I was terrified, of course. I spent so much time with Mark after he first told me of the breakdown in his marriage — he needed the support — that it couldn’t help but lead me to the awful fear that my wife might suddenly decide to leave me, to move in with her lover instead.
Somehow, the fear only strengthened my desire for Diana, and the excitement of knowing she was out late, fooling around with another man, before coming back to me. I’d spend evenings unable to get comfortable, unable to settle, my heart rate racing, my breathing irregular, my limbs tingling, my extremities cold with anxiety.
But the heat that exploded in me when Diana came home, when she hopped out of the shower and all but threw herself on me — it made up for any of the negative feelings.
While I waited for her at night, my time online brought me to search for advice on my condition. It couldn’t be natural, could it? Knowing that my wife was cheating on me, and finding it disturbingly erotic? But there were others out there like me. Articles, chat forums, plenty of pornography catering to the situation I found myself in.
I spent time on the chat forums particularly, finding out about other couples and their stories. I even found myself growing bold enough to post a question of my own — laying out what was going on with me, asking the natural question, was my marriage in trouble?
The majority view of people like me seemed to be that my marriage wasn’t in trouble, unless I failed to talk to my wife about all this. I couldn’t go on in the darkness, making assumptions about her. We were good together, but if she was sleeping with another man and I was okay with it, I had to tell her. Otherwise her own assumptions might lead her to start thinking about whether she had to choose between her new lover and me.
And besides, if I came clean and opened up to her, perhaps she’d actually tell me some of the details about her affair. The more I thought about that particular reward, the more I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
I waited for the right time. It was a week night, a Wednesday, the night when I was most regularly asleep when she came home because it was usually a day of heavy meetings for me at work.
She came home and would see that the lights were off up in our bedroom, so she wouldn’t rush to come up stairs and see me, and jump into the shower.
I’d make my move, and I’d finally tell her I knew about her affair. It would all come out, and hopefully she wouldn’t be disgusted by my weird kink — that I was okay with her transgressions.
That was the plan, anyway.
*
That night as I waited for her, I was nervous like never before. As with many a night when she was gone, I spent much of the time in a state of quiet arousal, imagining what Diana might have been up to. Sneaking back to her lover’s house, tearing off his clothes and her own, sinking to her knees to take him in her mouth.
Squeezing his cock inside her.
Only, this time I had the added fear of what was coming, of our little confrontation.
Be still, my beating heart.
Midnight. Who stays out working that late? I heard the sound of Diana pulling into our driveway, shutting off her engine, opening her car door then closing it behind her as quietly as she could. She’d noticed that our bedroom lights were out. She thought I was asleep.
I heard her come through the front door, and set about fixing a late-night meal. I guessed she got hungry after sleeping with her new lover. I gave her time to eat, however, I didn’t rush. She wouldn’t be hurrying, either. She wouldn’t be hopping into the shower, believing me to be sound asleep.
Finally, I heard the sound of the TV being switched on quietly. I assumed she’d finished with her meal. My heart was pounding now, threatening to burst its way out of my chest. I pulled myself out of bed, grabbed a bathrobe, crept as slowly as I could toward the bedroom door, avoiding all the known creaky floorboards.
Out of the bedroom, I paused at the top of our stairs. Our couch was empty. The clink of silverware against a china plate alerted me to her presence in the kitchen — I’d been inaccurate with my assumptions.
A floorboard creaked under my foot. She’d hear that. I’d wanted to wait until she was done with her food, but I couldn’t hold back now, she knew I was awake, probably knew I was coming downstairs.
She was washing her hands under the kitchen faucet as I walked down the steps, and wandered with feigned sleepiness toward her.
“Hey, honey! I thought you were asleep!” she said brightly, though as she turned to me, finishing up washing her hands, she seemed flustered.
Her cheeks and her upper chest were flushed, her hair a little mussed, her work clothes a little creased, perhaps. There was a slight sheen of perspiration over her forehead, and it dampened her hairline.
She looked absolutely gorgeous.
“Hey hon. Yeah. Couldn’t really sleep — thought I could, but, you know…”
I approached her, and it quietly amused me that she looked so startled — and guilty, it seemed to me.
“You want me to fix you something? A sandwich?” she said — attempting a distraction. Hoping I’d agree, then turn to slump down on the couch in front of the TV.
“No, I’m okay,” I said, continuing toward her.
I heard her catch her breath as I came to her, her mouth opening in surprise, her eyebrows lifting, her eyes opening wide.
I just went with the flow. My hand to her neck, my mouth to hers, kissing her lips, tasting her, breathing her in, pulling her to me. Her skin was hot and clammy with the hint of perspiration, and it made her lips taste slightly salty, not to mention the soft skin of her neck. Her perfume was sweet, strong —
But oh God, the scent of sex was so intense around her.
Diana kissed me back, seeming to melt into me as she grew in confidence, and started to believe I couldn’t tell she’d just slept with another man. She seemed quite plainly delighted as I pressed myself against her, and she could feel the hardness I was keeping in my PJs.
