Advice from the Internet

"I'm close!" he grunted.

"Please say my name when you cum," I begged. I was fully invested in the idea that I was someone else, even if Jake wasn't totally buying it.

"I'm almost there Hannah! Oh God! Hannah! You feel incredible! Your ass feels incredible. I'm gonna cum now! Oh God, Hannah!" he moaned. Then I felt his cock twitching and throbbing in my rectum as he unloaded in my ass. I came too, pushing back against him as hard as I could, as he drove his cock in deep and drained his balls into my intestines. He grunted like an animal. I screamed like a banshee.

I had no idea that anal sex could be this good!

We collapsed onto the mattress, next to each other. "Hannah, that was unbelievable," he said. He went to kiss me. I roughly pushed his head away. "No kissing, you bastard!" I said.

"I'm sorry. I forgot," he said sheepishly.

"You have a cheating heart." I replied.

"What? No I don't!" he objected.

"Your wife told you this week that kissing other women was out of bounds, and then I told you just today that kissing is out of bounds, and yet you try to get away with kissing. That's your cheating heart," I said, with the most scolding tone I could muster.

"I just forgot for a minute that you aren't you," he said. Then noticing my disapproving look, he added "Er, I mean, I forgot that you aren't my wife."

"Sure, you just forgot. You expect me to believe that? Excuses, excuses. One lame excuse after another." Then I winked at him and smiled, so he knew it was still just a game. He smiled back.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to use the bathroom," I said.

"Where are your rings?" he asked.

"Rings?"

"Wedding ring?"

"I'm not married. Your wife wouldn't arrange for you to fuck a married woman."

He just shook his head. I wondered if he thought I was taking this too far.

I waddled over to the ensuite bathroom and closed the door. My butthole wasn't sore, but it was certainly feeling well used. I was intending to use the toilet, but then I suddenly recalled that I was supposed to eat my husband's cum out of our cake's pussy. Well, why not her ass too?

All of a sudden, I had a vision of me lying on my back on the bathroom floor, while our cake squatted over my open mouth as if I were a Turkish toilet. She looked a lot like Mallory. She was young, thin, cute, and pushing hubby's cum out of her ass into my open mouth. Inexplicably, I found this mental picture highly arousing. Wouldn't it be the ultimate humiliation, to let my husband's lover, so superior to me in every imaginable way, use me in such a disgusting fashion? And wouldn't I deserve it, to be so defiled?

My treacherous cunt let me know that this is what it wanted. Somewhere from deep in the subconscious part of my brain, a nerve connected straight to my pussy and set it off throbbing. It wanted me to be humiliated and degraded in the worst way by her, our cake, and furthermore to willingly accept it. No, not just willingly, enthusiastically!

I knew it wasn't totally farfetched. I saw it in porn clips when I was researching how to have anal sex. At the time it didn't do anything for me, but now, suddenly, I could see the appeal. At least, for my sick, depraved, perfidious pussy. If I was going to do that for my cake, I should practice now to make sure I could actually do it without chickening out.

I turned on the exhaust fan to make some noise, and squatted in front of the tub. I twiddled my clit with my left hand, and reached behind me with my right hand, cupping it under my abused butthole. I pushed and felt globs of warm sticky cum plop into my hand. I lifted it to my nose and smelled. Just as I expected, it smelled like a mixture of cum and ass. But a lot more like cum than ass.

I kept rubbing my clit as I extended my tongue hesitantly to taste the puddle of warm cum in my hand. It wasn't so bad. In fact, the musky smell was strangely erotic. I felt myself getting hot, like I could cum again. I opened my mouth, pressed my lips against the palm of my hand, and slurped the subtly ass-flavored cum out of it. I swirled it around in my mouth before swallowing it. My arousal skyrocketed at my latest perversion. I didn't question it. I only knew I wanted more.

I reached again with my hand and managed to expel another dollop of cum into it. I pushed my fingers through my abused hole in an attempt to extract every last drop. I liked the feel of my softened butthole on my fingers, and my soft butthole liked the feel of my fingers on it. Then as I slurped down this second dollop of ass flavored cum I came again, collapsing onto the floor and licking my fingers, and clutching my pussy. I had to fight hard to keep any sound from escaping my mouth, but somehow I managed. I really didn't want hubby to hear anything.

