In Her Own Words

But she did throw me a bone. A little gift meant to please me. I think maybe she was trying to make up for her little indiscretion.

Not long after that she surprised me one day with a voice cassette. I listened to it in private and it blew my mind. She had made up a story about her and another man. It was really hot and surprised me with its vivid descriptions of her and another man in various sex acts and how he had seduced her.

I showed my appreciation to her and we both started doing it. She always recorded hers sitting on the floor in our bedroom with the door closed. Standing quietly and secretly behind the closed door, I could hear her cumming while she was recording hers so I knew they were impacting her in a positive way. As for the ones I gave her, they were never about me. They were always a story about her and another man or woman. She always waited until our son was asleep or gone and then went in the same bedroom and closed the door where she lay on our bed and listened to it. At first, I stood secretly outside the door and listened intently as I could hear my voice quietly drone. Even over my voice I couldn't miss her voice as she breathed hard and sharp before moaning into an orgasm.

Then I got wise and, anticipating what was to happen, I barely opened our bedroom window, slightly parted the curtains, and stood outside to hear and observe the show she put on while listening to the tape. My God, the woman could cum!!

However. However. Still, there was definitely an iffy" part. No matter how I tried to shake it, I couldn't help but harbor a deep, erotic suspicion about her during my absence. I mentioned before that I had detected a very dramatic shift, a change in her demeanor, starting just a couple of months after she came home from her trip to see me. Maybe it was that sudden shift in her demeanor those few months after she had returned after her trip. Maybe it was just a lusty imagination on my part. Whatever, I definitely had my suspicions and couldn't shake them.

Odd things happen. Sometimes two and two DO make four.

Soon after my return years before I had became aware that there was a young intern who had come to work in the same department in the hospital that my wife worked. He had arrived about two or three months after the two of us had been separated for my tour of duty and before her visit. He remained there for about a year after my return. I only met him one time and that was right after I got back. He was one of the lucky ones in life. Good looks, money, terrific mannerisms...and a boatload of family money. For a long time I thought nothing of it. I liked the man.

But, people talk. Gossip. Sometimes embellishing to stir interest. (Don't we all?) And unfortunately that talk reaches unintended ears.

My wife has an unmarried sister about two years older than she that also works in the same hospital. Unlike my wife, who is in a medical field, her sister works in administration. For a lack of a better term, she is a clerk. She is one of those women that can't seem to be able to pull things together. For those men who think she is an attractive enough woman, her odd personality seems offensive. For the men who might be able to live with her oddities, she isn't attractive enough. Bottom line is she has never married and spends a good deal of time talking of others. Personally, I've always liked her.

One day I was painting a room in her house when I started picking up on a phone conversation that she was having with somebody. It took a while but I zoned in on the gist of the conversation. Evidently she was talking to another woman who also worked at the hospital about an intern at the hospital who had just left to go to Pennsylvania. I put two and two together and suspected that it was the same doctor who had worked with my wife. What caught my instant, undivided attention was when my sister-in-law started referring to him as "Doctor Husband" and laughing about him. Whoever he was, it became clear that this guy had a bit of a reputation of being a smooth womanizer and had no qualms about getting involved with married women on the staff.

Later that afternoon she started to drink, which is never a good idea for her. Rather than letting it annoy me as it normally does, I instead had a beer with her and over an hour's time quietly began to ask questions. When I thought it was safe, I asked about a new Doctor on the staff named "Dr. Husband." She laughed and freely admitted that it was only a nickname. The person that she and the other women at the hospital referred to as "Dr. Husband" was actually this intern who worked in my wife's department. In fact, his real name was Duane.

It had my immediate attention.

I pushed a little. I didn't want to cause suspicion or concern. She informed me very proudly the reason for the nickname was that Duane evidently didn't want to be romantically involved so he only approached married women to fulfill his sexual urges. The more she drank and with my probing questions she was more than anxious to talk about him. Seems that he had no interest in her and she was a "woman scorned."

