Beginnings - The Rest of the Story

[Don Jetman]

Beginnings - The Rest of the Story


Meeting Dave was an accident. Against all odds. It was a party thrown by
a friend of a friend. My friend didn't show, and we didn't know a soul. L
and I mingled, and the guests were nice enough, but eventually we just
couldn't find a reason to stay. I felt a little guilty - I had pressed L
to go, thinking we'd meet some interesting new people. She's never been
into socializing in crowds - forcing small talk to strangers feels fake
to her, and much of the time I agree. But it was a Saturday night, we
hadn't gone out for ages, and I was beginning to get a case of cabin
fever. So she agreed, finally, and we dressed for the party.

I met him in the kitchen, pouring himself a scotch like a real scotch
drinker - straight up, no ice. My kind of scotch drinker. He offered to
pour me one when I told him that, and L arrived a few minutes later
looking for me. I introduced her as my wife, she agreed to stay until I
finished my drink and then left in search for the bathroom.

Dave didn't mince words. He went on and on about how pretty and sexy L
was. No fear at all. I suppose some husbands would have been worried. Not
me - I was nervous, excited by the fantasy in my head. Brief scenes of
him seducing L with words, then of them kissing, and maybe even fucking
in a secluded spot there at the party. We talked about our marriage, our
jobs, and our hobbies. He wanted to know everything, especially about L.
I warned myself not to be too hopeful, that maybe he was just naturally
inquisitive. Besides, this never happens, right? After all our role
playing in bed, L meets the first guy she fucks since our wedding at a
chance gathering of strangers? In spite of her assuring me she wouldn't
actually have sex with someone else? That our kinky foreplay was enough?

Dave and I had a second scotch, then a third. L had disappeared for
almost an hour after finding a guest with the same work background. Dave
brought up that he was single, divorced, and knew no one at the party.
He didn't offer to explain why he was invited. He went on to tell
me he hoped to meet new people there, and how attractive some of the
women were. L never seemed far from his mind. I was so lucky, he kept
telling me, to have someone so beautiful and sexy. Eventually he
apologized if I had been offended, that he may have been too forward. I
admitted that in fact, I loved to hear men compliment L, and even that I
didn't mind them staring at her body. In fact, that it even excited me a
bit. Probably too much information shared, but he had a way of making me
feel comfortable talking about L. We were friends on our fourth scotch.

He went on to tell me he knew a little about "the lifestyle" - how some
men get a kick from seeing their wives hit on. I was quick (perhaps too
quick) to point out we were not in "the lifestyle", but I knew something
about it. I remember him smiling at that, like he knew I was hiding
something.

"Still, I'll bet men hit on L all the time, don't they?"

"Heh - hit on her? If you only knew. Guys used to do it right there in
front of me when we were dating. It drove me crazy."

"In a good way, or a bad way? I mean now - when men flirt with her."

There was just something between us that told me I could bare my soul.
And my brain was saturated with scotch after he poured a fifth one.

"Oh, it's all good," I told him. "She's never given me a reason to worry
about our marriage, and I know how hot she is to other guys. I know what
they see, and what they want. A cute virgin in public, and a whore in the
bedroom at night."

"And would they be disappointed?" he asked, smiling.

I smiled right back at him. "Not at all. Not at all."

Almost on cue, L returned to ask me if I was ready to leave. And
everything changed.

Dave began his seduction with words, and L fell under his spell. She
seemed mesmerized with his voice - in fact, everything he said to her.
She seemed to melt with every compliment he gave her. His small talk
fascinated her. After a while she left my side and moved closer to him. I
watched as she touched his arm over and over when she laughed at his
jokes. I was well aware that she was no longer in a hurry to leave. Was I
really witnessing the seduction of my wife?

I was so ambivalent. So nervous and angst-filled that L seemed smitten
with our new friend. So excited with thoughts of them fucking when his
magic succeeded. I was in limbo. Did I want this or not? Was I too
insecure to have all our role play become reality? Was there real danger
in L being completely taken by his charm? Would her first time as a
hotwife be with a man she fell for so easily?

