0 comments/ 104673 views/ 8 favorites My Husband's Gift By: Diane Marie I know I said I wouldn’t have much time to writes stories to post here, and the truth is I don’t. Time and desire don’t always fit do they. I really hate it that my last two stories were so poorly received by some of you, based on the ratings they’ve received, it’s most of you. The piece I called Ramblings was at best poorly written, and it seems, to me, totally misunderstood. Add to that the reoccurring reaction of some of you men that I’m a man hater, which I am not. I’ve decided I needed to do another. Before I even start writing this, I want to make a few comments, comments based on my experiences and feelings. First off, I think my sexuality, as is most women’s, is much more dependent on my emotional side then a man’s is. I can’t just lay down and fuck, I have to feel something emotionally, be it a long term relationship or a one night stand. That said, really great sex does make a difference, if I’m not feeling right emotionally with the person I’m in a relationship with but we have great sex, I may be able to get past the emotional problems and still have sex with that person, that isn’t going to happen if the sex is so, so. My passions, my desires for that sexual high are such that I want those feelings, if I know I’m going to feel that high, in others words lots of massive orgasms, I’ll have sex, hurt, mad, or feeling neglected. In my opinion, that sexual high does kindle other strong emotions, at times, just making love helps put a relationship back on course. Emotions are a complicated matter, having really great sex invokes emotions that may other wise not have a right to exist. Take a one night stand for instance, I for one have to be very attracted to the man. I have to feel emotionally comfortable with him. He has to kindle some part of that emotion we all call love, it doesn’t have to be a big love, I just have to feel lovingly to him. If those three requirements are met, then I can feel emotional and physical lust and passion. If during this one night stand we have really great sex, I’ll feel emotionally bonded to this man, I’ll feel a closeness that I have no right feeling. That can fade fast if I find I don’t like his personality, but the reverse happens if I find I do, the emotional side we call love takes over, I can fall rather quickly. Full blown love, no, but if we’re compatible and we continue to have great sex then my emotions for him well become very strong. My guess is that most women would react the same way. Take note men, great sex happens, few men are truly great lovers, your mate likes someone, you encourage her to make love to him, he’s one of the few, you may well lose her. A risk you take if you want this life style. For those of you who want the cuckold life style, I’ll give you a hint. Find a man whom your wife really likes, one she has some sexual attraction to. Oh yes guys, even when we’re totally committed to someone, we do have our attractions just like you do. Cultivate a friendship with that man, invite him over to your house, invite him along for fun things you and your wife enjoy. When the three of you are alone, keep quiet, let the two of my talk, at times disappear for a while so they can flirt. When you see the attraction getting really strong, drop a hint or two that you wouldn’t mind her cheating, be a little shuttle. I can almost guarantee you, if you’ve done it right, she’ll cuckold you at some point. Now I can guarantee she’ll end up being a love wife of a cuckold husband, she may well end up being a loving wife but you may be the cuckold ex-husband. The truth is most one night stands don’t get that far, the sex isn’t that great. It’s exciting, I may have orgasms that I wouldn’t have with a man I know better, one whom made love the same way. I want to also say that in most cases it takes time to learn to make love to another person, more so for you men then us women. That is not my female superiority speaking either, it’s just a fact of life, we are more complicated then you men are, our needs and desires more varied, it’s easier to take a man to his sexual high then it is a women. That said there are men who can take almost all women to ecstasy the first time they make love to you. They’re very special men, experienced yes, but it’s more then that, they seem to be more attuned to our needs, they seem to sense more readily what is heightening our passion and what is not. They are also totally unselfish lovers, seeing first to our needs before they even consider their own. I’m not ashamed to admit it, thought not proud of it either, I’ve had more then my fair share of male lovers. I’ve been with a total of three men that fit my above description, a rarity indeed. Casanova fits doesn’t he, he had many women, those women wanted him, and after they had him, they wanted him again and again and again. It only took one time with him and they were hooked. I read that the average women experiences sex with only three men during her whole life so her odds of ever encountering a man like this are very slime indeed. Maybe for women who experiences her men during a wild night of cheating, the odds are greater, something about these men, maybe it’s sexual vibes, maybe it’s a certain confidence, is very alluring. Maybe it’s just our intuition, certain men just seem to be so attractive, almost irresistible, even if we don’t end up having sex with them, we somehow know that doing so would be special. I’ve watched these men, it isn’t just me who’s attracted to them, they may walk into an establishment single but they never leave that way. How many of you men can truly say that, not many, I’m sure. All of that said, it really matters little how powerful your attraction to a man like that is, if you love the man your having a relationship with, assuming that relationship is working at the time, 99% of women would not cheat. Lets take a journey, a loving husband, a desirable man, and me. Yes I’m going to play the lead, the story is going to be fantasy, but the emotions and the reactions well be as I see myself feeling and reacting. I really don’t have time for much character development, so this is the character I’m playing. I’m in love with my husband, I think/hope he’s in love with me. Typical relationship, at times good, at times not so good. I can’t foresee a time in my life without my beloved. I hate it when my husband stares at other women, although I don’t mind if he just looks. Our sex life is, like most couples married for a number of years, good but not great. The frequency varies greatly, going from very frequent sex when our relationship is working to nearly nonexistence when it isn’t. I want to be very typical, so we are going to make me statistically average, I’m somewhat conservative in bed, I’ll give my husband a blow job, never as long as he’d like, I don’t deep throat, I’ve never been asked to learn, he can’t cum in my mouth, he’s asked I said no a