Monogamy Isn't for Everyone

As I was just coming down from the euphoria of my second orgasm he pulled me up off the sofa, lifted me up by my thighs and ass cheeks, pushed my back against the nearest wall, and while smashing his lips into mine started poking his cock at my cunt. I wrapped my glimmering thighs around his waist, and reached one hand down to guide his rock-hard cock into my soaking wet orifice. Then all hell broke loose.

The animal fucked the shit out of me. He used long strokes, then short ones; slow deep and powerful strokes, then quick shallow ones; he rotated his hips, he squeezed my ass cheeks, and when I was about to orgasm for the third time he squatted slightly so that his cock actually seemed to be pushing "up" into me and then it exploded like a geyser into my eager cunt. My circuits fried in sync with my banshee yell and digging my nails into his back. I was almost comatose as he kept pummeling me long after the last cum grenade had detonated inside me. Finally I could tell that his knees were starting to buckle, so he back-pedaled to the couch and after I moved my thighs to the side of his body he was somehow able to sit with his cock still inside my pussy.

We moaned into each other's necks for the longest time, then he started sucking on my tits, and finally he softened and popped out of me. We eventually disengaged and as we sat side-by-side on the couch both started giggling.

"I'm sure that I don't need any more 'testing' but I'm not sure that I'd survive even a few weeks with you," I chortled. "You're a fucking animal," I continued chortling, while lightly squeezing his balls. That was the first time that my eyes saw his equipment, although my pussy was very well acquainted with it. He had a beautiful cock sparkling with our combined juices, and low hanging balls.

"Sorry," he cackled. "It's been a while for me and you're the hottest chick I've ever been around so I got overly excited. Your thighs are absolutely 'killer!'"

I smiled, snickered "Flattery will get you everywhere," then got down on my knees, took his flaccid cock into my mouth, and cleaned it off while I massaged his testicles. He started to get hard again but I stood up and said "My little kitty couldn't stand another bout right now, and I don't want it too sore in case my husband wants to knock off a piece of ass tonight. When can we meet again to schedule our activities?"

"Do you have any free time Saturday?" he asked with a mile-wide grin.

"My husband is taking the kids for swimming lessons that morning so I'm free from nine to eleven. Can I meet you here at 9:00 am to plan?"

"My pen -- and my bed -- will be ready," he laughed as he stood up and planted a passionate kiss on me while squeezing a tit.

I pulled on my shorts and put on my top and -- still in my high heels -- very carefully maneuvered down his steep wooden front steps, holding on to the railing. I had to just sit behind the wheel of my car for a while before driving off because my eyes weren't focusing properly. "Now I know what it's like to be fucked blind," I snickered to myself.

As I drove home, Garrett's cum was still leaking out of my pussy, and some had caked on my thighs. I needed a shower badly and didn't have much time before the kids were home from school -- fortunately today was not my car pool day. Even though my head was still spinning, I looked like a new woman by the time that my friend Elsie dropped Brad and Bernice off.

I made a nice big dinner with plenty of courses -- not because I felt guilty, because I didn't, but because I was famished. Regardless of my motives, Kent was very appreciative of the meal, and by the time that he put Bernice to bed and read her a story, and I put Brad to bed with his now seemingly nightly fifteen minute discussion about his favorite baseball team, I was feeling a stirring in my loins.

While I was still a little sore from my early afternoon encounter I was also horny; endorphins were still coursing through my body. While Kent had been affectionate recently, we hadn't fucked for nearly a week. When I cuddled up to him and placed one thigh over his leg in front of the TV he looked at me, smiled, and said "You seem to be cuddling a little differently than normal, Celeste. Why is that?"

"I want to know if you think that I have nice thighs." I mumbled while biting my thumb.

"Killer," he said with a smile. I smiled back while I thought "The second time that I've heard that today."

"Do you mind that I'm not wearing panties and have recently shaved?" I asked, feigning bashfulness. I had actually shaved that morning before meeting Garrett.

"Let me see," he humorously said.

