tagLoving WivesDouble Standards

Double Standards

byukresearcher©

My wife did not beat about the bush. "I think I am on the verge of starting an affair," she said as we were getting ready to go to bed.

Time stood still and I felt a deathly chill inside me. There was several seconds of silence as I scanned my memory banks for any male acquaintance who might be the villain but then the word 'starting' emerged from the turmoil of my mind to give me a glimmer of hope. "So you are not actually having sex with someone else already?"

"Not really - but I might if I see them again."

"How do you mean 'not really' - what exactly have you done?"

"There was kissing and a bit of touching."

"What kind of touching?"

"Only my breasts and it was outside my clothes."

"Did you touch him?"

"It was a her, not a him - but yes, I touched her the same way that she touched me."

I could have wept for joy. There was an urge to sing and I almost ran round the room tearing off my shirt in a footballer type show of elation. Zoë was a bit put out by reaction, "Why are you sitting grinning inanely at me for - what I've just told you is serious."

It was impossible to stop laughing. "I thought it was a man. Oh God, I thought you meant a man. I was all set to kill the bastard - or kill myself. And after all that, you tell me that's all it is - you fancy mucking about a bit with another woman."

"Tony, Man or woman it will still be infidelity - I will still be having a physical relationship with a person other than you."

There was a stern edge to my wife's voice that sobered me slightly, but I was so overcome with relief that my answer was still flippant. "Come on though, it's hardly the same thing is it? I mean, no guy is going to be sticking his slimy dick up you and you won't be arriving home overflowing with his cum." "Expecting me to lick it out of you," I added crudely, having probably read too many Internet stories."

"Don't be disgusting - if you can't talk about this on an adult level then I am just going to go ahead without any further discussion."

"Sorry darling. I'm just happy that there is no danger of you leaving me. I can personally guarantee that you are not a lesbian so that is why I am not really worried. You are just a bit curious - anyway, from my point of view is seems quite natural that women should fancy each other; I'm just surprised that there is not a whole lot more of it going on. So you can have a bit of fun with my blessing - who is the lucky lady by the way?"

"It's Eleanor."

I nodded wisely. It just had to be - Eleanor was the wife of my best friend Jerry and she was very fanciable indeed. Two years ago when I was three years into an idyllic if slightly introverted marriage to Zoë, I bumped into Jerry on the south coast, Poole in Dorset to be precise. I was there on interview for a far better job (I didn't get it) and in the hotel bar that night, a voice said, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

The guy facing me was a couple of inches taller than I and broadly built - he also had a good looking confident face. Had he not spoken my glance would have passed over him without a pause but now looking more keenly, he did seem vaguely familiar. When we compared personal details it came as no surprise to find that we both hailed from the same northern city but apart from that there seemed no reason why we should have come into contact previously. He told me his name and said that he worked on industrial applications for an international paint company, travelling the country and indeed the world as part of his job - which was why he was residing in that hotel on that particular night. My insurance office job moved me in different circles so the answer did not lie there and even working back through pastimes and hobbies until we reached school days revealed no potential point of contact. By this time we were sitting at a table and had bought each other drinks. Reduced to general chatting we both confessed to having 'lovely wives' and neither had ventured into fatherhood although he and his wife had been married two years longer than Zoë and I.

It was at this point that Jerry produced a wallet and flicked it open to reveal a head and shoulders portrait of his wife Eleanor. Instantly I was back standing in a queue at a supermarket checkout and avidly watching a woman at the next checkout whilst hoping Zoë would not notice the focus of my gaze. It was a very hot day and this very attractive woman, wearing a generously low cut top, kept bending over her trolley to transfer items to the moving belt. I was sweating profusely (nothing to do with the humidity) and my seriously stiff penis offered great opportunity for embarrassment when I tried to move. From then on every week I kept a special look out for this very desirable woman but although I spotted her most weeks she seemed to have switched to always wearing sweaters. This was possibly better news because I was unlikely to find myself in such fortuitous juxtaposition at the checkout again and the sweaters did afford a very arousing view of those glorious tits. Sometimes, when she had just come into the store or if we passed near the cold display, the disturbance to the smooth curve of her breasts showed that she had to have nipples like cherries. Forcing these memories back into their box, I asked my new friend, "When and where do you do your shopping?"

