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Pillow Talk, Not Just Pillow Talk

By: PositiveThinker



For me, the summertime was our season for pillow talk. Ripe with erotica, maybe it was the warmer weather that necessitated wearing fewer clothes and my wife, Gloria, walking around in a bikini and attracting the leering looks of men that inspired my dirty thoughts about her. For whatever the reason, during our pillow talking sessions, I told Gloria all that I sexually imagined about her having sex with others, while I watched.

I don't know why that fantasy excited me so, but it did. It excited me to think about her interacting sexually with another man, a woman, a man and a woman, or multiple men. Sitting in the dark, while stroking my cock, I wanted to watch. I wanted to see her reaction to the sexual pleasure that others gave her.

In hindsight, perhaps, I over did it, but I talked about whatever was sexually on my mind at the time and maybe I smothered her with too much pillow talk. How much is too much? Without having an instruction manual, there's no measure and no way to know. Unfortunately, much like normalcy and insanity, we may not know until we cross the imaginary line and then it's too late.

Unfortunately, now that we've upset the balance and broken the fine line that separates erotica from perversion, it's difficult to return to how it used to be. Once, you've crossed the line, once you've put yourself out for the sexual inspection of others, it's too late. Sometimes, it's for the better and sometimes it's for the worse. This was one of those times that it backfired and blew up in my face. Be careful what you wish for because this could happen to you.

Being much older than my young, trophy of a wife, clearing the air by sharing my sexual thoughts with pillow talk was necessary for me to get romantically excited with her. Only, believing she was stimulated by the same erotic thoughts and the same whispered dirty words, I discovered that I didn't know what she was thinking, until it was too late. If I knew then what I know now, I never would have started the foolishness of pillow talk and confessing my desires for her to have sex with others, while I watched. I like to watch.

I thought I knew my wife. I thought she loved me. I thought we were totally compatible. Base on those beliefs and sensing that I could totally trust her with whatever we discussed and all that I confessed; I thought she enjoyed pillow talk, as much as I did. Little did I know how tragically this story would end and had I known, I would have appreciated what I had with her and never would have risked our relationship to start this pillow talking nonsense.

I wished I had listened to my wife when she said that she didn't want to have pillow talk. Only, I ignored her figuring that she was just shy talking about such things and would enjoy it more, once we started it and continued it on a regular basis. In hindsight, I can see now that she was clearheaded and not driven by the lust of pillow talk in the way that I was. Thinking more of my sexual needs than hers, being sexually selfish in my need to push her to explore an extramarital affair with others, I should have tempered my need for pillow talk with more physical sex from me and only from me, that more satisfied her sexual needs, rather than just verbalizing my sexual thoughts in wanting her to have sex with others.

"That's all you want to do, Paul, is to have pillow talk. You used to want to have sex, now you just want to talk about me having sex with someone else, while you watch."

She was right. I can see that now. Yet, it was exciting fun to think about the possibilities of her with another rather than to face the realities of me having a difficult time getting aroused enough to sexually satisfy her. If my sexy wife, Gloria, was to have an affair, and after insisting she give me all the sordid details during hot pillow talk, would I end the relationship and kick her to the curb? Or would I be so excited that I'd want her to have more affairs, just so she could whisper to me what she did with whom, while stroking my cock before blowing me?

"How was your day, Gloria?"

"Well, I went shopping at the mall and tried on some shoes."

"Tell me, did you give him a show?"

"I did. You should have seen the look on the man's face when he saw that I wasn't even wearing panties."

"Tell me more, Gloria, what else did you do?"

"I bought a dress at that boutique you so love."

"I do love that boutique. Their dressing rooms are the only ones at the mall that still have curtains, curtains that never close all the way."

"I was thinking of you, pretending it was you standing outside the curtain, while watching me remove my blouse and skirt to try on a dress naked, instead of the two gentlemen, who were there waiting for their wives and/or girlfriends, while watching me undress."

"Do you think they saw much?"

"Oh, I made sure they saw everything, Paul, taking my time parading around in front of the opening naked. I'm sure they saw my ass, my tits, and my shaved pussy." 

I don't know, but how could I leave her? She still makes my knees weak; she's so sexy and so beautiful. It doesn't matter what she does or doesn't do, so long as she gives me hot pillow talk. Just being with her, with her on my arm and with her lying in bed beside me naked, while spooning her and feeling her big tits, is enough for me.

I couldn't help but wonder about her with her best friend, Sheila. Gloria was a blonde, a natural blonde and Sheila was a redhead, a natural redhead. Sheila was hot, as hot as Gloria. I never had sex with a redhead before, and I'd do Sheila, if I had the opportunity. Certainly not for the lack of trying, I've been trying to get her down to the dark, deep end of the pool for two years.

After taking a Viagra, I could get aroused enough to do Sheila. Always together, they went everywhere, especially shopping, and did everything together. Sometimes when alone and horny, I imagine doing Gloria and Sheila together. It was exciting to ask Gloria and to hear her tell me what Sheila looked like naked. While listening to her, I wondered if Sheila's husband Ron asked his wife what Gloria looked like naked. It was exciting to imagine he did, just as it was exciting to imagine that she told him.

I imagined them trying on clothes in the same dressing room at that boutique with the curtains that don't close all the way and flashing men, while giggling like the girls they still are. I imagined them already having seen one another in their lingerie, when trying on clothes or naked, when trying on bikinis. I imagined them having a couple of drinks back at the house and being attracted to one another. I imagined them suddenly feeling horny, making out, and touching each other, before having hot, lesbian sex.

Now her summertime regimen, Gloria had become more health conscious, exercising, dieting, and taking private lessons. She had a personal trainer, a tennis pro, and a golf pro. After meeting them, I wondered about them. They were all young, good looking, and in better physical condition than me. If they had my money, she'd be gone with one of them, no doubt.

With me being fifteen years older than she is, but now with her getting older, our May/December romantic relationship reversed with her being December and the young lovers that I imagined her with being May. Except for the hot pillow talk that I had with her, I found myself out of the picture. Is that it? Is our sexual relationship over? Instead of being attracted to an older man, did she now lust over younger men? Instead of being the bitchin' sexy babe she once was, has she suddenly become a cougar on the prowl, in the way that I have become the dirty, old man and lecherous husband?

Yet, I knew better. I knew that her interest in her personal trainer, tennis pro, and golf pro was merely professional and innocent. I knew there was nothing going on there but some erotic wishful thinking on my part and the perversion of my active imagination and what I imagined she'd do with them, after having some hot pillow talk with me. Still, it was exciting to imagine her on her back with her legs spread or on her knees with her mouth open, while the personal trainer, the tennis pro, or the golf pro had his way with her hot body.

Then, I wondered, what if they all had their way with her already? What if she was doing them all, one at a time, or all three together? Just as I know she's not having hot sex with any one of them, it was still exciting to think that she was. 

In talking to her late at night about it, I couldn't help but wonder if the personal trainer accidentally on purpose touched her boobs, while exercising her lats with pull downs. I wondered if he peeked up her short shorts, stealing glances past her shapely thighs and at her panties hoping to see her pussy, while holding her by her ankles, as she did crunches. Just as I wondered what he saw of her body that he shouldn't have seen, I wondered what she saw of his body that she lusted over seeing and wanted to touch and experience in the privacy of the locker room later.

I wondered if he gave her a massage and accidentally on purpose positioned the towel to slip off her oily body to expose her ass, tits, and/or pussy.

"Oops! Sorry. Now, that I've seen your ass, tits, and pussy, perhaps we should continue the massage without the towel."

After working her tense muscles, I wondered if she worked his stiff cock. I wondered, as part of his personal training and personal service, if he fucked her right there on the massage table. I wondered when lying on her stomach, while he worked her tense neck and sore shoulders, if she worked his hard cock and big balls through his skimpy shorts. I imagined her lifting her head, pulling down his shorts, and stroking his cock, before taking so much of him in her mouth. This poisonous pillow talk was proving to be a dangerous pill to swallow, only, I couldn't get enough of it. It was erotic and exciting fun.

I wondered if he peeked at her taking a shower on the pretense of collecting dirty towels and bringing her fresh, clean ones.

"It's just me collecting dirty towels and bringing you fresh, clean ones. Sorry, but I need to get the wet towels off the floor, before they get moldy. Don't worry; I won't look at your naked body...much. I won't peek."

I wondered if her personal trainer, who owned the gym, stood behind a two-way mirror masturbating, while watching her taking her time drying her hot, naked body. I wondered if he had a hidden camera and watched and recorded her every move, while she was at the gym to post to the Internet later. I wondered if he jerked over the imagined thoughts of having sex with her, as I jerked off over the imagined thoughts of her having sex with him. I wondered if she fucked him in the Jacuzzi and sucked his cock in the sauna. Only, what if she told him she loved him? Boy that would suck. 

Proud of her shapely body, she's a bit of an exhibitionist in the way that she parades around in her bikini and her oh, so short skirts and low cut tops. Imagining her bending over on the escalator on the pretense of adjusting her shoe, trying on shoes in a shoe store with the help of a horny shoe salesman, and alighting from her car with her legs spread without wearing panties, I wondered how many men have seen her panties and have seen her pussy. Imagining her leaning forward, while signing papers at her lawyer's office, at the bank with her horny banker, or at the checkout line in a department store or the supermarket, I wondered how many men have seen down her blouse and have seen her perfect tits.

