Turnabout Pt. 09

Before proceeding, please read the TAGS. If something there not to your liking or a turn-off, you probably should consider selecting a different story.

To fully appreciate where this story might be going, it is best to know where it has been. If you haven't done so already, I encourage you to go to the index of my stories and begin with Turnabout -- Part 1. (Trust me, you have missed a lot.)

I understand that everyone has their own likes and interests. As such, I encourage anyone who reads my stories to give an honest evaluation.

Every vote counts. Every star is appreciated. (Did you know that less 10% of readers bother to rate the stories they've read?) Naturally, I greatly appreciate four and five stars. Also, I welcome public comments as well as private messages. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks!

Now, on with Part 9

* * * *

7:35, and I was awake, curled up in the fetal position, desperately trying to ignore my over-saturated bladder. I lay there wishing there was a way to relieve the pressure without getting out of bed. The pain was enough to distract me from the crusty film coating my lips and the thick mucus on my tongue and gums.

What a long and intensely emotional night it had been -- for both of us. Around 5 am, utter exhaustion had finally overtaken my wife's exuberance of getting fucked by another man. Right in the midst of explaining how "glorious" it felt to have "a real cock" sliding in and out of her pussy when her words trailed off until she was sound asleep. Even in the darkness, I knew she was still smiling. Not long after, sleep came to me as well.

Now, the faint sounds of cartoons and youthful giggling echoed in my ears, informing me that our daughter and her girlfriend were awake from their sleep-over.

Allowing Marie to continue sleeping seemed like the smart thing to do. After all, a well-rested wife would improve the chances that the two of us could have some fun of our own later on.

That meant getting the girls out of the house. And the sooner, the better.

Reluctantly, I slid from beneath the covers. As I tried standing, I experienced the kind of sensation that follows finishing a triple shot of whiskey; everything felt just a little wonky.

Still wearing my 'we have company sleepwear,' a pair of knit shorts, and t-shirt, I closed the bedroom door behind me and stumbled down the hallway to Megan's bedroom. Tapping lightly on the door, I had to use the doorframe to steady myself. [Why are the walls still moving?]

The sound of the TV was replaced by whispering and the subtle rustling of bed sheets. My gut was in such distress that I crossed my legs to help hold back the impending flood, worried my knees might buckle any moment.

When the door finally cracked open, it startled me enough that several drops of pee snuck out. Megan's glowing face filled the gap. "Good morning, daddy."

Those were the words she spoke, but they didn't have the usual chipper ring that I was used to. It sounded more like I had interrupted some secret meeting. I was in too much discomfort to delve into whatever the seven-year-olds had been plotting.

Gathering my composure, I squeaked out, "Good morning, sweetie. How about..." *CHOKE*. A lump of that mucus got caught in my airway. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "How about you two getting dressed, and I'll take you both out for breakfast."

In a flash, Megan's disposition shifted from one of being disturbed to the beaming smile I was used to. "Okay, Daddy," she said a little too loudly.

"Shhh... Mommy is still sleeping," I whispered. "So please, let's do it quietly. Okay?" Megan caught on and simply nodded her agreement, then shut her door.

It had taken a lot of energy and concentration to prevent me from peeing right there in the hallway. I swear, my eyeballs were floating in piss. But no matter how hard you try, you will not be getting where you need to get as quickly as you need to get there with your legs still crossed. Grabbing my groin, I gingerly but quickly made my way back towards my room. While being as quiet as humanly possible, I realized the extraordinary amount of dampness that filled my hand. A slippery dampness. The front of my shorts was saturated with pre-cum and traces of actual semen.

Marie had caused this mess in my pants by telling me how she had actually fucked another man.

Without thinking, I blurted out, "Holy SH....!" before catching myself. Silently, I began praying. [I hope Megan didn't notice. Oh, please tell me that it's not that visible.]

Quickly and quietly, I crept across our bedroom and into the bathroom. The call of nature would have to wait a little longer. After gently closing the door behind me, I turned on the lights and stepped in front of the vanity mirror to see if the dampness was visible.

