by Sean Geist
Robin now sat on the edge of the bed. Scott stood in front of her, his crotch in her face. The only thing that stood between her lips and his engorged cock was the thin black fabric of his boxer briefs. She hooked her fingers into the waistband and pulled them down. His cock sprang out, almost slapping her in the face. She giggled and licked up the shaft.
"Tasty," she said. She lapped up a bead of pre-cum that was forming on his tip.
I watched as she rolled the condom on.
Even though I had already seen them fucking, I still couldn't believe what I was witnessing, and how hard it was making me.
Robin laid back, her knees in the air, her feet flat on the bed. Scott leaned into her and my wife eagerly guided his cock to its destination. He slid in with ease and began thrusting, slowly at first. I noticed the tiger on his back again, but unlike yesterday when it seemed fierce, today it just looked erotic as hell.
"Oh, that's nice," my wife said.
"You feel so good, Robin," Scott replied, picking up his pace.
Robin looked over at me. "I haven't forgotten you, love," she said. "Take off your clothes." The command surprised me. I wasn't planning on taking part, but I did what I was told. I quickly removed my clothes. I stood watching in only my briefs, my erection restrained against the fabric.
"Take those off, too."
I complied. My penis stood straight out. I felt a little embarrassed, but Scott wasn't paying any attention to me, and my wife was just licking her lips.
"Now, come here and kiss me."
I got on the bed and gave her a deep kiss, our tongues intertwined. I sensed a bit of salt.
"You can taste him," she said with a grin.
"Yes," I whispered in her ear. I kissed her again.
Robin gently pushed Scott away. "Peter, get behind me," she said.
I got on the bed. Robin nestled herself against me, her back against my chest, my legs on either side, my cock pressed between our bodies.
"Scott, you come here and get back inside me." My wife was directing her own porno shoot. Her lover repositioned his sheathed cock against her inflamed opening and resumed his thrusting. He leaned over and began kissing Robin as he fucked her. The intimacy was so intense and erotic.
I decided to ad-lib and reached between the lovers and grabbed Robin's breasts. "Oh, this is so good," she said. I roughly kneaded. Scott increased his pace, each thrust pushing my wife against me.
"Oh, god, I'm close," he said.
"I'm there," Robin said, as she let out a scream of passion. A scream the likes of which I had never heard come from her lips. She was experiencing sex like she never had before.
Scott's thrusting increased, rocking Robin's body back and forth. My cock was caught between us and the friction was driving me crazy. It was almost as if Scott was fucking the both of us.
Scott gave a final hard push and came with a loud guttural roar.
Then, unexpectedly, I came myself. I felt my cock pulsing, shooting my seed onto Robin's back.
"Shit," Robin said with a shock and she came again.
We collapsed in a heap on the bed, all three of us spent.
***
Scott got up first. "Mind if I take a shower?"
We laughed at the question and told him where the towels were. After sharing your wife with a man, it's only proper to offer him a shower.
Robin and I cuddled while Scott cleaned up. "We okay?" she asked.
"Ab-so-fucking-lutely," I said. "I wasn't expecting you to ask me to join in."
"I didn't plan it. It just felt right."
“I'm glad you did."
"I really do love you, Peter. You're so wonderful and I couldn't ask for a better husband."
"Happy Anniversary," I said.
"Happy Anniversary," she replied.
***
I took a shower next. When I came out I found Scott and Robin standing at the open door to our room. She had put on her panties and gauzy top. Her bare breasts were clearly visible to anyone who might pass by in the hall. They were saying goodbye.
"See ya later?" Scott asked, more hopeful than he looked.
"Maybe," Robin replied.
They exchanged a kiss and Scott left.
I was going to ask her about the 'See ya later' remark when Robin interrupted me.
"My turn," she said as she jumped into the shower.
***
She's not lying if she doesn't say anything.
The warm water feels so good. The guilt she felt before, washed away by Peter's blessing.
Sweet, sweet, Peter, her love and soul-mate. She thinks about her husband as she soaps up her small but sensitive breasts. Despite her recent fucking, she is still aroused.
She believes she will never leave Peter as long as he still wants her.
But Scott, rough and randy Scott, her lover and maybe more.
Both her hands glide down her taut stomach and come to rest on her mound. Slick fingers spread her pussy lips and explore the folds. She gently strokes her clit to the rhythm of some internal orchestra. She plays her body like a fine tuned instrument, her music is sexual pleasure.
It's Scott she thinks about when her orgasm hits its crescendo.
She loves Peter, with all her heart, but, she desires Scott.
The guilt returns.
Chapter 9
I threw on a pair of blue jeans and a pink polo shirt while Robin was in the bathroom cleaning up. I would have offered to help clean off the cum I left on her back, but she ran in the bathroom and closed the door before I could. She's usually not that private when showering, but when she closes the door, I know I need to just leave her alone. I'm sure she was taking the time to process what just happened, something I also had to do.
Did I really just watch another man have sex with my wife? Yes, I did. In fact I even helped.
