How I Met My Husband Ch. 01

You pretty much need to read Chapter 0 to follow the story. If you're just here for the sex scenes, jump right in!

Chapter One: Changes

The next morning, I woke up disoriented and confused. The memory of the previous night flooded back into me, and I glanced over at the couch. The afghan I covered her with lay in a pile on the floor and she wasn't there. My bladder was screaming at me and I rushed off to silence it, then looked around the house for her. I had a sense of dread, worried about her opinion of what we talked about the night before, now that she was sober. I finally found her on the back porch, sitting at the patio table and drinking coffee. From my view from behind her, it looked like she was staring off into the distance.

"Morning, baby," I said.

She turned, tilted her head back, and pursed her lips for me to kiss. A flood of relief went through me....she wasn't mad or upset. I quickly kissed her, then went back inside and got a cup of coffee myself. A minute later, I rejoined her.

I hesitated, then said, "Baby, about last night..."

"Last night was the best sex I ever remember having with you," she said, interrupting me. "And you came twice, so I think it was pretty damn good for you, too."

"Yeah, it was," I agreed. "But I feel a little bad about it, too."

"For what?" she said, smiling. "About admitting you've fantasized about guys?"

"Yeah," I mumbled. "And that the idea of you and Cathy getting it on turned me on so much."

"It turned me on too," she admitted. I waited for her to continue, but only got silence that lasted for several uncomfortable minutes.

"I want to," she suddenly said, her voice trembling with nervousness.

"Want to what?" I said, confused.

"Sleep with Cathy," she said. "I won't if you tell me not to, but I hope you don't."

I was conflicted. On one hand, the idea of Cathy and Dottie kissing, fondling each other's breasts, and licking each other's pussies was exciting...what guy doesn't like seeing that? On the other hand, it was my wife. It was a step that, once taken, led our relationship into unknown, troubling territories. I started to say something, realized that I didn't know what I wanted to say, then shut my mouth.

She reached over and took my hand. "Listen," she said, "nobody can replace you or take my love from you. You're mine, and I'm yours, for now and forever. But this is something I want to explore. This is something that I want to do. I respect your feelings and won't do anything you don't agree to, but I really want to do this."

Her honesty made me examine my emotions. I discovered that I was more worried about losing her love and companionship than I was worried about sharing her body with another woman.

I had a lump of fear in my throat, but I swallowed it down and replied, "If it's something you want to do, I won't say no."

She smiled. "Thank you," she said, then leaned over and kissed me. "I have things I want to do with you, too."

"What things?" I asked. I couldn't think of anything that we hadn't tried, every possible position and every possible location you could imagine. We'd tried anal a few times, but she said it made her feel dirty and hurt, and we never did it again.

She grinned at me. "One step at a time, love." I sensed a finality in her voice ending the conversation and didn't pursue it.

For the first part of the next week, Dottie didn't say anything about Cathy. On Tuesday, she had an interview for the promotion that she wanted, then another on Thursday. That she had a second interview was promising, and we were both excited about it.

But in counterpoint to her week, mine was a disaster. One of the many projects I had going blew up in my face. I'd like to say it wasn't my fault, that it was just happenstance, but in truth I didn't have time to monitor it like I should. My manager reassigned it to someone else, along with another project that was obviously struggling. I was ashamed of myself, but I still had a job. I took heart in that and redoubled my efforts on the projects I had left. By the time I got home on Friday, I was mentally exhausted but had finished one project that was successful enough to call it a win.

Dottie had texted me that she would be late, but had lots of good news. I meandered around the house, cleaning here and there, then fixed a quick dinner for us. When she got home, she was beaming. She rushed up to me and gave me a soul-searing kiss that almost took my breath away. There was a strange taste on her lips that I couldn't place, though.

"I got the position!" she said, "I'm the district vice-president! They told me this morning. I was going to call you but I got too busy meeting my new staff and moving into my office."

I laughed, and picked her up, spinning her around before setting her back down. "That's fantastic, baby! I knew you were the best pick for the job!" I said, beaming. I kissed her again, as intensely as she'd kissed me before.

I broke the kiss and pulled away from her. "Hey, what did you have for lunch?" I asked, still smiling. "I can taste it on your lips."

