Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, NonConsensual, Cheating, Slut Wife, Group Sex, .
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - New Year revelations require understanding and resolutions.
Scott looked around the room. The New Year's Eve party clamored raucously with laughter and conversation. So far, the party appeared successful. To stay off the dangerous streets on this night each year, the neighborhood held their own party, which rotated every year to a different home. This year, Scott and Claire Dillon hosted the event.
He strolled into the kitchen to congratulate Claire. Her careful preparations and attention to detail had insured the success of the party. They had been married for seven years, seven wonderful years to Scott's mind, and with their cute, very loveable three-year-old daughter - staying with the grandparents, that night - they had created a loving family. Scott couldn't imagine being happier.
Successful with his own business, Scott had started building custom homes while in college studying architecture. He entered the business first as a designer, and then as a superintendent, and during his fourth year in architecture, he designed and constructed a house on his own on speculation. It sold quickly, and he started another, then another, and soon his business eclipsed the time he needed to finish his education. A late-night discussion with Claire - they had been married a year at the time - provided the direction for the rest of his career. He quit school and never looked back. He was already doing what he loved and wanted to do, and his efforts provided all the income he and his family needed. He wasn't rich, but he made an above average living - well above average.
Inside the kitchen, Claire stood looking perplexed and beautiful. Of course, she always looked beautiful. He had known from the first moment he saw her she was the woman for him. He met her while attending college after a stint in the military. She had finished college the year before and was teaching school. He had courted her because of her beauty but married her for her other qualities. She was a loving and giving woman, sexy and smart and full of joy. To Scott, she looked like a ravishing runway model, tall and slim with perky breasts and a small waist. Her hips were a touch wide for modeling, but great for bearing children, and he loved her firm derriere. She wore her dark hair long, and her green eyes never failed to dazzle him.
"What's the problem?" he asked while giving her a hug. He loved touching her, and whenever he could he reached for her if only to brush his hand on hers - or his lips. He loved her deeply and felt only pity for some men he knew who sought out women other than their wives for pleasure.
"We're running low on white wine," she said.
"I'll pop down to the liquor store and buy some more."
"Would you? If possible buy some already chilled. About four bottles should do it."
He gave her a quick kiss. "No problem."
When Scott returned, the driveway was blocked by another car. Groaning with irritation, he drove to the rear of his property so he wouldn't need to move his car until morning. He gathered the bags containing the wine he'd purchased and climbed from the car, pushing the door closed with his hip. It didn't close completely and barely made a sound. He set the bags down to open the gate, which swung wide silently. He had oiled the hinges the day before. Strolling through the gate, he elected to leave it open, too lazy to set the bags down again, but then he felt guilty. He returned and closed the gate. Manhandling the bags again, he moved across the lawn toward the side entrance of the house and suddenly noticed movement through the foliage, and then soft sounds - sounds of passion. He smiled. A couple of partygoers were making out in the gazebo, he assumed, and debated whether to continue around the foliage and interrupt them. He decided to peek around the bushes first. If they weren't too involved, he'd move by them without comment and pretend he had not seen them.
The woman was sitting astraddle the man's lap. They presented a side view, but in the dark Scott couldn't see their faces. They appeared dressed, but he was still indecisive, so he stopped and continued to watch until he could determine whether to move forward or not. The woman threw her head back and groaned softly.
She groans like Claire, Scott thought and smiled remembering how much he loved his wife's groans of pleasure. Peering through the leaves, he watched the woman rotate her hips. She's fucking him, he deduced. Studying the pair carefully, Scott noticed the man had his hands up under her skirt grasping her butt cheeks as he humped up at her. The tableau started to brighten as the moon crept out from behind a cloud.
Scott's heart started to race. He abruptly felt completely empty as if all the blood had suddenly been drained from his body. His knees wobbled. Setting the bags to the grass before he dropped them, he tried to suck in oxygen silently as he peered through the foliage.
Josh! His neighbor and friend, Josh Whitten, was fucking his wife!
