Between Jennifer and Marc

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jthemanifest
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by jthemanifest » Mon Oct 06, 2014 9:01 am

I'm on the edge of my seat. From all accounts so far Rob, you and I are brothers from another mother, except for my wife it was a bartender, not a musician. I would love to know what happens next.

viking53

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by viking53 » Mon Oct 06, 2014 11:11 am

This is one of the most stimulating threads on OHW because each installment is so well written and really brings out all aspects of what has been happening. I really hope that Jenn lets you post the two installments you have. Definitely one of the threads I check each time, hoping to see the next installment.

Jan

peaceman75206
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by peaceman75206 » Wed Oct 08, 2014 5:59 am

Please consider this my attempt at encouragement for telling the complete story. This is, as others have noted, an incredibly hot story. It is also a story that provides hope and encouragement to us, the readers, as it is instructive as well as being a hot well written story. We all are learning from Jenn. Please continue.

rickmanger
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by rickmanger » Wed Oct 08, 2014 10:59 am

ditto - please please share. Between this and your thread in the main forum, her journey is simply stunning!

litlgi
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by litlgi » Thu Oct 09, 2014 3:52 am

This is excellent. I've read blown away and can't wait t0 catch this from the beginning. Keep the updates on both cumming!

Righteous
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Righteous » Wed Oct 15, 2014 1:35 pm

So without further ado, here is Jennifer’s reworking of the next part of her saga. It’s completely rewritten from what she first showed me so long ago now. It is no holds barred in that she tells it exactly like it happened. And to tell you the truth, I think she’s gotten off on it more than she’s willing to admit. It’s basically all new writing since in its first form she doled out the story very slowly and held so much back.

I’m still getting off on what she told me, and I know it’s lifted a huge weight off her shoulders since she’d hidden the dirty details from me for so long. The past couple of months Jennifer has been a delight to be around, happy, singing and horny as hell (and that has not all that much to do with our two friends). He playing has also intensified and I think that also has something to do with the story. It’s hard to put a finger on but it’s more direct and emotional. Her musical confreres have also commented on this.

Even though this is headed “Chapter 13” (to keep things straight), it’s more chapters 13 & 14. She is still moithering over the next chapter and I wouldn’t be surprised if she rewrote it yet again. My comment when I first read that one was that she’d pulled her punches. Again, she’s having trouble revealing what happened, but more importantly, how she responded to it. You’ll understand by the time we get to the end.

Rob

===============

Chapter 13

I had on my tightest jeans, a tank top, no bra, no panties. In other words, I was horny as hell since it was the middle of my cycle. I was as edgy as hell as I rode the Metro to Old Montreal.

Sex with Marc had been fairly vanilla (although as intense and exciting as it had always been) since we’d gotten back together, or should I say since I’d succumbed once again to the irresistible urge of having sex with him. Sensing that I was still uneasy, he’d been sitting back, I guess to give me the time and space to tell him where I wanted to go with the elephant he’d brought into the room. We’d also been talking a lot during our trysts, sometimes during sex and sometimes before or after. Everything seemed to lead back to the question: what did I want?

I’d never found it easy to talk about sex, you know that, Robby, even with Marc. When I made love, I generally would withdraw into my own erotic thoughts. Even though you’d ask, I seldom would admit what I was thinking. My fantasies, to my mind, even during the early part of my time with Marc were pretty wild and I was having trouble getting past that.

Marc had sensed that about me, and now he was actively seeking to draw me out. He’d already guessed by my physical responses that I enjoyed being dominated and restrained during sex – sometimes. I had to be in just the right mood for it to work for me.

The first time I let him tie me to his bed again, this time in the centre with my arms and legs fastened tightly to each corner by some very soft rope he’d bought, he slipped a blindfold on me (after solemn promises that he didn’t have something like the previous time in mind). Most of this experience involved him pleasuring me with his mouth and hands, and a vibrating dildo. He teased not only my body, but also my imagination as he talked about the way I looked and twisted against my bonds as my desire grew.

As always, he soon had me nearly frantic with the need to orgasm.

“I will not let you cum until you tell me some things, my Jen.”

“Like what?” I groaned as he slowly thrust a buzzing dildo into me while simultaneously caressing my clitoris with his fingers, just enough to keep me excited but not enough to allow me to cum.

“You enjoy being restrained, do you not?”

“Sometimes…”

“Why?”

“Because it excites me.”

His fingers stopped moving, but he continued thrusting with the dildo. “Why does it excite you?”

I didn’t want to answer, but he had me so worked up, I knew I couldn’t keep silent.

“Because you can do anything and I can’t stop you.”

His fingers began moving again. My clit was throbbing, but his contact was to either side of it. We both knew if he touched it directly, I’d go off like a rocket.

“When I do something…unexpected, do you want to stop me?”

“I don’t want you to hurt me, if that’s what you’re asking. Please let me finish, Marc!”

“Right now, being tied up, does it excite you more than it would if you were not?”

“Yesssss…”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know what you’ll do next.”

“Is that all? What would you like me to do next – if you could tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Surely you must have some idea. You just don’t want to say it. What were you thinking before I began talking?”

“Nothing.”

“No one thinks of nothing when they are having sex. You must tell me.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will stop pleasuring you. I will release you and you can go home unsatisfied.”

“I’ll just play with myself! I don’t need you.”

“And why is it that you are here with me tonight if sex by yourself is so good? You are not telling me the truth, Jen.”

I was aching to finish. Tied down as I was, I couldn’t move enough to make better contact with either the dildo or his fingers. Besides all he had to do was pull away and I was undone. If he’d just hold everything still and release my legs, I would pleasure myself on his fingers. I knew it turned Marc on to no end to let me do the pleasuring on him, thrust myself onto his erection or his fingers or his face until I came hard.

“You must tell me, Jen, or I will stop.”

“Then I won’t come to you any more!”

“Fine, if that is your decision. You come here of your own free will. I am just asking you to be truthful and tell me what you were thinking.”

“Okay, I was…” It was hard to go on. These were my innermost secrets and I’d never shared them with anyone.

Marc waited while the debate raged in my head. On one hand, I was angry that I’d let him once again get me into this position where he had all the power. At the same time I loved relinquishing control to him, to be completely at his mercy. It was an incredible erotic rush to submit to this powerful male. I had always thought of myself as a strong-willed and in-control person, and yet, I found myself desperate sometimes to submit to Marc. From that first time we made love back in the fall, I had been willingly relinquishing control to him — even when I was pushing the buttons like I did that time at his studio. It wasn’t just about the incredible pleasure he gave me that kept me coming back. It was because I was able somehow to surrender the tight control I always kept on myself and just “be”.

That revelation hit me like a bolt. If I wanted to control everything, then I wouldn’t want to be here with him. I ached almost physically when we were apart for more than a day or two. Maybe this whole experience was just about learning to let go.

“I was thinking about you making love to me, and…”

“And what?”

I squeezed my eyes shut behind the blindfold and forced myself to say, “And there were people watching us.”

His fingers began to move again slowly. “What else?”

“They all had their erections out and were stroking them.”

“Were they just stroking themselves or were they waiting for their turns on you?”

“I didn’t know...and that’s what excited me.”

“Good girl. Thank you for telling me this.”

He pulled away and I groaned. “You promised!”

My feet were untied and the blindfold was removed. Marc’s erection was as hard as I’d ever seen it, angry-looking and purple. Obviously, he was very turned on.

He pulled my legs apart and knelt between them. “Put your feet on my chest.”

I did that and being close, his erection was laying on the lips of my pussy. He began sliding up and back. By pushing with my feet, I could angle myself just right, making him rub my swollen clitoris. Every so often he’d pull back and ram himself into me, just a few rapid and hard thrusts that left me gasping. Then he’d go back to sliding along my furrow again.

“Are you getting close?” he asked.

“Oh yessss... That feels so fantastic. I’m close, my love, very close now.”

“What are you thinking?”

“How good your cock is making me feel.”

“Is that all?”

This time I answered without thinking. “I’m thinking of the next guy who’s going to be fucking me. He’s very hard and long. He’s going to go all the way up inside me.”

“And that turns you on?”

Yesssss... I want him to take me hard.”

“Like this?”

Marc moved the soles of my feet off his chest as he slid his cock into me, sinking in to the hilt in one smooth stroke. Holding my legs up, straight, and spread, he rested his palms on my soles, threading his fingers in between my toes. Pulling my pelvis up farther, he began fucking me at an upward angle, sliding across my g-spot perfectly.

I’d been so revved up by then, that it was swollen and the stimulation felt amazing. Marc began to thrust very hard and it was all I needed. I howled out my sexual joy as a powerful orgasm shook my body, soaking the bed as I squirted. He kept thrusting and a few minutes later, I had another equally powerful cum. Then another, and still he kept on.

All the while he was talking to me about how beautiful I looked when I came. How much it turned him on to see me violently release.

Eventually, he groaned that he was about to finish. “I want to fill you, my Jen, fill you with me seed.”

“Oh yes! I want that. I want to feel you swell and pulse inside me. Take me, my Marc. Fill me up.”

He grew even harder and a bit bigger. He rammed himself all the way in and I felt his erection pulse, and there was an extra warmth as he held himself there.

I stayed very late that night and almost didn’t return to my apartment. We talked, made love again (but very slowly and sweetly this time), then talked some more.

Since I’d admitted what I had, there seemed no point in denying it any longer. When I masturbated, my greatest turn-on was thinking of more than one man enjoying me. Often this anonymous male would watch and masturbate. When I and my lover came (usually simultaneously), he would cum. I loved watching semen erupt from his cock, and know that watching me had caused it to happen.

Sometimes I imagined taking men in succession. One would finish and the other would mount me to take his pleasure. Occasionally, there were even more than two of them.

(These scenes sometimes played out in my head when I was with Marc and also with my husband, especially with him, actually. I’d always felt very guilty about that and could never bring myself to tell you, Robby.)

Marc learned all this and more as we talked that night.

On the ride home he asked me directly, “I want to get this correct, my Jen, so there is not another misunderstanding. Do you wish to do this in real life? Or is it just something to keep as a fantasy?”

“I don’t know.”

As I answered, though, my heart started pounding in my chest. I knew what was on offer here.

“Your fantasy also turns me on,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

He was definitely showing a lump in his slacks. I reached over and rubbed it, eliciting a groan from him.

There was a reason I’d let him tie me up again that night I realized. I wanted to talk about this with him. I wanted him to offer to help. I wanted to do what he was suggesting. I was starting to moisten again even though we’d already spent several hours pleasuring each other.

“Will you help me make my fantasy happen?” I asked, not completely believing that I was saying it out loud.

“Most definitely — if that is what you want.”

We pulled up at my apartment door. It was nearly three A.M. I sat, staring out the windshield. Big snowflakes were drifting down lazily. Marc gave me the space to think.

“Yes. I want it. But there will be rules.”

“What rules?”

“I don’t want to see them. I must be blindfolded or something. I’d prefer if they didn’t know it was me.”

“That is easy. We can get a mask for your entire face.”

“Not one of those awful leather things you showed me in that shop.”

“No. It will be soft cloth. I will have it made for you.”

“And I must be restrained. I want that.”

“Of course.”

“But above all, if I say stop, it will stop. I’m not sure if I’m brave enough to go through with this.”

Marc leaned over and kissed me tenderly. “Of course, my dear, sweet Jen. I will protect you.”

I laughed then. “Yeah, and you’ve just spent the whole evening egging me on!”

“I am only making suggestions, showing you options. You have always made the decisions, have you not?”

“I guess so, now that you mention it.”

“Did I force myself on you that first time?”

“You certainly made it obvious what you had in mind.”

“But of course. How could I not want to make love to a woman such as you? I ached for you before that first wonderful night you took me inside you. I still ache for you. You are never out of my mind, Jen, never.”

Our next kiss was very passionate. I was so grateful I’d met this wonderful man who seemed to understand me so well.

“I will tell you when I am ready to do this, Marc.”

“Will it be soon?”

“I think so,” and with that I kissed him again and got out of the car, watching as it disappeared into the falling snow.

Next day, I was completely useless at school, got yelled at by my violin teacher and drifted through two classes, struggling to stay awake.

Had I done something incredibly stupid admitting what I did to Marc? Would I be able to go through with something so...out there? Dangerous? My mind said no, I shouldn’t even remotely be considering this, but my body was saying “Oh yes!”

Two days later, when I was with Marc again, I told him I was ready.

=========

Saturday night. I hadn’t seen Marc for five days because I’d had my period. I was crawling the wall for release since I’d kept myself from masturbating. He’d told me it would take a few days to get everything arranged.

“You are really ready to go through with this?” he’d asked.

My heart sounded like a drum machine totally out of control. “I think so,” I told him for the twentieth time.

“Perhaps we should do, what is it called in English, a dry run? You could pretend that it is someone else and see if you enjoy it. Would this make you more sure of yourself and what you want?”

