tagLoving WivesCoveting Ch. 11

Coveting Ch. 11

byParis Waterman©

Monday afternoon Tessa ran into Margie when picking up her son Win.

Tessa: "Forgive me asking, but what the hell happened with you and Vince the other night?"

Margie: "I'm still asking myself the same question, Tessa. I keep coming back to that damn swing."

Tessa: "What about the swing?"

Margie: "You know me and my Sybian... the swing offered so many different variations."

Tessa: "I can agree with you on that," she said, recalling the double penetration she'd experienced. "I remember thinking that you and Vince would have bought one by next week."

Both women laughed at that and Margie nodded, "It has come up already. Vince is researching them. It seems there are lots to choose from."

Then Margie grew serious. "Look the kids will be here in a minute or so, but Tess, my emotions are on a roller coaster right now. I mean like last night, one minute I loved Vince and the next I wanted to kill him. I realize now that my fury was out of proportion to what had just happened, but at that moment I had to get out of there or I'd have done something we'd all regret.

"Once we were in the car and moving, I felt more in control and immediately calmed down. Vince on the other hand got extremely pissed. My hissy fit had denied him a chance to screw several women while I on the other hand had gotten very well laid, thank you very much."

"Well," Tessa said, "I understand if a relationship is good it's worth fighting for... I mean, I thought men were more jealous than women, but I may be wrong."

"How are they more jealous?"

"Um, they have to know who their children are for one."

"Yeah, and wives tend to be considered personal property for another," Margie added.

"True," Tessa agreed. "In a woman's eyes, men have alternatives and mobility. I think women are inclined to wait for sex. Without a man, a woman is passive and paralyzed, unless she chooses another woman, but that takes us in another direction."

"Does it?"

"Yes, let's stay focused, Margie. Men are the less jealous because a woman is passive and paralyzed. However, they either keep a woman on a pedestal or in the gutter in order to diminish their power over men."

"You seem to know a great deal about the subject," Margie said caustically.

"Hey, I graduated college. I learned a few things," Tessa laughed. "Throughout history, the sexual infidelity of women has been punished far more harshly than that of men. A man is cuckolded; a woman is unfortunate. The wife's infidelity strikes at the husband's honor and humiliates him. His infidelities, however much it hurts the wife, need not humiliate or dishonor her; it reflects on him rather than her, whereas hers reflects on him.

"So a man has more to lose from his mate's infidelity than the woman does. And so, law and custom protect him more; i.e., the famous, double standard.

"Did you know that recent studies reveal that 54% of married women have committed adultery?"

"What, I can't believe the number is that high?"

Tessa laughed. "Believe it. Ever since the pill things have changed dramatically. I mean, besides the obvious, there's an article I read recently that said a conflict is brewing over the assumptions we make with regard to women's fidelity that will breed more jealousy than ever before. The um, presumption being that the act of adultery leaves women confused and guilty."

"What?" Margie blurted. "It's not jealousy... its envy."

"You make a valid point, Marge, we tend to think of jealousy in sexual terms... but others have compared envy and jealousy as: Envy being a two-party transaction; while jealousy entails three. For example: we envy a good another person has. While we are jealous of a rival who threatens to take away something we love."

"I don't know... I think you lost me there," Margie said, looking around to see if the kids were headed their way. They weren't, and she turned back to Tessa.

"So Marge, do you feel its okay to come onto a guy but get pissed when Vince looks at another woman?"

Margie's eyes teared up. "Oh for Christ's sake, here I go again. I tell you, Tessa, I've been feeling so insecure lately," Margie admitted. "I wanted to become the kind of woman he wanted, you know... so we swapped with you and Danny. That seemed okay, because you and me and how we... well, you know. I figured Vince was sure of himself, but he isn't. But by the time I discovered it, I was making myself something I wasn't. I was humiliated when he started in with those other women. My jealousy thermometer went ballistic."

Tabby and win came running out the school doors leading the pack, and ran straight to their mother's arms, thereby ending the conversation.


"So what the fuck happened with you guys?" Danny asked the moment the opportunity presented itself.

"Beats the shit outta me," Vince responded. "I was sitting on the couch getting ready to bang Cynthia. You may have seen us, I don't know. I mean, you were banging Tessa... you and the other guy... she was riding the swing and all."

