The Crush

What would you do if your wife told you she had a crush on another man and that she wanted to act on it? Annie didn't actually say the second half of that, but it was sort of implied. She's always been pretty direct and practical, not the sort of woman to want to sit up for hours and talk about feelings. It is one of the things I most like about her. If she says something, it is because she wants something to happen. What's worse is that I should have seen it coming... but I am getting ahead of myself.

Annie is not actually her real name. Her parents named her Gloria. I met her at college. She was an 18-year old freshman, and I was a 23-year old grad student. We were both in the film club. We were screening that goofy old Elvis flick, Viva Las Vegas, when someone noticed that Gloria was the spitting image of a young Ann-Margaret. People started calling her Ann, and it stuck because it worked. We got to know each other, started dating, and by the end of her freshman year we were basically inseparable. The term soul-mate is a cliche, but in this case it probably fits.

We dated throughout her undergrad years. She was a hard-charger. She majored in mechanical engineering, and managed to complete her studies in 3 years. I was getting a Ph.D. in English and getting ready to start a post-doc. I knew she'd have lot of opportunities, and as practical as she was I knew she would not be willing to stick around with me unless I made a commitment to the future. So I started thinking about asking her to marry me. She was only 21, but mature, and I was completely head-over-heels.

I mentioned my plans to my friend Barry. He congratulated me, but I could tell he had his doubts. After a half-dozen beers, he finally told me his concerns.

"Dude, you guys started dating when she was like 18. And, weren't you like her first?"

I laughed. It had never occurred to me that having found a pretty girl who happened not to have slept around was a bad thing. "Yeah, so?"

"So, I mean, she's never been with another guy. Sooner or later, she's gonna get curious."

At first, I tried to laugh it off, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if Barry might not have a point. After all, I was no big stud, but even I had been with dozen or so women over the years, and I would not have traded those experiences for the world. I decided to confront Ann with Barry's argument.

She laughed. "Has Barry ever been in a relationship that's lasted longer than 3 weeks?" I shook my head no. "So maybe he isn't the best person for this sort of advice, eh?" That broke the tension.

"Look," she continued, "there are three ways to deal with this. First, you could just dump me because you're worried that at some point in the future, I'll get curious. Second, I guess I could go out and sleep with a bunch of guys. Heck, I could probably go to the frat house down the street and have like 20 of 'em pull a train on me. I'd consider all of that if you asked me to, but I'm not sure I'd want to be with a man who wants me to fuck other guys no matter what the reason is. Third, you could just forget this nonsense and ask me what you've been thinking of asking me. You know, I know I'm good looking. It's not like you were the first guy to come on to me... or the last... I'm not with you because I can't get anyone else. I'm with you because I love you. So yeah, I can't promise that I won't ever wonder what it would be like to be with another man, but we'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it. So, what do you think?"

It was weird. The sun was shining into our apartment. Her red hair looked like it was on fire. All I could think was how beautiful she was. Even though the conversation wasn't the most romantic lead in to popping the question, it was good enough. "Baby, will you marry me?" I asked.

She smiled, "you sure you don't want me to visit the frat house first?"

"Never."

"Then, yes, Dave, I will marry you."

That was ten years ago. She's now an associate VP at multi-national construction firm. And people still sometimes ask her if she's related to Ann-Margaret. I teach at a prestigious private school. We live in Connecticut, outside of New York City. No kids yet, though we're thinking about it. Like many married couples, we've had a few ups and downs over money and career stuff, but most of our friends consider our relationship a rock of stability. I guess I'd have said the same thing until last week.

I'd noticed Annie had been a little distracted. She sometimes got that way when work was pressing in, and I knew they were putting together a multi-billion dollar proposal to build a bridge down in the Amazon basin. We were having a nice dinner, sharing a bottle of wine, when suddenly she came out with it.

"Dave? You know that guy Greg at my office?"

"I don't think I've met him. You've mentioned him though."

"I've been thinking a lot about him recently," she said oddly.

"Is he giving you trouble?"

"Well, no. Actually, yes, but not in a bad way. Or maybe in a bad way." I don't think I'd ever really seen her babbling before. I was thinking it was sort of cute and about to make a joke, but then she continued. She took a deep breath. "I've been thinking of him sexually. I guess I sort of have a crush on him. He's getting transferred to San Diego at the end of the quarter."