“Perhaps…”

He was right. Less than a year ago I was incredibly straight-laced when it came to sex. I’d made out with fewer than a dozen boys in my life, petted with five, slept with two and then married a man I was still very much in love with. Then I met Marc and everything changed. Since the fall, I’d been sleeping with someone other than my husband, let him anally penetrate me, fucked him in every position imaginable, sucked him off in the front seat of a car, allowed him to finger me to orgasm in a restaurant, and seduced him in his studio. What had always been just an erotic fantasy I was now willing to do. But I was still not certain if it would be a step too far.

I made a decision. “Okay. Let’s play with the fantasy on Saturday.”

“I would like to take you out shopping in the afternoon. We will have a light supper and then come back to my apartment and…see what happens.”

I went to the school to practise for a few hours on Saturday morning. Marc picked me up near the school (but not too near) and we hit Rue Ste. Catharine for some shopping.

At that point in my life, if it were left up to me, I’d only have bought jeans, blouses, and the odd skirt or dress. Marc liked to see me in other things, so he’d bought me a lot of clothes since the fall. That day we shopped primarily for shoes — outrageous shoes.

Marc was five foot nine and I’m five-five. We went to a au courant shoe store and he picked out some platform high-heel slip-ons that added a good four inches to my height. The wooden soles with a thick heel were painted, glittery, gaudy almost, the wide strap that held my feet in place were black patent leather, attached to the side of the soles by large silver tacks. They were totally something I would never buy for myself, but they were very sexy and felt as if they were made especially for my feet.

I’d worn my tight jeans that day for him and as I was standing in front of a three-sided mirror looking at the shoes, he came up behind me, pressing his body against mine.

“Your ass looks incredible with those on,” he said in English.

I could feel his bulge right against said ass and it made my legs weak. Now I knew why he was so enamored with the shoes. I longed for him to slide his hands up over my breasts, even though we were in the middle of the store. Anybody seeing us would have been in no doubt that we were lovers, and that made my little heart do flip-flops.

“Stop it! You’re making me wet.”

“Mmmmm… I was hoping I would. Perhaps we should go back to my apartment now.”

“You said you were going to get me a dress. And I’m hungry!”

He laughed, told me to leave the shoes on and we left the store after paying.

The day outside was actually warm. Maybe spring would get to Montreal before the end of school. Robby had told me on the phone the night before that back home, all the snow was gone after a rainstorm the night before. I was envious. Winter had long ago gotten to be a drag.

The dress Marc picked out for me at the next store was pretty outrageous, too. Tight on the top, fitting snugly around my boobs and upper bodying. At my waist it flared out. The dark greens and blues did wonders for my coloring and red hair (I’ve always thought I look best in cool jewel tones). It was also mid-thigh. I had to admit I looked very good in it, sophisticated and sexy. Marc said I looked incredibly hot, and I had to admit my legs and ass did look quite nice. At his behest, I’d let my hair grow and it was now over three inches longer than it had been when we’d met.

(So now, Robby, you know the origin of your favourite shoes and that dress you like me in so much. I hope you’re not unhappy.)

“Mademoiselle is going to be turning the heads of many men dressed like that,” the salesgirl told me. “Shall I wrap it up for you?”

“No. I think I’ll wear it. Could you stick my jeans, blouse, and shoes in a bag, please?”

With my short leather jacket (open under the warm sun), men did stare at me as we walked back to where Marc had left the car.

“You are making me very hard,” he said into my ear, now at the same height as his mouth.

No one was near, so I tweaked his cock and whispered, “Good!” in his ear.

Even though I felt a bit unsteady in such high shoes, I did all right. I didn’t think I’d be wearing them when I’d been drinking, though…

Since Marc’s apartment was near Montreal’s Chinatown, we went to a restaurant there that we’d enjoyed before. Dinner was very simple and light. We had soup and shared one dish, just enough to take the edge off our appetites. At Marc’s insistence, we each had two glasses of wine.

“Are you nervous as to what I might do?” he asked over the final glass.

“You said you were going to just be teasing me tonight, that no one else would be taking part.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, Jen dear. There will be someone there — but he will be watching only.”

I’d been pretty calm and collected up until that point. There was a nice small edge of arousal, but I hadn’t been nervous in any way. Suddenly, though, everything switched with that one phrase.”

“You’ve invited someone to watch?”

“I have. You will have the head covering on before he arrives, as we have agreed. He will watch us make love and then leave. It is suitable?”

I took a deep breath, held it, then let it out. Being helpless, totally under Marc’s control with the added danger of others taking part, that’s what this was all about, wasn’t it? I didn’t completely understand my urge, but being taken by multiple men had long turned my fantasy crank. Everything I’d done since the previous autumn with Marc made me willing to at least try to make my fantasy reality. My heart was beating hard in my chest as we left the restaurant and walked back to his apartment.

Once there, Marc and I sat on the sofa and he opened a bottle of bubbly.

“Are you trying to get me tipsy?”

“I am trying to keep you calm. It is easy to see how nervous you are. Do you want to go through with this?”

“And this person will just watch?”

“If that is what you want, yes.”

“Do you mean to say he might take part? I need to know!”

“He will sit and watch unless you say otherwise. I do know that he would really like to take part, and that will certainly be even more true when he finally sees you naked, Jen. I don’t think you realize what a truly beautiful woman you are — especially when you are naked and aroused.” He took a deep breath. “I have never desired a woman more than you, dear Jen.”

I snuggled into him after finishing my glass. We began kissing, lightly and playfully at first, then with deepening passion. Hands became involved, increasing our arousal. For some reason, I was again calm as Marc found the nipple of my right breast, twisting and squeezing it in the way he knew I preferred. My hand was rubbing his hard erection from outside his slacks. When he eventually worked a hand under my new dress, his breath caught and he chuckled when he found I’d removed my panties in the store’s change room.

“I love you, Jen. Truly. You are such an exciting woman.”

Spreading my legs to give him better access, he teased me unmercifully as we continued making out.

“You are very wet, tonight, my dear.”

“I wonder why,” I responded drily, then reality raised its head again. “You will take care of me tonight, won’t you, Marc?”

He pulled away from me, turning my head so I had to look right at him. “We will not do anything you don’t wish to do. I promise you that.”

I relaxed again, willing to put my fate into this man’s hands. Marc would keep me safe.

Marc was stroking my pussy with more purpose now, amping up my arousal. I lay against the sofa back and let him as he kissed my neck and ears. He’d undone the buttons of my dress all the way to the bottom (where they stopped just above the elastic around its waist. His mouth found my left nipple and I sighed deeply. God! I felt so wanton and free lying back on his sofa, completely exposed. For an instant I wished his friend had already arrived and was sitting in the chair opposite watching my seduction (although it really wasn’t in the slightest), maybe stroking his own hard penis.

Marc must have glanced at his watch. “It is time to get you ready,” he said, getting off the sofa.

I groaned, wanting so much for him to continue and take me right where I was. This was all part of his big tease, I supposed. By now, he certainly knew all the buttons to push to get the maximum response from me. Tonight would be different, though.

I was moving into uncharted territory.

We went into Marc’s bedroom where I immediately saw that he had three leather straps attached around the ornate ironwork at the foot of his bed. This was new. In the past he’d always tied me to the headboard.

I immediately knew what he had in mind and my heart began to pound again.

“Come over here, Jen,” Marc told me as he stood by the bed.

My body responded automatically, but my brain stayed over by the doorway somehow, taking in the scene. It was a weird feeling, dreamlike but also very real.

He bent me over and fastened my arms to the bed’s foot. The centre strap was actually a collar on a short chain, and that was fastened rather tightly around my neck, not to the point where it was uncomfortable, but it was snug. The chain allowed me to raise my head about a foot. Marc then knelt beside me and attached two of his velcro cuffs to my ankles.

“Spread your legs a bit.”

I did as he asked, so I was standing with them about a foot and a half apart. Standing up, he pressed his groin against me, as if checking the height. His hard cock was very apparent against me. Satisfied, he knelt and tied the other end of each strap to a corner leg of the bed.

The effect of it all was that I was bent over, legs spread open, but not uncomfortably. With my new platform shoes, I knew my ass was sticking out and fastened the way I was, the feeling I had was one of complete vulnerability. Marc could bring in a dozen men, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. At that thought, my intimate juices began flowing down my thighs.

Marc lay sideways on the bed and kissed me, his tongue snaking into my mouth.

“You are okay, Jenn? he asked after the kiss broke.

I had to think about that.

I was certainly nervous, but now that it was starting, I was determined to see this through. I’d challenged myself to realize my long-held fantasy, and I wasn’t about to back down. I was also aroused as hell — and nothing much had happened yet.

“This is your last chance to back out. Say the word and this will stop.”

“I can stop later if I want?”

“Do you want me to answer yes to that, or are you willing to give yourself into my hands?”

“I…I’m not sure.”

Marc slid off the bed and I watched as he removed his clothes. He’d shaved around his groan and it made his erection look larger (and more dangerous). He was as aroused as I was.

He went over to the dresser and picked up something made of black cloth.

“Here is your mask, my dear. I had it especially made for you.”

He came over and slipped it over my head. It was some stretchy cloth, sort of like spandex but softer and fit snugly on my head, extending all the way down the back of my head to my neck, and on the front went as far as my mouth with a cut-out around my nose. It completely blocked my vision.

“Some of your lovely red hair is sticking out below it. Is that all right?” he asked.

“I guess so.”

“You are still okay?”

“Yes. Just nervous as hell.”

“It is a big step, I know. Now, will you commit yourself into my hands? I promise once again that I will not do anything to you, or let anything happen to you, that you will not enjoy. But I do believe it is important for you to give up all control. That is what you ultimately want, isn’t it?”

I nodded slowly. He was right. “Yes.”

He pulled up the bottom of my new dress and caressed my bottom.

“You are most beautiful and desirable tonight, my dear, sweet Jen, most lovely. I want you very much.”

As he moved closer, his magnificent erection slid between my legs and began rubbing my furrow. The height was perfect. All I had to do was tilt my hips a little and he’d slide right in.

When I started to do that, he grabbed my hips tightly. “No. You are not aroused enough yet.”

“But Marc…” I started to say before the apartment bell rang.

With his cock still resting between my legs, there was no way Marc could fake someone being at the door. Someone was at the door.

“You must excuse me,” he said and pulled back.

I so wanted him to continue!

I heard him get his robe from the closet and leave the room, shutting the door. Through it, I could hear muffled talking and a short laugh — not from Marc.

My heart was again thumping and I began to tremble — as well as have extreme second thoughts about this. What was I doing?

A few moments later, the door opened and Marc came in again. My ears (covered by the mask) strained to hear any sound made by a second person. The only thing I heard was Marc’s robe being thrown on the bed.

I was still trembling when he came over and stood behind me again. This time his cock was pressed between the cheeks of my rear end as he pressed against me. He began rubbing my back lightly with just his fingertips, then the backs of his fingers so his nails gently scraped across my skin. I’d told him months ago how much I adored this and it was just the right thing to do in order to calm me down. Now and then his hands would descend to my sides and reach as far as my hips. I was again aroused to an almost painful level — all the time aware of his erection pulsing with each beat of his heart as it pressed against my ass.

“Is she not lovely?” he asked about five minutes into this.

I froze when there was grunt from the chair over near the door to my right. We were definitely not alone. This was real. My fantasy was actually happening.

Marc’s hands cupped my breasts over the dress’s material, pressing them back up against my chest. My nipples were hard to the point of painfulness. Although I’m not big in the boob department, I’ve always had very long and sensitive nipples. A few minutes of playing and I actually had a small orgasm. Marc was hunched over me somewhat (difficult because with the shoes I was wearing, our height was almost the same). His warm body further made me forget someone was watching our intimate dance.

He stood up again, but his hands began drifting down my stomach, heading straight to the junction of my legs.

“Would you like to orgasm on my fingers?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes, please,” I replied meekly. I could think of nothing more I wanted at that moment.

“Louder.”

“Make me cum, Marc. I want to cum!”

If felt very liberating for some reason to do this. I didn’t want the other person to think I was some meek young thing that Marc had seduced solely for his pleasure. I wanted it to be clear that I was an equal partner in this.

The next several minutes were very, very intense for me. Bent over as I was with my legs apart and ass sticking out, the spot where my inner labia met above my clitoris was open and they were swollen and hot. My clit would be exposed and very hard. Marc avoided touching me there for a frustratingly long time, until he had me squirming around, trying to gain some contact. Now and then, he would stick a couple of fingers up inside me and rub my G-spot.

I was beyond aroused: panting, groaning, begging him to touch me enough to allow my release. Being restrained the way I was, helpless and open, only added to my arousal.

Marc moved to my side. His right hand was behind me and he used that to stick two fingers up inside my vagina, palm down, to rub my G-spot. His left hand, from around front, continued to tease and torture my aching clitoris.

“Do you want to cum, my dear?” he said into my ear.

“Oh dear God, yes!” I groaned. “I want to cum all over your hands. Make me cum, dear, sweet Marc!”