Just as I wondered if she got off showing her beautiful body to others, it was fun to imagine that she did, while asking her about it over pillow talk. I wondered if she flashed her body to her tennis pro. I wondered if she pulled a Paris Hilton or a Britney Spears or a Lindsay Lohan and accidentally on purpose forgot to wear panties beneath her short tennis skirt. 

"Don't look at my soft, shaved, tight pussy, Brad. I'm so embarrassed. I forgot my panties. Avert your eyes, please, whenever I swing a backstroke or a forearm, and, especially, when I bend over to retrieve my balls. Please refrain from staring at my shapely ass and my ever so wet pussy. I'm a happily married woman, after all."

I wondered if she wore her low cut tennis top without a bra and flashed him her surgically enhanced, magnificent boobs.

"Nice tits," I imagined the tennis pro complimenting her.

She does have nice tits. A gift from me on our first anniversary and enhanced on our seventh anniversary, they sure cost me enough. Yet, they were a gift for me, too. I've enjoyed them immensely. Her plastic surgeon is an artistic with a scalpel. 

"I had no idea you could see my tits. I'm so embarrassed," I imagined her saying, while peering down her opened top along with his leering stare. "You didn't see my nipples and my areolas did you?"

"I didn't before, but I do now," I imagined him responding with a shit eating grin. "You have beautiful tits. I love your tits."

"Thank you. Well, since you've already seen my nipples and areolas, since you love my tits, I may as well just remove my top, then, and have you suck my nipples, before I suck your cock," I imagined her saying, as I jerked off over the thoughts of her doing the tennis pro.

I wondered if she was the 19th hole during her private golf instruction. I imagined the golf pro getting up real close behind her, while working on her swing, after lusting over her and her hot body for 18 holes. I imagined him humping her round, firm ass with his big, hard cock, while being freely inappropriate with his hot, horny hands and feeling her perfect tits on the pretense of positioning her body.

"Allow me to hold and move your tits out of the way while you take a practice swing. Not too hard, though. You don't want to hit me in the head with your club," I imagined him saying to her and her buying it.

I imagined her bending to retrieve her ball and him sinking his big wedge in her hole, while slapping his balls behind her sexy, round, and tight hole.

"Fore!"

Four times is the number of times I imagined they did it on the fairway, in the ruff, in the sand trap, and on the green.

"Oh, Mister Ryan, is this part of our golf instruction, too?" 

"You bet your ass it is, Honey. Now, get on your knees and say ah. I need to putt, I mean, I need you to pucker up, while I drive one in your pie hole." 

Threading shallow waters, we started slowly before wading deeper into uncharted discussions. Teasing one another with innuendoes and implied sexual suggestions, we looked for buried erotic treasure with our hot pillow talk. Without a guide and without a map, we continued diving deeper in the ocean of sex, where we had never gone before. After a while, there was no turning back, especially after talking about what we'd do with whom. Submerged below the surface of lust by the heated passion of our sexual innuendoes, as our pillow talk progressed and became more sexually explicit, it didn't take us long to get in the deep end.

Only, I hoped we weren't diving in over our heads. We had a good thing going and I didn't want to smother the sexual intimacy we shared by confessing too many erotic revelations. It was a fine and artful balance to know how much pillow talk was needed to give to heighten the erotic experience without suffocating it, choking it, and gagging it with too much pillow talk. Every once in a while, I'd allow her to surface for air by talking more about something unrelated and making small talk about the house or about her day.

We loved one another, we truly did, but it was obvious that neither she nor I were enough to satisfy our every sexual urge. When you think about it, no one really is. The more we talked about having sex with others, the more we wanted to experience someone else, and the more we secretly tried something behind the other's back. She claimed she never did, but I knew better. I knew she was cheating on me. I knew she had a lover that she was fucking and sucking. A woman too much for any one man, with such inspired sexuality, how else could she get to be such a great pillow talker?

It was just talking about sex after all, sex without the responsibility of a relationship. What did it matter? We already had this wonderful relationship and the ones prior with our first marriages, and our other sexual relationships in the past and in between, before meeting one another. Sexually experienced, we both knew what we wanted and it wasn't as if we loved the person we talked about having sex with. We only wanted to take what we needed from our sexy pillow talking discussions and use it to fire up our passion for one another. 

Surely, we didn't want to sacrifice what we had for one another for someone else. We just wanted to talk about having sex with someone new, so as to recapture that exciting feeling we had when Gloria and I first met. What's so wrong with that? It was all purely innocent. It was just talk, pillow talk.

This summertime pillow talk became part of our permanent foreplay and, after a while, the pillow talk excited her as much as it did me, at least, that was what I thought.

"Paul, must we talk about having sex with others all the time? Aren't you happy with me? Why can't we talk about us? Let's talk about something else, something other than fucking and sucking our neighbors and friends. Tell me about your day. Tell me what you did in work."

What I did in work? I fucked Anne, my secretary, I wanted to say and I needed to tell her, so that I could make that part of my life, part of our pillow talk. I fucked her so hard that I thought I was going to bang her head through the wall. Then, she sucked my cock and I exploded a load of cum in her mouth and across her face.

I wanted to tell her every dirty detail of how I seduced Anne, but I didn't. The first time was in my office, after everyone had gone home and then, again, on a business trip and, again, at her place. Now, we book a hotel room once a week and go at it like dirty dogs, in the way that Gloria and I used to, before we lost that lustful feeling.

Okay, perhaps, I enjoyed hearing about Gloria's sexual escapades a little bit more than she enjoyed telling me about what I imagined were her extramarital affairs and those sexual encounters she had before she married me. Admittedly, in hindsight, it was a dangerous game we played, one that could inflame our marriage or end it. Only, I wasn't sure if she was playing me just to appease me, so that I'd shower her with expensive gifts, or telling me those things that really happened.

There, of course, was another possibility. What if she was just saying these things only to elicit those indiscretions that I did to use against me later, possibly, during a divorce proceeding and in a court of law? In the heat of our sexual discussions, it didn't matter. Working in opposition to my guilty conscience, putting caution aside, my trust in her vetoed my commonsense and I shared my most intimate wants, needs, and desires to her. The pillow talk erased whatever trepidations I had and I confessed every depraved sexual thing I wanted her to do with others, while I admitted wanting to watch her doing them.

"Who would you do, if you could," I asked, while she nestled comfortably beside me?

This was my favorite position, naked in bed with her by my side, while she fondled my cock and I fondled her big, phony, albeit perfect tit. Her body felt so good, so soft and warm. It was comforting to hold her, while she fondled my cock and I fondled her delicious ass.

I love how she looks. I love her body. I love her.

The excitement I felt, when beginning the pillow talk, steadily climbed, as I asked her questions. The questions were nearly as exciting as the answers. Only, when she was in the mood to play the pillow talking game, it was her teasingly seductive answers that made me want to continue and never want to stop playing.


Pillow Talk, Not Just Pillow Talk



"I'm married to you, Paul. I don't want anyone else. Now, that I found you," she said giving me a peck on the lips and looking up at me with those big, blue eyes, "I'm done with other men."

"C'mon, Gloria, just play along, who would you do, if I was killed in a car accident, God forbid?"

"Eww! That's a horrible thing to say," she said looking at me with a smile. "I'm not going to allow you to drive my car anymore. Do you know how difficult it is to remove blood from the upholstery?"

"Your sincere concern for my death and for the condition of your upholstery is duly noted. Very funny," I said. "Besides, it's only horrible, until my attorney reads the will and you discover all that you'll inherit."

"Well, I am your wife," she said with evidence of a sexy smile, "and I am entitled to half that you have alive and all that you have dead," she said wrapping her hand tighter around my cock.

Was she smiling because she was happy she was my wife or was she smiling knowing that she'd be a rich woman and free to do whatever and whomever she wanted after I'm gone?

"Just play along and tell me. Okay? From out of all the men that we both know, who would you do? And feel free to name more than one, as many as you want, and women, for that matter, too."

It was always more exciting when I actually knew the person I imagined making love to my wife. It was hot when I thought about her giving a blowjob to one of my friends. I imagined one of my best pals giving me the high five, while passing along his compliment. "You're wife is a great, little cocksucker."

"Thank you," I imagined saying to him before asking him to tell me all the dirty details of their love connection over a beer at the bar.

"You'd want me to name a woman, wouldn't you? All you guys are alike. I bet you'd like to see me with Sheila," she said dashing my hopes and making my excitement short lived with her next comment. "I'm not lesbian, Paul, or even bi-sexual. I could never be with a woman. I like men too much. Give me a cock any day, your cock, to any pussy and to anyone else's cock."

"C'mon, just for the sake of some hot, sexy fun, tell me. Who would you do?"

"I wouldn't do anyone," said Gloria with a sudden sadness to her voice. "I'd be in mourning."

"I see. Okay. After you mourned my loss for ten or twenty years, then who would you do?"

