The other side of "jessica_r"
Posted: Fri Aug 13, 2010 11:02 am
It’s strange to think that some of the things we want for ourselves are some of the most destructive thoughts we ever have. Sometimes, I feel like King Midas. Desire and greed really can ruin your life if you aren’t careful.
Some of you know my wife, known here as “Jessica R.” Yes, I am her husband, whom she named “Mark.” The long and the short of it is that it is all true, at least from her standpoint. I won’t refute anything she has said, except minor instances where she guessed other peoples thoughts, feelings or motivations.
What’s my story and why am I telling it now?
Jess seems to have gotten what she has needed out of being involved with this site, sharing thoughts, feelings, and some sort of exhibitionist thrill in sharing her sexual adventures. I’m posting here to provide some sort of counterpoint to her descriptions of our reality.
Things aren’t great at the moment. Our marriage has seen some worse times, but it isn’t all rainbows and butterflies at the moment either. I blame myself.
We met in college and, while I won’t speak for my wife, for me it was love at first sight. I knew that this was it, no need to look any further, “the position has been filled.” I wanted to marry her after our first date. What’s not to love? She’s beautiful: not in a movie star “glamorous” sense, but there’s a rare elegance mixed with a comfortable girl-next-door beauty. Trying and failing to come up with a good description, I’ll just say, imagine the quintessential American cheerleader, and combine her with Grace Kelly. On top of that, she’s bright, funny, fun to be around, and the sweetest person you could ever hope to meet.
So where do sex and the “hot wife” thing come in?
In the beginning of our relationship things started slowly, as I didn’t want to scare her off, but our relationship became physical in short order. All of her other qualities aside, she was a stand out, showing me how good sex could be, and it wasn’t like I didn’t like it or anything. It was just this feeling of reaching a whole new level of the experience. Being with her really rocked my world.
Jess shared the initial seed of the whole sharing thing once before, but I’ll give my side of it:
We were at a party at my fraternity. There was drinking involved. One thing led to another and we were making out. I thought it best to move things into a more private area if it kept going, so I led her upstairs. Jess had had enough to drink that she was completely onboard. Normally, I would have thought that a party going on downstairs would have put a damper on her mood, but that wasn’t the case.
Graphic descriptions aside, I’ll just say that it was a memorable and enjoyable experience had their not been a new wrinkle. It happened well into the encounter. She was on all fours and I was behind her. As we were going at it (horrible euphemism I know, my apologies) the door opened. Jess didn’t notice right away. I was a little surprised, but as it was just one guy looking in (for what I have no idea), I just kept going. I thought he’d just see what was happening and leave. Then Jess noticed. Her body tensed up. She had been panting pretty hard, so a scream was pretty much out of the question. Instead there was something of a startled gasp mixed with a groan. She made no attempt to move or to stop me. It couldn’t have been more than eight or ten seconds that he stood there and watched us, but he was definitely watching us. There was a look of attraction there. He liked what he saw and some part of him wanted Jess. Then he closed the door and left.
I’m not sure if I can explain it to anyone, as I’m not completely sure myself, but it affected me. Seeing this guy watch Jess have sex turned me on. Once we were alone, Jess was enjoying things more than she had just a moment before. I knew she was getting close to cumming. The thoughts were really driving me nuts. I started to wonder, “What if he hadn’t just left.” Now, I’m no prude. I’d seen enough porn in my young life (it was college after all), that the image instantly materialized in my minds eye. It was me, taking Jess from behind, just as I really had her at that moment, while he came in, opened his fly and got a blowjob from her. At that moment, I would have given almost anything to have it actually happen.
I’m not sure what happened to the filter between my brain and my mouth, but for some reason, I told Jess. It was something to the affect of, “To bad he left. I bet he would have liked a blowjob.” With that, I ran my hand through her hair. Jess came harder than she had in quite some time.
After that, it was always our bedroom fantasy. It never failed to turn either of us on. On occasion, I would point out a guy at a restaurant or a mall and ask, “What about him?” Jessica would always get embarrassed about it. For years, even after we were married, the idea was always there. The few serious conversations we had about it always came back to the basic flaw that it was a fantasy, which if tried, might go horribly wrong and harm our relationship.
