Two Conditions

by WaywardOne

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Cheating, Slut Wife, .

Desc: Sex Story: I had cheated on my wife, and I suspected that she had cheated on me. Now we were going to sit down for the BIG CONVERSATION, and I had no idea how it was going to turn out. [Author note: I'm not sure how to classify this one on amount of sex. It's really all about sex, but very little happens 'on camera.' There is some graphic dialog, though.]

We all think back, at times, on forks in our past, and wonder what our life might have held if we had taken a different path. This story explores an alternate fork that Richard might have taken in 'Truth and Consequences.' Would his life have been different if he had not told Nancy what the guys were going to try to do when they came to his house? You should probably read the first story in the Poker Plot series before you try this one, but you can skip 'Truth and Consequences' if mushy turns you off.

I came home from work with a knot in my belly that felt like it would be an ulcer before long. What was I going to do about my three horny buddies that would be arriving next week to play poker? They would be counting on playing a lot more than poker, because I had promised that I would disappear for the evening and leave them alone with my wife. Just two days ago we had been at Bob's house, and he had left us alone with Cindy. Oh, fuck, what a night that had been! Now it was my turn to slip out and, presumably, let them have their way with Nancy.

I told Nancy I had a stomach ache, couldn't eat anything, and was just going to bed. I spent the evening tossing and turning and trying feverishly to find some way out of this mess. We had all sworn solomnly that we wouldn't breathe a word to our wives about what was about to hit them. There was a little consolation in the other oath we had taken that the women were not to be coerced in any way, but not much, after the way we had managed to make Cindy a willing slut. Would Nancy be a willing slut, too, or would she be faithful to me?

After hours of agonizing, I decided it really came down to only one thing. I just screwed someone else's wife, and I'm hoping to screw two more. If Nancy wants to fuck their husbands, I've got no gripe coming. I am going to have to keep my trap shut, and let her make her own decision when the time comes. I finally fell asleep, satisfied that the only thing I could do was not do anything.

I managed to get through the week, though the knot in my belly never went away. I managed to avoid saying anything to Nancy about what was about to hit her, except to give her an affirmative nod when she asked if the guys were coming over on Tuesday, but I couldn't hide my distress from her. She kept mothering me all week, telling me that she was sure I wasn't well. I decided the best approach was to admit that I was a bit under the weather, but assure her there was nothing seriously wrong with me. She did finally get me to promise that I would make an appointment with my doctor.

Tuesday night finally arrived, and I managed to greet each of the guys at the door, though I was a total wreck inside, and couldn't look at their eyes. When Bob arrived he took one look at me, nodded, and said quietly, out of everyone's earshot, "I know what you're going through, Dick, but you can do it. Buck up."

That really did help, and I kept telling myself, 'He did it last week; You can do it, too. You owe it to him.'

What didn't help was that when Nancy brought out beer and pretzels I could see the guys trying to hide grins of anticipation. When she disappeared back into the kitchen, though, we settled down and started playing poker.

Soon the phone rang, and Nancy told me someone named Vince needed to talk to me. When I hung up I explained to everyone that we had an emergency at work, and I had to be there. I told Nancy not to wait up for me; that it was going to be a long night. As I walked out the door I heard her assuring the guys that of course they could stay and finish their game. She certainly wouldn't be saying that, I thought wryly, if she had any idea what sort of game they had in mind.

Naturally I didn't really go to the office. Instead I went to the nearest bar and started getting plastered. Nearest bar because I hoped to make it home without killing myself on the road. Plastered because I hoped it would dampen the thoughts swirling through my head and deaden the pain of the knot in my stomach. It turned out that the alcohol didn't have either of the desired effects. Instead I kept visualizing Nancy giggling as the guys teased her.

By now the clock behind the bar said nearly nine thirty. The gang had gotten to our house about eight o'clock, and I'd left maybe fifteen minutes later. Math had never been my strong suite, and my brain was befuddled enough to complicate things, but by using my fingers I managed to deduce that I'd been gone for an hour and a quarter.

