Smoke and Mirrors

I was going nuts, and actively ignoring the little voice in my head that was begging the question of where and how my loving wife had picked up such a willingness – and such a talent – for sucking my cock. I sure hadn't showed her those tricks.

But all of my concentration at the moment was centered around the exquisite sensations of Ann's mouth on my super-hot cock. I couldn't help myself; I started thrusting upward with my hips, driving more and more of my cock deeper into her mouth.

I was even penetrating the opening to her throat, as she took every bit of me, the way she had the previous week. That was something she'd never been able to do without gagging.

Her hand was rhythmically massaging the base of my dick, feeding my meat into her maw, and she was giving off liquid sounds of pleasure as she worked me with her mouth.

It was all too much. I tried to warn her that I was reaching the point of no return, but she just looked up at me with devilish eyes and doubled her efforts.

I don't recall if I cried out or not. All I know is that liquid fire raced from my scrotum, through my shaft and exploded out the end of my cock.

I fired off a rapid-fire succession of hot cumshots into Ann's throat, and she swallowed every last drop. She kept me firmly in her mouth until she'd milked me of every bit of semen I had in my body, then pulled her mouth off my limp cock and smacked her lips like a cat with a bowl of cream.

Ann crawled up my body and nestled herself in the crook of my arm, purring like some seductress.

I had to ask.

"What brought that on?" I said. "And where has it been all this time?"

"I just wanted to please the man I love in a way I hadn't done much before," Ann said. "I've ... We've kind of let things slide a little bit, and I ... wanted to do something special for you. You don't mind, do you?"

"Would you like me to return the favor?" I asked.

"Oh no!" she said, a trifle too quickly and bit too strongly. "That's OK. I ... took care of myself while I was sucking you off. Let's just 'nuggle and rest up, so you can fuck me tomorrow night."

"OK, baby, whatever you say," I said guardedly.

Truth is, I was deeply concerned now. Ann was clearly hiding something, and it was pretty obvious she didn't want me getting a close-up look at her pussy. Then, just as we were dropping off to sleep, she said something that made me think even more that something was wrong.

"Jimmy?" she said softly. "I hope you always know that I love you."

"I love you too," I mumbled.

But as I listened to Ann's rhythmic snoring, I knew that if my wife was cheating on me, it was going to take an awful lot of love for me to get past it and maintain my marriage.

Loyalty and family values mean a lot to me, and if Ann was seeing someone else on the side, I would have a hard time forgiving her.

But was I willing to divorce her over it? I wasn't sure. It is easy for outsiders to say, "oh, well, she's cheating on you. Divorce the faithless bitch." But when it's happening to you and your marriage, it's not that easy.

I had 14 years of my life invested in Ann, I loved her and she was the mother of two young children. And whatever faults she may have had, Ann was a good mother. She was conscientious, caring and concerned. She had the knack for finding just the right balance between a gentle and a firm hand with Bethany and Will, and they adored their mother.

There was another thing, too, and that was the sex. I was getting some of the best sex of my life at that moment, and I wasn't sure I wanted it to stop.

So I had a dilemma on my hands. I could willfully ignore my screaming suspicions, and thus keep my family and my marriage intact and continue to enjoy this great loving. Or I could investigate and learn the truth, with the result that I'd probably lose my wife, see my family break apart and enter a period of little or no sex.

As it turned out, Ann didn't give me much choice.

The next night went like the previous Thursday. There was no baseball game on the tube, although there was a college football game. Ann wasn't quite as overtly seductive, and she had me in the kitchen helping her, the way I had for so many nights before.

But once we got alone in the bedroom, it was a repeat of the night before. Ann started out sucking me up to full hardness, then pushed me back on the bed when I went to roll her onto her back and fuck her. Instead, she got on top and rode me, something else she very rarely did.

As she worked her body up and down on my dick, I reached up and fondled her jiggling breasts, squeezing the flesh and lightly pinching the nipples. And as I did, the thought came to me that I was going to miss those tits when she was gone.

The thought made my cock wilt slightly, so I put it out of my mind and concentrated on the big finish.

