Our Dirty Secret (A MFM Ménage Romance)

by Vivian Ward

  “I’m confused,” I say. “Do you want to watch? Have threesomes? What? Because I’m not following you.”

  Threesomes are normal. I mean, semi-normal. They’re more normal than your spouse watching you have sex with someone else. Right?

  As I try to think logically about all of this, I pick up on the fact that he's silent; almost as though he’s observing me. I’m trying not to show much reaction to any of this because I don’t want him to see that I’m taken aback by it or that I’m excited as hell by it.

  Because right now, I’m both of those things, but I’m also scared.

  Should I admit anything to him? What would he say if he knew, I mean really knew, that I’ve wanted to fuck other men over the course of our marriage?

  And what would it be like if anything were to ever happen between me, him, and another guy?

  I’ve had a threesome once. Long before I met him with a friend of mine and his girlfriend, but that was different. I wasn’t the person “attached” to anyone in the relationship, I was merely a friend of the couple, and I was single at the time.

  There was also another time where a girlfriend of mine and I did swapping with a couple of guys right after we graduated high school before she went away to college. That night was all sorts of crazy because we’d all been drinking pretty heavily and we were so young.

  But, both times were extremely fun and extremely hot, and Brett knows about both of them.

  “Sort of, I guess you could call it a threesome,” he answers. “But it’s not necessarily a threesome. I mean, it could be, but not all the time. Sometimes I might just watch, other times I might join. And sometimes I might just let you go out by yourself to have a good time as long as you promise to send me pictures and videos.”

  His face is lit up like a Christmas tree!

  I’m listening to him, still trying not to react, and he’s gloating like he’s just told me the best news in the world: he wants to watch and participate and have picture or video evidence of me fucking other guys.

  “Wait, let’s slow down a minute. You want pictures and videos?”

  Oh why, oh why would he want that? Blackmail maybe? This is getting weirder by the second.

  “Yeah,” he says, his eyes still dancing in the dimly lit room. “I mean it when I say I like watching you and looking at you.”

  “Brett, what’s going on here? You’ve always been so jealous, and now you’re giving me permission—no, you’re asking me to fuck other men, and you want video or pictures? You’re not going to try and divorce me and use this against me, are you?”

  He laughs and pulls me tightly against him, squeezing me with a reassuring hug.

  “No, babe. Fuck, Cathy. I just like watching you, and there’s nothing more that I’d love than to have my own personal porn star. The difference is I get to fuck you and have you all to myself when it’s all said and done.”

  “Hmmm,” I say, pondering what he’s telling me.

  His own personal porn star, huh?

  That does sound cool. I never thought that I’d be hot enough to be considered porn star material. Heat begins to spread across my cheeks and travels down to my collar bone as I imagine myself starring in a video.

  “And here’s the thing, Cathy,” he releases me and sits up, putting some distance between us. “Let’s be honest here. You know—I know—no, we both know you’ve thought about other guys so this really shouldn’t be too far fetched for you.”

  Oh, my god! Did he just say that?

  The heat on my cheeks kicks up a few levels on the Scoville scale. I can feel myself flushing uncontrollably.

  But fuck, he’s got me. He’s speaking the truth, and I can’t hide it.

  An uncontrollable grin tugs at the corners of my lips as I collapse on my pillows and cover my face with my blanket.

  I’m so embarrassed. How do I even deny it?

  I can’t. If only he knew how badly I’ve thought about other men, he might not be having this conversation with me.

  “Cathy?” he coos my name, trying to peek under the blankets that I have pulled up to my nose to hide my stupid grin.

  The same grin that gives me away to everyone; myself, the other men, my husband.

  “What?” I ask, and it’s obvious as hell I can’t wipe my stupid smile away.

  “I know you’re smiling under there. Come on, babe. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going through your mind.”

  “I can’t do that,” I giggle.

