Inevitable Steps Forward

Nora remained silent despite my suggestion and continued to move up and down my shaft at a deliberately gradual pace. I observed her in the momentary quiet, drinking in every part of her: from her ponytailed hair and closed eyes to her stiff nipples and still healthy bush. As always, she looked so sexy in the midst of intercourse. I ran my hands across her thighs and onto her hips, offering them a light squeeze.

Nora pulled her lips into her mouth, giving them a lick and biting the bottom one before opening her eyes. With a gaze drowning in lust and arousal she said, "I've been thinking... what if I came up with a new story to tell you about."

My cock pulsed inside of her cunt. Deep down I knew what she meant, the unsaid implication, but I still asked, "You mean you'd make something up?"

Nora groaned and picked up her pace on my dick. "No."

My head spun, my heart hammered, but my hands guided her up and down faster, our fucking growing heavy and hard.

"I could go out, meet a guy, let him take me back to his place, oh god." Nora's eyes rolled back, and she took a second to catch her breath from my thrusts now meeting hers. "Then come back home and tell you all about it."

My cock was aching from arousal by this point. Nora and I were savagely rutting into each other, and the idea of her encountering a guy at a bar and then an hour later having his dick in her filled my mind. But as hot as I found the fantasy, a part of me worried about how I might take something like that actually happening. In the middle of passionate sex, it sounded hotter than the fires of hell. Outside of that, with my thoughts clear, would I still think the same?

"You'd just go find a guy and let him fuck you?"

Nora shook her head, ponytail swinging frantically. "Not unless he got me really drunk. I'm not that easy." I didn't know if her response delighted or dismayed me. But what she said next hit the sweet spot. "But I would suck his dick until he came in my mouth."

"Oh fuuccckkk!" I pulled Nora down onto me and erupted inside of her. With a few grunts of pleasure, she grinded on my cum-spewing cock until she reached her own peak, her back arching and her walls tightening around me. We finished at the same time, the tension releasing from our frozen bodies, and we collapsed onto each other.

"Holy... fuck..." Nora panted. She turned her wide green eyes up to me from her spot on my chest. The look of wonder within them told me everything I needed to know. I had misunderstood her meaning, but now that I had opened the door, she was poking in her head. "I wasn't being serious but... you really want that?"

Over the next few days, Nora and I had an honest discussion about the possibility of her hooking up with someone else. It might seem like there's little difference between our dirty talk and her doing something like that. But talking about the guys she fucked in the past was one thing. Her fucking someone new was another thing altogether.

Yet it was the obvious next step. The way to continue our perverted bedroom game for longer.

As reluctant as I was, Nora was even more tentative. I wrestled with whether my wife spreading her legs and having her pussy stuffed would devastate me or provide me with the biggest orgasm of my life. She bit her nails at just the thought of going out and picking up a guy. We'd been married for two years; she hadn't been on a date in even longer. She worried she might not have the wherewithal to convince a guy to take her home, much less give him a blowjob. I assured her that she absolutely could, that going out was like riding a bike and that any guy would want to feel her mouth on his cock or her legs around his waist. Plus, neither of us could deny the shiver of anticipation and flash of excitement talking about it brought on.

It also helped that I said all this with her on her back and me lying on my side next to her, my fingers running through the dark forest of hair on her mound to find her hot cunt hidden underneath. As I reassured her of her attractive qualities, proposed a touch of liquid courage, I slipped my fingers in and out of her slick hole and rubbed at her clit until she quivered and shook, eyes closed and body writhing in pleasure.

In the end, Nora agreed to try, thinking that once she got up on the seat, remembering how to peddle would come naturally. We also settled on a handjob, a reasonable first attempt that made her feel comfortable -- and that invoked memories of her first time with curly hair. I had long ago admitted the imagined scene of her jerking him off that kicked everything into gear, so it almost seemed appropriate that a handjob would shift us into the next one.

Kissing my wife goodbye that Saturday evening and watching her walk out the door wearing a sleeveless black dress left me with butterflies in my stomach and a piece of steel in my pants. I refrained from jerking off, though that first hour was nearly torture. I kept thinking about how things were going, speculating on the amount guys flirting with her that she passed on before finding the one that caught her attention, the one who's cock she wanted to wrap her hand around that night.

Finally, shortly after the hour mark I received a text from her. The preplanned message was a picture of Nora and the guy she ended up picking. The selfie showed my wife with a bright but mischievous smile and a guy with dirty blonde hair and semi-large nose. More cute and endearing than unequivocally hot, he fit my wife's type to a T. Her body was turned toward his, a hand on his chest, and their faces close together. My already stiff dick strained even harder against my pants. I responded with our agreed upon heart-eyes emoji to convey my continued consent and removed my cock to slowly slide my hand up and down its length, staring at the picture and imagining my wife doing the same to this dorky guy later.

