"Um, no, I've never fantasized about my wife with another man. Sounds more like a nightmare," I replied.
Carl grinned. "Don't knock it till you try it."
I laughed. "I've never had root canal either, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like that either."
"Whatever, man, I'm just saying, there are a lot of benefits."
I don't even know how we got into this conversation. What had started out as a periodic staff happy hour had somehow turned into Carl and me locked in this most unexpected discussion. It was surprising for a lot of reasons, not least of which that Carl and I were casual acquaintances at best. He was in sales, I'm a tech writer, and I doubted we'd exchanged more than a dozen words in the three years I'd been at the company.
Somehow it had come up that we were each married the same number of years -- six. I'd made a casual (and untrue as a matter of fact) joke about not having sex anymore, when he offered that what spiced his marriage up was when his wife started seeing other men.
Carl was about the most unlikely proud cuckold you could imagine. He was a big, muscular guy. His rolled up sleeves exposed tattoos on his arms. He was loud and outgoing, with a real alpha male vibe, and yet, here he was extolling the virtues of letting his wife cheat on him.
"First of all," he continued, "it'll make her a tiger in the sack. She'll do shit with her fling that she'd never do with you, then she'll feel all guilty about it and try to make it up to you. There's a reason why one warning sign that a woman is having an affair is that she suddenly starts to initiate sex more often. Even if you give her permission, she'll still feel guilty, and that guilt is the surest path to great sex."
"Second, it gives you a free pass. Even if you don't use it, knowing that you have a get out of jail free card in case you ever do decide to knock off a piece of strange ass is great. It lets you flirt, get lap dances, whatever, with no worries."
"Third, and this is hard to arrange, but the ultimate is actually watching your old lady get laid. It's like watching a porno up close and personal, man. Super fucking hot, and guaranteed to get your dick glass-cutting hard."
I have to admit, even though I had no interest in letting, much less encouraging, my wife Susie to cheat, I was fascinated with Carl's monologue.
"How long you been doing this?" I asked.
He grinned. "Well, Bruce, to tell you the truth, it started even before we were married. The first time, I guess, was right after we first moved in together. Bridget went out with some friends to a concert. I can't remember why I didn't go. But whatever, she gets drunk, runs into an old fling after the show, and fucks him in some bar bathroom."
"Well, she gets home. It's like 3:00am, and I'm like, 'did ya have fun?' Purely innocent question. But she has a total meltdown. Tears, apologies, just the whole shebang. And I'm pissed, real pissed. And she's all like, 'I'm so sorry. How can I make it up to you?' I figure it's over anyway, and I might as well get a hate-fuck out of it. So I started reaching under her skirt. And she's like, 'No, baby, not like this, let me get cleaned up.' But I wasn't taking no for an answer. I'm like, 'no, fuck you, baby, you fucked this guy in a bathroom, you're not saying no to me."
"So, I throw her on the bed, and she's squirming, trying to get away. So I grab her hands and hold them above her head, and just tear her panties off. She's asking me to stop. But I didn't. I basically raped her, I guess," he said with a leer.
"But man, the second I got inside her, it was like flipping a fucking switch. I mean, she was soaked, real sloppy seconds, and I'm just fucking her like a man possessed, and suddenly she's moaning and groaning like a $3 whore, bucking her hips, panting. She cums hard. I can feel her pussy just spasm. And I can feel my balls start to tingle, so I pull out and kneel on her chest. I'd never done this before, but I shove my dick into her mouth and she just swallows it all."
"I didn't even get a soft. Not even a little. Flipped her over onto her stomach and shoved it back in her snatch. Anyway, you get the picture. We fucked until the sun came up. Easily the best sex of my life."
"That does sound hot," I had to admit. "So, you guys were just off to the races?"
"Yeah, something like that. Well, it took time. She didn't cheat again for a while. Not until after we got married. That was another weird story. We were down in the Keys and..."
"Hey Carl, man, you wanna boogie, I need to get home." It was another sales dude, Jackson, interrupting.
Carl turned to me. "Sorry man, I got to go. That's my ride. Anyway, good talking to you."
"Yeah, same," I replied.