What I saw was so shocking my slime-covered hand covered my mouth to ensure silents. [Oh god! It's as clear as day! She had to have noticed.] The shock of this caused a brief trickle of pee, adding to the dampness of my shorts. Somehow I managed to not fully let go, literally pissing myself.

Rewinding our interaction, I told myself, [She never looked down. Her eyes never left my face. She didn't notice.] The more I worked at reassuring myself of this, the sensation of mild inebriation returned. The relaxing effect this provided allowed me to further convince myself that my daughter would have said something had she seen anything.

Mother nature would wait no longer. Leaving a dribbling trail of pee on the floor, I made it to the toilet, lifted the leg opening, and let loose. A strong and seemingly endless stream of piss splashed into the bowl, leaving time to tell myself, [Face it. Whether Megan noticed or not, it's too late to do anything about it now.]

Of course, I knew why I had been in such desperate need of peeing. But why was my head still a bit foggy? Even the room seemed to be gently swaying. It was like I was hungover.

[A Hangover. THAT'S IT!] When Marie returned home, I had soothed her sore pussy with my tongue. Then I voluntarily allowed Marie to use me as her urinal. With my mouth locked onto her clean-shaven vagina, she emptied her bladder, filling my belly with at least a liter of her piss. Thus the reason for my own recent state of desperation. However, I recalled how her urine tasted like some weird new steaming hot cocktail concoction. [There must have been actual alcohol in her urine.] According to her, every guy in the place had been buying her drinks. She said that her glass was never empty.

For as long as I'd known Marie, she had always been able to hold her own when drinking. Oh, she could get drunk. But never totally wasted. We often joked that she passed more alcohol than she absorbed. I guess that joke was now on me. Evidently, once she was home, I had been the recipient of that excess alcohol. It had passed straight through her kidneys and bladder and into me. [Now I'm the one with a hangover.]

Or at least, HAD a hangover. Oddly, no sooner had I shaken the last drop of piss from my dick when I felt much more like my usual sober self.

Still, on edge about what my daughter might or might not have seen, it didn't keep me from wanting to keep noises to a minimum. So as not to wake my wife, I flushed then waited for the toilet to finish refilling. While waiting. I rinsed out the shorts as best as I could and added them alongside the panties on the shower curtain rod. Of course, the panties were already dry. Still, looking at the line-up, I found it hard to believe those panties had caused some so much grief and delight last night.

Once I was back in the bedroom, the angelic look of my sleeping wife stole my breath. The gentle upward curl on her lips betrayed her thoughts. No doubt she was still dreaming about her night of unbridled sex with someone other than her betrothed.

Surely, a good number of men would consider ending their marriage if his wife committed adultery. But not me. I was overcome with pride by the turnabout in my wife's attitude. That she no longer felt it was necessary to hide or deny her sexual needs just to comply with society's expectations. I admired her for deciding to set her sexual desires free by going after what she wanted. For my wife to take the initiative of screwing another guy was causing me to love her even more. More than ever before.

It thrilled me to know that somewhere out there on the highways and by-ways was a long-haul trucker named Omar with memories of being granted an evening of illicit sex with a vivacious married woman. The woman I have loved so dearly for more than a decade. I know it's weird, but sharing my sexy wife with a total stranger had me feeling like I was the luckiest man on earth.

For years, I had dreamed that one day my wife would, just once, give herself to another man. If doing so made me a cuckold, well, so be it. How I would feel afterward, I had no way of knowing for sure. But, I certainly had no intentions of ever divorcing her if it were to ever happen.

Well, as of last night, because of my wife's extracurricular sexual activity -- and due to my acceptance of it -- that made it official. I was now a cuckold. It turns out I was even more pleased about gaining that title than I had ever imagined.

As far as I was concerned, my willingness to share my wife with another man made me the better man. The badge of cuckold was something would I forever carry proudly.