"You mean, after I mourned your loss for 24 hours, who would I do? No one," she laughed. "I'd be too busy shopping and spending all your money," she said with her sexy laugh.

I loved it when she teased me. At least, I hoped she was teasing when she said she'd only mourn my death for 24 hours and spend all my money. I wouldn't want to see my baby alone for long, but a year or two without her fucking and sucking another man is a respectable amount of time to mourn my passing.

"I can see you joining group therapy with others who lost a spouse," I said in sincere seriousness. "Any death after all, especially my death, is a serious thing."

"You're right. I would join a group. Once I was able to deal with the tragedy of spending my life without you, I'd join the Convent Order of Sisters Who Lost Perverted Husbands," she said with a laugh.

"You'd make a very sexy Nun," I said while reaching around her to squeeze her perfect, surgically sculpted ass. Again, I marveled, her plastic surgeon is an artist with a scalpel.

Suddenly, I imagined her as a Catholic Nun. Suddenly, I imagined having sex with her friend Sheila, another Sister of the Holy Order of Sisters Who Lost Perverted Husbands. I always wondered what Nuns wore beneath their habits. I always wondered if they were as horny as I am now.

I know it's sacrilegious, but I couldn't help imagining a priest having his way with Sister Gloria in the convent. I imagined her blowing him, while she was on her knees praying, before I imagined Sister Gloria and Sister Sheila having lesbian sex and the priest joining in, while I watched it all and masturbated from the window outside.

"I'd live the remainder of my life in solitude and in prayer," she said flashing me her smile. "While hoping that they had pizza delivery and the delivery man was cute."

She looked up at me and laughed over greeting the pizza delivery man. I loved her laugh. It was sexy and contagious and she had a great smile.

Suddenly, I imagined her emerging from the shower and walking downstairs naked to answer the door, while very slowly and very methodically putting a towel around her voluptuous body. I imagined her acting oblivious to the pizza delivery man watching her through the glass side panel of the front door, as she walked down the stairs, while wrapping a towel around her sexy, naked body. My cock hardened to the excitement of his lust for her.

Answering the door wearing nothing more than a towel and her sexy smile, I imagined her losing her smile, along with her towel, when reaching for the pizza.

"Oops, please don't look at my big, phony tits. I'm so embarrassed. Please don't look at my shaved pussy or my surgically sculpted ass. I'm naked," I imagined her saying, while feebly feigning her embarrassment.

On the pretense of falling to her knees to retrieve her towel, I imagined her not resisting the pizza man's lust for her, when he put a hand to the back of her head and pulled her closer to double check her pizza order.

"Did you order pepperoni with your pizza?"

"Yes."

"Well, I forgot to give it to you," I imagine him saying to Gloria and her falling for his line.

The excitement of her unzipping the man's fly, pulling out his cock, and blowing him, filled my mind with the possibilities of this really happening one day in the near future. I imagined watching the show from the front hall closet with the door opened just enough for me to enjoy watching her suck another man's cock.

Gladly, the man was happy to accept a blowjob instead of a tip. I played with my cock in the closet, while he played with my wife's tits by the front door. The imagined vision of her performing fallacio on the man made me momentarily pause my pillow talk, but I was now even more excitedly eager to continue.

"So, you'd never marry again?"

"I didn't say that," she said suddenly just holding my penis instead of stroking it. "You know I don't like to be alone without a man in my life. I need sex as much as you do. Okay, maybe not quite as much as you do, but I'd miss having someone to cuddle with and spoon with at night. Besides, no one wants to be alone. Everyone should have someone special in their lives."

Although the thought of her with another man was exciting, the thought of her cuddling and spooning her naked body against the naked body of another man made me jealous. I wondered who'd take my place, after I was gone. Maybe she has someone in mind, already. Maybe she'd play the field with a multitude of lovers, younger lovers, men who could sexually show her a good time, a better time than I could. Maybe with all the money I left her, she'd turn into a real slut. Nah, she's not like that, but it's exciting to think that she could become as sexually depraved as I am.

With the imagined thoughts of her fucking a gigolo, I felt a bit sad. This pillow talk had another edge to it that was very sharp and great care needed to be taken to handle it, so as not to be cut. Suddenly, she was quiet, pensive almost. 

Oftentimes, the butt of dumb blonde jokes, she sometimes relished playing the dumb blonde, especially if it was a way for her to get what she wanted. She could sometimes confound you in her inability to walk and chew gum at the same time. Only, I've learned that it's pure folly for the poor person who underestimates the scheming intelligence of my conniving wife. She's anything but dumb. She could be a wicked woman, when there's something she wants.

With a cutting remark that makes you want to slap her or kiss her, depending on the situation and depending on the remark, she can suddenly surprise you with a well developed comment that showed her amazing insight to a person or a situation. Much in the sly, sexy way of a Jennifer Marlowe, played by Loni Anderson on WKRP in Cincinnati, Gloria was no dumb blonde. If she was, I never would have married her.

Physical beauty can only carry someone so far. I realize it may be difficult for some to imagine, but to sustain a relationship I need more than tits, ass, and pussy. Just as a woman needs a man, who possesses it all, a man with money, power, influence, charm, character, and looks, a man must have a woman who has more substance to maintain his continued interest than just mere beauty. Beautiful women, much like writers, are a dime a dozen. Okay, I agree, we all will overlook many character flaws of a beautiful woman who has a hot body, especially if that beautiful woman is naked and in bed with you.

Now that she was no longer stroking my cock meant that she was thinking and I wondered what she was thinking. Was she thinking about doing other men? Was she thinking about doing a certain someone? Who was she thinking about, certainly not me?

Our second time around the marriage circuit, we've been together long enough that she's no longer on the pedestal and I'm no longer her hero. We've both had a past and we've both made mistakes over the years, while apart and while together, especially, when we were drinking during one of our infamous pool parties.

"What about Jimmy? Would you do him?"

"Jimmy? No, I wouldn't do our next door neighbor. Besides, Julie is a dear friend." She looked up at me and I knew what she was going to ask me before she even asked the question. "Would you do Julie?"

"Fuck yeah, she's hot. I mean, I'd only do her if you and Jimmy were killed in a car crash, God forbid, after mourning your loses several years, months, weeks, days, hours," I said laughing.

She hit me lightly in the ribs and we both laughed, but now it was out there and now it was her turn. We had opened the door to our little erotic game, a sexy game that, to be played correctly, needed to be continually fed. Only, the feeding of it would surely fire our passion to escalate the game and to want to try this game with others. Nonetheless, we continued this game of pillow talk nearly every time we were alone together and in the mood romantically. It was a diversion that I was always eager to play, whether in the bedroom, in the car, at the mall, or while watching television. It was a sport that I'd mute the baseball game and turn the TV off even, just to play the game with her.

No longer just pillow talk, it had become a contest of erotic teasing and consensual sexual musings. After a while, this type of entertainment had become the main focus of most of my conversations with her. Admittedly, the game didn't mean as much to her as it did to me. I was excited when playing the game and she not only knew that I was but also used my enthusiasm to her advantage, I suspected.

There were some days that she didn't want to play the game and there were some days that I wanted to escalate the game. It was just pillow talk, after all, I thought back then, when it started and before it had morphed into an exciting, albeit dangerous game of infidelity. Surely, no harm can happen just talking about sex and talking about having an affair. Realistically, everything we said was out in the open and we weren't sneaking around the other's back or were we?

"I know your type," she said with a sexy smile.

"You do?" I looked at her wondering, who she thought was my type and, who she'd pick out for me. "Who?"

"You're easy," she said. "You're all talk. Only, you're not a pig. You're not the type to pick someone up in a bar and have sex with them in the backseat of a car. You have more class than that."

"Thank you," I said, while thinking about the woman who I picked up at the bar a few months ago and plied with happy hour drinks.

We continued our little party in her car, where we made out like horny teenagers, while she fondled my cock through my pants and I felt her breasts through her blouse. She was a hottie with big natural tits, at least a C cup, maybe even a D cup. I don't even remember her name, Debbie or Linda, some name with two syllables, but she blew me.

I always wondered if she went home to her husband or boyfriend and during some hot pillow talk told them that she sucked off a stranger. In hindsight, maybe her man put her up to it, as I hoped to put Gloria up to it, and was there watching her blow me from a distance. I was a little too drunk and too excited to even notice him if he was there watching or not. It was a good thing I didn't have my car with me that day and took a cab home from the office because I was too drunk to drive.

Still, it was exciting to watch her unzip me, pull out my cock, and stare at it, while stroking it and before blowing me. Then, when she slid herself down in the seat and took me in her mouth, I unbuttoned her blouse, undid her bra, and fondled her big tits. She gave me her number, but I never called her. Especially with my cock in her mouth, the back of her head was prettier than her face. Besides, considering who I had waiting for me at home, she wasn't my type. She was too short and a bit hippy.

Her blowjob wasn't greater than the guilt that I felt for cheating on my wife. Certainly, her blowjob wasn't better than any of the blowjobs that I've received from Gloria. I'm not even sure why I did it, but I did. I was a little drunk. I was a lot horny. I had much more to lose by cheating on my wife than I had to gain by risking getting a blowjob from a woman I picked up at the bar.

