141 comments/ 107371 views/ 54 favorites Seven Facts About Your Wife By: misterstan I met Sheila when we were both 25, and getting started on our careers. She's tech writer, and I'm a programmer. We met on a project, started dating, and within two year we were married. She's beautiful girl. Five-five, slender but shapely, wholesome and fresh-faced. She has shoulder length brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that can light up a room. She's pretty conservative. Doesn't drink much. Isn't big into parties. She's more outdoorsy; we hike and bike a lot. My mom fell in love with her immediately, and they are constantly chattering away together. Sheila is also a great lover. She's passionate and giving. She's enjoys sex, which is always a major turn on, and she knows what she likes. It isn't latex and ceiling swings kind of sex, but we're creative about positions, sometimes fool around in the shower and that kind of stuff. Point is, she's a "nice" girl without being a prude. The kind of girl you want to marry. I guess I'd always assumed she'd always been like that, but then I learned otherwise. My education started when we went to her tenth high school reunion. She'd been a popular kid, so we were immediately swept up in a vortex of shrieked greetings, hugs, and hurried updates on life before moving on the next group of friends. I mostly stayed off to the side, getting occasionally introduced, but otherwise content to just watch the scene. As we all got more lubricated with booze, more and more guys were coming up to me, offering congratulations often with a wink, and trying to get a little more information about Sheila. Then one guy, Dave, came up to me, clapped me on the shoulder, and exclaimed, "Well, damn man, I just need to meet the guy who could tame that little wildcat," he said nodding toward Sheila. He gave me a crushing handshake and started asking me all about myself. What I did, where I went to school, how I met Sheila, and so on. But even as I answered, it was obvious he wasn't paying attention to me, just looking past me toward my wife with a wistful look in his eyes. It took me a second to process that he was a former boyfriend, and obviously one who still thought about Sheila on a regular basis. Well, I managed to extricate myself from him, but that realization gave me a new perspective on the room. And then I saw it, Sheila in the middle of a clutch of what must have been the popular girls, many of them still attractive, still the center of attention, and being watched by most of the men in the room, many of them now overweight and balding, and being held on to firmly by their thick legged wives and girlfriends who eyed Sheila and her friends with barely disguised jealousy and hostility. It all made me wonder. Sheila had always been a popular girl. Had she also been a mean girl? Fact #1: If your wife is attractive, she was probably one of the popular kids in school, and unless you were a jock or had a nice car, she probably wouldn't have given you the time of day. But aside from the whole social hierarchy issue, the comment that stuck in my mind was "wildcat." As I've mentioned, I don't think I would use that term to describe Sheila, but that was Dave's description. I didn't make much of it until a few weeks later. We were at a party with some friends, just chilling, grilling steaks and drinking beers. Three couples: Me and Sheila, Tammy and Johann, and Jill and Rich. Jill suggest we play a game, which elicited the predictable groans from the guys, and encouragement from the girls. But before anyone could produce a Pictionary set, Johann chimed in that he'd only play if it was a drinking game. Rich and I agreed and suggested beer pong. But Tammy, whose house it was, objected, saying it would make a mess and suggested "I've Never" instead. I haven't played "I've Never" in years, not since high school, when the game always broke up in embarrassed shrieks and giggles the minute someone said something sexual, which was almost always right away. Yeah, we were nerds. Anyway, we played for a while, starting off really tame -- "I've Never sky dived," "I've Never fallen asleep in public," stuff like that. Some of the challenges were clever and led to some really good stories, like when Rich offered, "I've Never touched a dog's penis," which forced Jill to drink and then offer up a hilarious story of her days as a volunteer at a dog shelter when one of the pooches had managed to get himself attached to a dog toy he was apparently humping. After a little while, the questions turned sexual, and wow, it was an eyeopener. Sheila and Tammy were old friends, and knew a lot of each other's past. At one point, Tammy offered, "I've Never made a sex tape." Jill and Rich looked at each other, giggled, and drank up. Apparently they'd done at least one together. Sheila eyed Tammy and mouthed, "you bitch," before drinking up. Then Tammy smiled and started to drink herself, but stopped just before the glass touched her lips, joining me and Johann in the negative category. Sheila next took aim at Tammy, "I've Never cheated on my boyfriend with his best friend." The question left the guys of the equation. Jill ostentatiously shoved her glass away from her, leaving