But later, after Ann had come, after we did our ritual post-coital cuddling and after she fell asleep, I realized that I had thought the unthinkable. I had visualized a life without her, and it depressed the hell out of me.

We made love again the next night, but it was pretty much the same vanilla sex we'd engaged in before this all began.

As a result, I began to think about the pattern, and realized that whatever was happening was happening on Wednesdays.

There was the nervousness on Tuesday, the restless unease I had detected earlier in the week. Then she came home utterly transformed on Wednesdays, fucking my brains out in a way she'd never done before and treating me in a kingly manner I'd never seen before. Thursday was a little more of the same, except she wasn't quite as deferential. By Friday, she was almost back to her old self, except she still wanted sex. By the next Monday, she'd been the old Ann.

We did spend some time making love that Saturday. The university was playing on the road, so we didn't have a game that day, and we'd taken advantage of a beautiful early autumn day to get some projects done around the house.

We were chatting as we worked, and I started asking a few questions about work, asking her how things were going. I really wasn't trying to dig up any dirt; I was just curious, because she never really talked about her job.

But the way she just skirted my questions made me wonder if what was going on was linked to her work. She was supposed to be working those Wednesday afternoons, which was why the whole scenario had me puzzled.

I had my suspicions that she was cheating on me, and that it was happening on Wednesdays, but it didn't seem to fit with her work schedule.

Again, I put my worries aside and tried to make our rare afternoon sex session enjoyable, and it was. We spent a lot of time playing with each other, and I recall now that was really the last time we were so playful in bed.

Once again, Ann was a little nervous on Tuesday, and after I got to the shop the next day, I called her office just to see if she was really there. She was, but she did sound a little guarded. I was going to call again that afternoon, but got sidetracked by a problem with one of our suppliers that required a trip to a nearby town to fix.

But when I got home that Wednesday night, the third one since this all started, Ann did something that convinced me I needed to get to the bottom of this, that willful ignorance was no longer an option. Regardless of the consequences, I had to know.

Ann didn't have dinner going when I got home that night. There was a pizza sitting on the table and the remnants of another pizza where the kids had sat for their meal. I could hear Bethany upstairs in the bath, and Will appeared to be in his room playing some game.

I called up to Ann, and she said she'd be down in a minute, that I could grab a beer and some pizza for dinner.

About 10 minutes later, she came down the stairs and I just stared. She was dressed in a satiny robe that clung to her curves like a second skin, and it was obvious she was naked underneath it.

She sashayed up to me, wrapped herself around me and kissed me deeply. Her mouth smelled like peppermint candy, she had on some exotic perfume and she was quite well made up.

But that's not what galvanized my cock into attention. She was naked under the robe, all right, except for a garter belt, stockings and high heels. I discovered this when she backed away from me slightly and opened the robe to expose herself to me.

"You like?" she asked softly.

"Uh, yeah," I stammered. "Yes, I do."

"Good, because I have a real treat in store for you tonight, lover boy," she purred. "Something you've always wanted, but never thought you could have."

"And what would that be?" I said, almost afraid to find out.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," she said. "If you'll get the kids put to bed, I'll be waiting to give you an experience you'll never forget."

Ann was waiting for me when I walked into our bedroom after putting the kids to bed. She stood there in her purple garter belt and stockings, just standing there with a provocative pose, lightly twirling her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

She had lit small candles and placed them in strategic areas of the room to give it a soft, seductive glow. I was told to sit in my chair that occupies a corner of the room, then my wife strutted over to where I was seated.

As Ann squatted in front of me, giving me a full view of her wide-open and very wet pussy, she slowly removed every bit of my clothing, until I was sitting back with a hard-on that could cut stainless steel.

Like I said at the start, Ann was a walking wet dream, and we had always connected on a primal level. Regardless of what my mind was telling me, my body was responding enthusiastically to what she was doing to me.

Softly and slowly, Ann licked and teased at my cock, but not really sucking it. Then she reached down with one hand and began to slowly stroke herself. I just gaped at this. I knew Ann masturbated; so did I at times. But neither one of us had ever watched the other do it, yet here she was, giving me a digital display.

