My Husband's Adventures

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My Husband's Adventures Page 4

by Alex Hathaway


  “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” When she said it, she crossed her legs in a way that emphasized their musculature. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought she was trying to make a sexual impression on me. Well, I was not in the mood.

  “Alicia, every marriage hits the wall from time to time. Just being bored isn’t a good reason to fuck whomever you choose.”

  “Well, like I said, I didn’t fuck whomever I chose,” Alicia responded, “not until Jackson, anyhow.” Another attempt at a conspiratorial, sisterly grin.

  I wasn’t having any of it. “But there are classes, therapists. Share your fantasies, work on your lovemaking skills. You don’t need someone else’s husband when you have each other.”

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Alicia said.

  “How so?”

  “You’re married to one of the best fucks on the planet.”

  “Well, if you’re in love with someone, you love them as they are. You … make love to them.”

  “Yeah, well, that works … sometimes. But Brad has, well, shortcomings where Jackson doesn’t. And there isn’t a class for that.”

  “What do you mean?” I knew exactly what she meant, but after what she put me through, I was going to make her say it.

  “My husband has a small dick.” She smiled at me. It wasn’t hard for her to say after all.

  “So what?” I asked. “How is that my problem?”

  “Well … Jackson, he can fuck so much better. It just feels so good and he, well, he makes me do things and say things and feel things my husband just can’t.”

  I was offended, but I respected her bluntness.

  “But here’s the thing, Alicia: you shouldn’t have married him in the first place. If he couldn’t satisfy you, you should never have taken vows. You were just a slutty time bomb waiting to go off on someone’s husband!”

  She snorted. “Well, I didn’t know that at the time. Besides, I was in love.”

  By now we were almost shouting at each other.

  “You mean, you don’t know what a small penis is?” I mocked her.

  “Well I do now, but I didn’t then.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I had never been fucked properly!” Alicia yelled. “Not until after I was married,” she continued more calmly.

  “Ah, so you’re a slut then.”

  “I’m not a slut. I just … have my needs.”

  “So you did what?”

  “Well, a couple years into my marriage, I ended up fucking my massage therapist.”

  “And?”

  “He gave me the first vaginal orgasm of my life … and then a lot more of them.”

  “See? You’re a slut!” It was a pleasure saying it to her face, even if I wasn’t sure I believed it. Or if she was, then so was I. Fuck her!

  “Maybe. No. I don’t know. All I know is that pretty soon after my wedding, I was plagued by feelings of intense attraction for men not my husband.” She shook her head. “For a while, I ignored those feelings, I really did. I tried like hell to make my marriage work—in the bedroom, outside the bedroom. I found myself wondering if I had married too young, or married the wrong man. Or yeah, if I was … well, a slut.”

  For a moment I forgot about Jackson and had a few moments of empathy for Alicia. Daniel!

  “In the beginning, it didn’t occur to me that my husband wasn’t physically able to satisfy me,” said Alicia. “But it wasn’t just that. I guess, deep down, I had some unspeakable desire … a desire to be taken—just fucking taken! And my husband … well, I adore him, but he has never taken me.”

  I stopped asking angry questions. That is exactly what happened with Daniel and Jackson.

  Not that I was going to tell her anything about that. Between my legs I felt signs of life.

  “The guys I was attracted to after I married … they were guys with raw confidence.”

  “The massage therapist?” I prompted, wanting Alicia to jump ahead.

  “Yeah … the massage therapist. I was so damned attracted to him.” Alicia sighed. “I didn’t even know he had a big manly cock that made my husband’s look like a little schoolboy’s.” She laughed.

  I found myself laughing too. “But you found out,” I prompted.

  “Oh yeah, I found out many, many times,” Alicia said. More laughter from both of us. “He really filled me up with his big penis, and he knew just how to work it. He was the first man who … could really make me feel like a woman. Really take over my body. Well, you know.”

  I do. Goddamn it, Alicia, I do.

  “As good as Jackson?”

