I Might Not Even Sleep with Him...

One sunday morning, I wanted to go out fishing. It's about the only hobby I have, although I only go once in a blue moon when the weather is right and my mood is good. My car wouldn't start though, wouldn't even turn over. Flat battery, I checked the light switch and sure enough, I'd left the lights on friday night. I connected the battery charger from the garage and asked my wife if I could borrow her car. "Sure!" she said, still relaxing in bed - "Just pick up the newspapers for later". I grabbed her keys, put my rod and bag in her car and drove off. The newsagents was on the route to the river so I pulled up outside. It was shut, but was due to open in ten minutes so I sat in the car. Not having anything to read, I opened the glove box to see if there was anything to occupy my time there. There was - a dirty pair of Claire's knickers wadded up and stuffed inside. I balled them up and craftily brought them to my nose, hidden from the few men queing outside the shop, and had a deep sniff. Disapointingly they must have been fairly old, as they were dry and crusty. I put them down and carefully opened them up, but there was just dried pussy juice in the gusset. I put them back where I found them and looked around some more inside the small car. My wife had an awful habit of piling rubbish behind the passenger's seat and something looked out of place amongst the crisp packets and chocolate bar wrappers. I lifted an empty drinks can off it, and there was a condom. Used.

Doing the same thing, I brought it to my nose and could clearly smell a rancid stink. Clearly this was also old. No way was I going to taste that!

Putting it back, I looked up to see one old gentleman in the queue staring right at me. He caught my eye and gave a slow, small smile. Had he seen me? If he had, what did he think? Then the shop opened, the queue shuffled in and I joined them to buy the sunday papers. I went fishing and then went home. Of course I never mentioned to my wife what I'd found in her car, but later that night, as I lay awake sleeplessly, something occured to me; Why a condom? She was on the pill and it was clear from my late night feasts that she had unprotected sex with her lover.

One tuesday morning, she had a shower then came back to the bedroom while I lay in bed and dressed in front of me. Her bald pubis no longer shocked me and she shaved it in the shower each morning to keep it smooth. The sun was out and she drew back the curtains, stretching in the light - seemingly not caring if anyone in the street saw her. She then picked out light summer dress with a deeply scooped neckline from the wardrobe. Slipping it over her head, it came down to mid thigh and looked fantastic. She sat down at the dressing table to do her makeup and hair, and casually said "I'm bringing a friend home tonight, can you tidy the house up a bit?" Before I could ask who, she had her fine golden earings in place and was walking past the window and gone. As you have probably gathered, I'm sometimes slow to react to the unexpected and there were two things that hit me once she'd gone;

1) Who was she bringing home? This was unusual, we don't live near her friends or work so visitors weren't common. Was it him?

2) When she walked past the window, I could see every outline of her body. Breasts, belly, thighs. It was thin cotton and I suddenly realised she had no underwear on at all! And she was going to work like that, in a busy office. What was going on? Most of the people she worked with were men - I have noticed that where women work together, they very rarely dress for effect, fearing the scorn if they show too much. Clearly she didn't consider that an issue!

Yet again my heart was thumping away, my breath short and my dick hard. I stroked it slowly, knowing that anyone who looked at her today would easily be able to make out the darkness of her aureolas. Her nipples are soft most of the time, but with her 36C's they would be pushing against the fabric. Although the dress was long enough to hide herself if she bent over, the hem was light to be flicked up in the lightest of breezes. These thoughts turned me on to new heights and I very quickly shuddered to a huge orgasm. Reaching into my sock drawer to clean off the shameful mess on my belly, a chuckled to myself; "At least nobody will see a dark triangle between her legs since she started shaving!". After work that night, I set-to and soon had the house looking tidy and smelling nice. Carpets vacuumed, some flowers from the garden on the mantelpiece and fresh linen on the bed.

I ate my solo meal and watched some TV. Shortly after 8pm lights flashed across the curtain and I heard her car draw up. Another flash and another engine meant her friend had followed her home. I put the telly on mute and walked out into the hall, hearing her voice talking to somebody as she walked to the door. A key in the lock as I turned on the hall light and she stepped in. She stepped forward to me and gave me a peck on the cheek and a quick squeeze, then turned around to introduce the man who had followed her through the door and shut it.