"I recall Margie was right there with you and Cynthia, but that's all. I had other things on my mind."

"Me too, that's why Margie caught me off-guard like she did. I mean, we were out of there half dressed. Hardly had a chance to tell anyone we were leaving."

"How is she now?" Danny asked hoping that the relationship between the two couples remained intact.

"Seems better, I mean, she's talking to me; but not about the party. I take it a day at a time, you know?"

"Yeah... well if I can help, or if maybe a call from Tessa might make things smoother, let either of us know. We love you guys and don't want to damage our relationship."

"Thanks, Danny. I'll be sure to pass it on to Margie."

Two days later, Margie was at the tennis club, working on her serve when she was approached by Carol Lambert. Carol asked if she wanted to play a set, just for practice, nothing serious, and Margie agreed.

After the match, Carol suggested they go out to dinner that night. "Milford has a member ship at the Trinity Manor. We just joined; tonight will be our first time dining there. We'd love it if you and Vince could join us; our treat, of course."

"I... I don't know," Margie said, thinking of how she had felt repelled by Carol's husband and his large hands and shaven head on meeting him at the party.

But Carol was determined to win her and Vince over and kept at Margie until she relented.
But I have to ask Vince if his calendar is clear. We'll need a sitter, and... well, you understand how these things work."

Carol suggested she call Vince then and there, and backed into a corner, Margie did. Vince was delighted that Margie was back socializing again, but confused as to whom she was asking him to go out with. "The Lambert's?" was all he said.

"Yes," Margie said, not wanting to say more than necessary. "Can you arrange with Mom to sit for Tabby? It might work better if you ask if Tabby can stay the night. That way if we get home late we won't be disturbing Mom or Tabby."

"Yeah, I can do that... But why...?"

Margie hung up before he could fully ask his question about the Lambert's that she knew was coming.

Carol made a quick call to her husband, nodded twice and hung up. "Dinner's booked for 7:30. Can you meet us at the Manor?"

"Of course, what are you wearing?"

"Most likely I'll wear a black cocktail dress. Most women wear black to the Manor. Men tend toward dark suits, or if they want to overdress, tuxedos."

The women left the tennis club shortly thereafter, and driving home Margie's doubts returned. What the hell am I doing? I left the party in a huff, obviously jealous of how they were going after Vince, and now here I am about to venture into the fucking lion's den with that uncouth bastard, Milford Lambert. Carol's nice... and Vince will love her and her tits, but that means I'm stuck with Lambert and his giant-sized hands.

Suddenly Margie was laughing and had to fight for control, fearing she'd do something stupid and cause an accident. Did I say his giant-sized hands; as in big hands, big dick? Oh, my God, I'm fucking hopeless. And she was laughing again, wondering what his cock looked like. And that's all she could think off the rest of the way home... a hard... long... thick... dark cock.

Her pussy was throbbing as she pulled into the garage and she hiked up her skirt and masturbated after turning the ignition off and lowering the garage door.


Margie found that Vince had driven their daughter over to her mother's when she entered the house. She was coming out of the shower when Vince returned.

"Mind my asking, what the fuck's going on? You hung up on me when I asked about the Lambert's. I mean, the Lambert's?"

"Take it easy, Vince," she said, "Carol's a decent enough person."

"But it's HIS club we're going to. And it's HIS money paying for it. And it's MY wife he wants to fuck!"

"Vince! Don't even suggest it! We don't know that... it's just an invitation to dinner."

But Margie certainly knew there was more to it than dinner. And when Vince calmed down a moment later, Margie grew confused again, recalling Tessa's conversation about envy and jealousy.

While Vince showered and shaved, Margie selected a black matching bra-and-panty set, applied a light dusting of make-up and a layer of red nail varnish. Once the nail varnish had dried, she rolled very sheer black thigh-highs up her legs.
Margie admired herself in the mirror and felt a slight thrill at the contrast of the exposed skin of her thighs between the thigh-highs and her black thong. She smiled into the mirror and felt she looked very sexy. Applying a last touch of lipstick, it occurred to her that Carol would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely too. Vince will probably be drooling over her tits in no time at all, she told herself, and smiled.

It was a completely different woman looking back at her from the other evening. Margie didn't give it a second thought.


