Now You Do Mine - Conclusion

Amanda snorted. "She wouldn't do anything about it, Dougie. She told him she feels a little bit ashamed he has to go outside their marriage for his physical needs, and she's a prude besides."

"She is?" This gossip about my lover was getting more interesting as it went on.

Amanda counted each point off on her fingers. "One, she hasn't been in the mood for sex for three years, maybe more. Two, even if she was, she's been frigid longer than that, putting up with sex, not really enjoying it like you and I do. Just lies there when he's on top, lets him do all the work, not like us." I wasn't sure which us she meant, and didn't bother to clarify.

Amanda continued her list of things wrong with Walter's wife. "Third, she thinks oral sex is dirty, won't go down on him or let him eat her out. Finally, she has a body image problem, overweight, and doesn't let him see her naked. Can you imagine that?"

I allowed as how I couldn't imagine it, although I completely understood her withdrawal from Walter, declining to put any effort into sex with him. Overweight, though, she wasn't.

Amanda leaned in and licked her lips, practically tasting the juicy gossip she was about to impart to me. Her voice pitched low, confidential, even though nobody else was in the house to hear. "She's also a bit of a perv. She gets off just watching, and asked Walter to record us fucking so she can watch while he's at work. I let him video us sometimes, just for her sake. I even sucked Walter's dick in one of them. It's the least I can do for her, poor thing." Oho, I thought. There is a recording, probably a few of them, of Walter plowing my wife... I didn't mention that the poor thing was now sharing me.

"So, he's not getting any from her." I sounded sorry for him, even though I felt angry with all of the slights and outright lies Walter had laid at Gretchen's feet, and at Amanda for accepting them uncritically and repeating them to me.

"Not like you are! He's very patient, very thorough, and if I didn't love you, I could easily see me spending the next many years getting my own rocks off with him. He doesn't love me, I know that, and I know you do, Dougie." She got up from the table and came around to my side. "How about we do dishes later."

"Later?"

She slipped her blouse off, showing off a pale blue and obviously new bra I hadn't seen, then folded the blouse over the back of her dining room chair. "After we fuck. All this talk has gotten me so hot..." It was a great way to change the subject, but didn't erase all she had said about Gretchen.

I went ahead and fucked her, my erection more of an automatic response, pounding her pussy mechanically while she rode atop me. We both came, and Amanda pulled me out of her and sucked the rest of my jizz out with her mouth. It was something I was formerly grateful for whenever she did it, but now it was just something we did, ultimately joyless, like putting coins in a vending machine and getting a candy bar or chips, and almost as intimate.

The same pattern continued. We fucked almost nightly, Amanda insatiable and horny for almost two weeks, then nothing for a week before asking me yet again to be accepting of her visiting Walter again. Never 'fucking', just visiting, as if he was flying in for a few hours and had a layover.

It helped to imagine Gretchen on top instead of my wife, and more to think about what she and I would do the next time we met, during Amanda's 'visit' with Walter.

********

I arranged to meet Gretchen for dinner Friday evening, two nights later, telling Amanda I had a late night at the office. She smirked when I told her, and I wondered if she thought I was going to try to sleep with some other random woman. She wasn't going to Walter's tonight; I told her I would be home around eight, and besides his wife was still in town, though she didn't know I knew that.

Gretchen arrived at the restaurant, a very tasteful seafood place, near the airport. I had no intention of sleeping with her tonight, not from a lack of desire, but because when we started we had trouble stopping. She was gorgeous as ever, her golden hair up in a bun atop her head, a genuine smile on her face. She wore a pantsuit, very conservative, dark blue with a creamy satin top. My mind wandered to her bra, and the treasures it concealed, as well as the rest of her bounty hidden from view by her clothing.

My cock stiffened when she sat down, anticipating our next lovemaking session. It had started as just sex, the needful contact between two lonely people, married to others out of habit and for convenience and getting their pleasure with each other. I had thought it was okay at first, just a one-time fling my wife Amanda had to calm her blood down, get her attention fully on our marriage.