"How long did this go on," I asked without trying to show too much interest.

"Since about a month after he got here." She laughed a little. "He damned sure didn't waste any time."

Then, with a liquor loosened tongue, she made a little mistake.

"Hell," she laughed. "I think he even tried to get close to old Robin one time."

She leaned over and smiled a crooked smile.

"He didn't have a clue who little Miss Straight and Narrow was, did he?"

"No, not at all," I laughed with her. Then I gave her a few seconds and pushed a little.

"When did it happen?" I tried to be innocent and jovial in my questioning.

She thought a minute and then shrugged.

"About Christmas time when you were over there."

I dropped it. We might be friends but, if she remembered our conversation at all, she might confide in Robin that she had said something to me and that I had shown interest. After all, they were sisters and close ones at that!

It stayed in my head after that. It was so coincidental. During my absence I had detected a very real change in her tapes starting around Christmas. Now, years later, Robin's sister was blurting out to me that there may have been at least an attempted seduction at precisely that time.

Just the thought of it made me rock hard. Robin had already admitted to one extemporaneous indiscretion on her part. Had it occurred again? Had she, once more, done an erotic body dance and came to the tune of another's talented fingers? Or more??

It was too exciting to let it just go...to forget about it.

As carefully as I could, I pulled "Dr Husband" into one of our conversations. Very innocently, very nonchalant I brought him up. I tried to keep it comical, easy going.

So did she. I don't know if she could see past my façade but I couldn't miss the strain in her voice. I laughed inside. I'd bet a hundred dollars against the hole in a doughnut that Duane, or "Dr Husband," was one of the men whom my sweet wife had danced with...one of the those lucky one that she admitted excited her when she was doing it.

Oh, yeah. I had it figured out. It was funny. And it was erotic past words!! I only pushed a little after that but it became obvious that there was a definite response.

I decided to push a little farther. I blew it!

We were still exchanging the little sexy stories on tape about every six weeks. Even though it was fun and exciting, I think we were both starting to stretch for story lines.

What to hell! This would be PERFECT!!! I made up a little story about Robin and Duane. I couldn't wait to give it to her.

I gave it to her one night that the weather "was pretty dreary outside. As usual, I went outside and waited with an "anticipation" hard on to see how she would react. How hard would she cum this time with a "real person" in the story?

She undressed and laid back on her back. As was pretty common, she slowly touched herself, before even turning on the little machine. By the time she finally hit the play button her torso was in a slow undulation from her touch.

Thirty seconds later it was over. As soon as my voice filled the room and "Dr Husband's" name came up, she immediately jerked her hand away from her begging pussy and instantly turned the recorder off. She sat straight up and stared at the thing for a long time. Then she got up and put on an old robe before pressing the buttons again. She put it in a drawer in the night stand.

Staying in her robe, she went straight to bed. I wisely chose not to bother her. That night and the next morning I said nothing about any of it. Neither did she. When I got home that evening I finally had a chance to check out the recorder. The tape recorder was there but the tape itself was missing.

That was the last time we exchanged any tapes. (Or stories) She never made another one for me and I got the point. I had gone too far. Evidently, "Dr Husband" was off limits.

I never mentioned him again. However, the thought of what "might have been" between the two of them excited me beyond words and mentally I couldn't leave it alone.

What the hell. Life goes on!

So did our sex life. After getting the cold shoulder for a week or so concerning the disturbing tape we were back in business. I still cajoled, pried, suggested...anything to rev her engine. It all still worked. As a matter of fact, after the "tape thing" it was torrid at times. Not every time, mind you...just certain days. It was if on certain days she was sexually jump started. Wanting to be on top and controlling every thing. Pounding me as if she hadn't had a cock in years. Shoot, I didn't protest!!!

Then...BOOM!!

A pair of scissors.