He felt numb. He tried to think but was so befuddled he could do nothing except gaze at his wife as she moved, pulling his friend's cock in and out of her cunt. He couldn't see where they joined. Claire's skirt covered them. She bent and mashed her mouth to her lover, and her hips sped up. Josh helped her using his large hands to lift and pull her down over him again.
Claire groaned softly and threw her head back. Scott watched as she shuddered through an orgasm, emitting sharp but still quiet sounds of pleasure. Josh grunted and pulled her tightly to him and his body jerked as he ejaculated.
Ejaculated inside my wife, Scott thought. He's coming inside her!
Claire collapsed on Josh's chest, and they cuddled briefly. They didn't speak, or kiss, merely held each other.
"I need to get back to the party, Josh," Claire said. "Scott should be back by now. I don't want him to come looking for me."
She pushed herself up off his lap, and Josh's erection bobbed in the dark, the moonlight reflecting off the bulbous head, shiny with his juices and hers. Scott noted he was large, an inch or two longer than him, he guessed, but not as thick. Claire reached to the deck of the gazebo and picked up her panties. Josh watched as she pulled them up over her gorgeous legs and let her skirt settle back around her hips.
"Meet me one day this week," Josh said.
"No. I don't want an affair, Josh." She strolled away without looking back.
Josh leaned his head back and sighed. With an evil smile, he pulled his pants up - they were down around his thighs - and fastened his belt. Scott's so-called friend lumbered to his feet and followed Claire inside, walking with a cocky spring to his steps.
In a matter of a few minutes, Scott Dillon's happy life had crashed down around him. Confused, not only because his wife had fucked another man but also because he suddenly realized he was erect, as hard as he had ever been. He sank to the grass and leaned against a tree. If anyone had told him Claire had been unfaithful or even capable of being unfaithful, he would have called the person a liar. His mouth opened and he sucked in the cold night air. His hands trembled, and his erection pushed painfully at front of his pants. The moon moved behind another cloud, and the black night surrounded him like a fog. He closed his eyes, and a tear rolled from one corner and slid silently down his cheek.
Was this the first time? Or had there been other times? Other men? Scott knew she had been a bit wild before he met her. She had admitted as much over the years, but he didn't consider her capable of the betrayal he had just witnessed. Why? Why had she betrayed him? Didn't he give her all the sex she needed? Did she need more than he offered? He couldn't remember refusing her, but then she rarely initiated their lovemaking. Perhaps she no longer loved him. She couldn't love him, not if she could fuck another man. Could she?
What should he do? Should he confront her? If he confronted her, would she deny or admit her infidelity? And other infidelities? With the loss of his naiveté, he realized if she could sneak out to the gazebo for a quick fuck with Josh, a man she didn't want to have an affair with, that surely there had been other times, other men.
And what did he want? Did he want a divorce? Did Claire? Too many questions, questions with no answers, especially with the state of his confused and stunned mind. He wiped the tear from his cheek. For the moment, he decided to ignore what he had seen. He needed answers to many questions before he could outline a course of action.
His erection had wilted, so he pushed himself to his feet and picked up the bags of wine. As he walked through the side entrance to the house, Claire turned toward him, and her eyes widened. Was she wondering if he had seen her with Josh? Now would be the time to confront her, he knew, now when she wondered if he knew her secret, but he wasn't prepared for a confrontation - not yet. He wanted some answers first.
"Someone blocked the driveway," Scott said calmly and placed the wine on the counter. "Two chilled and two warm, the best I could do."
Looking relieved, she smiled. "Put the warm ones in the freezer for a while, and open the cold ones." She handed him a corkscrew.
He watched her rinse wine glasses as he extracted the corks. Had she washed Josh's semen from her pussy, or was it running down her legs? He groaned inwardly and felt the beginnings of another erection. He wanted to test her, wanted to run his hand up under her skirt and cup her mound. Would it be wet? Or had she washed away the evidence and put on clean, dry panties? She was accustomed to his touches, so he wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her.
"Happy New Year," he whispered and turned her to him and kissed her again. She melted against him during the embrace, but when he started to fondle her from the rear, she pushed him away.
