Me, My Slutwife & Rick Ch. 04

Rick's dark eyebrows scowled, and his deep-set brown eyes read her emotions, not to his liking. "No, baby, there's--" He caught himself, then lowered his voice to a more friendly tone. "Look, yeah, I've played around in the past -- but, I want you with me, every day, every night -- and," he added with a smug wink, "I know it's what you want -- it's what your body and heart want, I can tell, don't deny it!"

Images were filling Kitty's pretty, intelligent head. He offered the obvious amenities of a good life. He had lots of money, more than she had in her current marriage. Going on all of his business trips with him -- flying first class, eating at top restaurants, sleeping in five-star hotels. She also knew she reacted to him like no one else. The thought made her heart throb. Waking up everyday next to Rick's fabulous body; fucking his incredible dick; seeing his eyes and knowing he was looking only at her, no one else, was she really that beautiful and sexy to get a man like him?

"Rick," my wife moaned, her voice dropping almost to an inaudible level at first. "You're sweet, but you have kids -- you really wanna put them through all that?" She was, undoubtedly, thinking of me and my situation. Kitty had to see it all the time, she knew what hell I was going through emotionally, and I'm sure she wanted to spare Rick all of that. "You know, I've never, ever asked you to leave your wife and family for me."

He shrugged. "I know." He was not liking how the conversation was going. "So, it's not just for you -- I mean, I have to do it, for me -- but, there's no reason for you and me to wait." Arching his back forward, about to crawl to her across the bed, his voice turned hopeful. "Don't you want that, Kitty?" He saw a glimmer of a smile in her eye, and he added some further incentive. "I mean, we have lots of fun -- like with Hana, we can do that stuff all the time, if you want -- I know you liked it -- you're a little bisexual slut, aren't you, you'll have way, way better sex with me every day, then you have here!"

Although he didn't know the full truth of her sex life -- not nearly even a piece of it, really -- Kitty didn't dismiss his words as empty rhetoric. He was right, in a way. Sex with him was amazing, beyond anything anyone else could give her. And it wasn't like she had to give up her entire sex life for him.

The way he was looking at her, she felt a moment of truth was here -- but she didn't know what the truth was. She'd turned down men in the past who wanted her to leave me, but this time, those words weren't coming out of her mouth. She was stuck on this image of Rick being hers fulltime, no one else in his life. It felt amazingly wonderful; he was an incredibly fabulous man.

"So," my wife thought aloud, probing the terms of the arrangement he had in mind, "you, and me -- and, what, sometimes we get to fuck other women?" She laughed, trying to make it sound like anything else other than a negotiation. Maybe, indeed, she could still have her current life. "And, do I get to bring another guy home, or something like that, so I get some of that too?"

But, no, immediately she found out Rick wasn't interested in her slutting around. Her boyfriend's face frowned in dismay upon hearing her request, almost incredulous she'd ask. "You -- what? No, baby -- I mean, I thought you love me -- right? What, I'm not enough for you -- you still would want other men?"

The steeled look in his eyes told her, immediately, not to go there.

"No," my slutty wife backed off quickly, giving him a loving, pouty look, "I just mean -- I'm not sure what you see for us, that's all."

The rich, married male had no problem answering that question. "What you and I have every time we're together -- total happiness, just like blind, sheer joy. I feel so good around you, like no one else, you make me feel soo loved, Kitty -- and I want to show that to you, too." He continued to crawl forward on the bed more, almost touching his face to hers. "I'm moving into the place in four days," he repeated, "I want to send the moving truck to your house on Monday -- like, noontime -- to pack you up, so you can be with me that very first night."

Rick kissed her waiting lips, and she kissed back.

"I love you," he told her, staring into her eyes two inches away, "come with me, be with me -- because I know you love me to."

She did.

"I do," Kitty moaned, behind honest, but not even sure herself what all that meant.

* * * *

Ugh! Why was Rick doing this?

She was mad, almost furious, that he was upsetting her life this way. Everything had been great -- the married boyfriends, the constant sex with hot men she loved, and a husband who loved her intensely and allowed her to be with anyone she wanted, at any time. Now Rick comes along, leaves his family for her -- as if that's not pressure enough -- and she has to leave everything behind, to be with him, full-time?