I needed them to wrap a Christmas gift for her. She and our son were gone for the night and I couldn't find any. I looked everywhere before I gave in and called her. How silly, but I needed them.

There was a long hesitation on her part. I assumed she was having to remember where they were. Later, looking back, I knew she was instead making an important decision.

Her voice was almost husky, shaking when she gave me guidance.

"Look in my sewing box in our closet."

That was it. I said "thanks." She hung up.

Although she was a novice and didn't sew very well, Robin kept a sewing box in the top of our closet.

She did. I found them. It was when I searching for them that I found something else. All at once the scissors were forgotten!

On top of all of her sewing stuff were three of the little cassettes. They had a rubber band around them and a small folded envelope attached. Each of the tapes were dated. The oldest went back to about two weeks before the Christmas that I was gone. Then there was another one dated a week or so after that. The last was dated the 26th of December of the year that we were separated. I assumed that they were just holdovers from those days past. Souvenirs, so to speak. Memories of difficult yet great times. They might even be ones that I sent her.

The envelope was something else all together. I looked at it. It wasn't sealed. If it had been, I'm not sure that I would have opened it.

I'm glad I did.

There was a note. It was simple. It was in her hand writing.

"Well, you finally found this. I'm beginning to think I will have to guide you to it."

A-a-a-h-h-h!! So THAT'S why her voice was so concerned when she guided me to her sewing box. How long had this stuff been here? Jeez, it could have been years!!

I read on. It took only about ten seconds. The impact would last forever.

"You have been asking me about Duane and myself. From your little story there is more than just a tiny interest on your part. I'm not stupid. What you really want to know is if anything ever happened between the two of us while you were gone."

"Well, be careful for what you wish."

"By the way, they're dated. Start with the first."

I could hardly breathe as I carried them to my bed. I took no chances of running out of power. I took out the old recorder, loaded it with four new AA batteries, inserted the oldest dated tape...and prayed. I don't know what about. My thumping heart couldn't decide what it really wanted.

I put in the oldest tape and pressed the "play" button.

Disappointment. Fifteen seconds of silence. This was going to be all about nothing. In a way I was relieved. In a way...disappointed. I laughed. She's jerking my chain...playing a joke on me.

Then a voice cleared. Words came out. Shaking. Hesitant. Raspy at times. Breathing so heavy it was an obstacle at times. Just hearing her voice was a shock. If the date was correct, it had been five years since the tape had been made. It was amazing how her voice had changed since then. It reminded me that even though I was married to a grown woman now, I had married a young girl.

I sat there for a long time. Once I pressed the 'Play" button I never touched it again. Until the tape ended, that is. Than I did the second one. Then the first again. And the second again. I waited until late that night before I played the third. I'm glad that I did.

As I sat with cum drenched hands I knew that, unlike our little games, this was not a tale. It was an admission of guilt by a young wife who had slipped...made a mistake. And very obviously she was remorseful.

Not remorseful enough to share it with me, though. I knew I was never meant to touch these tapes. I had forced the issue. I had asked. She had responded honestly.

It was her story. Her admissions.

So, here it is. Ciphered and translated as accurately as I could. It is meant for you to hear:

IN HER OWN WORDS!!!

"Hi. It's six in the morning on Sunday. I've been tossing all night, trying to figure out how to deal with a situation that has suddenly come into my life. I wish you were here so I could explain in person, but if you were here there would be no explaining to do.

So, I'll talk to this machine just like I do so many times each week, but this will never be sent. I just need something physical to remind me of my weakness and it's easier to explain it if I talk rather than write.

Last night we had our Christmas party at Dr Riley's house. I knew what it would be like even before I went because it's always the same. Same people, same over eating, same gossip. It's cold outside so I decided to wear a long denim skirt and a little matching vest that went with it and a plain blouse.

After I took my bath and started to put on underwear, for some reason I pulled out that little silver thong and bra that you like so well. You know the ones. Nothing but little patches of cloth held together by round string. It barely covers my crotch and the tops of my nipples show. I slipped them on and put on my brown boots and boot socks before putting the skirt on.

