Emma

My wife stopped and looked at me as if studying my reaction. My heart was pounding so hard if seemed my whole body was involved in the beat. I also think that my teeth were clenched. I knew what was coming and it tore me apart knowing she was about to describe doing to another man something that she had refused to do to me.

"I hadn't expected that - I thought it would just be a matter of opening my legs and switching off until it was over," Emma went on. "But I was committed so I reached into the fly and got his penis out. Even though it was nowhere near stiff, I could tell that it was a lot bigger than yours. It was also very different with the head all covered with extra skin -- until I watched your videos, I had not realised that there were two kinds of cock. Anyway, I took it into my mouth and started sucking hard but after a minute he stopped me and said 'You haven't done this very often.' I told him that it was my first time and that seemed to please him. He said to take it very easy and tickle it with my tongue rather than suck, at least to start with. After I bit I found that I was quite enjoying it. The taste of his prick was not unpleasant and it felt funny having something alive in my mouth. I enjoyed poking my tongue inside his foreskin and touching the head and felt a thrill at feeling it react to me doing that. Soon I just knew it was time to start sucking properly."

Emma stubbed out the butt in the ashtray but there was barely a pause in her narrative. "I started to wonder what to do when he started to cum. At first I planned just to pull my head away at the last moment but worried if doing that would cancel the deal. The next best thing was to let the cum go in my mouth and then spit it out quickly -- but there was nowhere obvious for me to spit. I was curious what it would be like to swallow it -- so that's what I decided to do. The whole thing was not as terrible as I had imagined, in fact I had begun to enjoy doing it. There was a feeling of power knowing that I could control him with my mouth. When he did start to cum, I tried really hard to make it good for him and he told me afterwards that I had. Afterwards I had spunk all round my mouth and hanging from my chin so he gave me a tissue. He told me that I had a real talent for giving head and after a bit of practice should be amongst the best."

The acrid taste of jealousy in my mouth made it difficult to speak but I managed to ask bitterly, "So he didn't prosecute and let you have the dress as reward for prostituting your mouth?"

My wife shook her head. "I had expected the dress as well but he said it was too much to give away just for a blow job. Then he asked how much I was allowed to spend. When I told him, he said I could have the dress for £200 if I agreed to go round to his flat on two successive Wednesday afternoons. I wanted the dress very badly so I did. That wasn't bad at £200 per screw -- well actually £200 per session because he had me a lot more than once on both occasions and I gave him really good value for money. I got a lot out it too because he taught me a hell of a lot. He really knew his stuff because I never dreamed that it was possible to be made to feel like that. I actually went back to see him for a third Wednesday but that was mainly to get extra lessons on giving head rather than more screwing." Emma paused for a moment, then said as if in summary, "Well - that is how it all started," lit herself another cigarette and waited for my reaction.

What were my reactions? Incredulity. Disbelief. How could my demure, even straight-laced wife of eight years suddenly behave like that? I do know that I felt completely numb. Since arriving home, all the certainties in my life had gone.

The painful inward analysis of my emotions was interrupted by the realisation that she was speaking again. "At that point I had no thoughts of doing anything else," she said. "I had earned myself a beautiful dress, had a lot of pleasure and learned a great deal about sex but believed that it was only a one off adventure. The charity ball was on the Saturday following that last Wednesday afternoon and it was from there that I developed a taste for having other men's dicks inside me - and in my mouth. It was the Victorian style dance cards that did it. No fewer than six of the men that I danced with asked me to meet them afterwards. I told them all that I would think about it but wrote down their telephone numbers next to their names on my card. I have been with five of them and I'm rather amazed at how different cocks can be. The biggest by far was ten inches long -- that is exactly twice as long as yours and it must have been umpteen times as thick. Imagine that. I know that after watching your dirty videos, I used to lie in bed imagining having some thing like that inside me. Now I don't have to imagine."

"So you've been going to bed with all five ever since? I wanted to keep my voice firm as I asked the question but it came out all dithery.

"No -- except for the big one who I went with twice, I only shagged the others once. You may not believe this but I love you as much as ever as a person but not in a sexual way. I think I resent the fact that, knowing you right from school, has deprived me of so much. I have convinced myself that if I never go with any man more than once (or occasionally twice), it doesn't really matter. It's not as if I was having an affair."

"So you don't want to let me screw you any more?" I asked, my voice pregnant with despondency.

Emma laughed happily. "I'm not that selfish. You can have me any time that you want as always. I quite enjoy you poking me sometimes. I just don't want you to think that because I suck other men's pricks and let them fuck me up the ass, that you can do the same. I just can't let you and I don't really know why."

"It's hard knowing other men have had you but it is worse knowing that they get more than me."

"They do not get more than you," Emma said firmly. She was looking straight into my eyes and I could tell that she was speaking with total sincerity. "What they get is different but it is not more. I love you but I don't love them. With other men, as soon as they have done their stuff, I can't wait to get rid of them but with you I am contented to snuggle close and go to sleep. I think that probably I love you too much to do dirty sex with you. The trouble is that I now need that kind of sex."