He knew how close I was, and what would happen. We’d played this sort of game many times before, although not with an audience or me fastened to the end of his bed like this.

With all the skill he possessed, Marc rubbed inside me and outside me and I became a wild woman as a wonderful massive orgasm began approaching at breakneck speed.

At just the right moment, he breathed into my ear, “Cum for me, my sweet Jen. Cum for your Marc!”

And cum I did. My vagina flooded his hand as I squirted harder than I ever had to that point. Simultaneously, a bolt of lightning shot from my clitoris right up my spine to my brain where fireworks were set off. I strained against my bonds as the orgasm coursed through me, and it was only Marc holding me up from between my legs that kept me from collapsing (if I could have actually collapsed, bound as I was).

Marc switched around to behind me again so he could hold me up better while I recovered. My God, that had been amazing! And yet, I still wanted more — and I was ready for it.

“Fuck me now, Marc. Take me hard! I want your cock inside me.”

I think Marc just let his emotions take over, turned on as he must have been. He fed the head of his cock just inside me and rammed it home hard. I almost came from the force of it. Gripping my hips tightly, he began to plunge in and out like a madman, something he almost never did.

I began to feel another orgasm approaching and he fucked me right through it, growing harder if that were possible.

I’d completely forgotten about someone else being in the room as I told Marc in French and English just how much I loved his cock and the way he was taking me. I had another orgasm, followed closely by a third and still Marc didn’t slow down. Above and behind me, I could hear his laboured breathing. He had to be getting close.

“Cum in me, Marc! I want to feel your cock pulsing inside me.”

“I’m almost there, my love. Almost.”

A minute later, Marc slowed suddenly and I could feel the swell and mighty pulses of his cock as it flooded my pussy with his seed. This brought on my final orgasm, although the fact that our observer groaned loudly certainly helped things along. I knew at once he’d cum, too. For a moment, I wished I wasn’t masked so I could have watched his cock shooting and seen the expression on his face.

Marc, realizing I couldn’t stand unaided, continued to hold me up and our guest had to release me from my bonds. I could smell his aftershave, hear him breathing as he bent over close to me so he could see what he was doing. My lover was still embedded in my pussy, and remarkably, pretty hard. This had been as intense for him as it had been for me.

Before he took his leave of us, The Observer (as I now thought of him) kissed my left shoulder. “Merci, you sweet girl” he whispered next to my ear in a mixture of French and English, then he shocked me by tweaking my distended left nipple.

I still had a death grip on the top railing of the bed’s foot. Slowly I stood, still pretty shaky and Marc’s cock fell out of me with a plop with the sound of semen dripping onto his carpet. I slid the mask up over my face and looked over to the chair where The Observer had sat. Sure enough on the carpet in front of it were the remains of his orgasm — quite a lot, actually.

Marc had fucked me to oblivion and beyond. We took a quick shower together. He touched me, obviously eager to have me again. I obliged by soaping up my hands and masturbating him, but it was quick and rather perfunctory. On the drive back to my apartment, I fell asleep. I don’t even remember crawling onto my mattress on the floor, but I did at least remove my new dress and shoes, although they were left on the floor where I’d slipped them off before crawling into bed.
It's true what they say about redheads…
The recounting of my wife's university affair: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=28088
And what has happened more recently: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=30613

jeremylynne
Prepubescent
Posts: 6
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by jeremylynne » Wed Oct 15, 2014 2:54 pm

Fantastic. Love how she is able to discover her own true limits.

Righteous
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Joined: Mon Sep 09, 2013 8:24 am

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Righteous » Wed Oct 15, 2014 5:38 pm

Actually, Jenn is still searching for her limits! :mrgreen:
It's true what they say about redheads…
The recounting of my wife's university affair: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=28088
And what has happened more recently: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=30613

peaceman75206
Trainable
Posts: 70
Joined: Fri Mar 04, 2011 5:48 pm

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by peaceman75206 » Thu Oct 16, 2014 7:29 am

Thank you, Jenn.

User avatar
jthemanifest
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Posts: 49
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Location: Central Iowa

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by jthemanifest » Thu Oct 16, 2014 9:42 am

Jenn, thank you for posting your story. I've been intrigued from the onset and reading your bared soul has been an experience. Your hubby is a lucky man.

vicg
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Posts: 150
Joined: Sun Jul 29, 2007 2:16 pm
Location: Texas

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by vicg » Thu Oct 16, 2014 9:46 am

exquisite

viking53

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by viking53 » Thu Oct 16, 2014 1:22 pm

Thank you Jenn,

Once again outstanding writing, full of passion and feeling and describing a journey that just gets more and more enticing. I am really jealous of Rob being married to you, not only because you are such a beautiful, sexy and pasionate woman but because you are someone who can share this ins such a way to really enhance your relationship.

Thank you for sharing with us as well

Jan

54321
OHW Addict
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Joined: Sun Sep 16, 2007 11:31 pm

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by 54321 » Fri Oct 17, 2014 5:21 am

Wow! We all owe Marc a lot.
Dear Jenn, thank you so much for sharing this with us. How lucky Rob is to have a beautiful wife so in touch with her emotions and sexuality.

Every good wish,

54321

Foot69loose

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Foot69loose » Fri Oct 17, 2014 10:32 am

An absolutely amazing recount, very erotic. Jenn was fortunate in meeting an experienced and considerate man in Marc. We are both hoping Jenn enjoys being shared further.
Thank you both for taking the time to write this up. The way Jenn writes you can still feel the passion.
Looking forward to reading the next installment, thanks in advance

couple_uk
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Location: London UK

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by couple_uk » Sat Oct 18, 2014 7:22 am

Foot69loose wrote:An absolutely amazing recount, very erotic. Jenn was fortunate in meeting an experienced and considerate man in Marc. We are both hoping Jenn enjoys being shared further.
Thank you both for taking the time to write this up. The way Jenn writes you can still feel the passion.
Looking forward to reading the next installment, thanks in advance
I would say that Marc was fortunate in meeting someone with Jenn's sense of adventure and the courage to see it through. And so are we... Really enjoying this thread.
Sex is like Bridge - if you don't have a good partner, you need a good hand.

Righteous
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Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Righteous » Sun Nov 02, 2014 8:47 am

The next was supposed to be pretty well the end of Jennifer's account. But when she promised "full disclosure" and went back to revise it (actually, it's more of a complete rewriting), it got incredibly long, so I've convinced her to chop it up. Here's the first section. The next ones will follow pretty quickly.

A lot of what is written here was new to me, too. Jenn pulled her punches in the original account because she wasn't sure how I'd respond, then it just got buried over the years, but has gnawed away at her from time to time. With so much time having passed, she felt it would have been too awkward to come clean and she preferred to have things so far in the past, remain hidden. Then, over this past year, things changed.

===========

Chapter 14

If things had been nuts since I’d first let Marc have me the previous fall, they were super nuts after someone else got involved. I was instantly aroused any time I thought about what had happened that fateful Saturday.

(Thinking back on it now, nearly every time I let things with Marc go farther was on a Saturday. What was it about that day and my sexual adventuring?)

With school winding down, I had my Masters recital fast approaching and I was squarely behind the eight ball. I needed to be in full concentration mode, completely focused on the music I’d be performing, but all I could think of that Sunday was Marc or more precisely the way his cock felt as he’d taken me that night, totally out of control with lust for me.

We’d gotten together the next night. As soon as his daughters had left to be taken back to their mom, I was in his apartment, naked and waiting for him on the sofa when he returned (he’d given me a key). Completely shameless by now, I was lying sideways, one leg on the floor, one thrown over the sofa’s back. Without even touching myself, I was aroused and ready for him to take me.

“You look like you did that first night I had you,” he said with a smile.

“You had me from the moment after that first kiss when you looked at me so hungrily.”

“You’re very wet, dear Jen,” he said as he began running a finger lightly up and down my slit.

“I was thinking what your cock felt like the first time it slid into me. Mmmm…so good. I want you, dear Marc. I need you.”

Marc took off his coat and began shedding his clothes. To further arouse him I began touching myself, so that by the time his cock sprang clear of his briefs, it was already fully hard. I loved looking at (and touching!) his cock when it was engorged.

I got up then, immediately taking his strong erection in one hand and cupping his balls in the other as we started kissing. The way he felt in my hands made me so damned horny.

“I love your hot kisses, Jen,” he breathed. “To know that you’re aroused and ready to be taken.”

“Oh, I am, dear Marc. I am so ready. Stick it in me!”

Dropping to my knees, I took him into my mouth, starting with just the luscious head of his cock, laving it with my tongue, then taking in as much as I could (which wasn’t as much as I wanted, sadly). The room was silent for several minutes except for his groans as I pleasured him.

His hips began to move and it only fanned the flames of my lust to have my sweet lover fucking my mouth. A year ago that thought would have appalled me, now it just made me want to take more.

I moved back slightly extending my neck to make it easier for him to penetrate more deeply without making me gag.

Stay relaxed! I kept telling myself.

“Put your hands on my legs and guide me deeper, Jen. Slowly. Do it slowly. My God! Your mouth feels so incredible.”

I grabbed his ass instead, feeling the strong muscles flex as I rocked him forward and back. The head of his cock eventually slipped into my throat and from then on, it was surprisingly easy. Controlling the depth and pacing, I could time my breathing without too much trouble. I was deep throating my lover. Cool!

Marc’s hands were on top of my head, stroking my hair as he spoke endearments to me.

“You are my sweet thing, dear Jen. You make me so hard. I love the way you give yourself to me, the way you embrace your sexuality, your beauty, the way you smell, and taste, the hotness of your kisses when you are about to explode. I adore everything about you.”

Now that I was comfortable with taking him all the way in, it was welcome when he moved his hands to the side of my head to hold me still while he began thrusting gently. I longed to touch myself between my legs, but I needed to concentrate on timing my breathing.

I was shocked and extremely disappointed when he suddenly stepped back, withdrawing from my mouth.

“I am again being greedy, my dear. Tonight, we should make gentle and unhurried love.”

“But I adored the way you took me last night. It was amazing. I couldn’t think of anything else all day.”

Even to me it sounded a bit whiny.

Marc’s strong hands lifted me to my feet and in a moment he swung me into his arms. I put mine around his neck, pulling his face to me.

“Take me, Marc. Take me any way you desire. I am totally and completely yours.”

He looked at me for a moment, then smiled and carried me into the spare bedroom to his desk. Putting me down, he swept everything on it to the floor and then lifted me up, laying me back.

“I want to taste your sweetness, my Jen.”

Using his fingers inside me and his mouth and tongue outside, he ate me to two powerful orgasms (no squirts, though!), before pulling my bum right to the edge and positioning his erection at my opening.

Looking deeply into my eyes, he slowly sank his entire length into me in one breathtaking thrust.

He smiled. “I am more than halfway in love with you, my wonderful girl.”

“And I you,” I sighed.

(That response would bother me a lot later on, but it felt so right to respond that way to Marc. I was thoroughly under his spell at that point. You might have jokingly said I was in lust with him, Robby. That I was, but it was becoming something more — and that was very, very dangerous. But at that point on that night, I was in love with Marc. Sexually, I was completely his.)

Propping myself on my elbows I watched our union as he slowly began fucking me.

“Have you thought about last night, Jen?”

“All day. I could hardly practise!”

“Did you enjoy it?”

He pushed in to the hilt and waited for my answer.

I took a deep breath. “Yes.”

“Would you enjoy doing it again?”

Again a pause before I answered, “Yes.”

He began moving again. It was slow yet forceful and felt so good.

“And my friend watching, that did not upset you?”

“I forgot he was there, actually, until he…”

“Until what?”

“Until I heard him groan and knew he was cumming from watching us.”

“Oh, yes. He told me he enjoyed it very much.”

“And he touched my breast and nipple. That was…unexpected.”

“Did you not like it?”

“No. It just surprised me.”

We continued making love for several more minutes not really going anywhere but just enjoying the feelings, but then the phone rang. Marc sighed and pulled out of me.

I guessed it was a call he was expecting because normally he ignored the phone when we were otherwise engaged. Still, it annoyed me at the time.

I found him sitting on the edge of his bed, facing away from me. I moved some pillows and lay down, partially supported by them. I didn’t want to lose my arousal, so I began playing with myself. After a minute or two, Marc looked over his shoulder at me and his eyebrows rose. I continued playing while he watched, smiling now.

The call ended and after he put down the phone, told me I was very naughty.

“Naughty?” I asked, looking up at him with a coy smile on my face. “Why is this naughty?”

“Because, dear girl, I couldn’t concentrate.”

With my free hand, I began pulling and twisting my left nipple. “What are you going to do about it?”

Marc’s cock was very hard again. He swung onto the bed but lay propped on an elbow at the opposite end still looking at me with a quizzical expression. Then he began slowly stroking himself, making my little heart go pitter-patter. I’d hardly ever seen Marc masturbate and it was quite erotic.

“Now where were we?” he said. “Oh yes, I remember. We were talking about my friend, weren’t we?”

