Wandering Wives, Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Even almost a year after I did it, I don't know why I responded to the unsolicited e-mail that appeared in my Inbox one evening. (I don't call the stuff "spam", because unlike the e-mail garbage, real Spam is useful stuff). Anyway, I did read it, out of boredom or whatever, and because of that simple action, my life was changed forever.

It was an advertisement for a Website that supposedly was a worldwide registry for wife-swapping clubs, and that had links to local clubs that were "guaranteed" to be close to me. It was probably that single thing, more than anything else, that captured my interest, because I'd been thinking about that very subject quite a bit in the months leading up to receipt of the letter. Although I hadn't said anything about such a thing to my wife, I was trying to think of some way to broach the subject in a way that wouldn't make her think I was tired of her.

I suppose when most men think of having sex with another woman, and their wives doing the same with another man, their interest is mainly with the excitement of getting some strange pussy. In my case, though, the part that excited me most was watching another man fucking my wife. Most of my sexual fantasies were on that subject, and many were the times I would jack off to the image of Sherry lying there with her legs spread while some big-dicked stranger pumped away at her. As you've probably already imagined, my most important part in the proceedings came a short time later when he'd pulled out of her pussy, and she ordered me to "clean up the mess". There's no way I can explain why such a thing was exciting to me, so all I can do is just state it and go on with my story.

After I had clicked the link in the letter, my browser opened and loaded the Website. Like all such sites, that one was full of photos of naked women and men in various sexual positions. The text was mainly concerned with extolling the virtues of wife swapping, and explaining all the "benefits" that married couples would derive if only they'd participate in the activity.

It took me several seconds to find the button that was labeled "Local Clubs", but when I did I clicked it. It opened a page that asked me to specify my country, and when I had done so I was taken to a full-screen map of the United States. After clicking my home state, I then saw a map of just that area. The instructions were to click my approximate location in the state, and then in the next map, my city of residence.

At last I saw a map of my city, and my final click was on our neighborhood. That opened a list of clubs, with a description of their approximate location, and a telephone number to call for more information. I was disappointed to see there were none listed for the part of town in which we lived, although there was one which was less than half a mile from our house. I guessed that was "local" enough for me, so used its linking button to go to another Web page.

That page was modeled after the parent site, although it was much less garish. At the top was the name of the club, "Wandering Wives", and below that was a statement explaining the purpose of the club, and the requirements for membership. As could be expected, there were no last names given, and the photographs of the club officers had a single first name only as identification, and they were wearing masks that covered the upper parts of their faces. That wasn't surprising to me, since I was sure members would value their privacy, given the nature of their activities.

Those particular activities were described in detail in the next paragraphs, and I've copied them here in their entirety so you can maybe understand why they were so exciting to me.

"Wandering Wives seeks to live up to its name. We're not quite the typical wife-swapping club you may be familiar with. We have no problem with those clubs that are composed of couples only, and whose purpose is to arrange sex between the husband of one couple and the wife of another, and vice versa. That sort of activity is fine for those who desire it, but we choose to go beyond that."

"Our primary purpose is to provide an outlet for wives who want to fuck men other than their husbands. The men who participate must meet two very important requirements: Their cocks must be much larger than normal, and they must know how to use them. Whether the man is handsome or not does not matter in the least. We care about measurements and style only. Little-dicks needn't bother to apply; they won't be accepted. However, if they are married to one of our members, then they're certainly welcome to watch their wife being fucked. Maybe she'll even have a job for them afterwards. Who knows what happens behind closed doors?"

By the time I had finished reading that, my cock was hard. My favorite image ran through my mind over and over, and it was of my wife lying there spread wide open. Her cunt was still stretched from the recent visit of the monstrous cock lying beside her, and the freshly-deposited cum was beginning to run out of it. She was beckoning me to her side with one hand, and pointing to her crotch with the other. I knew what was required of me.

When I was again able to concentrate on the screen, I continued reading and scrolling until the bottom of the page was reached. The final line invited me to navigate to the next page, and see some of their members "in action". I wasted no time in doing just that, and was soon watching as several thumbnail photos loaded. Each was of a nude man or woman, in full-frontal pose. The men all had erections, and of course they were very large when compared to my own normal-sized 6" tool. The women were of various ages and had nice bodies, although I couldn't really tell much about them. Every person was wearing duplicates of the masks I had seen on the first page, but of course I wasn't really all that interested in their faces anyway.

Below the thumbnails was text asking me to subscribe to the Website, so that I could see the members sucking and fucking. As a further inducement, it said that if I clicked on one of the small pictures, I could see a few sample photos of that member doing his or her stuff.