A few minutes later the TV was off, we were in our bed, and I was riding him cowgirl while he massaged my mammary glands until we had a nice almost simultaneous orgasm. I then promptly fell asleep, more content than I could remember.

________________

Things with Garrett proceeded smoothly. We both knew what we wanted, and we both really wanted to make it work. Plus, our equipment meshed almost perfectly.

Our agreement, which we actually wrote down (but didn't sign or include names in) was: We would meet twice a week, three times if either of us was particularly horny and it could be worked out. We would schedule the times and places by email, from accounts used only for that purpose with arbitrary names, changed every few weeks, each Sunday for the ensuing week. We would have a code word in case we had to cancel a meeting. We would never, ever, have any public display of affection or talk about the other person to anyone else. I wouldn't fuck anyone except him and Kent. If he fucked anyone else he would practice safe sex. If he developed feelings for anyone else so that he wanted to cut it off with me, he would give me two weeks advance notice. I would give him two weeks' notice if I wanted to cancel. We would try to work in overnight trips now and again, but they would be at a remote location with different travel methods unless we drove together after meeting outside our area. We would make every attempt to avoid emotional involvement. We were both really up for experimentation.

The fucking was incredible. Without the inhibitions or expectations of marriage (in mine, and according to him in his before his divorce, there were some things we were unwilling to suggest to our spouses lest it interfere with our relationship or make them suspicious) we experimented freely. The first time that he gently inserted a butt plug up my ass while fucking me doggy I almost passed out. The first time he did that with a vibrator and then turned in on low I screamed and almost literally climbed up a wall.

Since we both really wanted to make it work we were flexible in our schedules, and our fuck sessions took priority over anything else in our lives except for my quality time with Brad, Bernice and Kent, and his teaching and coaching. Except during our respective vacations, we were almost always able to schedule two sessions a week, one or two orgasms for him and three to five for me, each time. Sometimes we met three times in a week; four times we went away for three nights together. Even if Garrett had a romantic relationship with another woman we kept to our schedule and kept our priorities.

Since I was a consultant for the volleyball team, and since both of us got involved in some common community activities, we didn't just see each other when we fucked. We often saw each other times too, and enjoyed each other's company although we were sure to have no PDA or soulful looks.

Did I mention that the sex was incredible? Not only that but it got even better as we found things that we had experimented with that turned out to be particularly rewarding.

I can honestly say that Kent never missed out on sex because of my relationship with Garrett. Unless I was ill I made sure that I was available any time that Kent wanted to knock off a piece of ass, and participated vigorously. Also, since my sessions with Garrett kept my libido high there were times that I attacked Kent, breaking down his initial inertia, and with Kent I employed the best techniques from my experimentation with Garrett -- that is, those that would not raise suspicions. I covered my bases since I told Kent that I had learned any new technique from "girl talk."

Kent never once acted suspicious.

When my relationship with Garrett got to the point where it had been going on for about ten years -- he had gone through three girlfriends in that time period -- I took time to reflect. I had been thoroughly happy and fulfilled the entire decade, and could not be more content with my life. I was in perfect physical, mental, and emotional condition. What I had sure beat monogamy!

I did have one minor worry, however. When Garrett dropped the third girlfriend that he had during our relationship I asked him why, because I knew and liked her and thought that she was very compatible with Garrett.

"I made the mistake of comparing her to you in bed -- and she came up short. Way short. She was looking for an exclusive commitment and I couldn't give it to her as long as I'm porking you!" he replied.

I hoped that he hadn't fallen for me, but I put it out of my mind and instead just reveled in my contentment.

___________

Something always happens, though, doesn't it? It was not more than three weeks after my smug reflection on the status my existence that a monkey wrench got thrown into the machine of my life.

Even though Garrett had just gotten back late from a trip on a Friday night -- actually at 4 a.m. on Saturday -- he didn't want to miss our planned Saturday 8 a.m. encounter. Our previous encounter had been one of our best ever since we did The Wheelbarrow and The Rocking Horse in the same session, the latter with a butt plug up my ass.