“Yes,” I sighed.

“So you liked performing for him?”

“It really turned me on, and I think it turned you on, too, dear Marc. You have never taken me with that much force.”

“Mmmm, yes. It was very erotic.” We silently continued our separate play before he spoke. “Would you enjoy doing it again?”

“I think I would.” I was getting close. Imagining Marc’s friend again being in the room was making me very aroused.

“Would it be unwelcome to have him touch you again?”

“I don’t think I would mind.”

Marc was stroking his erection harder now, with more purpose. “Perhaps more than touching?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. I have been thinking about it, but… I’m not sure.”

“Would you like me to set it up?”

“Come to me, Marc. I want you inside me again.”

He got to his knees, grabbed my legs and pulled me flat on the bed. Lying on top of me, he quickly inserted himself and slid all the way in again. I nearly came from the feel of it. We moved and kissed for a few minutes. God, he felt heavenly! I squeezed with all my might every time he withdrew and he groaned, telling me I was his “sweet girl”.

“I want your friend to watch again,” I whispered. “And maybe he can touch me again.”

“He would love that.”

“Would you love it?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then we’ll see.”

I wrapped my legs around Marc’s waist, allowing him to penetrate me more deeply. He responded by thrusting harder.

“I want to change positions,” he said.

He got off the bed and pulled me to the edge, placing both my legs against his right shoulder and wrapping his arms around them tightly. This way, I’d be very snug around his cock and he could thrust hard.

Sliding in again, we got into a good rhythm before he spoke.

“My friend told me you have a very beautiful body. You made him very hard.”

“Having him watching turned me on, especially when he came.”

“Me, as well. He asked me something yesterday when we were talking about it.”

I was getting close. Marc was feeling so hard and fucking me so forcefully. I could barely talk, but I managed to ask, “What?”

“He wants to clean up your sweet pussy after we’re finished.”

That didn’t register for a moment, then my eyes opened wide as I realized what that meant. Surprisingly, it didn’t gross me out.

“He… He wants to do that?”

“More than anything. It is his ‘thing’.”

“And you would like that?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t answer because I was about to orgasm, and it was a lovely one, strong and enjoyable. Marc thrust right through it as he continued gripping my legs tightly. As I went limp, he thrust deeply into me and I could feel his cock pulsing. Delicious!

I looked up at him. “I’ll do it. Tell your friend I’ll do it.”

============

(Marc invited me to practise in his apartment because the hours I put in wouldn’t disturb anyone, since all his neighbours worked. For the next two weeks, I more or less moved in. I still slept in my apartment because that was still sort of “sacred ground”. I couldn’t give you any idea what was going on, Robby, and I needed to be home at night for your calls. It was like an out-of-body experience to be talking to you when sometimes, barely an hour before, I’d had Marc between my legs. I felt ashamed of myself and thrilled at the same time, which would make me feel even more ashamed. I felt I was totally beyond redemption.)

I began making real progress with my practising over that first week. At school, I’d think about Marc and get horny which would distract me — and I couldn’t do anything about it. You don’t just whip down your jeans and go at it in a practice room! Practice rooms were at a premium and if you scored one, you didn’t dare leave it. My across-the-hall neighbour at the building where I had my apartment was an old woman who never went out, so practising at my place was out. Marc’s place was a perfect solution.

The best part was that when he was around and I got “distracted”, I could just go to him and enjoy the kiss of his cock almost immediately. Mornings were best because we could make love as soon as I arrived, then I’d get to work while he got breakfast ready. If I got the “urge” midmorning, I’d go into his office in the spare bedroom. If he was himself practising, I’d go over to him, kneel on the floor in front of him and open his pants.

“I want to make you hard, so that you can fuck me.”

Then I’d take him into my mouth and do just that. During that time, I learned a lot about cock sucking from him, since he’d constantly tell me what he liked and how to do it.

When he was nice and hard, I’d ask him how he wanted to take me. Most often, we’d use the bed, sometimes his desk, or the floor. If I’d slipped on my “fucking shoes”, he’d take me against the wall. There’s something so naughty to have your hands against a wall, ass out and up and have someone so virile holding your hips as he thrust his cock in and out. I’d nearly always come very quickly like that.

Satisfied, I’d return to the living room and continue practising. At first I wore clothes, then knowing Marc enjoyed it, I would practise naked. It actually helped free things up emotionally, too. Marc would occasionally watch and make corrections, but I enjoyed watching the tent form in his slacks. Sometimes we’d wind up fucking again before he left for the Conservatoire. Other times he’d just stand and watch me, saving himself for the early evening when we’d make love properly and for a long time. Then I’d scurry home around 10 so I’d be there if Robby called (he knew the school closed at 10:00. On Fridays and weekends, I’d tell him I had concerts or I was going to a concert so I’d be home late — and I’d get to enjoy Marc for a few extra hours. I only went to school when I absolutely had to.

Two days in to being at Marc’s, he came home early and told me that tonight was the night his friend would come over again.

“I didn’t want to tell you earlier, because I know how hard you’re working.”

“That was smart,” I answered.

I’d been lying naked on the sofa listening to music after a very good day of practising, totally zonked — or so I’d thought. With those words from Marc, my heart was racing. I’d prepared pasta sauce for dinner, so I threw on a robe he’d bought me (satin, radiant blew and so short it barely covered my bum), and we sat down to eat as quickly as I could get water boiled and the spaghetti cooked and a salad thrown together. His friend was due shortly after eight.

While we hoovered down our food, Marc quizzed me.

“Did you like the way I had you last time?”

“You know I did.”

“I mean the position you were in.”

“Yes! I enjoyed feeling so exposed while being helpless.”

“The neck collar?”

“It was kind of tough on my back being bent over that far, to tell you the truth.”

“Hmm… Maybe I can make it better. Do you still want the mask?”

“Yes.”

“While you clean up after dinner, I will make some arrangements. Are you still willing to put yourself completely in my hands?”

I looked across the table at him. “Yes. I trust you completely.”

Marc nodded seriously. “That is good. Know that I may push your boundaries a little this evening, but you will love it. Would you like to have a safe word to use?”

I took a deep breath and thought. This was all about not being in control, not knowing what was going to happen, and definitely about not being able to stop the proceedings.

“I trust you to take care of me, Marc.”

“And I will, darling Jen.”

Marc called me into the spare bedroom about a quarter to eight. He’d laid out my extremely tight jeans, a tight, short blue running top, and of course, my new shoes. He handed me the mask.

“Please put this all on and wait until I come and get you. Our guest wants to see you move.”

“Would you like me to put on some make-up?”

“No. The way you are is fine.” He went out closing the door behind him.

I’d slipped off the robe and put on the clothes, after which I walked around the room, getting used to moving more confidently with the shoes on. The person looking back at me from the mirror on the inside of the closet door seemed to be a bit of a stranger, but once I’d brushed my hair thoroughly, I liked how she looked. I’d never really thought of myself as pretty, but now I could see what men found attractive about me.

When I heard the bell from the downstairs foyer, I knew our guest had arrived. Yes, I was nervous, but I felt more under control than the previous time. I decided I would leave my hair down. Obviously, our guest would know I was a redhead when he saw the little fluff of pubic hair above my slit, so it seemed silly to try to hide the hair on my head.

I sat down on the edge of the bed to await Marc. It didn’t take long for the door to open. I stood and he took my hands.

“You are the picture of desirability, Jen. Will you put your hands behind your back?”

I did as I was told and felt handcuffs snugly encircle my wrists.

“Not too tight?” he asked.

“Kiss me, Marc.”

His lips and tongue were hot and demanding and I responded in kind. Partway through the kiss, he took my nipples, twisting them hard. It hurt a bit, but a shudder of desire ran through my body.

“You are ready.”

Marc took my left arm and led me out into the living room. We walked around for a bit then he stopped me in front of the sofa and had me turn around.

“Lovely, just lovely,” a voice said.

I tried to detect whether I’d heard it before, but wasn’t sure. Even though the words were English, the speaker was definitely a Francophone.

Marc pressed up against my ass and reached around to cup my breasts, my nipples caught between his thumbs and index fingers. I couldn’t stifle a small moan. Already I was very aroused and we’d hardly done anything yet. He began kissing my neck and I pushed my ass back into his crotch.

“The little minx really enjoys it,” the voice said. “I like that. You are a lovely, lovely girl.”

“Shall we take her to the bedroom?”

Holding my shoulders, Marc gently propelled me to the bedroom. Once in there, he removed the handcuffs, and fastened me to the foot of the bed again.

This time my hands were closer together and the chain on the collar longer so I could almost stand if I wanted. My feet were once again spread and fastened by the ankle to the bed’s lower feet.

“Exquisite!” the voice said. “You have a lovely derriere, a most lovely one. May I touch it?

I nodded my head.

For the next five minutes or so, the guest fondled my ass. At one point he asked if it was true I ran. I nodded.

“You have the classic runner’s body. Such strong muscles in your legs and buttocks.”

He must have knelt behind me because I felt both his hands begin rubbing my ankles softly. Marc got on the bed and began kissing me hotly. With no sight because of the cloth over my head and eyes, my other senses were sharpened, smell — I could faintly detect the visitor’s aftershave mingled with my own arousal — and touch — Marc’s lips on mine were soft and hot, his breath on my cheek, and of course, the visitors hands on my skin.

Marc again took my breasts in his hands as we kissed. The hands stroking my ankles began rising higher.

I was getting very turned on, lost in a world of sexual bliss as these two men turned me on with surprising speed. The visitor was stroking up to my knees now and I was near begging that he continued upwards. Juices were beginning to run down my legs and I could barely keep my body still. I groaned into Marc’s mouth.

He moved his lips to my ear. “Would you allow him to touch you intimately?”

I moaned and nodded, not able to resist the temptation.

Some signal must have passed between the two men because the hands stroking my legs moved upwards immediately but with frustrating slowness. My genitals were beginning to throb with need.

If I’d thought Marc was a tease, this man was his master. The touches from his hands varied from almost delicate as gossamer all the way up to strong and secure much like a getting a massage. The effect on my flesh was astonishing. I could scarcely hold my body still. At the other end of my body, Marc’s ministrations on my breasts and nipples were getting me close to an orgasm.

When Marc’s lips finally left mine for a moment, I couldn’t keep myself from moaning, “For the love of God, touch me!”

Our guest did that a few moments later when a fat finger slid smoothly into me. I flexed my knees a little wider so it would be easy for him. The groan I made as he began rubbing my G-spot made Marc kiss me more 44fiercely. I gave as good as I got, incredibly turned on by everything. The man behind me slid in another finger. His palm was facing the floor and he massaged my G-spot slowly but firmly. His other hand gently caressed my clitoris which was hard and throbbing by now.

Marc shifted and suddenly I felt his erection brush my cheek. I knew what he wanted and welcomed it, opening my mouth to allow him to slide in.

“Take it all the way my love,” he whispered as he put his hands on both sides of my head.

I didn’t know if I could concentrate enough on Marc to allow him to push all the way into my throat. What was happening between my legs was too distracting, incredible but distracting. Marc eventually satisfied himself with just having the head of his cock inside my mouth and I did my best to swirl my tongue just the way he liked on the sensitive underside.

By now I was completely immersed in a sensuous, hot world of physical pleasure. Marc’s friend was crooning as he lovingly moved me towards what promised to be a lovely orgasm. Marc, too, was telling me how wonderful I was and how good what I was doing felt. The fact that I was completely helpless tied the way I was and it was incredibly erotic. A corner of my mind told me how depraved what I was allowing to happen to me was, but I didn’t care. My fantasies were coming true.

I pushed Marc out of my mouth. “For God’s sake, stick your goddamned cock in me! I can’t stand this much longer!”

“No, my lovely girl, patience. This will be better, I promise,” the voice said.

And moments later, he was proven correct. I was trembling and moaning, about to completely lose it. Juices were running down both my legs and I began thrusting back on the invading fingers, to speed my release.

My clitoris, when I’m really turned on (as I certainly was then) gets fairly extended. I love it when someone pulls on it gently just as I’m about to climax. The man timed it perfectly and squeezed it between two fingers just I was about to let go.

The result was astonishing. I braced my legs against the end of the bed, knowing that I’d probably collapse if I didn’t, so overwhelming was the orgasm that ravaged me. I remember distinctly thinking the word “ravaged” because that’s exactly what it was. Marc said later that I screamed to wake the dead, so he covered my mouth with his, but I responded with what he called the hottest kiss he’d ever received.

“If ever a woman was completely in heat, it was you, my sweet Jen.”

The man’s fingers slowed, following the crest of my release, but didn’t stop moving. I was gasping and holding onto the top railing of the bed’s foot for all I was worth, completely out of breath. After about a minute, he began assaulting my G-spot again and I was helpless to resist. I needed a cock, but that was being withheld. Marc again inserted his erection into my mouth and this time I let him push all the way in. Fortunately, he understood that I wouldn’t be able to manage this through another orgasm, so eventually he withdrew again, but I was sorry to give him up.