I was overwhelmed. I left them and mingled with the other guests
throughout the house. I'm not sure what I said or did - the only thing I
thought about was L and Dave - together. Were they talking about sex?
Planning it together while I was away? Had he already seduced her? Could
she imagine herself single again - or at least free to fuck another man?
A man who fit her role playing fantasies?

They seemed like old friends when I finally returned. Or old lovers? She
stood so close to him, touching him, smiling up at him when she spoke.
Dave apologized for keeping her to himself for so long, but at the same
time told me how adorable and sexy she was, and what a delight she was to
be around. L's eyes beamed at me with each compliment. He kissed her on
the cheek before we left. She walked on air to the car.



- 2 -

"So, you know when you asked if I'd ever have sex with someone else? Like
we do when we pretend?"

We had just fucked, and this time the "other guy" in our fantasy was
Dave. It was too much to hope for. And even then, would I really want it?
But backing down now wasn't an option.

"Um-hmmm. Did you have someone in mind?" She's naked and sweaty. I'm
lying beside her, catching my breath, staring at the ceiling, trying to
sound rational.

"Umm - I think it might be Dave. That's not a surprise, is it?"

I'm in a little bit of shock, but muster my courage. I refuse to be the
one who fucks this up.

"Not a surprise at all. I know you like him. Did you talk about sex? Did
he ask you to fuck him?"

Silence for a few seconds, then she rolls on top of me. Her breasts are
pushed against my chest, nipples now urgently hard.

"I think he's the one, Don. The one we talked about. Have you thought
about us together? Me and him naked together? Having sex? It's what you
want, isn't it? I think it's what I want. I really like him - he's so
smart and sexy."

To my surprise, L and Dave had exchanged contact information before we
left the party. He emailed her first, and she invited him over so the
three of us could talk. He was busy that weekend, but free the next, so
the date was made. We had almost two weeks to fantasize about what may
happen, and we took advantage of every chance we had - almost every
night, as I recall. L was especially excited when we imagined him fucking
her - she came more quickly with powerful orgasms. And as a result, so
did I.

Dave was every bit as charming that Saturday night as he was when we
first met him. He brought a nice bottle of cabernet that made beginnings
more comfortable. We finished it, then put away a bottle of my own. We
talked for hours, about everything, and eventually about sex as the wine
flowed. When he asked L whether I was ever jealous when men flirted with
her, she admitted that I had been when we were dating, but never these
days. I froze when she told him, "In fact, I think he likes it when guys
flirt with me. I know he does later when we're alone."

I watched and listened as they began to flirt - him teasing her about how
she must get a lot of attention from other men, and she confessing that
she enjoyed teasing me about it. L was never an adept drinker - but now
she was slurring a word now and then and revealing much more than I even
expected. Dave kept the heat to a low boil, but L was slowly losing
control. Where was my innocent wife?

Finally there was an awkward lull in the conversation. We were all a
little buzzed, and had met a hurdle between innocent flirtation and
genuine seduction. Little things come back to me - Gato Barbieri's warm,
sultry sax playing in the background, the clock chime at 1:00 AM, the
faint outline of Dave's erection on the front of his khakis, and L's face
as she turned to me with a look of expectation and arousal that begged me
to do something - anything.

I stood and moved behind the sofa where L and I sat. My first thought was
to leave them alone and let nature take its course. But I was desperate
to see, to watch them get naked together for the first time, to see how
their bodies fit together just before he put his cock in her. So I began
to unbutton L's blouse from behind, slowly, one button at a time, from
the top down.

L looked back at me and smiled, as if she was telling me she was fine.
Telling me to continue. Thankful I had taken some action to move the
night forward. I've seen that look many, many times since then, and it
always reminds me of that first time.

Dave watched intently from his chair nearby. There was no sign that he
was surprised or shocked - he just studied L patiently with intense
interest. I kept glancing over at him, a bit worried his reaction would
be to excuse himself with polite concern about our marriage. The longer
he stayed and watched, the more certain I became that the night may be at
least one of our recent bedtime fantasies.