  “Not as good as Jackson. Oh no,” Alicia insisted.

  We exchanged another smile, and for a moment I felt a swirling, ludicrous pride. I quickly put on my serious face. I wasn’t here for giggly girl talk, damn it! Nevertheless, I felt another tingling sensation, this time extending through my hips and up to my nipples.

  “But your massage therapist?” I pressed.

  “Yes,” said Alicia. “And the weirdest thing is I didn’t even have a crush on him. I actually had a crush on his business partner, Bruce, who was built like a brick shithouse. This guy, Oregon, was hippie-dippie; he’d wear these tie-dye T-shirts and yoga pants. I only tried him because Bruce had the flu. Turned out this wiry dude gave better massages than Bruce. It was like he knew my body better and the points to push. And well, I guess my body turned him on because a few times I thought I saw his crotch bulge out a bit. It looked really big, but I told myself it was just fabric,” Alicia said.

  I crossed and uncrossed my legs, feeling the effects of the story.

  “I started coming in every week,” Alicia said, “but I made up a reason to come in on Bruce’s day off. And the baggy pants and hippie-dippie vibe didn’t bother me anymore. I started looking forward to his hands on my body.” She smiled. “Then, one week, I asked him to spend some extra time on my lower back, knowing he’d be near my ass. I made a point of lifting my ass in the air in response to his touch. Then I closed my eyes as if I was falling asleep. Anyhow, I opened my eyes a few minutes later and was shocked to see his big thick penis poking right out of his fly. I guess he liked to air it out sometimes when I was napping.”

  “And …?”

  “I gasped, and we had an awkward moment. I insisted that he had to let me hold it if he wanted to stay out of trouble.” Alicia giggled.

  “Just a little blackmail, huh?”

  “Well, I just had to touch it and hold it. Once I held it, I had to ask him questions about it. It was just so much bigger than Brad’s.” She knew she was getting me hot. “Anyhow,” she went on, “while I stroked him, I asked Oregon—yes, that was really his birth name—about his sexual history.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, I knew a lot about Brad’s history and basic lack of sexual experience. He’d had only three sexual partners before me. I wondered how different Oregon’s experience was. He seemed so confident with this body.”

  “And …” I said. This discussion was turning so hot that I had to mentally forbid my right hand not to rub my pussy under the table.

  “Well, it was hard to get the truth, because Oregon didn’t want me to think he was just a male slut,” she said, “but I finally got him to admit he had fucked well over fifty women, and at twenty-five, he was only a year older than Brad.”

  “Wow!” I said.

  “He lost his virginity seven years earlier that Brad. So, anyhow, I flat out asked him if he thought his big penis was the reason he got laid so much.” She paused, seeing how I hung on her every word. “He basically said yes,” she finally continued. “He said that he got a lot of word-of-mouth referrals. He liked that girls initially thought he was this weird hippie. He’d fuck the hell out of one of their friends, and then the whole way they looked at him changed.” Her eyes grew wide. “He told me that he had fucked—get this—five of his brother’s girlfriends. Turns out Oregon got all the dick in his family and his older brother got
none.”

  “Oh my god!” I said. By now I was rubbing myself under the table. I couldn’t help it. I’m pretty sure Alicia could tell, but I’ll bet she preferred me horny over angry. “Wasn’t his brother pissed?”

  “I asked him about that,” Oregon said. “His brother was really mad at first, but the second girl Oregon fucked threatened to tell the whole school he had a tiny penis if he said anything about her fucking Oregon.” She leaned forward and touched my arm. “Then, get this … she made him stand next to his brother and stroke his tiny dick while she worked Oregon’s big one.”

  “Oh my fucking god,” I said. Jesus, this was getting crazier and hotter.

  “And then she made him watch while Oregon fucked her brains out, humiliating him the whole time.”

  I was speechless.

  “After that, I guess Oregon’s older brother developed a fetish for bringing his girlfriends home and getting Oregon to seduce them, or arranging for them to see Oregon naked and see what would happen and if they were interested.” Alicia shook her head. “Well, needless to say, that gave me plenty of ideas for my own marriage.”