He had no idea who I was. The cover we came up with was that I was a girlfriend of hers that she had agreed to check in with while out. It allowed us to communicate with each other if needed and to pull the ripcord if either of us decided to back out of the situation. I had let my point of no return pass by. Now it was up to her.

I groaned, gave myself a few more pumps, and stuffed my hard cock away.

Another hour later, her second message came in. "Wosh me luck."

I chuckled. My wife had returned to her old self, having had a few drinks to loosen up a bit. But misspelling aside, the text was clear. This was it. She was going through with our plan. My wife was going to jerk off another guy.

A stream of precum leaked into my underwear from the images and fantasies flooding my mind. I pictured Nora and this guy chatting at the bar, his eyes roaming across her body to take in the pale blonde hair and heart-shaped face, the modest cleavage and exposed legs. I imagined them leaning in close and laughing, body language saying all the things they wanted to do to each other. I had to stop when I thought about them in the back of a car on the way to his place, kissing heavily with tongues wrestling.

Needing to preoccupy myself, I turned on a movie but every now and then I paused to check the time and consider where in the night they might be... while giving myself a few strokes. An hour after her second text, I assumed they might still be at the bar flirting but probably made their way to a booth, sitting close together with his arm behind her shoulders. A half hour after that, they likely kissed already, his mouth on hers and his hand on her bare thigh. By the time the movie ended it was just past eleven and I guessed they'd be arriving at his place, if not there already.

How long it would take? Would she make out with him some more or just unbuckle his belt and snake his cock out seconds after coming through the door?

The next hour seemed to last an eternity as I waited for Nora to return home. We agreed not to text after the "wish me luck" unless it was an emergency. Me messaging her might cause her to second guess everything, and her messaging me in the middle of hooking up might seem strange, to say the least. She would only text again once she was done.

I worried that text would cause me to prematurely explode, the knowledge that she had used the same hand she typed it out with to jerk someone off pushing me over the edge. However, when half past midnight rolled around, and I still hadn't heard from her, my concern shifted focus.

Was she alright? Did something happen? All the other failsafes we could have considered flashed through my mind: her texting me his address, his name, any sort of information that would have allowed me to find her. I downed a glass of whiskey to calm my nerves, and then another to keep them that way. The warm liquor soothed my mind, and I reminded myself of the pepper spray Nora carried in her purse and that any sort of danger would have constituted an emergency. I poured a third drink to sip at and set a deadline. If I didn't hear from her in another hour, I'd call.

Forty minutes later, my wife stumbled through the front door on wobbly legs.

"Hey," I said, crossing the dining room toward her. Nora stalked forward, feet bare and black heels in hand. They clattered to the floor when she arrived in front of me. "You didn't text."

She grabbed the half-finished whiskey from my hand and tilted her head back, swallowing it down in two audible gulps. The empty glass joined her heels, thumping onto the rug. "Sorry. I'm," she gave a lopsided smile, "I'm pretty drunk."

Her eyes could barely focus on me, the pupils as unstable as her balance. The messy blonde hair, coming in with her shoes off like she just returned from a walk of shame, swaying on uneven feet from the alcohol, lord help me, my wife looked so sinfully hot in that moment. The important thing was that she was alright, if very intoxicated, and my worry melted away under my returning erection.

Nora broke the tension first, careening forward to cup my face and press her lips to mine. We kissed noisily and desperately; her taste like pineapple and whiskey. Her hands left my face and worked at the buttons of my shirt while I undid my pants. The second they hit the floor, she abandoned my top to reach down and wrap her fingers around my stiff prick. I moaned, thinking about her having done this to someone else already.

"Tell me what happened."

"I already had a drink by the time I met him," she said and pulled out one of the dining room chairs. I staggered backward onto it and sat down to untangle my shorts from my feet. "I had... another while we talked and flirted. When he suggested a third," I finished unbuttoning my shirt and tossed it and my boxers aside, "I thought I could handle it. Like I used to." Nora pulled her dress over her head, and I stroked myself observing my wife's slim and sexy body. "But by the time we left, I was so drunk and horny that I would have jerked him off in the alley."

I blinked and her bra disappeared, Nora's pale boobs and pink nipples before my eyes. Hooking her thumbs into her panties, she pushed them down her slender legs and my eyes grew wide at the sparse strip of trimmed hair. "You shaved?"

Nora nodded, and I leaned forward, intending to taste her sweet pussy. But she pushed my head back so that I remained upright in the chair. "You told me about that fantasy you had so I wanted to reenact it." She straddled my legs and sank down onto my lap, guiding my cock toward her hole. "Jerk him off while, ooohhhh, while completely naked."

Nora's butt met my thighs, her lower lips wrapped around my shaft.

