Pillow Talk, Not Just Pillow Talk

"What about Ron?"

"What about Ron?"

Already defensive in her body language, guilty as charged, if I had her on the witness stand, I'd win a conviction. In the way she returned my inquiry, at the very least, I knew that there was some hot pillow talk attached to his name with that question.

"Would you do him?"

"Are you asking me if I'd have sex with Ron?"

"Yes."

"He's my best friend's husband. No, I wouldn't do—"

"You had opportunity."

"What do you mean?" Then, she looked at me and laughed and I couldn't tell if it was a laugh of nervousness of a laugh of ridiculousness that she'd never fool around with her best friend's husband. "You sound like the lawyer that you are. Next, you'll be telling me that I had motive, too," she said laughing again. "And his oozing cock was the smoking gun," she said with more laughter.

Only, what she said wasn't that funny to inspire such raucous roar of laughter. Now I knew that her laughter was her nervous reaction to cover up the fact that she had sex with Ron. I had cross examined enough witnesses on the stand to tell a lie from the truth and Gloria was being coyly deceptive. I know Gloria well enough to trust her and well enough to know when she's hiding something. Definitely, she was hiding something seemingly so small, as small as six inches, that could potentially loom so big over the direction that our relationship would take.

"Now that I think about it, we've had plenty of drunken pool parties where you were alone in the house with Ron. Last month, when you went in the house with him to—"

"And you were alone with Sheila."

As if asking me not to go there, begging my indulgence but without asking me for my forgiveness, she looked at me with questioning eyes. Excited by the thought of an open marriage, but reticent to continue, we were quickly moving beyond pillow talk. We both knew that if we opened this door, a door we could never again close, we were opening the door to allow others into our marriage. The dialogue we were about to have now was a big, first step to having sex with others. It's one thing to have an affair, but it's quite another thing to have multiple affairs with the knowledge and the complicity of your spouse, while affording her approval to do the same.

"Yes, but we were in the pool, in sight of you and Ron from the house," I said saying so much in the way of a verbal chess match.

"You were hidden in the dark, deep end of the pool with Sheila, Paul. I'd have to turn on the security lights to see you two," she said with her typically defiant attitude that told me that not only told me that she was hiding something but also that I needed to back off. Only, I was too sexually excited to do that, just yet.

"It doesn't matter. We were still out in the open and you were in the house with Ron and out of sight from me and Sheila," I said giving her a questioning look. "You two could have been doing anything...and everything."

"How dare you? You don't hear me asking you about what you did with Sheila. I trust you and I trust her with you. Don't you trust me?"

By knocking me off balance with the issue of trust, putting me on the defensive, I was certain she was hiding her affair with Ron. Even though trust has all to do with the pillow talking game, trust has nothing to do with what we were discussing now. Surely, the issue of trust wouldn't raise its ugly head again, until when we were mired deep in the swinging lifestyle and trusting one another not to fall in love with someone else. This is the time when we needed to ratchet up the dialogue and not water it down with issues of trust and fidelity. Yet, to correctly play the game of pillow talk, we needed to trust one another to not use whatever confessions against the confessor.

Now, if we're talking lust, then we're both guilty of that, her with Ron and me with Sheila. Lust always trumps issues of trust. Nonetheless, I persisted in my cross examination of my witness. I needed to know where we were going with this and how far our vows of holy matrimony would stretch before snapping.

"Did he try anything?"

"Did she try anything?" She looked up at me and smiled again. "Or, more appropriately, did you try anything with her?"

Tit for tat, so that's her defense. She was an equal adversary when it came to pillow talk, only, with her being a woman and me being a man, I was at the disadvantage when talking about wanting to have sex with others versus actually having sex with others. Now, I was positive that something happened between Gloria and Ron, only she wanted me to go first before admitting anything. Okay, I can play that game.

Carefully walking on thin ice, it was exciting not knowing the boundaries and where exactly to step to not fall in deep, frigid waters. I wondered what she did, as much as I wondered if I should confess what Sheila and I did in the pool. Throwing it out there, hoping that there was enough sexual fodder in our hot pillow to support me, I took a cautious first step.