Now it was my turn to be flustered. It seemed pretty obvious where this was going. She was attracted to her co-worker, and he was going to be leaving town soon, which made him safe for a fling. If she had just been relieved he was leaving town so she would no longer be tempted, she wouldn't have brought the whole issue up.

"Have you?" I asked.

"Not yet," she replied.

That one word -- "yet" -- sent me reeling. She had already made up her mind, and my only choice was how. She was looking at me closely, seeing that I had understood and looking for my reaction.

"I need a little time to think," I said.

"I understand." She paused. "You know, we always knew this day might come."

I nodded.

"Well, I guess I should do the dishes," she said as she stood and walked the plates into the kitchen. I poured myself another big glass of wine.

I sat there for a long while. Then I walked into the kitchen and snuggled her from behind. "I don't want to lose you," I whispered in her ear.

She squeezed my hand. "Don't worry, you won't."

"Okay," I said. She smiled.

I didn't quite know where that had left things. In the back of my mind, I was sort of hoping it was just a test, even though Ann has never been the sort to play that kind of game. When nothing happened over the next few days, I almost forgot about it.

I was grading some papers Friday evening when the phone rang. It was almost 7:00 and Ann was still at the office. I picked up expecting her to give me an ETA on when she'd be home for dinner. "We finished up the proposal," she said brightly.

"Great, come home and we'll celebrate!"

She giggled a bit. "We had a little party at the office. Jack broke out champagne for a toast." Jack was her boss. "I've had a couple of glasses. Can you tell?" She giggled again.

"Just a couple, eh?"

"Well, more or less, give or take."

"You want me to pick you up?"

"No, I'll get a ride. We're heading out in a couple. I just wanted to give you a heads up." She paused. "I'm bringing a friend homeÉ it's Greg."

I swallowed hard. "Oh.... well, what, should I go out or something?"

"No, please don't do that. I'll see you soon."

I was thoroughly confused at this point. So I poured myself a beer and waited.

I was in the den when I heard the door open. As I walked out to the living room, I saw Annie in the foyer. She looked radiant. A couple of drinks gives her a little glow and loosens her up, adding a sexy swivel to her walk. She was wearing a clingy red dress that looked a lot less conservative than it had this morning when she had it paired with a navy blazer. She walked over to me and gave me a big, wet kiss.

I heard footsteps and turned back toward the doorway.

"This, Dave, is Greg," she said.

He strode forward and gave me a firm handshake. I looked him over. He was a class A nightmare. About 6'3" with a narrow waist and a chiseled chin. Mediterranean complexion. Blue-grey eyes. Coal-black hair with just a hint of grey. His pin-stripe suit was perfectly tailored, his shoes gleaming. 100% ladykiller.

"Greg, can I get you a drink?" Ann asked.

"Sure, scotch and water?"

She nodded. "Back in a jiff."

If he felt as awkward as I did, he didn't show it. I gave him a wan smile.

"So, Dave, Annie says you teach at McConnell Academy? I went to Choate myself. Hated it." He said with a grin.

"Well, um, I guess it isn't for everyone. Some of our stu..."

I stopped as Ann reappeared. She handed Greg his drink and gave me a second beer. She had poured herself a big glass of white wine. Eyes gleaming she said, "so, shall we head upstairs?"

She led the way and I noticed that Greg seemed almost transfixed by the gentle sway of her behind. We followed her into the bedroom. She dimmed the lights as we entered. She pulled me aside and led me over to the armchair in the corner. "Honey, I want you here to keep me safe. And I want you here because I don't want any secrets between us. And I want you here because I love you." She sat me down and turned off the reading lamp behind me, leaving me in the shadows.

She approached Greg standing near the foot of the bed. She circled him, running her perfectly manicured red fingernails over his chest and shoulders. She pulled off his suit jacket, and then moving to his front, she removed his tie. Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open to expose his broad chest. She ran her hands through his thick chest hair, and then leaned forward to kiss his nipples in turn. Greg took a big swig of his drink.

