Chapter 1

I am Mikoli Greene and married to a big, beautiful woman named Sandy. Sandy is 5'7" tall, with sparkling green eyes, a round but beautiful face, a body that has fluctuated from as "small" as an 18 to as big as a size 24 back to size 20 now, and a big set of breasts that were 38DD when we met to 40DD now. We are in the thirty second year of our marriage. I love her as much if not more than ever. Our life together has not been a picnic because Sandy suffers from Crohn's Disease, a chronic illness with no cure. On top of that we have indulged in some extramarital activities, some with pleasurable results, some with painful results to both of us. We had not actually discussed not ever involving other people in our sex life again, but I had the idea it was mutually understood. Man, was I in for a surprise!

"Mikoli, do you still have fantasies?" My dear wife asked one night as we were preparing for bed.

"Of course, I do. I'm still living and breathing, aren't I?" I chuckled back at her.

"Dang it Mikoli, you don't have to be a smart ass."

"You knew that about me when we were dating and married me any way. You should be used to it by now."

"Okay, will you tell me any of them?" Sandy asked.

"Yes, I'll tell you. You know I'll tell you anything you want or think you need to know. Remember my promise while we were dating, no secrets, no lies, complete honesty." I remarked getting a little peeved.

"Oh, Mikoli, don't be like that." Sandy scolded me after hearing the angry tone in my voice. "I know you'll always be truthful with me. I hate it sometimes, especially when I'm fishing for a complement and you tell me exactly what's on your mind."

"Like when?" I asked getting curious.

"Like when I ask how my tits look in a particular outfit or how my ass looks in the same outfit." Sandy enlightened me.

"Those were fishing lines? I thought you wanted a truthful answer so it'd help you decide whether to wear them or not. I almost always say the same thing though, right? The outfit usually makes both those things you mentioned look big. I also say 'Just the way I love them.' right?"

"Yes, you're right, Mikoli. Can we get back to the subject that started this whole thing?" Sandy inquired of me.

By that time I had laid down on the bed. I have slept nude our entire married life. I started sleeping that way when I was a bachelor on my own. It caused a tiny disagreement when we were first married. It was the first and not too frequent time I didn't cave when Sandy used her whiny, pouty voice on me. I believe that was the day that she realized I wasn't a total push over.

As I lay watching my beautiful wife get ready for bed, the little guy decided to make an appearance. He was at full attention when Sandy finally lay down on the bed. She laid her head on my chest and grasped my turgid organ in her left hand.

"What caused that?" She purred at me as she stroked my dick slowly.

"Looking at the most beautiful naked body in the world." I exclaimed excitedly.

"My body's not beautiful." Sandy exhaled with a touch of pain and disgust. "It's fat, has this big ugly scar on it's belly, and tits that hang down almost to my belly button."

With that, she let go of my dick and tried to turn away. I wrapped my left arm around her to prevent her from turning as I turned half onto my side and wrapped my right arm around her then pulled her into a hug while planting kisses on as much of her face as I could reach.

"Sandy, to me your body IS the most beautiful body in the world." I soothingly explained to her. "It's beautiful because it belongs to you. I love it because I love you. It will still be beautiful to me when it's old, wrinkled, and your tits hang down to your knees."

After a few moments, I got Sandy to lay back down with me. Needless to say, the little guy had lost interest and went back to sleep.

"Tell me some of your fantasies, Mikoli." Sandy asked again. The little guy twitched with attention at that.

"Well, how about I tell you the biggest fantasy I have?"

"That would be fine."

"Okay, just promise not to get mad."

"I can't promise that. I can only try not to get mad."

"Fair enough. All my fantasies involve you. The major one I have now is you and another woman."

"Me and her sharing you?" Sandy gasped interrupting me.

"Not exactly."

"Then how? No, it doesn't involve what I am beginning to think it involves?"

"Well, seeing's how we both know pretty much how each other think by now; yes, it probably is what you're thinking right now." I told her not really answering her directly.

"You fantasize about me making love to another woman?" Sandy asked in what I considered her surprised little girl voice.

"Yep, all the time. I can even give you very detailed specifics from thinking about it so much."

"Tell me." Sandy implored me as she took my hardened erection again in her hand.

"You know I have a thing for big breasted women. And you know how blondes turn me on."

"Yes, I know all that. Tell me something I don't know." Sandy told me exasperatedly.

"Okay. Okay. Don't get your panties in a wad. You remember Debbie, the blonde with the nice set of tits we met at the resort in Hawaii."

"Yes, she and I had some nice conversations together while we were there."

"Yeah, and from what happened in our room as soon as we got back to it, I didn't have to ask what they were about."

(We had been having okay sex sessions up to that point in our vacation, but it sure went to a much higher level after Sandy and Debbie's conversations.)

"I'm pretty sure that is when my fantasy was born. I knew you all were talking about sex, but I didn't want to pry so I never asked specifics. I knew you would share with me what you wanted to. I started picturing you and Debbie together in a sexual way. When you all would lean close to each other to whisper naughty things, I imagined it as leaning close and kissing each other. You were both so beautiful when you were close like that. I fantasized about you all kissing there at the pool until you got aroused. In my mind's eye, I saw you grab Debbie's hand, pull her up out of the lounge chair, then pull her toward the elevator, and she went willingly. You forgot about me completely so I hurriedly gathered all ours and Debbie's things. By the time I got to the elevators, you and Debbie were in the car and the door was closing. I was too late to get on that car and waited impatiently for the next one. I knew I couldn't make it up fourteen flights of stairs with all our stuff, but luckily for me the other elevator car door opened at that moment."