I couldn't get the story out of my head. I knew I wanted to hear more, but I couldn't figure out how to make that happen. For all I knew, Carl spent the rest of the evening regretting what he'd said. And anyway, even under the best of cases, what do you do? Walk up to the guy and say, "Hey, buddy, tell me more stories about your wife getting fucked by other dudes?"
But even though I didn't have a plan, I definitely started finding ways to hang out more with Carl. Nothing weird, but if I saw him in the lunchroom, I'd drop by and chat, and I made sure to hang out near him at the happy hours. But I didn't get anything more out of him until a few months later when softball season started.
I'd never played ball much, or really any sports. But I was pretty fast and could leg out enough choppers to not make me a total embarrassment on the company team. It was mostly a chance to drink beer, anyway, though Carl and some of the other guys still took it pretty seriously.
Anyway, long story short, we got to know each other, and he turned out to be a pretty cool. We had some shit in common, same age, married the same amount of time, both Giants fans, and both into first person shooters, and of course a lot of stuff we didn't have in common, he was a big jock, a heavy drinker, and a happy cuckold.
That came back up after a softball game. We'd gone to a bar for a few beers, and everyone was heading home, but Carl was just settling in.
"Hey, man, it's getting late," I noted. "You need a ride?"
"Naw," he replied. "I'm gonna hang here for a while. Stick around."
I laughed. "I wish I could, but Susie would kill me."
"I don't need to worry about that, Bridg is out on a date." He gave me a wink.
That got me back in my seat.
He grinned at my surprise. He checked his watch.
"Yup, she's probably just sitting down to dinner. And in another minute, he'll have his hand down between her legs to make sure she's not wearing panties."
"This is a regular?"
"Yeah. She met this guy on a business trip. Hooked up with him out there, and now every time he comes to town, they get together."
"Does he know she's married?"
Carl laughed. "Yeah man, he knows about me. Knows I know too. He likes to send me pictures of them together."
I said nothing, hoping he'd whip out his phone and show me, but when he didn't I said, "That's wild."
He laughed again. "Well, we all have some wild shit in our past, right? I'm sure your wife has some interesting stories from back in the day."
It was my turn to laugh. "I think the craziest thing Susie ever did was letting an old boyfriend take some topless shots of her, and yeah, there was this one time we were in Cancun where she lost her luggage and ended up going out to dinner with no panties."
He grinned. Then he got serious. "Hey, man, I hope this shit doesn't make you uncomfortable. A lot of guys find this weird. I'll stop talking about it if you want."
"No, no," I replied, maybe too quickly judging by his smirk. "I mean, I not interested in the lifestyle for myself, but I have to admit, it is fascinating."
I left shortly thereafter, but from then on when we got together Carl was pretty open about sharing details.
He told me about that long weekend in the Keys after they got married. Bridget had been at the hotel pool, and ended up flirting with a handsome English dude, until finally Carl basically told her to just fuck him already. And apparently she did, not just once, but she basically went with the guy for the weekend.
"It was crazy man. She moved her shit into his room, stayed the nights and everything, and she'd just sneak away to see me a couple of times a day to give me sloppy seconds."
He told me that she had three regular lovers. The guy from out of town that he'd already mentioned, and two local guys that she saw on occasion. One of them was so into the cuckold play that he wouldn't see her unless Carl called him personally and arranged it.
Then there were the one offs. Dozens of them all told, I'd guess, though I only got details on a few. Some were real cliches. Bridget had hooked up with the pool boy, for instance. She fucked a cop to get out of a speeding ticket.
Some were real extreme. She let herself get picked up by a rough-looking black guy in a club one night, and ended up getting gangbanged by him and three of his friends in a ratty motel room with Carl watching from the parking lot to make sure they didn't try to keep her. But there were also a lot of spontaneous ones.
Carl and Bridget were having dinner in a swanky restaurant, and the waiter picked her up right in front of Carl and banged her in a storeroom off the kitchen. Several of those turned into watching opportunities, like the time she hooked up with a co-worker at one of her office parties with Carl discretely following.
Those stories got under my skin. My sexual fantasies had always been pretty vanilla. You know, the usual cheerleader, famous actress, cute waitress thing. I watched some porn online, of course, usually happy enough to click on whatever was near the top of whatever site I happened to visit.
