by Vivian Ward
“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,
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.
“You didn’t put one thing in your email,” he says.
“What?”
“Who and when do you want first?”
Oh shit. This is really going to happen.
Chapter 9
After doing a lot of communicating, Brett and I have decided that it’s best not to tell anyone we might normally talk to or see about any of this.
The primary reason is that we don’t want any guys we see on a regular basis to assume I’m always available for them. Another thing that neither of us wants no part of is an emotional attachment to the other guy.
I’m glad that we both decided this, but at the same time, I’m kind of bummed. I really wanted to see if Jeremy would be a willing participant as a third. I’ve fantasized enough about him that it would be so fucking awesome to have him in the bedroom, but I’m not going to bring it up to Brett.
I don’t ever want him to worry about him having a fear that I’m emotionally attached to someone.
That’s another rule that we’ve decided on, too. If I’m going to become a hotwife, we cut it off if anyone begins to develop feelings whether it be the other guy or me. Brett likes to refer to the other guy as “stunt dick.” We both agree that it’s easy enough to find new stunt cock so that our marriage is never at risk.
The two of us sat down together and created a few online profiles for swinger and dating sites that all pretty much say the same thing, that we’re looking for a third to help sexually please me with no strings or commitment attached.
We’d prefer something ongoing if everything works out so that we don’t have to constantly find a new partner and so I’m not with too many people, but we also know that things don’t always work out.
Since he already has a Tumblr account that he posts to, I started my own Tumblr blog. We use the blogs as a way to post to each other and share different scenarios and things that we think are hot. It’s much easier to communicate with pictures instead of words, especially when it comes to sex.
I know it sounds silly, and I should be able to talk to my husband about sex, but it’s not the easiest thing to do when you have kids running around all hours of the day. Instead, we’ll cruise Tumblr until we find something that interests us, post it for the other person to see and then we visit each other’s blogs from time to time to find these little gems.
Well, to say from ‘time to time’ is a bit of an exaggeration. This new fantasy and lifestyle has almost become an addiction, occupying every space of my mind at almost every minute of the day.
I can’t stop thinking about sex.
It’s all I want. 24/7
Using the Tumblr blogs are also much less embarrassing because it allows us to post a hot picture or short video of a woman getting fucked by two guys at once rather than saying, “Hubby, I want to suck some guy’s dick while you fill my pussy up.” The pictures make it so much hotter.
Back in my single days when I had friends with benefits, there were a few guys that I only slept with once because the sex was bad or our schedules didn’t work out, or we just stopped talking for one reason or another. And it’s okay if the same thing happens now, but it’s always better to find someone long term.
I started chatting with a guy named Dave. He was a bit on the younger side, only 22, but claimed to have experience in the lifestyle with threesomes and pleasing another man’s wife. While we don’t believe everything I read, Brett said this guy was a flake and that he’d never meet up. I wanted to prove my husband wrong so I asked him to meet us at the park just to say hi and make sure we all click before we move things into the bedroom.
We all agreed to meet at 11 o’clock, at the park up the street from our house while the kids were at their grandma’s house. After waiting for Dave for 10 minutes, my phone vibrated in my pocket, indicating I had a new message.
It was Dave, claiming to have car problems. I hated the fact that Brett was right. After that, we headed back home and I’ve never spoken to Dave since that day. I didn’t eve bother replying to his lame excuse.
We’ve chatte
d with a few other guys since then, but nothing has panned out.
Brett has done his fair share of research on living this kind of lifestyle, both good and bad experiences, and apparently, there are a lot of flakes out there. Guys who don’t show up or disappear for no reason.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, some guys are very pushy and dominating. We’re hoping to find someone in between, but with the way things have been going for the past couple of months, I’m beginning to think we won’t find anyone.
For the past couple of months, all I’ve done is talk to what seems like a zillion different guys. Aside from Dave standing me up, I almost met one other guy, but it didn’t even get that far.
He seemed promising but we never made it far enough to schedule the exact time or place of meeting each other. The conversation sort of died before any details ever emerged.
The rest have been all talk, no action. It’s like they all want to have a threesome, but when it comes down to it, they all turn to chicken shit and back out.
“Babe, I wish we could find someone decent online,” I say to my husband as we sit on the front porch watching the kids play outside.
I love our house but hate the subdivision we live in. There’s a little boy who lives across the street that’s an asshole. He’s a lot bigger than the other kids his age, and he uses his size to his advantage, so we have to pay careful attention to the children when our boys play with him.
“I know. Me, too. Too bad I didn’t tell you about my fantasy a long time ago, back when Jeremy worked with you. I know you liked him,” Brett says.
“I know! Oh my god! But that might have been bad. I might have come home freshly fucked every day.”
“Would you have ever snuck away at break time with him?” Brett asks, his eyes smiling at me.
He knows the answer, but he wants me to say it.
Smiling, I part my lips, “Yes.”
“I knew it!” he grins. “What would you say if I gave you permission to fuck him now? Would you take it?”
“What?” I ask.