We Wonder, Then We Wander

My husband and I didn't have sex very often, and when we did if was brief and business like, not very tender or loving, but when he asked me if I had ever thought of going to a swingers resort, I was shocked. I told him no, of course, and that was true, until, that is, he mentioned it, and then I could think of nothing else. Sex was not an important part of our lives, and it hardly ever happened. It just didn't seem to me like good wives thought of such things: having sex with other people's husbands was for women in novels with virile men without shirts on the covers and heated, sexy stories inside about women who had affairs with masculine gardeners.

I had never even given it one single thought until he brought it up to me and made me think of it constantly after that. I then began reading those kind of novels you find in bookstores that have curtains across one doorway that says you have to be over a certain age to go in. I was astonished that people actually wrote about doing that stuff, and I was even more astonished that some people may actually be doing some of that nonsense, since I thought people only did that in videos you had to rent from back rooms in X-rated bookstores that had private booths you had to rent by the hour.

I asked him why would I want to have sex with someone else, but after he asked me I really wanted sex with someone else. It was a total conundrum. I had not thought about sex with anyone else until he asked me about having sex with someone else. Then it became an obsession.

The first book I read was Lady Chatterly's Lover, then Leaving Cheyanne, about a woman loving two men and giving each a son, and then Unfaithful, about a woman who just can't help it. It seemed like everywhere there were stories about women with lots of men. I barely had the one I was married to, I realized.

I began looking at men differently. All men. Instead of just seeing them as people, individuals who had lives and jobs and families, I began seeing them as possibilities, prospective lovers who had a potential interest in me. I began fantasizing, something I had never done before, and I began to enjoy it. I began actually fingering myself and masturbating to climaxes illustrated with either the images from my books or actual photos from magazines, often men's pictorials that had an endless supply of steamy photographs.

I still couldn't tell my husband that I was suddenly interested in attending a mate-swapping function when I couldn't even tell him I was reading Lady Chatterly's Lover, but the reality was I could not think of anything else. When I looked through a woman's magazine at the dentist's office, I looked for articles about infidelity and wife swapping groups, about desperate housewives and essays about how unnatural monogamy is or whether or not women actually could be faithful to one man. Then I read Fanny Hill, Insatiable, and Fifty Shades of Gray. After the first two, I was convinced I needed a sex life. Then I read Unfaithful, about a woman who had multiple affairs with a great many men.

I wanted to talk to another woman about it, but I was afraid to mention it to most of my friends, but Colleen would know. She was the most worldly of my friends, so I asked her. "Oh heavens yes, darling, I have been fucking other men since Clyde was a cadet," she said with her usual nonchalance. "Are you thinking about taking on a suitor?" she asked casually.

"Oh no," I said. "I was just wondering about it."

"Wondering is the first step, sweetheart. Don't you know that? You got to wonder about it first. We all do that. We wonder, and then we wander," she said with a smile. "You're about to the wandering stage. I can tell. You just need to get fucked. Is there anyone who you are wondering about, specifically?" I told her no, which was true, no one specifically. I just was thinking about being fucked in general terms. I told her about what I had been reading and her smile broadened.

Being fucked. I had never even thought those words before. "When you get specific, let me know," she said. "I just love to hear about a sister getting her cheater's cherry broken," she said casually. "It is a lot larger club than you probably realize," she said.

When I got home I kept thinking about what Colleen had said about the number of women who involve themselves in sexual pleasure with men they're not married to. If Dave was asking me about a swinger event, then he was thinking about expanding his horizons as well. I couldn't see him attracting the sexual interest of a horny young wife and I know that is a terrible comment about myself. Why would I be satisfied with what I thought no none else would want? I am not sure when I decided it, but somewhere between the 'how could you ask me that' and the 'I really might consider it' that I told myself I should go for it. That I should treat myself to a sexual gratuity and actually find myself a boy toy. If other woman, like Colleen, could pleasure themselves with non married human flesh, then I could I thought in an uncharacteristic rush that caught me by surprise.

I began planning my strategy. I started looking in places I never would have even considered just a few days before. I started checking the internet for websites that specialized in 'sexual topics' and reading everything they had to say. Most were full of profiles of men looking for a connection. That is not what I wanted. What I wanted, I guess, was one of those men on the covers of the books to come and take me, to cover my mouth with kisses, and smother me with sex.

When I left the house determined to find my secret love, to put myself into the mix of housewives involved in extramarital sex, I figured I should talk to Colleen. When she saw me she just beamed. "Are you here to tell you've gone specific?" she asked. I just smiled back. "Come tell Collee all about it," she said.

I told her I just needed to understand myself sexually, because I never have. I thought I was one person and found I was totally someone else. I explained how he had asked me something that I could not stop thinking about, about the books I'd read and what went through my mind as I read them. I told about my deep sexual desires, and how I wanted to get to know myself. She told me everyone finds out about themselves when they confront their sexuality. I suspect that was true, but I had no firsthand knowledge.