  “So you just jacked him off for hours while getting his sexual life history,” I said, trying to distract myself from my intense need to masturbate.

  “Ha ha! Not exactly. I got about twenty minutes of history out of him before our appointment was about to end. I did want to see him cum and it was a sight to behold.”

  “Messy?”

  “Oh yeah …” Alicia said. “The hottest part was knowing, with one hundred percent absolute certainty, that his big cock was going to be filling my pussy someday.”

  God, I felt a huge jolt in my pussy when she said that.

  “Of course I didn’t even know if it would fit. But he assured me that it would. Told me only two girls had trouble with it and they were both virgins. He said ‘I just need to get you warmed up right, and it will feel sooo good.’ ”

  “And …?”

  “And he was fucking right! I’m not sure if I’d ever cum on Brad’s cock. I thought I had, but after I came all over Oregon, I reconsidered.”

  We both paused, lost in our own sexual memories, I suppose.

  “Sometimes I think I need to write Susie a thank you note.”

  “Susie?” I asked.

  “Susie was the mother of one of his friends—the hottest mother around, or so he said. He credited Susie with teaching him how to use his big penis, how to warm girls up first, which positions to use, and how to last inside a woman.”

  “Jackson had an older teacher too,” I couldn’t help confiding.

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Alicia asked. “Anyhow, Oregon said once he got those tutorials from Susie, his success rate with women his own age shot through the roof. Before, they were curious. Now they were addicted.”

  I was having a hard time keeping myself under control. Thinking about Oregon fucking his older brother’s girlfriends was so hot for some reason. I was distracted from my purpose. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and once inside, promptly got my fingers into my grateful pussy.

  Sticking my fingers into my panties in a strange woman’s bathroom made me feel so fucking naughty that my knees buckled. I worked my pussy feverishly with my right hand, bracing against the door by gripping the towel rack with my left. I came while leaning against the bathroom door, rubbing my clit until it moved from “scratch that itch” to the unbearable lightness of cumming. As I spasmed, I pulled so hard on the towel rack, a screw popped loose. I was that close to knocking the whole thing down on my head.

  I pushed the screw back inside the rack and shimmied back into my panties. That rack could be Alicia’s problem another day.

  When I came back, Alicia had a sneaky look on her face. If she knew what I was up to, she was courteous enough to keep it to herself.

  “So … did you fuck Oregon in front of Brad?”

  “No. I tried to work that out, but Oregon didn’t want to do that anymore. I think a part of him wanted to move on from the person he was back then, fucking his brother’s girls. I tried to tell him this would be different, that Brad wouldn’t mind, but I never could talk him into it. Back then, I hadn’t talked to Brad about this, but I was willing to do almost anything to keep that sex going.” She sighed, then continued, “Not too long after, Oregon got engaged to a very possessive yoga bitch.” When I laughed, she grinned. “Still,” she went on, “the damage was done.”

  “Damage?”

  “That’s when I realized that I had married someone who was inadequate for me sexually, and that … well … our marriage was in trouble.”

  We were silent for a moment, letting that sober thought sink in.

  “But you kept cheating on Brad, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. And you know what? I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty about it.”

  “You didn’t? God, you are such a bitch!”

  “Well, I did feel guilty … for the married women, or the girlfriends. It seemed like every guy I wanted to fuck, or who could fuck me the way I wanted, had a serious girlfriend.”

  “Funny how that works,” I said pointedly.

  Alicia flushed. “I lived in fear that I would be caught. Maybe a part of me wanted to be. Just blow my whole damn life up, go back to being a broke bar chick. But thank god, it never came to that.”

  “I guess not,” I said, resisting a move for the jugular. I wanted to know this part of the story. “So, what changed?”