Not that I wasn't nervous. My hands were shaking as I undid button after
button down the front of L's blouse. I remembered convincing her not to
wear a bra earlier that evening, assuming it would tease Dave as he
noticed, and that maybe, just maybe he'd be taken by the sudden sight of
her bare breasts as he undressed her. "It will let him know that we
planned this, and how much you want him," I had told her. She had grinned
at me and finally consented. I was a bit disappointed that the outline of
her nipples didn't show through the blouse as much as I had expected. But
hell, we both knew, and one way or another I was sure Dave would know as
well.

I had no real plan. I was on autopilot. I pulled the remainder of her
blouse from under the waistband of her slacks and moved the sides apart
exposing the inner curves of her breasts and a soft path of skin down her
belly. Dave stayed glued to his seat and stared.

But something in me didn't want to merely hand her over to him naked. I
wanted to see L beg for it. I wanted to see him be the aggressor. I
didn't want it to be too easy. I wanted them to show how much they wanted
each other. I was simply giving my permission - it was up to them to let
their passion lead them to fucking.

I reached over her shoulders from behind and unfastened the front of her
slacks. I lowered the zipper. And I pulled them open as far as I could,
baring her lower belly and a hint of her pink panties. Then I stood back
from the sofa, looked over at Dave, and nodded. I wanted to tell him,
"I've opened her for you. You can have her. She's yours." But I'm sure my
look said it all.

I thought it was odd that he never looked at me, only at L as he rose and
went to her. But then I got the message - that I no longer mattered here.
I stepped further back and dimmed the lights, thinking I could maneuver
unnoticed in the shadows. As I began to watch, I was sure they didn't
care where I was or whether I watched or not. They were alone, and they
went at each other instantly.

Dave pulled her slacks and panties down her legs in a single swift move.
L spread her legs and he went to his knees between them. She gasped
suddenly as he began to lick her belly and inner thighs, then he lowered
his face between her legs and ate her. Her eyes were closed, and she made
little whimpering sounds as he worked.

I was afraid things would go south when after just a few minutes she
asked him to stop. He looked up at her, and she was staring at him and
panting. I could tell she was trying to regain control, and I was sure
she had decided she couldn't go through with it. I had always worried
that if L finally had sex with another man and suddenly let guilt and
recrimination get in the way, she might never agree to try it again. I
was more than disappointed - Dave seemed like the perfect guy for her. I
wondered if me being there had made her too self-conscious, in spite of
all the role playing we had done. Maybe I should step out for a while.
Would the privacy allow her to continue?

Then I heard her say to him, "We should go to the bedroom."

I remember going from despair to elation within a second or two, then
trying to temper my expectations with a dose of reality. I suppose I knew
L as more of the "stop, I can't do this" wife than the "let's go to the
bedroom" wife, if I was completely honest. The way she spoke to him was
out of character for L - her words reeked of both intimacy and hunger.
Maybe the role playing had helped, although I reminded myself that
playing a hotwife may be much easier than being one, especially the first
time.

I watched as she took his hand and led him toward our bedroom. It was a
scene out of my hottest fantasies - he was fully dressed, confident, and
I believed certain that he would fuck her when he first arrived. L was
naked except for her open blouse which still covered much of her breasts
and nipples. He was "taking" my wife before my eyes. And she was leading
him to our bed where she would surrender everything to him. Could this
really be happening?

But she stopped half-way to the door, turned to me, and extended her
hand.

"I can't do this without you, Don. I want you with me. Please?"

I took her hand, and she led us into our darkened bedroom. With my back
against the wall, trying desperately to stay out of the way, I watched
them strip each other. He pulled L's blouse off her shoulders, staring
into her eyes, reassuring her that he'd be a lover with the utmost care.
To my surprise, I'm not sure she needed it. She undressed him quickly,
efficiently, I thought. She never paused, even when his erection sprung
from his boxers as she tugged them down his thighs.

