Beginnings

[Don Jetman]

I'm back after a taking a break, so for those who don't know me, I'm re-posting a little history -
the experience I've always considered my initial hook into hotwifing long ago.

Beginnings

by Don Jetman


L was my girl, a fresh-faced college senior, nine years my junior. It was
Saturday night, and she had persuaded me to hang out in her dorm to meet
some of her friends. Music poured into the long hallway, a different song
coming from each open door. I'm not sure how many of her friends I met, a
dozen or more most likely, as they wandered in and out of her room where
we sat on her bed, listening to Billy Joel on her tiny stereo. Most were
girls - young, exuberant, sexy, and a little stoned or drunk. They
visited just long enough to give me the once-over, giggling and wiggling,
getting a kick out of teasing me in front of L But L didn't mind - they
were like sisters to her, and she knew it was all in fun. I met a few
guys as welL They seemed to know L as well as her sisters, and I had
flashes of jealousy now and then when they shared an inside joke I didn't
get. They were all so damned young.

As the hours passed, the alcohol and pot took their inevitable toll. The
halls grew quiet, candles replaced the harsh overhead lights, and people
began to crash in any convenient room, sprawled contentedly on floors and
beds, their conversations more serious, more candid. L's guests slowly
dwindled until only three of us were left. L and Paul shared the same
major and a few classes, and were deep into a discussion on the fine
points of a recent chapter of abnormal psychology. Yawn. My degree was in
chemistry, and the psych talk left me teetering on the edge of a coma. Of
course, I had consumed my share of the available recreational goodies,
and was somewhere between a buzz and spiritual fulfillment.

I'm not sure when the talk turned to sex. It had something to do with
psychology, as I remember. Maybe. Paul held that men and women were
basically different, that men were hard-wired hunters, sexual predators
with an instinct to spread their seed. L was into her feminist period at
the time, and argued that women weren't hard-wired to be cowering baby-
makers. Or something like that. I was amused when she told him women are
as sexual as men. I was her first lover. We had done it less than 20
times. So, I guess I snorted. Or harrumphed. Whatever it was, she got the
message. And she didn't like it much.

"So, you don't think I'm sexual?" she said. Her eyes were fiery. I knew
when I was being baited.

"I think you're very sexy," I answered, now recognizing that damage
control would require resources I couldn't muster at the time.

"I said 'sexual', not sexy," she repeated. I was stoned and a little
drunk. I took just a bit too long to answer. Hell, I wasn't sure she was
all that sexual. She had been pretty innocent during the time we had
dated. A virgin when we met. But I did think she was sexy. The first time
I saw her. Yum.

"You honestly believe I don't think about having sex with other guys?
That I might never be tempted to do it?"

I was stunned. Paul was grinning. I stammered something like, "Um I, uh
don't know..."

"What would you think if I took off my clothes right here, right now, and
had sex with Paul?"

I grinned, snorted, and shook my head. "Oh please," I told her. "Sure.
Right." It was a mistake.

She stood up, and without a word, walked across the room to where Paul
lay in her roommate's bed, propped up against the wall, still grinning.
She began to undress.

I still remember how she did it. Each step. First, the button at the
front of her jeans, then the zipper, drawing it down, opening a V that
showed the smooth skin of her belly and the top of her pink panties. She
tugged the jeans over her hips, hooking her thumbs inside the waistband
of her panties, pulling them along with her jeans until she was naked
from the waist down. She stepped out of them and stopped, looking
straight at Paul, waiting for his reaction, as if to say, "Do you think
I'm sexual? Do you want to fuck me?" Her back was to me, and her ass was
magnificent in the candle light. Paul stared. His eyes were fixed between
her legs. I was jealous and angry. But I was also mesmerized. I knew I
should do something, that I should put a stop to this. But I couldn't. I
just stared.

She played with the buttons at the neck of the knit top. Was she
uncertain, or teasing him? The flickering candles threw shadows across
the dimples just above her ass cheeks. The last thing I wanted was for
her to have sex with this guy, but at the same time, watching her, being
in the same room with her as she stripped for him, was exciting in some
strange way. It was just impossible that she was standing there half-
naked in front of him.

It seemed so easy for her to peel the top up over her head, so effortless
to pull her arms from the sleeves and toss the tan ball of material into
his lap. He just sat there, still staring at her, leaving her top softly
rumpled over his erection. It was just as well. I didn't want her looking
at the bulge in his pants. I didn't want her thinking about another guy's
penis. But I knew she was. I hated it and loved it. But I couldn't
explain it.