She dropped to her knees. Greg slipped his shirt off completely, exposing his sculpted arms. She undid his belt, and then slowly pulled down his zipper and unbuttoned his pants. Looking up at him, she grasped his pants and slid them off his butt. They fell to the floor with a jangling of keys. As he stepped out of his pants, Ann ran her fingernails over the fabric of his silk boxers. Her fingertips tracing the outline of his bulge. He let out a little groan. With a delighted giggle she pulled down his shorts.

"Oh baby, no wonder all the girls are so upset to see you leave." He was still soft, but already huge. His cock looked like a thick dark sausage, and his balls were the size of plums. He was uncircumcised, and big veins ran up the side of his dick. Though Greg was elegant and trim, his prick was an ugly fat tool. At least it seemed that way to me.

Annie gently cupped his scrotum and ran her tongue up and down his shaft. Gripping his cock, she slowly stroked him, gradually pulling down his foreskin and exposing his thick, spongy glans, which she eagerly took into her mouth. As she sucked the head of his cock, she pumped his shaft up and down first with one hand and then with two as he got bigger and harder. In just a few minutes he was fully erect, his thick pole jutting out proudly. It was now the size of a tallboy beer can, maybe even a little thicker if that is possible. Annie seemed to be in awe, giggling as she struggled to handle his bulk. Finally, she seemed to give up. She stood up and ran her tongue up his chest, one hand still moving up and down on his shaft while the other massaged his arms and neck. After a few minutes of these intimate caresses, she stepped back and just looked him up and down.

Now it was his turn. He bent down and picked up her hem with both hands. Slowly, he lifted the fabric, peeling the dress off her body. I gasped as the material slid off her ass and I saw she wasn't wearing any panties. She raised her arms above her head to allow him to remove her dress completely. She hadn't worn a bra either. She turned to toss the dress over a chair, and I noticed that instead of her usual neatly trimmed auburn bush, she was now completely bare. I realized that she had planned all this in advance, and I couldn't help but be jealous at the thought of her shaving for him and spending the day bare-assed in anticipation of seducing him. I wondered for how long she'd been thinking of him, maybe instead of me even as we made love.

Greg definitely seemed to appreciate what he was being offered. He looked her up and down, admiring her lean legs, tight little butt, and those oh-so-perfect 34-c breasts. "Magnificent, just magnificent," he intoned.

She blushed lightly and giggled. He took her by the hand and sat her down on the bed. She scooted up and laid back, her legs spread invitingly. He crawled up onto the bed and started to kiss her leg, first by the ankle, then along her calf, and finally trailing his tongue along her inner thigh. She squirmed excitedly at his touch. He began to lower his head to her pussy, but she reached down and taking a handful of his hair, she pulled him up.

"I want it inside me," she hissed urgently, as she reached down and rubbed his cock along her slit.

He lifted himself up on his muscular arms, and then with a quick thrust, the tip of his pecker disappeared inside her. Annie threw her head back and gasped.

"Oh damn Red, you are so wet," he grunted and with two quick strokes he was completely inside her.

As she grabbed his ass cheeks and held him tight, her whole body jerked up a dozen times. "I'm coming. I'm coming already," she hissed, her eyes rolling back into her head and her eyelashes fluttering wildly.

He waited for her to finish, and observed her as she enjoyed the afterglow. She had her eyes closed and a big, silly smile on her lips. She was caressing her body absentmindedly, her fingers sliding over her still hard nipples as her hands gradually rose up and came together up above her head painting a tableau of sexual contentment.

With a big grin he started to move inside her.

"Oh, oh, slow, slow, go slow," she moaned, her big blue eyes now open and looking up at her lover anxiously. Annie's very sensitive after coming, sometimes so much so that she has to finish me with her hands. I could only imagine that she'd have an even harder time with Greg's oversized member.

He started gently pumping his cock in and out of her tight little pussy. Her labia were puffy, swollen, and they seemed to cling to his shaft as he slowly fucked her. She wrapped her legs around her waist, her arms encircling his neck. With each slow, deliberate thrust Annie let out a heartbreaking, sultry moan. She'd already finished once, and he might have chosen to simply pleasure himself, but instead Greg seemed determined to fully possess my wife.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

"Oh God yes," she gasped in reply. "More than okay. Much, much more than okay."

"You are so tight," he grunted.

"You're so big," she moaned.

