My Wife, Her Boss, Our Agreement

This is part 3 in a series, the first two of which are "My Wife, Our Stories, Her Boss" and "My Wife, Her Boss, His Desk."

I'll say what I always say: if you do not enjoy hotwife, vixen and cuckold stories, please stop reading now. I and loads of other readers look to the Loving Wives category on this site for stories of precisely this sort, as this channel has long been a great place for writers and readers to explore these desires.

If you do like stories of this sort and have feedback that can help me suck a little less as a writer, I'd be delighted to receive it.

---- Reaching Conclusions ----

If you've been following my story so far you know that I was now getting a little confused about what was really going on between my wife, Amanda, and her boss, Eric . . . I knew she desired him, I think I knew he desired her, and I knew she enjoyed telling me stories that were inspired by the fantasies she had had during the day. But I was having a more difficult time guessing where the line between fiction and fact was, and Amanda was extremely coy on this point. To be fair, she knew that this got me off, so I don't think she was purposefully lying to me or anything like that. I think she just knew it did more for both of us to keep the line between fiction and fact a little hazy.

So, the previous night (as I recounted in "My Wife, Her Boss, His Desk"), Amanda had told me a story of Eric finding her in his office and, to make a long story short, fucking her (yes there were a few intermediate steps, but those interested in these can return to that story-I need to nudge the narrative forward a bit here!).

I was pretty sure that he hadn't actually made love to her, but the details of Amanda's story left me guessing. If it had all stopped short of sex, as I was sure it had, just how much shorter did it stop?

As she left the room that night she had taken her teasing to a new level, telling me to jerk myself off as I thought through everything that she had said. Telling me to decide for myself where I wanted to draw the line.

And the results of my exploration were confusing.

On the one hand, I was furious with jealousy, and wanted to know precisely what was true and what wasn't.

Surely he hadn't fucked her, but had she sucked his cock? No. Impossible. Or was it?

Had she kissed him at least? Of that much I was becoming increasingly sure . . .

On the other hand, as I thought through each part of her story, there wasn't a single part that didn't turn me on. And I mean really turn me on. As I searched my feelings for something that crosses a real line for me . . . something along the line between kissing and fucking that was too much, some action of hers or his that no longer seemed erotic but rather painful to the point of being a turn off . . . well . . . I just couldn't find that line.

It drove me crazy with jealousy; it drove me crazy with desire.

And, in the end, I realized that I wanted it all to be true. Every bit. Her flirting with him. Her kissing him. Eric holding her, tearing open her blouse. Penetrating her, making her come. I wanted all of it to be true. And if it wasn't true yet, I wanted it to become so.

---- To Tell the Truth ----

All night I tried to figure out how I would tell Amanda this. Of course she had asked me to think about what I wanted, and to tell her. But I still wasn't quite sure that she would be expecting me to come to the conclusion I'd come to.

When she awoke in our bed I had been awake for a while.

"Good morning, sweetie," she said. "Did you have a good night?"

"An interesting one." I responded.

"Oh? Go on . . . "

"I spent the night thinking about your story, and your question."

"What question was that?" She asked coyly, I think just to get me to repeat it myself.

"Well, you asked me to think a bit about where I wanted the line between fact and fiction to be. To think about which elements I wished were true, and which I wished were false."

She smiled and kissed me. "Go on . . . "

"Well, Amanda . . . this isn't easy to say. But I think I want all of it."

She looked a little shocked.

"You're not upset, are you?"

"No-just surprised-I think you need to explain yourself a little bit more." she asked, clearly a little disoriented, at least initially, by what I'd said.

"Amanda, I sat up half the night recounting the details of what you said . . . and while, I'm not going to lie, a bunch of it makes me insanely jealous-even sick to my stomach at points, I have to admit that I also find every last bit of it intensely exciting. Sweet." I paused for a second-this was really going to change everything. Our marriage. My life. Hers. But I couldn't stop. "Amanda, I think I want it. I think I want all of it."