"Later, lover," she said lustfully and flashed a sultry smile. "Take the wine and fill the glasses for our guests drinking white wine."
It was after 2:00 AM before all the guests departed, finally leaving them alone, and Claire busied herself dashing here and there picking up the clutter. Scott had watched her carefully since his return from the liquor store. She had not taken a trip to their bedroom, although she had visited the guest bath. If she had not cleaned herself and changed panties before his return, which was likely because of the timing, her pussy would be crusted with Josh's dried semen. When she bent to pick up some plates on the coffee table, he slid his hand up her leg and cupped her cunt. No panties!
"Sexy," he said. "When did you take off your panties?"
She straightened and blushed. "A while back. I waited too long... ah, damn, I'm embarrassed. I wet my panties just a little."
He fondled her until she skipped away.
"Later, help me pick up."
When she walked into the kitchen, Scott moved to the guest bath. He found her panties under a towel in the linen closet. They smelled like sex. Like semen! He put them back where he had found them.
An hour later, husband and wife lay side by side in their bed.
"I think everyone had a good time," Claire said.
"Some more than others," Scott added. Like Josh, for instance. Claire, too, to be fair.
Claire chuckled. "True. Nancy drank more than she should. I watched her and Bill go into the guest bath together." She squirmed, signaling her pleasure as he caressed her smooth skin. "That's when I had my... ah, problem. They were in there for quite a while?"
Nancy was Josh's wife. "Why didn't you use our bathroom?"
"It was occupied, too."
"Did Josh see them?"
"No, I don't think so."
"What about Bill's wife?"
"Helen was busy with Pete."
"A licentious bunch." He chuckled, a subterfuge. He wondered if he would ever be able to honestly laugh again. "What about you, Claire? Do you ever get the urge for another man?"
Silence. Finally, she said, "Not really."
Why did she hesitate? Had she considered a different answer?
"What does 'not really' mean?" He reached and cupped her breast, tweaking her nipple. "Your answer was somewhere between yes and no. I suspect the honest answer would have been yes. Am I correct?" He leaned and ran his raspy tongue over the nipple, and then pinched it again.
"Yes, sort of. I've fantasized. Haven't you? Fantasized about being with another woman, I mean?"
An honest answer wouldn't get him the answers he wanted, so he lied. "Yes."
"Anyone in particular?" she asked and then groaned with pleasure when his fingers cupped her mound and started to explore between her swollen pussy lips.
"Not really," he said, giving her some of her own medicine. "I have fantasized about you with another man, though." Another lie. "You told me you were a bit wild before we married, and I wondered... ah, if only one sex partner for seven plus years had become commonplace for you, if you wanted some variety like you had before we married, wanted the excitement of someone new, someone who could surprise and excite you more than me."
"Oh, honey, no. I love you - only you. Besides, you always excite me, like now, for example. I love the way you touch me, what you're doing to me right now."
Three hours ago, he would have believed her. Now images flashed like a sideshow in his mind. Click! Claire's grimace when she climaxed around Josh's hard-on. Click! The bulbous head of Josh's long cock, bobbing and shining in the moonlight when she moved off him. Click! Semen encrusted panties hidden in the guest bath. Scenes of betrayal!
The images and the feel of his wife's swollen, wet pussy lips had caused his cock to lengthen again. His balls ached, he realized. Unfulfilled arousal? He wondered yet again why he had become aroused when he watched Claire fucking his so-called friend. He had felt disgustingly betrayed. The scene had kicked all the air from his lungs, but still he had become excited. Why?
He rolled to his side and lifted her left leg so he could enter her. The position allowed them to talk while they fucked, a position they had used often, especially if the hour was late because it also didn't require much exertion from either of them to achieve a climax. He slipped his erection inside her. It moved into her easily. Was some of Josh's come still there paving the way? Sloppy seconds, his mind screamed, and his cock throbbed.
"Tell me about one of your fantasies," he said. "Put it in context of our party tonight." Did his request make her think of Josh?
