tagLoving WivesTo Share or Not To Share

To Share or Not To Share

bythecarolinadreamer©

Author's notes:

#1: I'd like to dedicate this story to member "Someonetwothree" in recognition of his kind comment on my story "The Wimp." That wasn't his favorite story, but he still had some encouraging words for a struggling wannabe writer. Thanks 123—this one's for you. I'd love to hear your opinion on how to make it better.

#2 Obviously I lean more to RAAC than BTB, for I'm a forgiving sort of guy who believes the Bible's teaching about forgiving like you want to be forgiven. Still, I'm writing fiction, thus I need to write for the audience, and the BTB fans are part of Lit's readers, therefore I'll try to mix in more of those stories. If BTB fans really want to read more and better stories, they can help by constructive comments and suggestions. I welcome comments from anyone I can reach for clarification.


*****

To Share or Not To Share

Until six weeks ago I would have sworn we had the perfect marriage and almost the perfect life. Sure, my wife Jan and I had our problems, but they were nothing compared to what so many of our friends faced. I often thanked God for all his blessings, especially for giving me the smarts to perfect the electronic ignition system used on almost all of today's cars.

You'll remember how iffy those things were when they first came out; well, it was little ole me that come up with the solution that allows you to almost forget about having problems with the ignition systems today. It was a simple little circuit change, but I patented it and since I wasn't greedy, the car companies didn't see the need to spend money reinventing the wheel, so I have an income that allows us to live the good life.

Thus Jan and Joey Baker became a pillar of the community, people who could be relied on to help in a time of need. We also recognized the problems we could face if people knew just how wealthy we really were—especially how vulnerable our children would be if some thug got it in his head to use them for blackmail. Therefore we tried to keep the public, and even our kids, thinking we were just upper middle class citizens.

In keeping with the scenario, Jan worked as a real estate agent while I was a codes inspector for the county. Both jobs gave us plenty of free time to attend the kids school functions and 'what have you' while they were growing up. Now both our girls, Betty and Babs were in college and we had all that free time to ourselves, and that's where the problems started.

Our sex lives had always been good—I thought. At least Jan always seemed to have an orgasm when we made love. I didn't have a lot of experience before we married and neither did Jan. She explained my dick not finding the barrier to her 'holy place' by saying she and a girl friend had fooled around with vibrators while in college. Hey, it happened before I knew her, whatever it was, so I had no compliant. Just as long as I was the only one allowed to enter that gateway to paradise since marriage, I was happy.

Now for the sake of full disclosure I admit I'm not a really big man, neither in body size nor 'down there'. In fact, from what I can read, my six incher is just about average; but movies and magazines were about all we had to go by back in the late sixties. I admit I always felt inferior, especially when we watched John Holmes and the other porn stars. The only thing I had going for me was the ability to stay in the saddle until the ride was over. I had complete control and sometimes she'd beg me to hurry up and cum because I was making her sore.

I'd watched the girls in the porn movies having orgasms, one after the other, but try as I might I couldn't get Jan to go twice. She insisted she was a 'once and done' kind of girl. Besides, she always insisted she was completely satisfied with me and that she couldn't imagine wanting anything more, and up until a few weeks ago I absolutely believed her.

So, what happened? Well, one day Jan came home all bubbly about getting promoted. It meant more money, but our investments were really paying off. Promotion also meant longer hours and being responsible for others. Personally I value our free time over more money, but she was all giddy about the promotion.

It's funny how, when you don't need money, you seem to just get more and more. We put the extra in the girl's college accounts because it helped sell them on the idea we were just common folks, like most of their classmates. The last thing we wanted was some bastard playing up to them because they had money coming when we died. We wanted our girls to have a true loving marriage, so our gifts were always in line with the hardworking family image.

"Honey," she said, "The Boss also assigned this new guy to me—well I say new—actually he's only new in comparison with the rest of us, he's been there some months now. His name's Kent and you won't believe how the single women at work fall all over themselves trying to impress him." She finished fixing us coffee to go along with the Chinese take-out she'd brought home. "I swear I think Susan climaxed just from him touching her face." She laughed.