I realized I was dying to know how much progress the guys had made with Nancy in that time. Maybe none, in which case her pussy would probably still be mine alone when the night was over. Maybe some, and the outcome was still uncertain. Maybe a lot ... Oh God, you think? I had to know; I just had to.

I climbed off the bar stool and discovered I could still walk. The cool breeze that hit my face when I walked outside helped clear the cobwebs, and I decided I could drive. 'Maybe, ' I thought as I neared the house, 'the guys have given up and already left.'

No such luck. There were three cars parked in front. 'I won't pull into the driveway, ' I told myself, 'I want to sneak up on them and see what is happening.' So I drove around the corner, parked, and walked back to the house.

We have a ranch-style house, all on the ground floor. The garage is attached, but sticks out partly in front of the right side of the house. The kitchen is behind it, with the living room on the left side and the bedrooms in the back. There is no dining room as such, but the kitchen is really a large kitchen/family room with a breakfast bar in the middle and space beyond it for a dining table.

To tell the truth, we eat all of our meals at the bar except when we have company, and Nancy often has papers and projects on the dining table. That was the case today, and besides, Nancy always wants to have the kitchen as a retreat when the poker gang comes over, so we had set up a card table in the living room for the game.

I figured I could peek through a small window at the side of the living room without getting caught. There were venetian blinds on it, but hopefully they wouldn't be too tightly closed to prevent seeing what was going on. I wasn't worried about being turned in as a Peeping Tom, because we have a six foot fence at the side of the house, and there is a six foot wooden gate at the front corner of the living room.

I managed to get through the gate and re-close the latch without making much noise. Now, about those blinds. I was in luck. They were tilted at an angle that prevented light from the ceiling fixture from streaming out, so I would be in relative darkness outside the window. But they were not completely closed, and I could easily see the card table, chairs, and the lower parts of the people in them.

My heart sank quickly. There were four chairs, but only two bodies. I had been crouched down, peering over the window sill. I stepped to one side and stood up, then leaned to peek in. Now I could see the two heads, and one of the faces. Bob was there, and that other head had to be Pete's, but where was Tom? I tried to convince myself that he had just gone to the john, but I wasn't buying it.

Bob and Pete were just sitting there talking and laughing, but I had to know where Tom - and most importantly, Nancy - were. I was about to sneak back to a bedroom window when Tom came out of the kitchen with a huge grin on his face. He gave the other guys a thumbs up, then seated himself and started shuffling the deck.

They had already finished the first bidding round and drawn replacement cards when Nancy peeked through the kitchen door. Pete saw her immediately and waved for her to come on in. She seemed a bit hesitant, but slid through the door. She was dressed as she had been when I left, a sweater and jeans with an apron tied around her waist.

Nancy walked over to the table, but didn't sit down, instead leaning on the back of the empty chair, and watching the pile of chips grow as the guys continued bidding. Bob finally won the hand and raked in the chips. Then he did something odd. He picked up three blue chips and held them out to Nancy.

At first she covered her face and shook her head, but Bob seemed to be trying to convince her of something, and finally she reached out for the chips and dropped them in her apron pocket. I hadn't noticed before, but that pocket was already bulging somewhat.

At that point Bob stood up, took her hand, and led her to the kitchen door. The instant the door swung shut behind them I took off as quickly as I could in the dark around the back of the house to the kitchen side. It wasn't easy. I nearly tripped on a garden hose, and I did give my shin a nasty whack on a wheelbarrow.

There's a sliding glass door from the family room out to a patio at the back corner of the house, and I figured I would have a great view from there if I could keep from being seen. It turned out being seen would be no problem, but seeing was. We have vertical blinds for that door, and for some reason they had been pulled clear across the door and completely closed. I went on around to the family room window at the side of the house that looks out on our little garden.

The venetian blinds were wide open here, which meant I had to be very careful not to be seen. I peeked cautiously from the side of the window, trying at the same time not to step on the newly sprouted green beans that Nancy and I had planted two weeks earlier.