Then, there was the affair that I had with my secretary, Anne. Old enough to be her father, the affair that I had with Anne made me feel young, that is, until I looked in the mirror after having sex with her. Drenched with sweat, I felt older than my age. My face was so red, and with my hair splayed in all directions, I looked as if I had stuck my finger in a wall socket. 

I wanted to tell my wife about my little indiscretions. I wanted to share my sexual excitement with her by confessing my infidelities to her. I wanted to make my extramarital experiences part of our pillow talk, but I thought better of it. Maybe later, I'd share that with her, but not now. 

Maybe later, I could broach the subject of wanting to watch her with her best friend, Sheila, before having a threesome with the two of them or even a foursome with Sheila's husband, Ron. Only, we weren't ready to go there, yet, if ever. There was just no way that my baby doll would ever do Sheila or Ron, never mind doing them together.

"I could see you with Sheila," she said with a smile of victory.

"You can?"

Bingo! You and me both, I thought, stopping myself from saying it out loud. Just as I can see you with Sheila, licking her pussy and her licking your pussy, I can see myself with Sheila, too. Be still my heart. Of all the women we know, I was happy that she chose her. Swinging lifestyle here I cum.

"Yeah, she's your type. Tall and leggy, she's thin but still very curvy and sexy, and she's very pretty."

"I dunno; I couldn't be with your best friend," I said with a look of sadness that rivaled my expression of sorrow when the Dow Jones fell ten thousand points. "That would be too weird. She knows me too well. It would just be so wrong on so many different levels for me to have sex with Sheila. I would never disrespect you by cheating on you with her or with anyone, for that matter."

How was that? Was I convincing enough? Do you think she fell for the part that I couldn't do her best friend? I didn't lay it on too thick, did I, by telling her that it was wrong on so many different levels? More the opposite, it was so right on so many different levels. I'd do Sheila on the first floor, the second floor, the third floor, the roof, outside on the lawn, in the backyard, and the basement of my house, before doing her on every level of her house. Damn, Sheila is as hot as Gloria and I never did a redhead before. 

Definitely, without a doubt, I'd do Sheila. The image of doing Sheila, the thought of touching her while kissing her, made my cock suddenly react to the thought of doing her. The thought of Sheila naked and blowing me made my cock hard and Gloria noticed. Sheila was a good looking woman, as good looking as Gloria and with a body to match. They could be sisters and I imagined they were sisters, while imagining having sex with the both of them. They share the same plastic surgeon and first met in the doctor's office, while waiting to see the doctor.

"See? I told you. I knew you'd do Sheila," she said looking down at my erection before looking up at me and smiling. As if it was a microphone, she lifted up my cock and spoke into it to issue me her warning. "You'd better not," she said reaching down to cup my balls and punctuating her point by giving them a gentle squeeze. "Besides, Sheila wouldn't hurt me by cheating with you. She's a good friend. She'd never do that. She'd never do anything with you," she said triumphantly.

After trying for two years, it was last month that I finally cornered Sheila in the deep, dark end of the pool, while her husband Ron was alone in the house with Gloria making drinks. Now that I recall, it took them a long time to make those drinks and I always wondered if they were doing more than just making cocktails. Hmm, cocktails, such an appropriate word for what I imagined they were doing behind closed doors and behind my back.

The same age as Gloria, Sheila has a fabulous body and we frolicked in the pool. I took every opportunity to touch and feel her body while playing in the tepid water. I know that it was because of the alcohol that we consumed that night that she allowed me to kiss her. We French kissed again and again. She even allowed me to lift her bikini top and caress her perfect C cup tits. There was no resistance when I lifted her up in the water and moved my head down and took her nipples in my mouth, first one and then the other, while reaching behind her and cupping her sweet, firm ass.

It was more than exciting when she reached her hand down and felt my cock through my bathing suit and when I pulled it out; she immediately surrounded it with her fingers. She kissed me while stroking me. Only, not from the lack of excitement of being with her, but between the cool pool water and the alcohol, I was having trouble getting hard. Embarrassed by my inability to maintain an erection, I wished I had taken a Cialis before getting in the pool. Only, I didn't think I'd finally have this opportunity with Sheila that I had been trying to have for so long.

Our private little party ended when I tried to slip my hand down the front of her bathing suit to finger her pussy and get her sexually excited enough to fuck her right there in the deep, dark end of the pool. I suspect, had I maintained an erection, she may have allowed me to fuck her in the pool or she may have blown me in the cabana. Before being rejected, I managed to touch enough of her pussy to know that she was shaved.

I didn't know there were rules. I didn't know how far Sheila would go, until I tried going as far as I could. Oh, yeah, I'd do Sheila. She's sexy. She's hot. She's fun.

Alone with Ron in the house, while I was alone with Sheila in the pool, I always wondered if Gloria did Ron. Busy with Sheila, oblivious to where they were and how long they were gone, they had more than enough time. They had plenty of time for a quickie. 

Maybe she and Ron were doing what Sheila and I were doing. Maybe he lusted after my wife, as much as I lusted over his wife. Maybe she was fondling his cock, while he was sucking her tits. He could have bent her over and did her doggie style or she may have fallen to her knees and taken his cock in her mouth. 

Maybe it was nothing more than my wishful and active imagination. Maybe it was all so very innocent and they were doing nothing more than talking, while making drinks. Still, it was exciting just to think that she had done something sexy with Ron. Suddenly, the image of Gloria on her knees and blowing Ron consumed me with passion and, even if she hadn't sucked his cock, I decided to discuss the suggestion of her blowing Ron over some hot pillow talk. 




Pillow Talk, Not Just Pillow Talk



"What about Ron?"

"What about Ron?"

Already defensive in her body language, guilty as charged, if I had her on the witness stand, I'd win a conviction. In the way she returned my inquiry, at the very least, I knew that there was some hot pillow talk attached to his name with that question. 

"Would you do him?"

"Are you asking me if I'd have sex with Ron?"

"Yes."

"He's my best friend's husband. No, I wouldn't do—"

"You had opportunity."

"What do you mean?" Then, she looked at me and laughed and I couldn't tell if it was a laugh of nervousness of a laugh of ridiculousness that she'd never fool around with her best friend's husband. "You sound like the lawyer that you are. Next, you'll be telling me that I had motive, too," she said laughing again. "And his oozing cock was the smoking gun," she said with more laughter.

Only, what she said wasn't that funny to inspire such raucous roar of laughter. Now I knew that her laughter was her nervous reaction to cover up the fact that she had sex with Ron. I had cross examined enough witnesses on the stand to tell a lie from the truth and Gloria was being coyly deceptive. I know Gloria well enough to trust her and well enough to know when she's hiding something. Definitely, she was hiding something seemingly so small, as small as six inches, that could potentially loom so big over the direction that our relationship would take.

"Now that I think about it, we've had plenty of drunken pool parties where you were alone in the house with Ron. Last month, when you went in the house with him to—"

"And you were alone with Sheila."

As if asking me not to go there, begging my indulgence but without asking me for my forgiveness, she looked at me with questioning eyes. Excited by the thought of an open marriage, but reticent to continue, we were quickly moving beyond pillow talk. We both knew that if we opened this door, a door we could never again close, we were opening the door to allow others into our marriage. The dialogue we were about to have now was a big, first step to having sex with others. It's one thing to have an affair, but it's quite another thing to have multiple affairs with the knowledge and the complicity of your spouse, while affording her approval to do the same.

"Yes, but we were in the pool, in sight of you and Ron from the house," I said saying so much in the way of a verbal chess match.

"You were hidden in the dark, deep end of the pool with Sheila, Paul. I'd have to turn on the security lights to see you two," she said with her typically defiant attitude that told me that not only told me that she was hiding something but also that I needed to back off. Only, I was too sexually excited to do that, just yet.

"It doesn't matter. We were still out in the open and you were in the house with Ron and out of sight from me and Sheila," I said giving her a questioning look. "You two could have been doing anything...and everything." 

"How dare you? You don't hear me asking you about what you did with Sheila. I trust you and I trust her with you. Don't you trust me?"

By knocking me off balance with the issue of trust, putting me on the defensive, I was certain she was hiding her affair with Ron. Even though trust has all to do with the pillow talking game, trust has nothing to do with what we were discussing now. Surely, the issue of trust wouldn't raise its ugly head again, until when we were mired deep in the swinging lifestyle and trusting one another not to fall in love with someone else. This is the time when we needed to ratchet up the dialogue and not water it down with issues of trust and fidelity. Yet, to correctly play the game of pillow talk, we needed to trust one another to not use whatever confessions against the confessor.

Now, if we're talking lust, then we're both guilty of that, her with Ron and me with Sheila. Lust always trumps issues of trust. Nonetheless, I persisted in my cross examination of my witness. I needed to know where we were going with this and how far our vows of holy matrimony would stretch before snapping.

"Did he try anything?"

"Did she try anything?" She looked up at me and smiled again. "Or, more appropriately, did you try anything with her?"

