The Decision

by Matt Moreau

Caution: This Romantic Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Cheating, Cuckold, Slow, .

Desc: Romantic Story: She tries to get him to swing, bad news.

"Gary, we've talked this over a thousand times, and you know it," she said.

"No, Claire, you've brought it up a thousand times; time and again you've brought it up; but I have never bought into it. You know I wouldn't be able to deal with an open marriage kind of thing; it's not in me, Claire. Can't we just love each other, and make love to each other like normal people do?" I said.

She came to me. "We are normal people, Gary. And, we do make love to each other, wonderful love. But this would be good for you too. Don't you see that? You could have some strange on the side. I could have some strange on the side. It could be intoxicating," she said.

"Claire, I would never cheat on you. Never!" I said. "I don't need strange on the side; you are more than enough for me!"

"It wouldn't be cheating, dear. It would be with my full permission. It would have no affect on us or our marriage or any of it. It would just be fun for the occasional evening out," she said. I thought it significant that she avoided my protestation that she was enough for me. It occurred to me that I must not be enough for her, and the thought hurt.

"Anyway, Claire, no woman would want an old goat like me," I said. "Except maybe you." I looked down and wondered if she cared at all about me sexually anymore. I was mortally afraid of the answer to that question. She saw through me and tried to calm my fears.

"Don't sell yourself short, honey. You are quite a man. A lot of women would be tickled to death to have an evening with you," she said, giggling now. I wasn't laughing; I wanted to cry.

I suppose I should introduce us. I'm Gary Sanders. As you have no doubt gathered, Claire is my wife of twenty-three years. Me? Five-seven, one-sixty, slightly balding, and pushing fifty. Claire: five —five, one-ten, tawny hair and a lot of it, age forty-four but looking thirty-four. I work for a small machine shop and pull down 40K annual; that, plus the benefit package has been enough for us. Claire, for her part, doesn't work, but she's a top notch homemaker; at least she is in my opinion. Oh, and no kids.

Getting a man to fuck Claire would not be a problem. Again, me? Well, it might be a problem, even if I wanted to, and I sure as heck didn't want to. I was frightened; I could see us being hurt bad by this stuff she was talking to me about.

She came and put her arms around me and kissed me. Man, how I loved this woman; I just didn't understand her anymore though. I sure as hell didn't want to share her. "Tell you what, Gary, to make it easy for you in the beginning; I will take it upon myself to get you a woman whenever I get me a man. How would that be? Then these silly insecurities of yours won't even have to be entered into," she said.

Talk about humiliating! My wife was actually suggesting she would get a girl for me, probably one of her friends, I supposed, because she totally knew I'd probably have a tough time even trying to find someone to date me; I was just too ordinary to play these kinds of games. I wasn't going for it.

"Honey, I just can't. I don't even know how to date anymore. And, don't stand there and tell me it's just like riding a bicycle," I said. "I only want you."

"Husband mine. It's time to make a decision here, and I'm making it. You have nothing to fear. I will take care of everything," she said. And, that was that. I continued to plead and beg and even cry for a little while longer; but in the end the decision had been made. For her part, she giggled and comforted me and made a strenuous, completely unsuccessful, effort to allay my fears. Then we went to bed. The sex that night was good and I hoped enough for her, but deep down I knew it wasn't; she was still committed to her fantasies.

Nothing was said let alone discussed over the next several days. It was Saturday when she hit me with it.

"Honey, tonight's the night. I want you to dress cowboy style. We're going out," she said. I swallowed and nodded somberly. "Come on, big guy, it'll be fun. And besides, maybe nothing will happen. But if it does, we'll both have a ton of fun and a lot to talk about for quite a while," she said. I was literally shaking in my cowboy boots and I didn't even have them on yet.

She spent half the day getting ready to go out. She spent a significant part of the other half getting me ready. She showered with me, dressed my hair, dressed me, and inspected me. I think she was getting ready to have me douche when she remembered that I was a guy! I was going out, but I wasn't looking forward to it; it was humiliating. Claire, on the other hand, was buoyant.

We arrived at the Hole in the Wall Bar and Grill and dance hall at about eight o'clock. Things were just getting started. We'd already eaten at our favorite restaurant in town, and we, or at least I, was nervous as hell; I did not want to be here.

