She Brings Home Her College Roomate

My wife, Angie, and I (Dave) were sexually very simpatico. Sex 3 times a week was considered almost obligatory, although never treated as a duty that had to be performed. We were just into our 2nd year of marriage and enjoying most of the things in married life. The usual nitpicky complaints, but nothing very bothersome. We both made good enough money, she as manager of a high end cosmetics store and me running my own stamp collector's shop on Market Street...not many of those left in town so I turned a decent profit.

We had never talked about our respective sex lives that we had before meeting each other, but it was just understood they we were both pretty active. We were definitely "liberal" in the morality sense of that word. Especially Angie, I kind of thought.

Anyway, today she came home with a man she had run into downtown. She introduced him to me as having been her roommate at Texas U. His name was Clark Deering, and he appeared to be a nice enough fellow, big chested and rugged complected with dirty blond hair. That is a color shade, not a commentary on his cleanliness.

I never knew anything about my wife having had a male roommate! Nope, never came up once. Oh, she probably mentioned the word roommate a few times, but that is one of those nouns that does not have an obvious gender. I now seemed to recall a certain aura of intimacy when she had mentioned that her 'roommate' and she had done something or another...going to the movies or out to dinner...one time even spending part of her spring break with her roomie's family in Petaluma.

Angie explained to me that, after they had stumbled upon each other, the two of them had a few drinks downtown to talk about the old days. Then she managed to talk him into coming home with her to meet her husband.

Clark and my wife reminisced in front of me, and it rather soon became clear that they had not only been roommates, but bedmates at TU. As I pieced together the drift of their recollections, they had been dating other people but sharing a bed. A couple of details made it quite clear that they had been having sex with each other on a regular basis.

Not wanting to be privy to this bullshit, I chose to excuse myself and went to the kitchen to start preparing the goulash and salad we had decided upon. I know, that doesn't sound like much of a repast for company, but my culinary skills were not anything to boast about. There was a wedge of nice blue cheese and some celery in the fridge to round it out. I had volunteered to do that since my wife was clearly getting a bit tipsy to take on the task.

But I really didn't want to lose out on this window into her past love life so, as I went into the kitchen, I instantly opened up the heater vents from the kitchen through to our living room. I could hear every word they exchanged, so long as I didn't bang the dishware too much.

"How come you never ended up with that Betsy you were so hot and heavy with?" I heard my wife ask him.

"Don't you remember, hon? She broke up with me shortly after I took you home with me that spring."

"Ohhh, I just took that as a lover's spat, not a permanent breakup."

"Oh, God no Ang. She was furious about me choosing to take my roommate home over her. I confess, she pissed me off with her possessive attitude, but I realized then that Betsy had bought our bullshit about you and I being platonic roommates. He, he, pretty much like I guess your parents did. Snicker."

"My folks only had one double bed in their guest room," he said. "When I told them I was bringing my roommate they said 'fine' and when I told them it was a girl, mom said 'holy shit'. I don't think I'd ever heard mom say the S word before. We wrangled it out, mom was not about to give up on having her son home and would have let us fuck on the front couch if that was what I wanted."

"As you will surely recall, Clark, we did fuck almost every night on that trip."

"Oh, God, yes, Hon. But we did do it super quietly, and NEVER on the couch!" he said. "But my parents are simple country folks with no idea of modern attitudes in the city...they bought it when I explained to them that kids at college would often share a bed as an economic necessity, without even thinking about having sex.

"I confessed to them that you and I were already sharing a bed at State and that I thought it might lead to something permanent after graduation. Mother heard wedding bells in the background, I guess, and treated us like engaged boyfriend and girlfriend the whole trip."

I could clearly hear my wife opening another bottle of wine and, presumably, sharing it. From the directional changes in their voices, it seemed like they had moved to the couch together. Nothing that immediately alarmed liberal old me.

They were getting visibly tipsy to the point that Angie got up from the couch beside me and skipped over to plop herself in Clark's lap on the big rocker. He seemed fine with that bit of intimacy and his large hands gradually got more and more free with my wife's midsection. Neither seemed shy about what they were doing right there in front of me. Clark's brown eyes glanced my way a few times, but I would not let him see any sign of concern on my part.

