Denise's ability to quickly illustrate and detail an idea was phenomenal, which was why Hayley had hired her for an advertising project. Denise lived only several miles from us, and Hayley left to go over to her house after I returned from work. They usually communicated by phone, sending files back and forth over the internet, but the due date for the project was nearing, and Hayley decided a lot more could be accomplished in a visit.
So, the next night, it didn't surprise me when she again went over, or the next. I was, frankly, amazed that my wife managed to bring the project to completion on time, as tired as she was each night when she returned.
With the job completed, we were happy to have the extra money. Hayley had wanted to keep a large portion in her own account for general spending, but we had too much credit debt to not make a large payment.
Denise and Hayley had become friends, which was good. I had always enjoyed going out with co-workers or friends after work, which meant Hayley had to stay home with the kids. Hayley had never really had close friends that she could just go visit, although she needed an outlet after staying home with the kids each day. So, I was really happy for her that she had a new friend, and Hayley continued to go over at least once, usually twice, and occasionally three times each week. Our kids went to bed early each night, so this gave me a good bit of quiet time to read, listen to music, or play on the internet, which I enjoyed.
After a couple of months, Hayley returned from her visit, again exhausted, but it was late so I figured she was just tired from a long day. With her visits, my occasional travel, and one of us regularly not being in the mood, I noticed that our sex life had suffered in the past month. So I asked Hayley if she had noticed the same thing.
She looked as if she might just say "yes," but her facial expression changed quickly. "I have to be honest with you. I've been going to Denise's for more than just friendship," she confessed.
My immediate thoughts were "She can't mean that she's become a lesbian!; is it Denise's husband she's visiting? a loud 'no!' of denial sounds in my head; or is she just going to Denise for someone to talk about a problem in our relationship - that's got to be it."
Having jumped to a conclusion, I then asked. "What do you mean?"
My wife looked off at the ceiling as she was searching for the right way of saying her answer. "Well, let me back up a little bit. You remember I was going over there for the project?" I nodded. She continued, "The first night Denise had a bit of a headache, and she asked me to go to her bathroom to get some medicine from under her sink, while she made a change in the illustration that we were working on. So I went in the direction she pointed. As I turned the corner into her bedroom, I thought I heard her say something, so I stopped, but I didn't hear anything else, so I went on and found her Tylenol under her sink."
"As I left the bathroom, I saw something on her bedroom floor which I didn't see coming in. As I walked closer, I remembered that I had seen it before. You're not going to believe it, but do you remember when you would bring home 'Penthouse Letters,' it had pictures of a, ah, machine, called Sybian?" She looked at me waiting for me to indicate whether I remembered.
"Remind me," I said.
"It's a motor driven dildo that you sit on like a saddle, with the dildo sticking up from the seat," she said. I remembered the pictures I had seen. "I walked closer to it, just to get a better idea of what it would do. I didn't stare at it for long, but went back to her study to give Denise the Tylenol. She looked up at me, and she quickly blushed. I realized my face was probably flushed as well, so she knew that I had seen it."
Denise looked awfully embarrassed, and she started explaining, "I guess I need to say something. I remembered about that being in the floor about the time you turned into the room. I tried to speak up, but couldn't, and then it was too late. I've been staring at this screen hoping you wouldn't notice it."
"It kind of sticks out," I said. The pun was completely accidental, but it made Denise laugh and loosened us both up a little.
"I'll go ahead and tell you," she said. "My husband travels out of town almost every week, as you know. He reads certain magazines when he gets lonely, and, with a big gamble, he bought Sybian for me, for something to play with when he's gone. He had told me he was getting me a surprise, and I figured it was another, you know, vibrator. Anyway, it came with a 'satisfaction guaranteed' agreement, so the only thing left to do was to try it. It was very embarrassing to try it with him watching, but it cost a lot of money, so I was really obligated. The thought of a dildo spinning inside me really scared me... It's absolutely awesome."
My wife again searched for words. "I'm not sure how my faced looked, but Denise said very directly, 'You need to try it.' It was like she was ordering me back to her room."
"So, we went back there. Denise dis-assembled the dildo, washed it in her sink, and then pulled a briefcase type thing from under her bed. She opened it, and there were about 10 different attachments... She couldn't even look at me when she explained everything. She replaced the towel underneath it with a clean one, and walked out the door, saying, 'You're not coming out until you try it,' and she closed the door behind her. I could see by the light underneath that she was probably leaning back against it."
"I tried it without me on it at first. I used one of the smaller, less contoured dildos. It spun pretty quickly, and vibrated at the same time. I was curious, so I went ahead and tried it. The rest is history. We've never watched one another use it, but whenever I go over, she always has a clean towel and the case of attachments on the bed. For a couple of weeks, we could never really talk about it. But when I went to the bathroom, we both knew why I was going. She really has become a friend, but the machine has as much to do with why I've been over there so much, and why I haven't really had a sexual appetite lately. That thing can wear me out. If we didn't have the credit cards to pay off, I was going to buy one, for me, obviously, but also to surprise you."
I didn't know what to say, really. "So, it's better than sex?"
"Yes. But that's just part of the story. In fact, I told her I thought it was better than sex tonight. Are you ready for this? She said she tries not to use it after Wednesday night, so that when her husband returns on Friday, her sexual drive has returned. Then she said this, 'That machine is great, and I could live a happy life with it. But men's cocks are still my favorite.'"
"That's just how she said it, 'men's cocks,' and I was thinking that was a strange way to put it. When I made eye contact with her, she had a daring, funny look to her face, so I went ahead and asked her, 'Do you mean more than one?' She started telling me, and I couldn't believe what she was saying. She stopped herself halfway through and we...Let me back up and tell it like she did."
"Well, they are better than that machine. My husband took advantage of me one night, as he was watching me on Sybian. When I get rolling, my mind just departs and I just go wild with the ride. Well, when I was in the middle of things, he started adding fantasies. Like telling me to imagine myself having sex in all sorts of places, like in an elevator, or in the park, or while someone was watching through a window. He was grabbing me and stuff while he was saying this, and I was just getting more and more turned on. Finally he got to suggesting sex with another man, and then a group of men. I was absolutely bouncing on the machine at that point, screaming and everything, so he continued with gang bang comments, and I'm not sure what I was saying, but I was obviously into it. And he started asking me, 'You want it, don't you? You want it with a bunch of men, right? You want to get fucked by a group of guys one after the other, don't you? You want to get fucked with cocks in your hands and a cock in you mouth, don't you?, DON'T YOU?"
As I said, my mind was out to lunch. Somewhere in that I started saying 'yes', then I started yelling it, and, you know, he just kept going and going, and finally, as I was about to have the biggest orgasm of my life, am I embarrassing you?, he put his cock in my mouth and said 'there! that's two, how many more do you need? 3? 4? 5?' Well, all that had to come to an end, and like I said, it was the biggest orgasm of my life. It was such a turn on for both of us. So he kept repeating that type of story when we were able to do Sybian together.
He's left me magazines with stories in them for years. He buys them on his trips and then leaves them for me. Have you read them? (I nodded.) They were okay. I didn't really care if they were true or not, they just filled a need when I was lonely. I had never really thought about it, but the stories I enjoyed most involved groups of people, and really when it was just a bunch of guys and one girl. I think he enjoyed the same ones, because the page corners were often folded when he gave them to me.
.... There is more of this story ...