There was one thumbnail of a woman, with the name "Cassie" as the caption, who was my wife's approximate shape and hair color, and I thought it would be exciting to see her sucking and fucking a big-dicked man, and fantasizing that it really was my Sherry doing those things. I clicked that particular photograph, and was taken to a page that displayed a large image of the woman kneeling in front of a man, with his cock in her mouth. I knew right then that it really was "fantasy", because my wife simply refused to allow my penis anywhere near her mouth. She had sucked me for a couple of seconds on fewer than a dozen occasions during the years we'd been married, and those had happened in the first few months after our wedding. The caption below the photo read, "Cassie is the most accomplished cocksucker in our club", which made my fantasy even more difficult to believe.

The second photo showed the woman's head drawn back from the cock, with her mouth wide open and her tongue extended. Cum was spurting from the cock and landing on her tongue. If I had any doubts before about it maybe being Sherry, that totally convinced me. I remembered the only occasion when she had been too slow in getting my penis out of her mouth, and the first spurt had happened. She gagged and spit so much that I was sure she was going to puke in the bed. There was no way she'd ever do what the woman in the photo was doing. Again, the caption that read, "Cassie loves eating cum", cooled my fantasy. I was hoping the next picture, farther down the page, would be closer to something my wife would actually do, so that I could incorporate it in my fantasy.

As I scrolled down the page, I could see that the third picture showed her lying on her back over a tabletop. Her legs were wide open as her feet rested on the floor. A very hairy man was standing between her legs, with the tip of his monstrous penis just entering her pussy. Again I savored the sight, trying to convince myself it was Sherry being fucked like that. In my mind, I said things like, "Yes! Fuck her harder. Put every inch of that monster in her cunt. Fill her with your cock, and then pump her full of your cum. Hurry so she can make me service her!" The caption this time was more helpful, as it read, "Cassie can't wait for Dirk to fill her pussy with cum, so she can take it home to her little-dick husband."

As I scrolled down to the final picture, the man had pulled his slimy penis out of her pussy. The photo was a close-up of her crotch, showing her pussy still gaping wide from the stretching it had just received. The first gobbet of his cum was shining in the opening, almost ready to fall from its home. The final caption was a real turn-on for me. It read, "Your midnight snack is ready, hubby. Come and get it!"

I had been stroking my erection through my jeans for several minutes by that time, and that sight was enough to put me over the edge. As I felt the jism begin to boil up my shaft, my eye turned to something on the woman's inner thigh, just a couple of inches below her pussy. Never in my life had I been in such a state of shock as I realized what I was seeing!

There, displayed for all to see, was the exact birthmark I'd been seeing between my wife's legs for years now. When I ate her pussy, that mark had featured prominently in my lovemaking. It was about 1" overall in size, and in the shape of a cat's head. I had kissed it many times, and had referred to it as her "kitten", since it was right next to her pussy. I knew there could not possibly be two identical birthmarks in the whole world, yet here was one on the thigh of this woman lying there with a stranger's cum running out of her cunt!

By that time nothing could have stopped my climax, and my cock began to fill my undershorts with its slimy seed. I don't know if what I was gazing at, even in my near-shock condition, made my orgasm longer than usual, but it seemed to me that it would never stop. Spasm after spasm erupted from my cock, until finally one last surge signalled the end.

I sat there gasping for breath, my fogged-over eyes locked on the birthmark, trying to come to terms with what they were telling my brain. The eyes said, "It's Sherry!" The brain said, "It can't be!" That dialog went on and on for what seemed like hours, until finally I came to full consciousness and my breathing evened.

Still I stared at the screen, unable to fully accept the fact that it was my wife in those photos. My wife who had sucked another man's cock, even to the point that he had shot his cum into her mouth. My wife who had lay back over a table so he could stick his oversized penis in her precious pussy. My wife who had been filled with his cum, and then lay there with her legs spread so a photograph could be taken of her dripping cunt.

Finally I scrolled back up the page, to the first photo. It had shown her head in profile from the left side, and I knew the final confirmation was there. My wife had a tiny mole on her neck, just below her left ear. If that were visible in the picture, then I would have no choice but to accept that "Cassie" was really and truly Sherry.

It was with a feeling of anticipation, as much as dread, that I centered the first photo in the screen and then leaned forward to look closely. The mole was there! Now there could be no doubt whatsoever. It may be statistically possible that there would be two women with identical birthmarks, but to also expect they would have identical moles was not. I at last accepted as fact what I had intuitively known for several minutes. It was indeed my wife who had sucked another man's cock, had swallowed his cum, had fucked him until he climaxed deep inside her, and then had said she would soon be bringing that cum home to feed to me.