Only after his hand firmly grabbed one of her breasts and gave it a visible squeeze did I raise a theatrical eyebrow for my wife to see. "Oh, for Pete's sake Dave," she scolded. "He knows these breasts better than you do. He could never leave them alone and I was not allowed to even cover them up while we were in our room. He fell asleep with one of them in his mouth more nights than not...so just cool it."

At that point Angie made a production of counting something on her fingers and then saying, "Husband, I'm sure my old roomie has fucked me more often that you have. If you count his falling asleep with his cock up my butt, then for sure he wins the contest since you have never liked that all that much. Right, Clark?"

He looked almost white-faced in embarrassment, and she finally realized the wine was getting to her. "Sorry, sweetheart." Angie said, but neither of the guys was quite sure who she was addressing that to. They both silently hoped that she was not openly calling her old sweetheart 'sweetheart'.

Angie held her glass firmly as she struggled her way up off of Clark and got to her feet. She grabbed for his hand and pulled to indicate she wanted him to rise. "Get up, honey...oops, I mean get up from the chair, not this other thing..." she said as she snickered and patted her hand on the lump in his fly. She staggered just slightly as she tugged in the direction of the back of their apartment. "I want to give you the whole house tour."

I had seen the whole house plenty of times, but I felt compelled to follow them J.I.C. My wife tugged his hand up over her shoulder and he did not resist, moving his hand in the proffered direction and, it appeared from behind them, grabbing hold of that same breast again; well possibly it was an altogether different breast, but her little giggle made it clear it was one of her most sensitive tits.

As they walked into the back hallway, Angie giggled again and put her hand on the back of his grasping mitt to pull it tighter to her bosom. "Fuck, I've missed you, Clark Deering. We have a LOT to make up for."

He didn't reply, but simply bent over to take her ear into his mouth and loudly suck on it. "He, he, what the fuck are you doing to my ear, my love? I have about 15 other body parts I need you to suck on before my fucking EARS."

He laughed as he spit out her wet ear. "You're saying the word 'fuck' a lot all of a sudden, my love. But I want you to name those 15 parts and I will see if your husband will allow me to suck on them."

"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, do you think my dear husband has anything to say 'bout my body parts? I married this adorable man, love, I didn't sell him my body. It's on loan to you Mr. Deering, for so long as I can get you to stay with us."

He stopped their stroll, spun her around to face him, put a hand down between the legs in her shorts and pulled her up into a passionate kiss. He sucked her tongue half way out of her mouth and manhandled her pussy, while standing two steps in front of me, the wide-eyed husband.

He glanced back at me and said, "Sorry man, you heard me trying to give you some say in events, but I am taking orders from a different voice, and it looks like I am going to be seriously fucking your hot wife, for old time's sake."

Knowing he was right, and that Angie would certainly have the final say, I could only respond by shrugging my shoulders... "For auld land syne."

My wife took Clark by the belt and led him into the nearest doorway.

"I was going to take you to the master bedroom so my husband could watch us play catch-up, but I realize that we are going to be at it for hours after his normal bedtime, so I think the politest thing to do would be to fuck around on him elsewhere. Do you agree Hubby?"

REAL LIFE IS CLOSING IN ON ME AND. I NEED TO TAKE A BREAK FOR A LITTLE WHILE. IT SHOULD BE CLEAR THAT EPIC EXTRA-MARITAL SEX IS IN THE CARDS. BUT SEND ME A NOTE IF YOU HAVE SOME SUGGESTIONS FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER.

HOW LONG WILL MR. DEERING STAY? WILL HE EVER GO HOME? WILL DAVE GET INVOLVED FOR A THREESOME? OR WILL THE VISITOR CALL A FEW OF HIS BUDDIES AND SET UP A GANGBANG? WILL CLARK USE CONDOMS AND DO THEY HAVE NEAR ENOUGH ON HAND? WHAT SIZE DOES HE NEED? WILL HE TAKE ANGIE BACK HOME WITH HIM? HOW OFTEN WILL HE FUCK HER ASS? WILL HE LEAVE HER WITH CHILD? MOST IMPORTANTLY, HOW CAN WE SATISFY THE VENGEFUL MINDS OF OUR BTB CRAZED READERS?