I was totally confused. It this point I did not know if my wife's attempted explanation gave reason for hope or even greater despair. "Have there been any men since those five?" I asked. I did not want to know the answer to this but I had to say something and any other words might have revealed my inner turmoil.

"A few."

Now I wanted to know details but could not ask. If she just told me things then I was the unwilling recipient of the knowledge but to enquire might be construed as just prurient interest.

"I did an afternoon stint on a building site," she said

"A building site - how?

"On my back.

"I don't understand."

"One lunchtime I was walking past a building site and two of the labourers started whistling and calling crude things after me from behind the wire fence. I went back and asked them if they had noticed that men with the loudest voices always turned out to have the smallest dicks. They said that they could prove different and I took up the challenge. I was taken to the communal hut. It was empty but at the back was another small room containing two iron frame single beds. We went in there and they locked the door. Those two kept fucking me in turn but then one needed to go for a slash and when he opened the door two other blokes just back from their lunch got in. The first pair were about shagged out so I took on the new ones. Those building site guys are surprisingly straight -- I would have been happy to take both at once but they insisted on queuing. A whole load of others turned up and were peering in at the window, whistling and cheering but by that time I had to go and pick up Jason from school. I promised to go back another day but I never did."

In a strange way Emma was right because the sheer numbers of men tended to blot out the pain of any single one. I wondered if she had just told me that she was having an affair with one man, would it hurt more or less than this. On balance, I decided that an affair was probably worse for then there would be the fear of losing her altogether. The impersonal way in which she was screwing these men made it seem as if it was almost nothing to do with me. "You said 'a few' other men -- that was a few all at once."

"There were only four others -- I think. I seem to have forgotten one completely. There was a man who sat next to me in the cinema that I sucked off and another who gave me the eye outside the supermarket and then took me back to his flat. Then there was the window cleaner -- I only did him because all bored wives are meant to hump the window cleaner. It was a mistake because he will expect the same every time he calls. That's it -- the full tally as well as I can remember."

"What do you want me to say."

"I don't want you to get all uptight about this. I want you say that you don't mind."

"But what about me? You know that I would like the kind of sex that you are getting and can't give me."

"Go to prostitutes. I know that I said we could not afford it but now we can. A lot of these men give me money and things and I could get more if I started asking. Anything I get I will give to you."

"Wouldn't it be better and cheaper if I just started going with other women?"

""NO," said Emma emphatically. "You won't get women anywhere near as easily as I can get men. I can see you finding one and that would turn into an affair. I know you. Very quickly I can see you believing that you love her and preferring a loyal woman to one who opens her legs for all and sundry. I don't want to lose you as a husband but more than that, I don't want a broken home for Jason."

"I can't say that I don't mind but I do not want us to split up, especially for Jason's sake. I think that I have to accept a new basis for our marriage. Do you think it will be like this for the rest of our lives?"

"I don't know," Emma told me honestly. "All I know it that at the moment, I have got a craving for other men. They are like a drug to me. That's why I want you to let me start going out at night. There are always men around during the day but you have to wait for them to turn up. In the evenings I can go where I am more or less certain to get picked up."

"Every night?"

"No silly -- that would be selfish. You need a night out and I already see my mother one night. I can cut my mother down to once a fortnight so one night a week should be enough -- probably twice on occasion if I ever draw a blank."

** *

Mark was beginning to show increased signs of agitation so I caused the lighting to become brighter and sat myself forward to bring his discourse to a natural end. I suspected that the effect of the additives to his drink was beginning to wear off, so this break was mainly to provide him with new refreshment. He seemed to have accepted his wife's multiple infidelities with remarkable equanimity but that rather indicated that the story already told was of small import compared with what was to come. If the untold part of the tale was as traumatic as I believed it would be then there was a danger that parcel of drugs with which I had fortified him, might prove insufficient to prevent his seizing up on me. Consequently I decided to fall back on hypnotherapy.

First I must point out that hypnotherapy is not hypnotism in that the subject remains fully conscious and aware but the mind does become in part dissociated from the body. It is only fair to point out that this technique has acquired a bad name through use for regression to past lives and so-called recovered memories of childhood abuse. This has become known as 'The False Memory Syndrome'. Many practitioners have found it easy to plant ideas into their patients mind using a combination of direct suggestion and leading questions. You will note that I studiously avoid such methods and use only obvious prompts and where possible remaining completely silent myself.

With Mark nicely conditioned and with the lights music and microphone all activated, I asked, "Did you avail yourself of a prostitute?"

"Yes -- Emma insisted that I went with one before she found a man but it was a bit of a disaster," he told me. "I had no idea how to get a prostitute apart from those I has seen walking the streets so very nervous I drove round the red light district. Eventually I saw a girl that I fancied but she wanted to do it the car. I did not want that so I kept on looking and got a girl, not as nice as the first one, but she had a room. Once there I found that I no longer fancied her but she knew how to make my dick stand up even when it didn't want to -- she also knew how to make me cum quickly. So I paid for less than I get off Emma and did not really enjoy it. Back home my wife asked how it had been and told her what I have just you. She said that I was silly to use a street girl and straight away found me a telephone number to ring and make an appointment for the next week."

