Learning to Sin

"I love a sexy, naughty wife," I whispered into her ear when the kissing ended.

"Do you think I'm naughty?" she asked, in a playful way, and a second later she followed with, "Why?"

"You let him put marks on you," I told her.

Trish was always adamant about love bites, so it surprised me she had allowed Winston the opportunity.

"I didn't even notice," she lied.

"Let me see them," I demanded, and started pushing her top up.

She raised her arms so I could take her shirt off and inspecting her chest, I could see that there were two marks on her left breast and one on the right along with the hickey on her neck. On her left breast, both marks were close to her small nipple but on the right, it was on the underside.

"Can I make some?" I asked.

"No, only black men can do it," she giggled, and I don't think she realized it but my dick jumped in my pants.

"There you are being naughty again," I said, in an encouraging way.

"Have you talked to him?" Trish asked.

"No. He sent some texts though," I told her.

"I want to see them," she said eagerly.

I crawled from behind her and went to get my phone and once I picked it up I saw that there were now two additional texts from Winston. One asked if everything was okay while the other wanted to know about our plans for the evening. Walking back to my wife, I handed her the phone and she immediately began scrolling through the messages.

"You didn't answer?" she asked.

"No, not yet," I said.

When I saw her fingers start to move, I knew she was banging out a message. I sat back on the couch and pulled her toward me until she had cuddled up alongside me with her feet beneath her, and I toyed with her nipples some but not enough that it distracted her from the texting.

"What did you say?" I asked when she finally stopped hitting the keys.

"I told him we were fine, watching TV, and asked what he was doing," she replied.

"Did you see where he said you were beautiful?" I asked, hoping to see a response.

I wasn't disappointed as a smile came to her face that she quickly tried to hide, and in a faux indifferent voice, she answered, "Yes, I saw it."

"Well, how..." I started when a beep announcing a new text interrupted me.

Trish immediately looked at the message and then made a quick reply.

"What did it say?" I asked since she offered no information.

When she handed me the phone, I saw the black man had asked who was texting and she acknowledged it was her.

I set the phone on the table and pulled my wife's face to mine, embracing her in a deep kiss that she returned passionately. My mind was racing with thoughts about the previous night and the day's events where her earlier anger had somehow morphed into flirtation. I was happy to be off the hook, at least for the time being but was surprised at how easily she had engaged with Winston even if was just texting.

As I caressed her breasts, I could feel her getting aroused and soon she was pushing her chest against my hand. We had been locked together for several minutes when in quick succession, the phone announced that three messages had arrived. We stopped, and as I reached for the phone, I could see in my wife's eyes a desire to snatch it from me and find out what he had sent. Instead, to tease her some and because of my genuine interest in seeing what he would say, I read them first. It was one long message that the system broke down into three segments and read:

Hello, Trish. Really enjoyed being together with you. What an incredible night. You are an incredible and beautiful woman although I knew that from the first time we met. Will never forget the feeling of you in my arms and your heartbeat against my chest. I hope you are not mad at me or Pat and can appreciate what happened. We need to go dancing again.

The message was both sensitive and seductive and I was impressed that Winston had the maturity to communicate this way. When I finished, I handed Trish the phone which she practically snatched from me, and instantly began reading. Like before, I could see her fight to keep from smiling as she scanned down the message.

"I think he's in love with you," I whispered into her ear, then kissed it when her hand dropped to her lap.

"This is just bizarre...it's insane," my wife said with a deep sigh with her eyes closed and her head drifting backward in response to my lips.

"Yes, it's wild," I replied in a soft voice.

I could see her looking at the phone and in a moment of inspiration, I grabbed the wine glasses and headed to the kitchen for refills. I thought that she might feel more comfortable responding if she had some space and I wasn't disappointed when several minutes later I peeked into the room and saw her rapidly pressing keys.

I had been honest with Trish when I said that Winston wasn't threatening and seeing my wife being sexy and naughty had proved to be a huge turn-on. I wasn't sure where it was all heading but I was certain that as soon as the kids returned from their vacation that she would go into strict mommy mode and all play would cease. This fact provided me with a safe boundary, but also emphasized the near term.