Tammy to drink alone. Johann shot her a hurt look, but she quickly comforted him, "that was a long time ago." That question obviously generated some tension, so the next few questions went back to being relatively innoccuous. And then it was Tammy's turn. "I've Never had a threesome." Rich and Jill looked at each other, faked a drink, and then shook their heads. Johann watched Tammy with a worried look on his face, but she didn't even reach for her cup. Then out of the corner of my eye saw Sheila take a quick drink. Everyone started laughing and pressing her for details. But she just deflected as had Tammy with a "that was a long time ago." At this point, I would have been happy for the game to end, but Rich jumped in, "I've never had a threesome that included a member of the same sex." Everyone looked at Sheila. She was the only one in the game. She drank. Jill then jumped in, "I've never had threesome with two members of the opposite sex." Sheila drank again. Good grief, I thought, MMF and MFF threesomes in her life. Who was this girl? Again, she deflected all questions with a "that was a long time ago" response. The game broke after that, obviously it had gone on too long as it was. Sheila and I drove home in silence. I was confused, surprised. She was obviously embarrassed and worried about my reaction. But there was no way to pretend it hadn't happened. When we got home, I said simply, "I think we need to talk." She looked at me miserably, "Do you really want to do this?" "I love you honey," I replied. "Nothing you can say will change that, but, well I think we need to clear the air. We never really did have 'the talk' about our pasts." "Okay," she said, "but this is mutual, right? And I'm not on trial. We're just sharing information. No judgments, no recriminations." "Exactly," I replied, "do you want me to go first?" She nodded. I poured us a couple of glasses of wine and started. Not that there was that much to tell. I was a late bloomer. No luck in high school. Started getting laid in college. The first time actually during orientation week with a cute sophomore, which raised expectations that didn't quite pan out. Had lots of half-assed hook-ups, most of which fell apart after some making out and fingering. But even still, my number was 3 at the end of Freshman year. Sophomore year was a brutal drought, except for a hook-up that turned into a weeklong fling right before Christmas. I had a serious girlfriend all through Junior year, but she met another guy during Summer break and we broke up but still had a friends-with-benefits relationship part of Senior year. Senior year featured a few hook-ups, but nothing serious. At the end of college, my number was 8. When I started working, meeting girls was even harder. Programming is a sausage festival. But still met a couple of girls, had a short-lived relationship with a bartender, and then met Sheila, stopping the clock. My total number was 11, but that was counting BJs. other than that, my most exciting or weird sexual experience, was when my bartender girlfriend dragged me into the bar's bathroom during a lull and had me eat her out on the sink. When I concluded, Sheila looked at me, as if to say, "is that all?" And then with a grimace, she added, "I don't think this is a good idea." "You can't back out now," I snapped. "Look, it's all water under the bridge, but I need to know." "Really? Do you really want to know? Or do you just want me to give you a convenient lie, like most girls do." "Most girls? "Well, you know the old adage, right? Any number a guy gives you divide by two, any number a girl gives you, multiply by three." "Well, yeah, but I mean, that's just something people say, right?" She sighed and shook her head. "Okay, here goes, but I'm not going to lie to you. This is all in the past, but it happened." She paused took a big gulp of wine, topped off her glass, and began. "First of all, my number is close to 100." I gasped. "And believe it or not, I'm actually a good girl." Fact #2. If your wife is attractive and actually enjoys sex, she's been having it regularly and often and her number is much higher than you probably imagine. "I was sexually active for almost ten years before I met you. That's ten partners per year on average. Or less than one a month. It adds up faster than you might think, although, in reality a lot of it happened in bursts. I guarantee you than virtually any woman you meet nowadays who is still single in her mid-twenties is up around that number, unless she's Amish... then maybe it's higher," she joked. I laughed uneasily, and she continued. "I'd been with maybe a dozen guys by the end of high school, though a bunch of those were actually the summer after graduation. I was cute, a cheerleader. Guys were constantly asking me out. Believe me, I said no a lot more than I said yes. A lot more. My only regret is that I hooked up with my math teacher senior year. He was married. We fooled around in his car in the mall parking lot. In retrospect, not my proudest moment." I jumped in, "So wait, is that dozen for sex, or does that include making out or blowjobs?" "Sex. But I've never been one to just give our hummers without sex. I mean, I've done that maybe a dozen times in my