I was too late. I saw Bob's back going out the kitchen door, as he returned to the other guys. Nancy had her back to me, watching Bob as he left. Then it clicked. Most of her back was bare. Her sweater was pushed up under her armpits. It seemed to be stretched even higher in front, which meant her bra was exposed. She was just standing there without moving, her hands pressed to her cheeks.

Finally she moved her hands down to her chest and clearly stroked herself a bit, then with a little shudder she pulled her sweater down. She leaned her head against the refrigerator, and seemed to be breathing a bit heavily. At last she turned to a chair, picked up her purse, pulled out her compact, and touched up her face.

After returning the compact to the purse and the purse to the chair she straightened up, pulled down her sweater all around, and peeked into the living room. In a moment she was gone, but I stayed where I was.

It seemed like forever, but I'm sure it wasn't very long before I saw the door swing open and Pete came through it with Nancy in tow. As soon as the door swung closed he pulled her to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and they started kissing. From the way her ass was wiggling it must have been a very passionate kiss.

Pete's hands moved from the small of her back down to her ass, then out and up to her hips, and kept moving up. They were sliding up her rib cage, now, pushing her sweater up ahead of them. The kiss continued, and seemed to be getting even more intense, and when his hands reached her bra I could see her ass cheeks clenching and relaxing rhythmically.

Pete finally broke the kiss and whispered something in her ear. She shook her head no, but he kept whispering. Finally he took one hand away from her bra and reached in his pocket. He pulled out two blue chips and brought them up to her cheek. Then he slid them down her neck, down to her breast where he seemed to rub them against her in a little circle, and on down to her naked belly, whispering all the time. She was quivering violently as he rubbed them up and down her belly, then pushed them even further down, over her apron.

He finally dropped them in her apron pocket and knelt in front of her. He pulled her tit to his mouth and started kissing or sucking or biting through her bra, I couldn't tell which. Whatever he was doing certainly got to her. She grabbed his head with both hands and pressed it against her boobs. Her head tilted back and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

He shifted to the other side and repeated his stimulation there with the same result. Then he pulled away and stood up. She lunged for him, pulled his face down to her, and kissed him wildly. Again he pulled away, whispered something, then turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Nancy clutched at her bra with her left hand and her crotch with the right. Her ass started pumping as her right hand moved frantically up and down. Soon that wasn't enough, and she tore at her jeans button and zipper with both hands. The jeans were tight, so they stayed at the top of her thighs even when unfastened, but I could see her pink panties from the back and see how the elastic was stretched down as she shoved her hand inside to frig herself.

It was over in less than a minute, and when I looked up I saw that she was biting a knuckle on her other hand to keep from screaming. She stood there panting for some time, and finally jerked her head up, looking at the door. I couldn't hear it, but I was sure they must have called her. She quickly pulled her pants up and fastened them, pulled down her sweater, and made a hasty exit to the living room.

She was obviously in deep trouble, and I was going to have to act quickly if I had any hope of saving her. I debated as to how I should proceed. I could wait until her next kitchen visitor left and then tap on the window, but if I did that she would know I had been peeping; not to mention that she would realize I had just let her do god knows what without intervening.

Maybe I should go back to my car, bring it home, then walk in the front door explaining that I got the problem solved much more quickly than I had expected. Nancy would buy that, but the guys would never forgive me. I tried to imagine how I would have felt if Bob had walked into the house last week and caught Cindy and me French kissing. I probably would have killed the guy the next chance I got.

No, a phone call seemed to be the only way out. And since we have Caller ID, it was going to have to be a call from my office. So much for saving her quickly.

I certainly did act quickly, though; letting myself out through the gate on that side of the house and sprinting back to the car. I'm glad no cops saw me as I roared to the office. It only took me ten minutes to get there, a new record that is unlikely to ever be broken.