Finally, she spoke, in a low, soft voice that sent shivers up my spine.

"Jimmy," she said. "I have something I want you to have, something I've always denied you."

It was almost telepathic, because at that very moment I happened to look over at the bedside table and saw a bottle of some sort of oil. Suddenly, it added up.

"You don't mean..." I said hesitantly.

"I do," Ann said, nodding her head slowly. "I've decided to let you fuck my ass."

I was floored. Very early in our marriage, I had played around with her ass a couple of times, sort of testing the waters, if you will, and had been shot down rather ruthlessly. After awhile I got the message and had never revisited the subject.

Now, out of the clear blue sky, she was offering her ass to me. Somehow, I didn't believe it was something she'd come up with on her own.

Still, my cock jerked at the very idea. Ann has a very succulent butt, and while I may not have verbalized my desire for a butt fuck from my wife, in the interest of harmonious relations, I'd visualized it in my mind many times.

Ann stood up then, walked over to the bed, climbed on and got down on her hands and knees. She had her head down slightly, her butt up in the air, and I just stared. I figured I could worry about my marriage some other time. Right then, I was going to fuck my wife's ass while it was still being offered.

I got up on the bed behind her and slid my fingers between her legs. Ann's pussy was a dripping well of arousal, and she groaned as I rolled her clit around with my fingers.

I idly wondered what had gotten her in such a state, but I didn't wonder very long. I was going with the flow, and I rode with it. I leaned over, pulled Ann's hair aside and gave her a soft kiss on the nape of her neck, then slowly kissed and licked my way down her back.

Ann shivered with lust as I used my lips on her hot skin. She felt like she was on fire as I slowly worked down to her butt. Once I got there, I planted a couple of slow, wet kisses on each cheek, all while working the dew of her arousal up over her pink puckered hole.

I slowly worked my middle finger around her sphincter, just getting it relaxed, while my other hand was playing a concerto on her pussy.

"Oh, God, Jimmy!" Ann wailed. "Quit teasing me and fuck me. Do it before I change my mind."

"Oh no, you're not backing out now, honey," I said with a voice thick with passion.

It was time, however, to move things along. I reached over to the table and picked up the oil, which was scented with some kind of fruity aroma that was actually quite pleasant. I dribbled a liberal amount down the crack of her ass and worked the lubricant around her hole.

When I felt like I had enough, I slowly worked a finger around her anus until it slowly entered her body.

Ann gasped as I methodically worked my finger back and forth, and around and around, working to get her open. Little grunts and groans escaped her lips as kept my finger churning in her back side while I added a little more oil.

At length, I added a second finger, and began to get serious about getting her ass ready for me. I had an erection that was almost painful in its hardness, a dripping piece of iron that was ready to fuck anything that was presented in front of it.

"Are you ready?" I asked. Ann just nodded her head vigorously.

"Yessssss!" she gasped. "Fuck me, Jimmy!"

I got up on my knees, holding my cock tight at the base and aimed it for her ass. I didn't get it in the first time I tried, and I slid deep into her drooling pussy. I pumped her there a couple of times, and I would later reflect that her pussy seemed a little looser than usual.

But my mind was on sexual autopilot and I wasn't thinking of anything but getting my cock in Ann's ass.

The second time I tried, I got it in. I pulled out of Ann's cunt and pushed hard at her back hole. I could feel her tensing up slightly, so I told her in soothing tones to relax, and she did. That did the trick.

I suddenly felt my cock enter a tight, oily hole, and I vaguely heard Ann squealing in some weird combination of pain and pleasure. I was only dimly aware of it, because my mind was so completely focused on the friction of her tight walls on my boiling cock that I was blocking everything else out.

As I got into a rhythm, I felt one of Ann's hands snake back under her body to work her throbbing hard clit, and I could tell she was on the verge of a massive explosion. I helped her out by reaching under and clasping my hands on her dangling tits, squeezing her flesh in time to my inward thrusts.

I wish I could say I fucked Ann's ass all night long, but by the time I finally got my cock in her ass, we'd built up our lust to such a high level that neither of us could last very long.