number of times, he’s never really pressed the issue, if he did I’d try at least once. I don’t do anal sex, he’s asked, I’ve said no, he doesn’t push the issue. I’ll take the lead at times and get on top, doggie style occasionally but our primary sexual position is missionary. Half of the time I’ll experience an orgasm, almost always during foreplay. A few times I’ve experienced a small orgasm during intercourse but that of course was only after a lot of foreplay. I long for more foreplay, my husbands rushes that. I want longer and better oral sex then my husband ever gives me. I’ve never had multiple orgasms, I use the excuse that I’m to sensitive after one orgasm, but the truth is I want to have that experience. I know of no major perversions my husband has. I have none that I really think of as perverse. I do have this strange desire to show off my body, a desire I hide, most of the time even from myself, but I have fantasized about it. On occasion I’ve fulfilled my husband’s request to go out with him, minus my undergarments, the idea of being so naked under a dress is a turn on. I don’t like to admit it but at times when my husband hasn’t been looking I’ve done a little flashing. I wonder about adding toys to our loving making but would never ask my husband to buy any, I wouldn’t object if he did. I didn’t use to masturbate often but I do now, usually along with a fantasy. I do have thoughts about making love to other men, much stronger thoughts then I should. On three occasions I came close to doing so. I was a virgin when we married, I regret that, I wish I would have had sex with other men before we were married. I have also wondered about making love to a man with a big penis, just a curiosity, we all wonder. Like all of us I’ve heard both opinions, it matters and it doesn’t matter. I know my body, so I can’t help but believe that is has to matter some. All of the above are from one study or another, all fall within a range of normalcy. Two of these are on the fringes of normalcy, first being a virgin, that depends some on the generation a person was born in, but it’s not uncommon in any generations. The second being a strong desire to make love to other men, a majority has expressed they have that desire but not a strong desire. Three occasions coming close is a bit of an overstatement for average, better stated as a strong temptation to do so. But my character has come close to doing so, very close. The only other note worthy comment I’ll make is that, I was very surprised that the desire to be an exhibitionist, was considered within the range of normalcy, low range but normal, all this time I thought I wasn’t normal. I do want to be typical, so we have children, but children complicate things don’t they, I’m not about to bring home a new a man if the children are home, I’m surely not going to go out with my husband then have him return that night and I return the next afternoon. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It’s funny how events in your life play themselves out sometimes, take last Friday night for example. It was the first night, in ages, that John and I didn’t have to worry about getting home early because of our baby sitter. As a matter of fact it was going to be a mouth of nights not worrying, both of our children left for camp that morning. That’s a mixed bag at best, we’d have some freedom that we hadn’t experienced in years but I also knew I’d be lonely and of course I’d worry some. The truth is this couldn’t have come at a better time, John and I needed to work on our relationship. We’ve both been so busy, what with work, and the children we just didn’t seem to have much time together. Add to that John’s withdrawal lately and we really did need some time to mend our life together. That sounds worse then it is, we’ve gone thought this before. I really am one of the lucky ones, it seems most of my friends have bigger problems with their husbands then I do. Maybe this time it just seemed worse, or maybe I just needed his attention more then I normally do. It seems to me that when things go wrong, men withdraw into themselves, and I knew something at work wasn’t right, exactly what, I wasn’t sure. That is the problem I didn’t know because John didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to talk much about anything. It’s lonely living with a man who seems to be so preoccupied, so cold. Temporary state I hoped, but I still needed more. Not getting any attention, nor any affection, is just not how I want to live my life, not a mouth, not a day, not an hour. My idea of an ideal life is one in which your husband treats you as if you were only dating, undivided attention, unending affection. I can dream can’t I. Life isn’t like that. Life with me isn’t prefect either. John has to live with an imperfect woman, not always easy for him either. At times I can be a real bitch, it’s almost like I can’t help myself, I know I’m doing it, I don’t want to but I just can’t help it, call it PMS, call it just being a women, but I’m sure it’s not fun for John or the children. It hadn’t been fun for John lately, I was nagging at him all the time, maybe one to many of his withdrawals, I’m really not sure. I’d try to talk to him, he wouldn’t talk, I’d get mad, I’d yelled, perhaps I was trying in provoke a fight at least when we fight we talk, well yell anyway, but that is something. I should have stopped, I should have just let him come out of it on his own but I couldn’t, I could feel his resentments growing but I just couldn’t stop. That is a double edged sword, the more bitter he became the more I needed his reassurance that he loved me. By the time the kids left for camp I was disparate, I needed some kind of expression of his love. Strange thoughts had started to creep into my mind, was he having an affair, had he fallen out of love with me. There really weren’t any signs, other then his withdrawal, that John was cheating but for some reason I just felt he was. The logical part of my brain knew that it just wasn’t possible, John wouldn’t cheat on me, but then there the other part of my brain that said he would. The same part of my brain that allowed me to come close to cheating on John, three different times since we’ve been married. The same part of my brain that said John’s working late, his trips out of town on business, gave him opportunity, but he’d always worked long hours, he’d always taken trips. His golf foursomes, gave him time on the weekends to cheat. If John golfed not only Saturday but then again Sunday I was sure he was with his lover. Add to that a few nights coming home really late and drunk, his excuse was he was with his golf partners. That was the only thing he hadn’t really done before, not really a lot to hang my suspensions on. John’s anger with me should have been proof that John wasn’t cheating, my best friend’s husband had. During his affair he was very lovely to her, paid extra special attention to her. I can’t