by Vivi King
For some reason, neither of us felt this in any way demeaning. In fact, rather than feeling humiliated at having been made a cuckold, Pete seemed bizarrely proud of me for having attracted and satisfied such young and attractive men. He even seemed proud that I was able to conceive at my age, making no attempt to persuade me either to terminate my pregnancy or keep the baby, giving me
space to think things through for myself.
The love I felt for my husband grew even warmer and my fear of hurting him or losing him grew stronger. However often I told myself it was imagination, the thought of my pretty, sexually adventurous and very available friend Julie having my husband in her sights kept forcing itself into my mind.
To be fair to Petehe showed no sign of dissatisfaction with the quality of our own physical sex life but there were continued and increasingly frequent reminders that he had still not been able to live out his main fantasy; that of watching me being fucked by another man.
I had been enjoying my fantasies for months; he had yet experience his. Listening to the stories would no longer be enough for him; action was needed and needed soon.
Knowing that his sole extramarital lover Julie was available and apparently still interested, my paranoid thoughts multiplied. I had to deliver the goods before frustration drove my husband into the hands and bed of this blonde, adventurous, china-doll-pretty temptation once again.
But his continued frustration didn’t mean the fucking I had received from Darren and Will couldn’t be talked about; far from it! Indeed there seemed no limit to the number of times Pete could listen to the story of his wife’s infidelities, reaching new levels of excited arousal and energetic performance with each bedroom jaunt.
I even came close to orgasm myself on one occasion but I couldn’t help notice a faint look of disappointment in his eye when he inevitably mentioned the fact that he had not been there to see it all.
I knew this had to change if our lifestyle and our marriage were to work.
Pete clearly knew this too; the trail of escort websites in the history of our PC's browser had been growing longer and longer. Recently however, it seemed that my husband had settled on the sites and reviews of only two specific escort couples. He had even made them favourites.
The subject came up as we sipped our coffees in the smart restaurant on Saturday evening. The meal had been simply delicious and we had enjoyed it side by side in a discreet private booth in a quiet corner. I had dressed moderately sexily in high heels and a short cocktail dress which exposed rather more of my bare thigh than I had expected. Pete had taken this as an invitation to explore my body under the table cloth throughout the meal, something I should have brought to a halt but which I must confess turned me on more than a little – once I was sure no-one could possibly see of course.
As our coffees were refilled, Pete passed a small box wrapped in gold paper across the table towards me. He was smiling knowingly. I picked it up, opened the paper carefully and looked inside the box.
It was my Pandora bracelet, but instead of the series of blue charms it used to bear, there were only three, all different colours. I looked at my husband with a raised eyebrow.
“The blue is for your first, our mutual friend,” he said, apparently still unwilling to say Tony’s name. “One will do for him. The red is for Darren – the colour of his Personal Trainer uniform and the green is for Will for the same reason.”
“I like it,” I smiled, leaning in to kiss my husband lightly on the lips.
“You’re welcome,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye.
“I see there’s plenty of space for more,” I said, slowly leaning back in my chair and looking him straight in the eye.
“I hope to see it full one day,” Pete said equally slowly and meaningfully. “But this time not too many of any one colour, agreed?”
After the messy end of my affair with Tony, I did not want a long term relationship with anyone but my husband again. If the lifestyle did begin once more, there would be no ongoing affairs.
“Agreed,” I nodded.
I looked at the silver and glass in my hand. Memories of my affair with Tony came flooding back but I knew I could not talk about that time with Pete; the wounds were still too fresh. I had fallen in love with Tony; I had come close to leaving my husband for him and probably would have done if his real character hadn’t revealed itself by dumping me as soon as my marriage had hit the rocks.
Even so, the physical memory of Tony’s stumpy, misshapen but oh-so-thick cock inside my oversized vagina was impossible to dislodge completely.
“Have you thought about... what I suggested?” I asked innocently in case anyone could overhear.
Pete understood immediately; I was referring to the idea I had put to him that we should give my husband his fantasy using a professional, paid fuck-buddy. Pete had baulked at the idea at first,
talking about prostitutes rather than escorts, the term I preferred.
“I’m still thinking about it,” he replied enigmatically.
He was doing more than just thinking if his browsing history was to be believed but I just smiled encouragingly
“Feeling any more positive?” I asked.
“I’m... I’m getting there,” he replied. “Slowly.”
A warm glow passed through me. Pete had been unbelievably understanding about my infidelities the past months. The more I gave him back now, the happier we both would be – and the less likely he would be to fall into Julie’s grasp.
“Is that why you brought this out again?” I indicated the Pandora Hotwife bracelet.
“I suppose it is,” he grinned.
“In that case, would you fasten it back on my wrist?”
“Can’t you manage?” he joked.
“Given what it represents,” I said quietly. “I think it would mean more to us both if you did it.”