As the Morgan's pulled alongside the Valet station at the Manor, Margie spotted Carol and Milford getting out of their car. Margie gave Carol an approving look; she wore a simple black dress with spaghetti straps over her shoulders. The dress barely contained her jiggling breasts as she leaned forward to get out of the convertible.

Both Vince and Margie were so distracted by Carol's cleavage that they didn't notice Milford approaching the car and opening her door for Margie. She glanced his way on hearing the sound of the door opening, saw him smiling, or better yet, leering at her.

"Hi Margie, I'm so pleased you could be with us this evening," he said unctuously, while his eyes stripped the black dress from her body. Margie swung her legs out, hoping he would avert his eyes as he offered his hand to help her out of the car. Milford being Milford, did no such thing, and was rewarded with a wonderful crotch shot of her thong clad pussy.

Thank god I didn't go Commando, she thought as she flushed with embarrassment.

"Thank god for chivalry," she said with a forced smile and released his hand and brushed a hand over her dress to straighten it.

Margie couldn't help but stare at his hands, God, they are huge she admitted, and then forced herself to examine the rest of him.

Lambert was dressed in a dark blue suit with just the narrowest lines running through it, almost indiscernible to the human eye. It must have set him back four or five thousand dollars, Margie thought as Lambert tendered his arm to her and walked her into the Manor.

Vince, of course made straight for Carol, complemented her on her dress, ogled her breasts just long enough to avoid being called on it, and escorted her into the restaurant behind his wife and Lambert.

Once inside the women exchanged hugs and air kisses, complemented each other on their outfits and were seated at a table set off by itself in a darkened corner.

Drinks were ordered and menus studied. A waiter took their orders and Lambert told a clean joke, surprising both Margie and Vince.

Vince expressed his appreciation of the Manor's elegance and Lambert was moved to give them both a short history of the place, which meant next to nothing to the Morgan's.

Margie wasn't sure when it happened, but as the second round of drinks arrived along with the starters, she suddenly realized that her husband's right hand was no longer on the table.

A moment later she could have sworn Carol moaned, but decided that she was imagining things.

"A penny for your thoughts," Milford said to Margie, bringing her back to the moment.

"Sorry, what was that?" she replied.

He laughed and leaned towards her. His breath was slightly sour and she briefly wondered what he'd had to eat before coming to the manor. She glanced at Carol whose chest was heaving slightly.
What the hell does Vince think he's doing? Her thoughts were interrupted as Lambert's hand moved across the space between them and covered hers.

Margie almost jerked her hand away, but managed to leave it in place. Lambert was saying something. Margie knew this with a certainly that couldn't be denied, and yet she couldn't hear anything. She saw both Carol and Vince nod and reply to whatever it was Milford was saying. But her entire being was fixated on the tiny circles he was drawing on the back of her hand; circles that alternated with strokes, so light was his touch she likened it to his breathing on her skin.

She felt herself growing wet. Her nipples hardened. He's only touching my hand!

But Margie knew it was the way he was touching her. It was exactly the same way she touched herself, but not the back of her hand.

She stared dumbly at his hand on hers, not seeing it, feeling it, feeling the rising pulse in her pussy; feeling the tingle in the tips of her nipples that coursed directly to her clit.

Finally she heard his voice.

"You seem distracted by something," he said, taking his hand off hers and picking up his drink.

"Yes... I... just daydreaming I guess," and to save herself further embarrassment she too picked up her drink and consumed more than half of it.

"It's good to daydream," Milford said and placed his overly large hand on her thigh. Margie immediately covered it with her own, pressing firmly to prevent any further progress. When she thought he'd gotten the message Margie eased the pressure and his hand stayed where it was. She was a little uncomfortable with his familiarity but decided not to make an issue of it.

Then there was the unmistakable sound of a moan from Carol. Margie connected it with the sound she'd heard earlier, and looked at Carol's face, found it flushed with excitement. She glanced at her husband; he was looking at Lambert with a sick smile on his face. Lambert had a lewd grin on his.

Margie, with some effort, lifted Lambert's hand from her thigh. After a brief pause, she said, "Carol I'm going to powder my nose. Would you like to join me?"

A moment later, Carol eased her chair back and stood up. Vince's hand reappeared and scratched his ear lobe.