life, but you know, what's in it for me?" I nodded, it made sense. Although it was a bit of a shock to realize that my wife had given out more casual blowjobs that she didn't even count toward her number than I'd even had sexual partners. She paused, "Are you sure you want me to continue?" I nodded, "Yes, I think it's good to get this out there." "Okay," she replied skeptically. "Well, college was a little crazy. Away from home, tons of guys, tons of booze, everyone hooking up left and right. No one judging you. I hooked up with three guys orientation week. Seniors who were helping us 'move in,' but were really just there to get first crack at the new freshman. But they were good looking, fun, much more confident than high school guys." "I started going to frat parties, and it was almost expected you'd hook up. That's when I had my first threesome. Was making out with this guy when his roommate walks in and turns on the TV. But the guy I was with didn't even seem to notice. He sorta made me feel like a prude for being uncomfortable. Well, I didn't want him to think I was immature or something, so we kept making out. He got my clothes off, and pulled me into his lap and we started having sex. I had my eyes closed, but when I looked up, I realized his roommate had taken off his clothes and was now standing right next to us jerking himself off." "'You're so hot, baby,' he moaned at me. And the guy I was with took my hand and put it on his roommate's cock. 'Help him out,' he suggested. I dunno, it just seemed natural, so I started jerking him off, and then he pulled my head toward his cock and I started blowing him. And then when the guy I was fucking finished, the roommate just pulled me into his lap and entered me. It was actually really hot, the two of them taking turns with me most of the night." I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. I took a deep breath, "Well, at least the threesome story is out of way." "Story?" she replied. "More like stories." "You did this more than once?" "Well, yeah, I mean I did mention it was fun right, so why not? I didn't have a boyfriend. I wasn't cheating on anyone. We were just having a good time." "But always with the same guys?" "Well, no. I mean, yes, I did hook up with them again a few times, but no, it was with other guys too." She paused. "And well, more than two guys sometimes." I groaned. "What, some sort of gangbang?" "Yeah, I guess, if you want to call it that. There were a couple of times where I was 'that girl,' the one who stays too late at the frat party and ends up in a room alone with five or six guys. It is sort of funny actually. You'd think the girl in that scenario would be the prey, but the guys are all sort of nervous performing in front of a crowd. They all know each other and know you, so it isn't like some anonymous mob. The guys are constantly busting on each other about appearance and technique. Again it isn't the sort of thing I'd do today, and I doubt I would encourage my daughter to do it, but back then, it was definitely a good time." Fact #3. Most women also fantasize about group sex, but unlike men, if they want they can get it. Your wife probably has. "And look," she continued, "I know Tammy and Jill didn't drink when the question came up, but they're full of shit. At least Tammy is. She doesn't think it counts as a threesome unless both guys are in you at the same time. I know for a fact she's had two guys back to back. I'm just saying, girls have a lot of ways of lying about their past." "Some girls don't count blowjobs. A lot of girls don't count 'mistakes.' So if you regret it later on, it didn't happen. I had one friend who insisted hook-ups didn't count. A guy would only get added to her life list if they went out on a date later. Cut her number down by 90%. But it didn't seem worth getting into the debate about sloppy seconds versus a threesome with Tammy. Little bitch. By her definition, you can't even have group sex because after three guys you run out of place to put a cock." "Three?" I replied. "Wait. So, you've done anal?" Sheila sighed again. "Look, when did you start watching porn? 13? 14?" I nodded. "Yeah me too. Girls watch porn too. That is how we learn about sex. Listen, in college the debate was about whether you ought to spit or swallow. It never occurred to any of us that we didn't have to let a guy come in our mouths or on our faces. One of my roommates had a guy come on her face. It got into her eye, which is common and hurts like a bitch, and anyway, she got an infection. She decided she wasn't going to let guys come on her face, and it was like a revelation. 