"We had some touchy feely fun in the pool. We both had too much to drink," I said guarded, not sure how much to admit and covering it up with the excuse of alcohol, until I knew it'd be received well and reciprocated in kind.

"Define touchy feely," she said.

Clarification is good. Only, it could be taken negatively, as much as it could be a positive. The way she said it, cold and detached, made me reticent to continue along this treacherous path and I couldn't help but feel I was talking myself into a trap.

Excited by what I did with Sheila and more excited by what she may have done with Ron, suddenly, unable to read her and afraid of the repercussions of confessing to Gloria that I felt up her best friend, here goes nothing. Hopefully, it will all be good. Hopefully, I won't be served with a subpoena from, yet, another divorce attorney in the morning. Hopefully, Gloria is not working with Sheila to set me up for a divorce and this admission of infidelity will culminate in some hot sex with Gloria and with our friends, I enjoyed imagining, along with even more pillow talk. At the very least, if nothing else was to happen, we're having some hot pillow talk now.

"I may have felt her tits and her ass," I said not taking another self-incriminating step forward until I read her reaction, but there was none.

"Did she feel your cock?"

A prerequisite before asking if we had sex, by asking me if Sheila felt my cock made me suspect that she did more than just feel Ron's cock. Again, she asked the question without emotion and I couldn't tell if she was angry, jealous, hurt or excited. Not knowing if these were shark infested waters, I didn't want to get in over my head, just yet, but I needed to know how far I could go from the safe harbor of our marriage without drifting too far out to sea to not be able to swim myself back in her good graces. Nonetheless, I was already in deep, nearly up to my neck, and continued wading out deeper in uncharted waters. I figured I'd trust myself to the current situation and just go with the flow.

"She may have felt my cock...I don't remember. I was drunk," I said looking at her to see how the information of feeling up her friend and with her feeling my cock was received.

"Knowing you and your need for sexual stimulation, I should think that Sheila feeling your cock would make more of a lasting memory," she said with a smug laugh. "I'm sure you've masturbated to the thoughts of what you two did in the pool already."

Meanwhile, as if she was preoccupied with what I had said I had done with Sheila, or by the thoughts of what she had done with Ron, Gloria started giving me a slow hand job again and I took that as a good sign. If she was pissed, certainly, she'd let go of my cock. If she was pissed, before letting go of my cock, she'd give my balls a good squeeze.

"I remember you and Ron being alone in the house for a long time while making drinks. Did he try anything," I asked again?

She stopped stroking me and met my question with her silent stare. With her silence already an admission of guilt, I waited for her to speak. I was excited by the thoughts of her and Ron doing something inappropriate. The thought of him touching her and she touching him, filled me with passion for her. I was excited by the thoughts of Gloria confessing in great detail exactly what they did and how she felt doing it with him.

"I can't recall. We may have had some touchy feely in the kitchen," she said with a sly smile. "I don't remember. Much like we all were, I was a bit inebriated, too, you know."

No fucking way. My imagination was running wild with my pulse and heartbeat. I was excited that she was playing the game, too. Suddenly, I imagined Ron's horny hands touching Gloria everywhere, exploring her big fake tits and feeling her firm sculptured ass, before fingering her wet pussy. Only, did this really happen or was she making it up and just telling me what I wanted to hear?

I couldn't tell. Yet, what did it matter? It was the pillow talk that I wanted to hear. It was the pillow talk that I needed to get aroused. Imagined or real, it was the pillow talk that was going to get me off and not the dirty deed. If they did have sex, the confessed experience of it would only climax into having even more pillow talk.

"Define touchy feely," I said, as unemotionally detached as she was, when asking me her questions.

I was trying to play it cool, but I was a horny wreck. It took all the control that I had not to take her that very second and show her my passion. I was so hot for her. Yet, stopping the pillow talk now would shut the door to it for good perhaps, and I needed to capitalize on this moment of weakness. I needed to know what happened. I needed her to tell me. I needed her to confess. I needed to continue with the pillow talk. I needed to not only know how far she had gone with Ron but also I needed to know how far she'd allow me to go with Sheila and how far she'd go with others.

