Getting Wet: A Slut Wife Continued

Chapter Two

Early August

I chased Andy down the embankment to inquire what exactly he planned to do with that net. It turned out that he and Dan intended to seine the pond for catfish by wading waist high in the water, holding the net between them.

I was flabbergasted at the idea and told them both it was dangerous. I didn't like it. Dan assured me it was fine, and he would look out for Andy.

"I've got him, Meg." Dan flashed me his confident smile and stepped into the water shirtless, wearing only his sweat shorts and sneakers. His bulging pecs and his ripped washboard abs dismantled my attention to safety. For several enduring seconds, the only thing I noticed was the prominent bulge at Dan's crotch as the murky waves of liquid saturated the clinging cotton. The vague impression of fullness became wickedly distinct and summer heat ached in my loins.

"See Meg, this is nothing. The water is shallow." My husband was in the middle of demonstrating just how 'safe' wading in the pond could be when he sank like a stone right out of sight. I screamed. Dan dove headfirst in Andy's direction, pulling him to the surface in a gasping, coughing commotion.

Dan is a big guy, a 6'3" mountain of magnificent muscle. Andy is much smaller, about 5'8" - thin but athletically framed with a sort of meek temperament, unless he gets really pissed. Dan was strong enough to haul Andy straight up the embankment while still hanging on to the net. He hauled in my husband and about 6 catfish at the same time.

None of this quelled my agitation one bit. I was trembling when I approached the two of them, insisting they abandon this entire ridiculous charade. After much debate, I finally made the concession to allow a few more passes with the net if Andy stayed on the bank and Dan put on a life jacket. By the end of the afternoon, they had captured nearly a hundred catfish and headed to the barn with their bounty, ready to start processing... cutting them into filets and so forth.

The barn has an industrial size stainless steel sink and workstation which Andy obtained from a local restaurant. There's an additional attachment for a garden hose with plenty of counter space, plus cabinets for storage. There's even an electric lift for hanging deer to be skinned during the winter hunting season, a washer and dryer for muddy clothes, steel racks for boots and loads of other equipment. It's quite a setup. My husband keeps it clean and operational.

Having begun cleaning their fish, I insisted the guys wash their clothes in the barn and walk over to the house for showers once they finished bagging filets. I would fetch some towels they could use to dry themselves and cover up on their abbreviated journey.

We live out in the country, so it's honestly no big deal to meander around naked on our property. Still, I knew that my Andy was bashful, particularly around other guys. He always told me how much he detested public showers, particularly in high school and college. I'm all about accommodating my husband's needs. I didn't want him to be embarrassed.

As luck would have it, Samantha was at her grandparents, so I was free to be helpful. I mixed batter for hushpuppies in the kitchen and prepared the deep fryer for cooking. Once everything was ready, I trotted back down to the barn with a load of beach towels.

As I opened the door I was met with the vision of Andy and Dan standing there naked as jaybirds, spraying themselves off with the garden hose! They had finished bagging the fish and had presumably dumped their clothes in the washer. I was paralyzed by the sight of them, never imagining I would ever see my husband and Dan side by side in the nude!

Admittedly, I was taken by how Dan dwarfed my hubby in every way. I glared at his manhood with amazement, not even pretending disinterest. Neither of them recognized my presence at first. It was Dan who initially noticed me over the roaring spray of water and the washing machine rumble. In that momentary second of awkward awakening, before Andy's awareness caught up, we shared a knowing glance... a sinister, salacious smile.

Then suddenly, I threw my towels on the hood of the pickup truck and squealed! "Can't you guys wait for me to bring the towels before you get into all this?"

They both guffawed boisterously as I continued my facade of embarrassment, slowly backing out of the building. "Bring those fish when you come to the house!" I yelled, heading up the incline of the drive without bothering to shut the door. Shit! Dan looked hotter than Magic Mike. He was put together! I thought he had been working out since his separation from Susan. After today, I was sure of it. Fuck!

"Calm yourself down," I told myself. "You can't be messing with that guy. He's your husband's best friend." But I HAD been messing with him. I had been messing with him ever since my wedding... one flirtatious moment after the other.

And then, there was that kiss in the foyer last February...