"Hi love, this is Dave - he's a friend from work. I said he could come home for a drink tonight.". Dave was a little older than myself, white, very well groomed with a neat business suit. A touch shorter than my six feet, and had his hair cut short to hide the beginnings of baldness, but you could tell he took care of himself. Where I'd run to fat once I left my manual job, he had a solid middle and square shoulders - I bet he worked out in the gym. He had presence, too - and charm. I immediately liked him. I glanced at his left hand - yes, he had a wedding ring on his third finger. So he was married.

Dave smiled disarmingly and put his other hand forward to shake. "Nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you" he said. I smiled back and shook his hand. Firm, manly, and yes, dominant. Here was a man who was successful.

Claire smiled brightly and said "Come on in, take your shoes off and relax." She still wore the same dress and even in the hallway lighting, you could clearly see more than a decent woman would show, and her nipples were making small peaks. The walked past me in the hallway and went through into the lounge. I followed them in and they sat down next to each other on the sofa. My wife flashed me a beautiful smile and said, "Open us up a bottle of that nice red, won't you?" I said "Sure thing" and went to get it. We keep our wine downstairs in the cellar, so I had to climb down beneath the house and find it. As it happens, the lounge is directly above our wine rack and I could hear their voices, his low and quiet, hers higher and a little giggly. It took me a few minutes to find the right bottle, I knew which one she meant - we were given it for Christmas from a relative and had been saving it for an occasion. I guess she'd decided tonight was that special event. As I stood up I realised I could no longer hear voices. I clomped up the wooden stairs, turned off the cellar light and closed the door. I then went to the kitchen and got three of our best wine glasses and a corkscrew. I took the cork out - strictly speaking red wine should breathe for a while, but we're not wine snobs and I didn't think she would mind so I took it straight in. As I entered, I could see them look up startled and in a second took in the facts. The lights had been dimmed, Claire's dress was now pulled up higher than when I'd left, her nipples were sticking out even further, and Dave's fingers were wet. Again, I said nothing and passed Dave one of the glasses, which he took with his sticky fingers, wrapping them around the bowl of the glass, just brushing against my own. I then passed the second glass to Claire before setting my own down on the table. That I hadn't said anything about what was obviously going on seemed to please Dave and he noticably relaxed while I poured first Claire's drink, then his and then my own. She was already confident I wasn't going to make a scene, but this was the first time Dave and I had met, and by now it was clear he was her lover.

I sat down in the comfy chair and we chatted about simple things, the day's weather, how busy work was for each of us and the day's news. This only took five minutes or so and when conversation petered out, Claire took the remote and turned the tv's sound back on. We all sat back and watched some fairly bland sitcom. From my angle, I couldn't really see them that well other than they were sitting very close and seemed to be quite fidgety.

I topped up her glass once, but when I held the bottle of Dave's he's covered it with his hand and said "No thanks, I've got to drive back later"

As the sitcom finished, Claire stood up and said to me; "We've brought some work home with us for a project that's due tomorrow, we're going to work on it here." She bent down and kissed me then walked out of the lounge with Dave following her. I heard them cross the hall and then enter our bedroom.

Wow, I thought. What work do they mean? They had no bags, folders of briefcases with them, and she certainly wasn't carrying anything under that dress!

The lounge was at the other end of the house, and with the tv going I couldn't hear them talking. I sat dumbly staring at the tv screen, not seeing a thing for perhaps ten minutes before my curiosity forced me out of the chair. Leaving the tv on, I softly walked towards the bedroom. The hallway light was off, but the bedroom light on and the door slightly ajar. I stood close by, but the door opens towards a wall and there was no way I could see anything, and if I tried to push the door open wider they would have seen immediately. And although it was at ground level, I'd drawn the curtains when I was making the bed earlier.

I could hear the bed creaking though, and no voices. I stood immobile and just listened.

She moaned. Softly and quietly. I could hear it plainly.

I imagined him lying next to her, the dress already on the floor, caressing her breasts and thighs, stroking her naked pubic mound.

A rustle of clothing, then a heavy creak. That must be him removing his clothing and getting into bed. Into bed - with my wife!

Even now, a voice in my head was shouting "DO something! He's about to fuck your wife!" but I could do nothing. I didn't want to. I was entirely passive, a bystander in this arrangement. If my views had been considered then they had been cast aside as if worthless, and worthless was how I felt right then. Worthless and helpless. Standing outside the bedroom door while a stranger ploughs the woman I'm married to. In our marriage bed. My bed. My house. My turf.