They just stood there for a minute, naked, excited, as though they
couldn't decide what to do next. He took her into his arms, and she
melted into him, trapping his cock between them against her belly. She
had barely looked at his cock, at least not as long as I had. That he
wasn't the archetypical fantasy Bull with a nine inch cock didn't
surprise me - in fact it was a bit of a relief. He was the same length as
me, but a bit thicker. Very, very hard. I imagined how good he'd feel
inside her, with no fear of the pain a huge cock might cause. L is very
small and very tight inside, with muscles that can grip a cock like a
fist. He was going to love fucking her.

L wanted me there by the bed as they made love. I couldn't get enough of
the way her body responded, the way she circled him with her legs and
raised her hips into him as he fucked her. Eventually she reached for my
hand and I could feel the tension in her build. She pulled me close
suddenly, almost violently, and my head collided with Dave's for an
instant. Seconds later we were kissing deeply as L's orgasm washed over
her in waves of animal sounds and spasms. I wish I could put into words
the brief burst of emotions that ran through me. There would have been no
better way of showing me how much he loved me for letting another man
give her that much pleasure.

I moved away and let her encourage Dave's orgasm. She stroked his body
with her fingers, pleading with her eyes to have him cum in her. Finally
he did, grunting and thrusting his cock deeply inside her as she smiled
up at him and took everything he had. And at the same time she gave
herself up to him, this time her orgasm focused on the man who was cumming
inside her. I hadn't known she could be that woman. Every inch of her body
so hungry and out of control with an orgasm unexpectedly triggered so
soon by another man's cock spewing inside her. Is that what someone
would see when she comes with me? It was the first time I watched a guy
fuck her. The first time I saw her body orgasm as I watched from the side
of our bed. How would I know?

I was pleasantly surprised when Dave wanted to talk about the night
during breakfast the next morning. He seemed intent on hearing both L's
and my fantasies - what we had experimented with in bed during our role
playing, and what we might want to play out in the future. He didn't
force any ideas of his own. He just listened to us talk. It certainly
wasn't very sexy talk. Mostly it was letting him get to know us better -
an intellectual interview of sorts about who we were and what we thought
we needed sexually. Again, there was something about him that allowed us
to open up to him, even about our most confidential taboos, needs, and
fantasies.

It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. He's been able to
decipher the drivers of our needs and fantasies like no one we've met. He
has an innate talent for knowing our boundaries, recognizing them when
we play, and even how to push us a bit over the edge to keep things fresh
and exciting.


-3-

Playing the Dom. Yes, both L and I have periods of time when we slide
into submissive moods and need a Dom. Mine is closely connected to the
angst of seeing L "taken". The Madonna/whore thing - an innocent wife
stripped and played with against her will in front of her husband,
reluctantly giving in and finally enjoying it. An "innocent" housewife's
secrets exposed and allowed to run rampant when her fantasy lover pushes
her over the edge. It's about the corruption of the innocent in plain
view of her helpless and astonished husband.

For L it's something out of one of those romance novels she used to read.
The handsome, strong, virile stranger refuses to stop hitting on her, and
in time wears down her defenses in spite of the guilt of cheating on her
husband. He sweeps her off her feet and she loses all control. In periods
of deeper submissiveness, she wants to be "owned" by a Dom, given to
other men, and flaunt all of it in front of me. It becomes a strange mix
of giving up her body as she's ordered to do, combined with the
satisfaction of delivering my angst. It's heavy masochism with a thread
of sadism woven through it. Not that it's puzzling to me - from the time
we started dating, she's always loved teasing me about her past
boyfriends. She's flirted with guys in front of me since the day we
met. It drove me crazy back then, until she'd admit she was only teasing,
that she loved to see me jealous. She never stopped, and I loved her too
much to let it scare me away. Then I began to like it.