"Hmm. Let's see. You left to buy more wine. I was in the kitchen and Harrison came in. I had danced with him earlier, and as we danced, he became erect. I could feel his hard-on long and hard against me. He danced me into a corner, and while gazing into my eyes, lowered his hands and slid them up under my skirt. This was after I had removed my panties. His eyes widened when he discovered my bare butt, and the feel of my satiny skin inflamed him. He groaned and reached for my pussy from behind, sliding a large finger over my cunt lips, suddenly plunging his middle finger deeply inside me."
He groaned. She giggled.
She had been putting him on, he knew, and wondered if any of what she said had happened, but with Josh, not Harrison. Claire didn't like Harrison. She considered him conceited, much too full of himself. He decided to push her, to see if she would take 'Harrison' to the gazebo.
"What happened in the kitchen?"
"Yes, you started your 'fantasy' in the kitchen."
"Oh, yes, I did, didn't I? Hmm, well right after you walked out the door, he walked right up to me and wrapped his arms around me." She moaned as her husband thrust into her and quickly flashed his fingers over her clitoris. "You're making me very hot, Scott."
"Good. He took you into his arms, and - what?"
"Kissed me, a passionate kiss that took my breath away."
"I want you, he told me, with a husky voice filled with passion, and his hands moved back under my skirt."
"What did you do?"
"I rubbed my hand over his long cock on top of his pants. It was throbbing, and I realized I wanted him, too."
Scott groaned and stopped moving inside her to control his orgasmic urge. "Don't stop. Keep talking."
"You were gone to the liquor store. An opportunity existed. I took his hand and pulled him outside through the side door. We kissed again in the dark, and his hands became more aggressive." She groaned and pushed at his hand. "Stop touching me, Scott, or I'll come."
An opportunity? Had she utilized this opportunity and many other opportunities to be unfaithful? He pulled his wet fingers off her cunt and wiped them on his thigh. They were sticky. Glancing at her, he noticed her eyes were closed. Was some of the stickiness on his fingers semen, Josh's semen? He quickly brought the hand to his nose. Yes! He could detect the sour odor of old semen. He gasped and sucked in air as her betrayal knocked the wind out of him yet again. Betrayal and arousal. A strange, unfathomable dichotomy. His arousal from the event still confused him.
"Go on," he said.
"He took control at that point and pulled me to the gazebo. He sat on a chair without arms and undid his pants, pushing them down on his thighs. His cock bounced in the moonlight, a long hard cock with a large, angry crown. I took it into my hands and stroked it. I wanted it inside me. It was so long, and I wanted it to plunge into me, to fill me."
She gasped, from reliving the event or from Scott's fingers and cock at her cunt. Scott couldn't decide. "What happened then?"
"I straddled him and wiped the swollen crown through my wet pussy. God, I was excited. My cunt was drooling by then, and I settled the head of his cock at the entrance to my vagina and slowly sank down around him, savoring the feel of a strange cock in my cunt."
Scott couldn't stop his climax. He tried but he swelled up inside her and his come spurted, splashing at the back of her cunt, joining Josh's semen. He groaned and imagined his sperm swimming bravely, competing with Josh's, as they searched diligently for an ovum.
His fingers had returned to her clitoris, and he aggressively rubbed the nubbin as he continued to jerk with orgasmic spasms. Claire cried out as her orgasm overwhelmed her. "Ah! Ah! Ah!" she panted as she ratcheted her hips, milking all the semen from his cock, milking his cock like she had milked Josh's a few hours before.
When they recovered slightly, Scott said, "It's a good thing I didn't arrive back home ten minutes earlier, or I would have caught you?"
Her body stiffened, and he realized she had connected his return to the time she had been back in the kitchen after fucking Josh. Of course, she couldn't be certain he knew, but it was possible, and he wanted the possibility to ferment in her mind. He wanted her confused and concerned - like him.
"What do you mean?" she asked tremulously.
"Your fantasy took place in the gazebo while I was at the liquor store. Remember, I had to park behind the house. If I had arrived before your fantasy finished, I would have seen you with Harrison in the gazebo as I walked to the side door."