Twice more I was brought to complete bliss by the mans’ skillful fingers. Marc was busy with my nipples, pulling and twisting them in the way he’d learned I liked when I was climaxing. By the time they finished, I didn’t know which end was up. My body felt like it belonged to someone else.

After the third orgasm, Marc quickly moved behind me and slammed his cock deep into my hungry pussy.

“Fuck me hard, dear Marc. Take me! I’m completely yours!”

His friend must have been stroking himself next to me because as I was telling Marc how incredible this all was, I felt his semen hitting my back and left side. I was unable to orgasm again so soon, but Marc sure did, pumping what felt like a gallon into me.

As soon as he was done, his cock was replaced by his friend’s mouth. His tongue felt so good up inside me. I did manage a small orgasm pushing my clitoris against his nose. But I was completely done in.

This time, they laid me gently on the bed after releasing me from my bonds. Both Marc and his friend kissed me, before leaving the room. I drifted off almost immediately.

I guess it was a bit later after his friend had gone that Marc reentered the room, sitting on the bed next to me.

“Come, lovely Jen. It is time to get you and my poor carpet cleaned up!”

He carried me into his bathroom where he’d drawn a bath. With his help, I lay back and let the warmth of it envelop me. Marc disappeared to take care of the other clean-up duties, but returned shortly with two flutes and a champagne bottle, sitting on the closed toilet next to my head.

“You were astounding again tonight, my darling,” he said, smiling down at me. “I hope that you enjoyed it as much as you appeared to.”

I looked up at him as I took a glass of bubbly. “I did. Your friend certainly knows what he’s doing. But why didn’t he take me when I offered?”

“That is not his thing. You made him a very happy man tonight, though.”

“I don’t know how I avoided passing out, Marc. That was incredibly intense. Your cock at the end was the icing on the cake.”

“So you like being taken as you have been.”

I considered for a moment. “I do.”

“You are certainly stretching your boundaries.”

I reached out and took his hand. “You make me want to do that.”

“I make it easy for you to do it, that is all,” he corrected.

(I know Marc wanted me again that night, but it was getting late and you were going to call, Robby. I needed to be home to take that call, and I was troubled by what I thought I should say to you. I was moving away from you, compelled by whatever was driving me to behave the way I was. Every step took me farther, but I just couldn’t stop it. Marc didn’t have a spell on me or anything, but the world he was showing me was one I desperately wanted to explore to the fullest. That night, if you hadn’t been calling, I would have stayed with Marc, and that small step might have sealed our fate, my dear husband. I truly feel that now. I was more than half Marc’s by then. It was as if the sensible part of my brain had turned off. I was just so into what was happening to me and I can see now how he was there to a facilitate the change for me. More about this later.)
It's true what they say about redheads…
The recounting of my wife's university affair: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=28088
And what has happened more recently: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=30613

viking53

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by viking53 » Sun Nov 02, 2014 11:17 am

The journey that Jenn describes is outstanding and described so beautifully. It takes a very strong woman to experience this and to grow in strength the way that Rob describes your marriage and you both describe in the other thread. Thank you for sharing this experience with us.

Jan

Righteous
Experienced
Posts: 201
Joined: Mon Sep 09, 2013 8:24 am

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Righteous » Mon Nov 03, 2014 7:47 pm

Chapter 15

The next day had to be spent mostly at school. Anxiety about my graduating recital was eased somewhat at my violin lesson when my teacher complimented the “emotional growth” in my playing, saying, “There is just so much more passion now. Keep doing what you’re doing!” I had to turn away to keep from laughing. Little did she know…

Marc and I made gentle (and relatively “normal”) love that evening, and for the first time in awhile, I let him take my ass. I found the position I liked best was to lie on my stomach with my hips somewhat elevated. The pressure of Marc’s body on my thighs and pelvis was very erotic. We cuddled for awhile afterward and I actually fell asleep in his arms. It was very difficult to get out of his nice warm bed and travel home alone on the Metro. (He had a very early day coming.)

The next night, he had a late rehearsal with a concert the following day, so I was “Marc-less” for almost forty-eight hours. I practised at the school. By the time we had the opportunity to get together after the concert on Friday night, I was in a severe state of arousal. I needed my fix of his cock!

He had a surprise in his living room. It looked much like a sturdily built massage table — but most of these are higher off the ground, longer, and certainly don’t come with leather straps for wrists, ankles, and waists.

“I borrowed it from my friends who own the chalet where we stayed for our little New Year’s Eve tryst. Want to try it out?”

“Sure. It looks like fun.”

Marc poured some wine first and we talked about the past few days as well as the concert (which I’d missed). It was all very domestic.

Marc said, “You have changed a lot since the fall, Jen.”

“I wonder why,” I replied dryly.

“No, I mean as a person. You are more confident, dare I say more mature. It becomes you.”

“Thank you.” I leaned over to kiss him a few times, not full-out passionate ones, but nice nonetheless. “You’ve changed me.”

“I’ve shown you how to become someone you were destined to be.”

“You mean you’ve released the animal in me,” I teased.

“Last summer, I caught little glimpses of someone special hiding behind layers of propriety.”

“To be truthful, from the first, I was sexually interested in you. It frightened the hell out of me, so I hid behind the way I’d been brought up. If you want to know the truth, I masturbated several times while at that camp and thought about you.”

“As I suspected.”

“How?”

“There was a way you looked at me. You touched my arm a lot and maybe stood a bit too close, so I persevered.”

I smiled. “No. You seduced me.”

“I showed you how to get past your upbringing, that is all.”

“I like what you’ve shown me.”

“Kiss me again, my darling Jen.”

And I did. This time the passion was intense.

“Are you ready to try the table?” he asked after giving me an especially toe-curling kiss.

“I’m ready.”

I let Marc undress me. I’d used the evening before to shave my genital area especially smooth (I knew he loved that), leaving just my customary tuft of red above my slit. Marc approved, especially when he felt how smooth I was.

I insisted on undressing him next. Of course, there was lots of touching and kissing — not to mention a little sucking, and we were soon both pretty primed for action. The table came with two steps to make mounting it easy.

The top was padded and quite comfortable. At the upper and lower ends extensions could be slid out to accommodate different-sized bodies — or so I thought. The way Marc adjusted it, my head was supported on one of the sliding sections with a hole in it like any massage table, but I was quite aware it could be pushed in so my head would be hanging. The wide centre strap was low on my hips so it didn’t restrict my breathing. He cinched it tightly so I was very aware of it.

“You are already getting aroused,” he said as he worked. “I can smell your wonderful fragrance.”

I grinned at him when he ran a finger up my slit and then popped it into his mouth.

My wrists were fastened very near the edge of the table so that my arms were comfortably straight but my hands were off in space. Figuring out the reason for that got me even more hot.

The moveable portion at the bottom was split and cut away. Both halves could be rotated outwards, so my genitals were open and very accessible to someone standing or sitting in between. My ankles were fastened to the extensions by straps with short metal chains that clipped on.

Marc stepped to my head and looked down. “Are you comfortable, my pet?”

I nodded. I didn’t need to ask if he was also very aroused.

He smiled and asked, “What do you think?”

“I think I would not be able to stop any number of people from doing anything they wanted to me.”

“And does that thought turn you on?”

It was getting easier to answer. “Yes. Very much.”

Marc began by running his hands all over my body, much like he had many times now. In other words, he barely spent any time on the parts crying out for his touch. It felt wonderful, but as I got more aroused, it became more infuriating, as always. I was used to this game (and secretly loved it because of the huge payoff at the end), but I played along, telling Marc what he wanted to hear.

One thing I have to say is that part of my pleasure in being restrained was not only the feeling of helplessness and submission, but also to struggle against the tightness of whatever bonds we used. The soft wide bands pinning me down to this contraption heightened those feelings.

“Marc, please take the support out from under my head. I want you down my throat.”

He raised an eyebrow. Doing what I asked, he stood behind my head and once I had his length thoroughly wet with saliva, he slow pushed his erection into my mouth and down my throat. The angle was perfect.

“Oh, my sweet thing, that is so incredible! You take my cock so well.”

I just lay there, allowing him to take his pleasure. I must have been doing a good job because he had to remove himself and “calm down” two or three times.

Then he moved to the side of the table (after repositioning the head support). Brushing his erection against my hand, I took the cue and grabbed it snugly, pulling at him in the way I knew he enjoyed. Because he was still wet, he could easily slide himself through my hand.

He’d hardly touched me for the past several minutes but I was more turned on than ever.

Once he was again close to cumming, he stepped back before moving between my legs.

“The height of this table is adjustable. I adjusted it for me, but it can easily be changed for someone taller or shorter than I. Would you enjoy that?”

I knew what he was suggesting and his words seared my imagination. In the deepest recesses of my imagination, I did want it. I wanted to be surrounded by erect cocks, all hard for me, all ready to give me pleasure, and I them.

Cocks had always fascinated me — although it was only the past seven months that had allowed me to admit it to myself. I loved the way they looked and felt, tasted and smelled. There is a special power accruing to a woman when she arouses males to sexual readiness. I loved it when things I did aroused Marc or my husband or previous boyfriends, making them hard and ready to fuck. The thought of stroking cocks, sucking them, feeling them slide into me, and most of all, feeling them swell and pulse deep inside me, really turned me on. To be desired, that was it, I guessed. An erection was the concrete admission of a male’s desire for a female. At that moment, Marc was offering me the desire of several men — and I wanted it with all my heart, but I was equally afraid.

“I want you inside of me.”

Marc stepped between my legs and teased me for a long time with the end of his erection, almost sticking it into me, then sliding up and down my slit and occasionally around or over my very erect clitoris. He knew my responses so well that he could stop just before I hit my peak. I writhed against my bonds, seeking release, to no avail. By this point, I was begging him to put me out of my misery. He only smiled.

Finally, though, he lined himself up, pushed in slightly, then rammed himself home very fast and very hard.

“Squeeze me as I thrust.”

“Like this?” I asked and bore down as much as I could, eliciting a gasp from him.

“You are such a good fuck, my Jen, so good…”

His blunt, erotic words turned me on amazingly, causing me to cum almost immediately and very strongly. My magnificent lover went off two or three strokes later. It was surprising he came so quickly. Usually Marc could go for a long time. He must have been very turned on.

“I love when you cum inside me like that. So forceful, so good…” I sighed as I floated back to earth.

Marc was lightly stroking the inside of my thighs with the backs of his hands, something that makes me nearly purr. His cock was still buried inside me.

“Jen, what if I had other lovers in the living room right now? Would you welcome them between your legs? Would you like to have a man in each of your hands, one in your mouth, one where I am now, and a mouth on each of your nipples? Would that please you?”

The manner in which he said it made my heart lurch, imagining for a moment that it might be possible.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“If you say the word, I can make it happen. You cannot deny you have been thinking about it.”

With this table he’d gotten, the way he’d attached me to it, and how strongly and quickly we’d both orgasmed (once he’d stopped teasing me!), it was obvious this turned us on very much. I’d had dreams and fantasies over the years where I’d serviced multiple men, and they had turned me on very much, but this was the real world, not fantasyland.

“I don’t think I could,” I said at last.

Even though Marc kept his face studiously blank, I knew I’d disappointed him. After he’d released me from the table, I sat up and pulled him to me, kissing him hard (with lots of tongue) and then whispering in his ear, “I’ll think about it.”

And I did over the next few days — a lot.

===============

Marc and I settled down into this odd sort of domestic life. I spent the bulk of my days practising at his apartment and only went home late in the evenings to sleep.

(Robby, I explained to you how I was at school practising and you’ve told me you believed me, but you’d begun to have doubts. If you’d asked me outright about fooling around on you, I honestly don’t know how I would have responded.

The reality is, I was drifting perilously away from you. Marc and I didn’t have the same connection that you and I did, but that seemed less important, I suppose, because we were around each other all the time and I wasn’t with you, and the sex was incredible. I can’t remember a time where making love with him wasn’t satisfying, and more often than not, he rocked my world.

April was passing and a showdown was coming. While I had never told Marc I loved him, the truth was that I did. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that I could have loved if I’d let myself. I’d made a vow that if I were to leave you, Robby, that I would do it face to face. That was the very least I owed you. I tried to put it out of my head until I’d done my recital and completed everything for my masters since I had to focus all my thoughts on the fast-approaching recital. Problem was, sex with Marc had become the second-most important thing in my life.)


Since his teaching was winding down, Marc was home more. I’d get to his apartment by eight, letting myself in. I’d get coffee brewing, then remove my clothes and join him in bed. (Unless someone came over or I had to go out for some reason, I wouldn’t don clothes until it was time to go home.) Our early morning romps were generally pretty vanilla. If he wasn’t hard, I’d either climb under the covers next to him and cuddle against him, stroking him to hardness, or I’d pull the covers back and suck on him until he was nice and hard. Either way, I’d then mount him, and we’d be off to the races. I loved facing him, my hands back on his knees. By angling my hips, I could drive his cock beautifully against my G-spot and bring myself to several wonderful orgasms. He’d gaze up at me, a crooked smile on his face, encouraging me to tell him exactly what I was feeling. Occasionally, he’d already be awake enough and would take charge of me. Those times could be very interesting and generally a lot less vanilla.

