Life of the Mainwarings
Chapter 5: Consequences
Copyright© 2017 by Thomas Antonson
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5: Consequences - Sean and Pamela have been married for 40 years. Newly fit and with a restored libido, Sean's sexual demands have become too much for his wife, who suggests he take his pleasure elsewhere -- with a catch. She gets to pick the partners. Much sex and just a little drama.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction MaleDom Rough Spanking Interracial Black Female White Male White Female Oriental Female Cream Pie Oral Sex
“Explain what?” Pamela asked in a light tone, trying to avoid the topic of what had just transpired. She knew it was a lost cause.
Sean snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Wasn’t that intense though? When was the last time you came that hard? I’m still all tingly from it,” Pamela said.
“Explain how you ended up in bed with me and Darla. You’ve never done any girl-girl sex in your life – at least none you’ve ever told me about. All of a sudden you’re going face first between another woman’s legs. She wasn’t even surprised to see you, which suggests that the two of you weren’t strangers. THAT, among other things, requires an explanation.”
“I didn’t hear you objecting.”
“That’s not the point. How did this come about, no pun intended.”
Pamela sighed. Well, here goes nothing, she thought.
“I told you about my college roommate? Sigrid? The Swedish exchange student?”
“Yes, you told me about your college roommate.”
“Remember, I told you how I got drunk a few times and I let Sigrid do things to me? Things that felt really good. I never reciprocated, but I enjoyed what she did to me. I passed it off as a drunken fling but for the past year or so I’ve begun to play the ‘what if’ game. What if I HAD reciprocated? Would I have enjoyed it? Had I missed an opportunity to learn something about my sexuality?”
“Uh-huh. So explain how we got from that to what happened here tonight.”
“Well, you remember Darla’s profile, right? She lists herself as bisexual. And, well, when I met her for the initial screening meeting, we got to talking.”
“Why does there have to be an ‘and’?”
“Because there is. I know you, Pamela. You’re holding something back and I want to know what it is. We agreed that there would be no secrets.”
“Yes, dear, we did.”
“God, this is hard. Darla and I had a couple of drinks and we talked and then we ended up in a hotel room where we, um, did it, while you were banging that sweet young thing we brought home the first time.”
“So, let me get this straight, no pun intended. After setting ground rules stipulating that there would be no secrets, that neither of us would be fooling around behind the other’s back, you went out and fucked another woman without telling me. Does that about cover it?”
“Technically, yes, it does,” Pamela replied. She couldn’t look Sean in the eye. This had all gone horribly, awfully, wrong.
“Technically my ass. You were all worried that because you didn’t want to have sex as much as I did that I’d be out prowling for pussy, so you set this whole thing up so that I’d get something you thought I wanted and there would be no secrets. Now it turns out that I was the one who should have been worried.”
“Sean ... I ... I’m sorry. It wasn’t something that I planned. I just had to know.”
“Had to know what?”
“When you lost all that weight and got back into shape you started wanting to make love to me all the time and I didn’t want to. I had started thinking about Sigrid and our drunken grope sessions, wishing I had reciprocated. It shocked me. I was worried that the reason I didn’t want to have sex with you several times a day was that I was becoming attracted to other women. When I saw Darla’s profile and the checkbox for bisexual filled in it got me thinking. Could I be attracted to another woman? I wanted to talk to her about it. Just talk. I never intended for anything to come of it. I just wanted to talk to another woman about these feelings that I have. I never intended to hurt you or go behind your back. I was going to talk to you about it. But I decided, wrongly as it turned out, that it might be fun to surprise you with something that most men would find thrilling. I’m sorry, Sean. I really am.”
“So ... are you?”
“Am I what?”
“How can you ask that after what we just did?”
“I am asking it.”
“The answer is no. But I really enjoyed sex with Darla, so I guess that makes me bi-sexual at any rate.”
“I see,” Sean said. He was silent for a moment. “So ... are you going to continue to fuck Darla?”
“There’s no need to be so crude, darling,” Pamela replied, “but, yes, I think I’d like to if it’s OK with you, that is.”
“So NOW you ask me if it’s OK? You broke our agreement –”
“I didn’t intend –”
“You broke our agreement,” Sean repeated, holding up his hand, “and went behind my back to have sex with someone else and now you’re asking me to say that was OK. I remember you telling me that sex outside of our marriage vows was OK as long as it happened in THIS (he pointed at their bed) bed, which obviously your little tryst didn’t. You say you didn’t mean to, which has to be the lamest excuse in the history of excuses – right up there with ‘gee officer I didn’t know the bow and arrow was loaded’ – and now that you’ve had to confess you think it should just be OK with me. Well, it isn’t.”
