Story

I pumped my hips up as Harvey drove his down, once again burying himself in me to the root. This time was taking longer. Not only was he working on his third orgasm, but, frankly, the friction we had experienced the first two times had diminished considerably from the use of my pussy and from the overabundance of fluids we had both produced. Lucky me, I didn't need the friction as long he made sufficient contact with my clitoris, and he did. I made sure of that.

This was not a contest and I had lost track of my orgasms, but there were enough that by the time he came, I would be satisfied.

He soon began making those silly man noises that let me know that if I wanted to get off with him, I had better make it happen soon. I reached a hand down between us and began rubbing two fingers over my slippery clit. It was sufficient. I enjoyed yet another orgasm. As I started to come down from the high, I recognized that he was moments away.

"In my mouth. My pussy is full enough!"

Ever the gentleman, he complied with my request. It was not copious. He had used up most of what he had stored the first two times. But I love the taste of cum and this was a lovely way to end an afternoon of pleasure.

We rested a few minutes and he got up to shower.

"Do you have to rush off?"

"Your husband will be home in a little while."

"No he won't. The game won't end before four and it often runs as late as four-thirty. It's at least forty-five minutes in traffic. He has never left an Eagles game early no matter how much they were winning by or how badly they were losing. It's a whole big production for him from tailgating three hours before the game to the final whistle."

"Well, I have nothing left anyway."

"Enjoy your shower; wouldn't want the wife finding any evidence."

I just laid there resting. Orgasms take a lot out of me. Of course they're wonderful, but the body does undergo some pretty violent contractions when they are really good. I would need a shower too and I would need to change the sheets but I had plenty of time. I needed to rest up so I would be ready to do some more of this tonight with my husband, if he was interested.

Harvey was a lot quicker in the shower than he ever was in bed and he dressed and headed down the stairs.

I heard his tires screech as he pulled away. That was stupid. Be unobtrusive. Don't draw any unnecessary attention from the neighbors. I would have to talk to him.

I heard the front door close. Maybe it wasn't him pulling away. He probably forgot something. I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs and then he appeared in my doorway - my husband.

"What are you doing home so early?"

"I think the more important question is what were you doing? Who was that guy who ran past me and tore out of here in his car?"

I didn't have a good answer to either question. "Why are you home so early, honey?"

"I got sick. Who was that guy you were just fucking?"

No use lying. There was really no question as to what I had been doing. "Baby, it was just sex. I love only you, but I need more than you can give me."

"That's an explanation?" He wasn't yelling. I would have preferred it. He yelled when he was angry. He spoke quietly when he was so far beyond angry he was on the edge of explosion. He is not usually a violent man, but I was afraid.

"He's nobody, nothing. He means nothing at all to me."

"Like me?"

"No, I love you with all my heart."

"I guess you don't have much of a heart."

"Don't say that baby. It didn't mean a thing."

"It did to me. I'll talk to you later. I'm so angry now I'm afraid I'll punch you hard enough to kill you." He turned and left. I heard the front door slam.

This was good. He would come back calm and I could explain so that he would understand. In the meantime, it was probably a good idea to get cleaned up and change the sheets. The mess on me or them might reignite his anger.

I stripped the bed and made it with fresh sheets. Then I took a nice hot shower. I didn't know how long I would have, but I wanted to be sure to remove all traces of our activity so I took the necessary time. I was surprised at how calm I was. This had the potential to turn out very badly, but I had thought of what I would do if I were ever caught and I think that preparation helped me do what I had to do now.

I put on a white blouse and black skirt that ended around eight inches above my knees. I put on panties but no bra. I wanted to look appealing without looking slutty. He might think that of me so I didn't want to enhance that perception with my attire.

I took down the sheets and started the washer. Then I poured myself a glass of wine to help calm me and waited for him in the living room. He took his sweet time. He was gone nearly an hour and a half.

"Do you have a better explanation? How long has this been going on? How many other guys are you fucking? Any of our friends?"

"Calm down, honey. I'll answer your questions but I can't answer them all at once."

"How long?"

"Around three years."

"We've only been married for five years."

"I know. I held out as long as I could."

"I'm deeply appreciative."

"No need for sarcasm." He was often sarcastic. I didn't know if I would be able to put up with that through a long marriage.

"Yes there is. How many guys?"

"Around a dozen. None of our friends."

"You're pretty fucking calm about this. You don't even care that you've been caught? You don't care how much you've hurt me?"

"Oh, I care. I'm really sorry you had to find out. I didn't want to hurt you."

"What did you think this would do?"

"I thought that after I got to explain to you, you would understand and be okay with it."

"You really think that? You think I'll be fine with being betrayed?"

"I didn't really betray you. It didn't mean a thing. You need to let me explain."

He stared at me with a look of incredulity. This might not be as easy as I had imagined. "Sure. Give it your best shot, slut."

"That's not nice thing to say."

"Well then, convince me it isn't appropriate."

"You know I have a much greater sex drive than you. Well, I tried everything I could think of for the first two years we were married to rev you up so I could be satisfied, but nothing worked. Just because two people are married doesn't mean they can be everything to each other, that they can do everything for each other. I need more sex to be fulfilled. You couldn't supply it so I had to go out to get it."