Now she was seeing him regularly, fucking him with abandon weekends at a time, then coming home to play the wanton slut with me the intervening nights she couldn't have him. I knew Gretchen had played her part in this with her periodic 'trips out of town,' but this was more due to Amanda and Walter eagerly diving into the sack. I know Amanda excused it in her mind, likely telling herself I was benefiting too, and had no room to complain. After all, I was getting laid more often, only by her so far as she knew, and she now had two men filling her pussy and mouth practically on demand.

Gretchen demurely took her seat, careful not to betray any sign of our intimacy. I noticed she had brought a briefcase, also dark blue, solid with square corners, and set it between her chair and the wall. "Doug, so nice to be able to meet you for dinner!" That was for the benefit of anyone listening, though I could easily imagine about half the professionally dressed couples were heading out to the adjoining hotel on a given Friday night, bedding each other while pretending publicly they weren't.

"So good to see you, Gretchen." I stood and shook her hand firmly, then we seated ourselves.

After we ordered iced tea and an appetizer, she leaned forward. "Love seeing you during the week, Doug..." She was softly panting, and her blouse was unbuttoned to reveal her cleavage, and the bra restraining her breasts. "Do you have a room upstairs for us?"

"Not tonight, my love." She blushed, her grin widening when she heard that.

"Okay. So, why dinner so far away?"

"We need to talk."

A shadow crossed her face. "We need to talk?"

"About the situation we're in." She opened her mouth, and I saw the fear in her eyes as she contemplated life alone again. I hastened to reassure her. "No, no, Gretchen. Not we have to talk as code for ending things. I love you, and at the same time we need to do something about our spouses."

"Oh." She relaxed, pensive for a moment. "Maybe I could give you a goodnight blowjob at my front door tonight?" She had a wicked leer on her lips, anticipating the jets of creamy white semen streaming into her mouth, while Walter, her faithless husband, peered out the front window in shocked comprehension of what she had also been doing over many weekends. "Give him a little reality check that his wife is still desirable."

I chuckled. "Lovely thought, baby. But I have something else in mind."

She cocked an eyebrow and sat back a little. "What are you thinking, Doug?"

"Have you and Walter had sex at all since you discovered him fucking my wife?"

Her face fell a little. "No, and I haven't confronted him about his piece on the side." She closed her eyes and breathed softly. "You?"

"Amanda comes home, rests for a couple of days, and is all over me for about two weeks, then asks if she can sleep with Walter after a few days after that. She still claims she's getting him 'out of her system,' but I don't buy that for a minute." I let some of my growing anger leak out into my voice.

Quite indiscreetly, Gretchen took my hand. "So, you still let her fuck you?" Her concern was palpable, and no jealousy I could detect.

I made a face, showing my distaste clearly, I was sure. "Force of habit. She comes home, ready to continue being my wife, rewarding me for letting her fuck your husband. It's like one of those psych experiments where they shock the rat whenever it reaches for a food pellet."

"So, you don't like it with her?"

"No, not anymore." The admission, now that I'd spoken it, nearly bowled me over. "I think of you, pretend it's me inside you when we fuck. She's gotten wilder, and actually deigns to suck my cock now. Pretty sure she's thinking of your husband when she fucks me."

"I think so too." I saw a tear at the corner of her eye, one of sympathy, and I felt momentarily like an ass. Here I was still getting laid by my cheating wife, and Gretchen had only me for intimacy and love. "I'm so in love with you, Dougie. It hurts me to see you hurting this way."

"Thank you." That was the measure of love, I thought. She understood that fucking my wife was now emotionally painful, and felt for me as much as I felt for Gretchen, in her situation. Still, what I had in mind would relieve our pain, I was sure.

We dined on seafood puffs, crab cakes and two Caesar salads, then shared a wonderful lobster fondue, not talking much during the meal. When our eyes met, which was often, I felt a wonderful jolt of sexual electricity run through me, centering at my loins. Gretchen's delicate blush told me she felt the same thing.

The plates were cleared away, and we ordered two decaf coffees. "Baby, I need to tell you something else. Amanda told me what Walter said about you, how he justifies their affair." I related Wednesday night's conversation, gently, trying to take the sting out of the comments, but it wasn't easy.

My lady love's eyes flashed with rage and deep hurt, and I wondered whether Walter was at risk for the same response she had almost given me the weekend we first met. "He called me fat? Fucking frigid?" Her chin was trembling as she fought away a flood of tears.

