tagLoving WivesJune Cleaver?

June Cleaver?


June Cleaver?

My story starts off in much the same way as many, I suppose. A friend called me at work one afternoon to ask if we could meet for coffee. There was something he needed to talk to me about. Paul Jameson and I had been friends from high school. Although we weren't best buddies, we always got along well, and had socialized a lot over the years. He always had a kind word, regardless of the situation. If he wanted to get together, I'd be there.

"Sure. When and where?" I told him.

We met the next morning at a little restaurant down the street from my office. After a bit of chit chat, he came out with it.

"The reason I wanted to talk to you is that I'm pretty sure Stacey is fooling around on you." That caught my attention. Stacey and I had been married for eight years and a bit, and as far as I knew, we were doing great.

"I was at a meeting at the Hilton two days ago. The meeting ran fairly late, so my boss decided to spring for dinner for he and I and our client. As I walked through the restaurant, I spotted Stacey and a guy in a booth,and they were acting very friendly. Inappropriately so. If you two have recently decided on going the open marriage route, you can tell me to bugger off and mind my own business, but..." He paused and waited for a response that wasn't forthcoming. "Anyway, I though about it and decided that, as a friend, I should tell you. I'd want you to do the same for me. I'm sorry, man..."

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I thanked Paul, and walked back toward my office in a daze. I didn't accomplish much the rest of the day, but rather sat and thought about how and why she might do this to us, and more importantly, what I was going to do about it.

I tried to recall if there had been any signs that something was amiss. The frequency of lovemaking in our marriage had dropped somewhat over the years, but thinking about it, I couldn't say that there had been any recent changes in the way she acted towards me. Was this something that had begun very recently? Could it have been something completely harmless, something she might have an explanation for? I hoped to find out soon.

You sometimes hear of a couple who have fallen into a situation like this, and one spouse goes to great lengths to document the other's infidelity. Private investigators, electronic surveillance, and the like, but I knew right off the hop that I wouldn't need to do any of that. I was going to confront Stacey that evening. Stacey could never lie if asked directly. It just wasn't in her nature. Then I thought, she's had to have lied to me at some point for this to have happened. It may be that she hadn't lied, but had simply omitted to tell me things. That I wouldn't put past her.

The one thing I was really concerned about, if our marriage fell apart, was the issue of custody of our daughter, Reilly. She was my special sweetheart, my pride and joy. She was only three, but she was a smart and pretty girl already. What would happen to her?

I arrived home at six as usual. Stacey picked Reilly up at daycare at six, and was usually home shortly afterwards, unless she had a client to see in the evening. Being in real estate required that my wife work evenings quite often. I wondered if the 'date' that Paul had witnessed was originally set up as a work evening, or had I been duped in some other way. I couldn't remember which nights she'd worked, it happened so often.

I started supper, and a few minutes later Stacey and Reilly arrived. Stacey greeted me with her usual smile and a tender kiss, while Reilly wrapped her arms around my legs and begged me to pick her up and spin her around the room, as I did every evening. Stacey helped with supper and we ate quietly, except for Reilly's chatter. Once our little girl was put down for the night, I asked Stacey to join me at the kitchen table.

"I saw Paul this morning for coffee. He called me because of something he'd seen a few nights ago at the Hilton."

Stacey's expression changed to one of concern.

"He said that he saw you in a restaurant booth with a man, and that you and he were making out. What's going on?"

"I...I... He was just someone I know..."

"Come on, Stacey. You can do better than that. What's his name?"

"Serge. Serge Drabinski. He works for the company that manages our signs."

"Did you fuck him the other night?"

"Jesus, Matthew! What kind of question is that?"

"One that I want a truthful answer to."

"Oh, God! I knew that this would happen." she paused and looked at me as if searching my face for a sign as to how I'd react. "Yes, I fucked him."

"You bitch!" I snarled. "How long has this been going on?"

She closed her eyes, and tears ran down her cheeks. "With him, about a month..."

What do you mean, with him? God! Are you fucking someone besides him?"

She simply nodded and stared at the floor.


I was completely taken aback. I didn't know what to think. Here's my wife, who, until that morning, had been, in my mind at least, loving and faithful.