I wasn't rushing through this but he just sat there passively, not looking as if he had any plans to jump in. "Just because we are married doesn't mean that I don't have a right to be sexually satisfied. I can't supply everything you need either. That's why you go to the Eagles with Frank. He fills a need I can't."

"Just a fucking minute, you're equating going to a football game with another guy to you fucking whoever you want, whenever you want?"

"No. Of course not. I don't do it whenever I want. And I don't do it with just any guy. And I make sure I take care of you too."

"No. You're not taking care of me. You're taking care of you. I just happen to be the guy of the moment."

"Don't say that. I love you. It's completely different. But you can't take care of me. I have needs. If you couldn't make enough to support us, would you consider it a betrayal if I got food stamps so we could eat?"

"So you think you're entitled to indulge yourself in any area in which you don't think I'm taking care of you adequately?"

"No. But there are some things that are just too important to do without. If we needed money to pay the rent or to buy food, I'd get a job, I'd do something to make sure our needs were satisfied."

He was starting to get that quiet, angry look again. I had thought this would go better. "You're not satisfying our needs here. You've chosen to satisfy yours."

"Aren't my needs important? Don't you care about me?"

"Grace, you're talking about cheating on me."

"I'm talking about not having to give up an important part of my fulfillment as a woman just because I got married. What if you told me you didn't want me working? Would I have to give that up too?"

"It's not the same thing. Let me ask you this, if I could somehow put this behind me, if I could find a way to increase our lovemaking, would you put an end to this?"

"Well,"

"Well, what?" Now he was shouting.

I wanted to try to put this delicately. "I've discovered that I like to be more filled than you can do. I don't want to give that up completely."

"So you plan to keep on doing this no matter what I say, no matter what it does to our marriage?"

"I don't want to lose you. I love only you. But I need this."

"Doesn't this strike you as being supremely selfish?"

I was ready for this one. I knew he would try to play the selfish card. "What about you? You're saying you would be fine with me having an unfulfilled sex life for the rest of our marriage? How selfish is that?"

He sputtered. I knew this was a really good argument. "So anything you're not completely satisfied with, you just do what you want to make yourself happy?"

"Don't you want me to be happy? I would think that when you love someone you would want them to be happy."

"I'm not happy."

That was harsh. "Maybe there are some situations where everybody can't be happy."

"I don't know if I can live with this. I want you to see somebody, a therapist, to talk about this."

"What, now I'm crazy?"

"No. Someone to help you make sure you understand what you're doing to the marriage, to make sure you have your priorities in order."

"No. There is nothing wrong with me. Go see one yourself. Look, I'm sorry all this came out, and I'm sorry you feel bad about it, but I if I start giving up parts of myself just because I'm married, where does it end? I don't want to lose you, but this is very important to me."

He just sat there with a pained look on his face. I knew it was possible that this might not be easy for him. But I did love him and he did love me and I was sure that he would come around after he had a chance to think about it.

"Give this some real thought, Barry. Don't just dismiss it out of hand because it seems the natural thing to do. Think about what you want. Think about how much we love each other."

Pained and incredulous. He didn't say anything immediately. Neither did I. The least I could do was to give him the time to collect his thoughts.

"I love you Grace. I'd like to find a way for us to stay together even though you've hurt me very deeply and you tell me you plan to keep on doing it. I'll do that much for you. I'll give it some thought."

"Thank you. I love you so much." I got up to hug him, but he pushed me away. I could understand how he could feel that way. All of this was too recent. He would handle it better as he had time to absorb it. I left him to his thoughts in the living room.

I went out and bought cheese steaks. That was our traditional Sunday night dinner after a home game. It was just a small way of showing him that nothing had to change as a result of my activities.

We didn't talk over dinner. I wanted to give him space and he had nothing he wanted to say.

I watched TV in the bedroom by myself. He didn't come in. I suppose he was in the house somewhere thinking about all this. I hated to hurt him this way, but what else could I do? I was very hopeful. Barry is a very mild-mannered guy, the archetypal Clark Kent. His way was to accommodate, to smooth things over. Sure he got angry every now and then. But there was nothing in his personality that indicated he would ever turn into Superman. He would think things through and come up with a logical solution, a solution that allowed us to stay together.

He came in at bedtime and I pulled down the sheets on his side of the bed as he took out his pajamas.

"I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom."

"There's no need for that. I love you as much as I always did and I want you with me."

"Frankly Grace, the thought of sleeping in the same bed with you right now makes me nauseous."

"Barry." But he ignored my plea and left the room. I would give him as much space as he needed. I decided not to plan any extra activities for a while to give him the time he needed.

Somehow he left in the morning without me seeing him. He must have left awfully early because I had to get up for work too, even though I only worked half days. I had been laid off and good jobs were not easy to come by in this economy.

I took advantage of the afternoon off to make his favorite meal - roast with garlic mashed potatoes. I was really looking forward to dinner.