I watched her fingers undo the hooks at the back of her bra, then slide
the thin straps over her shoulders and let it fall away from her breasts.
She squared her shoulders, pulling them back, arching her back just a
little, a slap to my face for my arrogance. She knew that I would get it,
that she was thrusting her small firm breasts at Paul, daring him to
touch her. It was very odd. Beneath the waves of overwhelming shock and
jealousy, I became aware of this faint ember of excitement, just a sliver
of constant warmth that stayed with me, holding me to the bed, making me
watch my naked girlfriend as she flaunted her body before a guy I had
never met. It wasn't that I wanted them to have sex - I dreaded it. It
was more like, deep inside where I was afraid to look, I was curious to
know if she would, and what it what it would be like to see them
together. These weren't conscious thoughts, but looking back, they were
there, whispering to me, nagging me, daring me to go someplace new and
possibly very dangerous.

Within seconds, Paul stood and took her in his arms. They kissed, deeply,
for a long, long time. His hands roamed over her bare back, down to her
ass, then up her belly to her breasts. She gasped when he touched her
there. Her gasp hit me like a second slap. Yet, I watched, frozen there
on her bed, unable to look away.

They had stepped apart a few inches, still kissing, their hands busy
between them. Paul continued to fondle her breasts and nipples while L
unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his belt and pants. Up until this
point, I was certain that L would never fuck him, that it was all an act
to make her point. Now his shirt was open and his pants were around his
knees.

They moved closer. Her nipples grazed his bare chest. A second later
their bodies were glued together, her breasts flattened against him, his
hips grinding slowly into hers. They kissed harder, sucking and
slobbering, attacking each other's mouths. L's back was still turned
toward me, and I was astonished to find how erotic her body looked - her
back and waist twisting as she devoured his mouth, her ass cheeks
clenched into two tight, round balls of flesh as she pushed against him,
her arms sensuously draped over his shoulders, fingers weaving through
locks of his thick brown hair as she held him. It was a perspective I
never got to see during sex, and the beauty of it pushed my jealousy to a
back burner. But it was simmering just the same. This was my girl. MY
girl

L's little moan suddenly turned this thing of beauty into something else
altogether. It wasn't really a moan - more like a short, quiet, "nnnh".
She shivered a little when she made it, and stopped kissing him. It was
then I noticed her legs were parted slightly, and he was fingering her.
He was inside my girl now, even if it was only a finger. I was freaking a
little, but still paralyzed, unable to intervene.

The final test was when she took his penis in her hands, moving her
fingers lightly over the length of his erection. I saw but I didn't see.
I believed, but I didn't believe. It was surreal, horrifying, and
amazing. Totally over the top. She would never do this. Never. Never.

They stood there, staring into each other's eyes, masturbating each
other. In spite of the periodic tremors and gasps, they seemed almost
peaceful, as though they were alone in the world, simply enjoying the
pleasure they gave each other. Beautiful, but disturbing, from where I
sat. They seemed so at ease with each other I began to wonder how many
times this had happened before, here in her room (in the very bed I sat
on?). Maybe she wasn't only MY girl after all.

He froze for an instant, then let out two short grunts as he came in her
hands. She just kept stroking him softly until he recovered somewhat,
then she pressed her body against him again and kissed him fiercely. By
this time she had more than delivered her point, but the final kiss was
almost more than I could take. Was it just icing on the cake she was
feeding me, or was it more? And if it was more, why would she rub my nose
in it? She was a tease, but she wasn't cruel As convincing as the kiss
was, I was pretty sure she was relishing the final blow, a lesson about
smugness I wouldn't soon forget. There was no doubt I would have to
concede to her "sexuality", and to the revelation that there was a bold,
adventurous, uninhibited side to L that I never knew existed. My jealousy
soon turned to humility. But, my god, what she had done to prove her
point.

Reality came to Paul very quickly. He glanced at me, backed away from L,
pulled up his pants, and headed for the door. Mumbling an embarrassed,
garbled farewell to her, he shot me a second worried look, then closed
the door behind him.

L turned toward me, her nakedness almost an assault. "So, do you think
I'm sexual?" she asked me again. I stared the small shiny patch of semen
on her belly. Her fingers on one hand were wet with it as well. I was
speechless.

"Well, I guess that's a 'yes' then," she told me, grinning. Touch‚.

L and I were married soon after her graduation. I had asked her for
months after the incident whether she had been seeing Paul while we were
dating. The answer was always the same. "He's just a friend." She seemed
convincing. But apparently there was a lot I didn't yet know about L. I
wondered what other surprises she had in store for me in the future. Back
then, I couldn't have begun to imagine.

