When I was in high school, I really got into Penthouse Letters magazine. The stories about wives who had sex with other men used to turn me on something fierce. I had a couple of girlfriends my last two years of school, and I used to hint to them that if they wanted to play around with other guys it would be okay with me, so long as they told me about it. Of course they both told me I was weird. As if I didn’t already know that.

While I was going with one of those girls, I caught her giving a blowjob to some guy at a party. I had just opened the door a crack as I’d seen her go into the bedroom with the guy. I had waited a few minutes, hoping she would have some kind of sex with the guy. Sure enough, my timing was perfect. He was sitting in an overstuffed chair and she was on her knees gobbling him. My stomach sank but my heart leapt. It was way hot. She had apparently heard the door squeak so she turned her head and saw me there. She just waved to me to go away while keeping the cock in her mouth. I wanted to keep watching as I had dreamed of such a situation, but I didn’t want to piss her off. I quickly closed the door and went back to the party. She came out about ten minutes later and I approached her with a smile on my face. She said, “You can stop smiling, Roger, we’re done.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you and I are done, fini, kaput!”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re fucking weird! I’ll be riding home with Harold.”

And that was the end of the relationship; just as it was getting really good. I never mentioned my fetish to the next few girlfriends I had after high school; I didn’t dare.

Then I met June. I was twenty and she was eighteen, just out of high school. Every day I went into the candy shop where she worked, just to look at her. She was slim, fairly tall at 5’8”, with brown eyes and a sweet smile in a beautiful face. One day, she asked me why I came into the shop every day. I couldn’t come up with an answer so, after a moment’s fruitless thought, I said, “To look at you.”

She broke into a gorgeous smile and laughed. “Well why don’t you ask me out then?”

Honesty had gotten me this far, so, “Because you’re obviously way out of my league.”

“No girl is out of your league if you show some interest in her.”

“Really?”

“Of course! We all want someone to show an interest in us, don’t we?”

“Well, yeah, I guess we do.”

“So...”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to assume you’re not really as thick as you’re acting right now. So, why don’t you ask me out?”

“Oh, so ... would you like to go out some time?”

She playfully punched my shoulder and said, “Duh! Yes.”

I was a lousy date, I’m sure, because it was some time before I got over being tongue tied around her. Fortunately, she loved to talk, turned every observance or anecdote into an interesting story, and I found her very easy to listen to. By our third date, we were French kissing while we felt each other up over our clothes. By our fifth date we were fucking like rabbits. I was a very, very happy guy; my gorgeous new girlfriend loved to fuck, and usually sucked me for a few minutes first to get me extra hard.

Of course I toyed with daydreams of my new girlfriend and my favorite fetish, but I didn’t dare say anything. I certainly didn’t want to lose her. I found myself falling in love with her.

I had a good job working in a lumber yard, with pretty good pay and decent benefits. So, after we had dated for about six months, I asked her to marry me. It may sound strange, but I was kind of surprised when she said yes, because I was still trying to understand why she was with an average Joe like me.

After we married, the apartment we rented was pretty crappy because it was all we could afford. However, with paint, paper, and elbow grease, we made it livable. Of course, being newlyweds, we spent a great deal of time in the bedroom. We had only been married about two months when my fetish began to rear its ugly head. Whether I was doing her or jacking off alone, I found myself thinking of June with other guys.

One night we were at a small gathering at a friend’s house and drinking a few beers. June got a little tipsy and started flirting with one of the single guys in the kitchen. I was at the other end of the room and couldn’t take my eyes off them. I was smiling when June took the guy’s hand and headed toward the center of the room where another couple was dancing. When she saw me watching them, and smiling, she smiled back at me and raised her eyebrows as if to question me. I nodded and winked at her. She gave the guy a quick peck on the lips and started dancing with him.