He got home just before six. He didn't say anything to me; he just went upstairs. I waited patiently for him. I heard the water running. He must have been taking a shower; freshening up for me. That was a really good sign.

He came down dressed in a suit; awfully formal for dinner at home. "I made your favorite dinner, honey."

"I'm not eating here. Frankly, Grace, you're not a very good cook and I need something better to feel gastronomically fulfilled so I'm going to a restaurant where I can get a really satisfying meal."

That was cruel. I guess there was some truth to it, but it was cruel nonetheless. "Okay, wait up. I'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Sorry, I have a kind of date. You're also not the greatest conversationalist and if I'm spending the money to have a good meal in a quality restaurant, I don't want to spoil it with inferior conversation. I asked somebody I know who is really interesting. Look at the bright side, you'll have leftovers tomorrow and you won't have to cook."

"Barry!" I said it reproachfully but he ignored me, took his coat and walked to the door.

"I don't think I'll be back late but you don't need to wait up for me." And he left.

I really didn't know what to make of this. I guessed it was some kind of attempt to get me to change my mind though I didn't understand how he hoped to accomplish that. I figured one night of trying to assert himself would make him feel better about himself and smooth the whole process. I could wait for this to play itself out.

I watched Fear Factor. It was a two-hour episode. As it was ending I heard him come in so I went downstairs to greet him. He was not alone. She was suitably dressed and very attractive.

"Grace, this is my friend Deborah. Deborah, Grace."

"Pleased to meet you," she said.

"What's going on here? Did you bring your date back here to fuck to get me jealous?"

"Grace, that's rude and crude. I'm appalled at your behavior. First of all, I didn't have dinner with Deborah. Second, there won't be any sex unless we have a discussion and decide to try each other out. I think you owe her an apology."

Like there was any possibility that would ever happen.

"Your behavior is disgraceful. Nonetheless, I'll give you an explanation of what she's doing here. Right now I can't stand the idea of being in the same bed with you. But even if that time comes, you take up too much space and you're too intrusive on my personal space. It's often uncomfortable to try to sleep in the same bed with you. But I have gotten used to sleeping with someone. Deborah is single and she also likes the feeling of sleeping with someone, so we're auditioning each other to see if we are compatible sharing a bed. Even though you and I are married, that's no reason I shouldn't be able to get a good night's sleep. There will be no sex involved for the time being. We just want to find out if we're compatible. I'll probably audition a few other women before I make any decision on that."

He took their coats and hung them up in the closet. I didn't say anything. What the hell could I say? What were the magic words to make him realize what an idiotic idea this was? I didn't know them. It should have been self evident.

"Have a good night's sleep, Grace." And he took her upstairs.

I hadn't expected any of this. I had thought I was ready for any possibility but he sure threw me with this one. I decided to get that good night's sleep he had wished me. I could think about this tomorrow.

It turned out that, for some reason, I didn't sleep all that well.

They were getting ready for work when I got up. I saw her walk into the hall bathroom wearing only panties and a bra. Very utilitarian. She wasn't planning on seducing anybody with those. Barry was singing in the bedroom. He was awfully cheerful this morning. I got ready for work myself.

I found them having breakfast in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Grace. Did you sleep well?"

"Just fine."

"Good morning, Grace."

Right, bitch. "Good morning, I'm sorry, what was your name?"

"Deborah," said Barry.

We ate in silence. Nobody said a word until they were leaving.

"Have a nice day," said Barry, still very cheerful.

I didn't. I couldn't stop obsessing. What was his plan? Could it possibly be that he had just accepted my decision and was making the best of it? I didn't think so. Was this his game, or was there more? Was I dealing with Clark Kent or was this Superman?

I had the afternoon off, but I didn't have the enthusiasm to call anyone to play with.

He came home from work at the usual time. "Hello Grace." Cheerful and pleasant. He headed upstairs and again I heard the shower. This time he returned dressed casually. Nice, but casual.

I was about to ask him what was going on when he went for his coat. "Enjoy your dinner, Grace. I'm probably going to be back later tonight."

"Where are you going?"

"Dinner and dancing."

"Just a damn minute."

"You're a perfectly adequate dancer Grace, but she's really hot."

"But you're depriving me. I would be happy to go dancing with you."

"Number one, like I said, you're not as good a dancer. Number two, you wouldn't ordinarily be interested in dancing on a weeknight anyway. If you're so interested in dancing, why don't you call one of your many lovers?"

"They're not lovers. I just fuck them."

"I stand corrected. Well, tonight, you can also dance with them."

"I don't deprive you. I always give you as much as you want."

"You don't give me loyalty, which was what I thought I wanted more than the sex. Hey, I'm just following your rules, aren't I? Being married shouldn't stop me from fulfilling myself personally in any way I desire. I did get that right didn't I?"

There no rancor in his voice. Had he just accepted what I had said completely? This wasn't what I had in mind. He walked out the door. I know there is something I should say but I'm not sure what. It's too late now anyway. I'll talk to him when he gets home.

I knew I had to talk to him but try as I might I couldn't come up with something clever and pithy. Maybe I should talk to Deborah. She was sleeping openly with another woman's husband. What gave her permission to do that?