Silence. He had not let her off the hook and decided to set it. "My fantasy would have me arriving before you finished. I would have watched you fuck him, watched while peering through the foliage, not knowing at first it was you fucking another man until the moon moved from behind a cloud and brightened the scene."
More silence. "The fantasy doesn't work for me, though," Scott added to soften the innuendo. "You don't even like Harrison. Now if your fantasy had been about... hmm, say Josh, or someone you admire, it would have been more believable. Regardless, I enjoyed the fantasy." The hook was set. Would she fight it, deny everything, or cave in and confess?
"I noticed," she said dryly and turned on her side away from him.
She'd do neither that night, he decided, so he cuddled against her spoon-fashioned and wrapped his arms around her. "You tell a hell of a story, Claire. I noticed the fantasy excited you, too. I thought I knew you, knew everything about you, but..." He hesitated.
"You've never admitted to such graphic fantasies before. Do you have them often?"
"What about you? Do you think about me with other men often?"
Just like her to answer a question with a question.
"No, not often. You didn't answer my question? Have you fucked many men since we've been married? In your mind, I mean?"
"A few. I have an active imagination, Scott. Do you think I'm wicked because I fantasize? I read somewhere that fantasizing is a good thing."
"Where? In some woman's magazine?"
"Probably. It's late, let's go to sleep."
He kissed the nape of her neck. "Okay. I love you, Claire. The party was a roaring success, mostly due to your efforts."
"Thank you. I love you, too." She yawned. "God, I'm tired."
Scott closed his eyes and wondered if he could sleep. He felt her relax against him, and a short time later, her breathing deepened. Obviously, she had no trouble sleeping. She had fucked another man tonight, but she didn't appear to harbor much guilt over her betrayal. If this had been the first time she had been with another man, Scott believed she would have exhibited more guilt, would have had trouble falling asleep, especially with the innuendoes he had left hanging in the air, with the hook he had snagged in her jaw as if she were a swordfish taking his bait. A half-hour later, still wide-awake, he moved away from her and rolled his feet to the floor. He strode naked to the family room and poured a brandy, settling into his chair, a large, comfortable chair that Claire threatened to give to the Good Will once a year, at least.
As he sipped and let the cognac warm him, he wondered how much of her fantasy was real, but with Josh, not Harrison. She had used her missing panties to heighten the fantasy, which wasn't real. Scott had watched her pull her panties on in the gazebo after she fucked Josh, so she'd been wearing them at that time. He suspected she removed them in the guest bathroom and washed herself shortly after his return, finally hiding the soiled lingerie in the towels. He did remember Claire dancing with Josh earlier, but he had not seen Josh push her into a dark corner and fondle her. Josh could have felt her up sometime during the evening before he left for the liquor store, though, and he suspected the scene in the kitchen had some validity. Certainly, her description of what happened in the gazebo rang true. He had personally witnessed part of her so-called fantasy.
Then he remembered her comment about the opportunity his absence provided. He had given her innumerable opportunities over the years to be with other men, not purposefully, of course, because he never considered Claire capable of betraying him with such ease.
And Josh's wife had gone into the guest bath with Bill, and Bill's wife had been busy with Pete. Had everyone but him messed around with someone else's spouse that night? Was that why Claire fucked Josh? Because everyone they knew fucked around?
Everyone but him. He had admitted to fantasies about other women, but he had never wanted another woman, not even in his fantasy world, not from the day he met Claire. He loved her dearly, and they had promised to be faithful to each other in their wedding vows. He, for one, had taken his promises seriously. Obviously, Claire had not. Oh, he'd looked. Scott appreciated beautiful things - the sensuous shape of a woman's leg, the roundness of a well-formed behind. Cleavage, though in truth he preferred perky, well-proportioned breasts to the monsters raved about by many men, and most of all he appreciated the overall look of a woman, a studied, put-together look designed to attract male eyes without being sluttish - like Claire. Yes, he looked.
Tears welled in his eyes again, and he felt so empty inside, so lost. What should he do? Soon, he would need to confront her and tell her he had seen her with Josh. But first he wanted to know if there had been others, other times, and other men. He needed to know the depth of her betrayal.