stress enough how this was effecting me. I wasn’t angry, which would be a logical reaction, I just felt desperate. I felt if John was having an affair I was going to lose him, a one time sexual encounter is one thing and affair is about the heart, I feared an affair. Sex wasn’t really the issue, I could live with that, I can’t say I really felt sexual fidelity was all that important in a good marriage. When I was totally honest to myself, I had feelings of wanting to open up our marriage sexually, at least I wanted to try, do some swinging, at least find out. I never mentioned this to John, he’s always been so conservative, I suppose he believed I was also. I didn’t give him any indication I wasn’t. The real problem in our marriage wasn’t the ups and downs, it truly was a lack of communications, we didn’t really talk to one another about our true feelings. Lately we didn’t talk about anything, not even the children. Take our sex life, it was so conventional, some kissing, a little foreplay, then we’d have intercourse. Pretty damn boring. I’m not blaming that on John, I didn’t do anything to change that, I was conservative too. I wanted more, I wanted our sex life to be exciting, risky at times. I wanted to dress like a slut at times, go out and strut my stuff as they say, have semi-pubic sex, just the idea we may be watched or caught was exciting. Even the idea of public sex turned me on, when John and I had been dating we went to a party where some of the couples made love in front of everyone. I was so turned on by watching them, that I made love to John for the first time that night. The first time ever with anyone. I would have been willing to do more for John, a lot more, but he needed to lead me. I didn’t communicate that to John, I was afraid to, I was afraid of losing his respect. Anyway last Friday night was, in my mind, a good night to rekindle our passions, restart our closeness. Not to mention I was horny as hell, we hadn’t had sex in like a mouth, mostly my fault but oh well, not allowing sex didn’t mean I didn’t want it. It was getting so bad that I’d wait for John to fall asleep and then I’d masturbate, of course I’d fantasize at those time. Being I suspected John was having an affair, my fantasy mostly involved getting even, having an affair of my own, one that would make John jealous. Masturbating helps but it’s not the same as having his lips on mine, his naked body against mine, the orgasms I give myself are stronger then John gives me but not nearly as satisfying, something about being with someone makes that special. Yes I was horny, yes John was as angry with me, as I was desperate for him to express his love. I needed to do something, something adventuresome, something sensual, something that I felt would build a fire in John. I picked that something, one of John many times requested wishes, a wish I rarely fulfilled. It’s a simple request, he likes me to wear a dress with nothing under it. Truth is I like doing so, it’s just that I get strange desires when I’m out like that, desires for other men. That’s what got me into trouble the time I came closest to cheating. We’d gone to a party, I became attracted to someone, we danced, he explored a little, finding no undergarments he became very verbal about what he wanted to do to me. I suppose men just assume your a slut and looking for sex if you don’t wear undergarments. I really think the things he said to me should have turned me off, they had the opposite effect. When I excused myself to go to the rest room, not really to relieve myself, instead to regain control, he followed me right into the bathroom. One thing lead to another. He unzipped my dress, I allowed it to drop to my feet, there I was naked, save for a pair of thigh highs and heals. He stepped back and devoured me with his eyes, if I wasn’t already lost, I was now, I have this secret desire for men to look at my naked body. He picked me up set me on the vanity, unzipped his pants letting them fall to the floor, pulled down his underpants and within seconds was inside of me. That is when someone started banging on the door, we both jumped, and that was the end of that. We got dressed, I left first, then shortly after he did. I’m sure some of you would say I did cheat, I had another man’s penis inside my vagina. I just don’t see it that way, I didn’t complete the act, I didn’t cheat. I can’t say I have any really sexy cloths, I just don’t and I’d made my decision to late to shop for anything real sexy. I tried on a number of my dresses, settling on a floral print shirtdress, a little below the knee in length, it wasn’t really what I wanted but by leaving the buttons open to just above mid thigh, along with the top three buttons, it did look somewhat hot, men would look. To that I added a pair of slingbacks with 3 ½ inch heals. I considered adding a garter belt and hose, I know you men think that is sexy, but my legs were well tanned, I have nice legs by the way, so I decided to go without. The truth is I felt so sexy not wearing anything but that dress, I was wet just thinking about going out that way. I did have some visions of John maybe unbuttoning a button or two more. That wasn’t going to happen, John is fairly conservative. John took me to one of the nicest restaurant in our part of town. I was so disappointed when he sat across from me, even though I encouraged him to sit next to me. I was hoping for a little play in the restaurant, I was hoping to give him a real shock, a good one I might add. I was on fire, I truly was, John was not, there was this distance between us. I tried to turn John on, I stayed off the topic of our problems, kept the nature of our conversations light but to the sensual side. By the time we left the restaurant I was exasperated, I even thought about just taking John’s hand and running it up my thigh after we got into the car, but I wanted this to happen in public. It was my fantasy, I envisioned his hand running up my leg, his fingers exploring my vulva while in public but that action hidden by a table, semi public sex. In the right environment, I could see it happening without a table hiding what was happening. My Husband's Gift When John started to drive home, I objected strenuously, this was suppose to be a night out, a restaurant doesn’t qualify. I became very cross, told him he’d become an old man before his time. I told him other couples go out, do wild and crazy things, we go out eat dinned and go home. Our life together was so fucking boring. I told him if he didn’t want to take me out fine, he could go home and play with his computer but I was going out. When John turned the car around he yelled, "So you want wild, I’ll show you wild." We drove for about twenty minutes, then finally arrived at a dance club, one I didn’t even know existed. It wasn’t long after we arrived that I had to admit John picked the right club for a wild night. The band wasn’t much good, their playing to loud, but their