I had gone to get us our second round of drinks, and I was on my way back, when I saw a cowboy—well, he was dressed like a cowboy—ask my wife to dance. She smiled in my direction, but I just gave her what I knew was a weak and tentative nod. Our table was toward the back of the place, and I lost sight of her for some little time as she did not return for several dance tunes. Finally, she did.

"Hi Gary, sorry I disappeared for so long. Several different guys asked me to dance, and well ... Anyway, I'd like to introduce you to Ann."

Greetings done, Ann did her best to engage me in conversation. I finally realized that this was a woman that my wife had talked into being with me for the evening. Claire stayed with us laughing and carrying on, mostly with Ann, until she felt that it was safe enough to leave me to my own devices. I was sure they had had more than a few girls' nights out together.

"Well, Gary, and I hope you don't mind. Claire said you wouldn't mind taking me home when we're done tonight. That's okay, right?" said Ann.

"Uh—sure. That will be fine," I said. I was wondering how my wife intended getting home. But, it soon dawned on me that if she did get home tonight it would be in some other guy's car. I was not feeling very good. Add to that that I already felt like a cheater, nothing Claire had said to the contrary withstanding.

To her credit, I thought, Ann was doing her best to make me feel at ease. "Why don't we get some air?" she said.

"Good idea," I said. We headed outside. Boy, did I need to get out of there. The few glimpses I had had of Claire after she had left our table did not exactly make me feel good.

"Where's your car?" she said. I pointed. "Let's head over there, okay?"

"Sure, I suppose," I said. I didn't know what the attraction of my car was, but at least we'd be out and away from all of the foot traffic milling around us. I really, really wanted to be somewhere else. Ann might have been one of Claire's friends, and she might be into whatever—well—whatever the two of them had cooked up; but I wasn't. I was trying to come up with a way to let her down gently. That soon became a non-issue.

At the car, she suddenly leaned in on me and kissed me. Not a peck on the cheek mind you, but a full blown, down and dirty, you better believe it sensual kiss. For the life of me my johnson was rising to the occasion. She noticed and smiled.

"looks like you like me," she said, laughing. I smiled back.

"Hard not to," I said, trying to sound casual. I was uncomfortable as hell, but awfully horny at the same time.

"Let's get inside and get comfortable, okay?" She said. I keyed the door to the back seat and let her slide in ahead of me. What the hell was I doing! Hell, I was playing along with Claire's ideas just as she probably knew I would. I wanted to kick myself in the ass.

Soon we were making out pretty good. I still wasn't all that comfortable with the situation, but my little head was making the decisions for me at the moment, and there was no stopping him now. Anyway, Claire'd said it was all right, and she was the boss.

"Why don't we get a little more comfortable," she said. She began unbuttoning her blouse—slowly. I watched spellbound as her braless tits spilled out in full view of my lustful gaze.

"Jesus," I said. "They're beautiful." They were too.

"Well, thank you," she said. She pulled back for a moment and smiled. "Just one pop, okay. And, you need to wear this." She handed me a condom.

"One pop?" I said, not immediately understanding.

"Yes, that's all that's covered for the price," she said. In that moment all interest in having sex with her or anyone else died. I was sick with humiliation and profound sadness. This was no girlfriend of my wife's, as I had supposed. My wife had hired a prostitute to do me and keep me quiet, and as she no doubt saw it, satisfied. My twenty year marriage was suddenly in ruins. But as bad as it was, worse was in the offing.

"Uh—Ann..." I said.

"Hmm?" she said, smiling.

"My wife hired you? I mean paid you to have sex with me?" I said.

She looked at me strangely. "Uh-oh, you didn't know about this did you?" she said.

"No. I think you need to go back inside," I said. I can't do this. "I—I—I have to go."

"No refunds, you understand that, right?" she said.

"Yes, I understand. Please just go," I choked.

"Okay, Gary. I'm sorry. I thought you knew. Your wife said you were cool with it. But you weren't were you? Well, good luck," she said. I was already crying. She noticed and hurried out and away buttoning her blouse as she went.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Cheating / Cuckold / Slow /