Yet, there was the other side of her.

Rick made her feel wonderful. Being with him, she felt better about herself than any one man could make her feel. He had selected her, of the whole planet, to be with; he was so good-looking, so well-built, so successful that he probably could have chosen from thousands of women. But no, he wanted Kitty, not anyone else. Me, her husband, I was lucky to be with her; if I didn't let her fuck other men, I doubt we'd have spent one night together. Kitty felt -- and knew -- that, by contrast, she was probably lucky to be Rick's girlfriend. He made her realize she was beautiful and sexy, that the very most sexy men could fall in love with her and adore her.

It wasn't fair, at all. She wanted this to go away. What the fuck was she supposed to do?

I had told her, eons ago, in preparation for a time like this, what I wanted her to know.

I know that I'm not the hottest man she's ever met; not the most handsome, not the funniest, not the sweetest or most caring, not the most well-endowed. (I'm not sure "well" endowed would ever be used to describe me; "endowed" might be accurate, technically.) I didn't want Kitty to think she had to stay with me just to avoid hurting my feelings, if a "better offer" came along.

I looked at it this way, I told her shortly before she left her first husband to move in with me, about two years ago. She should make decisions in life, just like a company spends money. You have to decide what various things are the most important to you -- then, decide which of those important things are the very most important. Usually you can have all of one thing, or some of everything. You choose what makes you happiest overall, with everything considered. That's your "best" choice. Like, living with me, she gets a man every night and every morning who adores her thoroughly, worships her, and wants no other female on the planet. She also gets to have as many boyfriends as she wants, which fills her with lust and love that completely brings her core self alive. We all call her a slut, but in truth, she just loves men, she wants to fill us with happiness and adoration, not just sexual energy. I know the real her, I want to cultivate that, and make her true self happy.

Other men, they might please her in one or another way -- but would they be the "best" choice for her true self?

If ever that man came along, I told her, don't string me out. Tell me. Do what your heart makes you do.

Her heart was screaming one thing: Rick was the man of her dreams. She melted in his eyes; she had harder orgasms with her; he could make her love herself more than any other man had ever done. In some ways, I had made her feel dirty, slutty -- she was uncontrollable, fucking multiple men in her life, lying to some of them to make them happy. I'm sure at times, she looked at herself and wondered if she had let herself fall into some degrading abyss, living with me. Rick, on the other hand, was old-school. He liked teasing and flirting with women, he had "conquests" on the side -- like Hana -- but he wanted to make a woman happy, in the old-fashioned way, one on one. He was exactly what Kitty would have imagined, if she closed her eyes and asked herself to design one guy she wanted to grow old with.

So, for the rest of that day, Thursday, until the appointed hour at midday on Monday -- almost four full days -- my wife struggled mightily with the conflict Rick had created. It was the curse of being a slutwife. Worse; it was the curse of having love in her heart. If she were just fucking men for the sex, that would have made it easy. Kitty, however, wasn't in it for just the sex. She wanted to fill men with her love, and be loved back. This situation was the natural evolution of her love.

It was like someone punched her in the stomach. She woke up every morning woozy, and nervous about facing the day. Whereas life before always held many magical twists each day -- wondrous new pleasures with her many male friends -- suddenly, each day was a threat. Kitty was nervous about just waking up.

She felt trapped, as if between two colliding walls. She felt her heart wanting to be with Rick, but a moment later, she wanted to be with me and her current life. She didn't want to hurt me -- crush me, really; but she didn't want to do the same to Rick. She was mad at Rick for being hasty, forcing her into this, destroying the fun they were having. But she loved Rick that he was fixing the things in his life, and he wanted her to be part of her life, which gave her self-satisfaction and self-appreciation like she'd never had before.

The confusion made her a different person for most of those four excruciatingly long days. She turned off all of the other men in her life. She ignored calls from Patrick and Tim; she ignored emails from all of her male suitors. She ignored an email from blonde Hana, who wanted to hook up with Rick and her again -- or even just Kitty alone, if she wanted. Instead of spending hours and hours every day naked in front of the computer, having cybersex, webcam sex and phonesex with hung males around the country, she curled up on the sofa and watched TV, to the point of boredom. She went shopping but didn't buy anything. She stayed in bed, for hours, doing nothing. It was particularly odd because two of those days were the weekend. She claimed to me, maybe she was coming down with a virus, she just needed rest. She stopped sucking my cock about once every two hours, as the normally-horny Kitty would do.

