Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 07: Complicity

Her lover wasn't even thirty yet and she was over fifty - my age to within a few weeks! I gave them no more than six more months together but her situation reinforced what I already knew; that I was incredibly lucky to be married to a man who would allow me to have the best of both worlds - great sex with other men and a steady family relationship at the same time.

Julie had felt she had to choose between them. That's if her head had been involved in the decision at all. In truth, even for someone who knew her well, Julie's behaviour had been baffling. As well as pretty, she was and is a very intelligent and educated woman. I couldn't imagine what had made her do such an unwise thing.

She was paying a high price for her decision. Her kids were pretty much the same ages as ours but didn't like going home to see their Mum when her boyfriend was there. He was only a few years older than her children after all and was in many ways less mature. This meant they stayed away most of the time.

Although her young lover still had a flat, he mostly lived with Julie in the family home. To avoid meeting him, her kids preferred to stay with their father in his apartment despite the lack of room, hence my not being able to meet Tony over Christmas.

I shuddered; I couldn't bear it if our three children avoided seeing me. Even the greatest of sex couldn't be worth that!

Whatever the reason, Julie was definitely trying to get back into her husband's life but told me he had made it clear that he wasn't interested yet. I knew from Tony that this was true but from his tone of voice I suspected she would have eventually humiliated herself in public enough for him to forgive her and go back to her.

I was sure Tony still loved her even if, right then, he didn't like her much.

Julie's sexual antics were well known around our circle of friends. They had attracted envy in some quarters but unease in most. After all, if her marriage could break down in such a spectacular way, perhaps no marriage was safe.

What would happen to her husband's relationship with me if they did get back together could only be guessed, but if Julie's story was to be believed, I had a good few months in which to worry about that.

The thought went round and round my mind as I drove myself home afterwards.

***

Thursday, the day of my next Official Date arrived and, as on the Monday before, it passed painfully slowly. Even the distractions of the hospital couldn't keep my mind from drifting and I kept checking the condition of my hickey in the mirror when alone. As a souvenir, it was surprisingly powerful; reminding me of my new Hotwife status and what I hoped awaited me in Tony's apartment that very evening.

It's fortunate that as a scientist rather than a physician, I have few actual patients of my own or they would have felt a bit neglected.

But eventually it was time to go. I covered the journey home in record time and, after drawing me a bath, Pete helped me get dressed again. This time, as well as more of the recently-bought lingerie, I chose a short, figure-hugging skirt, dark tights with knee high boots, a long jumper and a leather jacket.

Still sexy but less intimidatingly formal, I hoped. And a lot warmer too!

Even Pete's pre-date hand-job passed off successfully this time. There were no problems with his erection that night and although it was messy, I rather enjoyed the novelty of watching and making him cum using my hands alone.

I had seldom seen my husband ejaculate - as I have explained, I have always had 'bit of a thing' about my lovers cumming inside me; for me it's the only way any form of sex should ever end - so the volume of semen as it spurted over his toned tummy took me by surprise, as did the intensity of my husband's climax.

At the appointed hour, Pete drove me round to Tony's flat once more. Although he was still very much upset, this time his excitement was much more visible too though I noticed his knuckles were still white as I closed the door behind me and buzzed my way into the apartment block.

When I entered the flat, there was a lot less tension between Toy and me too. Both of us were much more relaxed, the awkwardness of our previous date had gone and the whole thing was much, much more sexually oriented. I'm embarrassed to say that Tony and I were making love in the lounge within twenty minutes of my walking through the door. I hadn't even had a chance to take my top off!

Fortunately my online friend Richard had been right; Tony didn't care about the bite mark Pete had given me, though if anything it was more noticeable than before. He thought it was sweet, kissed me there many times and we laughed about it.

He even threatened to 'balance me out' by giving me another on the other side but I told him I could do more damage to him from where my mouth was so he'd better get that thought out of his mind straight away. As my lips were actually around the head of his cock at the time, he had every reason to listen to me!