I got up off the floor and flushed the toilet for hubby's ears, even though I hadn't used it, and then washed my hands and face, and used mouthwash. When I emerged from the bathroom, hubby was on the bed, lying on his back with his cock shriveled up all coated in ass juice and lube. I went over and sucked the shriveled thing into my mouth. "Tastes like ass!" I said.

"I wonder why!" he chuckled. "Hey! That was oral! That's off limits!"

"Oh, sorry. You're right. My bad. You're a lot of fun in bed! I've half a mind to steal you from your wife."

"You can try, but you won't succeed."

"Wouldn't you rather have a sexy perverted butt slut like me instead of your frumpy tight-ass prude of a wife?"

"No. I love my wife. I wouldn't trade her for anything," he said, with a big smile.

"Suit yourself," I said. "She'll be home soon. I'm leaving now," He sat up and looked at me with a confused expression.

"Leaving?" he asked.

"Yes. My work here is done," I said.

"Hannah, I had a wonderful time. Do you think I'll ever see you again?" he asked.

"Jake," I said. "That will be up to your wife. You'll have to ask her."

I picked up my bottle of lube and the butt plug, put them in the sequined clutch, smiled, smoothed my skirt, turned, and waltzed down the stairs and out the front door.

Reaching my car, I climbed in the back seat and, like a quick change artist, changed back into my jeans and tee shirt. I peeled off the knee-high boots and put on my usual shoes. I removed the choker necklace and the earrings. I pulled my rings out of my purse and put them back on. Then I hopped into the front seat, and removed all of the makeup with the bottle of makeup remover I'd bought that afternoon. I used the mirror on the visor to ensure that my face was make-up free and realized I still had the pigtails. I shook out the braids and brushed my hair. A few minutes with the nail polish remover and my nails were no longer red. I used a wet wipe to scrub off as much of the vanilla perfume as I could, and applied a liberal amount of my usual perfume to mask it. Then I drove a half a block and pulled into the driveway like always.

When I walked into the door, hubby was in the kitchen. "Boy, you sure changed clothes fast," he said.

I glared at him silently. He looked me up and down. I could tell he noticed that I had my rings on.

"Oh! I mean, 'Hi honey! How was your day?'" he chirped.

"It was good," I said. "How about your day? Did anything interesting happen?"

"Yes. I thought you were joking when you talked about outsourcing anal sex to someone else."

"Oh?"

"It was a very ingenious solution, very creative of you, to send Hannah here tonight, even though I asked you not to."

"Did you enjoy her?" I asked.

"Yes I did."

"Was she pretty enough?"

"Very pretty. Very pretty indeed."

"Prettier than me?"

"No. Just about the same as you," he smirked.

"Was she sexy?"

"Yes. She was very sexy."

"What was she wearing?"

"Uh, she was all in white. White miniskirt, white crop top, and white knee-high boots."

"White panties?"

"Nope, no panties."

"No panties! How slutty!"

"Yes, very slutty!"

"What else?"

"Uh, Nothing else?"

"Come on, there has to be something else!" I demanded.

"Well, let me see," he mused, rubbing his chin. Then his eyes lit up. "Pigtails. She was wearing pigtails."

"Pigtails!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, braids. Two braided pigtails." He smirked. "And ... makeup. She was wearing, like, professional makeup. And, now that you mention it, perfume that smelled like vanilla."

He stepped forward and took my hand, he smelled my wrists and my neck. "This is your normal perfume. You really thought of everything!"

I smirked. "Did she look sexy in pigtails?"

"Yes she looked really sexy," he replied. "And you look amazingly sexy right now."

"What, in jeans and a tee shirt, and no makeup at all?"

"Yup!" he grinned.

"Stop trying to change the subject. What else was she wearing?" I said, moving forward to put my face about twelve inches from his.

"Um, nothing?" he said, looking into my eyes.

"Nothing? Really? Think harder. Wasn't there anything else she was wearing when she arrived?" I asked, moving my face even closer. I could see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to recall what it was I must be getting at.

"Nothing at all?" I purred.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "She was wearing a butt plug!"

"Wearing a butt plug? What, like on a chain around her neck?" I asked.

"No, in her butt, of course," he replied, laughing.

"She showed up here with a butt plug stuffed in her ass, and no panties?" I whispered, with my lips almost touching his. "I can't imagine doing something like that."

"I think you can," he whispered back.