'You mean we can do that?'" Fact #4: Your wife has had porn sex. She's been sodomized and facialed. She's probably not doing with you, but that doesn't mean she hasn't done it. Back in high school, it wasn't a big issue. But in college, the guys are so much more confident. They knew what they wanted, and what they wanted was what they had seen in porn. Facials, anal, the works. And we didn't know better. Seriously, back in college, the line was whether you'd do ass to mouth, not anal in the first place. Everyone did anal." "Did you?" I asked, shaken. "Ass to mouth? Yeah, but not often. It always seemed a bit dicey to me. One guy, though, well, he was huge. I mean, porn star huge, nine inches. He made me measure. Taking him in my ass felt like he was going to tear me open. So, I was always trying cut that short by taking him in my mouth." I groaned. "I meant anal. I mean, why don't we ever do that?" "Duh. It fucking hurts. Have you ever had something the size of a cock in your ass?" "No," I replied quickly. "Yeah, I figured. Funny how guys are always eager to shove their dicks in your ass but start whining like a baby when you even put a pinky in theirs. Anyway, look, if you really want to do it, I'm willing. But it's uncomfortable, and I don't really like it, and well, I hope you don't ask me to." I took a moment to digest that. "Well, why did you do it before?" She shook her head. "I don't know. I mean, it was never my favorite thing. But it was just something you did back then. Like pounding Jager shots. Or snorting Adderall. It isn't peer pressure. That makes it seem like coercion. It is just about fitting in, I guess. Not knowing any better. Plus there is some shit you can do when you're 19 and the worst that can happen is that you'll sleep through class rather than getting fired." I decided to press the issue, "But this one guy, he was definitely hurting you, right?" She nodded. "But you kept letting him, um, you know..." "Put it in my butt? Yeah," she replied. "Look, I'm not proud of this, but I did a lot of things with Billy that I wouldn't usually do. There are some things a girl will do for a nine-inch cock that they won't do normally. " "I thought size didn't matter," I muttered. She just rolled her eyes. Fact #5. Size does matter, and you're probably not her biggest. "Guys don't understand that at all. It isn't that size doesn't matter. There is *nothing* like a big cock," she enthused. "But you don't need a big one to have a good time. Sex is fun. Sex is fun with a small cock -- if the guy knows what he is doing. Sex is fun with a medium cock. Size doesn't matter in that sense. We can enjoy ourselves with men of all sizes, but look, a big one is like a nice rack on girl. It just adds to the experience, right? And just like men get all stupid when confronted with a little cleavage, girls get weak kneed over a nice cock. It's how we're hardwired." "Billy was a good looking guy, super confident, fun to be with, and hung like a horse. It was just hard to say no to him. And well, I rarely did." I needed to change the topic. "You've also had threesomes with other girls?" She giggled. "Well, blame Billy again. At least for my first time. I walked in on him banging this other girl. Threw a fucking fit. But he just grabbed my hand and put it on his cock. He leaned in close, 'join in baby, it'll be a blast.' And well, I did. Seriously, the things we'll do for a big cock is crazy. Before I knew it, I was kissing this other girl, and we were both going down on him. We spent the next 48 hours in his room, ordering takeout, and fucking and sucking non-stop." "But look, that's another part of the culture. Girls, I guess, are sort of expected to experiment with other girls. It takes a conscious decision not to do it, at least it did in college. I mean, girls get drunk, we kiss at bars to get attention, and then well, guys find it easy to talk us into threesomes and more." I was agog, "What, more than three girls and one guy?" She giggled, "No silly, one guy has enough trouble taking care of two girls. I'm talking, I guess, for lack of a better word, orgies. You get three or four couples, drunk, some music playing, and well, shit just happens. Fun, stupid, wouldn't do it anymore, but yeah, fun at the time." "You had quite the college experience," I noted. "Seriously baby, I don't want to make you feel bad, but this was pretty common. I get that it wasn't common for guys. In a way, it sucks to be a guy, especially if you're still finding yourself in your early 20s. But unless you're a fatty or a religious nut, college is an endless sexual experiment for girls. And look, I wasn't even one of the crazy girl." Seven Facts About Your Wife I let out a snort. "Okaay... you can think I'm a raging slut if you want. Whatever. But look, I didn't even go to a party school. Remember that little blonde, Jenny, from the reunion? She went to Florida State. One spring break, she goes down to Cancun with her sorority sisters and they decided to have a competition to see who can have the most sex. She bangs 15 guys in 6 days. And she came in third! Another friend, Laurie, she wasn't at the reunion. She's married, has three kids now, chair of her local PTA. She went to Colorado. Hated her roommate, and ended up moving into a frat. Deal was, she couldn't sleep in the same room twice, so basically, she fucked her way through the whole frat three times until she could find a new place to live. Ally was my freshman year roommate. She took a semester off to be a groupie. Followed Third Eye Blind of all bands around the country screwing the band and roadies the whole time. Even Tammy, that little cunt, she had this thing for black guys. Seriously, she fucked every African-American at Tulane, or close to it." "Okay, okay, I get it. College is a time to let loose." "You asked for the talk. It wasn't my