enormous reaction on me. I felt like a herd of butterflies was stampeding through my abdomen and chest. The nerves in my crotch tingled momentarily, then I felt crushing sorrow. There was guilt, anger, excitement, lust, and fear all mixed up together. It was an almost unbearable combination of feelings and emotions. I took a deep breath to get back in control of myself. Then I met Debbie's eyes and said, "Uhm, with all that happened the next day, I guess I had kind of pushed that out." We were sitting beside each other in a smallish horseshoe shaped booth. She reached to hold my hand. "Honey, I need to tell you about that night." Bang! All of those emotions just doubled in intensity. My breath froze...maybe it was my lungs that froze. I just sat there. "I had been thinking about what you did with that little tart at work and worked myself up to deciding on a little revenge. I went..." That was the moment the damn waiter came by with our salads. I almost throttled him. It was all I could do to sit there without moving while he went through the cracked pepper routine that people seem to love. I was tempted to take that pepper grinder and bounce off of his skull. When he finally finished, after what was to me a subjective week of emotional hell, I said to Debbie, "Please go on," in as calm a voice as I could muster. She picked up, "I went out. I went to a club I had heard of at work. It is a fairly well known 'meat market' type of place. I went with the thought of grabbing some guy and fucking his brains out." "I guess...I guess after what I did..." I began. She cut me off, "No. What I set out to do was wrong. Two wrongs definitely don't make a right. I came to that realization over the course of that evening. I know you are worried, but don't be. Nothing happened. Well...nothing much happened." "Huh? What is nothing much?" I asked. "Well, my clothes never came off. I didn't leave the bar with anyone. No one's hands successfully got inside my clothes and I touched no skin other than a couple of hands." Whew! Relief coursed through me. I laughed at myself for getting so very worked up. "I guess it would have been hard for much of anything to have happened, considering those restrictions." "You think so?" she asked archly as she began eating her salad. "Well yeah. In a public place. Clothes on. No hands or anything else up the skirt or in the fly. Not much left honey." I was so innocent. I dug into my salad. "So...it would be OK with you if I went out and kept to that standard?" she asked as she thumbed a bit of dressing from the corner of her mouth. Relief had dumbed me and numbed me. I didn't hear the overtones in her voice when she asked that. "Sure," I said, "Why not?" Debbie had another bite of salad. Then she reached her left hand on to my right leg just above the knee. As she slowly stroked from my knee to mid thigh and back, she leaned over and breathily whispered into my ear, "Did I tell you how Linda Johnson took my cherry with a strapon dildo? Mmmmm. She waited until I was 18 for that. I wanted it before, but she made me wait. I had already been to bed with her and Larry, but actual penetration was off limits. Finally though, she kept me home from school on my 18th birthday. She took me into her bedroom and stripped me naked. Then we kissed. Her lips and mine sliding and touching. Her tongue in my mouth. My tongue exploring her lips and then probing deep into her mouth. It was so hot. Then Linda started nibbling my titties. It was like there were wires from them into my pussy. I was on the edge of cumming when she finally went down on me and made me cum so fast. It only took a couple of swipes of her mouth on my little clit and bang I was off like a string of firecrackers. It was sooo good." Debbie's hand was slowly stroking higher up my leg as she talked. She was squirming a lot in her seat, but I wasn't really paying attention to that. "While I was lying there trying to catch my breath from the incredible orgasms she had given me with her mouth, she slipped on these leather panties with a big black dildo sticking out." Her hand reached my crotch for just a moment then moved back down my thigh. She squirmed in her seat a bit then moved and crossed her legs and squeezed them together. She leaned back towards me and touched my ear momentarily with her tongue. "It wasn't really black. It was realistically brown, with heavy veins and a magnificent crown on it. Linda climbed between my legs and we spent a few minutes kissing going from slow and sweet to hot and nasty. I could feel the dildo, my first cock, pressed between us as we kissed." Her Secret Past Ch. 02 Her hand was back at my crotch. Debbie followed the outline of the head of my cock with a finger as she continued to whisper in my ear. I felt her moving and squirming more as she recrossed her legs, placing the opposite leg on top. I could see her flexing her thighs rhythmically as she moaned and continued whispering to me. "Then she reached down and just rubbed the head of that cock, her cock, up and down my dripping little virgin slit. It felt sooo good honey. I couldn't believe how anything could feel so good. Then I felt her change the angle on it. I knew what was coming. She was going to put it in me. I felt the head begin to penetrate me. I was so hot for it. I was scared, too, but I really wanted that big black cock in my tight little pussy." Debbie was full on stroking my cock and teasing my ear with her lips as she whispered to me. I was rock hard and unable to think rationally. I was sure precum had dampened my underwear. I was absolutely transfixed by the picture Debbie was creating in my head. Debbie was squirming a lot in her seat. I panted in expectation. Then the waiter showed up. This guy's tip was rapidly dwindling. That little peckerwad had a sense of timing that was killing me. Debbie sat up just a little, but kept