With the quick progression of this pillow talk, the best we ever had, wild ideas took control of my passion. Suddenly, I thought about stripping her naked before tying her to the bed, blindfolding her, and turning off the lights. One by one, I'd invite a procession of my friends to do whatever they wanted to her naked body, so long as they didn't hurt her. A circle jerk of open sexuality, I imagined her blowing one, while jerking off another, and fucking a third man, with the rest watching and waiting for their turn.

"Now that I recall, he may have felt my tits and my ass."

I couldn't help but imagine Ron pawing my wife. I had visions of him feeling her tits and her ass. I was jealous. I was angry. I was excited that Ron felt up Gloria and that she allowed him to have his way with her body.

'Until death do you part,' my wife was no longer the pure virginal bride dressed in white in Bride's Magazine, not that she ever was or needed to be with me. She was just as soiled and just as dirty as I was in our need for sexual exploration and sensual excitement. It was obvious that we had the same sexual urges that we needed to experience with others and, as long as it was okay with her, it was okay with me.

No longer her one and only, no longer faithful to me, she had sex with another man and I wanted to slap her. I wanted to call her a slut. I wanted to control her. I wanted to tear off her clothes and fuck her, only she was already naked. I wanted to have hot sex with her, while she whispered every little dirty detail of what happened between her and Ron. Besides, slapping her would only excite her and put her in the mood for more, no doubt.

She liked being slapped around, but I was too tired. Not tonight. Yet, I was never too tired for some hot pillow talk, though. The pillow talk is what excited me. The pillow talk is what I needed right now and what I wanted, especially after hearing that she and Ron had crossed the line and made a sexual connection. It made me hard to think about her with him and I was excited to know that my wife shared the same sexual desires for Ron that I had for Sheila.

"Did you feel his cock?"

"I may have...I don't remember," she said with a wry smile. "We were both very drunk."

"Knowing you and your need for sexual stimulation, I should think that you feeling Ron's cock would make more of a lasting memory. Tit for tat," I said with the return of her smug laugh.

"I dare say, that me feeling a man's cock means more to you than it does to me," she said teasing and taunting me with her words, as much as her sexy smile, she still avoided answering the question. "It's only a cock."

Ouch! Touché. Oh, she's a sly one, this one. Only, two can play this game. That's right, slow it down. The game is better when dragged out a bit, in the way she's doing it now.

I loved it when she teased me. I loved it that we were on the same page with the pillow talk. Only, the old double standard reared its ugly head. She just admitted that she cheated on me with her best friend's husband. Yeah, so what, I cheated on her with her best friend, too, but that's expected with guys. Guys are low down, dirty dogs and she's still pedestal worthy, even if she's fallen off a few times and gotten a bit dirty. I prefer dirty women to clean, self-righteous ones. Then, I wondered who else my slut wife has slept with and fucked and sucked besides Ron.

My mind was a blur with all the times she was out of my sight while I was working. Was she having someone over the house? I wondered about that time she came home late from the mall telling me that her car had a flat when her car has run flat tires, but I trusted her not to cheat on me, at least, not to cheat on me without telling me all about it.

Now, I wondered about that time she went away overnight with Sheila. She said she was going home to visit her mother. Was she really with Sheila? If she wasn't, then who was she with? Did she visit her mother? If she didn't, then where did she go? Was she lying and using Sheila to cover up that she was having an affair? Maybe she was with Sheila. Maybe she and Sheila were having an affair with one another. Damn.

Suddenly, the thoughts of Gloria licking Sheila's pussy and Sheila licking Gloria's pussy were surpassed by the three of us having a threesome. I wouldn't mind Ron joining in on the fun, too. I was barely able to handle Gloria, forget about two women. I'd have to take a Cialis and not drink that night and take a break to catch my breath, while watching the women party.

Now that I think about it, when we took a cruise last year, she was always above deck, while I gambled below. Detracted from playing my hand, I wondered where she was and what she was doing. She said she was walking the deck for the fresh air and exercise. Wearing her pearls and diamonds, who walks the deck in a ball gown?