She giggled. "I had Cathy for lunch. Well, a late lunch," she said.

I froze the smile on my face as a bolt of electricity shot through me.

"We left work early to celebrate, and ended up at her house," she continued, watching my reaction closely.

I forced a smile on my face. "Well, how was it?" I asked.

"It was...incredible," she gushed. "I didn't really know what to expect. But it felt...good, natural. It was like foreplay until I orgasmed. I don't know how to explain it. And I know how you feel when you make me cum with your mouth...it was a rush feeling her pussy spasm against my lips."

An ugly, jealous thought popped into my head and I voiced it before I could stop myself. "Better than me?"

She hugged me and then kissed me. "Not better. Different, but not better. You're like chocolate cake, and I LOVE chocolate cake. She's like cherry pie, and I love cherry pie, too. They're both very good, but not the same."

She held me in the hug and my fear and jealousy slowly started to ebb. God, I loved this woman, and the longer she was in my arms the less her dalliance with Cathy seemed to matter.

We had dinner, and went to bed early. We made long, slow love and I fell asleep with her against me, her head on my shoulder and her armed draped over me. Everything was right with the world.

The euphoric feeling I had quickly evaporated on Monday. My manager told me that all of my projects except one had been reassigned to other people. He assured me that there wasn't any problem with my productivity, that he just wanted to get some of the younger staff (Younger? At 29, I was the youngest project manager we had!) some experience in managing projects. I sensed the lie in his words, causing a sense of dread that I couldn't shake.

Wednesday, Dottie asked me if I felt like inviting Cathy and her husband over for dinner on Saturday. It felt kind of weird, knowing what had gone on between her and Cathy, but I readily agreed. I figured it'd probably be a good idea to get to know her, especially if her and Dottie continued their sexual relationship. I felt the need to show my support for her, even if it made me a bit uncomfortable.

On Thursday, I had my feet kicked out from underneath me. I showed up at my usual time, and within 10 minutes the security manager came by my office. I didn't expect it...businesses usually let people go on a Friday. The long walk to the HR Manager's office was almost unbearable. I didn't let any emotion show when I was informed that the company was downsizing again, and how sorry they were to let me go, and how much of an asset I was, and how the economy was bad but there were other organizations out there would would be lucky to have me, blah, blah, blah. By the time I got back to my desk, security had already boxed up all my stuff and reminded me about all the confidentiality agreements I'd signed when I was hired. At least they didn't frog-march me out, allowing me to make the rounds and say goodbye to my coworkers. I discovered that I wasn't the only one...several desks I stopped at to say my goodbyes were already vacant.

I went home, called Dottie, and broke the news to her. "Oh, shit," she said. "I'm sorry, baby." She told me that she had a meeting to go to, and that we'd talk when she got home.

I was in a deep funk for the rest of the day. When she got home, she walked up to me and gave me a long embrace. "You ok?" she asked, looking up at me.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm just worried about finding another job. Everybody is downsizing, nobody is hiring."

She led me over to the kitchen table and we sat down. "I was doing some thinking after you called," she said. "This isn't really going to hurt us as bad as you think. My promotion almost covers half of what you made, and we'll save by you not having to travel to work and pay for lunches every day. There's also some perks I haven't taken advantage of. One is a company car...we can sell my car and get out from under that payment." My car was paid off, but we were still paying $750 a month on hers.

"Plus," she continued, "I get a clothing allowance and some other allowances that leave us in better shape then we were before my promotion and when you were still working."

"Show me," I said, not believing her. Over the next 20 minutes she showed me, mathematically, everything that she had claimed. We actually came out slightly ahead of what we were making before. I was impressed with her reasoning, and it made me feel a whole lot better about our situation.

"So," she concluded, "there's no rush for you to get back to work. Take some time off, think about what you want to do next." Then she paused with a mysterious glint in her eye. "You can even be the housewife for a while. Not many guys get the chance to do that."

I laughed. "So I should be wearing an apron, with perfect makeup, and dinner ready on the table when you get home tomorrow?"