As my husband carefully sealed the silver fastener shut, it felt as if he was sealing our future too. I jiggled my hand around, looking at the coloured charms in the restaurant’s low candlelight. They glowed warmly as my belly glowed, remembering how they had been earned.
I was going to be a Hotwife once again and soon too, but this time we would get it right.
***
The air of normality in my life continued on Monday morning. Once the hour or two of blessedly moderate morning sickness had passed, the day promised to be another uneventful, unremarkable start to the week. It was the kind of boring day I had loathed in the past but which now was all I wanted. A day in which my adulterously-conceived pregnancy, my sexually misguided daughter, my predatory best friend and even my husband’s increasingly expressed desire to watch himself being cuckolded could temporarily be forgotten.
Pete and I had woken together, sipped tea together, breakfasted together, dressed in normal, everyday clothes, kissed each other goodbye in the driveway as we had for decades and gone off to our separate jobs.
As I drove to work, the familiar binging sounds coming from my phone told of multiple emails arriving and promised a busy start to my week. I welcomed that; I needed to be Dr. Penny Barker again. I needed to remind myself that until the previous November when Tony, my first ever lover had seduced me, I had been a career scientist working on an international stage. I still had a team of scientists beneath me and a global reputation in my field to maintain.
My behaviour since Tony had first seduced and fucked me unceremoniously on our lounge floor had been dominated by the contents of my knickers. I had to remember that there was more to Penny Barker than the cock-hungry slut the previous months had unexpectedly released from deep within me.
The day helped, delivering even more normality than it had promised, with minor crises, a great deal of admin and the promise of more to come. It was lunchtime before I had a chance to go through all my work emails and late afternoon before I could sit back with a coffee and check both my personal and my secret author’s inboxes.
I was pleased to have received a handfu
l of messages from readers in the latter inbox. I read them all quickly; there was nothing that couldn’t wait for the morning. I could reply during the hour I usually had on my own before my husband woke up. There was a troll attack too, disappointingly this time from a new email address and in a new style though the content was just as hateful.
My personal account contained mostly adverts but among them was a message from my older son Josh who seemed to think four lines of typed text was as good as calling his mother on the phone. He was wrong!
I read it briefly; he and his girlfriend wanted to see us on Sunday to give us some news.
If the news was that they were getting engaged, this would come as no surprise to anyone. The two of them had been together for years and were more or less living as man and wife now. Babies would no doubt follow soon after but, I smiled wryly, I had my own problem in that department to deal with first.
For a moment the incongruity struck me; should a women my age with a son about to be married really have let herself be fucked half stupid by a boy younger than that son? Once was bad enough
but twice?
Fortunately I had heard nothing from my daughter since the call in which she had told me about the break-up with her most recent boyfriend. Perhaps her brother was providing a shoulder on which to cry should she need it.
I thanked God for older brothers for perhaps the first time in my life.
Monday evening arrived; Pete and I ate dinner together then he went into the study to work for an hour or so while I surreptitiously added a few paragraphs to the latest chapter of my story before joining my husband in the bedroom where he was waiting with sexual intent.
Although it was only Monday, when we had agreed not to split up and the Geneva Convention of our marriage had been agreed, I had promised myself I would never deny my body to my husband unless there was a serious reason for doing so.
Sex therefore was very much on the menu when I went to bed and I was looking forward to it.
Once there, my husband’s mouth and then his cock drove all my worries from my mind. As I came over and over again, my juices flowing freely onto Pete’s handsome, loving face, my thighs clamped either side of his head, the words ‘Oh God! Oh God!’ kept coming from my mouth.
'Like mother, like daughter?' I wondered as I drifted off to sleep half an hour later.
***
Tuesday passed in similar vein but predictably, it wasn’t long before this idyll came to an end.
It was Wednesday morning and I was driving to work. The traffic was unusually heavy so I was stuck in the car for some time. Annoying though this was, it turned out to be a blessing in disguise because when my phone rang and the words ‘Will Mobile’ appeared there was no-one around to see.
I literally jumped in my seat at the sight of his name on the screen. My heart thumped and a strange thrill passed through me! The thrill was powerful and sexual; my mind told me that this was not the way I was supposed to feel but my body couldn’t help itself.
For a moment I contemplated rejecting the call and letting my voicemail protect me from the danger this intrusion represented. But that would have been cowardice and would only have delayed the difficult task, probably to a much more awkward moment.
I touched the green button on the screen
“Hi,” I said uncertainly.
To my annoyance my voice was trembling a little.
“Hi Penny,” came the familiar youthful voice. “It’s Will.”
“Hi Will,” I replied nervously, still sounding like a schoolgirl when in the presence of her biggest crush.
For a second I wondered what he wanted but then metaphorically kicked myself; I knew full well what he wanted. I had been expecting a call some time so should not be surprised it had happened.
What I most certainly had not expected was the surge of excitement that rose unbidden within me at the sound of my most recent lover’s voice.
“How are you?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I replied, my throat still tight. “I’m on my way to work.”