About the only calls she was taking, for the most part, was when Rick called. She'd scurry away to talk to him, which was a little abnormal for her but not totally unusual. He was busy making plans, but he kept telling her the countdown to the time the truck would be by on Monday. Three days and four hours. Two days and ten hours. A day and a half. Tomorrow. He loved her, he kept telling her, and she said she loved him too. It was all set, he was going to send the truck to take her to his life.

Except, she hadn't really said "yes" yet. She laid hints that, maybe, he was expecting too much of her. "I'm still not sure," she said a few times; another time, "I'm not sure you really want me, Rick." But, the smooth-talking, boyishly-happy male on the phone wasn't taking "no" for an answer, and he could say all the right things to bring her love for him to the fore. It disarmed her defenses; she ended up a ball of confusion, which he took to mean she wasn't going to resist.

In the midst of her melancholy that weekend, she did have a few hours of her normal, horny self. On that Saturday afternoon, Kitty found herself in front of her computer, early in the afternoon. I was doing yard work outside. Rick was with his family, allegedly the last weekend with them, but his kids and wife didn't know what. Kitty was heartbroken for them, knowing he was leaving. At that time, she still didn't see herself going with him -- but, she felt an emptiness, like she was missing an opportunity at a kind of happiness she'd never had before.

So, for a little while in front of the computer, she responded like the Kitty of old, flushing away any negative thoughts by drowning herself in sex. She went online, and found her sometimes-boyfriend Kent online. They had cybersex for a few minutes before he invited her to see his webcam. One image of his massive, throbbing erection propelled Kitty to strip nude and turn on our webcam too, so Kent could see my wife finger-fucking her cunt while she stared at Kent jerking his meat for her. No sooner had Kent logged off before Tim sent her an IM, saying he missed her terribly.

Kitty, naked and aching for cock, got Tim on the phone and had an hour of phonesex with him. "Oh fuck baby!" she was screaming in pain at the end, her body arching on the sofa we have in the basement, spreading her slender legs and pumping her cunt furiously into her fingers. "Oh Tim baby, fuck me, fuck your little slut!"

The hot afternoon computer sex and phonesex had stirred the loving slut in her, and for a short time, Kitty returned to the computer. She answered questions from boyfriends asking for dates, although she put them all off indefinitely.

She then saw an email from a swinger couple, responding to our solicitation of them -- Gary and Sandra. We'd seen their profile on a swinger website and sent off pictures of ourselves. Now, real swinger couples are not like in porn movies -- rarely are they gorgeous models. The hottest we ever met was Alex and Selena, a hot white guy and his 23 year old Latina wife. Most of them are older (30s and 40s, or even more) and, much like me, very normal people with un-Hollywood bodies. So Kitty and I are pretty picky about swinging, which is why we haven't done it but twice (not counting the time Kitty and Kent swung with Alex and Selena). Gary was in his late 30s, and Sandra in her late 20s, and they looked compatible with Kitty and me. (Meaning, Gary was pretty hot, and Sandra was slightly plump but very pleasant-looking.)

Their email said they might be interested, would we send photos of ourselves? Now, we have a plethora of pictures of Kitty and myself in various stated of dress and undress, together and alone, and playing with others too. But, over time, my body has gotten thinner, as I had plenty of time to work out and get off the flab that had developed around me. Kitty was rather liking how I was looking recently, and she wanted to leave the right impression. So, naked and horny, Kitty grabbed the digital camera on the desk and went upstairs to hunt for me.

Picture the irony. Kitty was having an emotional war within herself, knowing her dream man wanted her to leave me in two days. Still, here she was, setting up an evening with her and me and a swinger couple, for sometime in the future. It was like, temporarily she had two lives, running in parallel.

"David," my naked wife said, finding me in the kitchen grabbing a soda. My cock throbbed, seeing her naked body and wet shaved pussy. "That swinger couple wants to see our picture -- and I wanna show them how good you're looking lately."

