Her Hobby is New Men

When she said she needed a new hobby, I thought she meant she wanted to collect stamps or take up knitting, but when I learned what she wanted to collect were people, male people, sex partners who she could bed without shame or restrictions in as many motels or clandestine places as possible. She wanted to do it even as a married housewife previously committed and faithful in all regards to her husband, me, and she wanted to do it with my blessing and without any interference from me.

"You come to this decision recently?" I asked, stunned to hear her proposal, incredulous that she would simply announce it one night after the dishes were washed and put away.

"No," she said with a relaxed expression, as if she had just proclaimed she was going to wash the windows. "I have been thinking about it for quite some time now," she said casually. "I have decided I am not a one-man woman," she said assertively. "You see, I now understand I need more sex than one person can provide," she added.

"So you want out of the marriage?" I asked, amazed by the sudden change in the woman I knew as my wife.

"Oh no," she said. "I like being married, having a husband to share my life with, to live with and raise a family with, eventually. I just want the freedom to do as I want regarding sex. I want to fuck as I please, so do you think you can handle that? Do you think you can be the husband of an emancipated woman?"

She waited for me to comment, but I couldn't find words. I was dazed by her question. I ran the issue through my mind, processing the idea, wondering if I actually could do as she proposed. Could I wait at home while my wife traveled about fucking her way through the male population of the state? Could I give her the freedom to be sexual with whomever she pleased?

I decided to go to the only friend I had who I thought could be unbiased and who could at least give an enlightened answer regarding the matter. He was a professor of physics at Cal Berkeley and I trusted his judgement on most matters.

I gave him the unoriginal old "a friend of mine" story, saying I know this guy whose wife wants to have sexual freedom to have sex with other men. "How does this 'friend' feel about her fucking other men?" he asked using a term I had never heard from him.

"Well, he's confused," I said. "I don't think he knows what to think." Mike was a widower, he had lost his wife a few years before and I had met her a number of times. She had been a college teacher and I knew they had met in college.

"You tell your friend it is an individual decision, but let him know there are many societies around the world where men routinely share their wives with other men," he said. "Do you remember Julia?" he asked, looking up from his coffee cup. I said I remembered her and she was lovely. I remembered her as an attractive woman I was impressed with, who seemed to be a person in control of her life, a person who didn't suffer fools.

"We had an understanding," he said without preamble. "She liked people, was interested in knowing others, was genuinely curious about them, their interests, their lives, their achievements. She was popular with everyone, and I realized early on I had to be able to share her with others. You understand what I am saying?" he asked me.

I wasn't sure, but I nodded. "You see, sex became unimportant to us. Not that we didn't like it, but it wasn't the most important thing about our lives, for our love for one another. You tell your friend that if he loves her, really loves her unconditionally, then he can give her the freedom she needs. If he is possessive and feels he owns her, then he won't be able to, no matter how hard he tries. Tell him, it can be liberating, or it can be unbearable." He looked at me as if he knew I had no such friend.

"You have to really love her enough to let go of her, to not hold her so tight that you crush her in your grip," he said. "Tell your friend he has to be careful that he is not kidding himself, that he truly can handle what she wants, but if you can it may be a truly rewarding marital experience. If you love her you can let her be the person she needs to be."

I listened and nodded. It was clear he knew I was talking about myself, and his smile told me he understood the dilemma I was going through. He most likely had felt the same quandary, the same uncertainty. I felt he probably had experienced the same thing I was. What I knew of his wife it surprised me that she would want to have sex with other guys, but then I was surprised that Claire had decided she needed to be sexual with other men.

Mike watched me as I processed what he had told me, and he waited for me to react, to comment. Finally, I thanked him and said I would think about what he'd said. Then, realizing how it sounded, I said I would tell my friend. He smiled and nodded.

On the way home I thought about what he had said, thinking about the arrangement Mike and his wife had had. I pictured Claire with other men, imaging her doing the things she wanted to do. I asked myself whether I loved her enough to "let her go" as Mike had suggested.

