[Author's Note: This is a continuation of "Going to Mary's", by Just Plain Bob, who has graciously given his permission for me to write another chapter to his story.]
I thought I was so smart! I really thought I had all the angles figured. But as some guy once said, "the best-laid plans often go astray". In my case it should have been, "my best plans to get laid go astray".
The idea was simplicity itself. I love Sam; I love him like crazy, but he is only so-so in bed and I needed more. But Sam is also jealous, and there was no way I could be jumping in and out of another man's bed without losing him, something I wasn't prepared to do.
So with the help of my best friend Mary, I cooked up the perfect plan. I did a few things to get Sam suspicious, and then lured him into eavesdropping on a phone call with Mary in which we talked like lovers. We chatted about how often she'd eaten my pussy in the past week, about using a strap-on with me, even about how she could find another man for me—an idea I firmly rejected.
It worked like a charm. Sam was convinced he knew my secret, that Mary was my lover, and he seemed fine with it. That left me free to hurry over to Chet's house and get poked by his thick, hard, black cock until my pussy purred like a kitten! Chet was young, strong, and full of stamina. He had no interest in anything more from me than a steady dose of sex—so he was perfect. I got all the love and affection I wanted from Sam, plus some not-very-exciting sex, and I got the wild fucking I craved from Chet.
But just like in the movies, every "perfect crime" has a little something that turns out to be not so perfect. And in this case, I'd reckoned without Sam's curiosity. I hadn't considered what a turn-on Lesbian sex is to just about every man, nor what Sam might do to satisfy that curiosity.
The first week or so after he learned my "affair" with Mary, Sam was all over me! We had sex at least every day, and sometimes two or three times. Not that it was all that much better—Sam just doesn't light my fire in bed, though I love the way he tries—but it was clear that the idea of Mary and me had jump-started his libido in a big way.
It was in the second week that the first little sign of trouble appeared, though I didn't recognize it at the time. We were lying in each other's arms, catching our breath after doing it doggy-style, when Sam said, "babe, do you ever have any, you know, fantasies?"
I laughed and said, "sure, honey: me and Brad Pitt lost on a deserted island."
But he persisted. "Yeah, okay, but I mean more like, you know, things that you'd like to try? with me? or even with, I don't know, other people, other men—or women?"
Suddenly I wasn't so happy with where this was going. Think, I said to myself! How would a woman secretly having a Lesbian love affair handle this?
I pretended to look a little flustered, and said, "Sam, you must be leading up to something. Are there some fantasies you want to tell me about, or something you want us to try? I love you, baby—if you want to do it under the dining room table, or with me hanging from the living room chandelier, all you have to do is ask."
There was a pause. I could tell he was trying to figure out how to play this.
"Well... have you ever wondered what it would be like with another person? Joining us, I mean."
"Sam Hawkins, there is no way on God's green earth you are ever bringing another man into bed with us!" I said huffily. "The only cock I need is the one right here next to me right now, thank you very much!"
"No, baby, no, I didn't mean anything like that." To my delight, Sam was meekly apologetic. "But I wondered...
"Well, honey—did you ever, you know... feel any sort of attraction to another woman?"
I smiled to myself, knowing now just how to play it. It was clear he would have loved to get into a three-way with me and Mary, so I had to throw cold water on that idea in a hurry.
I acted a little flustered, and said, "no, Sam, that's disgusting! I knew a girl in college who always seemed a little odd. She lived down the hall from me. One night we were both a little drunk, coming back from a party, and she invited me into her room.
"Once we were inside she started kissing me and grabbing my tits. It was awful! I pulled away from her, ran back to my room and locked the door. After that I avoided her for the rest of the year. The very thought of that dikey stuff gives me the creeps!"
As I pretended to avert my face in embarrassment I watched him in the mirror. As I had hoped, he looked disappointed. He must have figured, okay, she's never going to tell me about her and Mary—let alone give me a chance to join them.
I turned back to him. Time to cheer him up a little. "But baby—between you and me, anything goes. I'll be your schoolgirl, I'll be your slut. Want me to dress like a hooker, and you can pick me up in a bar? Or I'll be a girl-scout, going door-to-door selling cookies, and you can lure me in for a glass of milk?"
As I talked I stroked his cock, which got interested real fast. Before long we were fucking again, and I was giving him every ounce of my hips and my breasts and my groans and gasps. It was one of our best fucks, and as we drifted off to sleep together I was pretty sure I had dodged the bullet.
I was wrong, of course. I had not reckoned on the strength of my man's curiosity.
.... There is more of this story ...