The phone rang ... and rang ... and rang. Pick it up, Nancy! this may be the most important phone call in your life!

"Hello?" Her voice sounded breathless, and she obviously hadn't taken time to look at the Caller ID information.

"Hi, Nancy, I am buried here, but I keep thinking about you, and worrying. Are the guys still there?"

"Oh, hi, Dick! I picked it up without seeing who it was."

She paused at that point, but I waited to see if she would answer my question. She finally did.

"What were you asking? Oh, right, if the guys were still here. Yes, they are. They're still ... playing poker."

"Look, hon, I know those guys. They can be kind of wild sometimes. I wish I had told them ... or at least suggested strongly ... that they should have gone home when I had to leave."

"Oh, well, actually, when you left I told them they were welcome to stay. It seemed like the only polite thing to do."

"Yeah, I don't blame you, but I don't really trust them. There are three of them, and only one of you. What if they tried to force you to ... do something?"

"You're sweet, Dick, but please don't worry. You've been gone, what, nearly two hours, and they haven't ... well ... I haven't been forced to do anything. I'm sure they wouldn't do that. I mean, they know they couldn't get away with it, because I'd tell you."

"True. Thanks, hon, I feel a lot better. I guess I was being silly. I know I can trust you, even if I don't trust them."

"OK, Dick, get back to work. But I am very glad you called."

"I will. I think I can concentrate a lot better on this problem now. Oh, can I ask one thing? Don't tell the guys I called. They would razz me no end about it, calling me jealous and accusing me of not trusting you. OK?"

"Sure. I love you."

"I love you."

Hopefully that would do the trick. Obviously my goal was to interrupt the sexy cycle the guys had set up and remind Nancy that she loved me. I was going to have to come home very late, as planned, so I probably wouldn't know until tomorrow whether my scheme had succeeded.

Indeed, when I finally slipped into the bedroom a little after 1 AM Nancy was asleep, so I climbed into bed as gently as I could.

I lay awake for a long time wondering what had happened after I quit peeping, and running her words over and over in my mind: "You've been gone, what, nearly two hours, and they haven't ... well ... I haven't been forced to do anything."

I knew perfectly well that they had done some things without needing to force her; I saw that with my own eyes. The question was how much, both before I called and after. But I wasn't going to be able to answer those questions without getting help from her, or perhaps the guys, so I finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

I overslept in the morning, and when I woke Nancy was nowhere around; not in the bed and not in the bathroom. I had a moment of panic. Had she left me? I staggered down the hall toward the front of the house, and heard noises coming from the kitchen. Thank God! Ashamed of my suspicions I snuck back to the bedroom, got dressed quickly, shaved, brushed my teeth, and combed my hair. When I came out again she had breakfast ready.

"Good morning," I said, "I didn't hear the alarm go off."

"I turned it off," she explained. "You had to work so late I thought you would need some extra sleep. Surely your boss will cut you a little slack if you come in late this morning."

I couldn't make up my mind whether she was being sincere or sarcastic, but I didn't have time to talk to her. I only knew I needed to get to work as quickly as possible, since my boss had no reason at all to cut me any slack. I wolfed down my eggs and toast and headed out the door with a coffee cup still in my hand. I did at least have the presence of mind to thank her and wish her a good day.

On my way home I was mulling over how I would get her to talk about what had happened last night, but she took charge of things the moment I walked in the door. She was sitting on the sofa, and told me to come sit down with her. I started to sit next to her, but she pointed to the other end of the sofa, fully three feet from where she was sitting. This was not a good sign.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I want you to tell me what happened a week ago when you told me you went to play poker," she responded.

Oh, oh, this sounded like real trouble. But maybe she's just fishing.

"Well, uh, I did lose some money, but it wasn't a lot. Only about ten dollars. Sometimes I win a little and sometimes I lose a little, but we never play for high stakes, so please don't worry about it."

"That's not the part I wanted to hear about. What else happened?"

"What do you mean? We played poker. We always play poker."

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Cheating / Slut Wife /