"Stacey, tell me, who else? How many men are involved?"

"I don't know." she whispered.

"What the...? You don't know? How could you not know?"

She took a deep breath, "Matthew, I have something to tell you." she paused, "and it's not good."

What came out of Stacey's mouth over the next half hour left me completely and utterly overwhelmed.

It had started in her teens. After a date with a guy who had persuaded her to give him a blow job, she began her life as a slut. That first mouthful of semen had triggered something in her that was still going on to today. At first she indiscriminately sucked every cock she could, and after once again being persuaded, she began fucking them as well. She was the round heeled girl of her neighborhood and her school. Once she started university, she smartened up and became more selective, but was never without at least two boyfriends, who never knew about each other. I had been one of those boyfriends.

When we hooked up again a couple of years later, and began to get serious, she made the decision to stop fucking other men. We were in love and she wanted to be faithful. Six months later, we were married, and things were going well. We were both working at jobs we enjoyed, and were making decent money for young university grads. About eighteen months after our wedding, Stacey had a call from one of her old boyfriends. The reason for the call was completely innocent. He was returning to live here, and wanted to buy a starter home for he and his new bride. He didn't even realize who he was talking to a first. It was when they were out looking at homes, together and alone, that it hit her. She had enjoyed his cock back then at school and needed to fuck him , and she did that on the new broadloom in the middle of an otherwise empty dining room.

That was the turning point. Afterwards, she found herself excited by the thrill of extramarital sex, and found men to feed her addiction easily. The only break came when she was at home for six months following Reilly's birth. Once back at work it started again.

"Well, I've heard enough." I muttered, and stood. I went downstairs and dragged a suitcase out of the storage room and brought it up through the kitchen.

"What are you doing, Matthew?" She gasped. "You can't leave me. I love you!"

"You've chosen a strange way to show it, Stacey. How the fuck can you say you love me when you've fucked half the men in town. How many of our friends have dumped their come in your cheating cunt? How many of my co-workers have cuckolded me? I'm outta here."

"But it was just sex with them, I never loved any of them. I only love you."

"Only sex? This may come as a surprise to you, but to me, physical intimacy between between and you and I is a huge part of the bond that holds us together. Apparently you don't feel that bond to me. I certainly thought that making love to you was an essential part of our life. I guess it just wasn't as important to you. Now get the fuck out of my way!"

The next day, I found a small furnished apartment, and while Stacey was at work, went back to the house and took the things I wanted.

In the days that followed, she called me at work, over and over again, but all she wanted to do was beg me, crying, to come home. I finally arranged to have our home number and her office and cell numbers blocked.

A week later, Glenda, Stacey's mom, called me, and asked me to come over for dinner on the following Friday evening.

"If Stacey's there, I won't be staying, Mom." Glenda assured me that it was not an occasion to try and convince me to get back together with Stacey. She just wanted to talk with me.

June Cleaver wanted to talk. I laughed, as I had a hundred times before when I thought of Glenda. She looked, with the exception of a current hairstyle, just like the Beaver's mom had, way back when. I wasn't old enough to remember the original program, but I'd seen enough re-runs to know that my tall, slim, and blonde mother-in-law was as much an elegant knock-out as the Beav's mom had been back in the late fifties. I wasn't the first one to make the connection, but I was the only one who regularly called her June. She pretended to be annoyed when I did, but I could tell she liked the attention I'd given her, ever since Stacey had taken me home to meet her.

When I arrived at Glenda's, she greeted me with a kiss as always. She got me a beer and we sat down, waiting for the chicken she was cooking to be done. I'd expected her boyfriend, Felix, to be there, but apparently he had a meeting to attend, and would be back later. Her husband, Gerald, Stacey's dad, had been out or the picture since Stacey was thirteen. They never talked much about him, and it didn't seem to be appropriate to pry.

We had a nice meal, as always. Stacey was a terrific cook, and she'd learned it all from her Mom. There was no discussion of the state of our marriage during dinner, but afterwards, we sat down on the couch.

"I know this is a difficult time right now, Matthew. I'm as much at fault for what's happened, and after I tell you about it, I hope your feelings toward Stacey will soften a bit."