From a young age men are taught the key to life is getting a good job, marrying a good woman and having kids. I had two of three. Our future plans did not include kids, neither of us really wanted them, and Robin had learned earlier in life that pregnancy could be dangerous for her. We were content with being a couple.
Now, if you ask most men, they'll deny seeing women as possessions. The majority of them are lying to you. Hell, just look at the standard American wedding ceremony. A father walking his daughter down the aisle, then giving her away to her future husband. How can you give away something that is not yours?
Men are allowed to be sexual beings, and there are certain accepted ways they are permitted to indulge their urges. Men are allowed to have mistresses, they can visit prostitutes.
Women are expected to make babies, male babies preferably.
In lots of cultures around the world women must dress modestly, if they aren't covered up completely. If a man is tempted, then it's the woman's fault. The difference between a being and an object.
Well, all I can say to that is bullshit. Women are sexual beings and they don't get their worth from how many male heirs they can produce.
My wife is my companion and best friend, but most of all she is a person just like me. It took me a while to wake up to that fact. It took her acting on her own sexual desires without me to realize it.
I love her. I enjoy making love with her. I also enjoyed sharing her coupling with Scott.
I felt like I almost lost her this week. I let my selfishness and anger control me. There are plenty of odd and scary and unusual experiences to be had in this life. I used to be afraid of the unknown, but not anymore.
When I was talking with Dr. Cho at the bar, she made a reference to a quote from the writer Anis Nin. She wrote, 'It is a sign of great inner insecurity to be hostile to the unfamiliar.' I didn't understand at first, but I think now I do.
I want to strive to not allow my own doubts to keep me from exploring the unknown. I want to experience more of this world. And I want to do it with Robin. In order to do that, I must accept she is also a person with her own inner desires. I can live with that.
>
Robin came out of the bathroom wearing something just a little more appropriate for going out in public, just a little. She had on a pair of brown cargo shorts that went halfway down her thigh. She wore the same transparent top but with an orange tank top underneath. From the way I could see her nipples it was obvious she had skipped the bra. On her feet she had a pair of white and black running shoes with white ankle socks.
"I think I want to get my nose pierced," she said with a smile.
I just looked at her. "I hope you're not trying to shock me," I said, "because it won't work."
We had dinner at a nearby Korean BBQ place. I really didn't know what to expect. How different could it be from Chinese?
The place was packed, mostly with groups of four to six Asian men in business suits. I had always believed any ethnic restaurant that was popular with its native people had to be good. I don't know if that's always true, but it was this time.
My first surprise came when I took a sip of water the waitress brought us. It had a mild flavor to it; I later found out it was barley. When our food came it wasn't anything like Chinese, or American Chinese at least. The entree of grilled marinated beef was served with a variety of pickled vegetables. I recognized cabbage and cucumber. I think one was sweet radish. The rest were a mystery. I tried a little of everything. Most, I liked, or at least could stomach. A couple made me want to throw up.
After dinner we went across the Strip to the Monte Carlo Casino. We gambled there for a few hours. I lost about $300 playing craps. Robin hit a small jackpot playing slots and won $750.
Overall, we had a great evening out. It was a wonderful way to celebrate our love and our life together. We bought a bottle of cheap champagne at an ABC store and headed back to our room.
"A toast," I announced," to three wonderful years with a wonderful woman.” Tiny bubbles raced up the sides of the plastic cups we had to use since we didn't have any nice crystal flutes.
"And many more," Robin added.
We made love. It was mostly slow and tender and sweet. At one point it got a little silly when I poured bubbly on Robin's stomach and licked it out of her belly button.
After our lovemaking, we cuddled. I lay on my side with Robin's arms wrapped around me, her breasts pressed against my back. "I think this is a milestone for you," she said. I wasn't sure what she meant.
"Haven't you climaxed like five times in the last day?"
Then it hit me. "You remembered?" I asked with a laugh.
"Oh, hell yeah. I've been trying to help you break it ever since. I didn't know we needed outside help." She giggled.
"So has it been a record for you?"
"Honestly... damn! I said it again."
"Don't worry," I said. I couldn't help laughing. The champagne and the emotions of the moment just overwhelmed me. "Well, has it?"
"No, it's not a record."
"Really? So spill."
"I know you're looking for something tawdry, but it's not."
"I don't care. Let's just call it exploring our sexual past. So what's your record for most times cumming in a 24-hour period?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why."
"Cause I don't really know. I didn't count."
"What?"
"I don't remember the exact day. It was during the summer between my junior and senior year in high school. My parents were away and all my friends were off on family vacations. I was all alone. All I did that weekend was eat and sleep and play with myself. I really explored my limits. My pussy hurt for a month. I don't think I came again until I lost my virginity."
I knew that story.
Robin got up to go to the bathroom and clean the sticky mess off her stomach. I stayed in bed.
When she came back, she was wearing her bra and panties.
"What's up?" I asked. "Going somewhere?" It was 9:30.