For a moment he was startled by the change of subject and then said with a laugh, "Asda, every Saturday morning, the same place and time as everybody in the world - or that's what it feels like when I'm in there."

"That solves it," I told him. "Zoë and I shop there then too and I can remember seeing your wife in there - fairly tall (I almost said 'with beautiful breasts' but switched in time to 'I think she wears sweaters a lot'). Am I right?"

"That must be it," he agreed, pleased that we had solved the mystery, "Do you happen to have a picture of your wife on you?"

I produced my own wallet, pleased to have the chance to proudly display my own lovely Zoë. This too was a head and shoulders but after only a glance, Jerry said enthusiastically, "Oh yes, doesn't she always wear high heels and very tight trousers?" There was an awkward pause for a moment and then we exchanged complicit smiles at the fact that, although we could barely remember each other we both were able to instantly recall the physical attributes of the others spouse with almost photographic clarity. "We are both very lucky men," he concluded and I was happy to concur.

In some strange way a bond seemed to have formed between us. After a couple more pints, Jerry looked at his watch and said, "The evening is still young, what say you to finding ourselves a couple of willing wenches to keep us warm through the witching hour?"

"I thought you said that you were happily married," I shot back - I was almost prudishly shocked. "Maybe you didn't actually say that you were happily married but you definitely inferred it. Or did I just assume?"

"I am very happily married so you are not wrong - just coming up to seven years of marital bliss in fact. That does not mean that a bit of relaxation goes amiss when I get the chance. It's probably not the same for you but I spend an average of three nights away from home in some anonymous hotel. If I hadn't found a pleasant way to pass the time, I would have gone crazy long ago."

Even if I lived his life I doubt if I could behave like that because I loved Zoë far too much - my conscience would be too much to bear. It is too late to claim that I never looked at another woman because the anecdote related above would prove me wrong, I certainly looked (and often) but doing was a completely different matter. Why should I when for me Zoë was the most wonderful woman in the world? Petite with short black curly hair, she always wore high heels to compensate for lack of stature but these also served to enhance her most striking feature. I am a connoisseur of women viewed when walking away and I can say that my wife has the most perfect arse that I have ever seen. Her breasts could be larger but Zoë cleverly distracts from this deficiency by wearing tight trousers to enhance her prime asset. I am well aware that she receives more than her fair share of lascivious glances from passing males and most of the time this fills me more with pride than jealousy. I politely declined the invitation but stressed that I didn't want to spoil his fun. Jerry grinned and confessed that he might just manage to do without sex for one night, going on to suggest that we got ourselves blathered instead - and that is what we did.

Zoë and I bumped into the other couple at the supermarket a couple of weeks later - ironically standing in adjacent checkout queues. (Unfortunately Eleanor was wearing a sweater). Jerry greeted me like a long lost friend and suggested that we all four meet up in the café for a coffee. The two wives hit off straight away, forming a sisterhood and automatically combining to treat Jerry and me as errant small boys. From then on we became firm friends, eating out together, going to the theatre and socialising at each other homes, on an alternating weekly basis (whenever Jerry was available). They had a very nice house with a pool in the large garden but, as we only visited in the evening, we never got a chance to use it.

During these evenings Eleanor frequently wore low cut gowns so I have had plenty of opportunity to feast my eyes during the two years we have been friends. Jerry in his turn continued to fancy my wife - once I saw him standing slightly behind Zoë flexing his hand in frustration as he fought the desire to grasp her buttock. Over this time the two women seemed to grow closer together having found a natural rapport while Jerry and I maintained only a surface camaraderie, being basically two completely different types of men

So of all the many women that Zoë might have chosen to consider having a lesbian affair with, Eleanor was the obvious candidate. "Tell me about it," I urged, smiling encouragingly.

"I think it really started when we all went to the Turkish bath last week. It was not very busy so Eleanor and myself were the only two in our part of the women's section. After a while I became aware that she was staring at my tits too much. I had looked at her, not just her breasts but all over but I did try to make it casual. She is probably not a natural blonde because her bush is nearly as dark as mine and it is not really a bush because she has trimmed it to a narrow strip. I think that is to do with her bikini line because they do holiday abroad a lot and of course they have that pool. I suppose that I did look at her breasts a lot because they really are lovely and she's got these fabulously large nipples. The point is that she caught me looking. I got terribly embarrassed and looked away but nothing was said."

