Dare Me (A MFM Ménage Romance)

by Vivian Ward

  I can hear his heart beating, and it’s going a mile a minute. My heartbeat begins to match his as I go into high alert mode.

  Something’s up.

  Sitting up straight, he draws in a sharp breath of air and looks down into my eyes as I remain nestled against him.

  “I don’t know any other way to say this” he begins. “Cathy, I-I want to share you.”

  What did I just hear my husband say?

  “Share me? What do you mean?”

  I’m trying to keep an even tone in my voice as I sit up and pull the blankets around my breasts, holding the covers a little tighter than normal. What the hell has he been looking at or reading?

  Share me?

  What the hell does that even mean?

  His time on the internet is starting to worry me.

  The hesitance that’s coming from him is out of this world.

  “Have you ever heard the term, ‘hotwife’?”

  I repeat it in my head: hotwife. What the hell is hotwife? Is he just making random shit up?

  “Brett, why do you want to share me with other men?” I ask.

  “Because, Cathy, I get pleasure from giving you pleasure,” his warm breath tickles my earlobe. “And it doesn’t matter who gives it to you as long as you enjoy yourself.”

  The tone of his raspy voice as he says these words gives me goosebumps all over my body.

  I should be appalled, but I’m not. I should be angry, but I’m not. I should be disgusted, but I’m not.

  I’m not any of those things.

  I am, however, curious and intrigued.

  It’s no secret that I’ve had a few crushes here and there. And it was never limited to just the guys at work. Some of my crushes have been on his friends.

  The only difference is I never acted on them, and now he wants me to.

  This is a complete game-changer.

  Wait a minute, Cathy! This seems too good to be true. Why would he want to share you with other men? Think about this for a minute.

  “Oh my God!” my mouth pops open.

  “What?”

  “Wait a minute!” I shake my head as though I’m trying to wrap my brain around all this. “Are you giving me permission to sleep with other men because you want to have sex with other women?”

  It would make complete sense. Why on earth or what other reason would he have to give me permission to have sex with other men?

  Oh my God! What if he already has another woman?

  My mind begins racing and all of a sudden, I see vivid images flashing before me.

  The secrecy of his computer, the porn, the constant erasing of browser history and his kicked up sex drive.

  Holy shit! It all makes sense.

  My heart sinks to my stomach, into a dark void that has no bottom. I feel nauseous as I think about how naive I’ve been.

  I know for a fact that I’d never leave him for another man, but would he feel that way for another woman?

  “What?” his voice raises an octave as though I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. “No! Cathy, no!”

  He shakes his head and chuckles to himself for a second.

  “Babe, I love you. I love you so fucking much,” he cups my face in his hands as he stares into my eyes. “Listen to me for a minute.”

  I sigh a breath of relief when I see the sincerity behind his honey-colored eyes. He’s not seeing another woman.

  That was so foolish of me to think.

  “I don’t understand, Brett. How can you share me if you love me?”

  Chapter 7

  The soft glow of the television illuminates the room as I stare at my husband in disbelief. This is the same man who has given me shit for even so much as glancing at another man.

  And now he wants to share me with other men?

  He sets his phone on the nightstand beside him and turns to face me.

  “I know this might sound weird to you, but Cathy, I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. You have no idea how much you turn me on, and it turns me on to watch you in the bedroom.”

  “I-I don’t understand,” I shake my head. “What do you mean? Watch me in the bedroom?”

  “Just that. I love watching you, babe. The way you move, the way you come, the way you sound when you come. I love all of it.”

  I let this sink in for a minute as I study his face.

  His words are genuine, and his eyes are twinkling with excitement. There’s no doubt he's sincere about all of this, but it’s still so surprising.

  “You’re not seeing someone or looking for permission to—,” he cuts me off.

  “What? Cathy, no. I don’t want anyone else. I only want you, and I want to watch you enjoy yourself.”

  “Brett, I don’t get it. I mean, it sounds fun but why would you want to watch me have sex with another man?”

  Don’t get me wrong; it seems like a lot of fun. But letting my husband watch me fuck other men? That just seems….wrong, weird, strange and screwed up.

  It’s like cussing in front of the school principal. You’ve always wanted to do it, maybe even imagined of doing it but it’s forbidden so you’d never dream of doing it. And even though you’re an adult now and get to call all the shots, it still doesn’t feel right cussing in front of the principal, but he’s giving you permission to do it.

  Out of all the times that I’ve thought about a few of the guys I work with and some of Brett’s old friends, I’d never dare think about doing it in front of him. Hell, I couldn’t even do it behind his back.

  And now he wants a front row ticket to watch it all go down?

  I almost want to ask him if he’s on something, drugs or some other substance but I know he’s not. He’s sincere about this and is being so open about everything.

  “You look so fucking sexy when you’re cumming, Cathy. I love hearing all the noises you make and watching you get off. It would be really hot to watch another man please you.”

  He moves closer to me.

  “I want to listen to you make those noises for someone else and see you in different angles, making movements that I never get to see from my view when we have sex.”

  “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.”

  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,