Goodness, had she used this sweet mouth on another man? Kissing his mouth, stretching her lips around his cock? I shivered involuntarily, though it didn’t repulse me — the thought of kissing her cheating mouth only turned me on more.
My hands reached around to her cute behind, spreading my fingers over the tight black material of her suit skirt, giving her a little squeeze as I pulled her to me. She broke off from our kiss, breathless.
“Let me… just… jump in the shower,” she pleaded, beaming from ear-to-ear at my craving for her.
I shook my head. “Don’t.”
For a few moments I just continued to kiss her, enjoying the unusual scent around her, the taste of her sweet mouth, pushing her long wavy blonde hair out of her face, holding her pretty face in my hands as I sucked on her lips.
Then my hands dropped to her breasts, teasing open her pure white shirt, slipping her flesh out of her bra, cupping her, touching her, beholding the faint stickiness of perspiration, my fingers nudging against her stiff nipples.
“What’s gotten into you?” she said with an excited grunion between kisses.
“I love you,” I said in reply, kissing my way down her neck, my hands dropping to her hips, to grab the hem of her skirt and slide it upward to expose her thighs.
“Mmm… I love you too,” she beamed, tilting her head up as I sucked gently on her neck, my hands spreading over the soft flesh of her behind.
“You couldn’t wait until I came upstairs?” she laughed.
Now I ran a hand gently up her inner thigh, and up to press against her panties.
My God, she was wet. Her underwear was soaking. More evidence of her infidelity, more fuel for my shivering, trembling arousal.
“I know what’s been going on with you,” I said, stroking my fingers over her mound, over the drenched cotton covering her sex.
“What’s been going on?” She asked, prompted. A little surprised, but unable to resist as I slipped my hand beneath her panties now, to seek out the incredible heat between her thighs.
<
br /> “I’m okay with it,” I said, “really. It’s okay. I just wish… you could talk to me about it.”
Diana groaned as my fingers glided over her clit to dip into the slippery folds of her pussy. “I don’t… understand…” she said, “what… d’you mean?”
Stroking her, spreading her slick moisture over my fingers, I slipped a digit inside her. God, had another man been inside her? Had he filled her, taken her hard, made her come?
I kissed her neck. The scent of sex, of her arousal, was stronger now.
“You’ve been seeing someone, haven’t you?” I said, trying to speak as though I wasn’t passing judgement, and with no hint of anything she might misinterpret as anger.
“Who told you?” she said, and her admission sent a bolt of electricity straight through my heart.
Jesus. I felt elated.
“I figured it out,” I said. I reached behind her again, grabbing a hold of her panties to pull them down over her pert behind. A thong, no less. She never used to wear thongs.
She looked at me, and I hope saw that I wasn’t upset with her. She nodded, then quietly said, “What d’you want to know?”
“Who is he?” I asked, and kissed her just beside her mouth.
“He’s called Dr Lewis. Has an office downtown — over on L Street.”
Her lover had a name. I felt a surge of adrenalin flow through my body, my hardness throbbing between my legs. I pressed it against her body.
“Dr Lewis,” I tried the name out for myself. I felt a little giddy — it was real, it was all real. Then I said, “You’ve been seeing him a lot recently.”
She shrugged. “Once a week.”
That came as a little surprise — I’d thought it had been more regular than that.
I kissed my way down her neck, down to the opening of her shirt, over her breasts, and it seemed to me the she relaxed again.
Reaching for her panties again, I pulled them down further, until they slipped over her knees and down to the floor. “He’s good?” I asked her.
“Very good,” she smiled, gazing down at me as I dropped further down her body, my face running over her shirt, over her stomach, pushing up her skirt some more, revealing the glory of her bare pussy.
She’d never shaved it in the old days. Then ever since she’d started seeing this Dr Lewis, she’d started paying attention to it, and there had been progressively less and less hair between her legs.
I didn’t mind either way, but it was kind of hot she would do this for someone else.
She seemed a trifle confused by my questioning — no doubt the idea that I didn’t mind her admitted infidelity, that I still wanted to ravish her, didn’t gel with society’s preconceived idea of how a wronged husband ought to behave. Yet at the same time she was clearly delighted by my obvious need for her, beaming down at me as I lifted her up onto the counter, and crouched down to kiss and lick my way around her dripping wet pussy.
“You saw him tonight?” I asked in between deep breaths filling my chest with the heady scent of her sex.
“This afternoon,” she said, then closed her eyes and moaned as I placed a little kiss on her flower, then gently coursed my tongue along her groove.
She tasted divine.
“How… did you know…?” she asked, letting out another moan as I slipped a finger inside her, while continuing to lap at her juices and suck on her pussy lips.
I looked up at her and shared her smile. “You’ve been a lot happier recently.”
She nodded, placing her hand on the back of my head as I lapped at her. “He’s helped me… be more confident.”
“I approve,” I said, and for a while just enjoyed her flavor, and how she responded to my attention — the soft, silky sounds of her heavy breathing, those cute little gasps, the low, sultry moans.
She was so wet. It seemed to wrong to enjoy her like this after she’d been with another man. But the taboo just enhanced the experience, drove me on.