was something about the beat that was stimulating. The crowd seemed wild, a strange mix, the women appeared to be my age or up, the older women I’d guess in their early fifties. Almost all the women seemed quite fix and all were attractive. The men all very fit indeed, somewhat younger in general age then the women, all of the older women seemed to be with much younger men. Over all a handsome bunch of men. We hadn’t been sitting more then five minutes when I watched a couple on the dance floor getting sexual with each other. She had turned her back to him, after she had, he pulled her close, ran both of his hands ran up under her T-shirt, that caused the shirt to raise exposing both of her breasts. She knew it, she made no attempt to pull it down, I wouldn’t have either. I longed for John to take me out on that dance floor, unbutton my dress and do as that man had done to his partner. I’d never been to a club like this, the attitude of the patrons was blatantly sexual. It even crossed my mind that a place like this must have problems with the police. Maybe it shouldn’t have effected me but I liked it, I liked how blatantly sexual it was. It was very stimulating indeed. Being in that club didn’t change a thing between John and I, he was just as cold to me at the club as he’d been at dinner. We danced a few times but he didn’t even hold me close, it was more like not holding me then holding me. I longed for his touch, I wanted his hands caressing me, exploring my body. John is normally a wonderful dancer but he just seemed to be going through the motions. Neither of us was talking, I was trying but the conversation was one sided. Doubts started to creep into my head again, was John having an affair, had he fallen out of love with me. I’m not much of a drinker but I started to be, it wasn’t long before I’d surpassed my normal limit. In truth my mind was full of mixed emotions. On one hand I had this nagging doubt, made worse I’m sure by the alcohol. I was angry, I was trying so hard to move us closer, John seemed to be trying equally as hard to move us apart. Underlying all of this was this sexual current, brought on I’m sure by lack of sex, feeling so naked, so sexy, the looks I’d gotten from a number of men, and the activities of the patrons. Add to that, there was this scrumptious guy who kept eyeing me over, real eye candy. His eyes seemed to devour me, the idea that such a gorgeous man couldn’t keep his eyes off me, made me even hotter. We made eye contact several time, every time we did I felt my body flush with sexual excitement. I wanted to have fun, I didn’t want to just sit there looking at John sour puss of a face. Call it revenge, getting even, whatever, I turned very icy to John. On the inside I was on fire, but I’m absolutely sure if someone close was listening to me they’d have felt I was an ice queen. I started digging at John, I’d point to a couple having fun, then say why can’t you be like that guy. How about that one. I was drunk as hell, and given the situation I was a very mean drunk. I really don’t remember all I did or said but I surely belittled John much more then he deserved. A time or two disparaging his sexual ability also. Mean is an understatement. As you all know, drinks have to be eliminated at some point, I was way past my point when I told John I had to go to the rest room. Invariably there’s always a line when you need to go the worst, by the time I got into the lady’s room I was almost to the point of wetting myself. By the time I got out, the last few drinks I’d had, had taken effect. I wasn’t all to steady as I walked out of the hallway and started across the dance floor to our table. As I approached our table I realized it was vacant, no John. A number of speculations went though my head, the one that lingered was that he’d left me and gone home without me. Not really reasonable, John would never do that, but in my confused and somewhat drunken state, he had done just that. As a matter of fact thought that he’d left me to be with his lover was the one that stuck. As I walked across the dance floor, anger, mixed with fear, over took me, "I’ll teach you to leave me, I’ll just find my own ride home, if that happens to be someone else’s home so be it," was the thought running through my head. It was really just a thought, what was really in my mind was a desperate thought about getting home. I had no money, I didn’t even have a credit card, the sum total of the contends of my purse included my drivers license, some make up, cologne and two tampons. Truth is those two thoughts fit, no way home, no money to pay for a cab, I’m at a club full of men, a lot of them I’m sure willing to give me a ride. Of course they’d want something in return, shall we say, a ride in return for a ride. Maybe there was more at play here then just that, I’m a smart cookie, I could get someone to give me a ride and pay nothing. Maybe it was a combination of things, John’s attitude, his leaving me, the seven year itch as they say. Whatever it was, anger, revenge, or lust, the thought in my head was picking someone up, getting a ride home, but only after having sex with them. Thoughts aren’t actions, I’ll never know if I would have acted. Just before I got to our table a man asked me to dance. The man who’d been paying so much attention to me earlier. It really wasn’t a request for a dance, it was just a polite way of saying, "I’ve picked you to dance with, you well." That may sound strange, but this man did not lack confidence, it was so evident. I would in most cases have been offended by his attitude, but looking up into his face, I knew that it was just that way with him. He needn’t ask, rarely if ever had he been turned down for anything, at least things between a man and a woman. If my world had been perfect, if John and my relationship was perfect, I would have still found it hard not to have taken his hand as he lead me to the center of the room. After Mark lead me to the floor, his hands slipped around my waist pulling me tight against him, no pretense whatsoever of this dance being casual. As I put my arms around his neck holding my purse with each, I laid my head against his chest, he smelled so good, I let completely go, I just responded. As he spoke to me I was consumed by his voice, a voice like no other I’d ever heard, so sensual, almost sexual in nature. If a man’s voice could bring a woman to orgasm it was that voice. I leaned back looking up into his eyes, as he spoke my attentions was drawn to his lips, lips that seemed so kissable. Lips I wanted on mine, lips I wanted to taste, lips I wanted to feel over my whole body. Never in my life had I been aroused so fast, and aroused only by hands touching my lower back, eyes devouring my inner being, words I wasn’t even hearing but words spoken by a voice I couldn’t get enough of, nor resist. If I spent the rest of my life analyzing that moment, analyzing my own reactions I couldn’t find the answer. I