I heard her sigh - that sigh she used to make when I entered her. Only now it was for him. The creaking increased, developing a rythm. She was moaning almost constantly now, with the odd "Oh, Dave..." clearly audible around the door. I realised I had my fly undone and was stroking my rock-hard penis in time with them.

Her voice louder now, then I heard him for the first time. "Shh...!" he said, clearly worried I would hear them from my supposed location in the lounge. She ignored him, getting even louder. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" She knew me, she knew I wouldn't disturb them. A knot formed in my stomach as the full weight of what was happening slammed home. She could do what she liked, as if she was free and single, and I wouldn't do a damned thing. In fact I'd help her by providing the appearance of a happily married couple.

A scream of passion as she came. No way I wouldn't have heard that in the lounge - I could have heard it clear across the street! Dave was grunting now too, and then a "Aaahhh!" of release as he joined her in ogasmic bliss. I also ejaculated, spraying the door, but silently for they also had stopped making noise. They must be lying there together now, still joined but him softening inside her.

I retreated to the lounge and took my place back on the sofa. Soon, I could see the hall light come on and Dave appeared in the doorway. He was dressed, poorly, and his tie was dangling out of his pocket. He had lipstick smudged across his mouth. He smiled and said, "I'm off now, nice meeting you". I said "Bye, you too" and he stayed in the doorway a second longer, as if he wanted to say something else but was fighting an internal struggle. Finally he overcame it and softly asked, "Is that really your wife?" I nodded yes and he widened his eyes and said, "Shit...", then turning, collecting his shoes in the hall and leaving. I heard his car start up and back slowly out into the street, then the lights flashed across the window and he was gone.

No sound from Claire, but I turned off the tv and walked around the house making sure the door was locked and lights were off before going into the bedroom. The lights were still on and she was lying back on the bed, propped up by the pillows, completely naked, watching me. Was this a test? Did she expect me to explode in anger and spite? I couldn't do that, so I walked past and said conversationally, "Dave seems like a nice bloke. Did you get your work done ok?"

That actually shocked her - I could see it in her eyes. I wondered if she thought that I didn't care if she screwed somebody in our wedding bed, but the truth was very different. I cared very deeply, and that depth of my love meant I wanted the best for her. Clearly I hadn't been able to provide it myself.

She looked beautiful lying there. Hair askew, a post-coital blush on her pink skin, softening the contrast between her dark red auraelia and the untanned skin of her breasts. Further down, her legs were slightly apart and I could clearly see her labia were enlarged and a soft rose colour. They were also slick with juices and a glimpse of whiteness at the bottom of the lips showed Dave had not worn a condom. I loved her more than I ever had before.

"You look lovely," I said as I undressed myself for bed, "do you want cleaning?". I asked it as if it was the most natural thing in the world and nothing to do with sex, perversions or unfaithfulness.

She shook her head, still not having said anything.

"Ok," I said meekly and slipped between the covers and turned the light off. We lay there together, a foot apart, for ten minutes, then I guess she got cold as she pulled the covers over her naked body and turned so her back was towards me.

She said something that I couldn't heard. "Sorry?" I asked.

"Hold me," she said, a little louder.

I turned onto my side and slid so I was lying up close to her, and spooned. One arm over her waist, just below her breasts. She was stiff, so I asked "What's the matter, are you ok?" She relaxed then and murmered, "Yes, if you are." "I'm fine," I answered, and snuggled in closer.

Her warmth and softness soon had my erection returning and we were positioned so that it raised up between her legs. I could feel the warmth and wetness of her drooling cunt as it touched her there. I lay still, savouring the knowledge that the last of the seed from my frustrated wank outside the door was mingling with Dave's as it pushed between her lips. Finally I could bear it no longer and gave the tiniest of thrusts. The head of my dick slipped perhaps half an inch inside her folds, but she straightened up and with a firm "No!" pushed me back over onto my side. "Ah well," I mused to myself, "At least I didn't get the wet spot". And, with that thought I slipped into oblivion remarkably quickly for such a momentous day.

