This Is What I Want. Right?

"Don't you worry about that," I reassured her, "you're the only one I want!"

"But you're also all I want! And that's why I don't get this..." she tried again.

"You sure seemed like you also wanted... what was his name?" I smiled at her.

"Well, I only did that for you!" she said, her voice suddenly quite defensive.

"I know, I know... I just..." I started but didn't finish. I wanted to know but was unsure how much I could pressure her.

"Just...?" she asked. As I mentioned earlier, she's very curious and would never let an open statement like that stand.

"Well, I was just wondering... wasn't it also... fun? Just a little?"

She looked at me for a long time, trying to determine... something.

"I'm not a slut, Tom," she said finally.

"I never said you were!" I exclaimed.

"Then stop acting like I am one! I danced with Jeff because YOU asked me to, I only let him touch me 'cause YOU wanted me to! If I hadn't know you were there, watching, I'd have bit his goddamn tongue off when he kissed me, so DON'T treat me like I'm some kind of... of... wanton woman!"

Well, that certainly killed my boner.

"I'm sorry," I said after driving in silence for a while, "I didn't mean to say you were a slut."

Except I did. I very much wanted her to enjoy it... but now I needed to salvage what I could of tonight.

"I just don't understand," she said again.

More silence. We drove for a while, almost making it home before I opened my mouth again.

"Okay, it's like this," I said calmly, "you're beautiful, right? Sexy. Clever. Everything a man could want - that Jeff-guy certainly seemed interested, didn't he?"

"Flatter will get you... well, somewhere. Maybe," she said, in a pretend-angry voice and I grinned at her.

"Okay, so you're all that. And knowing that you're having fun, or... or at least, flirting, dancing even kissing that other guy," I hastily changed it to when I sensed she was about to object to the word 'fun', "but still going home with me... that's... well, that's a mind-blowing rush..."

"But if you hadn't asked me to do all that, I'd still go home with you! I'd been with you all along then!" she pointed out.

"Yeah, I... I know. It's kinda crazy," I admitted as we arrived at our home and I drove the car into the garage, "but it's... well, I've read a lot about online, right? And I found that's it's not all that uncommon. They talked about something called competing sperm-theory, where I'm experiencing some kind of caveman high when I compete with another man for you. If Jeff and I both were to... to have sex with you..."

"Wow, wow, wow! I never said-" she began but I cut her off.

"I know, but I'm trying to explain... so if Jeff and I both slept with you, I'd have to do you more to make sure the offspring would be mine, see? That would trigger some sort of testosterone-rush in me..."

"Really? You're not just gonna club me and drag me back to your cave, yelling 'ugh ugh!!'" she asked, sarcastically.

"Well," I grinned as I turned the engine off, "you might just make me say 'ugh ugh' if you play your cards right."

She stuck her tongue out at me but laughed nonetheless as she got out. I wasted no time in getting her to the bedroom - the kids were at my parents' so there was no interrupting, and she graciously let me undress her as I kissed and licked every inch of her body. We ended up on the bed, her naked and me between her legs, licking her sweetness. She was actually quite aroused already but I chose not to comment on that, instead I just enjoyed the rush it gave me, knowing that dancing with Jeff actually had had an effect on her, no matter what she said.

So she was gasping and mewing in pleasure and pulled me up in a deep kiss.

"I want you inside me," she whispered in my ear, and I started the struggle to get out of my pants while she pulled my shirt and t-shirt off.

Naked, I sunk into her to the hilt, making us both sigh in desire and started a slow, steady rhythm, pulling out and pushing in.

"So tell me about Jeff," I couldn't help but whisper into her ear after a little while.

"What do you want to know?" she asked softly.

"How did you like dancing with him?" I inquired

"It was... fun," she answered, "I like dancing."

"And knowing it wasn't your husband?" I wondered, "knowing I was watching you with him...?"

"That was... strange," she said "but I did it for you..."

"And when you let him grope your ass?" I continued, hoping to get some positive reaction from her.

"You liked that, didn't you?" she countered, "that's what you wanted, right?"

"Yeah," I grunted, instinctively speeding up as I pictured Jeff's hands on her ass, "it was so hot!"

"Glad you - ah! - glad you liked it," she gasped.

"Did you like it though?" I asked.