  Part of me wants to tell him everything. Badly. It’d be nice to get it all off my chest and confess to all the dirty, sinful thoughts I’ve had.

  But I’m so afraid admitting anything to him will hurt him or scare him away from this idea because, honestly, I kind of like it.

  A lot.

  Oh, the possibilities are swimming through my head!

  Do you have any idea how many guys I could have fucked if I’d known this beforehand?

  Geez, Louise! So many!

  “Cathy, we’ve always been able to talk about things and communicate. Tell me what’s running through that brilliant mind of yours.”

  “No, let’s start with you,” I say. “Why or how did you develop this fantasy and what made you tell me about it? I’ve got to know that this is 100% legit before we talk about this anymore. You tell me your secrets, and then I’ll tell you mine.”

  A heavy sigh escapes his lungs as he grins at me.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just fucked up in the head. There’s got to be something wrong with me, right? I see what you’re thinking. You think it’s crazy, and I believed that for the longest time but this is something I can’t stop thinking about.”

  I can tell he’s going to tell me everything, so I prop myself up on my elbow as I lie next to him.

  “I don’t think you’re fucked up,” I shake my head. “Everyone’s got their own kinks, and I’ll tell you the truth. It turns me on, but what made you bring this up to me?”

  Yeah, it’s real fucking evident it turns me on. My panties are soaked, and my heart is racing as I think about the possibility of my husband watch another man pushing his dick inside me.

  “It’s hard to say but the main reason—probably the only reason—is because I trust you. You know how shitty my past relationships were, how my ex always cheated on me—,” I cut him off.

  “But now you’re asking me to cheat on you? Wow,” I pause, reflecting for a moment. “That is fucked up when you think about it.”

  “I know. One day, I was thinking about what I’d do if you ever cheated.”

  I shake my head at him, “That’d never happen, babe.”

  “I know, but I was looking through a forum and stumbled across this guy who had a video of his wife cheating on him. He thought she was up to something, so he hid in the closet with a camera and watched.

  “He waited for over two hours until he heard a man talking to his wife and turned the camera on. As he watched this guy fondling his wife and the two of them doing foreplay, he started to get turned on. He said he ended up jacking off in the closet to this guy fucking her and said it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

  “His wife had no clue about what he was doing so he hid the video and used it as his new favorite porn until he finally told her. They had a talk, and now he watches or joins in and gets even more video.

  “Sometimes she even goes out by herself and sends him surprise pictures,” he pauses. “Oh, my God. I’m so fucked up. Right?”

  I laugh, “No, it really sounds hot. I can see why you’d be interested in it.”

  “Do you want to see the video? I’ve got it on my computer.”

  “Sure—,” it hits me! “Wait! I’ve seen it on your computer before! It’s the “cheating housewife” video! O. M. G. Brett!”

  He looks away from me, almost like he’s embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to put you on the spot. Give me some time to think about this. Okay?” I ask.

  He nods. “Okay.”<
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  We sit in silence for a few moments, both of us are pretending to watch TV, but neither of us can stop thinking about the conversation that just took place.

  “Brett?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What was that app on your phone?”

  “Tumblr,” he says.

  “Wait, what’s Tumblr?” I ask.

  “Kind of like a picture blog. You can post pics, videos, memes, that sort of thing.”

  “Hmm,” I nod. I’ve heard about Tumblr but never looked into it. “How long have you had it?”

  “Remember when we used to live on Adams Street?” he smiles.

  “Oh my god! That was six years ago, Brett!”

  “I know.”

  “But I didn’t even find the porn on your computer until about two years ago when we lived on Clay Avenue,” I say to him, trying to piece this all together.

  “Honestly? I’ve always thought about you fucking other guys, Cathy. It used to drive me nuts. I always worried about whether one of my friends would try to make a move on you and then,” he pauses, almost like he’s ashamed to say the rest. “I wondered if I’d secretly like it because I know you’d never leave me.”