***

The two of them came cackling through the carport like a couple of teenagers, half covered, half dry, and half crazy. Sometimes I felt more like the mother of two boys than a junior in age to the both of them. I'd have sent them directly to their respective showers save for the fact that they both forgot to bring the fish.

"Hey, where are the fish?" I was literally screaming to be heard in the midst of their roughhousing in the kitchen.

"Shit, I forgot them!" Andy put his hand on his head and turned to go back, but Dan stopped him in his tracks.

"I got it," Dan announced. "Get yourself cleaned up. I'll bring them up to the freezer."

Andy skipped up the stairs as I searched for plastic grocery bags.

"Here," I said, handing Dan the bags. "Put them in these and we can load them in the garage freezer once you get back. Just leave me one or two packages to cook for supper."

"I've got this, Meg. You do what you were doing. I can put them in the freezer myself."

Dan closed the door behind him, towel around his waist, heading for the barn. I couldn't help but stare at his tight ass dancing beneath the snugly wrapped fabric, his broadly strapped shoulders, and those powerful arms.

Yep, he'd been working out, and it certainly showed. Not that he needed to put all that much effort into being attractive. I had to admit that I'd always had a thing for him, even if I was just whispering to myself. But this day had been especially revealing... all the heat and the water and the steamy August sweat.

I felt a trickle leak out my crease, and it wasn't perspiration. I couldn't help but slide my hand down there and steal a soft moment of silent release, circling my finger over my sensitive nub until the shock waves rose up like ripples across the surface of a lake. It took only a few seconds... fleeting moments by the window watching Dan disappear down the drive.

I pushed my digits deep inside my clasping canal and revisited that vision from the barn, Dan's alpha male genitals dangling triumphantly in the iridescent spray. I came again. Louder this time with my eyes tightly closed, propped against the wall in a series of convulsions. Dizzy. A salty condensation glistened on the brow of my upper lip as I cupped my wet pussy in my palm and sauntered across the kitchen to the corner half bath for a wipe. There are times when my gushing is most inconvenient.

I knew Dan would be back in a hurry. I didn't want him to catch me with my hand on my cookie or a saucer of spilled milk in my shorts. He would never overlook the wet spot, and I would never live it down. The guy was totally at ease speaking his mind and telling it like it is. By now, we were much too familiar with each other to be courteously modest or subtly indirect.

Dan hung around our house so much that the guest room and shower were practically his domain. I'd even bought him several pairs of sweatpants along with t-shirts to keep in one of the cabinets. No underwear, though. I liked knowing he was commando after showering, not that there could have been any real doubt with what he was carrying around.

Dan and my husband had a tendency to get filthy together during their outdoor adventures. Dirty and grimy. I liked taking what advantage I could. So, I indirectly dictated Dan's attire by making available exactly what I preferred. For the most part, he was compliant and wore what was provided with an eager smile. He had no complaints about hanging loose, and Andy didn't seem to mind. I occasionally caught my hubby gawking at his best friend's equipment when the timing and angle were inviting. I often wondered if Andy realized that I did the same thing.

***

Having settled the kitchen for cooking, I opened the fridge to fetch a bottle of beer, then bounded up the stairs to the bedroom. I could hear the shower running as I passed by the bed, opening the door to our master bathroom. "Here you go, babe!"

Andy's a big fan of Sam Adams Seasonal long necks. I'm not much of a beer drinker myself. I could barely see through the steam as I opened the glass door and handed over the bottle.

"Thanks!" He took a long swig, then placed the bottle in an alcove beside the shampoo. I watched as he lathered himself with bodywash.

"Need some help with that?" I was leaning against the tile in the doorway. The master shower is big and probably doesn't need a door as a splashguard, but I prefer one. Andy smiled at my interest as I looked him over.

"Here, turn around," I ordered, squeezing off a glob of soap from the dispenser and proceeding to scrub his back and shoulders. I slowly eased down to his butt, one of his most enticing features, massaging the slick bubbles into those fleshy cheeks and sliding a finger up the length of his crack.

He jumped unexpectedly with a funny squeal. "Hey! What are you doing back there?"

"We have to keep that clean too," I laughed. "Bend over and let me smack it for good measure!" Andy didn't comply, but I noticed as he turned that I had his attention - or, at least, he had come to attention.