Twice more we let his friend join us, and like the other times, he was satisfied to take it no farther than licking me to furious orgasms. The guy gave the best head I’d ever enjoyed. Marc was a master at it, but his friend was the master’s master. It was as if he could get right inside my head and do exactly what I wanted and needed at exactly the perfect time. After Marc had cum inside me, he would lick me clean. The last time, he asked if I would sit on his face. It was sort of depraved but it turned me on so much, I came twice more before he’d finished. I almost took the mask off so I could watch.

In the evening, we’d often use “the table” or Marc would come up with some other variation — and it always involved restraint of some kind. I’d grown to completely love it — crave it, actually.

I will never forget the night I made my big decision.

I’d had to suffer through four days of my period. My recital was that Friday evening. So for those two reasons, I was climbing the walls. Marc got home around four and I was making dinner. He came into the kitchen and walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around my chest and kissing my neck. His hands shifted and cupped my breasts, his thumbs toying with my nipples.

“Not now!” I said in mock anger. “You’ll ruin our dinner.”

“I was thinking about you all day. My cock has missed the kiss of your sweet pussy.” I could feel his swelling erection against my bum.

“Let me get this in the oven, then I’ll come out to the living room. You can have a quickie.”

He spun me around and kissed me hard. “I will be eagerly waiting.”

I tossed over all kinds of scenarios while I finished the stew we were having.

Taking off my clothes, I looked at my reflection on a darkened window pane and smoothed out my hair. Then I strutted into the living room. Marc was on the sofa, naked and stroking himself. The sight of his hard cock made my arousal grow with every step. He watched me with rapt attention.

I went over and knelt on the floor, taking him into my mouth. Once I had him nice and wet, I moved next to him on the sofa, head resting on the back and my back arched so my bum was sticking out. I felt so wanton.

“Take my ass, Marc. I want my pussy fresh for later.”

Marc got up quickly and moved behind me. His erection felt wonderful as it slithered between my lips while he got it more slippery. The past few weeks it was taking no time at all to get wet. As a matter of fact, I was in an almost constant state of arousal.

When he lined himself up and gave a push, the head of his cock slid right in. With another push, he passed my inner gates and slid in all the way.

“I adore being in your ass, my sweet Jen.”

“And I enjoy having you there, my love.”

I’d said it. Just a moment on my lips, and everything changed for me. I pushed the ramification of those two words to the side so I could enjoy being ravaged by my lover in this very intimate way. Reaching between my legs, I put my middle finger on my clitoris, not rubbing but just letting the force of Marc’s thrusts pushing at my hips provide the movement and stimulation. I was soon gasping.

“I want you to cum in my ass, Marc. Make it yours.”

“It is mine. Oh dear God, you feel good! You are my sweet girl. You will do anything for me, won’t you?”

“I will.”

Grabbing my hips, he began thrusting harder. I knew if he didn’t finish soon, it would start to hurt, and I didn’t want anything to mar our lovemaking.

I turned my head far back to try to see him. “I want to lie on the table and let your friends have me, Marc. I want it!”

I got the desired effect as Marc’s cock suddenly swelled and pushed in to the max. The rhythmic pulsing was quite evident with my sphincter muscles gripping him. With two swipes of my finger on my clit, I also came beautifully.

That night, we made slow and beautiful love in Marc’s bed. Each of us did our utmost to give maximum pleasure to the other. Marc took me in many positions and made sure I came in each one, uttering sweet words and making me feel very loved.

After taking a shower together with just some kissing and playful grabbing (I adored masturbating Marc in the shower but restrained myself from doing it to completion that night), Marc and I returned to his bed.

“Did you really mean what you said in the living room this evening?” he asked.

“I did, sweet Marc. I had an ulterior motive for doing it, but I meant it. I want so much to please you and I know how excited the thought makes you, so yes, I’m willing.”

“Oh my dear, sweet Jen!” he answered, pulling me to him.

We kissed and stroked for many minutes, his fingernails gliding softly up and down my back as he held me to him. If humans could actually purr, I would have been doing so madly.

“I need to concentrate on my recital this week,” I told him finally. “I’ve got rehearsals scheduled with my accompanist every day and I’m still not satisfied with the Bach Unaccompanied sonata that I’m doing for my first piece.”

“I will help you with it!”

“You have already, dear man. It’s up to me now. The thing I’m trying to say is I don’t want to think about what we have been discussing tonight — not until after my recital. Then I’ll be yours.”

Marc had a very early morning, so I insisted on taking the Metro home. As I walked from the station to my apartment, the night was cold, but not unduly so. Spring would arrive any day now. The school year would be ended for me after next Friday evening.

(Robby, you’d called the previous week with the sad news that you wouldn’t be able to hear me play, and I have to sadly tell you that I was very glad for that news. The thought of Marc and you being in the same hall at the same time was a frightening one. I silently blessed your boss for sending you out of town.

I nearly called you that night to tell you I’d found someone else. Besides my approaching performance, it was the one thing weighing on my mind and it was a mighty weight. I’d vowed to tell you in person, but I was wavering.)


“Be strong,” I told myself as I walked.

Strong? Ha! I was weak and susceptible, and I knew it. I’d allowed everything to go to hell in a hand basket, right from that first night with Marc. Did I still love my husband? Did he still have a place in my heart? Yes. Unequivocally yes. But I also loved another man. It was very, very confusing, complicated — and terrifying.

But tonight, I’d told Marc I also loved him. I was seriously thinking about moving in with him, saying goodbye to the sweet man I married. It was all such an incredible muddle in my aching head.

I had to push it aside, get through the coming week, and after Friday, I’d try to sort it out.

For once, I managed to keep a vow I made, and didn’t go to Marc all week. I used my libido to further fire my focus on getting myself to the peak of readiness for the culmination of my education. I’d not made much of a deal about it to my parents, and since they weren’t completely sold on my being a musician in the first place, they wouldn’t be there. My siblings were both at schools farther away, so my family wouldn’t be represented at all. My husband couldn’t be there. As it turned out, not that many other people came. My big deal recital was played to about thirty people and the all-important adjudicators. There were some school chums, my teacher, and at the back of the hall, Marc.

I was calm, I was focussed, and I brought all the passion I was feeling from my pent-up sexual energy (I hadn’t so much as touched myself) to the performance. It went well. It went very well. For the first time ever, I felt as if I was totally in control of the music. Marc had tears in his eyes when he came into the small dressing room, crowded with well-wishers. He only gave me a big hug and left with a whispered, “I will be at home.”

Everyone was surprised when I told them I was too exhausted to go out to celebrate. I got a knowing look from my teacher who had definitely noticed Marc’s presence, but nothing was said.

When I got to Marc’s (having gone home first to change into my customary jeans and sweater, he was waiting with champagne and some nibblies.

We clinked glasses and he said, “To the most talented young woman I know — and also the prettiest.”

“Is that with or without clothes on?” I teased.

“Either way!”

I didn’t realize how famished I was until I dug into the very fine pate and crackers. Marc kept my glass filled with bubbly.

“Are you trying to get my drunk so you can have your way with me? It’s not really necessary you know.” I grabbed his crotch. “I know what I want!”

“We will not be making love tonight, my dear Jen.”

“Why not? Believe me, I’m ready for anything you can dish out.”

“Tomorrow afternoon is going to be very special. I have invited some people over.”

He didn’t have to explain what he was referring to. I took a large gulp of bubbly. My heart was already pounding.

Marc put his arm around me. “Is this agreeable?”

“Tell me how it’s going to work.”

“The guests will be in the living room. You will be in the bedroom. When everyone has arrived, I will come and get you. The mask will be in place, if that is your wish. Know that those invited are very discreet.”

I shook my head. “I don’t care. I will wear the mask — and absolutely no photos. I’m trusting you on this, Marc. There can be no permanent record. I don’t want to know who they are, and I don’t want them to know who I am.”

He patted my hand. “I will honour that.”

After a few moments of silence, I said, “I’m very nervous about this.”

“I don’t want you to do this if it’s just to please me. This is to be about you and your enjoyment.” He looked at me closely. “You are comfortable with doing this?”

“Certainly not comfortable, but I do want to do it — for both of us. I’ve given it a lot of thought.” I gave him a long look. “And that’s why you don’t want to make love tonight, isn’t it? You want me to be as horny as possible.”

“I want you to be fresh. Believe me, Jen, I want you very much tonight, very much. It is hard to sit here with you like this.”

I decided to be naughty. “What if I were to do this?”

Getting up, I pulled my sweater over my head. As usual, no bra. My jeans came off nearly as quickly. No panties, either. Marc thought a woman wearing only socks was extremely sexy, so I left those on. I took the champagne flute out of his hand and straddled his lap.

I kissed the tip of his nose. “There! That’s much better. Is this making it even harder for you?”

Tilting his head up, I kissed him very lustily, sucking on his lips and tongue.

When we came up for air, Marc chuckled. “My beautiful Jen, you are indeed a witch.”

“So are you going to fuck me or not?”

He pushed me to the side, and I fell, sprawling on the sofa, both of us laughing. Spreading my legs, I slid the middle finger of my right hand down into my juicy slit.

“What’s to prevent me from doing this? See? I don’t need you.”

A year ago, I could never have done anything like this — even with my husband. Hell, I probably couldn’t have done it if I were alone. The former Jennifer had a hard time looking at her naked self in the mirror. Marc had made it possible for me to find my true sexual being.

As I continued to play lightly and with no purpose, I looked up at him and said, “I love you, Marc.”

=============

In preparation for this huge step I was about to take, Marc had me come over early the next day. He drew a bath and I had a nice soak. Afterwards, I lay on his bed while he carefully cleaned up my pubes, leaving only the red tuft on my mons. Everything else was “smooth as a baby’s bottom”.

Now that the decision was made, I actually felt more calm. After all, one cock or many, what was really the difference? Many times, Marc had fucked me several times in one session, Robby, too, for that matter. The difference was societal norms. Good people didn’t even think about anything like this, much less do it. I was fully ready to be completely outrageous. Tonight, I would truly embrace who I was, completely and totally. My innermost secret fantasy would come true. I was nearly tempted to forgo the mask, but sensibility reined me in. The mask kept things at a safer distance. I had no idea who Marc had invited, but if I didn’t know who they were and they didn’t know who I was, then we would never have to look each other in the eye, knowing our shared experience.

(And Robby, with what we now know about the Internet and how anything there will never go away, it was a far more sensible decision than I knew at that time.)

Marc had some Chinese food delivered, and we both ate sparingly. Then we set up a small bar on the table he used for dining, along with some munchies. For all the world, it looked like any other cocktail party.

I told him giddily, “Only with this party, the cocks will be out.” Looking over the various bottles of liquor he’d pulled out of his cabinet, I spotted an unexpected one.

“Is this really absinthe, the real stuff with the wormwood and everything?”

“Yes, it is. That is an old bottle from before it was banned at the beginning of the century. It was a gift from a very dear friend. I’ve had since I returned from Paris as a young man.”

I immediately thought I could guess as to whom he was referring.

“I’ve heard it makes you hallucinate.”

He took the bottle out of my hands. “Not really. Those reports were exaggerated. But it is very high in alcohol. However, I will admit that the high you get from it is different than from other drinks.”

“How is it different?”

“It seems to have the opposite effect of other alcohols. Your thinking, all of your senses really, seem to get clearer. Considering the alcohol content, you’d expect the opposite.” He held it out. “Want to try some?”

“It really makes your senses clearer?”

“That’s the effect for most people. Of course, it also relaxes one.”

“I think I could use that tonight! Why haven’t you brought it out before?”

“Because it’s very precious. Once it’s gone, I doubt if I could get another bottle. Or afford to, at least.”

“Okay. Pour me a glass.”

“There is a ritual.”

I followed as Marc went into the kitchen. There he got some ice water from the fridge and a sugar cube. From a bottom drawer, he pulled out a very strange spoon, large and flat with decorative holes cute in it in the image of a grinning devil.

“This is an absinthe spoon,” he explained, “also a gift from my friend.”

He got a heavy stemmed glass from a high shelf, poured a jigger of the pale green liquid in the bottom, then placed the spoon with the sugar cube across the top.

“Watch how the absinthe clouds as the water goes in. It is called la louche.”

He very slowly dribbled water over the cube which dissolved as the glass slowly filled. The resulting concoction was a beautiful opalescent yellow. Marc handed it to me.

“Smell, then drink it slowly.”

“And you’re sure it’s safe.”

“Quite sure. I think you will enjoy the taste.”

I took a careful sip. It was cool and lovely, slightly sweet. I felt as if I was drinking a forest, if that makes sense, since it had such an herbal taste. It was definitely not unpleasant.