Zoë blushed at the memory and asked me to get her a drink before continuing. "This afternoon I drove round to see her as I usually do since it turned out that she and I have the same half day from work.

We chatted just as normal but it was different, kind of strained. Then suddenly, Eleanor sat forward and told me very seriously that she had been very happily married for seven years, that Jerry was very good in bed and that he had a very nice sized fat cock. I didn't understand why she had told me that but I came right back and pointed to her that we had been extremely happily married for five years and that you were a fabulous lover - I didn't mention that we both wished you had that bit extra down there."

That last was said with a small smile and reflected a familiar topic. During the first year after the wedding (or possibly while we were shacked up for those few months beforehand), Zoë was standing naked admiring herself in the mirror when she said, 'I could be very happy with my figure if I only had a couple more inches on my bust.' 'I would be happy with just an inch - as long as it was on the length of my prick,' I told her. 'So would I,' she came back like a shot, we both start laughing and since then it has been a kind of running joke throughout the marriage. [After that first humorous slur on my manhood Zoë had tried to make amends by saying, "You are a bit thicker than average and a shorter thicker penis is always better than a longer thinner one." I seldom brought this opinion back to mind because of the inevitable implication that she was a connoisseur on the subject]

My wife took a gulp from her glass. "Eleanor suddenly stood up. I don't know why but I did too and next thing she has grabbed my arms and is pulling me against her. We must have embraced dozens of time before without noticing the body contact but this time I was very aware of how our breasts were pressing together; in fact I was conscious of her whole body. Then she kissed me. We have often kissed on the mouth before but not with lips parted and she has certainly never pushed her tongue in my mouth. It was as if I had been connected to the electricity supply because I felt sparks and tingles going off all over my body. I started kissing her back and we must have snogged for a solid ten minutes without coming up once for air. During that time she stroked my tits and I squeezed hers but it was when I felt her unhooking my bra that I suddenly saw sense and broke away. Eleanor thought she had got me, so she was a bit put out and asked why I didn't want her to make love to me anymore. I told her that I did want her to, I wanted it desperately, (I was so wet), but I said that her being a woman didn't make any difference because it was still infidelity and I had promised never to cheat on you. She asked if that was it but I said 'not necessarily' but I told her that I would not do anything else with her until I had spoken to you."

"What did you think I would say?"

"I honestly didn't know but I hoped you would let me at least try. I nearly came home at that point but El persuaded me to stay and talk. She promised not to come anywhere near me and I'm glad because I'm not sure what would have happened if she had. Eleanor told me that she had been gay from when she was fifteen and started with a girl at school. Since then she had three long affairs with other females and lots of short encounters but did not go with a man until she was nineteen - her hymen had been broken by another girls finger long before but she was still technically a virgin that first time. Anyway, having discovered 'penis power' as Eleanor puts it, she decided that she was not going to be exclusively gay any more."

"Did she tell you anything about her long affairs," I asked, my imagination working overtime."

"A bit. Two were with older women. One was the mother of a straight school-friend - she used to sleep at the friend's house a lot when the father was working away and creep to the mother's bed in the middle of the night."

"Does Jerry know that she was once gay?"

"She still is or at least bisexual and she's been with several women since she got married. Jerry knows everything and he doesn't mind a bit - he's a bit like you, the idea excites him more than anything. Apart from anything else he's pleased that she doesn't need to be lonely while he is away from home and of course it means that he has no worries about other men."

"So when do you want to start," I asked, bubbling with pleasurable anticipation.

"Jerry is away in Malaysia Wednesday and Thursday next week. I thought I might go round Wednesday evening - I have to work my half day next week so it will make up for not seeing her then.

"You really are a lovely man – I'll ring Eleanor now and give her the good news."

Nothing much more was said but in bed that night we enjoyed a prolonged and exuberant sex session.

As we lay embracing waiting for sleep in that delicious post-coital state, Zoë said thoughtfully, "Now that it is really going to happen, I'm a bit worried about whether I am going to enjoy it." I didn't reply and after a long pause she asked, "Aren't you at all worried that I might turn into a fully fledged dyke?"

"Darling, knowing how much you like cock, I don't think there is much chance of that," I told her, adding, (rather wittily I thought), "Even if you do pick up a passion for pie, I doubt if you will drop sausage from your diet completely."