But Carl's stories got me thinking, and pretty soon I was searching for "wife" videos. Now, a lot of those are obvious bullshit. Yeah right, that girl with the tattoos and the fake tits getting piledrivered by a guy with shaved junk is really an amateur. But some of the videos that came up were pretty damned convincing, and hot. Seeing a woman get taken, often with her husband filming or helping out was just wild. Who were these people?
At some point, I mentioned the wife porn thing to Carl and he grinned knowingly.
"I don't think you'll find any of Bridg," he said, eerily reading my mind. "Though, I can't be sure that some guy didn't secretly film her and post it." My dick chubbed up at the thought. Then he pointed me to some specialty sites that were full of what seemed to be actual amateurs.
Now, I had no interest in being the husband, but there is something definitely primal about that whole fucking another man's wife thing, and as I watched those videos, I was definitely identifying with the other man, although just as it was difficult to envisage Carl as a happy cuckold, I am hardly "bull" material. I'm average height, average dicked, slender, thinning blond hair, not the usual African-American muscle head who seemed to be doing most of the cuckolding in these videos.
Also, I couldn't help but fantasize about getting with Bridget, especially after Carl let slip at one point that I was "her type, brainy." I mean, I'd never even seen her, but from the way Carl described her, she was a sexual dynamo, and, well, obviously easy. In fact, I was pretty obsessive about searching for her, although realistically, I knew it was both unlikely that she had a video online, much less one under her name.
At some point I even stumbled onto a story site. Hundreds and hundreds of these stories. Slutty wives, cheating wives, crazy female domination stuff. There were either thousands of married women fucking strangers like bunnies, or an equivalent number of horndogs fantasizing about it.
I got more drawn in. I started researching the issue. Not only were there hundreds of videos and thousands of stories, there are actually dozens of scholarly books and articles on cheating wives. It turns out, this is one of the most popular fantasies out there, and some scientists even think the phenomenon explains things as diverse as dick size and shape, the female orgasm, sexism, and even why men are so competitive.
You can't get so involved in a thing without it bleeding over into the rest of your life. I was jerking off two or three times a week thinking about nailing Bridget, but soon I was thinking the same way about every married woman I knew. Just seeing a wedding band on a cute woman was enough to get me going.
It was making me coarser, I guess. You get that way when you're not just mentally undressing friends' wives, but mentally buttfucking them as well. It led to some awkward moments.
We were having dinner with Frank and Deb, and when she started talking about her new workout, I immediately jumped in to ask if she was taking up pole dancing. Luckily, the evening news had recently had a story on that as an exercise craze. When Susie started to tell me that her friend April was getting divorced, I blurted out, "What, was she having an affair?" Susie also one night caught me drunkenly staring at her sister's ass at a cook out.
I reeled it back in after that, but I now had to work at not being inappropriate.
I finally met Bridget at the company picnic. It was mostly a kids affair. Moon bounces, potato sack races, face painting, but the company execs encouraged us all to attend for "morale." After a while, most of the childless folks drifted off toward a gazebo with a cooler full of commandeered beers.
I spotted Carl and Bridget walking towards us. Well, spotted her mostly. She was hard to miss: tall, slender, high cheekbones, very blond, in a bright, flowered sundress. She reminded me of Paris Hilton in way, though surprisingly more severe. With her hair pulled back into a bun, she gave off an ice princess vibe which was very much at odds with what Carl had told me about her.
She could not have been more different from Susie. Susie is a short, 5'1", with a fresh, girl-next-door look about her: brown hair, big brown eyes, no makeup. Susie was in her usual jeans and t-shirt. Not that Susie isn't attractive. She is. And she's also one of those girls who, once you get her naked, you can't quite believe what she was hiding under those clothes.
I introduced Carl to Susie, he introduced me to Bridget. We chatted for a while, but the girls really didn't hit it off. Bridg is in interior design, selling high end furniture to really, really rich people. Susie is a social worker. Just different values and styles.
Anyway, after just a short while, we drifted off in different directions. But I just couldn't keep my eyes off Bridget, such a lovely exotic creature.