Dave developed a role playing game where he was a high level government
official in an authoritarian world where powerful men had the right to
fuck any woman of their choice. He'd show up in a faux-Nazi outfit - long
trench coat, boots and gloves - knock on our door, and take L as I was
forced to watch. She'd struggle a little at first, then she'd quickly
give in and let him fuck her in our bed. He'd ask her if she liked
fucking him more than her husband, she'd hesitate, and he'd threaten her
until she said whatever he wanted. Soon she'd tell him on her own that he
was better, and she'd moan and finally cum under him. He'd walk by me on
his way out, stop and grin, and tell me to have her cleaned up and
wearing something sexy for his next visit, but not to touch her because
she was his now. Of course, L and I would fuck like rabbits after that.
So hot.

Sometimes he'd make me strip her as he held her from behind and played
with her breasts and pussy. He'd make me tell him things as I stripped
her naked - that I knew she loved fucking him more than me, and that I
agreed to give her to him as his property. Then he made me beg him to
fuck her. L would get so wet, and I would get painfully hard as the time
crawled by. He'd always fuck her in our bed after that - sometimes while
I watched, and sometimes with the door closed so I couldn't.

The day came not long after a few of our "Officer Dave" sessions when
Dave thought L could benefit from some "training". I was to drop her at
his place for a few hours every night for five nights through the
following week. He wanted her in a different short dress with nothing
underneath every night, and she was to wear this black velvet collar he
gave us with each outfit. It had a small silver ring attached to the
front, so L and I both had a good idea of what her training would be
like. I was skeptical, but L seemed much more enthusiastic.

We shopped for dresses that weekend. I was clueless at choosing dresses
for L, especially the "short ones" Dave wanted her to wear. L had to
remind me that a skirt wasn't a dress, and that dresses ranged from
housewifey ones that bounced and flaired at the bottom, to short, tight,
tiny sexy black ones with a plunging neckline. She couldn't tell me what
kind Dave had in mind, so she called him from one of the large department
stores where we were looking. His answer was that he wanted her in
something casual that she'd wear when she was out with me. Something
she'd be wearing if she left my side and went straight to him for sex.
Yes - a housewifey dress would be perfect. But it had to be short. When I
asked L how short, she said he told her, "I want to see lots of pretty
little thigh."

Finding the dresses he wanted wasn't easy. L is a petite 5' 3", and
nothing "housewifey" was remotely short on her. We found going a size
smaller worked in a few cases, but many of these were too small to button
or zip. In the end we resorted to visiting Fredericks and Victoria's
Secret where we settled on a few of the more daring party dresses. They
weren't exactly something L would wear for casual occasions, or to go to
galleries or museums with me on weekend afternoons, but they were short,
and didn't look like hooker clothes. They did remind me of how a
housewife might dress who just might be trolling for cock while her
husband was out of town. I hoped Dave might at least recognize our
intent. No one would have to use much imagination to see what she was
there for when she knocked on his door night after night. Only Dave knew
exactly what she came for.

I'll admit we were both nervous the first night I dropped her at his
place. His door opened, she disappeared inside, and I went home to wait
for the three hours to pass. His door always opened exactly three hours
later, and she'd step outside, walk to the car, kiss me on the cheek, and
tell me, "I'm fine. Let's go home."

He gave her back to me the same way each night. She wore a long,
oversized T-shirt and nothing else. I could see the outline of her body
under it for a few seconds as she passed under his porch lights. She was
in her bare feet, her shoes and collar dangling from one hand. Her hair
was always damp and straight, her makeup gone, and her skin warm and damp
as though she had just come from a bath or shower.

She's never told me what happened on those five nights. It was to be
Dave's and her secret to this day. She'd slip sometimes and reveal a
vague hint - then catch herself and remind me that she had agreed to keep
Dave's secret. It was his requirement to continue playing, to continue
doing whatever he did to make her want him again.

L wasn't visibly changed after that week. We had sex more often, but as
closely as I watched for some extraordinary behavior from her, there was
none. We still role played with Dave on weekends, but neither of them
ever mentioned her week of "training". But there were subtle knowing
looks between them for a split second now and then, and L seemed to cum
harder and more quickly when they fucked. But maybe that was only my
imagination - their secrets playing with my head.