Was that a look of relief I saw on her face? "Damn straight," she said, breaking into a huge smile. "And after dinner, you can make me a drink and give me a blowjob like a good wife." We both laughed at that.

Everything felt weird the next morning, not getting ready for work and staying at home while Dottie drove off. I puttered around the house but not doing much. Dottie called me several times to check on me during the day but I assured her that I was fine. An hour or so before she was supposed to get home, I started cooking dinner.

Everyone tells me that I'm a really good cook. Dottie is an even better cook but she didn't like the process of cooking whereas I did. I went all out and made a chicken disk that I knew she loved. I had the table laid out perfectly and had just put everything out when our conversation from the previous night popped into my head. On a whim I found her apron, a frilly thing she'd gotten for Christmas one year that said "Damn Right She Can Cook!", and put it on just as I heard the front door open.

"Honey?" I heard her call out.

"In the dining room," I answered, grinning. I know she'd be pleased with dinner, and she'd get a laugh out of the apron. As she walked in, I gave her a sexy feminine pose and said "Ta-DAAAAA". I expected her to laugh, but she just gave me a mischievous grin.

"Incredible,' she said, her grin getting wider. "Now this is what every breadwinner should come home to."

The comment about my joblessness stung a little bit, but I didn't let it show. I walked up to her and gave her a kiss, then pulled her chair out for her to sit. I hung up the apron and we ate, talking about our respective days. After dinner, she said she was going into the living room to watch TV and that I should join her after I cleaned dinner up.

"And wear your apron," she said as she walked out of the dining room. "You don't want to get your clothes dirty."

I was a bit disgruntled at that. When she cooked, I usually helped her pick up after dinner and vice-versa. However, I put the apron back on, put away the leftovers, cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes. After I finished, I joined her in the living room.

She smiled at me, then said, "Take your apron off, silly." I glanced down in surprise, realizing that I was still wearing it. After I had taken it off and hung it back up, she told me, "Wasn't there a promise of an after dinner drink, too?"

I laughed, then said in a falsetto, "Yes, dear." If she wanted to play out the conversation from the night before, I was willing. I made her a gin and tonic, then handed it to her.

Her voice went low and husky. "And wasn't there supposed to be a blowjob?" she said.

"Hard to give you a blowjob when you don't have a dick," I quipped, laughing.

She pulled her skirt up, revealing the fact that she wasn't wearing panties. My eyes grew wide when I also saw that she had shaved her pussy. She hadn't done that in a long time, saying that it itched when the hair grew back. "I guess you'll just have to do the best with what I've got, then."

I wasted no time, getting on my knees before her and lowering my lips to her bare, glistening pussy. She was already wet and the sight, smell, and taste of her made me hard almost instantly. My excitement led to an inspired pussy-licking and within minutes she was in the throes of an orgasm, her hips bucking up against my mouth. She came hard, again flooding my mouth with her juices. I kept licking until she couldn't stand it any more, then stood up and sat next to her. I started to take my dick out of my pants, expecting her to reciprocate, but she gently slapped my hand away from my zipper.

"Tonight, in bed," she said, cuddling up to me. "I want you good and hard and ready to fuck when we go to bed tonight."

I was a bit upset at being left hanging, but I didn't say anything. We watched TV for a while, then she pulled away from me and announced that she was ready for bed. As she went to the bedroom, I quickly shut down the house, and dashed up the stairs to join her. When I got there, she was already naked and waiting for me, her fingers absently toying with her pussy. I gave her a big grin, quickly stripped, and was about to leap onto her when she suddenly sat up.

"I'm on top tonight," she said. "I want to ride you and ride you hard."

I wasn't going to argue with her. She knew it was more difficult for me to cum when she was on top, but she liked that I lasted longer that way. I laid out on the bed and she straddled me. Lining my rock-hard dick up with her pussy, she slowly sank down onto me, moaning softly as she did so. She rode me and, true to her word, rode me hard. She was wetter than usual, and she slammed her pussy up and down my dick like a woman inspired.

"Play with my titties," she moaned. "I'm gonna cum again....play with them and make me cum."