"I... guess," she sighed. Her reluctant response spurred me on, and I abandoned my slow and steady rhythm for faster, harder strokes. She sighed and met my thrusts with her own, and soon we'd exchanged the soft love making with good, old fashioned fucking. The sound of my flesh being forced against hers filled the room, intertwined with her moans and my grunts.

As my climaxed neared, one burning question was left in my mind though, and I couldn't help but ask: "Did you... did you feel his... cock...?"

She only answered with gasps and moans but I insisted and asked again: "Did you?"

"Yeeesss..." she finally gasped, and I almost lost control, hammering into her.

"Was it... was it big?" I needed to know, pinching the skin on my finger to keep from prematurely cumming.

"I... I guess," she muttered, clearly on the verge of orgasm herself - all the signs were there. I just needed to hold off for a little while longer...

"Bigger... bigger than me?" I panted, my nail digging into my skin, needing the pain to take focus from the wonders my senses were being assaulted with.

"I..." she muttered but didn't finish. I needed to know! Right now, nothing was more important than this one question!

Still fucking her, I asked with ragged breath, "Katie! Was he bigger?!"

"Yeeeeesss!" she gasped as her orgasm shook her. She looped her hands around my head and forced my lips to hers, while I fucked her through her cum, "oh, yes, Tom, oh yes, oh yes! More, more, keep going!" she demanded into my mouth.

I did my best but whether it was her answering yes, her cumming or if I just couldn't hold it at bay anymore, I too came in a mindshattering orgasm. The world drowned in lust and pleasure as I emptied myself into my loving wife. I grunted loudly a couple of times and kept fucking her until I finally collapsed on top of her, my body spent but happy.

"Oh wow," I muttered a while later, my breathing finally returned to normal, "oh wow."

"Yeah," she smiled from underneath me.

I rolled off her, letting her breathe.

"I love you," I said and kissed her.

"You better!" she grinned, but added more softly, "I love you too, you know. Else I wouldn't have done... all that."

"I know," I replied and kissed her again.

The question kept nagging me though. Had she answered yes to my question or was it just a reaction to her orgasm?

The next day, I tried in vain to talk to Katie about the experience. I wanted to know all about it, how she felt, what she thought, how she liked his body and what else she'd like to do but she shut me down each time... in an increasingly frosty tone. In the car heading towards my parents, I tried again.

"You know, next time we go out, I'd really like you to-" I began.

"Don't ask me to dance with strangers again," she cut me off, coldly, "I did as you asked, you had your fun, now let it be."

"Well, eh... I... I had actually only imagined last night as a... a warm-up... like I said, we were dipping our toes."

"And the water was ice-cold," she said, "so we decided to stay on dry land and focus on our marriage."

Yeah, that ended that conversation really fast, so instead we drove on in silence, picked up the kids and had a 'normal' Sunday.

I tried to get intimate with her that night but she was tired and went to sleep. So much for my fantasies...

--

I stewed on this for a week, attempted to get her to open up and consulted my online forums.

Finally, Saturday night when I got out from Elisabeth's room (our youngest daughter) after tucking her in, I decided to try a more... earnest approach.

I poured us a glass of wine each and found her on the couch in the living-room, having started some stupid Netflix-show.

"Honey," I said as I handed her the glass and sat down next to her, "last Saturday was really-"

"Tom, not this again," she said in a tired voice.

"No, let me speak," I said as I held up a hand, "I'll say what I have to say and then you can interrupt me all you want." She didn't react to this except by narrowing her eyes in a rather dangerous way, so I quickly ventured on.

"Last Saturday was really special to me," I began, my eyes fixed on the my hands, "it... it's something I've been fantasising about and thinking about and dreaming about for... well, years, I think. And it was... it was everything I wanted. I was so proud of you! I was so... I don't know, it's hard to explain, but worried and safe at the same time. I felt, like, 'that's a hot guy - and my wife still loves me, still chose me'."

She sat very still while I talked, so I cast a quick glance up at her before looking at my hands again. She seemed... focused. Not mad or even dismissive. Maybe we could actually discuss this?

"And you looked like you enjoyed it too. Like we were on the same page, you know? We both wanted this, for you, for me, for us. I mean, maybe, you wanted it for me, mostly, but I think... it seemed a part of you liked it."

"Tom, it's..."