It was only after Dave began to invite us to his parties that I started
to understand. I never knew what his guests knew about L and me. Dave
introduced us to those who arrived early (usually the more vanilla
crowd), so they certainly knew we were husband and wife. Still, Dave
would spend most of his time with L, taking her hand or circling his arm
around her waist as he mingled with his guests. I'd stand at the bar
across the room and watch them. And I began to marvel at how free she had
become at flirting and teasing men she had never met. He encouraged it,
but she was more forward than I had even seen her. I'd get hard just
watching her dazzling smile or light touches when she met a man I could
see she liked. It was much like her teasing when we dated, only this was
spontaneous and loaded with a sexual aura that everyone could see. "She's
telling them she's available, that she might fuck them," I used to say to
myself as I watched. Then I'd have to stay behind the bar to hide my
raging hardon.

Later in the evening the swinger couples weren't shy about approaching
me, letting me know they saw exactly what was taking place. Strangely, it
was mostly the wives. I'd get comments from women I hadn't even met,
like, "So, how long has he been fucking her?" and, "You like watching
them, don't you?". Of course, Dave may have let them know before we met,
but it caught me off-guard - it shook me a little to know the
relationship between the three of us was so transparent. The most candid
of four or five wives were so mouthwatering - short or tall, blonde or
brunette, they seemed attracted to me while we watched L flirt with all
the men. It was torture in a way - they were hitting on me, assuming L
and I were swingers, but I wasn't allowed to swing.

L fucked one of Dave's guests at the first party we attended. She
disappeared, then reappeared with him as they made their way down the
stairs from the upstairs bedrooms. I had seen them flirting, as just one
of many, and assumed she was simply cruising the room. He was younger,
probably mid-twenties, all ego and testosterone, short black beard,
athletic build, and an "I just fucked your wife" grin. L came to me
within minutes and confessed, but as though she was brimming with pride.
"He was so good," she whispered. "Just wait till I tell you how good.."

I loved the look of accomplishment in her eyes, and although I was also a
bit sick, I would never had let her see it. I guess I envied the guy -
young and hot, a guy who impressed my wife the first time he fucked her.
Thoughts of them naked and fucking got me hard, but the hint of
humiliation seemed to amplify the excitement. Imagining everyone knew,
everyone who watched them come down the stairs together, pulled me in
different directions. Why was I hard knowing they all knew my wife wad
fucked him? Or so I imagined.

L fucked two guys that night, coming to me after each to let me know what
happened. I had never seen this fire in her eyes when she told me about
them. For the first time I saw her as a predator - fearless about getting
a man who excited her sexually, then disposing of him and bragging about
her conquest. I began to suspect Dave's magic during that week of
"training" had at least something to do with it.

I began to see that Dave was L's Svengali. She did things for him. Things
she'd never agree to for me. All concern about her behavior seemed to
vanish when she was with him. He didn't make her someone she wasn't
already - he unleashed something in her. He mined her secret fantasies
and made them acceptable, shattered inhibitions from her upbringing and
helped her shed the remnants. He found her submissive shadows and
nurtured them, bringing them to life with real people who found her
submission delicious. It worried me at first. Until I reaped the benefits
of sex with an L I had always fantasized about but never realized.
Unleashed, she was a cauldron of urgent sexual needs and responses. She
was still L, still my loving wife, but more of a "hotwife" than I could
ever have imagined. I had once been the mentor, but now she had taken the
lead. Her strides were twice that of mine. She almost fucked me to death,
every time. And I couldn't have loved her more for it. Still do.

Dave's parties took us for a ride. I watched L have sex with multiple men
and sex before an attentive audience. Dave took nude photos of L and sent
them to future guests - a kind of advertisement for what they might be
able to fuck if they did their best to persuade her. L thrived in his
environment, and even as a spectator I couldn't wait to see what he
planned next. I just loved seeing her flirt with new men, watching them
seduce her (or was it the other way around?). She was almost not my wife
during those times. I saw a woman hungry for sex and unashamed to show it
- pretty, classy, more cute than glamorous, but fearless in the way she
flirted with new men. I didn't care that they would stick their dicks in
my wife - I only cared that L's sex with them was open and honest, and
that my wife was the woman they all wanted. Well, and that she still
practically fucked me to death every chance we had together.