"What's this?" I swirled my fingertips lightly up the front of his erection, watching it bob in the shower sprinkles. Andy didn't speak. He has a way of growing quiet when he's excited. I've become used to it, but I know he likes me to talk. He likes me to take the initiative. He likes me to say naughty things.

Collecting some soap from his chest, I smoothed it over his rod, gripping him gently and stroking him softly. I could feel him throbbing in my palm, his meager little member. I'm rather fond of it, though it's admittedly miles from porn star potential - not that I require that kind of size. But I do frequently wish he were a little more endowed on occasion.

"Yeah, that's it," I murmured. He likes me to tease. I reached with a second hand to fondle his balls. They were rolling and tightening in his sack, a hand full of delicate walnuts; soft and vulnerable and full.

"You want me to make you cum, don't you?" He didn't answer, but his head tilted back as he moaned in response, the sound that means 'yes'.

"Hand me that conditioner," I pointed. He awkwardly grasped the bottle and passed it over, after which I squirted it out like mayo down the length of his hotdog. I prefer the creamy white texture of conditioner for this type of play. It reminds me of what I'm working towards, that prize after all that pumping.

"Did you like what you saw in the barn?" He inquired. Andy's voice seemed to tremble with anticipation. He sounded nervous and unusually excited.

I staggered, stunned by his question or even his willingness to verbally communicate.

"Uh, yeah...but didn't you guys know I was coming with towels?" I slowed down my strokes to give pause for conversation. It seemed like the wrong moment to make Andy explode.

"We have towels in the barn, Meg." Andy spoke softly and sounded suspicious as if I had somehow planned to interrupt the two of them while they were washing off naked.

"But I..."

"Meg," he interrupted. He waited. I lifted my eyes. "Did you like what you saw?"

I smiled, unsure what to say, still stroking. "Well, of course. I mean, you were a little shriveled, but I always like what I see... just like now."

"No, Meg." Andy furrowed his brow, tilting his head as I stroked him harder. "Did you like seeing Dan?"

I stammered. I definitely liked seeing Dan. Truthfully, Dan was all that I saw. My focus fell directly upon him, that amazing physique and his dangling virility. But admitting that to Andy seemed out of the question.

"I think you liked it," he mumbled. Then it hit me. Andy was in one of his moods again. One of those moods where he wanted me to play naughty. Slutty. Irreverently and unquenchably horny... for somebody else.

It's hard for my husband, sometimes; hard for him to communicate what he wants. And he doesn't understand it, that occasional need to feel jealous. He doesn't understand why it makes him so excited to imagine me with another man. At first, I didn't understand it either. The whole thing was paradoxical. I'm supposed to belong to him. Andy should be all that I need. He just never was, even before I realized it.

We've touched on it briefly during superficial conversation. It all started with the baby; mad sex in our bedroom on the night he got me pregnant. He was angry. He was jealous. He was as hard as he gets.

We argued at dinner.

He saw me touch another man's chest in a restaurant... our cute little waiter, probably barely eighteen. Andy watched and listened to me flirting when he came to our table. I was flexing my sex appeal, strutting my stuff.

Of course, I was being vindictive. Of course, I was making a point. But I never dreamed Andy would respond as he did; that he would turn into a total animal! I never imagined he would fuck the ever-living shit out of me! I had no idea he could fuck like that. Neither did he.

Well, I was tighter back then before Samantha... but still -

My hubby wore me out as my punishment. He wore me out and filled me full of cum. We weren't ready to have a baby. He typically wore a condom during our episodes of vanilla and predictable sex. There was nothing vanilla about this, though. Nothing predictable. I had bruises on my arms the next morning, handprints on my ass... but I really didn't mind.

A few days later, my breasts became tender. It was only that one time without protection, but the test turned positive, and Samantha showed up the following December.

***

Andy sends me clues when he wants it - that jealousy role play game.

I try to be attentive. I watch for the signs, listening to his needy voice. Then, I act. I do what most women never do. I make my husband feel smaller, less meaningful. I talk about sex with other men... better men who are bigger and stronger, thicker and longer. I'm careful not to overwhelm him, which can be so easy to do. There's a fine line for Andy when it comes to jealousy. The prescription is very precise. Just the right dose at just the right time gives you heated and unrestrained passion. Too large a dose gets you anger and regret. You get a total meltdown or improbable implosion. Total devastation.