"No, please, let me finish. In the club, with Jeff, you seemed to enjoy yourself. You did, and I... I don't think you're that good an actor. But then, when we got to the car, you... shut down. Like... like you couldn't allow yourself to have fun with anyone but your husband... well, not that kind of fun, at least."

I took a deep breath before continuing, still not looking at her, "and that... made me feel... I don't know, disappointed? Sad? Like... you couldn't be open and honest with me. I'm your husband, I don't want you to hide things from me, feelings, I mean. If it really meant nothing, if it was boring and was a waste of time, then fine. That's it. But if you did have fun, if it did turn you on... I think, as my wife, you owe me the truth."

I finally looked up and met her eyes. She was biting her lips, something of a habit of hers when she's thinking.

"Please... say something," I asked.

"I don't know, Tom," she sighed, "it was... it was all so strange. You out of nowhere opening up about all this, and then suddenly I was alone in a night-club, looking for a partner. I haven't done something like that since... college, I think?"

"Yeah, I realise this is also-"

"And Jeff was cute," she continued, not paying my attempt at reassuring any heed, "he was. And... maybe. Maybe it was a little fun. I liked dancing with a young, hot guy. He wanted me, he did. You watching was... well, to be honest, it was a little odd. Distracting. But still... yeah, maybe it scared me. I was doing it for you but I don't want to be a slut... but I don't want you to feel bad either..."

"Honey, you're not a slut! You're my wonderful wife-"

"Who you want to be a slut!" she finished for me.

"I... well..." I didn't really know what to say to that, so instead I leaned in for a kiss. She was passive at first but responded and soon we were making out.

"I love you," I whispered and continued the kiss.

"You're so sexy," I said, "so hot and wonderful..."

"Let's go to bed," she said and I, though a bit perplexed by her suggestion, eagerly followed her through the house.

We threw our clothes on the floor when we made it to the bedroom and crawled into bed. I made for her pussy to lick her and get her warmed up but instead she drew me up into her arms. My dick was already hard and I quickly found out that she was also more than ready to go. I penetrated her and moved back and forth a little, expanding her tight pussy, so she could take all of me. For a good, long while it was as nothing had changed. It was just me and my wonderful wife together, showing our love for one another... making love to one another. Our bodies joined, and we moaned and groaned, and everything was as it should be.

Except... I couldn't shake those thoughts, those feelings. My mind's eye kept returning to that night in the dance-club, where Katie for the first time ventured into hotwife-territory. A desire to re-explore that night rose with my pleasure, and soon, I couldn't hold back anymore.

"Was he bigger?" I finally asked into the kiss, as I pushed my entire length into her and she sighed in return.

She pulled back a little and met my eyes with a unreadable expression - there was no doubt she understood the question but she seemed unsure how to respond. After what seemed like an eternity, she slowly nodded, and at last I had my answer.

"Oh God," I muttered as images of Jeff's large dick flooded my brain and I started fucking her in earnest. She moaned and sighed and met my thrusts with her own.

"How... how do you know?" I asked, slightly out of breath.

"Oohh... I felt him... when I had my back to... you," she gasped, "just for a second..."

Immediately, the image in my mind shifted to one of Katie fondling Jeff through his pants.

"Ah... how much... bigger?" I needed to know. She looked up at me again with a 'you're sure?' look in her eyes. I nodded quickly in response to her unasked question.

"Quite a bit..." she sighed, "at least... at least a couple of inches..."

"Fuuuuck..." I gasped, and again forced my nail into the flesh of my fingertip, needing the pain to distract me from my wife's wonderful pussy, the mental image of her feeling up a strange man's massive member... and her words confirming that she'd done just that!

"Shit, Katie..." I sighed, "oh, shit, oh wow..."

While pressing my nail harder and harder into my finger, I tried desperately to change the image in my head, exchanging sexy Katie with her hands on a stranger's thigh to... cleaning the fridge... taking out the trash... cutting the grass... Katie smiling at the stranger, telling him how big-no! Emptying the dishwasher... watching Katie get bent over the kitchen-table, her dress bundled up around her waist and a large stranger behind her, about to-no!!

"You like that?" she suddenly interrupted my valiant attempt at keeping the orgasm at bay, "you like knowing I was touching a stranger? A stranger's big dick?"

"Fuck, Katie... I'm..." I gasped.