Weary. He suddenly felt so weary he wondered if he could push himself up and go back to bed. He set the snifter of brandy on the coffee table and stood, feeling lightheaded. He made it back to the bed and fell asleep two minutes after his head hit the pillow. He had feared he would relive the scene he had witnessed over and over in his sleep, but thankfully he spent the night dreamless.
Claire roused, blinking and rubbing her eyes. They felt fuzzy, like her brain. She glanced toward Scott. He was still asleep with a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth. Cute drool, not disgusting. She wanted to reach and wipe the drop of moisture away, but he needed sleep and her touch might awaken him. Her heart went out to him, and her love for him washed over her like a soft spring rain. A lock of his thick, naturally curly hair had fallen over one eye, which prompted another urge to push it back from his face, but she quelled that urge, too. She remembered her first sight of Scott, standing tall and confident and very masculine as her date for that evening introduced her to him. She had been drawn to him immediately, and before the evening ended, she had become Scott's date, not quite sure how the switch had taken place, but immensely pleased nonetheless. She took him to her bed that very night and discovered he was the best lover she had ever had. Soon they were dating each other exclusively, a first for her, though she occasionally met a past lover without Scott's knowledge until he asked her to marry him.
She smiled and rolled her feet to the floor. The shower helped clear the fuzziness as she let it massage her sleep-stiffened muscles and beat on her slightly aching head.
God, what a night, especially after Scott and I went to bed, she thought as she dried her body with a towel. He had wanted her to tell him a fantasy, a fantasy involving the party, and she had told him one, changing the name of her adulterous co-conspirator to protect the not so innocent. And the telling of the fantasy combined with reliving her stolen, illicit moments with Josh had excited her all over again.
Then Scott had made the remark that made her wonder if he had seen her with Josh. Ten minutes, he had said. If he had arrived ten minutes earlier he would have seen her, he mentioned off hand. She remembered her heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds. Had he seen her with Josh in the gazebo? Had he peered through the foliage, like he said, and watched her fuck his friend?
She shivered with dread and hoped beyond hope he had not seen them. She loved her husband, loved the life the two of them had created together, and she adored their daughter. If her sluttish dalliance with Josh ruined her marriage...
She berated herself, cursed herself for being such a damned fool. Why had she allowed things to go so far with Josh? She couldn't even blame what happened on booze. She had been the hostess and, accordingly, had been careful about her alcohol intake. She grimaced. Josh had not been as circumspect about the number of drinks he had tossed down, and with alcohol-dampened inhibitions, he had put on a full-court press, fondling her while she danced with him, pushing her into a dark corner and kissing her. His hands had been aggressive, too. With fewer drinks inside him, he would have backed off when she pushed his hands away the first time. She had always been able to handle him before, but he had persisted, pushing her panties to the side and sliding a finger into her cunt. The memory made her shiver with pleasure, and she felt an awakening twinge of arousal. God, he was nasty. He shoved his finger inside her as deep as it would go, and she let him thrust it into her a few times before she pushed him away. Then later, he had grabbed her in the kitchen...
She shook away the memories as she reflected on Scott's question last night. He had asked if she sometimes wanted a different man for variety's sake? Or, merely for the excitement of a new experience? If she had been honest, she would have answered his question with a resounding yes. Claire didn't equate love and sex. She had always enjoyed sex, had enjoyed sex with a variety of men, but had only loved one man in her life - her husband.
Still, when Josh had kissed her in the kitchen after Scott left for the store, she had grasped his hard-on and fondled its length over his trousers. It felt so long, longer than Scott's, and all at once she wanted to feel it inside her, feel it inside like she felt his finger jammed fully inside her cunt earlier. As she told Scott, she had the opportunity and she took it. Now she wished she'd been more prudent. In her passion-fogged mind, she saw no downside. Scott would be gone for a while, and no one had seen them in the kitchen, or for that matter, in the dark corner of the living room. But if by chance, someone had observed them, no one would spread the word. Claire had not been the only person to misbehave last night. She had no doubt Nancy had fucked Bill in the guest bath. And Bill's wife was in the master bedroom with Pete, the reason she couldn't use the master bath to clean Josh's semen from her pussy when she returned to the house. Pete's wife... she didn't know what Pete's wife was doing, or with whom, or where, but Claire knew she wasn't above fooling around. Last year, she had disappeared with... Claire couldn't remember, but she had disappeared with someone. The entire episode with Josh had been exciting - quick, unplanned, illicit, and nasty, which made it exciting. No harm, no foul, at least as long as Scott remained ignorant of the event. She knew she was making excuses, rationalizing what had happened, trying to make her adulterous, slutty behavior acceptable, at least to herself.
