“So would you be prepared to help me Penny? To help us?”

I was sitting in the bar of the gym club that my husband Peter and I belonged to, having a post-spinning-class glass of wine – okay a second glass of wine with my friend Julie.

Julie was a close family friend, the blonde, petite, china-doll-pretty, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth estranged wife of my regular lover, Tony.

Tony had left over a year ago because at the time she had started a highly public affair with a man more than twenty years her junior, a Personal Trainer at the very club in which we were sitting. Despite being the same age as me to within a few weeks, Julie appeared to be positively thriving on her new sexual existence. To my considerable envy she was looking slimmer, fitter and at least ten years younger than before her affair had started.

But the reason I was staring at her that evening was something entirely different; to my horror, Julie had just asked if my husband Pete and I would help re-unite her with her estranged husband once again.

My friend’s words had rather stunned me. Apart from the fact that for the last year she had been telling me how wonderful life with a younger man could be and how sexually satisfied she now was, she was also apparently unknowingly asking me to break up the only affair I had ever had in over twenty years of marriage.

The fact that my husband had encouraged me to take a lover and had aided and abetted me in making our new Hotwife-Cuckold relationship a reality didn’t diminish my amazement.

I looked at my friend as she sat opposite me, her tight jeans and tighter top showing off her well-toned, athletic figure. She looked very attractive. Up until her affair began, I had always considered Julie to be my closest female friend. We had met during ante-natal classes and remained close ever since. Our children had been born within a few months of each other, we had dealt with nurseries, schools and now Universities at the same time, we had gone on holidays and day trips together. Indeed, until my own affair with her husband had started a few months ago, our ‘other halves’ had been good friends too.

Julie’s affair with her Personal Trainer was now over a year old. At first it had stunned all our circle of friends, especially her almost complete lack of discretion about the whole thing; everyone who was anyone knew all about it.

Knowing Tony as well as I did, I was sure that it was the brazen flaunting of her new sexuality that had made him leave her as much as the infidelity itself. From my own unusual marriage I knew only too well how some men enjoy being cuckolded but I also knew how important it was to limit the humiliation the cuckold had to suffer.

There was no way I would have wanted my own Hotwife lifestyle or my husband’s status as willing cuckold ever to become public knowledge, but that is exactly what Julie had done to Pete.

“Are you serious?” I asked, amazed. What about...?” I asked, not knowing quite how to allude to her young lover.

“Him? He’s history,” she replied with a callousness I hadn’t suspected she possessed. “I’ve dumped him... well almost.”

“Almost?” I asked, suspiciously.

“It’s not going anywhere. It’s time to move on.”

Her words were firmb but I could see something in her eyes that told me there was more to learn. I knew better than to press her for more; instead I simply ordered a third glass of wine for us both and kept the chat going.

“I thought he’d more or less moved in,” I said, deliberately challenging.

“That’s what he thought too,” Julie replied bitterly. “I’m not having another man take me for granted.”

I paused, wondering how to move the conversation onwards.

“Is that what Tony did?” I asked, deciding on the direct route.

“Isn’t that what they all do after twenty years?” she replied, again bitterly. “Especially in bed. Be honest Penny.”

If I had been honest, I could have told her that in my case taking me for granted sexually was the last thing my husband Pete was doing. Far from it; he was making sure I got what I wanted in the bedroom department, even if it wasn’t him delivering the goods.

“So why do you want to get back with him?” I asked. “Won’t you just get disappointed again?”

Given the amazing things her husband was doing to me in bed, I could scarcely believe any woman could get bored with it. But people were strange; maybe familiarity had bred contempt, as perhaps it had done in my own marriage until recently.

“Maybe I’ve found out that there’s more to life than sex after all,” she whispered, leaning in closer. “Trust me Penny, there’s only so far a good fuck can keep your mind off the untidiness, the smell of sweaty clothes and the childish behaviour. At times it’s like having the kids back home when they were teens.”

I laughed as she intended me to though she was using the ‘f’ word in a way I had never heard her use it before. It reminded me of the way Pete and I now talked.

“I miss Tony,” she added quietly. “I miss the kids too.”

“It’s taken you long enough to realise that,” I observed.

“I’m a slow learner,” she grinned wanly. “Besides, I had plenty to keep my mind off him. I’ve got over it now.”

There was a long pause during which Julie studied me closely, waiting for me to respond to her initial request.

“You’ve really hurt him, you know?” I said quietly. “Do you think he’d want to get back with you? Have you talked to him? Has he said anything?”

The question sounded as bland as I could make it, but I was desperate to know the truth; had Tony been considering getting back with his wife at the same time as he was telling me he wanted me to stay with him?

“We’ve talked,” she told me. Though Tony had mentioned it once or twice, it still felt like a form of betrayal which should have told me my own relationship with him had already got way beyond just sex. “He hasn’t said he’ll come back, but he hasn’t said he wouldn’t either,” she replied unhelpfully.

“Can he really just forgive and forget?” I asked, amazed. “After all that’s happened?”

