Intro: Consequences is a group of stories, each of them separate and not connected to the others. Their main issue will be the effect of extramarital sex on the family unit. This is the fourth story of this group.
Special thanks to my proof reader, Bruce, for improving the quality of my language.
I was sitting there with the TV showing white snow and the VCR still running, tears running down my face and my whole body trembling and wracking with sobs.
The marriage to the wonderful man I've loved so much for the past 6 years ended, completely and entirely by my own doing. I had no one to blame but myself, my ever present lust and my slutty behavior.
Knowing me he warned me before he proposed to me, that he will never tolerate any infidelity. His words were 'I have no intention of becoming a cuckold and/or share my wife with anyone else. If you can't promise that - I won't even propose.'
My name is Janet Moon, I'm 26 years old and I've been married to my husband Mark for the past 3 years after a period of another 3 years that we were together.
Before meeting Mark I had allowed myself to acquire a reputation — with some it was a slut, with others it was of a girl who enjoyed sex a lot, was willing to try anything and didn't always care with whom.
By the age of 20 I'd already lost count as to how many sex partners I had had — male and female — or how many multiple sex events I had participated in. Some of those events I still remembered fondly and was even turned on by the memories. One of those was a Labor Day party in which I was the only female among a changing number of men that averaged about 20. In that party I had one kind of sex or another with all present males about three times with each. As the people were changing all the time — some leaving and new ones coming in — I must have been fucked one way or another at least 80 times that day. My cunt was sore for about 3 days, but not so bad that I couldn't fuck a guy or two every day (my norm).
I liked guys with 8" cocks or more, and who could fuck at least 3 times a night causing me to have at least one orgasm in each fuck. About 5% of the guys I've fucked met these criteria, and I had a list of them with names, phones and e-mail addresses to call whenever I had the need for their cocks (which happened usually when I was not satisfied with someone else I dated that day). The list really included only 20 names, but that was enough. Those guys would leave another girl in the middle of a fuck to be with me. 3 of those guys where my professors at college, and one of them even lost his wife who heard about his 'fondness' for me.
Anyway this is what I was — and liked being — when I met Mark Moon, a senior in electronics. Just like any other date I had — we fucked on our first date. Hell, why waste time? Dating was a way of courting before fucking anyway, so why is this silly counting of first date, second date, third date for making out and from the fourth date it was allowed to fuck. Such a waste of time when you can enjoy what you want to do anyway as of the first date unless you really don't like the guy.
Mark, of course, knew my reputation (everybody at the college did) and didn't really mind, but something happened to me. Without paying attention I stopped fucking around (well, almost... ) and started dating Mark exclusively. Oh, well, I still felt I need the variety so when the itch became bad, about once a month; I called one or two of the guys on my list and had a night of fun. But, for the first time in my life I wanted discretion and asked the guys not to spread the word.
We were together for about 3 years while Mark graduated and (only then I found out that he was from a wealthy family) started his own company, and I studied 2 more years till graduation. We lived together happily like a married couple. There was hardly a day that we didn't fuck, and every day was like something new, so we never settled into the normal routine like other people who slowly lose interest. Without his knowledge of course I kept fucking others too but on a decreasing frequency. Mark had kept me fully satisfied and yet I still needed to feel another cock in me from time to time.
When we were 3 years together and my extra activities became very rare I asked the question:
"Mark, are you ever going to propose to me? Are we getting married sometime?"
His reply surprised me so much that I sat dumbfounded for a few minutes.
"No. As much as I love you, and you know very well that I do, I have no intention of marrying you."
When I was able to speak and the tears stopped flowing I asked:
"Why, Mark? You say that you love me, and you know perfectly well that I love you too, so why are you so decisive against marrying me?"
"Jan, I do love you, and I'm sorry this subject came up, but what you don't know about me is that I'm the possessive type. You like sex a lot with whoever comes along, and I can't tolerate being cuckolded or having to share my wife with others. The way we are now there is no legal commitment and I know for a fact that from time to time you fuck others. So you have your freedom to enjoy whoever you want. But can you imagine yourself being totally monogamous and faithful? Living the rest of your life with one man only? Fucking one man only?"
I tried to deny fucking other men while being with him, which turned out to be a mistake. He recited a list of names and approximate dates, and what he knew was all true.
"You see, darling, even now you tried to lie to me. What will happen if and when we are married?"
God, I loved the man and wanted nothing more than being his wife, but it seemed that I had some tough decisions to make. I had to promise that I won't have any more men and that was very hard. Now that I knew that he knows about all the men I had in the last few months it was clear to me that being married to him I'll be under some kind of surveillance all the time. What would be more important — my love for that man or my love for a variety of cocks?
It took 3 more months to convince him that I'll be a faithful wife. I felt a real pain when I made my promises.
A few days later we stood in front of a Justice of Peace and got married, but not before we signed and notarized a pre-nup agreement in which it said very clearly that if any of us was caught in an act of infidelity — the divorce will be immediate and the unfaithful one will get nothing from the joint property and no other financial compensation. This document was about 'any of us' but it was perfectly clear that this paragraph was meant for me only. So, with heavy feelings, I signed the document in front of a notary public.
For 2 years and a half I held on, and succeeded suppressing my need for more cocks. We were really happy together and strangely — I was sexually satisfied. Oh, Mark had always been good in bed and after 3-4 fucks (our norm) a night, and sometimes more in the afternoon and one before breakfast — I was really satisfied.
But Mark's company needed more of his time and energy, and our 3-4 fucks a night came down to 2-3 and then to 1-2. Although when Mark went on business trips he'd always taken me with him (was it showing that he didn't trust me alone at home?) I was starting to feel the itch. The itch of needing other cocks as well. I loved Mark very much and kept fighting the itch, knowing what would happen if I yield to it and got caught, but my defenses were weakening by the day. I just had to have a variety of cocks again.
And then, one day as I was shopping in town, I was nearly run over by a car. I got out of my regular lingerie shop, and started crossing the street without looking. I had just bought some sexy lingerie that made me hot and horny just from thinking how a man would react when seeing me in it. The screech of tires brought me back to earth, and then the driver stepped out of his car.
"Jan, is it really you?"
It was Stan Howard, one of my 20 regular lovers from college; one of those with whom I still had sex while being Mark's girl. I recognized him immediately, the memories came back in a flash and I became immediately wet between my legs.
"Stan, fancy seeing you in this town! What are you doing here?"
"I'm here on a business conference for a week. I never knew that you lived here or I would have called you."
Cars started honking and we quickly decided to meet at his hotel, the Hilton, for a light lunch. He drove his car and I drove mine and we met in the hotel lobby, going out to a nearby restaurant for lunch.
During lunch our conversation flowed. Stan told me about his failed relationship and I told him about my wonderful marriage with Mark. Stan knew Mark from the college days and it also turned out that his business in town was with Mark's company. But, during the conversation Stan saw the glint in my eyes and my fidgeting in my seat, and he suddenly asked:
"Jan, sweet, I understand that you love Mark a lot, but are you really monogamous and faithful or is your old self surfacing from time to time?"
I told him about Mark's delayed proposal, about the pre-nup and about the fact that I've been faithful for two and a half years. Then, stupidly, I told him about my returning itch and being scared to do anything about it for the fear of losing Mark.
He looked at me for a while, and then said:
.... There is more of this story ...