She put on a robe and padded to the kitchen. "Coffee," she muttered. "I need coffee." While the coffee perked, she straightened the remains of the mess from the previous night. She liked a tidy kitchen and a clean house, and took pride in her homemaking abilities.
Sometimes you are such a slut, she told herself with a sly smile as she wiped the table with a damp cloth. Last night had not been the first time she'd been unfaithful, and shaking her head, she realized it probably wouldn't be the last. And it wasn't because she didn't enjoy sex with Scott. In truth, he was the best lover she had ever been with, and she had been with a lot of men. She had told Scott she'd been a bit wild, but "a bit" stretched the truth a bit, she thought with a quiet chuckle. When she started fucking at the ripe age of fourteen, she found a pastime truly worthy of pursuit. She didn't know how many men she had been with before she met Scott. She wasn't the type to keep score, but in some circles she had been considered an easy lay. She chuckled. Why not? She had been easy. She liked to fuck. And Scott had been the best; she would not have married him otherwise.
But Scott was such a straight arrow, naïve actually. She knew he equated sex and love and would consider her adulterous behavior last night a betrayal. But in her mind, she had not betrayed him. She had merely been true to her nature. She had felt Josh's long cock over his trousers and had wanted to feel it inside her, so she had dragged him outside to the gazebo and fucked him, and afterwards she had been as deeply in love with Scott as she had been before the adulterous event, more in love with him actually. Being with Josh made her appreciate Scott that much more.
She poured fresh-brewed coffee into a cup, added cream and sugar, and let the aroma waft under her nose. She sipped and sighed. Turning to a sound, she watched Scott lumber into the kitchen.
"Pour me a cup, too, please," he said.
She loved his look. Tall and assured - four inches taller than her five nine. A thick hairless check with well-defined musculature, and dark, very intense liquid eyes she never tired of gazing into or feeling them inspect her, which they did frequently. This morning his dark, curly hair was wet, like hers, and plastered tightly to his head. He must have roused shortly after she showered. He looked... sad, sort of, definitely not happy. Usually he arrived in the kitchen each morning with a wide smile and a quick kiss for her, ready to attack the day. Not this morning.
Yes, she thought yet again. He saw me with Josh last night. What should I do? Should I confess and ask for his forgiveness, promise to never stray again? She set a cup of coffee in front of him, black like he liked it, and sat across the table as they both sipped their morning coffee with their own thoughts.
The silence stretched out for about a minute, and silence was so out of character for Scott. He couldn't stand silence. He had to fill the blank spaces. He glanced guiltily at her over the rim of his cup. Why? He didn't have anything to feel guilty about. Or did he? Damn him! He did have something to feel guilty about. He had seen her with Josh, and the sight had excited him. He had admitted to having fantasies about her with other men, and as she related the part fantasy, part true story last night, he had become excited all over again, like she had as she relived the illicit event. Yes, he had seen her with Josh.
"I'm sorry," she said simply.
"Do you love him?"
"No, not at all. I'm in love with you, Scott."
"Why then? Can you please explain how you could betray me like you did if you love me? I'm confused, Claire. I feel all empty inside, and so damned sad I could cry."
Claire watched as tears welled in his eyes, which wrenched her heart. She had hurt him deeply, she could see, and didn't now how to take his pain away, pain she had caused.
"I don't know if can explain, Scott. It just happened, like in the fantasy I told you about last night."
"I heard you tell Josh you didn't want an affair. Was last night the first time?"