She took a few breaths, and we enjoyed the sensation of my dick bottomed out inside of her. Then she began bouncing up and down, slow at first and then with ever increasing speed. My mind absorbed the image of my wife on top of me, blonde hair wild and naked body bouncing, while simultaneously picturing the events she described. Of her fully nude and sitting next to this stranger, her hand pumping at his cock.

"Where does his cock rank?"

"Maybe fourth," Nora gasped. "Perfectly average but, mmm, a bit skinny."

"Fuck, this is so hot. Keep going."

"I stripped off my clothes and it felt so strange but exhilarating... being naked in front of him. I started jerking him off." Nora moaned. "I had one hand on his thigh for balance, the other one... around his shaft. He was clearly enjoying it, and..." Nora bounced faster, her soaking wet pussy rapidly sliding across my length. "Oh god. I only planned on jerking him off, like we said. But I was so drunk. God, I was so drunk."

A chill ran up my spine. But a heat flushed down my body, straight to my cock. Time slowed, and I asked myself if I wanted to hear what came next, what I knew my wife might admit to. And my throbbing dick responded with a resounding, "Yes!"

"I was naked next to him, pumping at his cock, and he turned his body toward me, started to get up. I leaned back, against the arm of couch, and then, oh god, and then... his dick... his dick was inside of me. I... I let him fuck me."

There it was. My wife had gone all the way with him. She had fucked another guy. In the silence that stretched between seconds, I saw everything happen. I saw this cute and dorky guy still in his clothes but with this seemingly ordinary girl naked next to him. Her hand was pumping up and down his prick, but his eyes wandered across the alluring features of her face, her small breasts, and then down to the sight between her legs, right to her naked pussy. He could see underneath the freshly shaved bit of pubic hair to her glistening lips, her aroused clit.

Who wouldn't want to fuck her in that moment? She was so hot. Especially when getting fucked.

"Ungh!"

Nora squealed in pleasure as I rammed my hips up to meet hers. The scene in my head continued. He stood up and Nora sat back, green eyes swimming with alcohol and arousal. Her upper back lay against the armrest, and he crawled onto the cushions and between her legs. That pussy that was right beside him now right in front of him, waiting for his cock. He pushed into her, and she moaned in ecstasy.

"He fucked me right there on the couch," Nora said, our savage coupling in danger of knocking over the dining room chair. "He was pumping all the way into me, and I just laid there gasping and panting and moaning... my legs spread and hands gripped onto the backrest and cushion."

My arms were wrapped around Nora's waist and lower back, holding her tight and guiding her harder onto my cock. The enthusiasm of my grunts and thrusts expressed how much I was enjoying everything she was telling me, how much I wanted to keep hearing more.

"He wasn't fast and aggressive or too slow. It wasn't animalistic or loving. It really was, mmph, sex. Just two people... having sex. Right there on the couch." Something about the way she explained and described it drove me insane. The phrasing made it simultaneously less perverse but more erotic, and I found myself inches away from eruption. "We did it for a while. He had pretty good stamina but eventually, nnghh, eventually he came. But not before I did."

Cum rocketed out of my dick, Nora's pussy still pistoning on top of me. The image of her on some stranger's couch, his dick inside of her, as she hung her head back, closed her eyes, and exhaled in pleasure while climaxing pushed me over my limit.

Ropes of sticky seed flooded my wife's tunnel and splattered its walls. My mind emptied itself of any questions of what came next, how I might have really felt deep down inside, and instead focused on the intense pleasure and orgasmic release it all brought on. As the last of my jizz split out of me, Nora crashed down one last time and collapsed onto my chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered a few minutes later, her body still draped onto mine and her face buried into the crook of my neck.

I waited for regret to wash over me, for the tidal wave of betrayal and heartbreak that would come in my post-orgasmic clarity. Nora had cheated. She had sex with another man. I braced for the devastation. The sense of loss over our relationship and marriage. But it never arrived. Not even a drop of it. Instead of inciting disgust or anger, thinking about what she did brought on another dose of depraved arousal and sent a shiver of delight back to my deflating dick. I wasn't upset. I wasn't regretful. The love and lust I held for my wife remained strong.

I gently took her by the arms and lifted her off my chest so we could see each other face-to-face. "It's okay. You have nothing to apologize for. This was inevitably going to happen." She lowered her eyes, but I placed a palm on her cheek and drew them back to mine. "And I'm glad it already did. It makes things easier for next time." My thumb stroked across her chin and her lips. "I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. Even you getting drunk and taking another guy's dick in you."

Nora smiled, whispered a "thank you," and leaned forward.

My cock re-hardened inside of her while we kissed, thickening and lengthening and making her moan and grind against me. Our passions reignited, the momentarily dwindling flames burst into an eternal inferno. Gripping onto her butt, I stood from the chair and carried my wife into the living room, heading right for the couch.