I don't know how long I sat there staring at the screen before I finally came to terms with what had changed in my life. I had been fantasizing about just exactly what I had seen, and maybe some think my reaction would have been pleasure that the fantasy had finally come true. The reality, however, was entirely different. To say I was torn between two emotions would have been putting it mildly. My mind was in utter turmoil. Over and over, the four photos flashed through my brain. Time after time I visualized the captions. The warring emotions of extreme jealousy and erotic excitement fought hand-to-hand combat in my head.

As I finally understood I must close the browser and change my underwear before Sherry returned home from her grocery shopping trip, I became aware that my cock was still rock hard. I don't know that it had ever softened in the minutes since my orgasm. It seemed that the brain between my legs was not a bit conflicted by the situation, unlike the one in my head. It wanted more of what had made it feel so good, regardless of who was involved.

I shut down the computer then, and changed my underwear. All the time I was doing that, I tried to think of some way to make Sherry give me the tiniest clue that it really was her on the Wandering Wives Website. I thought of "accidentally" calling her Cassie to see what her reaction would be. Or asking, "How is Dirk getting along?" Or maybe even taking the direct approach and asking her opinion of wife swapping (of course, in this case it would be "man swapping"). In the final analysis, I knew that I didn't have the guts to do any of that.

At that instant, the door from the garage closed, and I knew she had returned. It had always been my habit to meet her at the door and help carry in the groceries, so I did that. We exchanged small talk as the groceries were carried to the kitchen and put away. It was all I could do to hold up my end of the conversation, because all the time I was wondering if maybe she had stopped by the club, and was even now carrying a little "something extra" for me. I wanted more than anything else to tear off her clothes, throw her back over the kitchen table, and bury my face in her crotch. I knew that I wanted to find her all wet and sticky just as much as I wanted to find her not that way. That's what I mean by saying I was conflicted. Anyone who has been in that situation will understand, I'm sure.

What I actually did was exert every effort to act "normally", whatever that means. We had planned to watch a TV movie that evening, and that's what we did. All the time I was sitting there beside my wife, my constant thought was of her lying on that table being fucked by that anonymous cock. It's a good thing she didn't want to discuss the movie afterward, because I wouldn't have been able to recall even the simplest of details about it.

When we finally went to bed, I almost attacked her. After a few perfunctory lip and neck kisses, followed by some titty licks and sucks, I homed in on my real target. Soon I was lying on my stomach between her legs, with my head buried in her crotch. It was almost disappointing to find her no wetter than normal, and with no "extra" juice dripping out of her pussy. Given the stimulation of the photos I'd seen just a few hours ago, my imagination supplied all the impetus I needed, and I was soon licking and sucking to the best of my ability. My only regret was that the lights weren't on, and I couldn't confirm my knowledge of her birthmark. In my memory, both the one in the photo and the one that was covered in darkness beside me were identical. Since I couldn't think of any good way to ask her to turn on the bedside lamp, I'd just have to trust my memory, I guess.

My efforts must have been arousing enough to Sherry to put her over the edge, because she reached her orgasm in what seemed to be record time. It usually required several minutes of eating to make her cum, sometimes as long as half an hour. This time, however, she began to spasm and lock her legs around my head in what was probably less than five minutes. That probably wasn't a record, but it was close enough.

My own climax joined hers, and my cock shot its load all over the sheets it was rubbing against. It may not have been one of my best-ever orgasms, but it was close enough to reduce me to a state of exhaustion, especially when combined with the one I'd had in my pants a short time ago.

As we lay hugging in the afterglow of our shared climaxes, I asked if she'd enjoyed our lovemaking. She replied that it had been better than usual, and that I seemed to be more turned on than normal. When she asked if I'd been doing something "dirty" while she was shopping, it was all I could do to keep from saying, "Yes. I saw some photos of you being fucked by another man, and I was hoping that you'd brought his load home for me."

What I actually said was, "No. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's just that you're so incredibly sexy, and that's what made me so horny." She laughed softly at that, then replied, "Oh. I thought maybe you were doing something you shouldn't have been. Maybe looking at dirty pictures on the Internet, or something like that." Again she chuckled, but her words were so close to the truth that I was unable to join in. Even after cumming twice in the space of a few hours, my cock was still more than half erect, and the four images of her still ran through my head. I was truly fixated on what had once been a fantasy, and had now become reality. I was sure that it would soon evolve into much more than what we now had.

____________________

The above events happened on a Friday, and the ensuing weekend was pretty normal for us. I did the usual yardwork and Sherry did her usual housework. We went out for dinner, also to our usual place. The sex we had that night was unusual only in that it was rare for us to make love two nights in a row, given that we'd now been married for almost 20 years. When we did it again the following night, it brought back memories of the year immediately after our marriage. Neither of us mentioned the oddity, but I was certainly aware of it, and I'm sure she was also.