“The bitter flavor you’re tasting is the wormwood. That’s why sugar is nice with absinthe.”

Marc made himself a Scotch and soda and we sat and chatted for a bit — topics carefully unrelated to what was about to transpire when the guests arrived. It was all a bit surreal.

I’m not much of a drinker, so the liqueur went right to my head — literally. I certainly felt a bit tipsy, but there was a clarity, too. When Marc touched my hand once, a could feel it more distinctly than usual. His lips on mine a few moments later had the same effect. I was also very aware of the rustle of his clothing. Interesting.

“You need to go to the bedroom now, he said, handing me a second absinthe cocktail. “They will begin arriving soon.”

He led me to the bedroom. I took of my robe and I drank the absinthe while pacing. By the time I finished it, I was flying — without really flying. If I’d wanted, I could come up with a thousand reasons not to be doing what I was about to do, but making my fantasy real had sort of taken over my life. I doubted if I’d work up the nerve again. Where would it lead? I had no idea, but I’d never done anything this crazy and over-the-top, and it was exhilarating to be standing at the edge of this cliff, waiting for a breeze to sweep me away. My husband wasn’t a concern (how could I have been that far gone??), my reputation, my health for that matter. Sure Marc had sworn they’d all use condoms, but fastened down as I would be, how could I stop them from going into me unprotected?

I could hear low voices and laughter through the door. My heart was racing a mile-a-minute. I wished I had another drink.

The door opened and Marc slipped in. “You are ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You don’t wish to wear the mask?”

“Oh, right. I forgot all about that.” I picked it up from the bed. “Help me get it on.”

I was busy holding up my hair so it would be hidden by the stretchy fabric. Marc slipped it on and I tucked up the few stray strands.

“I think they will be able to tell you have red hair,” he said, ruffling the tuft at the apex of my legs. “Why don’t you leave your hair down? It looks lovely.”

We took the mask off and I brushed my hair before Marc, standing behind me, slipped it on again.

“Let me see you.” I guessed he stepped back. “You are breathtaking, my dear. Every man is going to get hard as soon as you walk through that door.” His hands took my nipples and gave them a tug before he settled his hands over my breasts.

I said, “I wish they were bigger.”

“Nonsense! You have a perfect body, Jen, perfect! Slender, muscular, a derriere to die for, and your red hair. Larger breasts would not add anything to your beauty and allure.”

We kissed then, a long lingering one and I was suddenly super horny.

“Is absinthe an aphrodisiac? I asked.

“For some, yes.”

“Well, it sure is for me.”

“Are you ready?”

I took a deep breath and held it for a long moment before expelling it slowly. My heart rate dropped to more manageable levels. “I’m ready.”

“One final thing, sweet Jen.” I felt cold metal encircle one wrist then the other, fastening my arms behind my back.

Marc, taking my left arm, led me into the living room. This was it. Showtime.

All talking stopped when they saw me. To be totally naked in front of fully-clothed men was incredibly erotic for me. As Marc led me around the room, I heard whispers in both French and English. There seemed to be a lot of guests. The term “gangbang” went through my head. I was going to allow multiple men to take me while I was helpless to resist. All doubt was gone. I was lusting for it. Revealing myself was indeed an unexpected rush.

By the time eager hands helped me up onto the table, my body was on fire. All the touching involved in getting me fastened to it, ramped my arousal even higher.

Marc whispered into my ear, “And you are all right, my dear?”

“More than all right. How many are here?”

“Enough to satisfy you.”

“Please tell me.”

“You figure it out.”

It started slowly, just light touches all over my body. Two men were massaging my feet (heavenly), one rubbing my shoulders, and one stood between my legs, but was only stroking my thighs and tummy. Slowly the person at my shoulders slid his hands down, coming near my breasts but never quite touching them. The massaging hands on my feet began sliding up my legs agonizingly slowly. It was like having five Marcs teasing me simultaneously.

I guess it was the effects of the absinthe, but my senses seemed heightened. I was aware of two whispering voices across the room at the liquor table. With five around me and two over there, that meant Marc had invited at least six participants. The hands on me felt overwhelmingly fine. I could detect three different kinds of aftershave, and one man had just brushed his teeth with Colgate. I was able to focus on everything.

Over the next few minutes, things intensified. Someone began lightly kissing my neck and ears. Two people were now stroking my upper chest, occasionally brushing over my breasts topped with dangerously hard nipples. Those working on my legs were nearly at my groin. The person between my legs had disappeared. Across the room, I heard clothes being removed. The person at my neck lightly kissed my lips and I moaned at the intimacy of the contact. It had not been Marc.

That seemed to open the floodgates. It was open season on my breasts. Two different mouths devoured my nipples. I counted six people now touching me. Still no one had touched between my legs.

Someone moved between them again, and I heard the scrapping of chair legs. Someone said in French, “My God, she looks delicious.” Then he leaned forward and lightly kissed my pussy. The groan I let out then was from the deepest recesses of my psyche.

My breathing was fast, and I was beginning to close in on the final stages of arousal.

“Kiss me there again,” I sighed. “Lick me, suck on me. I want to cum.”

Two men were now kissing my lips alternately, deep, soul-stirring ones, their tongues searching my mouth. I returned their lust with my own. My nipples were sending bolts of energy to my groin. I was licked from the very bottom to the top of my slit and nearly came. Two fat fingers entered me, and I responded with a smile, recognizing the person who’d been with Marc and me before.

It didn’t take more than two minutes before I orgasmed very strongly indeed, drenching the person’s face with juice.

Suddenly, another switch. Two men put their hard erections into my hands. Someone came up to my head and the board supporting it was slid back under the table. My head fell back. During the ensuing minutes, I felt two cocks rubbing my face and across my lips. I stuck my tongue out hoping to coax one of them into my mouth. Eventually, one man obliged. His cock was roughly the size and width of my husband’s. The two in my hands were not that long, but quite fat.

Someone removed the chair and I felt a new male move between my legs.

This is it, I told myself. Moment of truth.

As a gloriously hard cock slid into me, another one slid into my mouth. Somewhere off to the left, I heard Marc say, “She can take it deeply.” The cock in my mouth was slender but when he pushed in to his pubic hairs, I was shocked by how long it was. Several inches had to be down my throat.

My God, I thought, what has Marc gotten me into?

The onslaught lasted for at least two hours. Even though the men took me forcefully, they always seemed respectful and courteous. I was given drinks of absinthe at various intervals and allowed to rest while they stroked me. Then when I was ready (always asked beforehand), a rush would start again.

When it was over, several hands released me from my bonds, but it was Marc who insisted on carrying me to his bed. The door shut and I lay there with the mask still on, trying to get a grip on what had just happened. I couldn’t be sure but I believe seven or eight different men had enjoyed both my pussy and mouth. Only one had cum in that latter spot (the guy with the very long cock. Since it was already halfway down my throat, I could only tell from the pulsing that he’d shot into me. Of the ones who’d been inside me, two had cum in me. The rest had worn condoms as promised. Since the cock on the two who were in me bareback felt pretty much the same, I assumed it was Marc both times. I couldn’t begin to count the number of orgasms that had wracked my body.

I levered myself to a half sitting posture after taking off the mask. My body was a mess, covered in sweat and semen.

Within fifteen minutes, Marc was back in the bedroom, fully dressed again. He sat down next to me and stroked my hair.

“You were amazing, my dear, brave girl. You made everyone very happy and satisfied, me especially. But most important, did you enjoy it? Did we fulfill your fantasy?”

“I’m too tired to think straight and that absinthe is a very wicked drink.”

“I will draw you a bath and fetch something for you to nibble.”

He was as good as his word and sat with me while I recovered in the steamy water.

“How many people did you invite?” I asked between mouthfuls of cheese and crackers Marc was feeding me.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Eleven.”

“What?”

“Two watched only and did not participate.”

“This is all very overwhelming. Marc—“

He leaned over and kissed me very passionately. “I know what you are going to say.”

“What, Mr. Smarty Pants?” I asked in English, suddenly too tired to think in French.

“That you cannot believe you ever would participate in anything like this. But you did. You are the most passionate and adventurous woman I have ever been with.”

I smiled. “Ever?”

“Yes. I only wish your face hadn’t been covered. The others would be so envious to see your beauty and know you are mine.”

I knew at once how he meant it. Marc had truly fallen in love with me. Why not? I was a very willing participant in his every sexual dream. But someone else had said almost those same words to me the night I accepted his offer of marriage, and I was suddenly reminded that I was an adulteress — and a very shameless one at that. Tonight, I had broken nearly every societal taboo.

Again, I would have stayed with Marc that night, except for what his comment had awoken in me. On Wednesday afternoon, I would be done with school. There was no reason to stay in Montreal any longer. My place was back with my husband.

But I didn’t want to go.

Back in my apartment, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep despite how dog-tired I was.

But oddly enough, I felt no guilt over what I had done. In fact, I was exhilarated, and by next morning, as horny as if I hadn’t cum in a week. Amazing. Here I’d cum countless times the night before, and I was ready to go again.

Such was my addiction.

When I drifted off to sleep sometime after four. It didn’t stop there, though. I had a dream about being in a big room surrounded by men. All were good looking, tall, and well-built — and all of them naked. I walked in, also naked and wearing the shoes Marc had bought me. My hair was piled on my head and I was heavily made up. As I walked past a mirror, I admired how hot I looked, strutting my stuff. Every cock in the room was stiffening with each step I took.

The men lined up and I walked down the row inspecting their equipment, handling their cocks, weighing possibilities. Finally, I had the two I wanted and led them out of the room by their cocks.

I woke up wet and throbbing. The phone was ringing.

“Hello?”

“Would you care to join me for breakfast?” Marc asked.

I was still half asleep. “What time is it?” I asked, yawning.

“Nearly ten. Did I call you too early? I just couldn’t wait.”

“No, no. I was just lying here, trying to decide if I’d slept enough.”

“So would you like to eat with me?”

“Sure. Can you give me about forty-five minutes? I need a shower.”

“Actually, I am downstairs. May I come up and wait?”

“Okay. I’ll buzz you in.”

I had the shower running when he knocked on my door. When I opened it, Marc smiled broadly. Since I would only have to take it off in a moment, I hadn’t bothered putting on a robe.

We wound up in the shower together where Marc took me from behind after getting me very hot with his soapy hands. I finished; he didn’t.

We chit-chatted over breakfast about everything except what had happened the previous evening. The tables were very close together in the restaurant Marc had chosen.

As we were leaving, one of the other violinists from the school came in with a group of friends.

“Marta! I heard your recital went very well.”

“I was happy with it.” I knew I had to say something about Marc’s presence with me. “This is Marc—“

“I know.” She stuck out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“Marc helped me a bit with my recital. I’m taking him out for breakfast as a way of saying thanks.”

Introductions finished, we left. On the walk to the car, Marc asked, “Why did you have to say that? Are we not together?”

“I just responded, okay? It took me by surprised, that’s all.”

“No need to get so touchy, dear girl. I was only asking.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

We were back at the car. He looked over the low roof at me. “What do you have on this afternoon?”

“I have to call my husband at five.”

“That is hours away. Would you like to go back to my apartment?”

“Yeah, okay,” I answered.

I was still distracted, thinking about that chance meeting. It should have happened a long time ago, truth be told. It’s not as if Marc and I snuck around.

Back at Marc’s apartment, we started out sitting on the sofa and talking.

“Are you sore today?”

“Not really. My neck is a bit stiff, though.”

“I want to tell you again how remarkable you were last night, my dear Jen.”

That led to some kissing and then clothes started coming off. We stayed on the sofa a long time, kissing and touching, stretched out and intertwined. I loved the feel of Marc’s body next to mine, his cock, swollen and hard, pressing into my leg.

“I want to take you from behind,” Marc breathed in my ear.

He was behind me at the moment, back against the sofa. His hands felt wonderful as he twisted and lightly tugged on my nipples. His left hand drifted down my tummy and I spread my legs to let him know he was very welcome there.

“Last night, you made every man present very hard as soon as I led you out of the bedroom. I wish you could have seen how you looked.”

“I can imagine it,” I moaned. “Thinking of their hard cocks makes me very hot.”

“You enjoy making men hard, don’t you?”

“Mmmmm… Yes. Very much.”

Marc was now sliding his fingers into me, tickling that lovely spot.

“Your fingers feel so incredible. You’re going to make me cum, if you’re not careful.”

“That will never do, my love.”

Marc disappeared into his bedroom, returning quickly with my new favourite footwear — and handcuffs. He slipped the shoes on my feet, and fastened my hands behind my back.

“I want to lead you around the room as I did last night.”

I’d looked at myself in the mirror enough to know how sexy my legs and bum looked in these shoes. Even though I hadn’t been running nearly enough lately, the muscles in my legs were toned and my rear end muscular. Standing tall with my arms pulled back by the handcuffs made my admittedly small breasts jut out and look their best.