But, man, it was good while it lasted. I worked my cock in a faster and harder rhythm, grunting and groaning from the sensations of Ann's rectum around my dick. Ann was shimmying and shaking as she teetered on the brink of her climax, and orgasmic pants were unintelligible.

We were getting so close, and when she finally shuddered real hard with the onset of her orgasm, I couldn't hold it back. It felt like my cock was a machine gun, shooting out bullets of cum deep in Ann's twitching ass.

I emptied myself of everything I had, deep in my wife's butt, as we thrashed on the bed, together on our knees.

We finally collapsed on the bed in a heap of sweat-covered arms and legs. But I remember there wasn't the kind of cuddling we normally engaged in after sex. We just fell together, Ann took off her heels and we sort of lay there together.

Ann finally drifted off to sleep, but not before she mumbled an, "I love you."

But sleep eluded me. My mind went back over the encounter, and those of the two previous Wednesdays.

The first two times, she'd been almost giddy in her lust. She'd been overly solicitous toward me, and the sex had been very loving, very affectionate.

But this one had seemed like she'd been doing it for herself, rather than for me. Oh, the orgasms had been real, on both of our parts, and very intense. However, it was as though she had let me fuck her ass because she had to, rather than because it was something I wanted.

And while I had long wanted to fuck her ass, I hadn't broached the subject in years. So where had she gotten the idea? I suspected that whoever she was having the affair with had put her up to it.

It was with that unnerving thought that I got up, blew out the candles and crawled back in bed with the stranger who had once been my wife.

Nothing was said about the encounter the next morning, and that night, Ann was very affectionate as we made the kind of love we'd always done, with me starting her crank and her responding.

But I could already sense a wall coming between us, a disconnect as my suspicions took firm root. I knew I couldn't sit by any longer, so I made arrangements to take off work the next Wednesday so I could follow Ann around and see what she did.

The following Saturday was another home game for the university, and something happened that disturbed me, and presaged the outcome of events. We were tailgating before the game when we were greeted by Jack Spradling, Ann's boss, who was with two men I didn't know.

I had only met her boss once before, at the company's Christmas party, and I had gotten a vague whiff of unpleasantness. He just seemed too interested in my wife and what she was doing the whole night, while ignoring his own wife, who was sitting at the bar getting seriously drunk.

In fact, I generally wasn't impressed by any of her co-workers, based on what I saw that night. There just seemed to be a little too much of a party hearty mentality among everyone I met there. A few of the men tended to look down their noses at me, and a few of the women seemed to be openly flirting with anyone they encountered, myself included.

Nevertheless, I was cordial when Jack and his friends showed up at our little pre-game gathering. I offered them a beer, which they accepted, and we chatted a little about the upcoming game.

After a few minutes, Jack asked Ann if she would accompany him to where he apparently had an RV set up. She walked off with them a little ways, but she looked back and saw me watching them intently, so she told Jack something to the effect that she needed to get back to our tent.

That seemed to anger Jack, and I saw them engage in a heated discussion that ended with Jack saying something about Wednesday.

Ann just walked away, back to where we were, found herself a cup, put a little ice in it and filled it with whiskey, which she sucked down in one throw. Then she did it again.

"What was that all about?" I asked her.

"Oh... nothing," she said hesitantly. "He had something about work he needed to tell me."

"Looked like bad news," I said.

"It's nothing major," Ann said as she poured herself a third whiskey. "I'll deal with it next week."

When I pressed her about it, she told me in no uncertain terms that it was work-related and none of my concern. Her tone of voice told me to drop the subject.

Ann quickly got shit-faced drunk, and got sick during the second quarter, so we left. All the way home, she kept mumbling an apology, for what, she wouldn't say.

Over the next few days, I could sense that our lives were falling apart, and I still didn't know why, but I had resolved that I was going to find out.

Ann was even more nervous than before, weepy even, on Tuesday. We had been going through the motions of marriage, circling each other – and the elephant in the room that had come between us – and I think the strain was getting to her.

I wasn't sure what I was going to do if I discovered my suspicions were correct, that Ann was having an affair. But what I learned that day pretty much made the decision for me.