My husband and I had sex, of course, but in doing so I never learned about myself sexually. We never had sex very often, but I never allowed myself to see the real me, to let myself go enough to find out who I was, what I liked, what I yearned for, and what I just had to have to survive sexually. I guess before I didn't really know who I was or what I missed. I was finding that I am a more sexual person than I ever realized before.

I asked Colleen how I could find myself, what I should do for just me, and she smiled and patted my hand. "You should do what pleases you, what makes you want to get up each morning and look forward to an exciting orgasm in the afternoon. You need to please yourself, my dear, and you don't need a man for that, but they can help a great deal find your special spot, your secret garden. You know what I mean?" she asked. "I do think you need a lover," she said taking my hand. "And you do too, right?" I nodded, and smiled shyly. "Man or woman, you need to find one."

"Where do I find one?" I asked.

"At the library," she said. "Guys at the library are not looking for a one-night stand. And usually they're not too drunk to drive you home." I laughed and told her she was my sage. "You don't need a sage, sweetheart, you just need a good lay."

I nodded, accepting the fact that I was going to really go out and get myself a man who would want to fuck me. I was determined, which was unlike me, but things had been changing in me since my husband asked me the swingers question.

"You go get yourself a good book, put your feet up and wait for your Prince Charming. Don't you dare go to a bar. Those men you shouldn't touch with a ten foot sword." We both laughed and she gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Now go, darlin', and get yourself fornicated."

As I drove away from Colleen's house, my mood was cheerful and full of eagerness. I was ready to allow myself to enjoy something I have always been restricted from doing. I had always restricted myself. Whether it was virtuous or not, now I was ready.

Three days after I first spent time in the library, as Colleen had suggested, the man came in and somehow I knew I had laid eyes on my champion. His name, I learned by asking the librarian, was Kyle, and he spent time reading in the sociology section.

It took two days to work up a conversation with Kyle. How could I walk up to a stranger and say, "Hi, my name is Claire and I am looking for a man to fuck me while my husband is at work." We smiled a few times at each other and then on the second day I asked him if he had a suggestion for a book on sociology. He brightened, then asked if I was interested in sociology. I said I was now and he seemed to enjoy the silliness of that answer.

We started to chat and after thirty minutes he asked me if I wanted to get a cup of coffee. I said I did and 'my affair' was put in motion. I told him right off I was married and he was confused. "I am giving myself a hall pass to make a new friend," I said. He smiled and took my hand.

"What does a married lady allow herself to do with her new friend?" he asked. I smiled and said that remained to be seen. He asked after our coffee was nearly finished if I would like to see what sociology books he had at home. I nodded and my heart began beating faster.

At his apartment I stood at the door and my heart beat could be heard for blocks, I was sure. Once inside I decided delay was not called for, so I began to unbutton my blouse. I was naked before I knew it and he helped me to his bed. It didn't take long to move into position and he was on his knees before me on the bed. With lightning speed I had gone from a faithful housewife to a woman with a mission and a desire to be taken by a stranger on his bed.

Before I realized what I had done he was in my vagina and I was pulling his body towards me and humping against his with all the energy I could summon. I wasn't thinking of having a husband when he pushed himself into me, and I wasn't thinking about marriage vows when I came with a shout and called out his name. I wasn't thinking about being faithful or committed to someone else when I squeezed his erection with the muscles of my vulva and held him tight.

I just thought how good it was feeling and how long it had been since I felt so good. Having sex was something I avoided with my husband and I had not enjoyed it in years. When we were both spent and exhausted, draped over the bed like wet sheets, we both relaxed and he then moved without asking to down by my belly, then he parted my legs and put his mouth against my wet sex, curling his tongue into me and reaching deep inside of my vagina.

I opened my legs wider and he moaned as he licked and lapped at my moist lips. I shuttered as I had the second orgasm of the afternoon, then I looked down at his head between my thighs and I smiled at the sight of a man being there. I had not had my husband do that to me for years, he didn't like it, since he thought it was dirty and would not do such a thing. He had once, then made it clear it was not for him.

I wondered if he ever did go to a swinger event if he would ever eat another woman's pussy. I doubted it, because he had such a reaction against it all the years we were married, but people change, I was proof of that. I wasn't sure how well I knew him, since I really hadn't known myself all that well.

I didn't regret spending the afternoon with Kyle, because as Colleen had said, I had to look after myself. I had to be in charge of my own pleasure, and that's what I had done. I had taken charge when the person I was married to hadn't cared anything about my pleasure.

Many might say I am kidding myself, but I am convinced I am a better wife, happier and more able to be a good partner to my husband now that I am looking after myself and not totally dependent on someone else. It may not be for everyone, but it is working for me.

Kyle and I see one another at least once a week now, and I feel good about myself. I love sex, and I regret it took so long to find that out.