A little later she wandered into the living room with the guy while I continued to chat with a couple buddies. I was dying of curiosity but I didn’t want to appear to be hovering so I waited a good ten minutes before I walked into that next room. There was a small group chatting so I joined in. I wanted to give the impression that I was cool with my wife sitting in this guy’s lap in an easy chair. In fact, I was so turned on that my heart was beating a hundred miles an hour. June was wearing shorts and this guy had his hand on her bare thigh with a couple fingers up under the shorts. She seemed to be ignoring it.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, June turned to the guy and said, “Let’s go out and get some fresh air.” They got up and left the room holding hands. Jesus, was I cranked up! It was almost like a dream come true. Naturally my mind was motoring in overdrive thinking of what my wife might be doing with that guy outside. While the house had fairly close neighbors, the grass backyard was small and led to a thickly wooded area. I waited ten minutes or so and then went out the back to see if I could see anything. I walked to the end of the grass backyard and a little way into the woods, but I neither saw nor heard any sign of them. I contemplated going further into the woods but decided that if they were there they would probably see or hear me before I saw them. After ten minutes or so I reluctantly went back into the house. June and her friend were not there, and I was a sweaty bundle of nerves wondering where they were and what they were up to.

It was over a half hour later when they came back into the house via the back door. I naturally assumed that they had been far into the woods when I had been out back. When she saw me, June put her hands on her friend’s shoulders and kissed him; a bit more lingering than that first kiss. Then she turned and walked to me, smiling. “Honey, I’m a little tired. Can we go home now?”

“Okay. But what’s got you tired out?”

“Oh, James and I took a long walk.”

“Out in the woods?”

“No, down the street.”

“But I saw you go out the back door.”

“Oh?” She smiled. “Were you spying on me?”

“No, I just happened to see you go that way.” She chuckled, “Just happened to see, huh? Were you hoping to see more?”

I grinned. “Maybe.”

“You would have liked that?” I just shrugged, still wearing a shit-eating grin. She added, “Well, you didn’t miss anything. When we saw how small the backyard was, we went by the side of the house to the street so we could take a walk and talk.”

“And what did you talk about?” “Well, mostly about how surprised I was that you seemed to be enjoying my flirting with him.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. And James explained that some men get turned on by their wives fooling around. I’d never heard of that. Is that true, honey?”

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“So, I guess now I know how to get a rise out of you, huh?”

“Hmm, maybe.” I wasn’t sure the time was right to come clean.

As we drove home, June reopened the discussion. “So, honey, nothing happened tonight, but would you really like it if it had?”

“Probably.”

“But you’re not sure?”

“Well, I guess I couldn’t be real sure until it happened.”

“Hmm. Well, I can tell you that it almost did, tonight.” She laughed. “Marcie told me a while ago that James, the guy I was with, has a big cock. Naturally I was curious. I half-seriously considered offering him a blow job so I could get to see it. To be honest, if I’d had another beer or two, I quite possibly would have.”

“Really?”

“I’m probably telling you more than I should here. Now maybe you won’t trust me in the future.” She started running her hand up and down my thigh as I drove. “Or maybe you don’t want to trust me? Could that be the case, lover?”

“That could be the case.”

“Well, I’ll have to think about that.”

“Will you tell me if anything happens?”

“I will if you’ll promise not to get mad when I tell you.”

It was the moment of truth. I hesitated. “I promise.”

“Oh! This is exciting. I think you’re going to have to give me a good fucking when we get home.”

I did. In fact, from my point of view, it was probably the best sex we had ever had as my mind ran through numerous sex filled fantasies as we fucked.

No more was said about the issue over the next couple weeks, then the dam broke one evening just as we were crawling into bed. June said, “Honey, you know what we talked about a while ago, about something happening?”

I jerked my head around to look at her. “Did it!?”

“Maybe.”

“But you promised you’d tell me if it did!”

“I never said I’d tell you immediately, nor am I saying anything has happened. I just wanted to ask you a question.”

“What?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it since we talked. How would you feel if I had a boyfriend?”

“Are you serious?”

“That’s why I’m asking. You did say that you would probably like it if something was happening. So how would you feel about that?”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Is it James? That guy you were with at the party?”