Tit for tat, so that's her defense. She was an equal adversary when it came to pillow talk, only, with her being a woman and me being a man, I was at the disadvantage when talking about wanting to have sex with others versus actually having sex with others. Now, I was positive that something happened between Gloria and Ron, only she wanted me to go first before admitting anything. Okay, I can play that game.

Carefully walking on thin ice, it was exciting not knowing the boundaries and where exactly to step to not fall in deep, frigid waters. I wondered what she did, as much as I wondered if I should confess what Sheila and I did in the pool. Throwing it out there, hoping that there was enough sexual fodder in our hot pillow to support me, I took a cautious first step.

"We had some touchy feely fun in the pool. We both had too much to drink," I said guarded, not sure how much to admit and covering it up with the excuse of alcohol, until I knew it'd be received well and reciprocated in kind.

"Define touchy feely," she said.

Clarification is good. Only, it could be taken negatively, as much as it could be a positive. The way she said it, cold and detached, made me reticent to continue along this treacherous path and I couldn't help but feel I was talking myself into a trap. 

Excited by what I did with Sheila and more excited by what she may have done with Ron, suddenly, unable to read her and afraid of the repercussions of confessing to Gloria that I felt up her best friend, here goes nothing. Hopefully, it will all be good. Hopefully, I won't be served with a subpoena from, yet, another divorce attorney in the morning. Hopefully, Gloria is not working with Sheila to set me up for a divorce and this admission of infidelity will culminate in some hot sex with Gloria and with our friends, I enjoyed imagining, along with even more pillow talk. At the very least, if nothing else was to happen, we're having some hot pillow talk now.

"I may have felt her tits and her ass," I said not taking another self-incriminating step forward until I read her reaction, but there was none.

"Did she feel your cock?"

A prerequisite before asking if we had sex, by asking me if Sheila felt my cock made me suspect that she did more than just feel Ron's cock. Again, she asked the question without emotion and I couldn't tell if she was angry, jealous, hurt or excited. Not knowing if these were shark infested waters, I didn't want to get in over my head, just yet, but I needed to know how far I could go from the safe harbor of our marriage without drifting too far out to sea to not be able to swim myself back in her good graces. Nonetheless, I was already in deep, nearly up to my neck, and continued wading out deeper in uncharted waters. I figured I'd trust myself to the current situation and just go with the flow.

"She may have felt my cock...I don't remember. I was drunk," I said looking at her to see how the information of feeling up her friend and with her feeling my cock was received.

"Knowing you and your need for sexual stimulation, I should think that Sheila feeling your cock would make more of a lasting memory," she said with a smug laugh. "I'm sure you've masturbated to the thoughts of what you two did in the pool already."

Meanwhile, as if she was preoccupied with what I had said I had done with Sheila, or by the thoughts of what she had done with Ron, Gloria started giving me a slow hand job again and I took that as a good sign. If she was pissed, certainly, she'd let go of my cock. If she was pissed, before letting go of my cock, she'd give my balls a good squeeze.

"I remember you and Ron being alone in the house for a long time while making drinks. Did he try anything," I asked again?

She stopped stroking me and met my question with her silent stare. With her silence already an admission of guilt, I waited for her to speak. I was excited by the thoughts of her and Ron doing something inappropriate. The thought of him touching her and she touching him, filled me with passion for her. I was excited by the thoughts of Gloria confessing in great detail exactly what they did and how she felt doing it with him.

"I can't recall. We may have had some touchy feely in the kitchen," she said with a sly smile. "I don't remember. Much like we all were, I was a bit inebriated, too, you know."

No fucking way. My imagination was running wild with my pulse and heartbeat. I was excited that she was playing the game, too. Suddenly, I imagined Ron's horny hands touching Gloria everywhere, exploring her big fake tits and feeling her firm sculptured ass, before fingering her wet pussy. Only, did this really happen or was she making it up and just telling me what I wanted to hear?

I couldn't tell. Yet, what did it matter? It was the pillow talk that I wanted to hear. It was the pillow talk that I needed to get aroused. Imagined or real, it was the pillow talk that was going to get me off and not the dirty deed. If they did have sex, the confessed experience of it would only climax into having even more pillow talk.

"Define touchy feely," I said, as unemotionally detached as she was, when asking me her questions.

I was trying to play it cool, but I was a horny wreck. It took all the control that I had not to take her that very second and show her my passion. I was so hot for her. Yet, stopping the pillow talk now would shut the door to it for good perhaps, and I needed to capitalize on this moment of weakness. I needed to know what happened. I needed her to tell me. I needed her to confess. I needed to continue with the pillow talk. I needed to not only know how far she had gone with Ron but also I needed to know how far she'd allow me to go with Sheila and how far she'd go with others.

With the quick progression of this pillow talk, the best we ever had, wild ideas took control of my passion. Suddenly, I thought about stripping her naked before tying her to the bed, blindfolding her, and turning off the lights. One by one, I'd invite a procession of my friends to do whatever they wanted to her naked body, so long as they didn't hurt her. A circle jerk of open sexuality, I imagined her blowing one, while jerking off another, and fucking a third man, with the rest watching and waiting for their turn. 

"Now that I recall, he may have felt my tits and my ass."

I couldn't help but imagine Ron pawing my wife. I had visions of him feeling her tits and her ass. I was jealous. I was angry. I was excited that Ron felt up Gloria and that she allowed him to have his way with her body.

'Until death do you part,' my wife was no longer the pure virginal bride dressed in white in Bride's Magazine, not that she ever was or needed to be with me. She was just as soiled and just as dirty as I was in our need for sexual exploration and sensual excitement. It was obvious that we had the same sexual urges that we needed to experience with others and, as long as it was okay with her, it was okay with me.

No longer her one and only, no longer faithful to me, she had sex with another man and I wanted to slap her. I wanted to call her a slut. I wanted to control her. I wanted to tear off her clothes and fuck her, only she was already naked. I wanted to have hot sex with her, while she whispered every little dirty detail of what happened between her and Ron. Besides, slapping her would only excite her and put her in the mood for more, no doubt.

She liked being slapped around, but I was too tired. Not tonight. Yet, I was never too tired for some hot pillow talk, though. The pillow talk is what excited me. The pillow talk is what I needed right now and what I wanted, especially after hearing that she and Ron had crossed the line and made a sexual connection. It made me hard to think about her with him and I was excited to know that my wife shared the same sexual desires for Ron that I had for Sheila.

"Did you feel his cock?"

"I may have...I don't remember," she said with a wry smile. "We were both very drunk."

"Knowing you and your need for sexual stimulation, I should think that you feeling Ron's cock would make more of a lasting memory. Tit for tat," I said with the return of her smug laugh.

"I dare say, that me feeling a man's cock means more to you than it does to me," she said teasing and taunting me with her words, as much as her sexy smile, she still avoided answering the question. "It's only a cock."

Ouch! Touché. Oh, she's a sly one, this one. Only, two can play this game. That's right, slow it down. The game is better when dragged out a bit, in the way she's doing it now.

I loved it when she teased me. I loved it that we were on the same page with the pillow talk. Only, the old double standard reared its ugly head. She just admitted that she cheated on me with her best friend's husband. Yeah, so what, I cheated on her with her best friend, too, but that's expected with guys. Guys are low down, dirty dogs and she's still pedestal worthy, even if she's fallen off a few times and gotten a bit dirty. I prefer dirty women to clean, self-righteous ones. Then, I wondered who else my slut wife has slept with and fucked and sucked besides Ron.

My mind was a blur with all the times she was out of my sight while I was working. Was she having someone over the house? I wondered about that time she came home late from the mall telling me that her car had a flat when her car has run flat tires, but I trusted her not to cheat on me, at least, not to cheat on me without telling me all about it.

Now, I wondered about that time she went away overnight with Sheila. She said she was going home to visit her mother. Was she really with Sheila? If she wasn't, then who was she with? Did she visit her mother? If she didn't, then where did she go? Was she lying and using Sheila to cover up that she was having an affair? Maybe she was with Sheila. Maybe she and Sheila were having an affair with one another. Damn.

Suddenly, the thoughts of Gloria licking Sheila's pussy and Sheila licking Gloria's pussy were surpassed by the three of us having a threesome. I wouldn't mind Ron joining in on the fun, too. I was barely able to handle Gloria, forget about two women. I'd have to take a Cialis and not drink that night and take a break to catch my breath, while watching the women party.

Now that I think about it, when we took a cruise last year, she was always above deck, while I gambled below. Detracted from playing my hand, I wondered where she was and what she was doing. She said she was walking the deck for the fresh air and exercise. Wearing her pearls and diamonds, who walks the deck in a ball gown?

Maybe she was with someone. Maybe she was doing one of the hired help in our cabin or in his cabin. I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on her, especially after this latest round of pillow talk. I made a note to confront her later about some of my suspicions, while hoping for more of this hot pillow talk.

With our first pool party officially over and the summer lovin' pillow talking season now officially open, I was excited to know what exactly she and Ron did, while in the house alone. Let the pillow talking games begin.

"Did you take his cock out? Did you hold it in your hand? Did you stroke him? Did you look at it? Did you give him a hand job? Did he cum? Did you blow him? Did he cum in your mouth? Did you swallow? Did he fuck you? Tell me everything."