shouldn’t have been aroused. The worst thing my mind could envision had just happened, my husband had left me and gone to another woman’s arms. Moments before I’d had visions of living the rest of my life alone and lonely, struggling, raising my children without the only man I felt I could ever love. Those thoughts, the thoughts of my husband had been replaced by other thoughts, thoughts of the things I envisioned doing to this stranger, carnal, lustful things. As his hands started to explore my back, I didn’t try to stop him, I ground my body into his. As he paused finding no bra I lusted, I wanted him to know I wasn’t wearing one. As his hand explored downward, again finding nothing, I became so wet, I wanted him to know I was nearly naked, I wanted him to long for my naked body against his. As I felt his arousal growing against my belly, I was esthetic, I was effecting him just as he was effecting me. I wanted his manhood, I stroked it with my body, if he hadn’t been holding me so close I may have done so with my hand. As I felt his hand move up my side, then resting on the side of my breast, I again leaned back looking him in the eyes, inviting him to do more. I moaned deep in my throat as his hand covered my breast. I put my hand on the back of his head, pulling him to me as I stood on my toes to reach his mouth. The kiss gentle, tender, passionate. I was lost in my lust, lost to a stranger, more lost in lust then I’d ever been, he could have taken me anywhere done anything to me and I don’t think I would have stopped him. It’s then when I saw John leaning against a column in the back of the room, half hidden as if he was spying on me. I was seeing him as if though a fog, my mind trying to make sense of it all, I shouldn’t be doing this, my husband is watching, the price to high, why am I not stopping. My body, on the other hand rebelling against the thought of stopping, it all felt so beautiful, if anything the knowing John was watching heightened the carnal, lustfulness of it all. In matters of pure love the mind and heart win out over the carnal, I’m not going to say it wasn’t a battle, it was, I was so sure it wouldn’t matter, John was lost to me, but my heart won out and I pushed myself away from Mark. As I walked to John my heart was beating as if it was about to explode, the only emotion I was feeling was fear. I found John not in the least bit angry, not in the lest bit jealous, I was puzzled. The look on his face was one of lust, his mouth was slightly open with his, something just turned me on look, a look I know so well. Like I said I was lustful, I was horny and it looked like John was going to be the beneficiary of those feelings. I pushed my body into his, put my hand behind his head, and pulled his lips to mine. I may have been hesitant to place my hand on Mark’s aroused manhood, I wasn’t my husband’s, finding him as Mark had been, I did so with a questions, "Why?" I could go into a lot of detail about what happened. Maybe even give you a word by word account. To me it’s intriguing, and very unsettling. It isn’t everyday you hear from your beloved husbands lips that he was turned on by watching you in the arms of another man. Perhaps I should have been enraged when John said he wanted me to go further, he didn’t have to tell me how much further, it shown bright in his eyes. I really don’t want to make light of what transpired between us. An event so life changing, should never be made light of. The very suddenness of John desire, a desire he swore he didn’t know he had. My shock at his revelation, the internal lust that generated. The lust I saw in John’s eyes as we talked it out. My anger, short lived as it was, bitterness and pain remained. Maybe at any other time, an anger that could have taken years to get over. Somehow, finding out my husband desired to be cuckolded, didn’t seem so bad at this one moment in time, a moment in time I was so ready to cuckold him. Life is a two way street, how could I remain anger, I’m sure that if I hadn’t seen John hiding, if short order I would have left with Mark, oblivious to the consequences of that actions. To say I didn’t find John’s desire strange, somewhat perverse, would be a lie, finding out he actually wanted to watch, made it all the more bizarre. I want you to understand this is bizarre behavior, I may have wanted to open my marriage, have sex with others, but that is not the same as getting off watching your beloved having sex with others. There was a part of me offended by the whole idea but there was a stronger part of me that found the idea to be so wicked, carnal, delicious. I spotted Mark out of the corner of my eye, I’d never wanted a man this badly, I could have him, I didn’t have to cheat to do so, the very thought of that was delectable. It’s hard for me to really understand what was happening to John, was it a total transformation or was it just a final admittance of a hidden desire. I didn’t know until later. For me it was more a matter of self awareness, I didn’t need to transform myself, just allow those parts of me so well hidden, so submersed to emerge. I already was changing, I was wearing, or not wearing as the case may be, the evidence of that. My reaction to Mark, my willingness to believe that John had left me, knowing inside he’d never do so. Mark in my mind was the ideal person, but the truth is, it could have been any number of men that night. In that twenty or so minutes I did not become a new women, but I did admit to myself who I really was. I admitted to myself that my desire for other men was much stronger then I’d allowed myself the luxury of understanding. I admitted to myself I wanted to be more sensual then I had been, even more blatantly sexual. I wanted men to desire me, lust after me, in a way I wanted to be on display to other men. I admitted to myself, in a very carnal way, the idea of my husband watching me take on a lover turned me on. That I suppose was the final piece of the puzzle for me, as much as I loved John, I wanted him to watch me being made love to. Despite all of that, despite knowing I could be with someone other then John and not feel any guilt, it still is painful knowing your husband wants you to have those feelings. You expect your husband to possess you, be jealous of other men’s intention. It’s what I wanted, even in an open life style I would have wanted some of that, yes I’d want that controlled, but I still would have wanted John to feel possessive of me. I was hurt knowing he didn’t feel that, there is bitterness in that feeling. By the time our conversation was about over I knew I could fulfill John’s desire, in so doing I knew I’d start one of my own, one that I knew would be a part of my life for at least the foreseeable future. When John gave me this look, a need for an answer look, an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. All I said was "I’ll try." Something inside told me to go slow, make him believe this was only for