Marc’s erection was also jutting out and up, which it only did when he was extremely excited. He walked me around the room, showing where people had been standing or sitting the night before.

“You know what happened then, my dear.”

“I wish now I could have seen it.”

Over at the table, Marc bent me over, pushing my chest into the cushion that covered it.

“Spread your legs.”

He eased his very hard cock into me.

“God, Marc! You feel so good.”

“As do you, Jen. Squeeze me.”

Marc set up a leisurely pace, allowing us to both enjoy the feelings.

“So you really enjoyed being taken by so many?”

“Yes, Marc. I loved it. I loved all those hard cocks. I have never been more turned on.”

“I could tell. We all could. Your juices were flowing.”

“When I was being eaten. Oh! It felt so good. Was that your friend again?”

“Yes. He is addicted to doing that to you.”

“Marc, you are fucking me so nicely. You feel so good inside me.”

“I love being inside you.”

“Yes, but you also like it when others are inside me, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I want to do it again, Marc.”

“I suspected you did.”

“And this time I want to see them. I want to see all those hard cocks. I want to see them all look at me. I want to see the lust in their eyes, knowing that I’m going to give myself to them, take them all.”

Marc began fucking me much harder, and I pushed back just as hard. We were in a very erotic space. Completely gone from my head was the need for no one to know who I was. Later, I would reconsider this foolishness, but for the moment, I really wanted this.

Marc’s grip on my hips tightened. Lying the way I was, I couldn’t rotate them as much as I would have liked, but I could feel the head of Marc’s cock pushing against my G-spot.

“Call them up, Marc. I want them here!”

“It is too late tonight for that, Jen. It will take some time.”

“Do it!”

“I will.”

“Marc, I love cocks. I want them! I like making men hard, desiring me.”

His response was to just moan and thrust harder.

I was completely out of control. I howled. I moaned. In my mind I could see all those men, hard, their mouths open as they waited their turn to be inside me. I reveled in what my imagination was conjuring. All the false modesty was gone, and I was left, just a lusty female in heat.

Behind me, Marc was gasping, thrusting into me harder than ever.

“Oh, my Jen. I love you so much! You feel so good. Your pussy is devouring my cock.”

“Do it, Marc! Do it to me! I want your cum. Fill my naughty pussy, the pussy that loves you.”

Even all these years later, I can remember that lovemaking so well. I gave myself completely over to lust.

The only guilt I felt (and it was extreme) was that I had to tell my husband it was over.

(That night on the phone, Robby, the words were on my lips, but I had decided you must be told in person. I certainly owed you that much, at the very least. Oh, I rationalized everything in my head (cognitive dissonance, and all that), but I wasn’t too far gone in my sexual haze to know I had a duty to perform.

Marc wouldn’t be able to set anything up until the following weekend, so I made excuses why you couldn’t come yet to pick me up. I had a late test. I had a couple of last-minute gigs. You got mad. I got mad. That fight is a very ugly memory. The really horrible thing was my worry that you’d drive to Montreal to apologize — and ruin everything. Sick, huh?)


But you didn’t. We made up the next day, and I spent my week with Marc. When I wasn’t with Marc, I was running because spring had finally completely arrived in Montreal and being outside was wonderful, splashing through the water from the melting snow as winter was banished for the next several months.

I ran and ran and ran, always thinking. I loved what I had become. I loved Marc for bringing it out in me. I hated that I’d betrayed my other love. I was in love with two men (I know the repetitions of this must be getting boring) and could only be with one of them. Marc’s grip on me was very strong, though, and the world with him would be so exciting. Yes, there wasn’t the same closeness of spirit I had with my husband, but it would come in time. I no longer felt guilt for what had happened between Marc and me (or so I convinced myself). I only hated the fact that it would hurt someone else so much.

Marc and I had no sex that week. We both wanted to be very keyed up for Saturday afternoon. That doesn’t mean we didn’t indulge in sexy talk, though. I often found my hand creeping toward my crotch as if it had a mind of its own.

“I don’t want to be introduced to any of them,” I told Marc on Friday evening.

“But you know some of them.”

“Who?”

“Two of the members of my quartet.”

It dawned on me. I’ll bet the fat fingers belonged to Jean Luc, the cellist.

“Are you embarrassed about that, Jen?” Marc asked. “They have already guessed who you are.”

I shrugged. “Too late now.”

Anytime I was at Marc’s, I had my clothes off. I loved teasing him to hardness, and the temptation to throw him down, pull out his erect cock and mount him, kept me very keyed up.

My dreams at night were about sex and more sex. I was walking around in public, naked, and as I passed, men would take their cocks out and masturbate. Women would touch themselves.

By Friday, I was so keyed up, I couldn’t stand it and rubbed off a quick one, or I wouldn’t have been able to sleep.

My first week of freedom from school had been lovely, filled with running, practising for no reason other than I wanted to play, and enjoying Marc’s sexual company (though we didn’t indulge). The only clouds on the horizon were looming larger and larger, though. I’d suddenly realized Marc wasn’t the only person who needed to be told. My family would have to know too — and they would not be happy. I tried to push those thoughts aside.

That Saturday afternoon in the early spring in Montreal is engraved forever in my memory. I have masturbated countless times over the years, reliving it in my head. For a long time, it was my secret, guiltiest pleasure. That time, I saw the effect of my nakedness on the men.

Some were old, some younger (none really young), all friends of Marc. I could see his pride, enjoying the lust in their eyes for his woman. As I went around the room with him, I stroked their erections as I had in my dreams. My juices were running down my legs and my body felt hot.

They took me on the table again, but I wasn’t fastened down the whole time. I lost count of the number of times I was fucked. The only place I wasn’t taken was my ass. That was Marc’s alone, special for him.

My second gangbang went on for at least three hours before people began drifting away. By that time, I’d moved to Marc’s bed and was with two of the younger men who had more stamina.

That afternoon, I’d changed into the aggressor. The men present weren’t taking me any longer. I was taking them. Once freed from the table, I could ride them, sit on their faces, tell them what to do to give me the most pleasure. I didn’t let Marc come near me until the end when I let him have me on the sofa, as we’d done it the first time. Full circle.

I will leave it up to your imaginations as to everything we did that afternoon. In the end, I was covered in semen, sweaty, exhausted and completely sated. Marc again drew me a hot bath and we talked for a long time. I felt like I’d gotten something out of my system. My fantasy had been fulfilled and I couldn’t tell him what he wanted to hear: that this would become part of our sex life together. I’d changed inside.

I told him I had to go home and break the news to my husband. I cried. He comforted me. We went to bed and slept for a few hours. Around midnight, we woke and made very slow love (I was quite sore but wanted Marc nonetheless). I lay on the bed, ass in the air and Marc took my back door. I wanted to rub myself to an orgasm, but knew it wouldn’t be that good. We slept again. Sometime near three, he drove me home. He tried to talk me out of it but I was insistent. I wouldn’t stay overnight at his place until I’d told my husband what had happened. I know it sounds stupid, but I was firm in that detail.

==============

On Sunday morning, Robby and I spoke again. I just wanted to get it over with and was dismayed when he told me he couldn’t get away until Friday. He’d arrive that morning with a friend’s van, we’d load it with my meagre belongings, and we’d go home. As soon as we got home, I’d break the news to him.

But life had a surprise in store for me…

=============

There will be one more chapter unless my darling husband Rob wants to add something. (I'm betting he will.) Please don’t think badly of me. I was in WAY over my head with Marc. If fate hadn’t intervened, I might still be with him, but more likely we would have gone our own ways. Regardless, my life would have been very different. I wouldn’t have been blessed with two wonderful children, a husband more loving and forgiving than anyone like me has a right to expect.

I was lucky in so many ways. I know that there are many out there who tread this path in one way or another and don’t make it back alive and in one piece. The key is communication, communication, and then more communication. Rob and I had a very long and difficult road to get to where we are now.

If you’re contemplating opening your marriage, really, really think about it. Don’t do it from sexual heat the way I did. More than likely, it will be a complete disaster. Rob should have kicked me to the curb. He didn’t and I will be forever grateful to him for that. I would gladly give up my life for him.

Love,
Jennifer
It's true what they say about redheads…
The recounting of my wife's university affair: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=28088
And what has happened more recently: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=30613

54321
OHW Addict
Posts: 3195
Joined: Sun Sep 16, 2007 11:31 pm

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by 54321 » Tue Nov 04, 2014 2:09 pm

Bravo, Jen!

This is the most erotic love story I've ever read.

54321

Foot69loose

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Foot69loose » Tue Nov 04, 2014 4:10 pm

Indeed
What both RS & Arizona said
Very hot and so well described. Thank you for taking the time to put this recount together
No doubt it creates as much pain as pleasure. What is very special and what I'm looking forward to reading is how you both come out on the other side and manage to move forward using these experiences in your relationship

Righteous
Experienced
Posts: 201
Joined: Mon Sep 09, 2013 8:24 am

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Righteous » Tue Nov 04, 2014 4:14 pm

Foot69loose wrote:Indeed
What both RS & Arizona said
Very hot and so well described. Thank you for taking the time to put this recount together
No doubt it creates as much pain as pleasure. What is very special and what I'm looking forward to reading is how you both come out on the other side and manage to move forward using these experiences in your relationship
Only time for a quick response...

It wasn't easy.
It's true what they say about redheads…
The recounting of my wife's university affair: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=28088
And what has happened more recently: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=30613

lannontom

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by lannontom » Tue Nov 04, 2014 4:50 pm

You are an easy guy to root for, Rob. I generally like reading stories here because human nature interests me and this is compelling stuff. With that said, this is one of the most compelling stories here and (I'm being completely honest) - you come across as so nice and genuine that I find myself reading these getting pissed at Jennifer (who sounds lovely and a loving wife) so I can only imagine what kind of internal resolve you must have had to not give up on the marriage. It has left an impression on me and I've considered it in daily life more than once.

Righteous
Experienced
Posts: 201
Joined: Mon Sep 09, 2013 8:24 am

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by Righteous » Wed Nov 05, 2014 6:54 am

You are an easy guy to root for, Rob. I generally like reading stories here because human nature interests me and this is compelling stuff. With that said, this is one of the most compelling stories here and (I'm being completely honest) - you come across as so nice and genuine that I find myself reading these getting pissed at Jennifer (who sounds lovely and a loving wife) so I can only imagine what kind of internal resolve you must have had to not give up on the marriage. It has left an impression on me and I've considered it in daily life more than once.
Thanks for the compliments!

The final bit of the story will clarify things a lot. Our success is all about communicating honestly. It also helped that, despite what Jenn got herself involved in, we still had a deep connection. If I hadn't been so far away and so busy in my new job, things would have transpired very differently. Also, if I'd been honest about my fascination with thinking about her with other men, things would have been very different and possibly gone in another direction. She was addicted, purely and simply, and once away from the source of her addiction, she began to "recover" (if that's the right word).

My wife is a very strong person in many ways. People see her as exceptionally capable at a multitude of things and always in control. Marc made it possible for her to completely give up that tight control she always kept herself under. And she discovered things about herself that profoundly changed her. In the end, we both benefited mightily from her affair.

But we were also lucky. If I'd found out about it a different way (from a friend or something), it would probably have ended our marriage. The fact that she told me meant a lot -- even if the revelation began through a slip she made.

Anyway, better to finish the story off and then get into discussions about it, right? I don't know when the last bit will be posted. We're both exceptionally busy at the moment. It took a lot of convincing for Jenn to reveal that last part since it was so completely over the top and she's such a private person. (I still can't wrap my head around that table Marc borrowed, but that's part of the final bit, ie: where it really came from and why. And I wonder what ever happened to it since I'm sure it still exists.)

So, for everyone, more to come. Maybe I can talk Jenn into at least coming on to answer questions. She flatly refuses to join the site. Sigh... She could help people a lot.
It's true what they say about redheads…
The recounting of my wife's university affair: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=28088
And what has happened more recently: http://ourhotwives.org/forum/viewtopic.php?f=8&t=30613

encourageher
Virgin
Posts: 28
Joined: Sat Oct 30, 2010 11:08 pm

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by encourageher » Wed Nov 05, 2014 11:43 am

lannontom wrote:You are an easy guy to root for, Rob. I generally like reading stories here because human nature interests me and this is compelling stuff. With that said, this is one of the most compelling stories here and (I'm being completely honest) - you come across as so nice and genuine that I find myself reading these getting pissed at Jennifer (who sounds lovely and a loving wife) so I can only imagine what kind of internal resolve you must have had to not give up on the marriage. It has left an impression on me and I've considered it in daily life more than once.
Lannontom, you are not the only one!

litlgi
Virgin
Posts: 27
Joined: Fri Feb 04, 2011 7:17 am

Re: Between Jennifer and Marc

Unread post by litlgi » Wed Nov 05, 2014 1:44 pm

Righteous, You seem the type of couple I would love to meet in person. Seemingly just down to earth great couple BUT a history that would be very interesting and helpful to many. even if we didn't know the ins and outs I am sure we could tell "something is different"

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