After 'Round One' on Tony's sofa, we ordered in pizza and lay there together watching a film on DVD. It was one of my favourites and made us both laugh. It was a wonderful close couple of hours; I wore nothing but one of Tony's old rugby shirts and he was in his bathrobe. We smooched and kissed and fondled each other throughout the film which was wonderful at the time but gave me some misgivings later.

When the film ended I was so aroused by his wandering fingers that Tony had to take me straight into the bedroom and make love to me again. This time it started very caring and loving but built quickly to something that frightened me and probably scared tony too.

For me there is a startling level of arousal that I have heard called a 'breeding frenzy'. According to my online researches (and the two close female friends with whom I had discussed it), it's something many women experience; a complete and total - almost primeval abandonment to the physical need to be inseminated.

I knew from past experience that it could happen to me with or without orgasm but could be equally overwhelming either way. I had only reached this level of arousal a handful of times, and those moments had been some twenty years ago when Pete and I had actually been 'trying for a baby'.

When I had gone into that wild, almost feral mode, something deep within me had taken over; I seemed to throw all sense of propriety or self-respect to the winds and made loud, passionate and often vulgar demands on my lover. In the 'breeding frenzy', all I wanted was to have a man fuck me as hard as he could; to dominate me; to hurt me sexually; to cum deep inside me and for me to be impregnated by him.

And in the frenzy I told him so in no uncertain terms!

Given the opportunity, I suspect I wouldn't be too fussed which man it was so it was very fortunate that only my husband and one previous boyfriend had ever seen it!

When it had first happened, Pete had been stunned. I had come off the pill a month before and we were trying to make me pregnant with our first child. Something about the time, the place, my partner and above all, the purpose of our copulation had increased my arousal to a level I had never encountered before. As he thrust into me, Pete was as stunned as was I at the words that escaped my lips and the wild, uncontrolled energy I had been helpless to prevent putting into our lovemaking.

I had discovered I was pregnant soon afterwards.

That evening, for the first time in over twenty years, it happened again. As Tony fucked me on his bed that second time, pinning me spread-legged to the mattress, his thick stubby cock stretching me so tightly that it actually hurt, the sexual beast buried deep within me for so long broke out noisily, energetically and uncontrollably.

I wailed and howled beneath him, using every four letter word that came into my mind, raking his shoulders, back and buttocks with my fingernails and sinking my teeth into his forearms either side of my shoulders.

Though clearly taken aback, Tony soldiered on, thrusting over and over again into my wildly thrashing, pulsating body in as close to a rhythm as my convulsions and exclamations would allow. My memories are naturally fuzzy but at one point I could hear myself begging him to knock me up; to make a baby in me!

The pleasure and emotion were so intense that I came close to fainting and was in floods of angry, baby-crazed tears by the time Tony's cock pumped its second load of semen into my pulsating vagina.

After two decades of monogamy, I had all but forgotten about this long-past but still frightening side to my sex drive. I was a middle-aged professional woman, a mother of three grown up children about to embark on the dreaded menopause. This wasn't supposed to happen; women like me weren't supposed to get this badly out of control. It shocked and unnerved me considerably.

Naturally I was terribly embarrassed afterwards, ashamed and more than a little disgusted with myself. The old-fashioned words 'will you still respect me' came flooding into my mind along with the after-shocks of the multiple orgasms that had accompanied my loss of control.

I'm sure it shocked Tony too but he was too much a gentleman to say anything. However he felt inside, he behaved impeccably, taking me in his arms as if nothing unusual had happened, kissing me gently and holding me tightly as the tears rolled down my cheeks and the trembling slowly faded.

***

Half an hour later, all I wanted to do was go to sleep in his arms with his seed deep inside me. But that would have betrayed my husband; I had to go home.

I dressed, still shaking a little while Tony cleared up the dinner plates giving me a little privacy. Once I felt brave enough, Tony reluctantly escorted me to the door, kissed me in the darkness of the stairwell before letting me out into the cold night air. Its effect was immediate and reviving; as I crossed the tarmac I began to feel more and more in control again.