"And that you watch recordings of him fucking my wife to get yourself off when he's out."

"Fuck. Him." Her voice was quiet, deadly still. She was trembling now, a furious reaction to his most recent betrayal, this time of her reputation.

Taking her hand now, I was glad she didn't snatch it back, and watched her calm down by degrees. "Baby, would you like it if we could be together every night, not just over the weekend Doing it without caring whether they're fucking, or even together?" She nodded, and I outlined my plan.

Afterward, very indiscreetly, she leaned across the table and kissed me on the lips. "Perfect, my love. It will be perfect."

********

The next week, I flew to Seattle on business. Gretchen did also, having arranged to attend some sort of seminar for senior clerical personnel. Both were legitimate business travel, but our nights were wonderfully filled, though we took separate flights each way. Both our companies paid our rooms for three nights, through Saturday morning, and we traded off between the rooms. I paid for Saturday night myself, while the county let her check out of her digs that morning. We didn't care at this point whether our spouses were fucking, or even where, since my home was available in my absence.

Friday evening, Gretchen knocked on my hotel room door, and I looked through the peephole to see her wearing an open robe and an enticing smile, giving me every reason to admit her. She wore nothing underneath it, all the more surprising since her room was one floor down and in another wing. I let her in right away, and she sashayed through the door, after tossing the robe over her shoulder and standing naked in the hallway for a moment.

Once inside, she threw herself into my arms.

"So, how did you manage that without anyone seeing you?"

Her laughter was like brassy chimes. "Who said no-one saw me? I did keep the sash closed, but I felt a lot of stares when I passed by the indoor pool. I thought of getting in the pool so it would be see-through all the way, but it probably would have upset security."

I dispensed with my clothing immediately, and we tumbled into bed again. Nothing made me feel more alive now than my girl's skin against mine, and her mouth or pussy on my cock.

Later, after we dozed off in each other's arms, I heard the door close. It woke me, and sat up, flicking on the lamp at my bedside. Gretchen carried an ice bucket and two bottled sodas. "I got thirsty," was the only explanation she offered.

"You walked down the hall naked?"

"It's after three, baby. Nobody's in the halls, mostly, and I didn't want to take time to pull my robe on."

"Mostly?" My cock twitched at her wicked implication.

"There was a younger couple making out in the hall, and they stopped to watch me walk by and into the vending area. They weren't there when I walked back." I loved that she was loving this, and I tried to remember a time when Amanda had been this playful. Couldn't think of a one.

Gretchen set the bottles in the ice and climbed into bed. "Since we're both awake and still naked, why don't we put our time to good use."

We didn't fall asleep this time until after sunrise.

********

When we got home, we started moving the plan forward. The first part, and I thought maybe the most perilous, was Gretchen's, but she waved my concerns off. She took a sick day the following Tuesday while Walter was at the office, and went into his desk and dresser, searching for the evidence Amanda had told me was there, then elsewhere in the house. She found the flash drives after only an hour. As a former MP, she was adept at criminal investigations, and Walter, as it turned out, hadn't really hidden them that cleverly.

She copied the two flash drives onto the pair she had bought, carefully replacing the originals so it appeared she'd never encountered them. Gretchen had noticed the trace, a slender red thread, that Walter had placed to see whether she'd been in the hiding place, and had replaced that perfectly too. She told me later it was a movie trick, but most people didn't do it right, or well.

After our return from Seattle, I became less interested in sex, or more correctly less interested in accepting the pathetic carnal rewards Amanda dangled in front of me. Pleading fatigue some nights, and working late the others, I let myself drift away from her, emotionally and physically. She seemed relieved I didn't want to fuck nightly anymore. It had all been a show, a reward for my obedience and compliance, cynically granted in exchange for permission to experience another man.

The realization pissed me off, made the distancing easier.

As if by a timetable, three weeks rolled around. Amanda didn't even pretend sexual interest in me now, kept the door locked when showering, shooing me out of our room when she was changing. It dawned on me she told me Gretchen supposedly did exactly that, and I wondered if she felt unattractive now, hoping she felt some sort of loss of self-esteem at her own actions.