While her advantage of being on top was my longevity, mine was that my hands were free to explore. I grabbed both of her tits forcefully, not playing with them as much as using them to grab onto so I could fuck back into her as hard as she was fucking down onto me. Her second orgasm of the night hit her hard. She slammed her pussy against me and I could feel it convulse as she rocked back and forth. It went on and on, and her moans grew louder and louder until she shook hard and went still.

The sight and sound was so erotic that I had felt the tickle of orgasm approaching. Unfortunately, it fled as soon as she stopped moving

"Holy Christ," she mumbled. Her eyes were a bit glassy and unfocused. I gave her a couple gentle pumps from underneath her, reminding her that we weren't done yet.

"Give me a second," she said breathlessly. "That was really, really intense."

My poor, rock hard dick was screaming for release, but I waited until she collected herself. Unexpectedly, she raised up and then flopped down next to me on the bed. She spread her legs and I wasted no time crawling between them. I slid into her and immediately started fucking her with abandon. All I could think about was cumming, about shooting my cum deep inside her.

I could feel it approaching when suddenly she grabbed my nipples and did to me what I did to her, using them to set the tempo. The new, unexpected sensation didn't as much push as SHOVE me over the edge, and the orgasm I had was as intense as hers earlier. I emptied my nights worth of desire deep inside her with jet after jet of cum. After I was able to move again, I slowly pulled my softening dick from out then laid down next to her. She cuddled up next to me.

"I think I'm going to like having you at home full-time," she said. Silently, I agreed. If the sex was going to be as good as this, I was going to like being at home full time myself.

The next day started out a normal Saturday, except that Dottie disappeared into the bedroom that we had set up as an office. I took care of most of the chores while she worked. I figured it was fair since we were living off of her income. Housework wasn't difficult, and I actually kind of enjoyed doing it. We both finished up what we were doing about the same time, had a quick lunch, then she reminded me that we were having company that evening.

We talked about what to serve for dinner, and she suggested another dish of mine that was especially good.

"I guess I'm cooking again," I said.

"Better that you do it than me," she responded. "I'll admit that I'm a little bit nervous about tonight. I don't want to get all flustered and screw up dinner."

"YOU'RE nervous?" I said, laughing. "I'm going to meet my wife's lover and my wife's lover's husband."

"You've met Cathy before," she reminded me.

"Yeah, but that was before. Things are different now," I answered.

"True," she conceded, "but I think you'll get over your nervousness a lot faster than I would."

Then she surprised me. "Come and take a shower with me," she said. "We can wash each other's backs...and other things."

When we were first married, we used to shower together almost every day. As time went on and demands grew, however, it became less and less frequent. I liked showering with her...she had a very nice body and it was fun to explore and play with.

"Sure!" I said. We moved to the bathroom, stripped, and got the shower going. I washed her back and then her front. I made sure her pussy was especially clean, intending to make her cum but she shied away before she got to that point.

"Playtime later," she said, shaking her finger at me. "You wash while I shave my legs." I quickly washed, then watched her finish shaving her legs. Like the rest of her, she had nice legs and for some reason I always got a thrill watching her shave them.

"Smooth?" she asked, grabbing my hand and placing it on her thigh while still holding her razor. I ran my hand up and down it, wondering if we'd have time for a quick romp before we needed to start dinner.

"Very," I confirmed. Then she picked up her can of shaving cream and sprayed a line across my chest.

I laughed. "Shaving cream wars?" I asked. "And here I am unarmed." My can of shaving cream was on the bathroom sink.

She just gave me a grin, then swiped her razor against my chest, leaving a trail of bare hairless skin.

"Hey!" I almost yelled, jumping back.

She put her hand on her hip and gave me a smile. "Hey, I'm just playing. But you'll look silly with just that little bit of hair gone."

She finished shaving my chest, then rinsed me off. Grabbing my hand and placing it on my now bare chest, she again asked, "Smooth?"

I rubbed my hand over my chest, and the sensation of hairlessness my dick began to inflate a bit. "Very," I answered again. I liked the way it felt, and obviously so did she, as her hand rubbed across my chest also.

"Raise your arms," she said in a sexy voice.

"Why?" I asked.

"I'm going to shave your armpits," she simply said. "I like your chest all nice and smooth. I want to see what the rest of you feels like that way."