"This is serious, John-you need to really spell this out for me so that there is no confusion. I don't want to hurt you, and want to make sure both of us understand what you're asking."

"I agree, Amanda. Again, none of this is easy to talk about, all the words seem a little crude or vulgar the second they come out of my mouth. But I think I want you to have a relationship with Eric."

"We already have a relationship, John, every employee has some sort of relationship with his or her boss. You need to be more explicit. What kind of relationship are you suggesting I pursue? A romantic relationship? A sexual relationship?"

"Yes."

"Yes what? John-I'm serious-you need to spell this out. I need you to be explicit. Tell me."

"What I want is for our love-the love between you and me to grow, and remain central. But as you've explored these fantasies about Eric with me it's clear that you have sexual desires that extend beyond our marriage . . . at least beyond our initial marriage vows. And I suppose I'd like us to revisit those vows and come up with something that works for both of us now. Something that lets the two of us grow closer, but also allows us to explore new desires."

She slowly looked me up and down, perhaps wondering if this was a trick intended to get her to admit to something beyond what she had admitted last night.

"I couldn't be more serious about this, Amanda. I want us to explore everything we desire-everything you desire. I'm scared, of course. I worry at times I won't be able to handle it. But I think I've realized now that if we don't explore this thing . . . that both of us are going to regret it."

Amanda looked at me, still trying to process what I was saying, but I could tell that she didn't want me to stop. That I was saying things she found interesting, exciting, desirable. "Go on . . . " she said.

"I'm hopeful that we can start slow, and that you can check in with me as things develop." I said.

"You mean by discussing everything before I do it?"

"Well-yes-as much as possible. I just want to make sure we don't accidentally cross any lines without meaning to do so." I said.

Amanda stood up and walked towards me, and without saying a word gave me the warmest hug I could remember getting. "I love you so much, John."

"I love you too, Amanda."

It was if some secret knowledge or agreement, something way beyond any words we'd said had passed between us. In that moment our relationship-our marriage-had changed. When our embrace ended and we stepped back from each other and I looked into her eyes, something was different. I was still just as much in love we her, and she seemed in love with me. But there was an independence and a mystery in her now. Something I couldn't quite process, and certainly something I couldn't control.

I think that both of us were caught in a tangle excitement, fear, regret, desire, confusion-you name it. But what I definitely can say is that there was a new honesty between us. And a vulnerability or nakedness. She was seeing all my desires, as perverse as they may be, and I was seeing hers. And we were saying yes.

It was almost like a second wedding. At the first I took her to be my wife and she took me to be her husband, but we hadn't the faintest idea of what this might involve, and, now, in retrospect, we each had a relatively limited sense of what a husband and wife were, what they'd do with each other . . . certainly what they could do with others. Now we were saying yes to something richer and stranger than anything we could have imagined as twenty-somethings.

It was definitely going to be a new chapter in our lives.

---- Negotiations ----

The rest of the day we let the subject be. We both knew that more needed to be said, but for most of the day neither one of us wanted to start the conversation. It was once we were in bed that night, Amanda's head resting on my chest, that we both knew the time had come to say a little more.

Amanda was the first to speak.

"Sweetie-I'm nervous about all this. Scared and excited; wanting things, but also wanting not to hurt you. And I get what you are saying about checking in with you about things as they develop; and I want to. But there are going to be moments-I mean, if I'm being honest, there already have been moments-when I can't control things. I can keep myself out of certain situations in advance, and I can regret certain situations after the fact. But there is something that happens between a man and a woman when they are alone, something that happens between a man's body and a woman's body, something that can't quite be controlled. You understand that, don't you?"

I nodded, somewhat more meekly than I had intended. "I get it, Amanda. After all, one of the things that excites me most about this scenario is that there are desires that overwhelm you, desires that you can't quite control."

"And that's why I think we need to work on understanding at least some of the limits or contours of this thing now . . . before I'm lost in it. I think we need to come to some sort of agreement."

"An agreement?"

"Yes-sort of like our wedding vows. In a sense, these will be our new vows, an entirely new set of rules for our relationship."