Enhanced sex followed every night up to and including the Tuesday preceding her date. That evening she had done a lot of heart searching, asking, "Am I doing the right thing?" or "Do you think it will change us?" and "You don't think it might get out of hand do you?" To all of these worries I furnished a laughing reassurance. On the night, after she had spent ages choosing what to wear for her special evening, I kissed her at the door as she left, with the instruction that she was to let herself have a really good time. At the last moment my wife hesitated and asked, "Are you sure that you don't mind Tony - there is still time to change your mind you know."

Easing her out of the door, I said, "No change of mind but I have got a couple of conditions - you must tell me everything that happens when you get home - and I would rather like to watch the pair of you at it some time."

"I will certainly tell you everything that you want to know but I can't promise on the other thing. I would certainly feel a bit shy having you watching and I've no idea what Eleanor will say but I will mention it to her."

Like Cinderella she was home just after midnight and moving in a kind of glow. "It was wonderful," she offered before I had the chance to ask but then said nothing more. As she sipped the cocoa that I had made for her I waited expectantly for the de-briefing but Zoë remained silent and when I prompted with 'Well?' she said, "Wait until we are in bed sweetheart - I would rather tell you about it with the light out."

In bed we lay side by side in the darkness. I was already very aroused and the tent-pole effect made it difficult to lie on my back but I was hesitant about turning towards my wife lest unwanted prods from my over eager organ should distract her from the story. "We started by just sitting and kissing on the couch. It is a lot different from kissing a man - Eleanor's tongue felt a lot softer and somehow quicker, it flicked about a lot sending shivers all over me. We felt each other up a bit but were both still fully dressed when she took me upstairs. She and Jerry have a fabulous bedroom and I doubt if there is another one like it even in Hollywood. The bed is king size and circular but it is not like a proper bed at all - it can be normal bed height or it can be made to sink until at the bottom of a three foot circular pit. Being really perverse, I reckon almost twenty people could sit round the lip watching someone perform in the centre. Oh yes, the bed also revolves. There is no furniture at all and the walls are all full length mirrors. The really kinky thing is that they aren't really mirrors at all, they are screens that can show images of what is happening on the bed sent by hidden cameras, so that it gives an effect of surround-sex. You have no idea how sexy it is lying on a revolving bed and seeing big pictures of what you are doing all round you."

I think that Zoë paused for possible questions but my mind was lost in the bedroom just described, watching my wife and her lush friend engaged in erotic embrace.

"We continued kissing standing by the bed and El started to undress me. As soon as I was naked, she started sucking on one of my tits so I tried to undress her in return but there was nothing to do because her clothes just fell off and she wasn't wearing panties at all. When she was removing mine it was one of the best bits. As she pushed them over my hips, she crouched trailing the tip of her tongue down my stomach - I thought she was going down on me then but she was saving that for later after the right build up. We stood facing. I still had my heels on, that was all but it meant that we were roughly the same height. Following her lead, we just let our tits lightly brush against and every time our nipples touched it felt as if a hot spark flew off and went straight between my legs. I was on fire by this time and if she had not pressed me onto the bed I think my legs might have collapsed. Eleanor leaned over dangling her wonderful breasts over my face - they are so big and firm and when I got a nipple into my mouth it was sheer heaven - honestly, if there had been any milk in there I could have kept on sucking forever. I think we kissed some more at this point - there was kissing after every different thing. Then she signalled with her hands that I was to lie still and started kissing and licking her way down my body. I knew straight away that it was building up to something special from the way she kept teasing me, advancing until I got so excited and then retreating again. By the time that her mouth was near my pussy, I had forced my legs so far apart that it hurt. Tony you are very good with your tongue on my love hole, in fact you are the best ever (not that very many boys went down on me before we met). What I am trying to say is, compared to Eleanor you know nothing. Sometimes you are so close to the right spot but when I mention it, you always seem to move to the right distance away but on the other side. Well El knew the exact spot every time and how long to lick and just the right moment for a little bite. I don't know how but I think she made my clitoris grow to twice its normal size. It was so much better than I had imagined and I don't think I stopped cumming from the moment her tongue first touched my twat until she crawled back up the bed to let me lick my own cunt juice from her face."

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