I kissed him and felt the front of his pants to see if anything was going on. He wasn't fully hard, but he wasn't fully soft either. "Did you like fucking her in the ass?" I purred.

"Yes, I really liked it a lot. It was amazing. Thank you for arranging it."

"Do you think she liked it?"

"She seemed to. And she seemed to cum like crazy. Or maybe she's a really good actor. I guess I don't really know. You'll have to ask her." he said softly, putting his hands on my shoulders.

"I'll do that," I said. "Hey, I'm getting hungry. I don't feel like going out, and I don't feel like cooking. But there is a frozen pizza in the freezer. Should we just heat it up for dinner?"

I had a couple glasses of wine with the pizza, and he had beer, as we chatted about various unimportant things. We didn't talk any more about Hannah or the evening's activities. But during pauses in the conversation I was thinking about it. I wondered if this strange role play I initiated was anything at all like what the commenters on Reddit had in mind when they suggested it. I wondered if things were going in a good direction.

I felt like I was making progress. I was still fantasizing about Jake being with other women, and the fantasy was more powerful than ever. But the prospect of it actually happening seemed much less frightening. I tried to think up some other role play scenarios. Also, I knew eventually I would have to find us a cake. But how in the world would I ever find her?

Chapter 5 - I reveal more than I intended.

The next several days seemed to pass quickly. We had a nice weekend together. We went to a baseball game, grilled in our backyard, watched movies, and just hung out. The next work week was unremarkable. Except I continued to give my husband at least one blow job every day, usually first thing in the morning. I felt like I was making progress against my gag reflex. If I kept this up for another six months, maybe I would be a deepthroat queen! During that time we also had PIV every day or two, which was a lot more than we were having before my Reddit post.

As for my work, the gallery in San Francisco let me know that my pottery pussies were selling quickly and at a good price, so I made another batch and shipped them. I also was feeling energized and more productive on my usual art projects.

Meanwhile, I wore one of my butt plugs every day. At first for just a few hours but gradually increasing until I could keep the medium size one in all day. I could tolerate the big one for four hours, and was working up to having it in all day. I'd have it in at work in my studio, or doing housework, or grocery shopping, or giving hubby a morning beejay. As time went by, I found it easier and easier to insert it. I slept with it in a couple of times, making sure not to let Jake notice it. I don't know why, but I never let him know I had it in. I was starting to think about going back to the toy store and getting an even bigger one! I decided the smallest one was too small to ever be of much use, and I threw it in the trash.

One Friday evening we were sitting in the living room eating take-out Chinese food on TV tray tables and watching baseball on the tube. As we were finishing up, I mentioned that we hadn't been back to Via Veneto for a while and maybe we could go tomorrow.

Jake scowled. "We never continued our conversation about Mallory, that you started the last time we were there," he observed.

I got up and turned off the TV. "How about now?" I said.

I sat down in a chair facing him and waited.

He just looked at me and waited for me to speak. Eventually, he asked "Where did we leave off?"

"It wasn't really about Mallory," I replied. "It was about you and me."

"True," he agreed.

"She's just a stand-in for any good looking, sexy babe," I observed.

He just looked at me quizzically.

"Do you remember my friend Amber? From college?" I asked.

"Of course! We went to her wedding," he replied. "You were a bridesmaid. But last year Jim left her for a low-life he met at work, and they divorced. He turned out to be the scum of the earth."

"Right! They had a 2 year old, and she was pregnant with their second, and meanwhile he was carrying on an affair with this home wrecker."

"I remember. What an asshole!" Jake snarled, angrily.

"Someone sent her the evidence, anonymously. After she confronted him, he agreed to break off the affair and work on reconciliation. But he didn't actually break it off. Then all of a sudden he moved out to be with his affair partner."

"Cheaters suck!" Jake growled, pounding his fist into his other hand.

"Honey, she was blindsided. She had no suspicions at all. She thought everything was fine. Then all of a sudden she's a single mom fighting for custody and alimony and child support."

"So what does that have to do with us? You don't think I would ..." Jake asked, with a pained expression.

"Honey," I said in a near-whisper, "we were talking about maybe starting a family soon."

"Yes, we were," he replied, nodding his head.

"I have my annual gynecological exam soon. I could have my IUD taken out."

"Okay!" he said, smiling. "I'm ready when you are."