"Your fault? I'm fairly certain that you didn't suggest to her that she take on half the guys in town. How can you possibly think it's your fault?"

"It's simply a case of like mother, like daughter."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Glenda. I'm not getting this. Are you trying to say that she's cheated on me because you...?

"Exactly. She's a slut because I'm a slut."


There's a lot that you don't know about June Cleaver, Matthew. You do know that I was very young when I had Stacey, after Gerald knocked me up. My parents were only too happy to marry me off when he offered, but I was way too young to become a parent. We did OK, and managed to have a real family life, more by luck than anything. Gerald was a kind and loving husband and father, except when he drank. He was a nasty drunk, but, thank God, he never drank that often. He was also a lousy lover. He just didn't have any idea at all about how to please a woman. He didn't even know he should try. I was pretty clued out, too, until one night at a party. Gerald was drunk and slapped me, and shortly afterwards, passed out. I was so pissed off at him that it was easy for one of our friends seduce me. I learned a lot about sex that night, learned how amazing it could be. Sex with Gerald was never the same. Oh, I tried to get Gerald to change, to do some of the things I experienced that night, but he just wasn't inclined to try. Since Gerald wasn't able to give me anything close to the great sex I'd experienced, I started looking elsewhere, and found that there were lots of men who were willing and quite capable.

I carried on my clandestine affairs, like Stacey, for several years before Gerald found out. We fought about it, and that's where Stacey picked up on it, I'm sure. Neither Gerald nor I wanted to split up, but neither did he want to share me. It was pretty much a standoff. I'd go out and spend the evening with one of my boyfriends, and then come home late, and we'd yell and scream at each other. I don't think he ever really understood what he could do to fix it. If he at least put some effort into being an attentive lover, we could have made a go of it. For a smart man, he was rather thick at times, and I didn't help by being so damned stubborn.

He could only stand my cheating for so long, and in the end, packed his stuff and left. Stacey was off at university at the time, and I never did sit down with her and talk about her feelings. I guess I should have. It wasn't until some time later that I found out that she'd been out slutting around for the couple of years prior.

Now you see why I blame myself for the situation you two are in. If I'd stayed home, frustrated, or at least had been more discreet, she might not have turned out the way she did."

I shook my head, amazed at what Glenda had just told me. My image of a desirable but chaste June Cleaver was smashed like a bowl of eggs, and Stacey... well, I didn't know what to think. Glenda's story may have offered some insight as to why Stacey cheated, but it didn't change my feelings about her. I told Glenda that.

She just shrugged. "Maybe, after some time passes..." She paused and looked at me with a crooked smile. "But right now, you're a single man. Would it be inappropriate to ask if you'd fuck me? I won't tell Wally or Beaver..."

I had to reel my tongue up off the floor. "Come on now. I've seen the way you look at me."

She was right. Although I'd never consciously said to myself 'I'd like to fuck my mother-in-law,' she was a very attractive woman, and I always ogled attractive women.

She wrapped herself around me for a passionate kiss, at the end of which, Mr. Happy was straining to bust out of my pants. She promptly unzipped me and without so much as a how-do-you-do, swallowed me whole.

When she came up for air, she kissed me again, and said. "Let's get the first one out of the way. The rest of the evening will be way more fun that way."

As she dove back down into my lap, I stuttered, "What about Felix?"

"I guess he's going to get sloppy seconds tonight. Don't worry, Matthew. Felix knows that I'm still a slut. He knows that I love him, and that if he asked me to stop screwing around, I would. But he won't ask me that. He wants me to have my fun. Somehow it works for us."

I put that thought out of my mind as June Cleaver resumed her quest for my come. The woman certainly knew how to suck a cock. Even her daughter, who was an eager fellatrix, wasn't the in the same league. I blew my load in her mouth in record time.

"Mmmm. You taste good." She looked up at me. "Do you like to eat pussy?"

"Sure do," I replied with a grin. Right after fucking, licking a hot, juicy cunt was my favorite sexual pastime.

"Good. While you're recuperating, I've got one here that needs to be eaten." She patted her crotch.