"Did you answer?" I asked as soon as I returned to the couch.

With a look that was equal parts impishness and embarrassment, she handed me the phone so I could read her reply.

Winston, thank you for the lovely message. It was a night of firsts but certainly memorable. I would love to go dancing with you again sometime.

It was simple and seemingly sincere but was also vague enough that it was open to interpretation. My wife is a very smart woman and I instinctively felt that she knew this when she decided how to reply. It begged for a response from Winston, so I wasn't surprised to hear his next text arrive.

Going to the club. Meet me.

Trish read the text and then handed the phone to me without speaking. It was a simple and direct message but my instincts told me that she would turn down the invitation as she was still struggling with the reality of last night's encounter. Indeed, I too had misgivings but at the same time, I found the current exchange with the black man very erotic and it seemed that with each text, I inched a little closer to the edge.

"What do you think?" I asked probing for her thoughts.

"It's too late and I'm tired," she responded as I anticipated, although her excuse avoided the sexual issue.

I wasn't going to fight her position and it was likely too soon but I did wonder when or if we would get another opportunity without the kids.

"Let him know then," I suggested.

Trish quickly typed out her response and when finished, she showed me the screen.

Thanks for the invite but we are too tired.

Amazingly, within seconds, his reply arrived almost like he had anticipated what she would say. Trish took her time looking at the message but eventually let me look.

Really would love to see you tonight. You are such a beautiful woman and an amazing dancer. I just feel so proud when we are dancing. Not something that I will forget and it's also something I want more of. Understand what you're saying but still want you to come out. Let's do some dancing!

Reading it, several things popped into my head. First, he was going for broke and he wanted her tonight. I didn't know whether it was because he realized that when our kids returned his chances would be over or if it was simply because he was horny, but his desire was evident. Second, I knew his use of the word dancing in this message had nothing to do with country music. He was asking my wife to fuck.

"You want to go out for a little while?" I asked giving her the opening to take it wherever she wanted.

"Do you want to?" she answered, and in her eyes, I could tell she wanted to but wanted me to make the decision.

"It's up to you," I replied, as I wanted to see if she would take the step across the sexual boundary on her own.

"You want to go just for a little while?" she asked.

There was the answer and it was crystal clear. My beautiful, conservative, church-going, mother of two children wife had become the lover of a young black man and now wanted him again.

"Sure, we can go for a bit," I answered.

Trish immediately looked at the phone and I swear her nipples stiffened and her chest and neck flushed. Quickly, she sent a message telling him we would be there in an hour which brought an almost instantaneous acknowledgment back.

She gave me an awkward look that only ended when I stood, pulled her to me, kissed her, and then playfully smacked her on the butt and pointed her toward the bedroom to get ready. I was ready in ten minutes, but it took Trish almost forty before she appeared dressed in jeans, a simple white pullover blouse, and short heels. I was disappointed to see her clothed so conservatively and it made me wonder whether it was a defensive measure or a facade.

Arriving late on a Saturday night, we struggled to find a parking spot but finally located one in the far back corner of the lot where the pavement ended. Once inside, we walked purposefully toward the area we had frequented during our previous visits and were pleased to see Winston at a table with two empty chairs.

"Sorry, we're late. Someone needed time to get ready," I said with a laugh, hoping to set the mood.

"No worries. Well worth the wait," the black man responded, then opened his arms and hugged my wife.

I flagged a waitress and gave her our order and turned back just in time to see Winston leading Trish toward the dance floor. Winston took her firmly in his arms, bringing her tightly against him, as soon as they arrived, and this time, there was no respectful distance, as their bodies seemed melded together. The songs rolled by as they stayed out, and it wasn't until the band took a break that they finally headed back. As they approached, I noticed a look in my wife's eyes that told me she was already aroused. That's when the reality fully hit that we were there only for appearances, as a prelude to the real purpose of the night.