I rode Garrett reverse cowgirl that Saturday morning, playing with his balls and fingering his ass while I did. My pussy really sucked all of the cum out of him. Afterward I sucked his cock until it was completely clean. He was out of it when I got up giggling to go to the bathroom.

My cellphone -- at the side of the bed -- rang while I was in the bathroom and even though my cell-tone is significantly different than Garrett's, in his stupefied condition he answered it "Garrett Danner." He later told me that he was expecting a phone call from the School's Headmaster at 10 a.m. and was unaware of the time.

"Where's Celeste?" Was the male voice on the other end.

Still not thinking clearly Garrett responded, "She's here, let me get her." It was only then that he realized his mistake.

By the time that I got to the phone Garrett was in a panic. He saw the caller ID and realized that it was Kent. My explanation of "talking with Garrett about volleyball," didn't sit with Kent because it wasn't close to volleyball season.

As I drove home from disconsolate Garrett's house I thought back to eleven years ago when I first started on my journey for a lifestyle better than monogamy. I promised myself then that I would not lie to Kent if questioned directly about it. I decided to keep that promise, even though I didn't keep the "forsaking all others" vow.

When I walked through the door Kent looked angry -- hardly a surprise. "What's going on?" he growled.

I half-smiled. "Bernice has to leave for soccer in fifteen minutes. Our talk is going to take more than fifteen minutes. I promise to come clean. Let's arrange for sleepovers for the kids, and I can tell you the entire story."

That seemed to mollify him slightly. "You arrange the sleepovers, I'll take Bernice to soccer," he snapped.

Both Brad and Bernice were happy to have overnights at friends' houses; they actually had recently been begging for them. I was able to arrange them with just a few calls.

We did things as a family for the rest of the day, including an early dinner. I took fourteen year old Bernice to her sleepover; sixteen year old Brad drove to his. When I returned, Kent was sitting in the living room.

"Do you want me tell the whole story, or do you want to ask questions?" I asked.

"You told me that you're coming completely clean -- whatever that means. Why don't you just do that," he said, with his arms crossed.

I sighed then started. Kent's eyes were fixed on me. Mine flashed between him and random objects in the room. "Eleven years ago I was restless and unhappy. I started to long for the adrenaline rush and excitement that I got from competitive athletics, and I was bored. Even taking care of two active little kids wasn't that much of a challenge, and didn't relieve my lack of excitement."

I sighed again. I saw Kent react only to the words "eleven years" and "adrenaline rush." I paused for a few seconds, and then continued.

"I examined my life completely. Please know that by saying this next thing that I am NOT in any way suggesting that you were responsible for what happened, because you're not; this is all about me. I'm just setting the stage."

Kent gave what appeared to be an involuntary nod.

"You were really involved in business, providing for our family, but that gave me too much time to think -- and get bored. I concluded that the only thing that would satisfy me would be to have extramarital sex with a single discrete partner." Kent involuntarily winced at that.

"It took me about eight months to find a suitable candidate. That's when I came across Garrett Danner. We've been having sex an average of two times a week since then, about the last ten years."

Kent looked like he was in shock. I think the only thing that kept him from going ballistic was the calm way that I delivered my story, and the fact that tears were dripping from one of my eyes.

"Kent, I'm sorry that you found out. I'm not sorry that I did it, because the last ten years having your love and sex with both you and Garrett has kept me completely fulfilled. I have had endorphins racing through my blood vessels most of the time. I know that is at an end now."

I pulled a handkerchief out of a side pocket of my purse and sniffled into it. He was still in shock.

"I will make this as easy for you as possible. If you want a divorce I won't oppose it and I won't ask for alimony; I'll get a job to support myself. We can move to someplace where we are close together so that both of us can see the kids all of the time, and completely cooperate in their upbringing."

I saw no real reaction from Kent so I continued. "If you decide that we can stay married I'll break it off with Garrett and never see him again. Either way, I won't have the same fulfillment in life that I had yesterday, but I've had ten fantastic years of selfish pleasure so I can't pity myself."

Still no reaction from Kent -- he was staring at the floor. "There's only one caveat to what I say. I do not want Garrett exposed to his employer. I'm the one solely responsible; he's only a man and he couldn't resist me throwing my killer body at him. If you expose Garrett I'll make the divorce difficult; otherwise, since you're the wronged party I'll do whatever you want."