"Wow! He must be really handsome."

"Oh, he's all of that, and then some. He has this baby-faced look about him that makes a woman want to hold him to her breast, pat his head and assure him it will be okay."

I was setting the table and glanced up just in time to catch the wistful look that flashed across her face. No need to ask if she had those same feelings, however, that really didn't bother me—so long as she didn't act on them. "Yeah, but he ain't as good looking as me, is he?" I teased.

She laughed again. "Course not, Honey. No one looks as good to me as my Hubby." She came over, wrapped her arms around my neck and proceeded to put a lip-lock on me that had few equals. Her tongue darted into my mouth and her hips ground against mine.

'Hey,' I thought, 'where is all this coming from?' Jan was a loving woman, but starting to smooch before dinner...? Not in quite a while. However, I wasn't stupid; when she took my hand and led the way to the bedroom, I thought, 'The hell with the coffee and the food. I can always heat them up after I cool this pussy down.'

"Get those clothes off, big boy," she said as she shed her own. In a jiffy we were naked, lying side by side with her moaning while I kissed and licked on those nipples, which proudly protruded from the brown areolas perched atop her still pert breast. I never ceased to wonder at how her breast had held their shape after having two babies. She always claimed it was because she didn't breast feed.

"Kiss me, Baby." She tugged me upward until my tongue started teasing hers. Our kissing heated up and then her hand fondled my cock, while she moaned un-intelligible nothings and her body began to thrash about. "Put it in—now!" She broke away long enough to tell me what she wanted, and then her tongue returned to my mouth as I slipped all I had into her squirming body. I had anticipated a long slow fuck, sort of like the waves of a calm tropical ocean; instead I got the raging surf that's so common just before one of our many hurricanes comes ashore.

When our hurricane finally blew out, we lay side by side—both panting like we'd just run five miles. I could feel her sweaty skin and smell the musky scent of a freshly fucked woman; I don't think I've ever smelled anything I liked better.

"I love you, Joey," she whispered. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Love you too, Babe."

We drifted to sleep lying right there, neither of us got up, even to pee, until the morning's sun peeked through the bedroom window.

"Oh my goodness, I'll be late!" Jan jumped up and headed to the bathroom. I had to pee, so I went down to the guest bathroom to take care of business and shower while she got ready for work. I got back to the bedroom just in time to catch a glimpse of her shapely behind covered by lacy red panties and trying to wiggle into a red dress that fit like a glove. I really can't whistle, but I gave it my best try.

"Like it?" She gave me one of those smiles that can melt ice.

"Yep, I like." I reached for her, but she spun away.

"No way, Baby. You start that and I won't get to work till noon." She looked back at me as she walked away. "I'll just grab a bite from the food truck," she said, blowing me a kiss.

I watched the swing of those hips as she walked away and couldn't help but think I was a very lucky man.

******

JAN'S STORY

I love my husband, I really do, but sometimes that man drives me nuts. Don't get me wrong, he's a good man and a wonderful husband and father, but he believes in that bible passage that says the man is to be head of the household. He always thinks he should have the last word on any decision and I'm tired of always being told what to do.

I was never one to make demands, even when I should have. As a child I grew up in a very disciplined environment. When I went to college my parents made sure I lived with a maiden aunt who kept a close watch on me. She disapproved of almost every boy I dated, and of course good little me wanted her approval, so I'd break it off after just one or two dates.

As a freshman I became good friends with a girl who was just a bit on the daring side. That's when I got my first taste of sex—girl to girl—but it didn't do a thing for either of us. Our next step was ordering vibrators, and when I visited her dorm room, we experimented with each other using our mechanical friends. Believe it or not, we both lost our cherries to six inches of throbbing latex cock. Well, it was one sure way not to get pregnant, so I guess we made the right choices after all; especially when we heard there were four girls in our freshman class who were preggers.