“I hope so,” she said. “I’ve an idea he’s found someone else. He’s different these days. I haven’t found out who it is yet but I will. I don’t know if it’s serious but if he and I could spend more time together like we used to; if it could all feel normal again, perhaps I could convince him to try again,” she continued.

This was worrying; Tony and I would have to be careful how and when we met if Julie was spying on him. But she hadn’t finished.

“If you and Pete invited us both out to dinner, or even round to your house, then Tony might feel more prepared to spend time with me instead of just talking on the phone.”

Obviously nothing could ever be ‘normal’ again between me, Tony and Pete; I couldn’t imagine even broaching the subject with my husband.

“I’m not sure he’d come Jules,” I said trying to keep her expectations low.

“But he might! Please say you’ll help, Penny! Please!”

***

Julie’s proposal kept me thinking right up to Valentine’s Day. From our pillow talk I knew perhaps better than he did how much Tony missed the life they had enjoyed before her affair. On the one hand he might jump at the chance of getting some of that back. On the other hand, he had clearly been hurt by his wife’s very public affair and was trying to keep his options open with me.

I did learn from Sports Club gossip that she and her young boyfriend had indeed parted ways; he had been seen several times in the company of one of the female Personal Trainers and in the car of another of his clients, another woman around my age.

So Julie was free to get back with her husband – if he would have her.

At that time I most certainly did not want my lover to get back with his wife, but a refusal to help would damage my relationship with her and, worse, might well result in too many questions being asked and my own affair becoming as public as hers.

Things could get very messy.

***

Valentine’s Day itself was midweek. My husband Pete and I exchanged cards and romantic gifts as usual then spent a relatively normal day at work. A bouquet of flowers arrived mid-morning with only a red heart on the accompanying card. This was awkward; who should I thank?

When I returned to the car park there was a card under the wiper of my car. I sat in the driver’s seat and opened it, my heart thumping. It was from Tony of course, the handwriting gave that away. It was also obscene; possibly the most explicit Valentine’s Day card I had ever seen but along with the rather graphic description of what he would try and do to me next time we met, there was a short, hand-written note with a very different theme.

A theme not just of sex, but of love.

It also made clear that the flowers were not from him which made my arrival home twenty minutes later a lot more relaxed.

I was even more pleased to receive a message on my phone from our daughter Isobel to say that her new boyfriend Simon had not only sent her a card and flowers, but had arrived in person to take her out to dinner and stay overnight in her room. As this had involved a journey from London of over four hours, it showed a level of commitment that was heart-warming.

Simon was the boy who had seduced my foolish daughter at a recent University ball, thereby unintentionally breaking up her long standing relationship with her previous boyfriend. Their lovemaking had apparently been so passionate throughout the entire night they had spent fucking that Izzy’s cries had earned her the unfortunate nickname ‘Izzy-Oh-God! I had yet to meet Simon – I hadn’t even seen a photo of him but had been assured by my somewhat chastened daughter that he was drop-dead-gorgeous.

Pete took me out to dinner in one of our city’s finest and most romantic restaurants. The taxi was German, the waiter was Polish, the food was French, the wine from New Zealand, the water from Scotland but the sex that followed was truly British and very pleasant indeed.

As usual with Pete’s long, thin cock I didn’t reach orgasm but I wasn’t too far away and the copious insemination that followed went a long way towards making up for the minor disappointment.

When we were lying side by side afterwards, Pete reached into the bedside cabinet and pulled out a small rectangular package. He gave it to me with a kiss.

“A little extra present,” he smiled.

“The flowers were more than enough,” I protested. “And the chocolates.”

Pete had given me my favourite confectionery as well.

“They were for Public Penny, my wife,” he grinned. “This is for the Hotwife Slut she’s turned into!”

I opened the wrapping and pulled out a small jewellery box. Inside was a gold chain, too long to be a bracelet but too short to make a good necklace. I looked at Pete, puzzled.

“It’s a Slut Wife anklet,” he said. “For you to wear on your dates – or when we’re out together and you want to remind yourself and me what you’ve become.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the word ‘slut’ in that context but the evidence was hard to deny. My secret dates with Tony and the intensity of our lovemaking made the term feel even more appropriate.

“We can add charms if you like,” he continued. “I found it on the net; there’s a good few to choose from.” He chuckled. “I wanted to get one for each ankle with the words ‘Open’ and ‘Here’.”

I laughed too; it was a good idea. I was sure Tony would love it.

“So when do you think I might get to watch you being fucked?” he asked, the familiar theme reappearing. “It was part of the deal, remember?”

“I don’t know Pete,” I replied, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. “I’m not sure you and Tony in the same room while I’m being fucked would be a good idea.”

“In which case you need another fuck-buddy,” Pete insisted. “It wasn’t supposed to be an exclusive arrangement with him, was it? I thought having lots of lovers was part of the attraction.”

It was – or at least it had been when my Hotwife existence had started two months ago. Now, after spending so much time with Tony and feeling the way we were both beginning to feel about each other, I wasn’t so sure.

With our second romantic overnight stay in the discreet, country house hotel still ahead of us, my ability to concentrate solely on the joys of physical sex was becoming very uncertain.