  “Well, you might be fucked up but you’ve got one thing right: I’d never leave you. And I guess the two of us can be fucked up together because I have thought about fucking other guys. Lots of other guys.”

  When I met my husband, we discussed our number of sexual partners, my number was almost three times higher than his. I thought his eyeballs were going to pop out of his head that night as we sat at the Italian restaurant enjoying a nice dinner, sharing these intimate details with one another.

  I’ve always been very sexually active. I had my first sexual encounter when I was 13, and ever since then, I’ve fucked whoever whenever I wanted until I met Brett.

  Friends with benefits were always a good thing to have, and it looks like I might be getting some more again.

  Chapter 8

  Sitting down at the computer while the house is quiet, I’m thankful that the rest of the family is sleeping. Brett’s been teasing me, trying to get names out of me. He wants to know all the guys I’ve thought about fucking.

  I’ve been so nervous and afraid to tell him but one thing we both agreed on is that if we’re going to do this, honesty is the best policy. Without honesty and trust, we can’t do this. We can’t be in this type of lifestyle if we can’t tell each other everything.

  I fire up my iMac and wait for my programs to load up as I think back to the beginning of our relationship and picture all of the other men who I would’ve taken to bed.

  There’s a lot of them.

  Opening my email, I click on compose and type in Brett’s email address. There’s no way I can say the names out loud or even let him hear me say them. This is better. This is how I can communicate with him, at least for now until we take things to the next level.

  I open with a short line and begin writing the message that will seal the fate of what my husband thinks about me.

  Hey babe,

  I’m sorry I can’t do this in person, but I wanted to answer your question about the names. I’ll give you what you asked for but please, don’t make fun of me or think badly of me. I want this to work out as much as you do and I don’t need you making me extra self-conscious. Okay, here goes:

  Sam

  Sage

  Chris (the one that looked like John Cena)

  Joe

  Travis

  Travis’s brother (the one we’ve only seen once, Tim?)

  Bill (that would’ve been a BIG MAYBE)

  Jeremy

  Larry

  Randy

  A few other guys at work that I’ve never mentioned…

  Okay, that’s a pretty long list, and now I feel like a huge slut, but you wanted to know so there you go.

  Love Always,

  Your girl

  I will myself to click send. Before I chicken out, I hover the red button and look away, forcing myself to click as though if I don’t look, it never happened.

  When I glance back at the screen, the email has been sent, and I’m back in my inbox messages.

  Holy shit. Hope he likes what he asked for.

  One good thing is that he doesn’t talk to most of the guys on the list anymore because those were primarily his single friends who kind of drifted after we got married. It also helps that Jeremy no longer works with me since he quit over a year ago. Larry doesn’t work with me anymore either because he got fired, and nobody has seen or heard from him since.

  Brett doesn’t get on his computer until after lunch, and from the kitchen, I watch in anticipation as he logs into his email.

  He spots mine right away and clicks on it, reading it in complete silence. Nervously, I pretend to wipe the counters so I can watch his face as he reads it.

  When he finishes it, he turns around and looks at me. His eyebrows are raised to the center of his wrinkled forehead as he grins at me.

  “Pretty big list there,” he bobs his head.

  I press my lips into a tight line and agree with him. “Yeah, but you wanted to know. Are you mad?” I ask, worried he’ll say yes.

  “Not at all,” he shakes his head and walks into the kitchen toward me. “Why would I be mad? I asked for names, and you gave them to me, but I’ve got to wonder why on some of them.”

  He reaches his arm out and scoops me up around the waist, pulling me into him.

  “I know a couple of them aren’t the best looking, but sometimes someone’s personality can draw me to them,” I admit.

  It’s true. Like Jeremy, he’s not the best looking guy, but he’s all right. It was his sense of humor and playfulness that attracted me to him.

  Brett leans down and puts his mouth next to my ear.