It was a sign of my growing depravity that my cock stirred at these words.

"Say more . . ." I encouraged her.

"Well, maybe we can't figure everything out tonight, but I think we should talk a little about what's OK and what's not; what I want and what you want; where lines are drawn and what happens if we cross them."

"That seems wise." (I didn't know what else to say.)

"And I think we should hold each other to stay connected physically and emotionally as we talk about this" Her hand caressed my chest as she said this. "I love you, John. And I want to make sure that all of this, everything I do, everything we explore together, isn't about me becoming disconnected from you. I want it to bring us closer together . . for it to give us feelings we've never had before, not just separately, but together. If there's anything I say that makes you pull away, I'll know that it's wrong. But if things I say draw us closer . . . and . . . let's put this plainly . . . if they arouse you, then I'll know we're on the right track."

I laughed. "So you're going to use the hardness of my cock as a barometer?"

Amanda laughed too. "Well--not precisely-but I guess what I'm saying is that I want us to come to an agreement that's good for both of us-one that excites both of us, that turns both of us on. And I think that being intimate as we talk about it is a great way to gauge whether we're on the right or wrong track."

"How do I know you're not just using that sexy body of yours as a negotiating tactic-to get all the concessions out of me that you can?" I joked.

Amanda rolled over on top of me, allowing her hair to fall on my face and chest. "Hmmmm-don't give me any ideas."

As she said this she kissed her way across my shoulders, down my chest, then with her tongue she traced the line where my boxers met my waist.

"I wonder what I could get you to agree to if I put my mind to it . . . and maybe my mouth to it."

She now kissed the my cock through the fabric of my briefs. I couldn't feel the texture of her lips but I could feel the warmth of her breath. It was driving me insane. But as she kissed it she pressed it down, constraining it, teasing me by physically restraining me from the release I thought . . . and doing it with the very mouth that was arousing me.

"So baby," she cooed between kisses, "let's talk about what's OK and what's not OK." She kept her face and mouth close to my cock, but still refused to drop by boxers to take me in her mouth. "How about this? What if I'm close to another man, but our skin doesn't touch? What if I can feel him, and what if he can feel me, through fabric?"

This was driving me fucking insane. It did NOT seem smart to seriously discuss the rules for our brand new open relationship like this, but I found myself desperately wanting both to figure out what the fuck was going to happen to my marriage AND to have Amanda's mouth (or something!) on my cock.

"Oh god, Amanda-I think that would be OK-of course that would be OK."

At that she left my boxers behind and kissed her way back up my body, up my chest, across my shoulders, the side of my neck, until her lips we in my ear.

"And if he-well let's just drop the charade-if Eric touched me through my clothes, would that be too much? If he caressed my back? If he reached around my body from behind and took my breasts in his hands?" She began breathing heavily in my ear. "If he held my breasts as he kissed my neck until I just couldn't take it . . . would that be too much?

She felt my cock throb and had her answer.

"Good, baby. That's really good," she laughed a knowing laugh, "because there's a chance that that may already have happened."

She kissed me deeply and at this point finally grabbed my cock through my boxers-firmly . . . I let out a moan . . . a moan that may as well have been my signature on this strange contract we were drafting. She knew she had me now. The only question was how far she'd push me.

"And what if I touched him like this?" she asked, as her hands traced the outline of my cock through the fabric, "what if I touched him like this just to get a sense of what he had inside his pants, baby? Would that be too naughty of me?"

"I hope not baby . . . because that MAY have happened already too. I won't say. I certainly won't say what I found. Again, that's IF I already did this. All I want to know from you now is whether I can do it going forward. What do you think baby. Do you want this? Do you want me to touch your cock now? Do you want me to touch Eric's like this when I'm with him."

She had me. I didn't know what the fuck I was saying yes to. I just said it.

"Fuck yes, Amanda . . . yes . . . please . . ."

"Good . . . I really think we're getting somewhere John. It seems to me as though we are both comfortable with nearly anything that can happen with clothes on. So why don't we think a little bit about what can happen with our clothes off."