“No, it’s not James.”

“It’s not one of my friends, is it?”

She turned her eyes toward the ceiling and thought. Then she said, “Well, not really.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I was feeling a touch of anger that she was being less than forthcoming.

“Well, he’s not primarily a friend. Can we let it go at that? Or should we just forget the whole thing?”

Uh oh, was I about to shoot myself in the foot here with my objection? Couldn’t I afford to lose this battle if I won the war? “No, I’m sorry. I’m just curious who it is that you’re talking about for a boyfriend.”

“I’m not ready to tell you that. Maybe later.”

“Well, can’t you at least tell me if anything has happened, anything at all?”

“Yes. We’ve been talking ... and stuff. But we haven’t gone all the way.”

“What do you mean by ‘and stuff?’”

“I’m not telling, just yet. Just use your imagination and fuck me now.” With that, she got up on one elbow, wrapped her other arm around me and gave me a very wet, tongue invasive kiss. All this very sexy talk had made me more than ready, so I followed her advice and turned my imagination loose as I climbed between her legs.

Naturally, I thought about this discussion many times over the next few weeks, and wondered how to proceed. Ultimately, I decided I would just let it go and let her bring it up when she was ready. She had resurrected the issue the last time, after all, and had even admitted the ‘and stuff.’ I was pretty sure something was happening; I just wasn’t sure what, or with who. She had seemed more eager to have sex with me lately, and she had begun to leave the house occasionally in the evenings, or on weekends, claiming she was going to see her brother.

After about six weeks had passed, I began to think my plan of leaving it to her to bring up the topic wasn’t going to work. So, as we crawled into bed one night, I turned her face toward me, kissed her, and said, “Honey, we have to talk.”

“Uh oh, I knew this was coming.”

“Well it’s about time you came straight with me, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. What do you want to know?”

“Let’s get right to the point, then. Do you have a boyfriend yet?”

“Yes.”

Even though I was pretty sure that was the case, I was shocked. “Who is he?”

“I’m not ready to tell you that.”

“Why? What’s the big secret?”

“Someday you’ll understand.”

“So I’m just supposed to wait for ‘someday?’”

“You’ll be shocked.”

“June, this isn’t fair. I’ve left you free to have a boyfriend, practically encouraged it, and you’re giving me nothing. Now who is it?”

She was quiet for a bit, then said, “Jonas.”

“Jonas? Your brother Jonas?!”

“Yes. Now don’t judge me. You don’t know our history, and you’re kinda weird yourself, wanting me to be with other guys.”

“Okay. So tell me about this history.”

“Okay. If you really want to know. When I got to be a freshman in high school, and Jonas was a sophomore, he used to come home frustrated from dates because he wasn’t getting any. I had always idolized him. Not only had he always been nice to me, while my friends fought with their brothers, but he was also the handsomest boy in school. Even my girlfriends were in love with him. So, one night, I sat down beside him on the bed and said I’d like to help him with his problem. He didn’t know what I meant until I put my hand on his pants and squeezed a couple times. He said he didn’t think we should do that, but I said ‘Please?’ and unzipped him. When I got it out of his pants, I told him I thought it was really handsome and I’d really like to make him feel better. He didn’t stop me, though he kept saying we shouldn’t be doing this, and all the while I’m giving him a hand job, and loving it.”

“Wow!”

“Yeah, wow. Anyway, after that, after he came home from dates, and some other times too, I would climb into his bed and give him hand jobs. One night I was just dying to taste him, so I took him in my mouth and sucked. He said we shouldn’t be doing this, but he didn’t stop me. After that, I soon learned that I had to be cagey to get him to let me suck him off. I knew he always felt guilty about it, but if I asked in a way he found sexy, he would let me. I would have to say things like, “please, can I suck it, pretty please?” or, “Jonas, I’d be so grateful if you’d let me suck your handsome cock. I really want your cum in my mouth. Please?”