“Can we talk?”
“There’s no-one else in the car.”
There was a pause.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called earlier,” he began.
“That’s oka,y Will,” I told him softly. “I didn’t expect you to.”
“I thought about sending you flowers but then I thought...” he began.
“Will, you mustn’t do that. I’m married. It would be too risky.”
He let the words sink in a moment.
“Besides we’re not having an affair,” I added. “We made lo... you fucked me, that’s all that
happened.”
“But...”
“You did it very well but that’s all it was; a fuck,” I interrupted.
Why had I felt the need to tell him that? And why had my tummy rumbled as I said the words?
“I’d... I’d like us to meet again,” he said
My heart thumped even louder. It was what I had been expecting to hear but I had not expected to feel so pleased it had been said. 'Shit!' There was a warm glow developing between my thighs too.
'Get a grip, Penny!'
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I replied without conviction.
“Didn’t you enjoy our last.... meeting?”
“You know I did,” I told him honestly.
“Then why wouldn’t you want another?”
I took a deep breath before saying words designed as much to convince myself as to convince him.
“Will, I’m married. Okay, I’m not the perfect faithful wife but I still have a husband.”
“Doctor Peter Barker, yes I know about him.”
“I’m married to him. I’m supposed to be faithful to him.”
“But you aren’t faithful, are you?” he asked.
“No, Will. Not all the time.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes, Will. I love him a great deal.”
“But you still cheat on him?”
“It’s complicated, Will,” I replied weakly.
“I bet it is,” he laughed. “Does your husband know about you and Darren? You and me?”
This was difficult; if I said no it would reinforce his belief that he held something over me. If I said yes it would tell him more than he needed to know about our lifestyle.
At the moment Will thought the biggest threat was my husband finding out about my one night stands. The truth was that the biggest threat to our lives and family was if our friends, colleagues or – God help us – our children found out what we had been up to.
And Will didn’t even know about the pregnancy yet! That multiplied the risk many times.
It was time to be assertive.
“Will, we can’t go on like this. Either you’re blackmailing me into having sex with you or you’re a friend I chose to have sex with. You told me you weren’t interested in money; surely trying to coerce me into sex in no better.”
“I’m not a blackmailer,” he insisted. “And I’m not trying to coerce you. I just thought...”
“You just thought I was an easy lay and had been so amazed by your performance last time that I couldn’t wait to let you fuck me again. Am I right?”
The silence on the other end of the phone told me I was very right; Will thought I was a pushover and had expected me to fall back into his arms and his bed with ease.
What he didn’t know – and I had only now discovered from my instinctive reaction to his call - was that he was very right too. I had been overwhelmed by the way he had fucked me. Whatever my mind was saying, my body couldn’t wait to feel that way again.
“And just in case I was having doubts you thought a little threat to tell my husband would push me over the edge and into your bed,” I continued as much to distract myself.
“So was I right?” he replied in a challenge that wrong-footed me for a moment. “Are we going to fuck again?”
This time it was my turn to pause.
I had thought I was in control, now I wasn’t so sure. The pause was lengthy as I tried to balance the need to make Pete and my lives safe against the surge of lust that was pulsating through my whole body.
“Maybe,” I eventually replied.
It was a stupid, weak response but its effect on Will was instant.
“That’s not a complete ‘no’ then?”
“It’s not a complete ‘no’,” I confirmed.
I thought for a moment. If I had listened only to my body I would have simply said yes and gone to meet my fate in the expectation of an evening just as satisfying as my night with Darren had been.
The prospect was much more enticing than I was comfortable with.
But the Penny who would have done all that had nearly lost her husband, her family and the respect of her friends. I was a new Penny now; a Geneva Convention Penny who was trying to bring this illicit relationship to a safe conclusion, not prolong it, however amazing the sex would undoubtedly be.
And there was no question of the new Penny going to bed with anyone without her husband’s knowledge and agreement. Besides, the beginnings of an idea were beginning to form in my brain.
“I’ll let you know tomorrow morning,” I said firmly. “I’m not saying yes, though.”
“Okay,” he said a little downcast.
“I’m at work now Will. I have to go.”
“Speak soon?”
“Okay. I’ll send you a message.”
“Have a good day Penny.”
“You too, Will.”
I pressed the red button to end the call and swore out loud.
What was it about me that made me do such stupid things? I was nearly fifty-two for Christ’s sake. Why couldn’t I go to garden centres or wives groups, or do flower arranging like other women my age?
Why did the contents of my knickers have to get me into so much trouble?
***
“I need you to let me see him one more time,” I said anxiously over dinner that evening.
“Jesus, Penny,” Pete began. “I thought...”
“I told you it might not be over,” I insisted. “He wants to see me again.”
Pete was on the verge of anger now. It was evening of the same day and we were sitting at the table having eaten dinner together as we had so many times before. Indeed life had been so normal and so companionable that it was only with the greatest of reluctance that I had raised the subject of Will again.