I came up with a plan as I drove home. I would tell her what he had told me, suggest that we try it. Tell her I loved her enough to not restrict her to a monogamous relationship if that is not what she wanted. I wasn't sure it was true, although I knew it had to be for it to work.

She suggested we go to a nightclub and I see her flirt and interact with other men. See how I reacted, see how hard or easy it was for me to see her with other guys, to watch her do what she wanted to do. As we drove to the dancehall on our first night I was nervous and afraid of what might happen, but at the same time I was surprised that I found myself excited and turned on by the possibilities. As I imagined her with other men I found myself surprisingly aroused by the thought and exhilarated by the images in my head of seeing her in action, of watching her being wooed by hungry men on the hunt, seeing the fondle her and move their hands around her body.

As I watched her at the bar, I eyed the men there and guessed which ones I would make a move on her and who wouldn't. I found I was right about half of the time. A few men asked her to dance and she accepted all but two. One man asked her to dance then refused to give her up when another man tried to 'cut in.'

They danced and he kissed her when the second number was over. The kiss was astonishingly exciting. She melted into him like a contented cat next to the window in the sun. She pushed her body against him and as I watched I knew that before the night was over my wife would have him inside her. I could see her purr like a cat against his body. I could see her soften and react to his sexuality. I could almost disconnect her from my wife to a woman in a porn video about to get fucked, and I found myself becoming erect as I watched them respond to one another.

I had not asked her about watching, but I found myself wanting to be able to see him fuck her, to watch his hard cock push into her. I found myself longing to see him thrusting into her. I started hoping to see her take him into her mouth and bringing him to a come-shooting orgasm, taking his ejaculation down her throat, swallowing all he had to give her. I found myself enthusiastic at the idea of her being pleasured and thinking it was because I loved her enough to enjoy her pleasure right along with her.

What Mike had told me about feeling good about her pleasure was true. I was watching her be romanced and I was getting turned on by watching her being pleasured by a horny fellow with a hard cock and a bed to offer her. I watched her leave with him and although it was not what we had talked about I still wanted her to go through with it.

As they drove away I thought about what he probably was about to do to her. I thought about them driving away, his hand going to between her legs and I saw her in my mind opening her legs willingly for his hand.

When she came home at three that morning I was awake. I waited until she had her clothes off, then I raised up and asked how it went. "It was good," she said. "I was very excited on the way to his place.

"Did you fuck him?" I asked.

"Many times," she said sounding tired but still excited by the experience, perhaps still aroused by the newness of her time with someone other than me. She got into bed and I put my arms around her. She cuddled against me like she had in our first years together.

"Was it what you had hoped?" I asked. She sighed and said it was. "So you liked it?"

"I did, yes," she said with a breathy reply. "I like fucking a lot," she said.

Her second time out was with the same man, although she said she didn't intend to limit herself to just one lover. His name was Jordan and he worked at a law firm, had two children and an ex-wife. Each time she was with him they met at the hotel and he paid for the room. They didn't talk much, didn't visit or chat. They simply fucked and left one another with a simple kiss and a quick saying-goodbye groping. Each time in the room he undressed her, then let her pick the position and acquiesced to however she wanted to fuck. He simply wanted to be in her, and he didn't care from which angle his dick came from.

As I listened to her tell me about her times with him, I pictured what they were doing, seeing his cock thrusting into my wife's splayed and puffy pussy, imagining her with her legs spread and him eating her, bringing her to multiple orgasms and making her squirm and call out as he satisfied her with his mouth and tongue.

Tonight she is out with a new friend. His name is Mark and she met him at work. I am going to watch a game tonight, then I'll listen when she gets home to her tell me about her night out. Do I want the same freedoms? Do I want to have sex with other women? No, I don't think so. I am not at that place. It is possible, I suppose, that time may eventually come, I doubt it, but it may be possible. Right now, however there is no need. I have learned, however, that you never say never.