At the point she sat up and sat astride my abdomen. She had a newfound confidence I had never encountered in her before. As she slowly began grinding her pussy against my cock, she took off her bra to release her breasts . . . as beautiful and as large (larger) than ever.

She leaned over me until her hair fell in my face and her breasts just barely touched my bare chest. She moved her body slowly so that her nipples just barely brushed against me, moving across my chest, her nipples touching mine.

"Should I let him touch these, babe? Should I let my naked breasts press against his chest? His chest is rather impressive," she laughed, "all the girls in the office would tell you that. How about it . . . if I'm alone with him in his office, or in his car, or-in his bedroom-can I take off my bra and let my breasts touch his bare chest?"

"Yesss . . ." I almost hissed. I had never felt this aroused. I have heard about me coming without being touched, but it had never happened to me. In that moment, I knew it could happen to me.

"Good. Good."

She then kissed me on the lips and worked her way back down my body and finally-finally-released my cock by pulling down my briefs. She took me in her mouth, slowly, sensually, again with this newfound confidence that I found both erotic and unnerving. She was doing new things to my cock with her mouth, things I had never felt before, and I was a little scared to ask where she had learned them.

"And what about this, babe. What if I took his gorgeous cock in my mouth? Would that be OK? Would I have to tell you first? Would you want me to tell you after?"

"Oh god, Amanda . . . yes, yes . . ."

"Good-because I want to tell you . . . I want to share the experience with you John. I know it can bring us closer."

She brought me closer and closer to coming with her hands without letting me pass over the edge. She clearly had more plans for me.

"Collect all the things we've done tonight in your imagination, John, my wonderful husband . . . think about everything we've done up to this point-everything you've said yes to--is it all in your head? The kisses? The touches? My mouth on your cock?"

"Yes . . ."

"It has all happened, John. That much has happened already."

"Oh God . . ." I drove my hips up towards her hands seeking release, but she pull them back, teasingly.

"Oh no you don't . . . not yet!" She laughed. "I had been wondering if you'd be mad by what I'd done so far, and I guess that gives me my answer!"

"Oh god, Amanda-I don't know--I don't know if I'm mad-I don't know if I want this . . ."

She reached for my cock again and rubbed it soothingly.

"There there, babe-it's OK. You do want this . . . we are just having a hard time admitting it. I'm going to help you. But we need to go a little further. Are you OK with that?"

"OK. OK Amanda, just please let me come . . ."

"I will babe, I will, but it has to be at the right moment-we just have a little more to discuss-just a little more before our Agreement will be complete."

I didn't know how much more of this I could take.

Pushing things to yet another level, Amanda stood up on the bed, standing above me, and asked me to remove her panties.

I did.

And if I thought it was tough to have her breasts gently caressing my chest, I was not at all prepared for her pussy.

She sat down again, straddling my chest, her gorgeous breasts and hair and eyes above me, her sex just inches from my mouth, taunting me.

"Do you want to have a little taste babe?"

"Yes, Amanda, oh god yes--please."

"Soon baby, soon. First I need us to talk just a little bit about what I can and can't do. With other men. With Eric. If you need to know everything. If you want to be there--if you need to see it for yourself."

I let out an involuntary groan.

"Ohhhhh--is someone interested in watching, is he? I had been wondering. I actually don't think I'd like you there all the time, John--because this is about my pleasure too--it's not just a show I'm putting on for you or something. But maybe just once, or twice, or once in a while?" As she said this she began to grind her pussy against my chest.

"What do you think, John? Do you think you'd prefer me to discreetly enjoy myself out of sight? Or do you think you'd like to see what it's like now and then? To see how Eric makes me feel? To hear the way I sound when I'm with him rather than you, to see how he makes me come."

"Oh god, Amanda."

"Is that what you want? Tell me and you can have a little taste--just a little one. The more honest you are with me the more you get."

"Yes, Amanda-I don't need to be there all the time, but if it's going to happen I think I need to see it at least once. Oh god--I'm so ashamed--but I want it-I want to see."