"Hey, slow down sailor," she said sitting up in bed. "You know if we continue down this road, there's no turning back. Once we admit to our dirty deeds, we must—"

"I know," I said.

Suddenly feeling glum that our monogamous relationship would never be the same, while suspecting that it was never a monogamous relationship, especially knowing what I did on my part with my secretary and with others, I was so excited to know what she did and with whom she did it with that it didn't matter. This was the serious next step in our sexual relationship and she was right, there was no turning back once starting down this winding and bumpy sexual road filled with the potholes and the pitfalls of bringing others into our bed.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes. I'm fine with taking this pillow talk to the next step. I need to know. I can do this if you're game."

"And if I tell you anything, you can't use it against me later. Even when angry with me, you can't throw it up in my face and call me a slut." She looked at me and pointed a finger, "Because if you do, I'll never play this game again. Moreover, I won't tell you anything else ever. I'll never trust you with anything, so personal and so private again."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Swear on your mother's grave."

"I swear on your mother's grave," I said with a smile.

"Smart ass."

"I swear on my mother's grave," I said laughing.

"You first," she said with her grin of victory, again.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me what you did with Sheila and I'll tell you what I did with Ron."

"So, you admit that you did do something with Ron?"

"Paul? You're not playing the game correctly."

"I already told you what I did with Sheila," I said returning her questioning stare with a determined look. "I finally cornered her in the dark, deep end of the pool. I had been trying to get her alone for two years. I felt her tits and ass and she felt my cock. Game over. It was all very innocently and hardly worth mentioning. Now, tell me what you did with Ron."

"Hardly worth mentioning my ass," she said with a knowing smile. "I don't believe that's all you did? I know you and I know Sheila. Sheila is as proud of her body and as eager to flash her tits as I am."

"Wait, what was that about you flashing your tits? Have you flashed your tits to men?"

"I may have flashed my breasts to a few men."

"Oh, my God," I said rubbing my hands together. "This is getting good. Who? Where? When? Tell me everything, every little dirty detail about you flashing your boobs."

"Let's focus back on Sheila, and then you can ask me who may have seen my tits later." 

"So, you showed Ron your tits?"

"Paul, I mean it, if you're not going to play the game right, then I won't continue playing," she said giving me the same look that my mother used to give me when I peeped on her through the keyhole, while she changed her clothes. "Now, tell me what you did with Sheila."

"Seriously, that was it, I swear. I felt her up and she felt my cock," I said giving her my most trustworthy look. "Now, tell me what you did with Ron."

"Oh, no, not so fast, buddy boy. Just as you need hot pillow talk to get you aroused, I do, too. Did you feel her tits through her bikini top or did you take them out."

"I felt them through her bikini top, before I reach inside and fingered her nipples," I said and continued when she gave me that raised eyebrow look. "And before I took them out," I said, suddenly getting excited over thinking about feeling Sheila's magnificent but phony tits again while kissing her.

"Did you really feel them or just kind of grope them?"

"Did I really feel them? Yeah, I really felt them. Of course," I said smiling, while holding up my hands to her as if I was feeling tits. "My hands were all over those silicon babies. Your doctor is an amazing artist. I'm a fan. Suffice to say that I was just admiring his sexy artwork," I said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, you have the original Rembrandts here beside you," she said with a laugh, while pushing her big tits in my ribs. "You really don't need a reproduction." She made eye contact before asking her next question. "Did you suck them?"

"Yes," I said. "You can't just touch and not taste. It's rude."




Pillow Talk, Not Just Pillow Talk



There was a momentary pause in her pillow talk where she looked down at her breasts before looking back up at me.

"Whose tits did you like better, her tits or my tits?"

"Because of the vested interest I have in your tits," I said with a laugh. "I like your tits better, of course, baby. I love your tits," I said caressing them with my hands before leaning down and taking turns sucking her nipples. "Your tits are the eighth and ninth Wonders of the World." 

"Did she stick her hand down your bathing suit and feel your cock?"

"Stick her hand down my bathing suit to feel my cock? Of course not," I said with my best look of shock and dismay. "What kind of woman do you think your best friend is? What kind of man do you think your loyal and faithful husband is? How dare you ask me such a question? I'm offended and deeply hurt," I said trying to feign my outrage, while suppressing a laugh. "Apologize to me this instant."

"Faithful my ass," she said with a knowing look. "Why must you make me feel like an attorney interrogating a witness? Just answer the question, councilor."

"Maybe, if you asked the right question, I'd give you the correct answer," I said with a smug smile.

"Did you take out your cock?"

"Yes."

"And did the defendant feel said cock."

"She did and with great enthusiasm, while exuberantly stroking me with her right hand, I might add," I said laughing. 

"A yes or no answer is all that is required," she said with a laugh.

"Sorry, but I find it difficult to keep my sexual excitement confined to the brevity of only a one syllabic response," I said with a smile.

"Did she blow you?"

"I wish," I said with a look of dejection. 

It was a good sign that she was laughing. She was having as much fun as I was having. With this, our first pillow talking session of the season, this summer could prove to be our most exciting year.

"Oh, poor baby didn't get his cock sucked," she said with a sexy laugh. "Did you finger her pussy?"

"I tried but she swatted my hand away. That was when we stopped."

"You stopped or she stopped you."

"She splashed me with water and swam to the other side of the pool."

"Did you swim after her?"

"No, I was too drunk."

"Before she swam away," she said with a sudden look of sadness. "Did you kiss her?"

"Well, yeah, if memory serves me right, we may have kissed once or twice."

"How many times did you kiss?"

"Several," I said recoiling from her look. "A dozen," I said feeling the awkwardness of her stare. "Several dozen times, maybe."

"Did you French kiss her?"

"Is there any other kind of kiss?"

"No, I guess there isn't," she said again with the same look of sadness, "unless you're kissing a friend or a relative."

"It's your turn. Tell me," I said rubbing my hands together, as if a fly, before being wrapped up having his insides sucked out by a spider.

I couldn't wait to hear what she had to say and I hoped it was as good as what I imagined she was going to tell me.

"There's not much to tell. Ron and I did exactly what you did with Sheila."

Judging by the look on her face, she was hoping that I'd end the conversation there. No way. I know my baby doll better than that. This was just the beginning. I suspected she had done so much more with Ron than I had done with Sheila.

"Elucidate and enlighten me, please, and in great detail, if you don't mind," I said propping up my pillow and leaning on my elbow to make myself more comfortable, while facing her. "Tell me everything."

"I told you want he did," she said playing it coyly cool.

"Tell me again. Did he feel your tits?"

Returning her play, I wanted to watch her facial expressions, while she told me what she did and more importantly, what he did. I needed to know how much she enjoyed what she had happened between the two of them. Was what she did just sex or was it the beginning of a love affair with her best friend's husband?

"Yes."

"Did he reach his hand down your bikini top?"

"Yes."

"Did he finger your nipples?"

"Yes."

"Did he take out your tits?"

"Yes."

"Did he suck them?"

"Yes."

"Did you feel his cock?"

"Yes."

"Gees, I feel as if I'm playing Password," I said with a chuckle. "Being that this is called pillow talk and not pillow word, please feel free to say more than just a one word response. Did you take his cock out of his trunks or did he?"

"I did. I was curious. I wanted to know what his cock felt like in my hand."

"And what did it feel like in your hand."

"It felt divine," she said with a sexy smile.

"Is he bigger than me?"

"Hell no," she said with a laugh. "Your cock is so much bigger than his," she said fondling my cock, while stroking me to a stiffer erection.

"Good answer," I said returning her laugh and laughing at how I questioned her, as if she were a witness on the stand.

She tensed suddenly and I could tell that she was dreading something and possibly hiding something. At the very least, I could tell that she wasn't telling me everything. She had a look of remorseful guilt mixed with sexual excitement. Since she momentarily stopped stroking me and with her nipples suddenly erect, I knew that she was thinking more about Ron than about me. Only, afraid to ask her what she was hiding and what she was dreading confessing, I was excited to learn the answer at the same time. 

"Did he fuck you?"

"Paul," she looked up at me, while shaking her head in her feeble attempt to make me feel ashamed for even asking her that question. "No, he didn't."

I didn't feel shame. I felt excitement. In the way she looked away before answering my question, I knew she was lying. I knew they made love, just as I knew there was something more going on than what she was not volunteering. She wasn't as forthcoming with the information as I would have liked served up with my pillow talk. As if she was a defense attorney voicing her objection to my probing question, playing the part of the prosecuting attorney, I decided to take the long way around discovery and question the witness more delicately to hear her answers and to find the truth.

"Did you want to fuck him?"

There was a long pause before she answered my question, but I knew by her silence her answer already.

"Yes."

"Were you wet?"

"Yes. He made me terribly excited."

"Did he touch you there?"

"Yes."

"Did he finger fuck you?"

"Yes."

Her answers were mechanical, detached, and without emotion, as if she was reliving the experience she had with Ron. Her breathing had become shallow and I could tell that she was excited.

"Did you cum?"

"No."

"Did you blow him?"