Mark's mind was still active but he had stopped verbalising his thoughts so I had to prompt, "Was this one better?"

"Oh yes, I went to her on three successive weeks. She was young and very attractive. Every time she started by giving me a massage and then I could do to her whatever I wanted. Over the three weeks I did everything that I had seen in the videos. She sucked me off, I licked her all over and then sucked her cunt, I stuck my cock up her arse and she fucked me when I was lying on my back. Every time it wasn't just a quickie either because I was with her all evening. The trouble was that when I had done everything once I lost interest because it was Emma that I really wanted to do it with."

"What about the next one?"

"There were no more," Mark told me. "I told Emma that I would far rather spend the money on pornography than on whores. My decision surprised her but she agreed that I could start keeping it in the house again. The shop I went to started me letting have stuff from under the counter. It was expensive but every bit as good as anything from Holland."

"How did you feel waiting at home when you knew that your wife had gone out picking up men?"

"The first time was terrible. I could not sit still and wandered round the house with pictures in my mind of what someone was doing to her somewhere. Emma arrived home much sooner than I expected. She said that she had gone into a big hotel bar and been picked up within ten minutes. It was a middle aged businessman and he took her to his room. It seems that he screwed her twice but in a very conventional way. Then he just fell asleep. I was very relieved but also.....disappointed is not the right word -- I was a bit sick that I had spent the night working myself into a mental frenzy over nothing."

"Do you think that your wife told you the complete truth?"

"Oh yes. That first time, Emma said that it was up to me; she could either tell me nothing and pretend that she had been to the cinema or she would tell me everything that had happened. I needed to know everything. On subsequent weeks she told me every detail of what she had done, both the good and the bad. I think that she enjoyed confessing but it was not done to hurt me - as I said, it was my choice."

Perhaps you would like to talk me through what your life was like," I urged.

"The second time Emma went out to 'get decently laid' as she put it, I realised that I could not just sit and think about it so I went into the garden, dug up the videos and watched them. It was much better because I no longer had to imagine, I could just pretend that she was the girl on the screen. This time she had picked up a young bloke, I forget where but they had done about everything -- it was well after two in the morning when she got back. She seemed to prefer young guys with a tendency towards the rougher sort. Emma's big thing was cocks. She loved to compare all the various types and sizes that she had had, the amount of cum that they could squirt and the different tastes. Her particular favourite was pricks with long foreskins, she told me of all the tricks with her mouth that she used to get them up again when they had already fucked her two or three times."

"I expect that all the different men that your wife has told you about seem to merge into one after a time."

"They do now," he said. "For a long time, I kept a mental index of names, what they had done and the size of their dicks. Then one time she told me some detail about the latest guy and I suggested that Brian six weeks before had been the same. Emma disputed this saying I was thinking of Steve the week after, the one with the nine incher who had hurt her anus by ramming it in too hard and too quickly. The thing was that I think she was correct and it destroyed all my faith in the system, so I haven't bothered keeping track since."

"So none stand out at all?" I was digging a bit. It seemed to me that there was still some knowledge that he was hoarding to himself and yet I feared that he was nearing the end of his story.

"The time that she had two blokes at once stands out. It stands out for Emma too because she keeps referring to it as the best sex of her life. She told me that she believes women were designed to service two men at the same time. I think that if those two had not just been passing through, she would have broken her rule and taken them on a lot more often than that one night. It was after six in the morning before she got home and she was completely exhausted. I let her stay in bed all day to recover, taking the day off work and looking after Jason myself. It seemed that both of them were at her none stop for hours, one screwing and the other in her mouth. Emma sys that they must have been on Viagra or something because they could both keep cumming, time after time. At one point she had one up her cunt and the other in her ass but she said that after managing to get into that position it was too awkward to do any real fucking."

"I hope that you will not mind me saying this but you do not seem to be too upset by all this, you appear to accept it - even enjoy it."

"I have got very little choice," he said. "I would give anything to go back to how we were, just a normal family with Emma as a modest faithful wife. But that is not going to happen because she likes what she is doing too much. If I fought against it mentally week after week then I would probably want to kill myself so I am making the best of it. It still hurts terribly but it excites me too. I dread the nights that she is going out but I look forward to them as well -- I think that the excited feeling is probably addictive. Anyway, things have changed now, partly for the better and partly a lot lot worse."

Now we were getting to the crux of the matter. I offered Mark a short break but he said that he wanted to carry on. The following section is again a direct transcript from the tape.

***

One night I was half way through the video when I heard the front door being opened. Usually I did not start watching until I thought that Emma was doing whatever she was doing but the man at the shop said this one was a bit special so I had started viewing early. When I heard the door, I quickly stopped the tape and switched over to television. My wife came in and she had got a bloke with her. He was one of those big labouring types that I know she prefers. She left him standing by the door, sat down by me, grabbed my hand and gave me a big kiss.

"I know that I am breaking the rules bringing him back here but I don't know what else to do," she said. "All the hotels are full due to the music festival, it is pouring down and there is nowhere at all that we can go. Please let me take him in the spare bedroom. I want him so badly. Please say yes."