Finally Kent reacted. He got up, swore at me, paced back and forth, called me many names -- the nicest one was "slut" -- at the top of his lungs, kicked furniture, and smashed the glass top of the coffee table. I sat there, not making eye contact, sniffling into my hankie.

When Kent seemed to run out of steam I quietly asked "Do you want me to go to a hotel tonight, or move into the guest room?"

Kent paused for the longest time, staring at me. Suddenly he strode quickly over to me, grabbed me by the arm, and forcefully pulled me behind him upstairs to our bedroom. When we got to the bedroom he turned to face me with fire in his eyes. In a gruff voice he said "If I'm gonna divorce you I'm gonna get one last fuck of your slutty cunt.

Kent literally ripped my clothes off, threw me on the bed, and pulled off his pants. I didn't resist him in any way. He stuck his cock in my face and said "Suck it slut." I did. He got hard quickly. Once he was hard he pulled me off the bed, bent me over the back of the padded arm chair in our bedroom, and without any foreplay shoved his cock into my surprisingly moist pussy.

Kent fucked me more vigorously than I could remember. He roughly handled my tits as he did so. I got a powerful orgasm which caused my pussy to clamp down on his cock, instigating a forceful ejaculation of his cum into me. When he was done he pulled out, grabbed my hair, turned me around toward him, and said "Clean me up, slut."

I stayed subservient and sucked him clean. When I was done, without a word he got up and walked out of the room while I went into the washroom, peed, and started to shower. When Kent returned he pulled me out of the shower, dragged me to the bed, duct-taped my arms to the headboard, and then proceeded to finger fuck me.

By the next morning, Kent had sucked my tits raw, had fingered me dozens of time, and had fucked me three more times before he released me about 9 a.m. He had never fucked me more than twice in twelve hours before, and that night it was four times. My pussy was the sorest that it ever was.

I never begged him to stop, or resisted him in any way. I let him do whatever he wanted to me. I would have even let him have my ass if he had wanted it.

Before the kids came home I moved into the guest room. We had as normal a day as possible, under the circumstances, that Sunday, and I don't think that the kids sensed anything. Kent and I never talked about the 600 pound gorilla in the house, although we did talk almost normally about other things.

While Kent and Brad were at Brad's baseball game, and Bernice and a friend of hers were talking in her room, I drafted a note to Kent in long hand.

"Dear Kent:

I sincerely apologize again for hurting you. I do want to stay married to you, but the decision is completely in your hands. As I told you last night if you decide to divorce me I will not seek alimony. I will seek joint custody and will make every reasonable attempt to ensure that we both are as involved in our kids' lives as we are now, even if it means moving into adjacent apartments or condos, or even living together in the same house, me in the basement, you in the master bedroom.

One thing that I want you to focus on when making your decision is whether you were ever, even in the slightest way, denied either my love, or sex, at any time during the last ten years? I have been honest with you about my cheating -- if you are honest with yourself you have to answer that question 'No.'

I want your decision in sixty days. In the meantime I will sleep in the guestroom; if you don't tell me by then that you want to remain married I will file for divorce at that time. During this time I will make myself available for sex -- just like the slut that you have correctly pointed out that I am. However, I will not again be subjected to the same treatment as I was last night. You can treat me as a call girl, but not like a $3 whore.

I will not see Garrett again until you make a decision, or ever again if you decide to stay married to me.

I am willing to talk with you whenever you want, but will not initiate a discussion with you.

Love, Celeste."

I laid the letter on Kent's pillow in the master bedroom. I know that he read it because I saw it open, although face down, on the night table.

____________

It's now been fifty two days since I wrote the letter to Kent. Seven times since then he came into my room in the middle of the night for sex. Each time I tried to fuck him the best that I possibly could, and we had simultaneous mammoth orgasms six of the seven times, and nice ones the seventh. Twice, including last night, we fell asleep together in each other's arms; the other five times he left about ten minutes after we fucked.