  “Well, one night Brad made me a really nice dinner at home. And then he told me something I’ll never forget. He said, ‘I think I’m a cuckold.’ I thought he was accusing me of cheating on him, and a stake went through my heart.” She pounded her chest for emphasis. But then she shrugged. “He had known about the cheating for a while. He had even read some of my text messages. Honestly, I don’t think I was too careful.” She met my eyes. “I was scared shitless. I figured Brad would dump me on the spot. But when Brad said ‘cuckold,’ he didn’t mean being cheated on. What he meant was that his place in our relationship was to be, well, submissive to me and my lovers.”

  “What?” I said, incredulous.

  “Yeah, he said he knew he couldn’t satisfy me sexually. He understood why I cheated on him, or at least he thought he understood. He said he needed to watch me fuck to make sure. I couldn’t believe Brad said that to me, and it took me some days to wrap my brain around it. I really did love him. And I realized this might give us a chance to save our marriage. And of course, I remembered what Oregon said. I’ll never forget it, because he wasn’t just referring to his brother. He said some men love the humiliation and intensity of seeing their girlfriends fucked right in front of them. He’d had a college roommate who was into it.”

  “So what happened?” I prodded.

  “Well, Brad did watch me fuck.”

  “With who?” I figured she would say “Jackson,” and felt my fists clench.

  “I was fucking the Cyclops then.”

  “The Cyclops?”

  “That was the nickname I gave this guy from CrossFit. He only had one ball, but he had one heck of a dick!”

  Once we stopped laughing, Alicia continued, “Yeah, so, my husband watched the Cyclops fuck me, and even though it wasn’t his best outing, I did cum all over his penis a few times, which made a big impression on Brad. After the Cyclops left, I forced my Brad to fuck me. I couldn’t feel his tiny dick at all.”

  “And …?”

  “Well, it was really hard for him … humiliating even. But Brad squirted inside my pussy while he thrust like a rabbit.”

  More laughter. We women can be so cruel.

  “Anyhow,” Alicia sighed, “it wasn’t easy on either side, but we came to an agreement. He told me I could no longer cheat on him, now that everything was out in the open.”

  “Holy shit. What did you say?”

  “I almost told him he could go stroke his little dick off to his heart’s content, because I was going to fuck wh
oever I wanted from now on … whether I told him about it or not. But then I gave it some real hard thought, and I realized I could live with his requirement. Truth be told, I probably needed his pushback. I was a bit out of control. If he hadn’t demanded some accountability from me, I would have seen him as weak outside the bedroom also … so weak I probably would have left him. And you know what?” Alicia said, raising her eyebrows. “I respected him for it. For taking a stand. For granting me freedom but imposing a limit.”

  “But that doesn’t get us to here.” With my orgasm behind me, I was all business.

  “Well, I still told him that I could fuck anyone I wanted, and that he could stroke his tiny dick off if he didn’t like it. I’m not sure if I could have stopped if he asked me. I’ve always wondered that. But he didn’t ask me to stop.”

  “How can you have any trust, living like this?”

  “Talk, talk, talk,” Alicia said, “and no cheating. No shortcuts. I told him I would never do it behind his back, and he could always choose to be involved. It’s been five years since then.” Alicia paused. “At first, Corrie, he did wonder if he could trust me. Then he saw that as long as I was getting what I needed, I had nothing to hide. Things … well, they changed for the better. I’m sure we’d be divorced by now otherwise.”

  Alicia had thrown me. I’m not a little-pink-houses woman, but her relationship was well out of my comfort zone.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Alicia hurried to add. “Things have definitely changed in our relationship … especially in the bedroom. I guess we both had to let go of something there. But we’re closer than ever. All my married friends would say that. So, something is working.”

  “So, what exactly has changed, other than the obvious?” I said. I felt like she owed me the story behind the story.

  “Well, Brad and I still fool around a lot, but it’s almost like we’re back in high school or something.”

  “High school?”

  “Yeah. You remember those early dates where you weren’t ready to fuck, so you kind of fooled around—”

  “Yes,” I said, kind of lying. I pretty much went straight from innocent kissing to fucking. But most of my girlfriends had taken their time, so I got Alicia’s drift.

 

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