“Sean, please. Don’t be this way. I wanted to know what was wrong with me.”
“There was nothing wrong with you. Sixty-year-old women don’t generally want to have sex several times a day. I knew that. I was perfectly happy wanking to porn in between the times you and I could make love, and I wanted you to know that I still desired you after 40 years of marriage. Most women would be flattered. I know it irritated you that I was constantly pestering you for sex, and I’m sorry about that, but I’ve never wanted another woman the way I want you and it never occurred to me to bring someone else into our bed. That was your idea.”
“Sean, you’re being unfair. I wanted you to be satisfied. Wanking to porn wasn’t what I wanted for you. But, be honest, some of what you were watching was lesbian porn – Girl Candy, Girlfriends Films – no men in those videos. What were you thinking when you watched those women have sex? You were turned on – admit it. You were turned on tonight when you saw me going face first into Darla’s crotch, as you put it, and when she was eating me you loved it. Be honest.”
“Honest? Yes, it turned me on. Yes, I like watching girl-girl porn. All that you say is true. But the central fact here is that you went behind my back.”
“So, you’re saying that if I’d come to you and said, ‘Sean, I think I may be attracted to other women, do you mind if I try it on for size,’ you would have said ‘go for it’?”
“We could have talked about it. I would have been involved in the decision. We would have shared it, just like when we talked about meeting Melissa, and later, Darla. This isn’t about you having sex with another woman, Pamela, it’s about you going behind my back to do it.”
Neither of them spoke for a bit.
“You’re right, of course, darling,” Pamela said at last. “What can I do to make this right?”
“I’ll think of something,” Sean said. “You’re not getting away with this without consequences. Right now though I think we should go to bed. It’s been a long day, we’ve just had a lot of really vigorous exercise, and we’re both tired.”
“Do you still love me, Sean?”
“Of course I do, Pamela,” Sean said, leaning in and kissing Pamela lightly on the lips, “I’m just disappointed and hurt.”
“I’m sorry,” Pamela whispered, a tear escaping and running down her cheek.
“So am I, darling. So am I.”
Neither of the Mainwarings got much sleep that night. Sean was quiet in the morning as he got himself ready for work. Pamela took his cue and left him alone as she made her own preparations for the day. She had a number of important meetings on her calendar and had already been on the phone with her assistant, whom she knew was already at the office by 7, reminding her which papers she needed for which meeting. It really wasn’t necessary and it was a measure of how distracted she was by the previous evening’s conclusion that she even made the call.
Sean gave her a perfunctory, obligatory, kiss on the cheek on the way out the door and was soon gone. Pamela felt wretched. Things had all gone horribly sideways since she came up with her brilliant plan. She laughed ruefully to herself, got into her car, and headed into the maelstrom called rush hour.
Sean, meanwhile, had been doing some thinking. He knew how badly Pamela felt – she deserves it! -- but he was still angry with her. Still, she was the love of his life and that was the whole point. She was all he ever wanted. He cursed his newly revived libido for having gotten him into this mess. Maybe if I got fat and out of shape again ... and quickly banished the thought. He was NOT going back to that shapeless blob of a man he’d become in his fifties.
He stopped at the gym for a morning workout before heading to the office freshly showered and ready for the day. But his mind wasn’t completely on his work and he made several frustrating errors as he contemplated his situation.
Pamela, for her part, did what she always did. She was the planner in the family and the money manager too. Being a CPA didn’t hurt, and having an MBA didn’t hurt either. She had risen to Corporate Vice President of New Product Development at the medium-sized company she worked for largely on her organizational and leadership skills. She was a problem solver, consensus builder, and big picture thinker – an unusual set of skills for an accountant.
As she went through her day, letting her assistant handle many small matters and giving her attention to the people in her meetings, a part of her mind worked on what to do about her relationship with Sean. By three o’clock she’d come up with a plan. It was a bit of a gamble, but it just might work.
When Sean got home that evening Pamela greeted him at the door with a freshly made martini. He kissed her, on autopilot, took the drink, sipped it, and said what he always said, “ that’s good booze,” a paraphrase of Jackie Gleason’s famous line.
“How was your day?” Pamela asked.