Throughout the break, we chatted with only occasional moments of awkwardness, and I was happy to see that our black friend had returned to his good manners. If anything, he was doting on my wife, which brought more than one smile to her face.

When the band returned, Trish immediately pulled me out and made me stay, despite my effort to beg off after the first song.

"How long do you want to stay?" I asked while we were waltzing.

"For a while," she answered vaguely.

"Do you want to invite him over?" I pushed.

She gave me an odd look, and then replied, "Not tonight. Just dancing."

I thought her statement was strange as I was certain when she was texting and discussing a meeting that the sole purpose was another hook-up with the black man. Nevertheless, I merely nodded and dropped the subject.

She let me stop at the three songs, and we returned to find Winston talking with an attractive older woman. As we drew closer, I sensed that he was trying to end the conversation and when we arrived at the table an irritated look passed between Trish and the woman. However, before we could be introduced, she turned and walked briskly away.

"One of your girls?" my wife asked pointedly.

"Just a friend," the black man answered, clearly wanting to change the subject.

I fought back a smile at the possessive attitude Trish was taking toward her lover. She stewed for about a minute before she took him by the arm, and once again they were going to the dance floor. This time, after the second song, I lost sight of the couple, and in the thinning crowd, it should not have been difficult to spot them. I thought about where they might have gone and finally concluded that they were in a quiet spot in the club having a conversation about last night. Deciding to stay put, I waited through five songs before I spotted them dancing again. After just a single song, they started back to our table, and when they arrived, Winston excused himself to go to the restroom.

"He wants to know if we want to go to his place," my wife said.

"Do you want to?" I asked.

"Only if you do," she replied.

I knew it was her ploy to make it a shared decision, but I wasn't interested in games at this point, so I said, "Sure, let's go."

"Okay," she responded, although the look she gave me made me think she expected or maybe wanted more discussion.

"What do you think?" Winston asked with an eager expression when he returned.

Trish looked at me quickly, and then replied, "We'll come over for a little while."

"Excellent," he replied, and after calling the waitress over and closing out, we headed outside.

It hadn't been that long since my wife declared that it was a dancing-only night which made me wonder if she had used it to keep her pride intact, or if the black man had somehow changed her mind. Regardless, I now drove toward his place and in my mind, it was a foregone conclusion that Trish would soon have his cock in her, again.

"Do you mind if I ride with Winston?" my wife whispered when we were in the lot.

"Uhhh...no, I guess not," I said when I saw the pleading look on her face.

He had reminded me of the address to his house inside the club, and I had already programmed it into my phone. But, as we split with just a few quick words, I began to understand that a plan had been made between them, and I wondered what else was in store.

I looked for his pickup briefly on my way out of the lot, but couldn't spot it. Thus, I began to follow the voice on my phone giving out directions. In front of the house, a utility truck sat parked at the curb and I pulled in front of it, turned off the engine, and waited for them to arrive, hoping I wouldn't draw attention. Twenty minutes went by, and I was just about to call Trish when I saw lights approaching. Winston's vehicle swung swiftly into the driveway and I had almost reached it when the lights suddenly illuminated and I heard the doors opening. As soon as I made eye contact with my wife, I knew something was amiss.

"I think I'm getting cold feet," she said, showing a nervous look.

"Okay..." I started, then stopped to think for a moment before continuing, "Do you want to go home?"

"I think maybe...I mean...is it okay?" she asked just as the black man arrived beside her.

"Trish is getting a little nervous," he tossed out, trying to treat it lightheartedly.

I could see in Winston's eyes a deep desire while Trish's showed nervousness. On the drive over, I had thought about the situation, how bizarre it was, but also how incredibly hot it had been to see my pretty wife completely let go sexually. I wanted to witness it again, although now it seemed to be in jeopardy. Part of me wanted to prod her inside and attempt another seduction but another part of me was sensitive to her body language and her need for support.

"We can go, there will always be another time," I said even though I knew it was very doubtful.