Pete's Porsche was waiting in a discreet corner of the car park. I opened the passenger door and slipped inside, wondering what state he would be in this time. Though pale and shaking, I was pleased to see him much more composed than after my first date and when he saw how exhausted I was, he held back on his questioning.

We drove home in near-silence but the tension between us was at least as sexual as it was angry or jealous. This time I had remembered not to have a shower before dressing. This was definitely a good move; half way home Pete whispered that I smelled of 'sex and sweat' which judging by his tone of voice was a good thing.

When we got to our bedroom, Pete made me take off my tights and skirt and sit back on the bed, spreading my legs wide so he could see the 'scene of the crime' while he asked me all about my date. He announced that I was gaping even wider than before. I told him what had happened honestly and in detail which he seemed to love, though he looked a little alarmed when I described how the 'breeding frenzy' had struck again.

My online friends had been so right about being open and honest. Despite having been unfaithful once again, despite having my lover's fluids still within my body, telling Pete the unadulterated truth made me feel strangely clean.

Knowing I had no deep secrets from my husband made all the difference. It clearly made all the difference to him too and as he stripped off my few remaining clothes quickly and roughly, I put up no resistance. This time there was enough evidence of infidelity inside my panties and on my body to satisfy even Pete's fantasies.

There was no second hickey to balance the first but there were small teeth marks around my left boob and of course my vulva was puffy and distended with, according to Pete, just a tiny amount of semen oozing from it.

Though sore and tired, I knew I had to let my husband take me too and in any way he wanted. As before, that turned out to be rough. Pete fucked me with at least as much passion as he had on Monday night, hammering into my loose, well-used vagina with an energy bordering on violence. I was too exhausted to reach a proper orgasm this time but nevertheless could feel something building within me that was very pleasant if less intense.

I could see tears in his eyes and a look of pain mixed with joy on his face as Pete eventually added his semen to whatever remained of Tony's in my vagina. I was too tired to do anything but lie there and let him get on with it but fortunately that seemed to satisfy him.

In his passion, Pete bit me on the boob this time. Now I had a large mark alongside my right nipple to match the one on my left from Tony and the hickey on my neck. I should have been angry with both my lovers but something within me quite liked the idea of a man wanting me so much he felt he had to mark me as his own.

It would act as a souvenir for the next couple of weeks before I could see Tony again.

Assuming my husband agreed of course. I had an increasing feeling that he would!

***

When I got up on Friday morning I found Pete had done all the washing and ironing the night before. He had got up early to set the table with croissants for breakfast - another favourite of mine - and there was a single red rose in a vase next to my place.

It would have been a perfect start to the day if my vulva hadn't been so sore when I sat down.

The working day passed quickly for a change, my concentration only occasionally being broken by the aches, pains and soreness that provided a periodic reminder of my wickedness. During these moments however, a slight unease came into my otherwise strong and erotic memories of the evening, centring around a concern that Pete might be getting too upset during the date itself.

On advice from my online friends (and to his obvious delight) I had banned him from masturbation while I was with Tony and he was forbidden access to my body for three days prior to my dates. Doing the housework could only have been a way of keeping himself occupied and I didn't want him to feel humiliated in that way. I wondered how other cuckolds kept themselves occupied during their wives' dates. I most certainly didn't want my loving husband to suffer - well, to suffer more than he wanted to!

I resolved to ask my online friends for their advice but there was no great rush; there were nearly two weeks of festivities ahead of me in which seeing Tony would be difficult. I proposed to spend them enjoying as normal a Christmas as possible, putting my Hotwife lifestyle on hold and reverting to being a Mum for a while.

It was time for a period of normality; time to get a bit more perspective on it all.

***

We enjoyed a lovely pre-Christmas dinner-party with our social group the following evening. It had become a tradition that we all met for dinner just before Christmas and for years we had taken turns to cook and play host. It wasn't our turn this year, thank Goodness and I have to say it was great fun. There was more than a little booze consumed but we all took taxis in both directions like grown-ups should.

