Chapter 7

In the morning Arthur woke up to the thrill of Mary’s mouth on his cock. It didn’t take long for him to respond, turning on the bed and going sixty-nine with her. With last night’s activity, Mary’s pussy had been saturated with his cum and now, its taste was tart and musky. As his wife shuddered in orgasm, he felt pleased that they had gotten to the point where they could get each other off concurrently. Amazed by how much of a load he could still muster after his balls had had such a workout the night before which was also aggravated by the amount of time he was hard at the table as well as being erect while dancing with Amanda ... and Olivia.

Having slept late they decided that rather than attending church they would exhaust any sexual energy that was left over from last night. They both laughed at how they had fucked continually for a full year after their wedding. But their studied knowledge of the ins and outs of having sex was far better due to the wisdom they had gained throughout their marriage. It was one o’clock in the afternoon when they woke up again. Cuddling, neither was interested in further sex. Arthur broke the silence. “Maybe I’m wrong, sweetie but I think there might be something going on between the Firestones, Olivia, and Sandor.”

Mary’s mind recaptured the image of Sandor standing naked over her at the Blackthorn Hotel, menacing her with his massive cock while she was sucking Tony Firestone’s. Though her pussy had just been well exercised by Arthur’s cock she remembered how Sandor’s huge penis opened her cunt like it was fresh sod on the plains. Mentally she winced, thinking how much it would irritate her abraded vagina to have Sandor inside her right now. She was glad that Arthur’s penis fit so comfortably and thought, If they had cocks like Arthur’s, they could fuck me perpetually with no irritation. But I love the adventure of the nasty wholeness of the thing.

“I don’t know baby,” Mary answered, “They could be, I suppose.” She had hoped that their wild night of sex, the wildest they had had yet, would allow them to open the subject that Amanda had introduced last night. She thought I might as well give it a stab and offered, “Amanda, and I have been talking quite a bit about that subject, Arthur.”

Raising his eyebrows Arthur said, “Really?” He was pleased that sexual conversation had become so much easier for them.

“Yes. Amanda confided in me that they became involved in a swingers club before she and Tony moved to Denver, but it was too awkward for them, though, and they stopped.”

“Jesus,” Arthur said, “I’ve heard about swinging clubs but have always thought they were a myth.”

She went on, “But they were close to an older couple who Amanda said were in ‘the life’ for a lot of years.”

“Swinging?”

“Mm-hm. She told me that the way the older couple introduced them swinging made it seem to flow quite naturally. She said they are like family. They live in Denver and get together once a month. As for Amanda and Olivia though, they are oil and water. They might be involved in some way, but I don’t think they are in THAT way.”

“It appears to me that Amanda is pretty open with you,” Arthur said. “Sharing secrets like these is pretty unusual don’t you think?”

“I’ve never been this close to ANY woman, sweetie ... EVER.”

Wondering about the suspicions he had Arthur thought, Should I change the subject? but decided to press on. “It’s gotten more than close, Mary, hasn’t it?”

“Why do you say MORE than close?” Mary said.

“It’s the way I see you two looking at each other. Like you’re dreaming of something.”

Unaware that her snippy reactions were coming across as protest she asked, “And just what do you mean by THAT?”

Arthur didn’t want to upset his wife. At the same time though, he wanted to be honest. “I can’t explain it, Mary. But if I didn’t know differently, I would suspect that you and Amanda are more than friends ... more like uh lovers.”

How can I deny it? Do I want to? Mary was mulling what might be at stake. This is a perfect opportunity to share at least some of my baggage. Will he understand? He’s so much more open lately. But will he understand?

“Last night,” Arthur said, “when I told you that Amanda grabbed my cock under the table it was as if you were trying to explain it away to um ... minimize her actions ... like you were being defensive on her behalf. You jerked me under the table just a little before she did honey. Did the two of you plan it?”

Her voice sounded stressed when she said, “We didn’t PLAN anything, Arthur. “I told you what a tease Amanda could be. I’m not responsible for her actions. Did you feel VIOLATED or something?”

The girl he had married, and the woman Mary had become—the prim church lady—would have been incensed that Amanda had jerked him off under the table. She would have been upset with her friend for taking such personal liberties with her husband. But with the new Mary, it was a matter of fact, as if she were happy with what her friend had done. The window of possibilities opened further, possibilities that were turning him on.

To Mary, it was a door of opportunity not just a window. Curiously, with what she was prepared to tell her husband there was no sense of guilt, only a growing feeling of necessity that might relieve a burden. Her husband’s sexual emergence was more than she could have hoped for. With a sense of remorse, she thought, had it been this way all along there would have been no relationship with Amanda, Corey, Lee, Tony, and Sandor. She was glad that it was turning out this way.

Mary Wilhelm becoming her husband’s sexual mentor was a conscious act. Not only did she want a better sex life at home. She also wanted to lure him into the sexual potpourri she was enjoying with Amanda, Tony, and the boys. She wanted him there with them. Now that he was tottering on the wall, she was looking for an answer

Jesus Christ, he thought, they ARE getting it on. The delicious image of his wife’s elegant body on top of what he envisioned Amanda’s, going sixty-nine, eating each other’s pussies opened his mind to an image he had experienced for himself.

It cost the company four hundred dollars ... in New Orleans. He was with his best customer who wanted to watch two hookers doing each other. At first, when the customer told him what he wanted Arthur felt uncomfortable. But as the two gorgeous hookers, the image, of which now became Mary and Amanda performed such exotic acts on one another his discomfort heightened to titillation. In New Orleans, he sat on the couch next to his customer. Both, like teenage boys at a circle jerk, jacked off while watching. Together, they ended up in bed with the hookers, being sucked by and fucking them. His wife’s silence made him feel safe allowing him to tell his wife of his transgressions. He needed to get them out in the open and had the feeling that Mary would welcome his honesty. If he were right, he thought she might share with him some of hers. If not, there could be weeks of repercussions. But he didn’t want to waste the opportunity.

She was snuggled into his warm body thinking how she would love to have Arthur ravish her. Just as she was getting ready to grab his penis again and knead it into a cock he blurted, “I guess, Mary, everybody’s done something they are not proud of.”

“I understand, sweetie,” she said. “We can’t all be angels all of the time,” thinking, what could my unadventurous husband have done? “Sometimes sweetie, she said, “you get caught up in things that you would rather not do. And you find it hard to get out of.”

With this kind of accepting opening, he told her how the customer—his biggest—asked to see two prostitutes together, and how he had arranged it with the bell captain ... how it made him feel sleazy. “But when the two women took off all their clothes and started eating each other’s pussy I got excited and lost control. She tried to imagine her controlled husband losing it, the man she had just brought into the sexual twenty-first century. It wasn’t like the Arthur she had known over the years—her staid, reserved Arthur. She tried to imagine the two women and what he was doing when he watched them. Thoughts of her husband in that situation opened a flood. It was as if someone had just sprayed her pussy with something warm and slippery.

“Are you surprised at me, Mary?” He heard no response. “Are you upset?” no response. “The funny thing is, while I was watching I was imagining you.”

“You imagined me with another woman?” She tried to sound surprised that he would suggest it, asking, “And what were you and your friend doing when the um ladies were performing?”

“I’m ashamed to tell you.”

“Well, sweetie,” she said with sarcastic inflection, “you weren’t ashamed to bring it up. So why are you ashamed to tell the rest of the story?” She stopped cuddling and created space between them. “What were you doing?”

“It’s been bothering me, Mary. I didn’t want to keep it to myself anymore. I was um masturbating.”