idea." "I know, I know. I guess, well, I guess it just never occurred to me that your experience could be so different than mine. We seem, so, I don't know, compatible." "And we are baby," she said reassuringly. "But look, you need to realize that men and women have different sexual opportunities." "Well back in college, I guess." "No, no. Even now. I was reading this article in the New York Times about pick-up artists. Funny piece, even though I realize now I fell for their shit a bunch of times. But the point is, they consider success getting a phone number. They are looking for sex within seven hours of meeting a girl, which makes a lot of guys super jealous. But you need to realize, any decent looking woman can get sex within seven minutes with almost any man she meets. The average woman who is at all put together has the same sexual horizon as a rock star." Fact #6: If you're wife is attractive, she is constantly being approached, and she knows she can have any man in the room. The temptation is as hard for her to resist as it is for a male celebrity. "That's one thing guys never realize," she continued. "I am continuously being hit on. At work. In the grocery store. In the gym. At parties. When you go to the bathroom at the restaurant, there is a better than even chance that a guy will approach me or at least start giving me winks and nods. And all I would need to do is smile and nod in return and we could be in the bathroom banging in minutes. Young guys, old guys, hot guys, fat guys, they all do it. And while most are super easy to turn down, every single day there is at least one guy, who is hot enough, confident enough, and interesting enough to make it tempting. We girls deal with more temptation in a day than most guys will in a year. And look, I know guys find me cute, but I'm hardly a supermodel. I rarely show off cleavage. I don't flirt. But I'm slim and most importantly, I think, I have a vagina, and that is enough for most guys." "That's very cynical," I noted. I was reeling now. "Guys aren't all like that." "I didn't say they were. But frankly, it is hard to tell the two apart at first. Which is why girls like me hold on so tight when we find a good guy like you." I kissed her forehead. "Thank honey, and yeah, college was a long time ago, I guess." "Yeah," she replied. "But..." she paused. "I mean, it isn't like I was a virgin between college and meeting you. I was only at maybe 75 at the end of college, and well, in the three years after I was still dating and fooling around." "Oh," I grunted. "I mean, yeah, it was different. Less crazy. Part of it is just growing up, realizing you deserve better. I mean, I haven't had anal since college. But you know, work is stressful and sometimes you just wanna let loose, and I did have a bunch of one-night stands. And, well, breaking into the workforce is a bitch. I did a bunch of unpaid internships before I realized that the most direct path into a full-time job was sleeping your way to the bottom." "You had sex with your boss?" "Um, yeah, my first two bosses, actually. They were young guys and cute. It wasn't like we had a deal, but obviously it helped." I swallowed hard. "Didn't you feel like a prostitute?" Fact #7. Your wife has probably whored herself out to get what she wants. She laughed. "Oh please. I don't know ANY girl who hasn't traded sex for favors, implicitly or explicitly. Do you have any idea how many blowjobs have been traded for concert tickets, backstage passes, and jobs? One of my friends used to carpool home during college breaks, but she didn't want to pay gas money, so she just blew the driver. I have a friend, married, I won't tell you her name, but just last month she fucked the guy at the airport to get onto a standby flight so she could be home in time to put her kids to bed. Almost every girl who experimented with drugs in college, which is most of em, have traded sex for drugs." I must have looked sad because Sheila paused and sighed. "Oh, I knew this was a bad idea. Fuck. I didn't want to hurt you." I took her hand. "No, no, it's not that. Well, yeah, I am a little shocked I guess. But I'm not a child. I knew you weren't a virgin when we met, and realistically, there isn't much difference between fucking ten guys a hundred times or a hundred guys ten times. It is just, well, I feel like I missed out on something with you." "I can see that," she replied. "And look, I know I was definitely something of a party back then. Hell, even if I didn't recognize it myself, the messages I still get on Facebook from old flings offering hook-ups would be pretty convincing." Bonus Fact: Your wife's old lovers still message her and try to talk their way back into her pants. "But, frankly, I doubt you'd have liked me back then. Whatever fun I was had to be offset by the fact that I could be an insecure, moody bitch. You'll just need to trust me on that." I just nodded. It had been a long night in a way. We each changed into our night clothes. Sex was not an option by mutual tacit consent. But we snuggled together in bed, in silence. Each of us lost in thought. I'd learned a lot about my wife that night, but it was all in the past. She was a different girl, now. The kind of girl you marry. I think.