her hand on my leg. I sat there shakily as he traded our salad plates for our meals. Chicken piccata for me and lamb chops for her. As he placed her dish in front of her, Debbie reached forward and grasped his forearm. "I'm afraid I dropped my napkin," she said, "Would you be so kind as to get it for me sweetie?" As she asked this she grasped my cock firmly in her hand. She also stroked her other hand down his arm to and across the back of his had. He quickly bent down and spent a moment under the table. While he was there she quickly kissed me, slipping her tongue in and out of my mouth quickly. The waiter stood up with the white napkin in his hand. He reached to the next table and handed Debbie a clean one. As he walked away, she stroked my cock firmly and said, "He just took my panties from around my ankle where I had them." I came in my pants. As I slowly recovered from the orgasm, Debbie looked at me with an evil smile, saying "Still think those parameters are benign?" "Huh?" I responded. This woman had a way of making me dumber than the average NASCAR fan. "Tell you what, honey. You go to the men's room and clean up a little. While you are there, think about our little conversation...no not the one I was whispering in your ear. The one from before about that night you came back." I stumbled off to the bathroom. As I was trashing my boxers, my IQ came back on line. Public place. No contact under the clothes. No skin touched. Clothes on. Wow. We had just had a smoking hot sexual encounter within the restrictions that I had thought were pretty safe. My wife was one sexy hot lady. Then I froze standing there at the sink. The face in the mirror looked shocked. Was she telling me that she did something like this that night? The tension I had felt earlier returned. If she had done it, I probably deserved it for my dalliance with Sandy Mathers. I mentally girded myself and returned to the table. As I slid around the booth I noticed a busboy, two waiters, and a cook standing at the kitchen door and looking at us. I blushed, knowing they must have been admiring my wife's panties in the kitchen before coming out to see the owner of said lingerie. I also felt a 'coming back to life' twitch in my cock. "So," I said. "I think I get the message now." Debbie put down her fork and said, "Just think, if that could happen in a quiet restaurant like this, what might be possible in a crowded noisy bar?" I just nodded. She went on, "Between dirty dancing, grinding and groping, and the naughty things we could say with each other, well, let's just say that innocence could be checked at the door." There was a pause. We ate in silence while I considered what she said. I imagined her dancing close with some stranger - his hard cock pressed between them grinding and rubbing between them. I could see her hunching her pussy against his leg. I remembered the tight sweater with the little bumps where her braless nipples pushed up for attention. Certainly any guy worth his salt would have been groping and touching those sweet tits. A new, but becoming quickly familiar, rush of conflicting emotions washed over me. Dread, fear, anger, and jealousy seemed to somehow combine into a mixed up mess. To my surprise, though, curiosity, lust, and horny were all there and turned up high. No single feeling was dominant. It was like very fast channel surfing through an enormous emotional range. Debbie blotted her mouth with her napkin and then turned to lock eyes with me. She held me in thrall for what seemed like a long time, then let me down. "Nothing happened. I planned on going out and getting nasty, but realized that I cared too much about us to do that. I didn't do anything I wouldn't have done in a professional setting - just a few drinks and a little conversation. I turned down some offers to dance and a couple of offers for more than dancing." Whew. I was relieved. But, there was a niggling little part of me that I didn't really know what to do with that was a little disappointed somehow. I finished eating without dropping too much food in my lap. As we left, she stopped and gave our waiter a full body hug, then kissed him on the nose, saying "Thanks, Honey." In the parking lot Debbie said, "I am going to fuck your brains out when we get home, stud." "I think you already rang the bell for me, honey," I replied. "Then I'll just have to get creative, won't I?" was her sultry reply. Creative, she was. She convinced me to drop my car at my work garage and go home with her. "I'll bring what is left of you in, tomorrow," she said. I drove. As we pulled on to the interstate for the fifteen mile drive, Debbie put her back to the passenger door and showed me that she indeed had no panties on. She started fingering her sweet little pussy. Soon the aroma of hot, sexy woman filled the car. I kept glancing over at her, then back at traffic. As we got about three miles out from our exit, Debbie reached under the seat and pulled out a large vibrating dildo and started using it around the outside of her cunt. It was just like the one she described Linda Johnson using to deflower her. "Recognize it honey?" she asked. "It is the very one Linda used to bust my little cherry. She gave it to me that day." By now, I was sweating and praying that we didn't get pulled for erratic driving. I heard her moans changed and glanced over again, she had about half of it in her pussy and the other half was wet from having been deep inside her. She was humping into the dildo with her hips and sliding it in and out with her hands. Her moans rose in pitch as her speed increased. She began cumming right there in the passenger seat as we sped down I-66. My cock was rock hard in my slacks. After she slowed and started catching her breath, she started laughing. "What's so funny?" I asked. "You missed the exit," she responded. "We're on the far side of Manassas."