I understood the argument. I really did. Regardless, even though I would shrug and joke it off, I knew that at some point, I was going to make it happen. About eight years after that incident at my fraternity, I did.
More to follow.
Mark
Some of you know my wife, known here as “Jessica R.” Yes, I am her husband, whom she named “Mark.” The long and the short of it is that it is all true, at least from her standpoint. I won’t refute anything she has said, except minor instances where she guessed other peoples thoughts, feelings or motivations.
What’s my story and why am I telling it now?
Jess seems to have gotten what she has needed out of being involved with this site, sharing thoughts, feelings, and some sort of exhibitionist thrill in sharing her sexual adventures. I’m posting here to provide some sort of counterpoint to her descriptions of our reality.
Things aren’t great at the moment. Our marriage has seen some worse times, but it isn’t all rainbows and butterflies at the moment either. I blame myself.
We met in college and, while I won’t speak for my wife, for me it was love at first sight. I knew that this was it, no need to look any further, “the position has been filled.” I wanted to marry her after our first date. What’s not to love? She’s beautiful: not in a movie star “glamorous” sense, but there’s a rare elegance mixed with a comfortable girl-next-door beauty. Trying and failing to come up with a good description, I’ll just say, imagine the quintessential American cheerleader, and combine her with Grace Kelly. On top of that, she’s bright, funny, fun to be around, and the sweetest person you could ever hope to meet.
So where do sex and the “hot wife” thing come in?
In the beginning of our relationship things started slowly, as I didn’t want to scare her off, but our relationship became physical in short order. All of her other qualities aside, she was a stand out, showing me how good sex could be, and it wasn’t like I didn’t like it or anything. It was just this feeling of reaching a whole new level of the experience. Being with her really rocked my world.
Jess shared the initial seed of the whole sharing thing once before, but I’ll give my side of it:
We were at a party at my fraternity. There was drinking involved. One thing led to another and we were making out. I thought it best to move things into a more private area if it kept going, so I led her upstairs. Jess had had enough to drink that she was completely onboard. Normally, I would have thought that a party going on downstairs would have put a damper on her mood, but that wasn’t the case.
Graphic descriptions aside, I’ll just say that it was a memorable and enjoyable experience had their not been a new wrinkle. It happened well into the encounter. She was on all fours and I was behind her. As we were going at it (horrible euphemism I know, my apologies) the door opened. Jess didn’t notice right away. I was a little surprised, but as it was just one guy looking in (for what I have no idea), I just kept going. I thought he’d just see what was happening and leave. Then Jess noticed. Her body tensed up. She had been panting pretty hard, so a scream was pretty much out of the question. Instead there was something of a startled gasp mixed with a groan. She made no attempt to move or to stop me. It couldn’t have been more than eight or ten seconds that he stood there and watched us, but he was definitely watching us. There was a look of attraction there. He liked what he saw and some part of him wanted Jess. Then he closed the door and left.
I’m not sure if I can explain it to anyone, as I’m not completely sure myself, but it affected me. Seeing this guy watch Jess have sex turned me on. Once we were alone, Jess was enjoying things more than she had just a moment before. I knew she was getting close to cumming. The thoughts were really driving me nuts. I started to wonder, “What if he hadn’t just left.” Now, I’m no prude. I’d seen enough porn in my young life (it was college after all), that the image instantly materialized in my minds eye. It was me, taking Jess from behind, just as I really had her at that moment, while he came in, opened his fly and got a blowjob from her. At that moment, I would have given almost anything to have it actually happen.
I’m not sure what happened to the filter between my brain and my mouth, but for some reason, I told Jess. It was something to the affect of, “To bad he left. I bet he would have liked a blowjob.” With that, I ran my hand through her hair. Jess came harder than she had in quite some time.
After that, it was always our bedroom fantasy. It never failed to turn either of us on. On occasion, I would point out a guy at a restaurant or a mall and ask, “What about him?” Jessica would always get embarrassed about it. For years, even after we were married, the idea was always there. The few serious conversations we had about it always came back to the basic flaw that it was a fantasy, which if tried, might go horribly wrong and harm our relationship.
I understood the argument. I really did. Regardless, even though I would shrug and joke it off, I knew that at some point, I was going to make it happen. About eight years after that incident at my fraternity, I did.
More to follow.
Mark