  “I fucking want you,” he growls, his warm breath pushing my hair away from my neck. “Reading that email made my dick jerk in my pants and now I want to fuck you.”

  Before I can respond, he swipes me off my feet, making me shriek as he carries me down the hall to our bedroom and tosses me on the bed.

  “We can’t do it right now,” I protest as my body bounces on the mattress. “What about the kids?”

  He ignores my words and locks the door.

  “Babe, I don’t care about the kids right now. I want to taste your pussy and then fuck you.”

  I watch in shock as he begins undoing his leather belt and slips his pants off. His erection springs forward out of his boxers, telling me he wasn’t lying when he said my email turned him on.

  “Fuck, Cathy,” he says, dropping to his knees as his strong arms grab my legs and pull me to the edge of the bed. “I need to lick your pussy right now.”

  The hungry look in his eyes says this won’t take long, so the kids likely won’t notice we’re gone. I begin to pull down my yoga pants, but Brett’s not so patient.

  In one swift motion, he jerks my pants and panties down, exposing my bareness.

  His head dips down between my legs, and within seconds, his tongue is lashing out against my wetness as his finger slips inside of me.

  I love the way this man eats my pussy; it feels so good.

  Throwing my head back, I prop my legs over his shoulders as his smoldering eyes look up at me, watching me squeeze my breasts as he brings me closer to orgasm. He adds a second finger while I continue to relish in the pleasure of getting my pussy licked.

  “Oh, god, baby,” I hum. “You do that so fucking good.”

  “Mhmm,” he grins, keeping his tongue in a steady rhythm against my clit.

  His tongue is swirling around my clit over and over as his fingers move at a wicked pace.

  “Fuck, Brett, I’m so close,” a raspy whisper escapes my throat.

  No sooner than I say those words, he removes one of his wet, glistening fingers and slips it in my backdoor. He knows having both of my holes filled will make me cum instantly.

  My body begins twitching and jerking as I reach
my climax and cum all over his face. I can feel my walls gripping both of his fingers, vowing never to let him have them back as my hips thrash about.

  “Oh, fuck,” I say, twisting around like a giddy school girl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hiss.

  I ride out my orgasmic wave on his face and fingers until my body stops jerking and I have to push his head away. My clit is too sensitive to take any more.

  “Was that good?” he asks, smiling down at me as he stands at the edge of the bed.

  I nod and mutter, “Mhmm. So good.”

  “Good, now it’s my turn,” he says.

  I start to sit up to reciprocate oral sex, but his hands wrap around my ankles and slide me closer to the edge.

  “No, I want you like this,” he says, resting my feet on his shoulders as he pushes his cock against my entrance. “You just let me fuck you and fill your pussy up.”

  Before I can agree, he pushes his way inside me as he holds onto my legs and begins fucking me. I’m powerless to move as he grabs my calves, raising my hips in mid-air to match his anatomy.

  It feels so good to have him inside of me knowing that my slutty behavior has him turned on. I can’t help but think what it will be like and how good he might fuck me when he sees me with another man.

  The muscles in my belly begin tightening again, and I can feel myself getting close as his thrusts pick up in speed and rhythm. Watching him fuck me so hard is such a turn on, and I can’t stop myself.

  “Oh, Brett,” I mumble. “Fuck me harder, go deeper.”

  My words send him into an oblivion, and he does exactly what I ask. As he brings me to another orgasm, I can feel his cock swelling inside of me as my walls clamp down on him.

  It’s only seconds later until I can feel his hot seed spilling inside of me. He grunts as he stands over me, sweat furrowing his brow.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Mom? Dad? Are you guys in there?” the door handle jiggles.

  “Fuck,” I whisper. “Yeah, baby, be out in one sec,” I call out to our son.

  “That was close,” Brett smiles at me.

  “Yeah, it was. And fucking good,” I wink at him.

  As we’re walking down the hall to rejoin the kids, he grabs my elbow and holds me back for a second.