My heart overflowed with so much joy it ached. I wanted so badly to wrap her in my arms and thank her for being such an amazing wife. The way she was able to fulfill every aspect of my life.

Just then, my eyes caught a glimpse of what lay limply on my pillow. A totally deflated condom.

So consumed with the images that filled my head picturing everything Marie told me about her fling, I had totally forgotten all about the condom and the story behind it.

After Omar had filled it with his cum, my sexually devious wife saved it. After he came for the second time, she offered to remove the condom for him and "clean him up." While she distracted Omar by licking and sucking his cock and balls, she knotted the open end, trapping his gooey slime in the bulbous end. Then she stuffed it back into her snatch, as she said, "to keep it safe and warm."

Once she returned home lying in our marital bed, she retrieved it and placed it into my mouth. Then, doing as I was instructed, I chewed on it as she continued to tell of what a wonderful and sexy time she had with her "casual acquaintance."

To prevent accidentally swallowing and possibly choking on the whole condom, my lips securely held the stretched and limp end outside of my mouth. This left my tongue to play with and squish the slime-filled prophylactic. And, boy, what a lot of cum it held. My entire mouth was pretty much filled with the rubbery balloon and its warm contents. Knowing that my mouth was so precariously holding the ejaculation of another man was highly erotic. The risk of a tooth puncturing the latex and releasing the semen within was unlike anything I had ever seen or read about before.

Not that the threat was enough to prevent my jaw from moving, kind of teasing and testing the durability of the latex. All the while, my tongue bathed and caressed the marvelous pouch of manly cream.

I don't remember when, but it had to have happened in my sleep when the contents were finally set free. Thinking about it now had my hard-on bobbing and throbbing wildly. This could have been an opportunity to discover what the cum of someone else tastes like when not mixed with pussy juice. And I slept through it! [Well, I'll be damned! I actually swallowed another man's cum. All by itself. Not as a creampie. No added sweet oils of pussy juice were present. It was just cum. A thick glob of cum filled my mouth, coated my tongue, and slid down my throat into my belly.]

The realization of this made me smile broadly. Somehow I could imagine that even in my sleep, I had purred when this happened. [I guess it's is true. It's the cum that I like best of all.] If only I could remember how Omar's cum tasted compared to my own. Being that swallowing it hadn't wakened me, I could only assume that it tasted good. But was it better, or just the same?

There would be time to ponder these questions. Right then, I needed to get a move on.

Grabbing the first things I could lay my hands on, I went back into the bathroom to get dressed. After a quick wash of my face and brushing my teeth, I crept out of the bedroom and found the girls ready and waiting in the living room.

Saturday mornings, the girls had dance lessons. I asked if they were prepared. Both had on leotards under their jackets and pants. Tammy was borrowing one of Megan's.

Climbing into my car, Megan said, "Hey, daddy. Where's mommy's car? You said she was sleeping."

Good question. I had no idea where her car was or even what condition it might be in. Marie had been drinking and was still under the influence when she got home. But by the way she had acted, it didn't seem that she'd been in an accident. Thinking quickly, I made up a story, hoping I was right. "One of her friends brought her home. I'll take her to pick up her car later on." That seemed to do the trick, and the girls carried on like all was right with the world.

After breakfast, I sat in the parent's section, watching as the instructor took the girls through a few new routines. At least I was pretending to be a good parent watching his daughter. It's not my fault that my mind kept drifting. I'll blame it on a lack of sleep. But I kept revisiting everything Marie had told me about her night as a tiger on the prowl for fresh game. And from what I could tell, there were details still to be revealed. Luckily, my jeans were tight enough to contain my dick from becoming fully erect. The darkness of the denim and the dim lighting of the seating area also helped keep my arousal from becoming noticeable.

For this, I was grateful. Especially when the mother of one of the other girls sat down next to me. "Hi there, Jeff."

"Oh. Hi, Meredith. What's new?"