Good is a relative term; I was down to 195 pounds, not 230. There was certainly still room for improvement, in terms of body shape.

"Well," I giggled, admiring my wife's sudden zest which had seemed absent for a couple of days, "what's your plan?"

Kitty took me to the living room, where she had me strip and sit on the sofa. Then, sucking my cock, she got me extremely hard. Placing the camera on a shelf and setting the timer on it, my petite wife sat next to me and we took our picture naked -- her legs spread, mine too, showing her glistening-wet pink shaved cunt, her sexy A-cup boobies, and my very stiff penis on my somewhat-not-fat body.

"Okay," she squealed, grabbing the camera, leaving me there to go send the picture to them. "Wait here, I'll be back."

So I sat on the sofa, hoping she'd come back for some sex.

Only, she didn't come back up. She sent the email, alright. Then she saw an email from Rick, asking if she needed boxes for Monday.

And she started sobbing, violently.

* * * *

Monday morning came, and Kitty was still asleep in bed as I went to work. I was clueless, other than thinking she was coming down with a cold or even the flu. She was largely lifeless the night before, her stomach hurt too.

Time dragged, as she lay in bed, hearing her cellphone going off multiple times, but she made no effort to answer it. The various chirps told her who was calling -- Tim, Patrick, Rick, me. The clock moved too slowly for her, taking forever just to reach 10 a.m. She took not one but two showers that morning, about an hour and a half apart, just to fill the time.

I need to call him, she realized. She was picturing a moving truck arriving, with Rick jumping out to start packing up her clothing and taking her to a new life -- one that seemed surreal and fantasy. She knew she had to stop the truck from arriving, she had to give him a firm "no." But, as soon as she made that determination, her stomach knotted up, her body refused to move off the bed. Rick was a living, real dream; being with him every day was indeed a fantasy come true. Maybe, she would debate with herself, she should let the truck come after all.

It was 10:30 a.m. now, and she knew she had to call Rick. He'd been calling almost every fifteen minutes, and he was probably freaking out that she wasn't calling him back. Her stomach wanting to vomit, her head dizzy, she forced herself to the nightstand and picked up her cellphone. Make the fucking call, she told herself -- even though she wasn't sure what she would say.

As luck would have it, the moment she flipped it open, Patrick was calling. She found herself hearing her other handsome boyfriend's voice. "Kitty? Hey, it's me, baby! Can you talk?" His voice sounded happy to hear her, but she immediately sensed a sadness in his tone, there was a dull edge not quite the usual for him.

"Oh -- hi, yeah." She wasn't sure she did want to talk to him at that moment, but it delayed making the call to Rick, which was both good and bad.

Patrick proceeded to make her anxious morning even more difficult. Seems that not only was he really, really missing her, but he had an extremely rough weekend at home. He got into a shouting match with his wife, and he even ended up sleeping in the basement. Now, Patrick wasn't ever going to leave his kids; so he just had to rough it out with his wife through these episodes. It left him depressed and feeling unloved and unappreciated, and thus his need for Kitty was even more acute.

"Please, please, honey," the handsome man said to her over the phone, "can you get away for lunch today, even for a little while? I really, really need to see you a bit -- just hold your hand -- get a little cheering-up." His sincere, earnest plea calmed her nerves. "You're the best thing in my life, other than my kids -- I just need to see you a bit, that's all, get some perspective."

Kitty was biting her lip, restraining a torrent of emotions that wanted to leak out of her eyes. "Ummm, not sure." She closed her eyes, slumping on the bed, not wanting to add another complication to her day. She hated saying "no" to Patrick, when he needed her.

And that's when the lightbulb went off.

What had I told her, so long ago? Make the "best" choice. Find out what's important, everything, all things; make every choice to maximize all things at once, as much as you can. It's easy to say, hard to do -- but when you realize what's important, the choice does become clear.

Her emotions changed in an instant, her tears retreated and she sat up with zest, energy in her voice. "Yeah, I'm free -- let me call you back in a bit, I have to rearrange something, okay?"

Patrick's voice cheered up too. "Great -- but, you wanna meet for lunch, or at the usual?" The latter referred to the cheap motel near his office, where he would typically bang her on extended lunchtimes.