"Would you like that, baby, if I told you that I found Dan.... attractive?"

I didn't expect a verbal response. In a way, that would ruin the game. When we role-play this way, Andy shouldn't have to prompt me. I take over on my own... rub his cock and paint the picture, describing every engorging detail from the guy's pretty face to his incredible prick; how it felt, how it filled me, how many times he made me come. What my husband didn't know was this was all a confession. I needed to confess willingly what I saw and how I felt, confess everything I wanted and needed from Dan.

Had I been on the wrong track, Andy would have let me know. When he slowly closed his eyes, I knew I was right. I was on target.

I reached for more conditioner.

"Take off your shirt," he whispered. I was wearing a spaghetti strap tank top, white and tight; being proud of my results working out since the baby - weights and aerobics, running on the treadmill.

I sported cut off denim shorts, stringy and ragged with my ass cheeks slightly visible and the pockets poking out on my thighs. My breasts had shrunk back down to B cups, but otherwise, I was happy with my looks. Andy says he likes my little tits, though I catch him on porn sites staring at women with voluptuous breasts. My nipples are so small, he calls them mosquito bites.

"Take off your bra as well," he insisted.

"If I do," I responded, "it stays off for the rest of the night. Do you understand?"

"Even with Dan in the house?"

"Especially with Dan," I smirked. Andy's cock leapt briskly.

I turned my back for him to unhook me, which he did. Then I slipped off the flimsy fabric and dropped it in the sink along with my shirt.

"Now, where were we? Oh yes, Dan."

I squeezed off a load of conditioner in my hand. We both watched the creamy liquid cover my palm and my fingers.

"Did I like what I saw in the barn?"

I wrapped my hand around Andy's erection, the conditioner oozing out between my digits as I gripped him tightly.

"Dan is really big isn't he, baby? He's so tall and muscular. I bet his cock is huge when he's hard."

Andy sighed heavily, almost groaning. I felt his prick throbbing in my palm. I leaned over, allowing my tits to dangle loosely off my chest.

He watched them, bracing himself as I twisted my wrist, rotating my fist around the slight girth of his shaft. He wouldn't last long, but I could tell he wanted more.

I too wanted more. My confession was real. Every word was a fantasy, every thought a desire.

"I bet Dan would feel amazing inside my cunt, baby. He would stretch me so wide! He would fuck me so hard! He'd probably get me pregnant with his massive load."

My husband's breathing was becoming erratic. His muscles were tensing. I couldn't help but remember the two of them side by side in the barn, that comparison contrast of my husband and Dan. Andy's penis fit so neatly into my grasp. Dan's would be so different; so big, so heavy, so thick. I could almost feel the weight of it.

"I'm sure he'd make me come with his dick, Andy."

There it was. I shouldn't have said it. It was a point of contention, an unspoken taboo. We never talk about it. My husband has made me come only once with his cock. It's not that I can't climax from being fucked. It's just that he's not big enough. Somehow, he knows that and focuses on that issue every time that we screw. We just don't mention it, and I worried it had messed everything up.

Andy closed his eyes. There was a tremor, a grimace. I felt the pulsations in his shaft. I hadn't ruined him after all! His little volcano was erupting.

"Oh yeah, that's it, baby!" I jerked him harder, slapping his little balls with my fist as I pistoned up and down on his pole. The narrow threads of his own conditioner spurted out of his slit, spattering on the tile and falling like string across my forearm.

He was done in seconds. Then he rested against the wall where the rain could wash over him. His erection wilted like a flower, all tiny again. Meek and insignificant as it appeared in the barn.

***

Downstairs, the shower started up with a whoosh! In my mind, I watched Dan step inside the confines of the steam and the spray, his manhood draped low between his muscular thighs. He'd probably want a beer and a fresh towel. Ordinarily, he'd have that already. But I have been busy.

I leaned forward to give Andy a kiss. "You okay?" He nodded affirmatively.

"Could you do me a favor and shave off that scruff? I like to feel that baby face of yours." Andy nodded again. I couldn't tell if he was exhausted or injured.