"Jake, honey?" I said, looking into his eyes. "I don't know if I'm ready. I don't want to end up like Amber." Suddenly I teared up. I tried to stop the tears and couldn't.

"What? No! I could never do that to you!" he objected, reaching out and taking my hand. He gave it a little squeeze. "You know that!"

"Do I? That's what Amber thought. But she was blindsided. She thought everything was good, and then... She.. she ..."

"Jim is a motherfuckin' asshole. I'm not," Jake growled.

"Jake, half of the marriages in this country end in divorce. And most of the rest are unhappy. There's more dead bedrooms than, than, than, I don't know what!"

"Not ours."

"Honey, a woman's body changes when she has a baby. You might not like it very much."

"I'll like it. How could I not like the mother of my children."

"You say that now. But I'll put on weight. My breasts will be saggy. I won't feel good about my appearance. My lady bits might not work right for a while. I'll be exhausted. I won't always feel like having sex. Or making myself sexy for you."

He just shook his head while I continued. "Meanwhile, you'll meet someone. She'll be young and pretty and charming and she'll catch your eye. She'll be new and different and exciting. You'll start chatting, and you'll fall for her. You'll try not to, but you will."

"No I won't," he objected.

"Yes you will." I replied. We glared at each other. "You'll fall for her, and if you act on it you'll think you can keep it a secret, and that it'll be okay. Until one day you slip up or someone outs you, and it's not okay anymore."

"How can I convince you?" he asked.

"I don't think you can," I said, sadly.

"It hurts me to hear you say that. I don't get it. Does this mean we can't ever have kids, then?" he replied.

"I have to know that you won't cheat on me and you wont leave me," I said, matter-of-factly.

"What does that mean? You just said I can't ever convince you."

Sighing, I replied slowly. "I said you can't convince me that you won't fall for someone, not that you won't cheat on me or leave me for her."

"I still don't get it," he replied, throwing his hands in the air and letting them fall in his lap.

"What it means is, I can accept you fucking other women. I can even understand if you catch feelings for one of them. What I can't handle is the thought of you cheating on me or leaving me for one of them."

"I don't want to fuck other women!" he objected.

"You will, though," I replied, resolutely. "It's inevitable. Be honest. Some day you'll find another woman attractive and you'll think about fucking her. If you haven't already. Thought about it, I mean. I'm not accusing you of actually cheating on me. Yet."

"Nope. Because I'm married to you. I took a vow."

"A vow."

"Yes, 'forsaking all others', and all that."

"So I'm just the old ball and chain. You look at me and see me as the reason why you can't do things. Because you took a vow."

"That's not what I meant! Don't put words in my mouth!" he groused.

"Honey, I don't don't want you to think of me as the reason you can't have what you want. I want you to think of me as the reason you can have everything you want."

"That's not how it works."

"It could be."

"No. That's now how I think."

"It's not a matter of thinking. It's a matter of feeling."

He threw his hands up in the air again. "You're exasperating!"

I shrugged. "I'm sorry."

"While we're on the topic..." he said, pausing to look deeply into my eyes. He didn't finish his sentence.

"What topic?" I asked.

"The topic of wanting to screw other people," he replied.

"Okay, while we're on the topic, what about it?" I asked.

"Well, I told some of my buds at work about what you're doing. And I asked Brian what he thought of it. This make-believe or whatever it is. Pretending to be someone else."

Brian was Jake's best friend and his best man at our wedding. I liked him and trusted him. But I hoped Jake wasn't talking about our sex life with Billy again.

"Role playing, I think it's called," I said. "But I'm not sure I'm thrilled about you discussing our sex life with them. Shouldn't this be just between us?"

"A person has a right to seek the advice of his trusted friends," Jake replied, scowling.

"Okay, I'll grant you that," I admitted, nodding my head. "So, what did they say?"

"They all said that they thought you were softening me up for, well, you know, you fucking other guys. They said maybe you were already doing it."

"What? Those idiots! Look, we already discussed this! You didn't believe me? You listened to them instead?"

"I told them they were wrong. That you would never do that. But they put the idea in my head. And now with the shit you were just saying, I'm starting to wonder if they have a point."

"Let me get this straight. They think that either I'm fucking around on you, or that I want to fuck around, and that I'm trying to manipulate you into thinking the same way?"

"Yes. They say you want me to fantasize about fucking another woman, because you're fantasizing about fucking another guy. That you're setting me up to ask for an open marriage."