him. In John’s mind that was how it was between us, I did for him. I didn’t ever mind that, I cultivated that belief, it made him happy, I was in love with John, I could live with that little lie. Perhaps it was at that very moment, I decided that John had to learn I wasn’t doing this for him, I was doing this for me. Maybe it’s that moment too when I realize John needed to somehow feel my pain, my bitterness. How to accomplish that was unknown at the time. Somehow I knew that Mark would not want us watched, I don’t know how I knew but I knew. I told John I needed time, I needed to spend some time getting to know Mark, maybe he wasn’t even interested in making love to me, I knew that was an untruth. I told John he needed to disappear, he could stay at the club, he could watch as I spent time with Mark but I didn’t want to see him. When I made my decision, he’d know, I assured him he’d know. I told him to give me the keys to the car, he’d have to take a cab home, I wanted control of where Mark and I went, if I elected to make love to Mark, it was going to be in our bed, in our home, where I’d feel safe, I wasn’t going anywhere strange with a stranger. If he wanted to watch, it was up to him, but he’d have to hide, for all I cared he could have hidden under the bed, but I suggested our walk-in closet, a great view of our bed from there. I looked into John’s eyes, then stressed, "If I do this for you, you have to promise me you’ll be home before I get there, I don’t know Mark, I would not feel safe if I didn’t feel your presents." That really was a concern of mine, maybe if I was single and used to dating it wouldn’t have been. It was also my way of assuring John I was doing this for both of us, he was important to me. It wasn’t a lie that John was important to me, it wasn’t a lie I wanted his presents, but it was a lie I was doing this for both of us, this was about me, and somewhat about Mark. Granted I liked the idea of him watching me being taken by another man, but that to was about me, it increased my lust, my desire, his pleasure from his voyeurism was of no concern to me. As you see pleasure was not my goal in his watching, I just hadn’t come to gripes with that yet. I gave John one last kiss then walked over to where Mark was sitting with a group of men, I asked him to dance, truthfully I’d never been that bold in my life. I honestly can say I never wanted anyone so badly in my life, at least not physically. I hate to say this but that includes John, there was something about Mark, some quality missing in other men, I just knew that a night with Mark would be one of the best nights of love making I’d ever experience. The first thing Mark did was ask me who John was, all I said was "He is at the moment not relevant." I didn’t intend to say that, but it was true, at that moment in time John was no longer a relevant factor, my attention focused solely on Mark. Mark and I danced two more dances, with each he explored my body at will. I did some exploring of my own, finding out for sure, what I’d suspected earlier, I was going to find out what it was like to make love to a man with a big penis. That was nice to know but not a factor in making love to Mark, just a bonus. Mark must have sensed my desire to be displayed, he slide his hand between the opening in my dress, pushed it back over my hip then rested his hand on by left cheek, we stayed like that until the dance was over. After those two dances, I saw a booth open up, I took Marks hand and lead him to it. I didn’t have to ask him to sit next to me, he did. The next hour or so seemed to fly by, we talked about everything. In that hour I think Mark knew more about my sexuality then John did after 12 years of marriage. I also found out about the club, about it being a private club, members had to be invited to join, and only women could invite a man. Someone had to have invited John, that someone was a woman. I wasn’t sure that meant anything, maybe he had cheated, at that moment is seemed unimportant. I also found out pretty much anything went at this club, you wanted to do it you just did it. My attraction for Mark grew, now not just merely physical, I truly started to like Mark. He had an easy going personality, he was able to make me smile, laugh at times. Admittedly there was this strong sexual attraction, his one hand on my hand, his other on the booth just touching my thigh, but it had not progressed, in a way that had disappointed me. It’s then that I eyed John standing at the far corner next to the bar, Mark’s eyes followed mine. "I see our friend has reappeared, may I again ask who he is?" the tone in his voice told me the question would not be so easily avoided this time. My face flushed in embarrassment, if you don’t think it’s embarrassing to tell a man you intend to bed that your husband is watching, you truly don’t know much. I saw no point in hiding who John was, "He’s my husband." At quizzical look crossed Mark’s face, "Are you two swingers? You two having problems? Are you separated? Are you trying to make him jealous? Is he stalking you?" My Husband's Gift My answer came quickly, "No, Yes, in a way, no, no, no. Mark it isn’t a shock to you that I’m married, I didn’t hide my rings, you’ve seen them and touched them. I know you saw me sitting with John, I saw you watching me, as I’m sure you saw me watching you. After our first dance, I left you to talk to him, your eyes never left me. When I came back to you, you didn’t seem to care who he was. You surely have to know I intend to make love to you, as I know your intend was never to cultivate a friendship. You knew I was married, you assumed I was going to cheat on my husband, you most likely think I’m a slut, but none of that was about to stop you. Tell me what possible difference could it make that I’m married to that man?" Mark’s face broadened into a smile, "How about the obvious one, the one about being shoot by a jealous husband." I couldn’t help but laugh, it was I’m sure a serious concern but the way he said it, I just had to laugh. As I was about to say something he held up his finger. "Diane, I think you need to let me talk. First off, of course I looked at you, I saw you the minute you walked in the door. Every man here looked. Your a very beautiful women, every movement of your body is elegant, yet sensual. You didn’t hide your beauty, your sexuality is on display, he gestured to my dress. When your husband, at the time I had no way of knowing that, left, I decided I wanted you. You responded to me, I did see the rings on your finger, I knew you were married, most of the women hear are married, they just don’t bring their husbands. I’ll be honest, I plead guilty, I figured you were intending to cheat, yes I thought you were a slut, a very beautiful slut, one I fully intended to fuck." "That was over an hour ago, in that hour I’ve found you to be intelligent, witty, friendly and warm. Your a very captivating women, Diane. Maybe your a