Not long ago, after her second session with her first lover, she admitted
that she and Paul had played out the scene in her room more than once,
both before and after that night. She told me they never fucked. To her
that was too much like cheating. Go figure. But they did get naked and
masturbate each other, on weekends when I wasn't able to visit, or when
her roommate was out of town. There was no romantic involvement, just
fun, convenient, physical sex. "So, you were just fuck-buddies," I'd said
after she told me. "Well, I wouldn't put it that way," she objected. Then
she looked at me and grinned. "Yeah, I guess we were."

~*~

A decade passed. We weren't exactly the "little white picket fence"
couple, although L played the "good little wife" to perfection. We
climbed the management ladder together, worked long hours, and outwardly
enjoyed our professional successes. But inside, a disquieting empty spot
was growing. Where were the excesses? Is this all there is?

The scene in L's dorm room really never left my head. Feelings from that
night began to fill the evolving empty spot. Finally, one night, in bed,
after taking her out to celebrate her birthday, I asked for her
fantasies. The wine at dinner had greased the wheels, both for me to ask,
and for her to answer. Of course, I told her mine as well - to watch
another man have sex with her. We began to role play during foreplay,
often with her pretending I was an old musician friend she had secretly
fantasized about for years. Then, at a friend's party, we met Dave. He
and L hit it off immediately, and some candid talk between he and I led
to more role playing with L in bed that night. "Would you like to fuck
him?" I asked, never expecting her answer. Her answer was, "Yes, I think
I would." We invited him to our home, and he's been L's favorite lover
ever since. But that's another story.

After ten years of hiding our fantasies, L finally became less reluctant
to talk about her "virginal" past. She knew I loved to hear the sordid
details, and eventually came clean about her college days. She rarely
drinks, but when she does, I never fail to be surprised. I bought some
Sangria and made L a batch her favorite drink, Sangria, cranberry juice,
and sprite, with a twist of lemon. Too sweet for me, but I thought it
might get her talking. It did. She started taking about college, and I
brought up Paul, and as I poured more drinks, the revelations began to
pour out of her. She confessed that she actually fucked three guys while
in college, but not until after we had sex. She claimed that after we
"did it" a few times, she needed it, sometimes when I was away, and it
was "convenient" for her to get it from these three guys she hung out
with. She just started spilling the gory details while she played with my
dick.

Paul was the quiet, smart one. Into philosophy, science, and computers. A
physics major. She told me they'd go on these romantic dates, picnics
under the stars at night, dinner at nice restaurants, chick flicks, all
that stuff. She liked the attention he gave her, and that he took his
time during sex, usually in a remote outdoor location after one of their
picnics. He did her science homework, wrote her computer programs, and
she paid him with sex. Or so it seemed to me when she told me. Her story
was that when she wanted sex with someone most like me, he was her first
choice. I'm not sure I was flattered.

Brad was a jock, with all the muscles and outgoing personality that you'd
expect. He was less in tune with her, and always took her to sports
events and those cheap little sub and pizza places near campus. She said
he was really funny and fun to be around, and always wanted sex. She
claimed he would cum and be ready again almost right away. He was the
first guy who made her sore the next day, not because he was big, but
because she always knew they would fuck more than once every night they
went out. She told me that some nights, after I was gone for a while,
that she just needed that, to have a guy with a great body give it to her
two or three times in one night. "I'm not proud of it," she told me. "But
sometimes I just got so horny, and when I started thinking of his body, I
just couldn't keep from calling him. I knew he'd always say yes. I felt
guilty for using him, but he always said he didn't mind. All we wanted
was the sex. He loved doing it. He was an animal." Gulp.

Brad often took her to a few frat parties. She hated them, mostly because
she didn't drink much, and to her they were just drunken chaos. She
admitted she stopped going after one night when he convinced her to drink
some of the "community punch" the frat guys had made. Since everyone
seemed to be drinking it, she thought it would be OK. To make a long
night a short story, she ended up fucking him in an upstairs bedroom at
the frat house. When they were done, she looked across the room, and
there sat two other couples, watching. She claims not to remember too
much about the night, but told me even after she saw them, she just laid
there under him, looking back at them. She remembers feeling a rush when
she realized they were watching, even though she was partly shocked, and
pissed at Brad. She got dressed (again feeling partly humiliated and
partly turned on as they just sat and watched her put her clothes on),
and left. She called her girlfriend to pick her up.

