I Have Sex Outside Marriage But Always Make Sure
My Husband's Needs Are Met
by Dawn from Bristol
Something that always keeps my husband, Jack, very interested and excited is exchanging tales of my dates with a man he works with. This man is named Kyle and he also has a dating wife. I wrote about what Kyle told my husband after Kyle's wife, Toni, had her first extra-marital experience with another man. At the time I was very bothered that my husband would even tell anyone about me, much less share spicy details. What if Kyle told others? Then it sort of excited me that somebody knew about me.
I came to realize that swapping tales with Kyle was important for my husband's enjoyment of my trysts. More than once, when I haven't been on a date for a while, my husband has mentioned that he needs some new "material" to share with Kyle.
I then understand that I need to do my best to provide the "material" soon or Kyle may get bored. Kyle is sharing stories with my husband. He needs hot stories in return.
Like most sharing couples, my husband and I use my tales about my experiences to spark our lovemaking. We have even used a few of the tales that Kyle has told my husband to spice up our lovemaking. Most recently, my husband told me once again what Kyle said happened right after the first, unexpected date.
My husband gets hard without any help when he tells me about what went through Kyle's mind that night.
I will relate it to you from Kyle's perspective:
"When I realized that my wife had just hung up after getting what she assumed was my permission to fuck that guy, I couldn't believe it. I dialed her cell phone but it was obviously turned off.
That angered me. I wanted to call her. I wanted to tell her to get her ass home before I came and beat the shit out of both of them. Then I remembered that she was using his cell phone. I looked at the caller ID to get the number. It just said 'out of area.'
She had cut off communications so I couldn't intervene! I slammed things around and talked to myself – shouted actually. I called her every name in the book. I was filled with rage at my helplessness.
I took two stiff drinks. Finally, sitting before the television, I rubbed my cock through my pants and thought about what she was probably doing. Next, I got my cock out. It was dripping pre-cum. I stroked myself and soon released into my handkerchief.
How could I do that? How could I jerk off when I knew that, at that very moment, my own wife was probably fucking another man?
I sat there, sort of sick to my stomach. I was taking in everything, all at once. I realized that nothing would ever be the same between Toni and me, never, ever again. She would always have this experience, this infidelity. I wanted to throw something but instead, I started stroking myself again.
Pretty soon, I was imagining what they were doing, almost like being a voyeur. I realized that I was sickened by Toni's brazenness on the phone. How dare she think she could just call and have me agree that she could go and fuck some guy!
Bitch! Whore! Slut!
But I was also fascinated by the whole thing. I was sexually excited. That made me a little sick, too, I remember. I wondered if there was something wrong with me.
Here I was, sitting there getting some enjoyment, some pleasure, out of my wife's outrageous conduct. I couldn't believe it. I felt weak. My cock was still hard as a rock. I stroked it.
What was this combination of feelings? Outrage, curiosity, love, hate, anxiety, uncertainty: all those emotions and more flooded through me. And then there was pure, physical longing. I could not wait for Toni to return so I could satisfy these conflicting longings.
Finally, I looked at the clock and realized that it had been over two hours since Toni broke off the phone conversation. It hit me! I realized that this man had fucked her by now. Otherwise, she would have called or returned home.
She had betrayed our marriage vows. Oh yes, she would say that because I did not insist that she not do it, I had agreed that she should do it.
I cried, I actually cried. As I was crying, I hoped she would not come home and see me that way. Then I hope she would! Then I changed my mind. I didn't want her to come home till I could look less worried and concerned.
But I wanted her home in the worst way. I wondered what she was thinking at that moment?
Had she thought of me at all? Would she have any concept of the horrible hell this was for me? This was pure pain.
I went into the bathroom and washed my face and hands. My hands had been sticky with cum that I had not wiped off onto my handkerchief. I went back into the living room and settled in front of the TV. I wanted to appear casual and not panicky when she got home.
Another hour passed. Damn! Was she going to fuck him all night?
Just then, I heard the car. The garage door opened. Then I heard it close. I heard the kitchen door open and shut and her heels on the tile floor. I turned and she came into the family room.
She had a sheepish look on her face. I soon knew that she was a little drunk. It had never occurred to me that she would be driving after drinking too much. I had been so worried about her fucking that guy that I had forgotten that she could get hurt in a traffic accident. She is not able to handle more than a few drinks.
Maybe the drinks caused her to let down her defenses. Maybe the fucking was not really her fault.
She came toward me, slowly, searching my face for a sign of what I might do. I stood up and she fell into my arms. We embraced and swayed back and forth, just holding each other tight. She seemed small and vulnerable. She smelled of sex.