-4-

My relocation was good news and bad news. More money, a step up the
management ladder, all with a company with a stellar track record and
soaring stock prices. A bump in vacation time, double my annual bonus,
and generous stock options. But L would have to leave her job, and we'd
be distancing ourselves from Dave. There was never any real deal breaker
- L was looking for a new job anyway, and we looked forward to a more
metropolitan culture. Actually, moving away from Dave had a delayed
effect. Hotwifing was really never a huge part of who were are, so the
excitement of new places overshadowed our relationship with Dave. For a
while.

The excitement, stress, and pure novelty of settling in a new location
can dominate one's life. New friends, new attractions, sometimes a
culture that's so overwhelmingly different that it takes a while to be
assimilated. But eventually, we find that we still are who we are. And we
needed Dave.

This seems to be an appropriate place to bring Beginnings to an end. We
now visit Dave several times a year. If anything, his parties are more
bizarre, his hold on L stronger and more mystifying to me. We live our
lives in a new place, and L finds new lovers now and then who come and
go. But we always climb this peak of horniness - until we can't quite
reach the summit. Dave is always there, even though a thousand miles
away, to throw us a lifeline. His home is always open to us, his
generosity unlimited, his affection for L, and the two of us as a couple,
has never waned. Our visits are filled with anticipation, surprise, and
an expectation to be pushed to the limits of unimagined territory. But
those are stories told elsewhere.

Ultimately, what survives is a rich and fulfilling sex life, one that
adds mystery, excitement, heat, and yes, even angst sometimes, to a
marriage that might have evolved like so many others. Vanilla? Oh please.
Give us surprise, risk, confusion and danger. Sex with L is still all
that and more.

[wittol]

Don, I’ve often hoped for a book, chronologically presenting your and L’s hotwife/cuckold evolution and adventures. I know what it is, because I’ve been such fan over the years, but it would be an instant and towering classic of the genre. I even thought about developing a “roadmap” of your stories, but when I’d start, I’d get too excited and distracted!

[Don Jetman]

Don, I’ve often hoped for a book, chronologically presenting your and L’s hotwife/cuckold evolution and adventures. I know what it is, because I’ve been such fan over the years, but it would be an instant and towering classic of the genre. I even thought about developing a “roadmap” of your stories, but when I’d start, I’d get too excited and distracted!

Well, I'm not sure there are enough adventures to flesh out an entire book. As you know, we tend to go dormant for long periods, then are all in for something edgy that sometimes spins out of control. It's all about our libido peaks and timing. The routine events like L's more regular lovers are exciting to me, but would probably seem, well, pretty routine to others. A lot of the pedantic stuff surfaces through comments and spontaneous writing in established threads on several forums (some now defunct) that would be hard to harvest and roadmap, even for me. That said, I really should keep a better history - I originally started writing in forums over ten years ago so I'd have rockin' chair memories someday when we're too old to participate (and memory fails), which is getting ominously closer every year. Pictures would have been an added bonus, but L is pretty paranoid about those getting out, so very few have ever been taken, and I may never get those taken by her Dom. The nudes I've taken of L in her sexiest moods are gold to me though. The introspection in my past posts is what I want to remember anyway. I do tend to go on about that instead of the hard core stuff, to many readers' chagrin. But again, as a record, it's what I want to remember.

I can't thank you enough for following us over the years. It does help to have others' responses, and your praise is always satisfying.

Don

[Paul_Pines]

It’s amazing to read someone who really gets it. THANK YOU for everything you write, and this one is fantastic. Got me hard just reading it!

CP

[Don Jetman]

Thanks very much, Paul. Glad you enjoyed it.

Don