"Maybe...I think it's the best thing," my wife replied as a look of relief washed across her face.

Winston showed clear disappointment but I was happy to see him take it gracefully when he said, "I understand. Like he said, some other time."

Trish turned to him with a smile and moved to give him a kiss that I thought was meant as a quick goodbye. However, he pulled her into his arms, squeezed her tightly, and pressed his lips hard against hers. For a second, she was still, like she had been surprised, but then she started to respond with her arms wrapping around his neck and soft sighs emerging from their connection. Winston's large hand found her jean-covered rear and pulled her even more tightly against his body, and I knew he was making a last-ditch effort to change her mind. By the look of things, I thought he might just be successful.

"Winston...I...I'm sorry..." she gasped when the kiss ended.

"No worries, baby...next time," he whispered seductively into her ear.

Despite his impressive effort, she still wanted to leave, so I took her hand and walked her to the car. We drove in silence at first and it wasn't until we had left the neighborhood and were on a well-lit main road that she spoke.

"Are you mad?" she asked.

"Mad? No, of course not," I answered.

In truth, I was disappointed but had enough sense to keep it hidden as logic told me to try and keep everything about my wife's play positive.

"I was ready at the club, but on the drive over...I don't know...I just started to feel funny," she explained.

"Honey, it's fine and if something doesn't feel right...well you know...you did the right thing," I replied which brought forth a big smile.

"I guess you're stuck with me," she said with a smirk.

"I think you're stuck with me," I laughed.

The short exchange took all the tension away, and we drove the rest of the way in a good mood. As soon as we were through the door, I pulled her to me and backed her against the wall.

"You better be ready," I whispered to her.

"For what?" she teased.

"To make love all night long," I declared.

"Mmmm...can you last that long," she giggled.

I started on her clothes and she remained still until she was completely naked. Then, I dropped to my knees, lifted a leg over my shoulder, and found her slit with my mouth. She was drenched, and like always she tasted wonderful. I feasted on her, hearing more and more sensual sounds before she started to pull on my shoulders.

"Take me to bed," she moaned.

"Later..." I replied, wanting to be in control.

"Honey...now...please..." she whined loudly.

Her words were so needy and urgent that I did what she asked and pulled her by the hand to our bedroom. There, she climbed onto the bed and watched while I tore my clothes off.

"No...I'm ready," she announced when I moved to lick her some more.

I was over and inside her in seconds, feeling a much greater warmth than normal, and instantly my thoughts went to the evening and Winston. I suspected that the creation of her sexual heat had occurred from the anticipation of her mating with the black man and now I had the good fortune of reaping the reward.

She reached the point where I knew she was on the verge of orgasm much quicker than normal. It took only a few minutes, but all the signs were there, and I was proved right when very quickly her cries began and her body began to spasm beneath me. I was still well in control, and it was a magical feeling to experience her sexually in such a state. When I felt her release had ebbed, I slowed so she could regain her breathing but never stopped.

"Did that feel good?" I whispered.

"Mmmm...hmmm..." she sighed, as a sensual smile came to her face.

"You're so damn beautiful," I said, as I looked down at her.

She smiled up at me and put her hand behind my head, then said, "Thanks for understanding."

"Oh, Trish. That was easy," I replied, then continued with, "What made you change your mind?"

"I...I...guess I just started feeling bad...you know...like I was being dirty," she said.

"Okay," I answered, as thoughts churned in my head.

"Just okay? That's it?" she replied.

"Well, I'm not sure what to say. I don't think that's true at all, but I don't want you upset over it either," I told her.

"So, you're okay with it. You think I should...be with him again," she probed.

"I told you... I like you naughty, and he isn't a threat to us," I answered.

"God, Pat... I'll be a slut," she whined.

"A beautiful one, though," I laughed, which brought a jab to my ribs.

Silence followed, and for the next few minutes I concentrated on making love to my wife, but a thought came to me and I asked, "What took y'all so long to get to the house?"

"We stopped to talk," she replied.

"About?" I followed.

"About not staying," she said.