It was only when I was driving to work, the next morning, that I realized that we had made love three times over the weekend, and at no time had my penis entered her vagina. On every occasion I had given her oral sex, and my own orgasm was caused by my cock rubbing against the sheet. Almost in a reverie, I tried to remember the last time when I'd actually fucked my wife, and was unable to recall anything more recent than at least two months ago. Given what I'd seen on the Website, Sherry obviously had no need to feel my cock in her pussy, and I had to admit that my own fixation on eating her, while fantasizing about what I was swallowing, had made me satisfied with the abscence of intercourse.

It was during those drives that I tried to devise some way to get us talking about what Sherry was doing at the club, and what I very much wanted to watch. I resolved to once again visit that Website when she made her weekly trip to the grocery store that coming Friday, and see if that would help. So that's what I did, just as soon as her car left the garage.

In less time than it takes to tell about it, I had surfed to Wandering Wives. Once again I looked at the four photos of my wife sucking and fucking, but this time I was able to control my raging cock better than I had a week ago. I had planned to subscribe to the Website, because one of the inducements was that videos of the members in action would be available if I did so.

My credit card number was soon entered, immediately accepted as payment, and I was a confirmed subscriber. I wasted no time in clicking the link to the videos, and was very pleased to see one there for "Cassie", who I now completely accepted was my loving wife, Sherry. I opened the video, and soon was watching the short movie of her sucking and fucking a stranger.

There was also audio with the movie, and in some ways it was more erotic to me than the images I was seeing. When her mouth wasn't filled with her lovers cock, she said over and over how good it felt to be fucked by a real man, with an adequate cock. She said many times that her husband had a tiny little wee-wee, and it was no good for anything. It may seem odd to you that such things could be arousing to a man, but they certainly were to me.

The total length of the video was only a few minutes, but by its end I was almost out of my mind with lust. When, in the final scene, the cock pulled out of her pussy, and then the camera zoomed in on the cum draining our of it, she said in a hoarse whisper, "Oh, God! I wish the wimp were here right now so I could sit on his face!" That was all it took to put me over the edge, and without my hand even touching it my dick began to spurt. Spasm after spasm filled my undershorts with jism as my mind played again and again the image of me lying on my back and her lowering her cum-filled cunt to my eager mouth.

It must have taken me several minutes to regain my senses. When I finally did, I said softly out loud, "I want you to do that to me. I want to suck another man's cum out of your pussy while you're sitting on my face. I'll do everything in my power to make it happen." It was more than an empty promise. It was a firm resolution, and I knew I'd move heaven and earth to get us to that point.

My brain had cleared enough to allow me to read some more of the text on the homepage of the Website, and I did so. The one thing that I hadn't noticed on my first visit was the line that referred to the facts that regular meetings were held on the first and third Wednesdays of every month. It was almost a revelation to me to realize that, in my memory at any rate, we hadn't had sex on a Wednesday night in many years. Somehow we had settled on the weekends for lovemaking, and the weeknights were not on our schedule. Not on MY schedule, at least. Obviously my wife wasn't observing that restriction.

I actually could have predicted that particular day on the calendar, because whenever Sherry had a nighttime activity to attend, it was always on Wednesday. Whether it was P.T.A. meetings at the school (she was the Business Community representative, even though we have no children, or so she had told me), chats with her friends, or working late at her office, it was always on Wednesday. It's funny how something so obvious could be so hard to see. I guess that's the basis for Hawthorne's "Purloined Letter", and I'm sure everyone has something like that in his or her own life. In mine, it was an excuse for my wife to pursue her fascination with sucking and fucking other men. Now that I saw the connection, it made me question my own intelligence.

The plan I finally devised was simplicity itself, even though it took much thought and self-doubt to finalize it. The following Wednesday was the first one of the month, which meant that Sherry would probably have some sort of nighttime activity planned. She usually told me about her mid-week plans sometime Sunday evening, and I fully expected her to have something to tell me about at that time, in two days hence.

My plans finally made, I resolved to get through the next five days in as normal a manner as possible, in order to not alert her that something was different. To that end, I met her at the garage door on her return from the grocery store, and we followed our usual procedure for the rest of the evening. When we were at last in bed, we again had passionate sex, with me licking her to orgasm, and my cock emptying its load on the sheet. That repeated itself on the next two nights, and again my fantasies were of her returning home with a "midnight snack" for me. I was firm in my resolve to turn that fantasy into reality when Wednesday night finally came.