"You're gonna cum, honey? Gonna cum while thinking about your wife and Jeff's dick?" she asked in a sexy, teasing voice.

"Cum, Tom! It's okay. Cum while you think about me and Jeff... together..." she told me, and finally I surrendered to the sweet, sweet bliss. I revelled in all the sexiest images, Katie kissing Jeff, feeling him up, inviting him home, sucking him, praising his size...

"Please," I groaned as I felt the inevitable orgasm grow in me, "please... call me cuck..."

"What?" she asked, her voice back to normal without that teasing edge.

"Please..."

"Okay... eh, cum, my little cuck..." she tried and I groaned in response, my entire body convulsing at her words. She quickly picked up on that.

"Yeees..." she continued, her voice now again carrying its sexy quality, "be a good cuck and cum in your wife..."

"Ahhhh... Katie! Oh God, oh fuuuck!" I gasped as I pressed myself into her as deep as possible and fired my load. Pleasure erupted throughout my body, centered on my dick that was still buried deep within her.

"Yeeees! That's good, Tom..." she smiled, "good cuck..."

I shook again at her words before I finally collapsed a top of her, where we rested for a little while.

When I finally rolled off her, she looked at me: "Wow, Tom," she said, "you really like this stuff, huh?"

I could only smile weakly and shrug my shoulders. No longer fired up by lust, I felt a little ashamed. That I had these weird desires, and that I hadn't been able to make her orgasm. I'd always prided myself on finishing last, making sure she got hers as well.

"It's okay, Tom," she smiled at me, "you needed this, I think."

"I... yeah, I guess. I'm just sorry... you didn't get to..." I muttered.

"Don't worry," she said and her smile grew wider, "you'll make it up to me."

"Promise!" I agreed and rolled over to kiss her.

--

You'd think after that round and the reaction she got from me that there'd be more cuckold/hotwife playing in our sex-life from now on, right? Well, you'd be wrong. Katie seemed to think that we'd gotten it out of our systems now, and we could get back to our normal lives.

I wanted to agree with her but the fire we'd started in me couldn't just be ignored - although she tried.

A couple of days later, I paid my debt to her - I went down on her delicious pussy and licked her to a nice, satisfying orgasm. Then I crawled up on her, my dick poised at her entrance and whispered something about Jeff and his big cock.

"Am I not enough for you?" came her scalding reply, "must you involve a stranger everytime we make love?"

Ouch. Shot down. My erection died instantly, and I rolled off her, feeling hurt. She remained quiet for a while, then apologised and we ended up having good, wholesome sex with her riding me to a couple of orgasms before I exploded up in her, my mind full of images of her and Jeff.

I tried a couple more times but got shot down each time, so yeah, we were back to square one. Something about this was worrying my wife, but she wouldn't open up about it, wouldn't talk about it. Now that I thought back to when I'd opened up, she actually hadn't really said anything about how she felt about all of this. She just didn't want to be a slut, and maybe it was a little fun. Did she like it or didn't she?

At the same time, I was annoyed with myself that I had asked her to call me a cuck. I wasn't, after all, a cuck (yet!) and it felt like I was... strutting in borrowed plumes or something. Like I hadn't earned it.

I wanted to earn it but Katie wasn't exactly cooperating. She positively glowed when I, after some intense soul-searching asked her not to call me that again.

"I'm glad you're coming to your senses," she smiled.

"Yeah, not until you've actually... done... it..." I stammered, wishing I hadn't said anything. Her eyes turned cold and she asked: "Done... it?"

"Yeah, actually slept with... another guy..." I blushed.

Her mouth became a thin line and I'm pretty sure she was about to say something (probably something mean) but instead she just muttered "fine" and left the room.

So that was that. Our lives were back to normal - except for this fiery hope that I now carried. We had dipped our toes in the cuckold-pool, and somehow I was sure we'd take the splash sooner or later.

--

Around four weeks later, my wife came home late. I'd actually started to worry when her car rolled up the driveway, very slowly and carefully.

"Honey!" she called the moment she entered the house, and when I came to see what was wrong, she quickly explained, "my car's making a weird sound. I think it needs fixing."

Now, I've no knowledge of how to fix a car, and she knew that. So what was up?

"So, why didn't you take it to the mechanic?" I asked.

"Ugh, I hate going to the mechanic. It smells and it takes forever, and you have to stay and wait, or walk home..."