We stripped off our clothes as we dashed to the bedroom, and once she was naked, June Cleaver lay back and spread her legs to invite me to feast on her dripping snatch.

"I've always wondered if Eddie Haskell ever got to fuck June? He was such a sleazy bastard."

"Probably. Now shut up and make me come."

I did as she asked, although I drew it out as long as could, teasing her clit with the tip of my tongue, until she lost patience with me and grabbed me by the hair and humped my face until she came with a groan.

"Gettin' a little pushy there, weren't you, June?" I grinned at her.

"Hey, if you weren't such a tease, I wouldn't have been so bossy."

I flopped down on the bed beside her and kissed her, giving her an opportunity to taste herself on my lips. I felt her hand on my cock. "You ready to fuck me yet, Matthew? Do you want to fuck June Cleaver? God! I need it."

She rolled over and knelt between my knees. "I'm just gonna suck it a bit. Don't think you're going to come in my mouth again. I want you to come in my slutty cunt."

I rose to full hardness almost as soon as her lips touched me, and she rolled onto her back and spread her legs. "Fuck me, baby." she whispered.

June Cleaver gave me the ride of my life. I pounded the shit out her steaming pussy, and she gave it back to me in spades. I had no idea how long we fucked, but it was certainly no quickie. Glenda had at least a dozen orgasms, and in the end, we both came so hard that she passed out for a moment, and I was sure I was about to have a heart attack. We were just getting our breathing under control when there was a round of applause from the bedroom doorway.

"Bravo! That really was a magnificent performance. I can't say that I've ever witnessed such a vigourous fuck before."

It was Felix. I felt self-conscious, but he obviously didn't and stepped up to the side of the bed. Glenda reached out and pulled him to her and gave him a long, hot kiss.

"So, I guess you got a bit of a history lesson tonight, eh, Matthew. Surprised that your old mother-in-law is such a tramp?"

"It was an eye opener, let me tell you."

"Has it made you think any differently about Stacey?"

"Felix! Now's not the time for that. I asked you not to say anything." she looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry Matthew. This evening wasn't intended to convince you to take Stacey back. Felix thinks you should, because he enjoys his women as sluts, but I think he'd be the first to tell you it's not for everyone. You'll have to do what's right for you."

A short while later, June Cleaver accompanied me to the door dressed only in one of Felix's dress shirts and gave me a lingering kiss before bidding me good-bye.

"I'd like to do this again, Matthew."

In the end, I took Stacey back. Not because I developed any desire to live with a slut wife, but simply because I was miserable without her and Reilly. As much as her cheating had hurt and angered me, I still loved her, and she loved me.

She promised to stay true to me, but I told her that I didn't expect her to keep that oath in the longer term. She had been what she was for too long, and I told her so. "Don't make any promises you can't keep."

"You're right. It would happen one day, and then we'd be back in the same situation we're in now."

Rather than ignore the issue, we sat down and discussed it rationally and came up with a plan. She would limit the number of "friends" she had to two at any given time. She'd be discreet and wouldn't include any friends, friends of friends, or co-workers in her extramarital activities. I was adamant that none of her activities would interfere with our home life, and that she would never refuse me sex because she'd seen one of her paramours on a particular evening. I wasn't interested in sloppy seconds, or a dose of the clap, so she had to be sure to use condoms – no exceptions.

I made her give me a list of all the men I was acquainted with who she could remember fucking since we were married, and I told her I was going to talk to all of them and tell them that she was off limits to them – no repeat performances. I also told her that if the opportunity arose for me to fuck the wives of any of the men she'd been with, I would, and she would have nothing to bitch about. That one upset her. She got all weepy and said that she'd be brokenhearted if it happened.

"Welcome to my world." I told her.

With her list of past lovers in hand, I started "bumping" into them, one at a time. Some of them were guys I had considered to be good friends, and of those, some were no longer going to be friends, depending on how they reacted to the conversation we were going to have.

My very first call was to Kevin, who I considered to be my best friend. Stacey thought she'd fucked him twenty-five or thirty times, mostly early on in our marriage, but she had also seen him recently, about a month before her game fell apart.

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