Maybe she was with someone. Maybe she was doing one of the hired help in our cabin or in his cabin. I'm going to have to keep a closer eye on her, especially after this latest round of pillow talk. I made a note to confront her later about some of my suspicions, while hoping for more of this hot pillow talk.

With our first pool party officially over and the summer lovin' pillow talking season now officially open, I was excited to know what exactly she and Ron did, while in the house alone. Let the pillow talking games begin.

"Did you take his cock out? Did you hold it in your hand? Did you stroke him? Did you look at it? Did you give him a hand job? Did he cum? Did you blow him? Did he cum in your mouth? Did you swallow? Did he fuck you? Tell me everything."

"Hey, slow down sailor," she said sitting up in bed. "You know if we continue down this road, there's no turning back. Once we admit to our dirty deeds, we must—"

"I know," I said.

Suddenly feeling glum that our monogamous relationship would never be the same, while suspecting that it was never a monogamous relationship, especially knowing what I did on my part with my secretary and with others, I was so excited to know what she did and with whom she did it with that it didn't matter. This was the serious next step in our sexual relationship and she was right, there was no turning back once starting down this winding and bumpy sexual road filled with the potholes and the pitfalls of bringing others into our bed.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes. I'm fine with taking this pillow talk to the next step. I need to know. I can do this if you're game."

"And if I tell you anything, you can't use it against me later. Even when angry with me, you can't throw it up in my face and call me a slut." She looked at me and pointed a finger, "Because if you do, I'll never play this game again. Moreover, I won't tell you anything else ever. I'll never trust you with anything, so personal and so private again."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Swear on your mother's grave."

"I swear on your mother's grave," I said with a smile.

"Smart ass."

"I swear on my mother's grave," I said laughing.

"You first," she said with her grin of victory, again.

"What do you mean?"

"Tell me what you did with Sheila and I'll tell you what I did with Ron."

"So, you admit that you did do something with Ron?"

"Paul? You're not playing the game correctly."

"I already told you what I did with Sheila," I said returning her questioning stare with a determined look. "I finally cornered her in the dark, deep end of the pool. I had been trying to get her alone for two years. I felt her tits and ass and she felt my cock. Game over. It was all very innocently and hardly worth mentioning. Now, tell me what you did with Ron."

"Hardly worth mentioning my ass," she said with a knowing smile. "I don't believe that's all you did? I know you and I know Sheila. Sheila is as proud of her body and as eager to flash her tits as I am."

"Wait, what was that about you flashing your tits? Have you flashed your tits to men?"

"I may have flashed my breasts to a few men."

"Oh, my God," I said rubbing my hands together. "This is getting good. Who? Where? When? Tell me everything, every little dirty detail about you flashing your boobs."

"Let's focus back on Sheila, and then you can ask me who may have seen my tits later."

"So, you showed Ron your tits?"

"Paul, I mean it, if you're not going to play the game right, then I won't continue playing," she said giving me the same look that my mother used to give me when I peeped on her through the keyhole, while she changed her clothes. "Now, tell me what you did with Sheila."

"Seriously, that was it, I swear. I felt her up and she felt my cock," I said giving her my most trustworthy look. "Now, tell me what you did with Ron."

"Oh, no, not so fast, buddy boy. Just as you need hot pillow talk to get you aroused, I do, too. Did you feel her tits through her bikini top or did you take them out."

"I felt them through her bikini top, before I reach inside and fingered her nipples," I said and continued when she gave me that raised eyebrow look. "And before I took them out," I said, suddenly getting excited over thinking about feeling Sheila's magnificent but phony tits again while kissing her.

"Did you really feel them or just kind of grope them?"

"Did I really feel them? Yeah, I really felt them. Of course," I said smiling, while holding up my hands to her as if I was feeling tits. "My hands were all over those silicon babies. Your doctor is an amazing artist. I'm a fan. Suffice to say that I was just admiring his sexy artwork," I said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, well, you have the original Rembrandts here beside you," she said with a laugh, while pushing her big tits in my ribs. "You really don't need a reproduction." She made eye contact before asking her next question. "Did you suck them?"

"Yes," I said. "You can't just touch and not taste. It's rude."