Thank you to my two editors and friends who make my stories a much better read, LadyCibelle and Techsan.
My wife and I have been married over fifteen years now. Three kids later and settled down into a somewhat normal life. I work the afternoon shift at the factory and she works day shift over at the insurance office.
I usually get home around midnight and she is usually asleep. Sometimes she waits up for me if she can. She told me her hectic schedule makes her tired and sometimes she just needs to relax. If she's awake, I lay with her for awhile and talk. If she's asleep, I usually go on the computer and read a few sex stories before going to bed.
I get so wound up on some of these stories. Fantasies and reality, reality vs. fantasy, I get so confused. Are these just the writers' thoughts or do people really do these things? So much cheating going on in the world. Some of it must be true with the divorce rate as high as it is. Cuckolding the husband and swapping wives, so much of it seems to be going around. I do have to say that in fantasy land a lot of it is a turn-on. At first it just seemed stupid: a man wanting his wife to have other men and maybe even be part of it. There were so many stories about it that it must happen a lot.
Sandy, my wife, and I had a pretty good marriage. We made love probably every two weeks, which seemed pretty good for a couple being married as long as us. We did our usual stuff, kissing, hugging and then we would choose a position. I liked it best when I could relax on my back and she would ride me. It gave me great access to her tits and I could talk to her. I loved dirty talk during sex. I started doing it after reading the stories a few months ago. She went along but I think it bothered her. Hell, I know it bothered her but it sure helped me get off.
One morning Sandy was sitting at the table looking a bit depressed.
"What's the matter, Honey? After last night I would think you would be happy. It isn't very often we do it twice. Damn, you were fantastic."
"Jim, I'm worried about us. Ever since you started talking the way you..."
I interrupted her. "Honey, it's just fantasy talk. I don't really want to see you with other men. It just fantasy..."
"That's what bothers me. You can't get off anymore unless you picture me fu... having sex with other men. I'm worried about you, Jim, I really am. It doesn't seem normal."
"For Christ's sake, millions of guys and probably women too think about sex with other people."
"I don't, Jim! I don't need sex with other men to get off. You're all the man I need."
"Are you telling me you wouldn't like some big dicked guy to sweep you off your feet and fuck you all night?"
"For God's sake, Jim! No, I don't want that. If I wanted another man, all I would have to do is dress sexy and go to the nearest lounge. Don't you get it? I don't need other men; I just want you to be with me and think about us when we're together."
"You might say that, but I don't believe you. Everyone desires other people."
"Is this about you, Jim? Do you want other women; do you desire other women when you're with me? Is that what all this sex talk is all about? You letting other men have me so you can fuck any slut you want?"
"No, dammit, it's fantasy talk to bring new things into our sexual relationship."
"So I'm not enough for you?" She started crying and went into the bedroom.
Damn, I didn't want to make her cry; I love her. Maybe she was right; our sex life was good. Why mess with it? I do have to say getting it out in the open might have been a good thing.
One morning I heard the kids get up; we had two teenage girls and a boy who was nine.
"Hi, Dad. Where's Mom? She promised us pancakes this morning and Mom never breaks her promise." Bart was kind of a cool kid. He might be the youngest but he held his own against his sisters. They fought a lot but you could tell they all loved each other.
"I'm right here, Bart. We'll start the pancakes in a minute. Get the pancake mix out and the eggs. Connie, you can fry up some bacon while I get dressed."
No more was said and I figured it would be best not to mention it. Our life seemed back to normal until we made love the following weekend. I had just read some cheating wives stories and began talking to Sandy while I had my dick planted deep in her pussy from behind.
"You like it this way, don't you?"
'Uh, hah," whispered Sandy.
"Can't tell who's fucking you. Could be anybody. You feel my hard cock deep inside you?"
"Yes, be quiet and keep fucking me harder, please!"
"It isn't me, Sandy; it's a stranger plowing his big cock into you from behind. Tell him what you want."
"Just fuck me, make love to me, shoot your load in me. Oh, God, Jim, I feel it coming. Oh, God, so good, fill me, Honey, fill me with your load."