Then I happened to look up into the mirror on the door. I looked pretty silly, with me wearing that flimsy nothingness and boots up to the middle of my calf. I didn't move, though, and continued to look at myself for a long time. After a while, my hands started moving over my body a little, first my breasts and then down between my legs.

It really felt good, as it always does. My fingers traced my lips very slowly over my thong, making my hips move as if they were trying to get away. I kept on touching, never taking my eyes off the mirror. I realized I had never done this before, and I really felt the sexuality of looking at myself.

I spent at least five minutes doing that, just touching my breasts and clit, not pressing hard or speeding up. I was really getting wet and just ached, but I made myself stop before I came. I was really proud of myself for the self-control because I always cum so easy. As it turned out, when I left for the party a few minutes later I was absolutely on fire. My self-control last night probably is the main reason I have the situation I have this morning.

When I got there, nothing had changed from the past years. Same people, same everything. A little later Duane showed up. I've told you about him, the intern I work with sometimes in the evening. Dr Riley invited him to the party because he is from Indiana and will be spending Christmas alone here this year.

What I haven't told you is that as time has passed we have got to know each other pretty well. Because we work together so much at night, it has gone from being a casual acquaintance to him flirting pretty heavy with me and then to a little innocent touching... always him, not me.

He knows our situation and that I'm not interested. But, he is a very nice person and really attractive. He has a twin brother back home who is already a dentist. Anyway, we got through the normal white elephant gift exchange and started the goofy games we always play. Last night it was the one where you pass an orange down the line from person to person using nothing but your chin.

It was stupid, but fun. I was standing next to Duane and had to pass it on to him. There is always a lot of body contact, which is why I think the guys like it so much. I tried to pass it to him and there was a lot of body brushing going on. We had difficulty and as it took a while, I felt my nipples become hard as they brushed against his chest.

I was hoping when I stepped back that it wasn't real obvious under that nothing bra. I happened to glance down at him and it was extremely obvious with him. I was embarrassed, tingling all over and becoming even more wet. I wasn't trying to, it was just happening. It's been months since I've been touched like that.

It was about ten and the party was starting to break up. Duane had showed me a lot of attention during the night. I hoped it hadn't been noticed but I doubt it. Not with this bunch and the way they think. I left slightly ahead of him and got into the car, trying to warm it up when he appeared at the window. He said he had to be at work by twelve and wanted to know if I would like to go have coffee with him.

My initial instinct was to say "no." This was not a good idea, regardless how innocent. My nipples were still hard and I suspect he was too. But instead I asked where and I followed him to Denny's. When we got there, instead of him going around a busy corner and parking in their lot, he cut across the movie lot and parked behind Denny's. It was barely lighted, but I followed. He got out and said it was easier to park and go in from there than it was to get onto the other street, and he was right.

After we were in, I started to worry about who might see us there. But, as time went by, I pretty well forgot about it. He's real nice, comes from a family with money, and is anxious to go back home. He's used to sharing everything with his twin brother. As we had our coffee the conversation started getting real personal, with him asking a lot of questions about us.

It didn't take long for it to get down to my sex life with you gone. Or lack of!! I told him I coped and could deal with it. He didn't push it, but his interest in me was obvious. I'd like to tell you I brushed it aside, but I felt the tingling between my legs that was nice but unwanted. I was reassured by the fact that that this was casual and innocent and he was on his way to work. It was almost like high school flirting except we're not in high school.

It was well past eleven when we left. I went to my car and was ready to leave when he tapped on the window over on the passenger's side and got in the car. He said, "I've got something I forgot to show you," and pulled out a stupid little piece of mistletoe.

He reached over, held it over my head, and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I felt it all the way down to my toes, hitting every place in between. I just kind of laughed and said thank you. It was my mistake that I let him linger.