"Not much. You know. Another Saturday. Another dance class." From there, our conversation wandered from topic to topic. All the while throwing in the occasional compliment for each other's daughter. Things like how fast they are growing. And how dancing is keeping them physically active and off their phones. Every time the chit-chat subsided, my mind would wander back to my wife's extracurricular physical activities last night.

Evidently, this preoccupation with things not related to our little dancers was noticeable. "Umm, Jeff?" Meredith asked. "Are you sure you are okay? You look like you are here only in body. If I didn't know you better, I'd say you have other things on your mind."

I didn't know how to respond. "Uh. No. I'm, well, yeah, I guess I just didn't get enough sleep last night. I'll be okay."

"I thought it might be something more serious. Is everything okay with you and Marie?"

That made me smile. I reassured Meredith that everything was great with my wife and me. "Marie and I are fine. I even let her sleep in this morning."

"That's good to hear. You two are the closest thing Mike and I have to represent the ideal couple. Tell you what. How about if Mike and I babysit for you tonight. Megan can stay with us. If she wants."

"Wow! That's nice of you to offer. Class will be over soon, and we can ask her. Ya know, just last night, Tammy spent the night at our house. But, at their age, the girls are always happy to have sleep-overs. And they are always trading clothes. I sometimes lose track of what clothes are hers and what belongs to someone else."

Meredith agreed, then added, "Well, I'm sure that with the number of times my Jasmine has slept over at your house, she's got plenty of Megan's things in her closet and drawers." I assured her the same was the case with Megan's closet and dresser. "Anyway," Meredith continued, "What I was getting at was you two have hosted more than your share of sleep-overs. Let us return the favor. You and your lovely wife deserve a night to yourselves"

My mind raced with ideas of just how Marie and I could use a childless evening. "That sounds like a nice idea."

Then Meredith sweetened the pot. "Mike and I have some extra tickets to a family show in the city. If it's alright with you, we could take Megan along."

You know that I jumped all over that plan.

And that is exactly how things worked out. Both Megan and Tammy were invited to spend the night and Jasmine's.

My imagination went wild. Marie and I would have the house to ourselves. From the time I got back home until mid-day Sunday! OH BOY!!!

Back in the car, it was all I could do to drive safely. My mind was filled with thoughts and plans of how my wife and I would utilize so much time alone. The next twenty-four hours would be ours. Just the two of us cavorting naked and screwing in every room. Like a second honeymoon. I knew that a great deal of my time would be spent licking and lapping Marie's newly shaved pussy.

[Hey! With any luck, I'll even get a chance to fuck her.] Never before had the opportunity to fuck a bald pussy presented itself. Now would be the perfect chance. That thought caused me to twinge. [Before last night, Marie had never shaved her pussy. And then some stranger got to fuck it before me! How is that fair?]

Having a bald pussy must have presented a whole different set of sensations for Marie when getting fucked. Only I was left out of being the first. Instead, Marie got to test it out with a stranger. [Well, that was then, and this is now. From now on, it will be my pelvic bone mashing against hers. And now that I am also clean-shaven down there, I can't wait to discover if there is any difference with being hairless. No more curlies in the way. Just skin to skin.]

It had been so long since I last shot my cum inside my wife. And aside from one accidental orgasm at the lingerie boutique, I hadn't cum in weeks. I was overdue for a good fuck. I was also very, VERY hungry for creampie.

[Hey! That's right. Omar wore a condom. Even he didn't get to make a creampie. Well, now it's my turn. I've been really good. I haven't masturbated or even played with myself. My balls and prostate are really full. What a great creampie I'll be able to make. Marie has GOT to let me come now. Mmmm. I can't wait.]

This called for a special extra something. Stopping at the local florist and bought a big bouquet of flowers. Next, I stopped to pick up some light, between sex snacks. Cheese squares. Sliced pepperoni. Grapes. You get the idea. Finally, to the liquor store to buy a couple bottles of wine.

Yes, sir! Good times were about to be had.