Robin looked at me, her eyes searching, her mind looking for the words.
"Can I ask you something, Peter?"
She called me by my name. This couldn't be good. "Of course you can," I said.
"Promise you won't get mad."
"I promise."
"Swear?"
"I swear, now ask the goddamn question. You're worrying me."
"Would you mind if I spent the night with Scott?"
My heart skipped a beat and I began coughing uncontrollably. Robin quickly got me a glass of water and I took a sip.
"I wasn't expecting that," I said.
"Are you mad?"
"No." A half-truth, not mad but disappointed.
"It's probably the last time I'll get to see him," she said. She moved her hand in an attempt to play with a strand of hair that was no longer there.
"Whose idea was it?" I asked.
"Does it really matter," she asked.
Yes, I thought, it matters a lot. "Not really," I lied. I felt horrible not telling her the truth, but we were at a fragile point and I didn't want to add any more pressure. "But I'd like to know."
"Mine," she said, her eyes cast down.
"Robin, look at me." She raised her head. "Please don't ever be afraid to tell me or ask me anything." I tried to explain how I felt. How I wanted her to be free to be her own person.
"It won't always be easy, and I can't say I'll always like the things you do or say. But I swear I will always support you in whatever you do."
Robin wiped a tear from her eye. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" she said bending over to give me a kiss on the forehead.
"You did nothing. That's the point."
She jumped on the bed and we started making out like teenagers. Wet kisses, hands groping body parts. After a while she called a stop to it.
"Ok, that was fun but it's getting late and I have to be going."
Robin finished dressing, nothing fancy; just a simple yellow and white sundress. She wore a scarf to ward off the chill of the desert night.
When she was ready to go she asked me one last time, "Are you sure you're ok with this?"
My heart was broken, rent in two watching her get ready to go and meet her lover. But I saw she was happy and that made me happy.
Robin was being honest about her desires, and I knew if I didn't allow her to go, she would resent me. Not right away and not openly, but deep down she would feel like she missed something.
"Go,” I said. “Have fun. And know I love you more than I can say. Just remember we have a 5pm flight tomorrow."
"Don't be a smartass, I'll be back with breakfast. I love you Peter Wilkenson, and I'm proud to call you my husband."
"Happy Anniversary, love," I said.
"Happy Anniversary."
###
She stands at the door to his hotel room. She hesitates before knocking. She shivers and pulls her wrap tight around her shoulders, but it's not the temperature that brings the chill, apprehension, perhaps. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the future.
She feels horrible for leaving Peter alone in the room, but she thrills at spending one last night lost in desire.
She resolves to make it up to him, later, back in Phoenix. Her husband deserves so much better than this.
But still, she knocks.
Epilogue
I woke up to the sounds of a woman crying in the sitting room. There were no lights save for the neon glow coming from the open windows. The reds, and blues and greens danced and flittered like faeries around the room.
“Robin,” I called out, “is that you?” I knew it was.
No answer came, only sobs.
I got up and entered the room. My wife was sitting on the sofa, her head buried in her hands.
“What's wrong, honey?” I asked. I wondered to myself if Scott had hurt her, somehow. The shadows cast by the exterior lights don't help me spot any bruises. Robin looked up at me. There were no marks on her face.
“I shouldn't have gone over there tonight,” she said, her voice barely audible.
I asked the question. “Did he hurt you?”
; “Not really.”
Not really? What kind of an answer was that?
“He's put me in a difficult situation,” she said as if she could read my mind.
I really didn't understand what was going on. I sat down next to my wife and put my arm around her shoulder.
“Start at the beginning,” I said. “What did you guys do tonight?”
Robin told me they meant to have drinks at the pub, maybe gamble a bit. Instead they spent all their time up in his room making love.
Oh, what a phrase; making love. Not something you want to hear your spouse say they did with someone else. Fuck, screw, boink, all that can be written off as just an act. Making love involves emotions. And that can get messy.
Still, I've come to accept some things, and so I accepted this. It was the revelations that followed that I wasn't prepared for.
“After we finished, he offered me my own spa.”
Deep down I had hoped to put Scott behind us. That wouldn't happen if Robin managed one of his businesses. He did say he only stopped by once or twice a year to check on things. I was sure he'd be making more trips than that to Phoenix.
I tried to take the situation in stride. It was hard, but this wasn't about me.
“So, where's the location? Downtown? Out by Fashion Square Mall in Scottsdale? How bout the Biltmore? Lots of idle money out there.” I could have gone on.
“No, Peter. Stop.” She took my face in her hands and looked me straight in the eyes. “It's his Sedona location.”
Fuck me, I thought. Sedona was more than a two-hour drive from where we lived. She couldn't commute that. I was afraid to ask the next question.
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I'd think about it and get back to him.” She didn't mention talking to me. And now this WAS about me.
Robin was taking this independent woman idea to the limit. The fact that she didn't seem to be interested in my input hurt. It hurt like a motherfucker.