I sprayed shot after shot into her. So damn good. Was she thinking of me or someone else? I couldn't remember everything she said. All I know is that I pictured her being fucked by a stranger and it felt so hot.
It went this way for a couple of weeks. I would say things about strangers and she would answer but I never could remember everything she said. Would she fuck a stranger? I doubted it but you never know.
She told me that the following Friday she had a conference to go to about two hours away. Her office had won an award for being the top office in the district and the whole office staff and the agents were going for a special recognition dinner and award banquet. She was so happy about going and asked me to go.
"Sandy, that's a work night. I'd love to go but you understand that I would have to use a vacation day."
"So you aren't going with me? Thanks for being there for me, Jim." She was pissed at me again.
"I'm always here for you. This is an award dinner. You don't need me to eat; you're capable of eating by yourself." I was just digging a deeper hole for myself.
"Well," she said snottily. "We'll be spending the night in a motel. I'm not driving home for two hours after drinking. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky."
I was too stupid to stop while I was ahead. "Yeah, maybe you can find that big dicked stranger to plow your ass." I knew it was wrong when I said it but it was too late.
"You mother-fucker, maybe I will find a fucking stranger, just to teach you a lesson." She had tears running down her face as she ran to the bedroom.
Life was cold the next few days and it wasn't the weather. Sandy would hardly talk to me at all, let alone have sex with me. The kids even asked me why Mom didn't talk to me. I told them we had another argument but she would get over it. She always does.
"What did you argue about this time, Dad?" asked Brenda, my oldest daughter.
"She is going away for a one day conference and wanted me to go with her."
"Why aren't you going? You know you should go, Dad."
"Too late now. Their reservations had to be in a couple of days ago. Besides someone has to be here with you kids."
"That's crap, Dad. We'll be here alone till you get off work anyway. You should have gone, Dad; I'll side with Mom on this one."
The kid was right. It might not have been that big of a deal to me, but it might have meant a lot to Sandy. I wanted to apologize to her but she wouldn't listen. She told me to go find a slut and take my anxieties out on her.
"Well, go fuck your damn stranger. See if I care." Why was I saying this? Did I have a death wish for my marriage? I went to the bedroom door to apologize when I heard her crying from the inside. I just shook my head and slept on the couch. I figured I would talk with her first thing in the morning. I drank about six beers before passing out on the couch.
When I woke up the kids were eating breakfast. "Mom threw you out of the bedroom again, Dad? asked Bart.
"No, I just fell asleep here. Mom got up yet?"
"She's up and gone, Dad. She said to tell you she would probably call you tonight if you're home on time."
Shit, I did it; I sent my wife off mad and now she'll probably be mad for a week. Oh, well, not much I could do about it now. Boy, I sure wish I could take back all the things I said. I'm sure glad she's more level headed than me, but I think I was still worried.
I had an old truck I had been repairing and went out to work on it. It was just about ready to be sold. I was hoping to sell it but it had a few minor repairs that if I fixed it would sell faster. I figured if I worked on the truck it would take my mind off of Sandy. I finished up on the truck and headed for work.
It was the longest night of work for me. I wanted to get home so I would be there when Sandy called. I called the kids twice and asked if their mom called.
"Yeah, Dad, she did. She gave us her room number and said the dinner was great. She had prime rib or something. She said they were all going over to the lounge for awhile and said she would call you shortly after midnight. Dad, can you pick us up a pizza? We'll wait up for you," asked Connie.
"Okay, order it and I'll pick it up on the way home."
They were good kids. Most of the credit goes to Sandy. I might have been the financial supporter, but Sandy was the backbone of the family. She was one special woman.
I got home and handed the kids the pizza.
"Thanks, Dad, you're an okay guy," laughed Bart.
Just as I was asking if Sandy called, the phone rang. I quickly answered it.
"Hello," I answered.
"Hi, Honey, you missed a great dinner and my award acceptance."
"I'm sorry, Sandy, I should..."
.... There is more of this story ...