The evening had been poignant in several ways, the most obvious being that we were a group of ten that night when in almost all previous years we had been twelve. The missing two were of course, Tony and Julie. Both had been invited but perhaps sensibly both had declined. For me that had been a relief; I wasn't sure I could have coped with Tony and Pete being in the same room when our new lifestyle was all still so new and unfamiliar.

The whole scandal of Julie and her young man came up often and with some relish. Most of us had tried not to take sides in the split-up but you could tell there was almost universal sympathy for Tony, 'the poor man' and a mixture of shock, disgust and envy for his slut of a wife.

I tried hard not to say anything; after all, I was in no position to pass judgement on anyone. Fortunately, because Julie and I were very close, my relative silence was put down to a desire not to denigrate my friends rather than any guilty sympathy.

Despite our best efforts, Pete and I couldn't avoid exchanging meaningful glances over our meals when Tony's name came up and it made me think that, if Pete wasn't such an extraordinarily understanding - and perhaps perverted man when it came to me and sex, after my initial affair there could easily have been two more empty seats at that table.

Yet again I realised how lucky I was to have him as a husband.

I must say I had seldom seen Pete looking so happy or behaving as cheerfully as he did that night. He had never been a particularly outgoing person but seemed to have found a whole new spring in his step since I became his unfaithful Hotwife. He seemed so obviously content with life and almost embarrassingly proud of me that I felt like blushing.

What's more, he had been going to the gym more often too, had started running again and, though these were still early days, was looking increasingly good himself. He spent a considerable amount of the evening flirting with the two girls on either side of him; friends that we had known for years. At first they seemed taken aback by this change in personality but I noticed were soon enjoying themselves and returning the flirty behaviour with interest.

Ridiculously, this made me feel a bit jealous by the time coffee was served but Pete's frequent winks and the touch of his foot on my leg under the table helped me remain calm and happy, especially as the old friend on my right seemed to have developed a hitherto unsuspected ability to flirt with me too.

"Well what did you expect?" my husband asked later as we sat close together in the back seat of the taxi on our way home.

I had told him about the unexpectedly forward behaviour of my dinner companion. Pete's voice was amused, his hand was on my thigh and he was gradually working his fingers upwards toward my groin, hoping I was too tipsy to notice.

I hadn't had so much to drink that I would miss an obvious sexual advance like that, but I had drunk enough not to mind. I decided to let it happen and enjoy it.

"I mean, dressed like that someone was bound to flirt with you!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, pushing his fingers back towards my knee but not off my leg altogether.

"You've never worn a dress that short before. Thank God you were wearing tights and not stockings!"

I thought for a moment then a strange feeling passed through my tummy. Pete was quite right; without thinking, I had donned one of my new shorter dresses, one that he and I had chosen for my dates with Tony and which barely covered my bottom. It was only because of the cold weather that I had opted for tights instead of stockings - indeed at one point I had laid out my suspender belt ready to put on but had changed my mind at the last minute, thank God!

It simply hadn't crossed my mind that this wasn't my usual style of dress or that it would raise a few eyebrows among our friends. I was horrified.

"Oh my God! Why didn't you say anything before we left home?" I demanded angrily. "Have I made a fool of myself?"

"No! No, of course you haven't!" Pete immediately replied, grabbing my hand, "You looked absolutely amazing; you still do, Penn! Really sexy!"

There was a pause as the taxi rumbled onwards. Then I felt Pete take my hand in his and squeeze it.

"I don't think you realise how sexy you've become since... well, probably since you first fucked Tony. Couldn't you tell all the men were looking at you? All the women were too if it comes to that!"

"Really?" I asked, horrified. "What on earth will they think? We've known all of them for years; do you think they could tell?"

Pete laughed and whispered in my ear.

"Don't be silly, Penny! You don't have a sign around your neck with 'Hotwife' or 'Slut' written on it! Only three people on earth know how we've chosen to live our life. All anyone saw tonight was a truly gorgeous woman dressed sexily for a Christmas party."