The next year I met Joey, the biggest nerd, but the nicest boy on campus. It was love at first sight—for me anyway. They say all engineers are nerds; if so, Joey was the King Nerd. My aunt even approved of him and we were a couple all during college. We married three months after graduation, both found jobs—me, with the reality office I now worked—Joey, with a road construction crew. I asked him why he didn't get a job in the field he trained in, but he always gave a vague answer and disappeared in the room he called his Lab.

So, for six months I was the main breadwinner but I didn't mind—not really. Joey said he was working on something that could knock my socks off and I had faith in my man. I'll never forget the day he left for Detroit, claiming we'd be rich when he returned.

We weren't quite rich as soon as he got back home, but he did have a pretty good check; it took almost a year for everything to settle down and the royalty checks to start flowing in. Apparently Joey had picked a good lawyer to act as his agent; since the first check, which covered a lot of back time, was for more than both of us ever thought we'd have at one time—a lot more.

From that point we started living the good life, but we did our best to keep our good fortune a secret. We went so far as to put most of our money in various Charleston banks, leaving only about what a normal family might have in the local bank to cover day to day expenses.

Everything hummed along as you might expect. We had two babies—both girls, even though Joey desperately wanted a boy. Both excelled in schoolwork and sports, which kept me on the jump, raising them and working too. All too soon, they were both off to college and I had time on my hands.

I tried to fill it by working more hours, joining more charity functions and I even started joining the girls from work for a 'girls-night-out' every Friday night. Since Joey and I had long observed a family date on Saturday nights, even when the girls were in baby carriers, and when they left for school we added a regular Tuesday date night, I was really too busy to have the empty nest syndrome.

All in all I had the perfect life—up until my company hired a man named Kent Daniels. Right from the first I could tell Kent thought he was God's gift to women, and judging by the bulge in his pants, he just might have been.

From day one Kent acted like the only bull in a herd of cows; I mean he really flirted unbelievably with all the women—single or married. As I watched, I was amazed by how much progress he seemed to make—even with the married ladies. He tried putting the moves on me, but for all his faults Joey was my man and I didn't intend to do anything to hurt him.

But you know what they say, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."

To my credit, I must say I resisted everything Kent could throw at me for over a month, but during that time he gradually turned from the others and started concentrating on me. Looking back now, I know it was a matter of 'the apple out of reach being the most desirable', but with his continued flirting, it wasn't long before I started thinking I was something special.

Don't misunderstand, nothing out of the way was happening; just a case of him dropping by my office every chance he got with some question about some procedure that developed into a twenty or thirty minute bull session. The conversations gradually included an off color joke or a discussion about this or that movie we'd both seen—nothing that would have bothered Joey if he'd been in the office with us

Then one day I came back from lunch to find a dozen red roses on my desk. The card simply said, "These flowers can never compare with your beauty." And it was signed, 'Your secret admirer.'

The next week another bunch showed up that was also from, "Your secret Admirer," but this time Kent was waiting outside my office when the delivery boy showed up. As soon as the boy left, Kent came in, grinning from ear to ear.

"Pretty Roses—who sent them?"

"Beats me." I was holding the card while wondering just who might have sent them. Could it possibly be a stunt Joey was pulling? I wouldn't put it past him.

He came over and stood behind me. In fact, he stood so close I could feel something pressing into my back. "Secret admirer, huh? Shoot—that could be any one of a hundred men. Woman as pretty as you must attract a lot of them."

I pulled away and returned to my chair, so he made himself at home in one of my extra chairs and proceeded to flirt. I didn't object to his flirting, but I still tried to play it cool. Suddenly it struck me; I'd bet dollars to doughnuts that son-of a-gun was the secret admirer.

As he got up to leave, I decided to have a little fun at his expense. "Too bad whoever it is didn't just come right out and tell me how he felt, instead of wasting money on flowers. Makes a gal feel good to hear someone thinks she's special. But you know how clueless some men can be..." His cheeks had a reddish tint when he left my office.

Our favorite 'girl's night out' hangout was a place known as Miss Kitty's Long Branch. Its owner was a cousin of Joey's named Kitty and it seems when they were children, both she and Joey loved the reruns of Gunsmoke. The drinks were reasonable, after four PM the grill served hot sandwiches if you liked that sort of thing, and Friday and Saturday night they had a live country band. Other nights you could dance to the music of a real 40's juke box.