He grabbed her around the waist and rolled over onto his back. She pulled her knees beneath her and rose up on top of him. Fully impaled on his shaft, she slowly ground her pelvis against his, as his hands reached up to cup and caress her full breasts. Her nipples were hard, little raspberries, and when he tweaked them, she groaned excitedly and started fucking him harder, rising up on his big shaft and then roughly lowering herself until he was fully inside her again. He grabbed her firm ass and encouraged her, now spreading her butt cheeks, and giving me a unobstructed view as his finger teased her puckered anus.

Over and over she rose and fell, fucking him harder and harder, faster and faster. She was gasping and wheezing now, completely lost in the moment, focused on nothing other than wringing the maximum pleasure from Greg's huge cock. And then suddenly she let out a lusty growl, her hips now thrashing back and forth as she climaxed a second time. I let out a pained sigh. She'd never had multiple orgasms with me. She collapsed lazily onto his chest.

He let her catch her breath, then they rolled over again. Annie pulled her knees to her chest, opening herself completely for him. And Greg, after a few slow strokes, began fucking her hard and fast, his huge cock pistoning into her pussy brutally.

Ann was gasping and grunting, letting out high pitched, almost pained, squeals on each stroke. For a moment, I was perversely pleased. I knew she didn't like it this rough, and certainly not after having come. I kept expecting her to ask him to stop, and the image flashed through my mind of him refusing, and me having to step in to save her.

But she didn't ask for help. Instead, when he slowed down momentarily to check on her, she grabbed his ass and grunted wildly, "No, don't stop, don't stop!"

He gave her a wet kiss and then resumed his remorseless assault on her pussy, his fat prick like a battering ram plunging over and over into my wife. My heart sank. I could never compete with him, with his looks and body and his cock. He was giving her the fuck of her life. There was no denying it. And she'd never be satisfied with me again.

I'd had enough. I got up and slunk out of the room unnoticed, Annie's cries of passion taunting me as I staggered down the hall and downstairs.

I locked myself in my study. It was obviously over. I'd lost her. I tried to replay everything in mind. What could I have done differently? Should I have exploded when she'd first mentioned her crush? Issued an ultimatum? By then, of course, it was too late. Temptation would have surely won out, bolstered by resentment at my attitude. By the time she mentioned it to me, she'd already decided to fuck him, and when she fucked him she'd realize what she had been missing.

I began to make plans. I'd have to move out. I could probably stay with my buddy Rich for a while, though even thinking of having to explain it all to him was painful. No, I'd stay in a hotel. Maybe apply for jobs elsewhere. Move away. Start over.

Then I paused. No, fuck that. That was the coward's way out. Anyone can just run away. It takes a man to fight. She was my fucking wife. Why should I let some two-bit gigolo take her away just because he had a big cock. Maybe that's what this was all about. We'd talked about starting a family, and maybe Ann was just subconsciously testing me, trying to see whether I'd fight to protect her and the kids. Well, if she wanted a fighter, I could fight. I got up and strode to the door.

Then I stopped. Did I even want to fight for her? I'd always thought she was different, a genuinely good girl, good person. But what if I was seeing the real her for the first time, a cheap whore, a slut who'd just been waiting for the opportunity to spread her legs for a big cock and a well-tailored suit. She wasn't even worth fighting for. She'd probably been doing this for years, fucking guys left and right, and the only difference now was that she wanted to add a little humiliation into the mix by making me watch.

I shook my head. I was just talking crazy. I knew my wife better than that. No this was just what it appeared to be. An office crush, the big 3-0 leaving her feeling old, and the natural curiosity of a woman who'd only ever had one lover. But whatever the causes, it was what it was. And she'd now been fucked better than she'd ever been in her life, and there'd be no going back. I slumped back down in my chair and just stared at the wall morosely for hours, my thoughts continuing to circle and churn even as I became more and more depressed.

At around 2:00am, I heard the front door open and then shut, and a moment later a car start up outside and drive away. I couldn't move however, and stayed in my office until Annie came looking for me a half-hour later.

She had showered. She smelled of soap and was dressed in a cozy bathrobe, looking not at all like a woman who had just spend the last several hours being fucked silly by a well-hung stud in our marital bed.