The company was providing food, and later in the afternoon a band started playing, and most of us clustered by the stage.
I noticed Bridget sitting alone at one point, looking bored. I asked Susie if she wanted to go over, but she just rolled her eyes.
"Um, I'll pass," she replied, "But go ahead if you want."
I think she was a little surprised when I did just that, excusing myself to go over to Bridget.
She didn't seem particularly excited when I walked over, but she gave me a small smile. I asked her if she liked the band. "They're okay." Whether they often went to see music. "Sometimes." What else she liked to do for fun. "Oh, the usual, seeing friends." I asked her about her job, and she got momentarily animated talking about some new designer, but I didn't have much to add, so that conversation sort of died out.
I was casting about for the right topic, the right opening, that would unleash the tiger within, that would cause her to grab my hand, drag me into the bushes, and fuck my brains out right then and there. But whatever the magic words were, I couldn't find them.
At one point I caught her glancing toward the stage, and when I looked up, I saw Carl and Susie dancing next to each other and laughing. Bridget had a sour look on her face, and I figured this might be a way to get her to more engaged.
"Should we show them how it's done?" I asked pointing toward the dance floor.
She sort of shrugged, but let me lead her out into the crowd.
I'm not a great dancer, but I'm not bad, and certainly better than Carl who was just sort of lumbering back and forth. Bridget was sort of getting into it a bit, shimmying back and forth sexily, her eyes darting back and forth from me to Carl who seemed to be ignoring her.
After a few minutes, the band went on break. Susie grabbed a hold of me, Bridget of Carl, we exchanged a few pleasantries and then went our separate ways.
On the car ride home, Susie was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, after a few drinks and a social event she's very chatty, but this time she seemed lost in thought.
"Everything okay?" I asked finally.
"Yeah," she sighed.
I waited. I knew she'd say more.
"So, you seemed quite taken with Bridget," she added after a pause.
I swallowed hard. "No, no, why do you say that?"
She gave me a skeptical glance.
"I mean, she is pretty, but I only went over because she seemed lonely," I said defensively.
Susie chortled. "I didn't realize you were such a good Samaritan."
"Yeah, that's me, always there to help out the attractive and bored. Anyway, you're one to talk. I turn my back for a minute, and you're dancing and giggling with Carl."
I looked over and caught a quick blush cross her face. But she didn't say anything, and I decided not to press my luck.
I spent a lot of time reflecting on that picnic. I was obsessed with Bridget. It was unhealthy. I knew it. But I couldn't help it. I'd been fantasizing about her for months, and now having finally met her, I was still obsessed, though baffled.
Knowing the searing passions that were locked up inside her made me desperate to find the key. What was it that triggered her adventures. Booze? Circumstance?
The more I thought about it, the more it occurred to me that the one time she had actually seemed close to letting go was when she'd seen Carl dancing with my wife. I wasn't sure what to make of that, and I didn't want to make too much of it since, after all, for all I knew, she was just tired or not feeling well that afternoon.
"You bastard," Carl rounded on me as I walked into the happy hour.
I took two steps back. He had almost six inches on me and a good hundred pounds. I'd be laid out flat before I could say a word.
He broke into a big grin and grabbed me around the neck.
"Man, I don't know what you said to Bridg, but boy you really got her worked up. She couldn't stop talking about you... well, except when she was sucking my cock. Damn, bro, I need to buy you a beer as partial payment for the wild time you gave me."
"Really?" I said.
He laughed. "Dude, you don't know?"
"Um, to tell you the truth, she didn't seem that into me."
"She doesn't like to show it. But it is like a dam bursting. Comes out all at once. I swear, if Susie hadn't been there to scoot you away, I'm guessing you'd have gotten what I got."
He laughed again. "Yeah, man, I think I'm gonna need to keep the two of you apart.... or maybe not," he added with a grin.
I wanted to continue the conversation, but at that moment a couple of other guys joined us, and we had to change the topic.
I hung around for a while, catching up with a couple of other guys, including Davey who'd been transferred out of my division a few weeks earlier. After an hour or so, I was done, ready to head back home.
Before I could make it to the door, Carl caught up with me. He was bombed, sloppy drunk, and he dragged into a booth with him and ordered another round.