Oh yeah, there's one more thing Miss Kitty's Long Branch had in common with the old west saloons. Girls! The worst, or maybe the best, kept secret in town was, if you had the urge, there were always pretty girls hanging out there. All you had to do was strike up a conversation, buy a few drinks and if she said yes, the two of you could go on a date. Everything was conducted in such good taste, even the church ladies didn't know what was going on, or if they did, they didn't raise a ruckus. Miss Kitty's was just a fun place to spend a few hours.

The law figured it wasn't anyone's damn business what adults did in their free time. The girls made a good living without worrying about some pimp harassing them and Miss Kitty, rented them suites in an old motel that had been converted for the purpose after I-95 had driven it out of business. Of course the rent was pretty high, but considering how handy Kitty's connections with the law came in, when a John started trouble, the girls were satisfied and they always paid on time. It was a win-win deal all around.

The first Friday night after the rose incident, Kent was waiting at Kitty's when we got there. A woman in our group invited him to join us and I must admit he was a welcome addition. That man could keep us all in stiches and each time I laughed at one of his antics, he seemed to slip his chair closer to mine. Soon our legs were touching and he was finding opportunity after opportunity to touch my skin in some way. I hate to admit it, but I was beginning to like his attention.

That first night we danced several times, each one found him pulling me closer and closer. During the last dance, his cock pressing against me, told me he was very well endowed. Walking back to the table, after the last dance, I could only hope my panties would soak up the leaking moisture.

"Damn Baby! What brought that about?" Joey asked after we finally lay side by side, exhausted and panting for breath. I had dragged him to bed as soon as I walked in the door. I was so hot I had my first climax almost as soon as his shaft pushed its way past my outer lips. My Joey could always stay in the saddle for a long ride and as he continued the long slow strokes and I found myself starting to climb MT. 'O' again, only to plunge into an even more intense climax.

Damn! What was happening to me, I'd never went more than once without a long rest between, and here I was, climaxing time after time—so many I lost count.

'There's only one thing wrong with this picture,' I thought as he slipped his arm under my neck and I snuggled close, my head on his shoulder. 'All the time I was making love to Joey, I was thing of Kent.' God! I felt so low I could have crawled under a snake's belly. I promised myself and God, right then and there, nothing like that would ever happen again; that I would stay away from Kent.

My solemn promise lasted almost four days. That's how long it was before Kent showed up in my office and this time he was bringing the biggest bunch of roses yet.

"Not from me," I heard him explain to my 'Girl Friday'. I'm just saving the delivery boy a few steps." He pushed his way into my office, kicking the door shut behind him. "Another gift from your "Secret Admirer" he said, setting the vase on the corner of my desk.

"You are so full of crap! It took a while, but I finally figured out you're the culprit."

He grinned. "Busted—but it was fun, wasn't it. You know very well all women like a little mystery in life." I didn't resist when he placed both hands on my cheeks and pulled my face toward his, I even closed my eyes when he lowered his lips to mine. The kiss started out very tender, and then his tongue was pushing against my lips, which seemed to open of their own will. My arms somehow found their way around his neck, and when his hands cupped my buns and pulled me tight against his hard cock, I was lost in a fantasy of him stretching me out on my desk and taking me right then and there.

"Next time you'll be begging for more," he said, leaving me a raging bundle of hormones. I couldn't believe he was just walking away.

The next few weeks were more of the same; we'd meet in my office; in the store room; in the break room if no one was there—you name it, if we could be alone, we met there. We even went outside for a smoke break even though neither of us smoked; we'd just sit at one of the table holding unlit cigarettes and if anyone approached us, we'd pretend to put them out and head back inside.

So far we'd only done light petting; mostly because I insisted I couldn't cheat on Joey, but Kent kept up the pressure. He was always the gentleman, never carrying things beyond the point where I said stop, but he kept insisting we should get together privately.

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bythecarolinadreamer© 85 comments/ 62308 views/ 68 favorites

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