I guess I was inspired, and perhaps the unusual circumstances of this all helped as well — Diana was coming in no time, crying out, shuddering, and even giggling about it.
As I finally rose again, she put a hand to my cheek, beaming at me. “I’m sorry, I should have talked to you about it a long while ago,” she said.
I gave a slight shake of the head and kissed her. “Most people wouldn’t.”
“And then my promotion came along… and I just didn’t think about it…” she said.
She grinned as she caught sight of my hard cock peeking out through the fly in my pajama pants, but then I was nudging the tip against her pussy, stroking her with it, pressing it up against her, and her amusement turned to lust.
“You can tell me anything, you know,” I said.
“I know.”
“You’re going to keep seeing him?”
“If that’s okay?”
“Of course it is. But… if you can… I want to know what’s going on.”
She smiled, and then groaned as I edged forward, eased my tip inside her. “There’s not much to say,” she said, letting out a sudden deep breath as I glided inside her, filling her completely — easily because of her copious wetness. “We just… talk…” she said. “He makes me… see the world… a little differently…”
We’d never fucked in the kitchen before. Outside the bedroom, it seemed unusual, and only fired us on more. I was standing, she was perched on the edge of the counter beside the sink. And damn if there wasn’t a wide window right in front of us with the blinds open — the neighbors would be able to see if they were awake this late.
I kissed her mouth and drove into her again and again.
“I like it,” I said. “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
We panted, we groaned, we thrust together, and it seemed to me our marriage had never been stronger. Diana hopped off the counter and turned her back to me, pushing out her behind for me to slide back inside her.
She was so confident. Was this how she fucked Dr Lewis?
She held the faucet and screamed as I held her hips and pounded into her. Reaching for her breasts, I ended up tearing her shirt open the rest of the way — she’d lose a few buttons there.
She came hard, loudly, as I squeezed her breasts, as I crushed her stiff nipples between fingers and thumbs. I wanted more, though. I wanted to celebrate this new openness between us, I wanted to deliberate over her hot, unfaithful body.
Diana stepped around me and turned me, kissing my mouth as she backed me up against the counter. Then she sank to her knees, grabbing a hold of my hard cock in both hands.
“You’re so hard,” she cooed, and kissed my tip.
“You have an effect on me,” I said.
“Mmm… but it’s not normally like this…” she insisted, running her tongue down my length before taking me deep inside her mouth.
“I don’t know why…” I said. “I guess it just turns me on… that you’re… you know…”
“Seeing a therapist?”
My heart seemed to stop beating. My stomach sank like a stone.
“Wait,” she said, reading my body language, the shock clearly imprinted on my face. “That’s not what you thought I was doing?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know what to say. I felt so stupid, such an idiot. But was that really what she’d been doing? Seeing a shrink? I couldn’t believe it.
And I was so disappointed.
“When I said I was seeing someone…” she said, beginning to realize, I think, what I had initially accused her of, and what I thought she’d been doing.
I said quietly, “I’m sorry. We got mixed up, I guess.”
“Wait,” she said, gazing at my softening cock. “Tell me what you thought I meant.”
I hesitated. My pause seemed to go on forever as fear gripped my heart and wrestled with it. She was going to hate me, she would think me repulsive. She’d want to end our marriage.
“I thought you were seeing someone else…” I said.
&n
bsp; “You thought I was cheating on you?” Her tone was sharp, but not necessarily angry — more surprised, shocked, curious.
“I…” I heaved a huge sigh. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. Jesus. What could I say but the truth?
“I was talking to Mark from work… his wife started sleeping with their building contractor…”
Diana sat back on her haunches. “And that made you think I was cheating on you?”
I gripped the counter, my legs felt a little shaky. All of a sudden it felt a little cold in that kitchen.
“You’ve changed,” I said. “Some of the ways Mark’s wife changed… it seemed like you might be doing the same thing.”
“Sleeping with a contractor.” Her tone was neutral, hard to exactly say what she was feeling, what she was thinking about me. Then she said, “Wait. So… when did you start putting two and two together to make six?”
“I don’t know… a few weeks…”
“You’ve been thinking I was having an affair for three weeks?”
I shrugged.
She leaned forward and put her hands on my thighs. “But you didn’t say anything to me,” she said. “You weren’t angry… upset… disappointed…”
“No.”
“And every time I came home all horny ‘cause my sex drive’s going through the roof right now — you fucked me like crazy,” she said.
“Uh-huh.”
Her hands slid up to encircle the base of my softened cock, and the warm contact only made it begin thickening again.
“Then tonight,” she said, “you think I’ve just confirmed I was having an affair because I agreed with you that I was seeing somebody — “
Now she was stroking my shaft, and my manhood was filling out rapidly. She gazed at it in wonderment. “And you were harder than I’ve ever seen,” she said almost in a whisper.
“I thought that’s what was making you happy,” I said.
“It turned you on,” she said, apparently awestruck. “The idea of me having an affair turned you on.”
Wives with Benefits: Volume Two Page 6