The Brad saga has another darker chapter. She later told me that he liked
to fuck in public - they did it all over campus in the wee hours. One
night he took her in the middle of one of the tennis courts - stripped
her down to her socks and sweater, and fucked her, completely out in the
open. L found out later, through a girlfriend that went with one of his
frat brothers, that he had been given that very task during his final
pledge week - to fuck L in a place where they all could watch.
Supposedly, quite a few of the frat guys secretly watched them from
behind some bushes nearby. She was mortified when she found out, but
thinks that may be why she has this urge to do it public to this day. Her
girlfriend told her that the frat requested L specifically. She was that
hot. My god, I'm glad I didn't know at the time. To think much of the
campus knew at the time makes me a little queasy to this day. But,
feeling the way I do now, I'd have given anything to have been there
watching as well!

Nick was pre-law. A pretty boy, tall, slim, and came from a family of
lawyers. Very rich. He drove a new Cadillac (pretty strange for a college
kid), and L and he used to fuck in the back seat. She liked this guy the
most because he was going to be an attorney, and she planned to become
one too someday. She said this was the first time any guy brought out the
submissive side of her. He liked to talk during sex, which was new to L.
He'd tell her stuff like, "You love my cock, don't you!" "Beg me to fuck
you harder!" "You're my little slut, aren't you?" She told me it shocked
her the first time, but almost right away it turned her on. She said she
had to be in the mood, but when she was, he was the best of the three. He
started making her strip in front of him, tied her hands during sex, and
made her go out on dates without her bra or panties (which explains why
she started going braless after we started dating). He pawed her in
public, and eventually they started having sex in public places, which L
loved. She told me that she could have fallen for this guy, but he told
her to her face that he was on track for bigger and better things - law
school, and then a position in his family's law firm. He told her he
loved to fuck her, but that he would eventually marry money, a woman of
similar background. She said she jokingly told him, "You make me sound
like a slut." He told her, "And you like it, don't you?" She said she
told him she did.

So, the entire time I was dating her, she was fucking these guys when I
wasn't around. Guess I had an idea she might have been doing more than
she let on, but all three of them? I'd show up on campus, go to her room,
and they'd be there, chatting in the hall, or sharing pizza in her room
with a few of her girlfriends. I'd take L out, and we'd meet them at a
concert, drunk, swaggering, giving me those shit-eating grins, eyeing her
like a tasty snack. Of course, I wasn't blind, or stupid. I'd get
suspicious, even a little annoyed at the way they acted around her, so
familiar, so many things implied when they talked to her, right there in
front of me. She said I was silly, that they were just friends. Then
she'd give me that dazzling little-girl smile and put her hand in my
pants. She loved that I was jealous. She always told me so, while she was
jerking me off. I hated it - and I loved it.

L claims that at other times they behaved like her brothers. Just having
fun, protecting her, paying her way. They went out together often, just
the four of them. Just buddies. But "fuck-buddies" came to my mind pretty
quickly. Had they all had sex together? Absolutely not, according to L
They all knew she was fucking the others, but they liked her one-on-one,
no other guys present.

When I asked her about the submissive sex, she said after she graduated
she was ashamed she had done those things, even if they were still
exciting to her. So she decided never to tell anyone she liked it, and
hoped it would just go away. All the years we were married in between,
she hid it well. Never said a word. Until Dave came along and opened her
up. He flipped the switch, and it just came pouring out of her. She told
me it's one of the reasons she felt comfortable coming clean about her
college days. It did explain how all her submissive fantasies started.
Thanks to Nick.

[Frenchie]

Great story ! Thanks !!

[wittol]

Always pleased to re-read this classic, by one of the best writers (and luckiest cuckolds) around.

[Don Jetman]

Thanks, guys. Just wanted to post some background for those who don't know. Great to hear from you again, wittol.

Don

[SutterKane]

Dan, I just found your work and I'm reading all your post here that I can find. Do you have other work elsewhere?

[DavidnDaria]

Don,

As wittol said, it's always great to re-read your work! Brilliant!

Dave

[Don Jetman]

Dan, I just found your work and I'm reading all your post here that I can find. Do you have other work elsewhere?

Sent you a PM. I'm reluctant to post links to other cuckold sites here. Probably bad form.

Don

[Don Jetman]

Don,

As wittol said, it's always great to re-read your work! Brilliant!

Dave

Thanks, Dave. Both to you and wittol, who have been loyal fans for a while now. My stuff is often in a gray area - not eveyone's cup of tea, especially in more "purist" hotwife or cuckold camps. Sharing has been fun, even with a small audience. Now if only I could get L to post - but that's not likely after all these years. She does usually help write and edit mine, filling in gaps where my memory fails, or surprising me with new details about her POV. Working together on a story is especially hot, but takes longer due to the sex breaks we take!

Don

[SutterKane]

If only I had your troubles!

[eater]

thanks for another great story