beautiful, sensual, intelligent, witty, slut, but would that so bad, Diane. Perhaps some would call me a stud, isn’t it all the same thing, we enjoy sex, we enjoy the company of many partners. What I don’t understand is your here with me, your husband is over there watching us, he’s not reacting, if you were mine, Diane, I’d be reacting. That reaction, more likely then not, would get me throw in jail." Flattery maybe, a good line maybe, but what ever it was it gave me a feeling of confidence. I liked this man, he sure knew how to push my buttons. I did like his idea about being a slut, he surely didn’t give it a negative connotation. What I was intending to do tonight, and most likely again in the future, most would consider sluty. Even I considered it sluty, Mark was right, there was a double standard, he was a stud, I was a slut. You know something, I don’t give a damn, being a slut is so liberating. "Mark, that man over there," pointing to my husband, "is the love of my life. I think, I pray, I’m the love of his life also. Tonight things have changed between us, maybe in a way our love has changed. Tonight he has given me a gift, I suppose if I’m blunt, it’s a gift to be a slut. I prefer to think of his gift, as my liberation. That is in some ways a bitter gift, a painful one, but one he can’t now take away, he lost his right to do so the minute he gave it to me. I am not as you seem to think, this wild sexually liberated women, I intend to be, I would love for you to be the one to show me the way. I love how you speak, I loved what you said about me, if it’s not a line. But I don’t see myself in the light of your eyes, I don’t feel beautiful, I don’t feel that I’m this creature all of these men desire. I’d like to feel that way, I’d love to see desire and lust in all of these men. I’d love to watch their disappointment as we leave tonight, hand in hand." "Mark, show me what is in your eyes, show these men your desire for me, my desire for you. Maybe you know more of what I’m capable of then I myself do. You had a little taste of one of my desire on the dance floor. In the last hour, I’ve reveled more about my true sexual nature to you, then I have to my husband. I’m the canvas, your the artist, paint me as you see me, if I’m truly that slut, show me, show all of them," I said gesturing to the room. "Make your painting sensual, make it deliciously wicked, make it wanton, yes Mark paint me as a wanton women. I want them all to see, but most of all I want," pointing to John, "John to know I’ve accepted his gift. In so many ways it a wonderful gift, but it’s also a very bitter gift, a gift that I’m not sure a husband has a right to give his wife. I want him to feel that bitterness, and want him to know my pain, make him feel my pain. Show him what he has never shown me." No more words were spoken, only actions. Mark, rain his fingers across my lips, moved his other hand to my thigh, his fingers gentle caressing the inner part. His hand slide to the back of my head as he pulled me to him. His lips hot, as we kissed, his tongue probing. I had no idea what was coming, I was nervous, I can’t say I responded well to his kiss, I didn’t. I have a habit of playing with the buttons of my blouse, in this case my dress, if I’m nervous, instinctively my hand went to the buttons of my dress. As I think back this was a very strange thing for me to have done, maybe a signal. Mark was fast to react to my habit, he nibbled on my ear then whispered "Unbutton it." I hesitated, he whispered, "I’m the artist, do you want me to paint this picture or not." I unbutton it, his hand moved from my leg to my upper chest. Then the next and the next, doing so as he instructed me. As each button allow him more access to my body his hand explored, but never once exposing me. As my fingers rested on the last button, Mark again whispered, "You wanted lust, you wanted desire, open your eyes Diane, look around you." I hadn’t even realized I’d closed my eyes, when I looked, every man within site had his eyes on me. Their eyes were filled with lust and desire. I was filled with the same lust, same desire. Again Mark whispered "Diane, you want to be wanton, I can’t make you be what you want, only you can do so. You want John to feel you pain, only you can do that. The last button is up to you." It really wasn’t hard, I was already wanton, I wanted to be displayed, I not only unbuttoned that button, I open my dress, and slipped it off my shoulders. I surrendered myself to my new lover and every other man who could see. I’m sure I wasn’t the first wanton women Mark had been with, he knew what I wanted, he needed no instruction. His hand slide up my leg, as he did I opened them wide, his hand went over my vulva pausing only momentarily before continuing to my breast. He fondled me, he lifted each breast as if measuring their weight, he ran my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. His mouth covered my breasts, as his hand found my wetness, inserting first one finger, then another, my hips thrust against his hand, signally my desire. The trust of his hand exaggerated, my thrust equally so, I didn’t want what he was doing hidden, I wanted it public, I wanted all to see but mostly John. I wished John was next to me hearing the lustful moans coming from deep inside me. I have no concept of time, I don’t know how long he continued, I only know it felt so wonderful. When his hand finally stopped thrusting in and of out my vagina, I was ready to explode, it only took the slightest of touch to my clitoris to bring on my orgasm, I throw my head back as the waves of ecstasy rushed through my body. I had intended to fake an orgasm, thinking it just wouldn’t happen, it happened, I didn’t need to fake anything, if John was watching, he saw me as he’d never seen me before. When my orgasm finally subsided, I looked around the room, all eyes were on me, not just the men’s, lust filled everyone of them. As I watched some of the men adjust in there seat, pulling at the edges of their pants, I grinned, I’d built more then just lust. I looked to the bar, John was gone, I knew he was on his way home, I couldn’t have given a stronger signal. I wondered if he’d felt bitterness and pain at my complete surrender to another man, surrendering in a way I never had for him. I told Mark it was time to go, and started to button my dress, the look on Mark’s face told me why bother. I had to agree why bother, they needed a finale, I wanted them to see my wetness as it trickled down my legs. I wanted to display all that had been hidden under that table. As I walked out of the club, I’d never felt so high in my life, no drug could have produced the feelings I was feeling. No drug could have been this addictive. Just before I left the club, I turned and looked back, I was sure I’d be back, there’s a first time for everything, who knows when the last well be. As I walked out the door, I was amazed by what I’d done, by all the men I’d