As they entered the ladies room, Margie said, "What the fuck is going on, Carol?"

"I... I didn't expect it to start so soon."

"Start... what are you? Oh!" Suddenly everything made sense to Margie.

Carol lit a cigarette and began talking. Margie listened. "They say that college is the place you go to discover who you are. To experiment with life to see what you like, what you don't, your tastes, your desires, what you have a flair for or just an inclination for. Well, let me tell you it's mostly bullshit.

"I did plenty of experimenting. I expect you did some too, we all do. Drugs weren't my thing; pushed everything to the limits... I was young and I was stupid, and I experimented a lot. But I had to actually know from experience before I could actually say, "I don't like such and such" or "I really love it when this happens". But then again, that is how I discovered I truly loved sex. Not just sex; I liked it rough; I liked costumes and bondage. The kinkier things were the better. I liked the toys and boys and then the men. Oh, the men and their strength; with their morning woodies and their stubble, and big hands."

Carol looked directly at Margie and repeated the last again. "And their big, big hands, know what I mean, Margie?"

"Mmm, I think so," Margie replied quietly.

Carol smiled, "Sure you do. Ahhh, what can I say? I like it hard and rough. Oral, anal, anything you know? Nipple clamps, needles I have rings in my labia and my clitoris. Nothing facial... he didn't want that. By him, I mean Milford. But I covered a lot of ground before we met. I really did. I didn't keep count, but I must have fucked a couple hundred guys by the time I graduated. I was the campus cunt, or one of them. There were certainly others like myself out there.

"At that point in my life, it was all about sexual discovery. I wanted sex. I wanted to discover the fun of sex. I wanted to fight then have make-up sex. I wanted to be tied up and be used. I wanted to get on my knees and have his hands in my hair pulling me harder onto his cock. I wanted him to come upon me in the kitchen, just growl in my ear and tear my pants from me; push me over the table and take me. AND this was just some of what I wanted him to do to me. And then? And then what I wanted to do to the man occupying my bed was a whole different story. But very rarely did I have a guy occupy my bed who gave me what I wanted.

"Oh, but you want to know what the fuck was going on with your hubby and me back there, don't you?"

"I think I have an idea," Margie said effortlessly.

"Do you?"

"Yes, I do. Ever since he saw you at the party he's wanted you. But you left," Margie said, instantly regretting it.

"We were requested to leave. Niles felt Milford was making a bad impression on you and what's her name?"

"Tessa," Margie said numbly.

"Yeah, Tessa. He wanted her too. He wants every woman he sees. He told me what to do and I did it. When we sat down I placed my hand on Vince's lap, found his cock and rubbed it. It wasn't long before he had his hand under the table caressing my thigh."

Margie thought she saw a sparkle in Carol's eye as she described in minute detail what had gone on between her and Vince at the table.

"You must have heard my moan when his finger reached my cunt," she paused to look at Margie before continuing. "You don't mind my using that term do you? I mean, I prefer it to pussy, snatch, or twat."

Margie shrugged her shoulders, not really caring.
Carol went on, "Cunt has a sort of distinctive primitivism about it. It reeks of sex; the others don't for one reason or another."

"Is this an essay, Carol? I mean quit talking about your... cunt, or whatever you want to call it. Get to the point!"

"We want to swap with you two," Carol said abruptly.

"We know that," Margie replied. "The thing is... your husband...."

"Is repulsive, or worse, right?"

"Absolutely. Why on earth would I be interested in having sex with him? I can understand my husband's wanting to fuck you, you're beautiful and highly desirable, but to let your man pimp you off in order to have me, well I find it both offensive as well as abhorrent."

"Not if you think of sex the way I believe you do," Carol said slowly, drawing out each word.

"WHAT!" Margie gasped.

"Oh, yes, without a doubt," Carol said with a hint of a smile.

"You've some nerve to say that!" Margie croaked, as her face turned red.

"Milford can take you to sexual places you've never been to before," Carol said calmly. Your husband lacks the imagination he has. I know he's nothing to look at, but think back to all those fairy tales you heard when you were little. Rumplestiltskin, Beauty and the Beast, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, the Trolls... shall I go on?"

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byParis Waterman© 6 comments/ 17141 views/ 1 favorites

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