This time, she just assumed my compliance, didn't even ask. Her overnight bag was at the door Friday morning, as it always was when she spent the weekend there, with him. Granting me a peck on the cheek, she headed out without a glance back. That, more than anything, sealed the matter.

I called in sick, and waited. Around nine, Gretchen arrived, wearing the same sundress she had worn our second weekend together. It was lemon yellow, with a sedate blue border at the hem, collar and sleeves, and the way it draped easily, betraying no panty lines, made it very clear she wore no bra or panties underneath. I opened the door for her, and she threw her arms around me, three weeks of passionate need flooding out of her, answered by my own hunger. We made out for several minutes before I had the presence of mind to shut the front door the rest of the way.

Nibbling on my earlobe, she whispered hungrily, "I know you've been getting laid, but I need you, Doug."

I stepped back and looked into her eyes, saw the lust shining brilliantly there, and shook my head. "I haven't, not since Seattle. Been shutting her down every night, going to bed early, locking the door when I shower, just like she's done to me."

"So...it's over?"

"Very. Can't even think of being with her now. Only you."

Her lips curled upward, and she placed her palm lovingly on my cheek. "O-okay. I have the flash drives."

"We'll check them out in a little bit. Did you watch them?"

Shaking her head, she looked miserable. "No. I just couldn't, not without you. I've already caught that floor show, and it just..."

I kissed her on the forehead. "I understand. Completely."

"Besides, I need you first, Doug. It's been three weeks. I can't even think straight at this point, and if we're really going to do this, I need a clear head, and I think my pussy juices are all dammed up." She smiled at me. "You need to cum too, and there's no-one else I want but you."

"Me too. We can watch after." Our lips met again, opening again to welcome our tongues. Our hands roamed freely over our clothes, and I lifted the nearly sheer fabric of her dress, trailing my fingers up her thighs, past her bare hips, then cupped her slender buttocks, pulling her up and into me. My dick was still shrouded in my blue jeans, and I pressed it against her pussy, and we moaned together.

Gretchen spread her thighs, and stood humping me, lifting one leg to curl around my back and hold me in place. She smelled of sunflowers and musk, and I wanted her just like she wanted me. Seconds later, with no clear memory of how we managed it, what the transitional steps were to arrive there, but we were on the carpet, my cock pistoning within her, both of us naked and free and making love like it seemed we should have always been doing.

We came hard moments later, and lay there for a while, letting the sun ascend, the shadows on the carpet moving with it.

********

Nestled naked on the couch, Gretchen put her head on my shoulder. The little laptop stand I kept by the couch held my personal laptop, now open and booted up. I inserted the first flash drive, and opened the folder. I selected View Files, and there were one dozen of them, all named "A&W" and a date. All were big video files, and I suspected they were fairly good definition.

I held my breath for a moment, exhaled slowly. This was key to our plan. "Gretchen, are you sure you want to see these?"

She nodded and put one arm around my shoulders. "We both need to see them, know just what they're doing with each other. Evidence."

Her MP mentality was in high gear now. "Baby, are you sure? Really sure? I know this is going to hurt when I watch it..."

"I'll be here for you, Dougie. If I cry, you'll be here for me. I love you and I trust you."

The last three words were even more significant than the first three. I trust you. I didn't know how much I'd wanted to hear those words, and couldn't recall whether Amanda ever said them.

"Okay. Here goes..." I selected the first clip, and double-clicked it. The media window opened up, and I noticed the time and date in the lower left corner. Despite my concern, I felt optimistic that our plan would work, since we probably had a timeline we could use. Again, evidence. My surmise that these were high quality was borne out by the sharp, crisp images.

Walter backed away from the camera, naked, dick at full salute, and I saw my wife on her back in the middle of their bed. Hers was the first voice we heard. "Walter, I'm so ready for you, baby!" She was eager, nearly lost in lust awaiting him.

"Just a minute, sweetheart. I want to line this up perfectly." The image was above normal eye level, certainly on a table or dresser, and he moved aside. There she was, clear as day, He walked over to the bed and climbed onto it, then onto her. Amanda spread her legs, then pulled her knees almost up to her chin.