She brought Dave home about once a week after that. Sometimes they didn't even say hello, just rushed past me straight into the bedroom. On one occasion, it was still daylight and I knew the curtains were open, so I silently walked into the back garden and peeped around. I had an excellent view. Claire was riding Dave cowgirl-style, her back towards me and her long black hair flowing down it as she bounced up and down on his cock. Dave's hands were holding her breasts, and I could see even from the back the tight skin as he twisted and pulled them. My wife always enjoyed a little firmness there and I was strangely aroused to see that she had taught another how to pleasure her in that way. I only had the briefest of glimpses before I heard a familiar voice shout, "Why, howdy stranger!" and looked up to see my neighbour, Chris, in his garden next door. A pair of secateurs in his hand told me he'd been out pruning and had seen me. He couldn't see into the bedroom from where he was, so to prevent him walking further along his fence to a place where he would have been able to see in, I smiled and walked over to talk to him. John and I had chatted a few times when we were both working in our gardens, and although it was hard to concentrate on the conversation while my wife fucked somebody else only feet away, I kept him talking for a little while - Chris had served in the Royal Navy as an officer and now in his 60's, was retired. Sadly his wife had died a few years before, but he was determindly cheerful and kept himself busy. His garden put mine to shame and he was often out there working away when it wasn't raining.

Suddenly I could hear my wife approaching orgasm so started talking louder. "Say Chris, how do you get your Roses looking so beautiful?" I asked. He had obviously heard her and was looking confused, but my question triggered pride in his abilities and he started to tell me about soil preparation, feeding and pruning. Occasionally his brow wrinkled and he cast a sidelong glance towards my house whenever Claire screamed particularly loudly, but he stuck by his guns and by the time he had finished telling me how to control aphids, the house was silent. We talked a little longer and it was clear he was distracted and I guess my ignoring the obvious must have assured him everything was normal. I heard a vehicle start up and drive away in the street just as I was saying bye to Chris and walked back into the house to find Dave gone. One thing good about Dave was he never hung around to drink my beer, eat my snacks or make a nuisance of himself. He visited for one purpose, and from what I'd just seen, he fulfilled that very well.

I entered the bedroom to see my wife once again laying naked on the bed. I was upbeat as usual and asked her "Hi Petal, you have a good day?" as if nothing at all was wrong.

Ignoring my question, she said softly, "Clean me, please". I nodded and climbed onto the bed. Lowering myself to her vagina, I was surprised not to see any of the usual white gunk oozing out. As if she read my mind, she said, "No, lower." I looked down and saw that she meant her anus. Dave had chosen a different hole today. I was surprised, she'd never let me try that, but I had a job to do. There was no way I could reach it where she was lying, so I took my pillow and motioned for her to move up. She arched herself so that her bottom cleared the sheets and I slid it under. Lying flat in front of her, I moved in. This was very different, the angles, the view, the smell. Her anus was red and sore, with a wet-looking shine. A thought occured. I raised my head and looked at my bedside table where I kept a small tub of Vaseline to treat some dry skin I get on my toes, and it was open. They'd used my Vaseline! Had he scooped it out with his fingers, or plunged his dick into it?

I returned to her arsehole and started lapping away. Working from the outside in, catching the dribbles that had run downwards first. My tongue explored her sphincter, somewhere it had never been before - with her or anyone else. I wasn't especially turned on by scat, but I was horny as hell by the act I was performing now. Gently probing and pushing, my tongue entered that most taboo of places. Obviously it was looser than it would otherwise have been, but it was still much tighter than her vagina and I couldn't move it around much. I could tell by Claire's breathing that she was getting close to orgasm with my lapping and swirling. My nose was pressed up tight just below her vagina and I was breathing through my mouth, breathing in the combined smell of their sex, this time mixed with another, darker and familiar smell. She came, and her legs clamped down, trapping me in place and pushing me so tight I couldn't breathe! This was a long, slow orgasm and she was spasmodically jerking for what seemed like forever. I tried to keep going with my tongue, but soon the lack of air was having an affect and my ears started ringing, stars appeared in my vision and I felt myself drifting away. Luckily she released her pressure before I blacked out and I was able to fall back and breathe deeply. I was incredibly turned on. Kneeling up in bed, still facing her, I took my penis out and started masturbating whilst looking at her. My rythmic movements must have seeped into her post-orgasmic fog and she opened her eyes. They quickly widened in shock and she blurted out, "No! Go away, you pervert.", and grabbed the covers to hide herself. Embarrassed and confused, I left the room. Half an hour later she was dressed in her comfy cotton tracksuit and came into the lounge. Nothing was said about what had happened, and we talked as normal.