Bingo! She looked up at me before quickly looking away and again, she needn't have answered the question because I already knew the answer. The guilt, like I imagined his cum, was all over her face. Red alarm bells were going off in my head, as she stroked my cock.

My wife sucked another man's cock. My wife cheated on me with her best friend's husband. Gloria sucked Ron's cock. She blew him. Oh, my God. 

I was angry that she had given him a blowjob. Maybe, more correctly, I was jealous that she gave him one and Sheila didn't blow me. Yet, excitement for what my wife had done with another man replaced my anger. She sucked his cock. Now, I was in control and I needed to know all that had happened.

"Yes," she said softly.

I imagined Ron's cock in her mouth. I imagined her stroking him and cupping his balls, while sucking him. I imagined her giving him much the same blowjob she gives me and I was jealous, but still excited. Gloria sucks a good cock. She's given me the best damn blowjobs I've ever had in my life.

"Did he cum?"

"Yes."

"Did he cum on your tits?"

"No."

"Did he cum on your face?"

"No."

Okay, so he ejaculated but not on her tits or on her face. That's interesting and further begs the question of where did he cum? Even though I already knew the answer, I needed to ask her the question. If only to prolong the pure suspense of pillow talk and to heighten my sexual excitement of her imagined response, I needed to allow her the formality of answering my question. I needed hear her say it."

"Did he cum in your mouth?"

"Yes."

"Say it. Did he cum in your mouth?"

"Yes. He came off in my mouth."

Just as I had the next question ready to ask, I knew she knew what I was going to ask her next. Again, since this is pillow talk with a husband and wife and not a polite and guarded conversation between a man and a woman, who were in bed for the first time, good taste and proper decorum were replaced by blunt and frank dialogue.

"Did you—"

"Yes, I swallowed. I swallowed his cum."

My mind was racing trying to imagine all that happened. I couldn't believe it. Shocked, surprised, hurt, but excited, I was more excited that Gloria gave Ron a blowjob than I was excited that I made out and felt up Sheila, while she stroked my cock. 

She blew him. He came in her mouth. And she swallowed. Guilty as charged. Case closed. The defendant will rise to hear her sentence of a swinging lifestyle. Oh, no, not on your life. Not ready to pass judgment, not ready to hand down my sentence, this case has just officially opened the pillow talking season and will remain open, so long as this husband and wife court desires. Next case. All rise. Here cums the judge.

The thoughts of having a foursome crossed my mind, but I was afraid to ask. Then, I thought, what if I was too interested with watching Gloria with Ron that I couldn't perform with Sheila. Then, another thought crossed my mind that made me want to vomit.

Ron was much closer to Gloria in age than I was and I feared that Ron and Gloria would fall in love. I didn't want to break up my marriage or their marriage. Certainly, I wanted to fuck Sheila and I wanted Sheila to suck my cock, but I didn't want to marry the woman. She wasn't my type, at least, not in the way that Gloria and I get along. Sheila was too opinionated and vocal. She was a woman who needed to be put in her place. She was one woman who I wouldn't mind slapping around, until she submitted to my whims and behaved. 

"Tell me everything. How did it happen? Were you on your knees? Where were you, in the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom or the bathroom? Where? Was he excited? Were you excited? Did you enjoy blowing him? What did he say? What did you say to him?"

"Okay, okay, relax. Take a breath. You're making me dizzy." She looked at me, this time with seriousness. "Don't forget your promise."

"What promise?"

"Anything I say can't be used against me when—"

"Yeah, yeah, I was just kidding. I haven't forgotten my promise. Tell me everything. I'm dying to know."

"We didn't do much talking," she said with a little laugh. "We were too busy doing other things to do much talking."

"Tell me from the beginning. How did it start?"

"He wrapped his arm around my waist as I climbed the stepstool, when I reached for something in the kitchen cabinet and pulled me to him. He continued holding me around the waist and, as I slid down his body to him, he felt my ass before cupping my tits through my bikini bra. Then, he kissed me."

"How many times did he kiss you?"

"I don't know, a lot."

"Did he French kiss you?"

"Is there any other kind of kiss?"

"I can't believe you were with him. I still can't wrap my brain around you blowing Ron, him cumming in your mouth, and you swallowing his load." I looked at her. I was so excited. "What happened next?"

"We kissed several times before he really started feeling me up. He felt my tits, while fingering my nipples through my bikini top, and felt my ass a lot."

"You do have a sweet ass," I said feeling her ass. "Were your nipples hard?"

"Yes, I was so very excited," she said looking at me to see how I was taking the information before continuing. "He was gentle and I was excited, especially when he started fingering my nipples. Then, when he lifted my bra, allowed my breasts to fall in his big hands, I was his once he started sucking my nipples."

"Did you enjoy having him suck your tits?"

"You know how much I love having my nipples sucked," she said with a sexy smile. "I thought I was going to melt, when he reached his hand down my bathing suit and started fingering my pussy, as he sucked my tits. I was so wet. I was so ready. I would have fucked him right there in the kitchen."

"What if I had walked in the kitchen with Sheila at that moment?"

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't have cared. I'd fuck him anyway, while you and Sheila watched us."

"Really," I said thinking, foursome here we cum.

"Only, he put one hand on my shoulder and another on the top of my head and pushed down. I knew what he wanted."

"Oh, my God, Gloria, this is so fucking hot," I said, while thinking how much closer we were to having a foursome and participating in the swinging lifestyle, than she imagined. "He's such a pig to want you to blow him rather than to fuck you. He thought more about his needs than he did yours. He should have taken care of you, first," I said with sincere seriousness before telling her what I needed and wanted without giving another thought to her sexual needs. "Stroke my cock. Play with me. I need to cum."

"I fell to my knees," she said laughing over me being a typical guy, over my shallow insensitivity, and over my lack of concern for her sexual needs, no doubt.

Putting herself back in the game mode, she started stroking me faster. Now, she was in control and I was putty in her hand, literally and figuratively. 

"Tell me. Tell me everything," I said breathlessly, as she stroked my cock faster.

"I pulled down his trunks, wrapped my hand around his cock, just like this," she said wrapping her hand around my cock. "I stroked him a few times before taking him in my mouth. He was already hard, Paul. He was so fucking hard and I couldn't wait to put his cock in my mouth," she said, while looking up at me and smiling. "I wish you could have seen the expression on his face. He was so very excited. He couldn't wait for me to take him in my mouth, for me to swirl my tongue around his fat prick, while I stroked him and while I sucked him."

"Show me what you did, Gloria. Show me. Pretend I'm Ron. Start from the beginning. Show me what you did and tell me everything all over again."

"I wrapped my fingers around his cock before stroking it, like this," she said as she stroked me. "Then, he put his hand on top of my head and with another hand to my shoulder, pushed me down to my knees. When I was eye level with his cock, I put his big, thick prick in my mouth, just like this, Paul," she said filling her mouth with my cock.

"Oh, yeah, baby, show me how you sucked his cock by sucking my cock. Show me how you cheated on me by blowing Ron, you slut."

"I am a slut," she said taking my cock out of her mouth to speak. "I'm your slut. I cheated on you, Paul. I was unfaithful to you. I sucked another man's cock. I sucked his cock. I sucked Ron's cock, Paul. I blew him. I blew my best friend's husband. I cheated on you, Paul, with another man. I had another man's cock in my mouth and I sucked his cock, until he shot his warm, slimy, gooey load in my mouth and I swallowed it all, before licking him dry."

"Tell me, again, Gloria, what you did when his cock was in your mouth."

"I twirled my tongue around his big prick, while I stroked and sucked him, as he felt my tits and fingered my nipples," she said looking at me with her sexy smile. "I was really blowing him, while stroking him, Paul. I loved sucking his cock. It tasted so good and it felt so good in my mouth. Then, when he was ready to cum, he put a hand to the back of my head, humped his hips in my face and fucked my mouth."

"Tell me again. Did you enjoy sucking his cock? Did you like blowing him?"

"Enjoyed it? Of course not," she said taking my cock out of her mouth to speak. "I loved sucking his cock," she said taking my cock in her mouth again and blowing me.

"Gloria, you slut, you're such a pig, a whore, but I love that about you."

"I'm not a whore, Paul," she said removing my cock from her mouth to speak. "Don't call me a whore. I don't mind you calling me a slut, but I don't like you calling me a whore."

"My apologies, I'm sorry."

"It's okay and I know you meant it as a turn on, but it's a turn off for me."

"I understand. So, tell me, would you suck Ron's cock again?"

"Would I? I did twice already," she said with her sly smile. "And yes, I'd suck it again, too, whenever I have the chance."

"Oh, my God. No way! You blew him three times? When? Where?"

I couldn't believe this wasn't the first time she had sucked his cock. All this time we could have had hot pillow talk and she didn't tell me that she had already sucked his cock twice before. All this time, I could have been fucking Sheila and having her suck my cock. Now I really felt betrayed. I felt cheated on not having the pillow talk that she could have given me with her blowing him three times already.

"When they came over and I went in the house to make us drinks, Ron always followed me inside and you always used that as your opportunity to stay out by the pool to talk and to flirt with Sheila."