put a show on for. Their lust, their desire, my lust, my desire, then it struck me, all these men, all these men, and I wondered. Then I thought about the path I was about to be lead down, yes I was sure that someday I’d find out about the fantasy I’d just had about men, lots of men. I wondered would John feel some pain when that happened, maybe by then I’d no longer care. Trust comes fast sometime, I had complete trust that Mark was the right choice. I trusted him in every way, when he opened his car door for me I didn’t hesitate to get in, we could pick my car up tomorrow, maybe the next day. "Your place or mind he asked." I smile, then gave him directions. As I slipped completely out of my dress, intending to give Mark a little show of his own, I thought of John, I felt my love for him. I knew I always would love him, he’d always be part of my life but love changes, mine had. I thought of the precious gift he’d given me, the bitterness nearly abated. But I knew I had a few more desire to fulfill before I was completely liberated. I knew Mark was the right man to take me there, he was the right man to show John what I was capable of. He was the right man to show John the price of his gift, yes John still had a price to pay, gifts are not free they can be expensive. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ That my dear readers is another story, one I’ll tell you about next time. Perhaps my last few stories lacked the passion of my earlier ones, but that passion was spurred by hate, I’ve lost the hate. I hope you liked this one better, I tried to feel some passion. The emotional dilemma is real, I could want exactly what my husband wanted, me having sex with other men, I’d still feel pain and some bitterness. Given the right situation, the right husband, the right first time lover, one that would end up somewhat long term, I’d need that kind of man, perhaps I could get over that pain and bitterness. My objection, my writings, have been about men who are obsessed with their wife’s sleeping with other men. An obsession that, taken to an extreme can almost destroy a woman’s life. Sex to most woman is never just sex, I know it can be that way for you men, you separate your emotions, you feel lust, that is all. Our emotions are the very essence of our sexuality, love, passion, lust, happiness, fear they’re all mixed together. It just isn’t so easy for us to have recreational sex, if it was, you would be real shocked if some of us lived our fantasies. You men who want the cuckold life style, want us to throw away our emotions, not to mention some morals, along with a major part of our upbringing, it just isn’t that easy. Even if we can get past all of that, we still need a desire, most of us don’t have the desire to act as you want us to act. That said, I know some women can enjoy an open life style, they love living with a cuckold, they can fulfill all those nasty little fantasies. I say, way to go girl. I still think when those women look into their husband’s eyes they feel some pain, they surly don’t have the respect they once had for their husbands. My Husband's Girlfriend (Her) For years I had a fantasy about setting up my man with another woman. The idea of him sliding his hard thick cock into another pussy makes me want him even more. I did spend the last decade training him to be an amazing fuck, after all; why shouldn't I let a few select women benefit? Earlier in our marriage, he had travelled a lot on business and I took advantage of his schedule to have a little fun of my own. He had stayed faithful, being the "good conservative professional" that he was, but I really wanted him to go out and explore. When he discovered my extracurricular activities, he was furious at first; but with a little persuasion, and a lot of cock sucking, he came around to my way of seeing things. I had my fun, now it was his turn. With his permission, I put some feelers online and quickly found him a suitable girlfriend; a tall voluptuous blonde in her mid 20's with a nice curvy ass and large perky breasts. The three of us talked, off and on, for the next several weeks. I quickly discovered that she and I shared the same zeal for sexual exploration. I also discovered a terrible secret: She had never cum with a man before. I could hardly believe it when she told me! She had never been with an experienced man and had only gotten off with her toys. It was such a shame too; she was so hot and eager to please, even I wanted to fuck her! Being the good friend and wife that I am, I conspired with her to move things along. I asked my husband to take off work one day to come meet me in a hotel room. After he arranged for the time off, I confessed to him that it wouldn't be me he was meeting. I told him that his rendezvous would be with her and demanded that he fuck her, no matter how long it took, until she was screaming with pleasure while cumming with his big cock inside her. I also had one additional request: That he record her first orgasm with man. (Him) When I arrived at the hotel, I was admittedly a tad nervous. I had only been with one other woman since my wife had convinced me to start "playing" and am still rather new to this lifestyle. I had met this girl a couple of times but we had yet to do anything sexual. After being married over a decade to a nympho, there wasn't much I wasn't comfortable doing in bed. I did; however, have to respect the fact that this new girl had been sexually neglected all her life. I knew that she would be nervous, anxious, and probably even a little intimidated. When she came to the door, I invited her in and asked her to have a seat on the bed. We chatted for a while; exchanging small talk while taking some time to let the nerves settle and get comfortable with the situation. Once she seemed relaxed, I moved closer and started kissing her. Kissing quickly evolved into heavy petting and, before I knew it, her panties were off and my fingers were deep inside her swollen wet pussy; stroking her G-spot while I slowly navigated around her neck with my lips. I'm blessed with a thick cock so foreplay isn't an option; it's a necessity. I have to take my time to make sure that pussy is wet, primed, and ready. If I'm not patient, sliding it in can be difficult at best and painful at worst. I loosened her up with just my fingers, at first, and then used my tongue to play with her clit while I continued to stroke her G-spot. She eventually grew so hungry for my cock that I flipped her over into a 69. The feeling of her swallowing my cock as she shoved her pussy deep into my face was intense. We played like this for a while, perhaps 30 or 40 minutes, before I decided she was ready to take me in. She had already cum several times so I knew it wouldn't take much for her to cum again once I was inside her. It was at this point that, with her permission, I started recording . . . * * * * * Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (20 min/mp3) * * * * *