We kissed and I tasted the drink and the sure smell of another man's cum on her breath. I couldn't believe that I was not repulsed by that smell. Instead, I was eager to taste it again. She pulled back and smiled up at me. She seemed to know that I had tasted him. She sensed that I liked it, that I wanted it.
She leaned her head back and then rested her cheek on my shoulder.
'Thank you,' she whispered.
'Did you have a good time?'
'Yes, I did. Thank you for letting me.'
She looked up into my eyes. She was tipsy but in control enough that I knew she was searching my face to see how I was reacting. I tried to keep my cool. I thought how absurd it was that my wife had just spent hours in bed with another man and yet, here she was, thinking she could just come in and everything would be perfect.
No, I thought, it can never go back to the way it was, not ever again. She had now cuckolded me.
She studied my face: 'You didn't worry, did you?'
'Hell, yes, I worried! What do you think?'
'You didn't have to,' she said. 'See? I'm OK. I'm here with you now, like always. I love you so much. I love you for trusting me and letting me try this. I promise that everything will be even better between us. It will be better than before.'
'You think, so? I wonder,' I said.
'Oh, don't wonder. It was just sex. It was fun but not like with you.'
'You enjoyed it, right? What did you do? Did you do things with him that you don't do with me?'
She looked at me and her eyes cleared a little. She started to say something but then stopped. Then she spoke: 'I suppose you'll be asking next if he's bigger than you. Well, no, he's about the same. There is a difference between you, though. You use your equipment better. But I still enjoyed him, a new man. Can you understand how exciting that is for a woman?'
'I guess so.'
'It was less about sex, you know,' she said. 'It was good for my ego to have him want me. He wanted ME! That's something I haven't had for a long time. Oh, sure, you want me. But you're supposed to. You're my husband. Can you understand? This had nothing to do with unhappiness with you.'
'I guess I understand.'
Her eyes flashed with that devilishness I have come to recognize over the years.
'Come on,' she said. She grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward the stairs.
'Let's finish this in bed. I'll tell you everything you want to know. I want to. I want to share it with you. We did this together, really. You were really there, every moment, in my mind. I want you so bad now!'
Her comment about doing it together hit me wrong, all wrong. No, I wanted to say, we did NOT do this together. You did it for yourself and now you want to make me think we did it together? But I didn't say anything.
Strangely, I was excited. I wanted to hear the details so that I COULD try to experience being there, almost there anyway.
We went upstairs. I knew this would be an excruciating night, learning how she had given her body to another man. I felt threatened. But I also felt aroused as never before. Toni had noticed my cock was stiff. She had smiled when she saw it tenting my pants. I couldn't wait to hear the details of her date.
Somehow, I also knew that this was just the start for her, and for me. My wife was no longer going to give herself only to me. This was the beginning. I was so excited that I nearly came as she lifted her skirt to show me her swollen pussy lips.
Then, my mood changed. Jealously roared through me. Then, just as quickly, I knew that I was experiencing the most intense feelings a man can have.
I was experiencing the most tender pain. I wanted more.
Sex with other men is like foreplay for sex with my husband
Molly from Mobile
Sex with other men is life foreplay for sex with my husband. Usually, when I return from another man, I am busy telling my husband what my date and I did, and making certain that my husband "gets off" while I attend to his physical needs as I fill his imagination with descriptions of my adventure. He loves to hear that. He has many questions that I answer as faithfully and fully as I can. Considering that I have been having sex with another man, perhaps faithfully is the wrong word. But perhaps because I have come to see my sex with another as foreplay for my lovemaking with my husband, it is appropriate. Somehow, I am not cheating if I share everything with my husband. Sometimes, in return, he shares with me what he was thinking about while I was away receiving my pleasure with another man.
We both know that he is technically a cuckold and I am probably what most of you would call a whore or slut. He does not consider himself a cuckold, and I do not either. I simply have sex - never lovemaking – with other men and tell him about it as a prelude to the most fantastic lovemaking with my husband. Period.
His desire to share me with other men has led to a deeper, warmer, more complete and contented marriage. I have brought little "secrets" that I have learned from other men to our marital bed and I delight in the gentle and subtle teasing that is part of all this.
I am not the woman I was before. Sometimes I wonder how he put up with me. I rarely initiated sex. I often found it getting in the way of chores or other things. I resisted sex when I felt the children might wonder what we were doing. Now, we have sex more often and both of us agree that it is better, deeper and more physical. It is more emotional.
The thing that I feel mostly since I started seeing others is a sense of freedom. I have the freedom to choose to be with a man and my husband accepts that desire. I admit that I get great devilish pleasure at heading off to meet a date while my husband stays home babysitting.
That simple act of leaving him to domestic duties is a feast of exciting emotions. The role reversal is incredibly erotic!