"Yeah, only, I didn't do anything with Sheila, until recently, and you had already blown Ron a couple of times, by then. We'll be here all night with pillow talk," I said.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you," she said with a dirty laugh?

"Does Sheila know you blew Ron?"

"Yeah, I think so, but she's doing Greg, his lawyer."

I had to ask her. I needed to know. I took a chance and delved deeper. 

"You said before that you may have flashed your tits to some guys. Tell me, was it just Ron you blew or were there others?"

"You first," she said.

As soon as she said...me first, I knew there were others, but how many others? I was lovin' this summer pillow talk. 

Only, was she just playing my game of hot, sexy pillow talk or was she telling me the truth of what happened between her and Ron? If this was a trick to get me to confess, then I was going down in flames. With my cock in her mouth, there was no way that I couldn't confess to anything and everything. It was then that I realized that instead of using a lie detector test, we should be allowed to use sex to elicit the truth from someone. 

"I picked up a woman at a bar and she blew me. And I had sex with my secretary, but only once," I said. She looked at me with her big, blue eyes. "Okay, a couple of times." She was still staring at me, while sucking me. "Okay, okay, once a week. Now you, it's your turn. Who else did you do?"

"Wait one minute," she said removing my cock from her mouth, again. "You picked up a woman at a bar?"

"Sorry."

"If you weren't so pathetic, you'd be funny," she said.

She was mad. I could tell. More importantly, in the way she stared at me, she was disappointed in me.

"Sorry, I was a little bit drunk and a lot bit horny. It was during the time we were having problems over—"

"And what's your excuse for fucking your secretary. I can't believe you fucked your secretary, you pig. She's younger than your daughter." Only, I could tell that she wasn't going to be mad for long.

I used the one option that I had at my disposal, the all encompassing power of pillow talk. I figured she must have done a lot worse than I had by picking up a woman at the bar and fucking my secretary for her not to be livid. The fact that I wasn't already on the phone calling the jeweler at his home and buying her more diamonds told me that she had much more to confess than me.

"Now it's your turn," I said again. "Tell me who you did. Was it the pool man, the landscaper, the personal trainer, the tennis pro or the golf pro? I know it was one of them, I just don't know which one."

I had no idea which one she did, but I knew it had to be one of them. I suspected it may have been the personal trainer because he gave her a massage after her workout and he had the best chance of seeing her naked. Then, again, what if the pool man saw her tanning topless or naked even, yeah, it may have been the pool man. I didn't think it'd be the landscaper. Too multi-national, he didn't look her type.




Pillow Talk, Not Just Pillow Talk



"It wasn't one of them," she said removing my cock from her mouth and giving me her cum eating grin. I knew what she was going to say next, before she even said it. "It was all of them," she shooting me a sly, but sexy smile.

"All of them? Seriously? Are you kidding me? No fucking way. Gloria, you slut, I love it. I love you. Tell me everything."

Even though I knew she was going to say all of them, I was still shocked. Even though I imagined it, even though I had masturbated to the thoughts of her doing the landscaper, the pool man, the personal trainer, the tennis pro, and the golf pro, I couldn't believe it. First Ron and now this confession, I couldn't believe it. The jealousy that I felt with her being with others, the anger that I felt with her cheating on me with six men was quickly replaced by the excitement of wanting her to continue our pillow talk and tell me all that happened.

I wished I had been there. I wished I could have watched her with the other men. I wished I could have seen how she interacted with them before fucking and sucking them. 

"I really did do them all, all five of them and counting Ron, six, but not all together. I did the landscaper, the pool man, the physical trainer, the tennis pro, and the golf pro. I fucked and sucked five men," she said with a dirty laugh.

"I knew it. I just knew it," I said throwing up my hands. I watched her sucking my prick before asking her. "Did you fuck Ron, too?"

"Yes," removing my prick from her mouth again while continuing to stroke me. "We made love a few times."

"Where?"

"We did it in his office, in a hotel, and in his car."

"Tell me about the others, about the landscaper and the pool man from the beginning."

I was shocked. I was stunned. I was jealous. With feelings of betrayal opening up my sense of distrust and now looking at her like the cum slut that she truly was, the sexual excitement that I now felt overwhelmed every other feeling of jealousy and possessiveness. It was exceedingly exciting that Gloria already had enough pillow talk to last me the entire summer, years even.

"Well, I was out sunning naked. I fell asleep and was awakened to the landscaper and pool man standing over me. They were both naked. They were both hard. Their pricks were sticking straight out and their bodies were glistening with sweat. I was embarrassed. They had a crazed look on their faces, while staring at my naked body. They threatened to hurt me, if I didn't give them what they wanted."

"Hurt you? Hurt you how?"

"Well, you know how difficult it is to get good help. They threatened to quit if I didn't fuck and suck them."

"Yeah, I understand how that would have hurt you," I said with a smug laugh. "So did you?"

"I know how much you loved landscaped grounds and having the pool free of debris. I did it for you, Paul."

"Thank you, I think, Gloria."

"So, did you have a good time?"

"Good time? What kind of woman do you think I am? What kind of men do you think they are? It was horrible."

"I'm sorry. Please forgive me for thinking less of you. How long did they force you to, I mean, how long did it last?"

"Force me? I practically raped them. Did you see the bodies on the landscaper and the pool man? How long did it last? It's still not over. I cum, I mean, they come every Tuesday."

"And what about the personal trainer, how did that start?"

"Well, it was touchy feely. Every time I worked my lats, he worked my tits. He said he was helping me to breath by pulling up on my tits. Then, he caught me naked in the shower when he was picking up the dirty towels. After that, his hands were all over my body during his massage. He made me so hot that I fucked him in the Jacuzzi before I blew him in the sauna."

"What happened with the tennis pro? How did that start?"

"Well, I actually forgot to wear my panties one day. I couldn't believe it. I didn't notice until I started my first volley and I felt a cool breeze. Then, I thought, what the Hell? It was fun to flash him my shaved pussy. It didn't take him long to realize that I wasn't wearing a bra either. I gave new meaning to love in tennis terms."

"What about the golf pro? Surely, you didn't do the golf pro on the golf course, did you?"

"Surely, I did. I bent over to retrieve my ball from the hole and he stuck his thick seven iron in my pussy. He just unzipped, lifted my short skirt, pushed my panty aside, and fucked me. When he finished having his way with me, I cleaned his club with a nice blowjob."

"So, what's your handicap?"

"Who cares? I got laid by a hot guy and then sucked his cock. Actually, my handicap is that I must play the course from my knees."

It was only a few months after we had this hot pillow talking session that I had a stroke. Unable to talk, I was partially paralyzed. After I had my stroke, Gloria was unable to care for me. Too consumed with supervising the landscaper and the pool man, too busy exercising with her personal trainer, playing tennis with her tennis pro, and shooting golf with her golf pro, Gloria put me in a nursing home.

Dressed to kill, wearing her most sexy outfits, she faithfully comes to see me once a week to give me a few hours of pillow talk. She tells me what she's doing with her new boyfriend, the bitch. She leans down and whispers in my ear every sexually depraved thing she's done with my friends, neighbors, and strangers, the slut. If a nurse comes in, it appears that my loving wife is whispering sweet nothings and words of love and encouragement for my recovery in my ear. I hate her.

"I'll give you two some privacy," says the nurse and leaves. 

No! No! I want to scream, but I can't.

Now, alone with her is when the real torture starts. She makes me crazy with jealousy and desire, but there is nothing I can do. Because of the medication they give me, I'm not even able to get an erection and masturbate. My mind is a prisoner in my paralyzed body and to my hospital bed with the lustful thoughts that she fills my head of all the sex she has with other men. She confesses every dirty detail she's done with everyone I know and don't know.

"How's this for pillow talk, you sick fuck?"

Whore! I want to scream, but can't. Whore! Whore! Whore!

Sometimes, she brings a boyfriend with her and it's never the same one. Every time they get younger. She even dared introduced them to the staff as her son or nephew. Once, she fucked him right there on my hospital bed and another time she blew one of her lovers in front of me. If it wasn't so exciting for me to watch, it would have been too much to bear. 

"You always said you liked to watch," she'd say with a mean sneer. "Then, watch this, you controlling bastard," she'd say taking his cock in her mouth while stroking him. "How do you like watching now?" 

I couldn't bear to watch my slut wife. I'd look away, but would look back, as soon as I heard her pull down his zipper. Bittersweet, her vindictive display was painful and exciting at the same time. I watched her reach her hand in his pants and pull out his cock. She stroked him before getting down on her knees and taking him in her mouth. It would have been my wet dream come true and quite the display, but being partially paralyzed from my stroke, I was powerless to do anything. No longer able to get an erection, I couldn't even masturbate. 

The doctor said I'll be able to go home soon. Only, I'm not sure if I want to leave the security of the nursing home. Now that Gloria is free to have sex with other men, I can only imagine the display she'd put on at the house. Knowing her, she'd move my wheelchair by the pool and lock it in place. She'd force me to watch men pawing her still hot body while she has sex with them in the pool, out of the pool, and on the patio. I've grown to hate the summertime and now I even despise pillow talk.