She understood his question. She could no longer play to his naiveté. He had lost his innocence last night when he watched her fuck his friend.
"With Josh, yes," she said. No more secrets. Secrets undermined and destroyed. She'd tell him everything.
"Then there have been others?"
"Not many. I've never had an affair, Scott." Scott might consider the "not many" a lie, but her comment about not having an affair was true. An affair would have been messy. Besides, she had not loved any of the men she had been with over the years since her wedding day. She had enjoyed the illicit sex, the quick, exciting unplanned liaisons. She had rutted like a bitch in heat, and then walked away, always returning to the man she loved, the man sitting across the table from her.
He angrily brushed the heel of his hand across his eyes, wiping away his tears. "Define an affair," he demanded.
"Being with a man a number of times over a period of time. An affair would have required some deep affection for the man on my part, at the very least, if not some love. I've only loved one man in my life, Scott. You. I could never have an affair with another man."
"But you can fuck another man."
"You won't have an affair, but you'll take advantage of a quick, unplanned fuck, if an 'opportunity' arises?"
His bitter words stung her, and she winced as if he had struck her. When she refused to answer his question, he shook his head with disgust. She could see he was not only confused and hurt but also now he felt angry and revolted.
"I'm really sorry, Scott. What I did was wrong. It was wrong because I knew you would consider what I did as a betrayal of our love."
His eyes widened. "And you don't?" he asked utterly amazed.
"No. I don't equate love and sex like you. Last night, Josh excited me. He wanted me, and... Let me just say, I ended up wanting him, too. I didn't plan what happened. It was quick and nasty and exciting, and it was a one-time, never-to-be-repeated event. I didn't love you less afterwards. Like experiences in the past didn't change how I felt about you, either. In fact, some of them made me love you more. You are the best lover I've ever had, Scott, and whether you believe me or not, I love you as deeply as you love me, or rather the way you loved me before you saw me with Josh."
He shook his head. "I don't understand."
She remembered he felt guilty, too. It was time play to his guilt, a manipulative move, she knew, but she needed to turn the conversation away from her behavior. "Last night when I told you my fantasy, which you knew at the time was more a confession than a fantasy, you became excited. You relived the event like I did while I told you about it, didn't you?"
He looked sheepish and nodded.
"When you saw me with Josh in the gazebo, did you get a hard-on?"
Another nod. "Which confused me," he added.
"Why didn't you confront me immediately? You could have caught me with my panties down and off and in the act, so to speak."
"I don't know. When the moon came out from behind a cloud and I recognized you, it was as if someone had kicked all the wind out of me. I was stunned. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to set the bags with the wine on the grass or I would have dropped them. I stood weak-kneed and wobbly and watched you fuck him and listened to your groans of pleasure, sounds I believed only I had heard for the last seven years. I watched as you experienced an orgasm, and watched as he climaxed inside you. I watched you move off him and put your panties back on. I heard him ask you to meet him this week and listened to you tell him you didn't want an affair, and then you left him. I watched him pull up his pants and follow you inside, and then I fell to the grass, and a cloud covered the moon again, and I wept in the pitch black of the night. That's when I noticed I had an erection, which confused me. I didn't confront you then or later, because I believed you no longer loved me. How could you love me and fuck another man so cavalierly, I asked myself. And because you had been so casual about fucking Josh, I believed you had been unfaithful before with other men. I had too many questions, and I wanted answers before I could confront you, before I could outline a course of action."
"Have you outlined your course of action?"
He shook his head. "I have some answers now, but I'm still befuddled. I love you. I watched you fuck another man, a so-called friend of mine, but I still love you. I don't think it's possible to turn love off in an instant, not honest love, but I don't like you this morning as much as I did yesterday morning, Claire."
She felt tears smart her eyes. He was not only the love of her life, he was also her best friend, and now because of her sluttish behavior, he didn't like her anymore. She jumped up and rushed from the room. She didn't want him to see her cry. She feared he would not take her in his arms and comfort her as he had in the past, and she couldn't bear the thought of weeping in the same room with him without his arms around her.