***

“I love you, Penny Barker,” Tony said quietly. “I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”

It was two days later and we were lying in bed together in our country house hotel. We were naked, sweating and panting in the small hours of Saturday morning, tired but satisfied after a wonderful hour of wild, tipsy, energetic sex to celebrate the recently-passed Valentine’s Day.

I had had to lie to my husband to be there; Pete believed me to be taking part in a conference in London as he had the last time Tony and I had enjoyed an overnight stay in the same hotel. It was definitely not what Pete and I had agreed; I wasn’t supposed to see my lover without my husband’s agreement but things had got a bit out of hand.

Unable to wait the planned full week between dates, I had now seen Tony four times without Pete’s knowledge, each deception that little bit easier than the one before, each adding to the illicit thrill of the whole affair.

Perhaps as a result of this extra edge, when Tony’s cock had entered my body after a romantic dinner and a night-time walk hand in hand in the darkness of the gardens, the breeding frenzy had struck me with a vengeance. I had been forced to bite hard on one of the crisp white pillows to stifle the crude animal noises that were emanating from my throat. Now, as I lay there, freshly inseminated, my head was spinning, my hips ached and my still-shaved vulva was red raw where Tony’s pubic hair had ground hard against it.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since the kids were in nursery,” he continued. “I never dreamed it would actually happen. I’m so glad it has.”

I chuckled and kissed him on his salty lips. “That feeling is mutual.”

“Was it mutual back then?”

“I’m not telling,” I said coquettishly. “Maybe it was; maybe you just grew on me.”

We both knew full well that there had been a spark between us for many years. Indeed ten years ago when I had first started writing there had been a couple of near-misses where, had circumstances been different, he and I might well have fallen into bed a whole decade before it had actually happened.

The stories I wrote at the time had been under one of my early male pseudonyms and told the tale of how I would have loved to seduce him and start an affair with him. Writing as if I was the man being seduced, seeing myself as the seducer from Tony’s point of view had been a strange experience but it had helped me deal with an otherwise dry patch in my marriage while remaining faithful to my husband in body, if not in spirit.

Now of course the fantasy had become a reality, my fidelity was long gone and our affair was all around us.

I remembered those fantasies well and how wide of the mark I now knew them to have been. In my fantasies, I had never imagined Tony’s cock in detail; it had simply been something vaguely large and expertly wielded that brought me great pleasure. In reality, his erect cock was short and stubby but very thick, bringing a fresh tightness when thrust into to my over-sized vagina that had been lacking since the last of my children had been born.

Tony slipped his arm around me and held me close on the bed. I could feel his heart beating in his nearly hairless chest and could smell the distinctive masculine aroma of a strong man soon after he has cum. It was an aroma that spoke to the most basic, almost primeval parts of my soul, especially when his life-creating fluid was lying as deep within my own body as Tony’s was then.

I inhaled and closed my eyes, basking in the truly rewarding, entirely feminine, earth-mother aura that for me, a full and copious insemination always produced.

“I think we’ve gone way beyond just fucking now, don’t you?” Tony said dreamily as he massaged my tiny left boob. “I think I’ve really, actually fallen in love with you. Mrs. Barker.”

The instinctive response was to say that I loved him too. The words were on the tip of my tongue but I stopped them just in time. There was no doubt in my mind that I did love this man but I wasn’t ready to hear myself admit it as openly as I felt it. Something told me that to say those three words at that time, in that room and in that atmosphere would change everything.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” he continued. “I want you to come home with me; live with me; make babies with me.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” I smiled. Although my menopause still hadn’t started, Tony’s vasectomy ten years before had ensured that pregnancy was the least of our concerns. “But I suppose we could practice, just in case,” I added cheekily.

Tony made a big deal of looking down at his groin where little was stirring.

“In a minute or two we might try again,” he grinned cheekily. “If your Little Pink Pussy doesn’t mind another visit from my cock, of course.”

“My Little Pick Pussy would love a visit from your cock again,” I said archly; my pussy was indeed an angry, over-used pink as was Tony’s flaccid cock. “When your little friend down there is good and ready.”

“Perhaps if you helped wake him up a little?” Tony smiled innocently.

Taking my cue with a broad grin, I slipped down Tony’s body to the place where his short, stubby cock was struggling into life. Barely semi-erect, it twitched as it lay across his pubic triangle, glistening with the sticky combination of my own juices and his semen.

Even then I couldn’t believe how such an ugly appendage could produce such extraordinary sensations when thrust in and out of the place in my body for which it had been created. But the last three months had proved without a doubt that it could; Tony’s oh-so-thick cock could produce in my married, cheating loins feelings that after twenty monogamous years, my husband’s long, slender shaft couldn’t even approach.

I took the half hard phallus in my fingers, toying with it, running my fingertips up and down its sticky length, cupping the full sack at its base and pulling back the skin to reveal the smooth end in its purple-pink glory before finally taking it into my mouth.

The sour, earthy second-hand taste of my own vaginal juices made me wince at first, but I persevered, running my tongue up and down the underside of his shaft, from his sack to his tip and back, then along the ridge between the smooth end and the thick, undulating shaft.

A pocket of my own strong-tasting juices awaited my tongue there too, making me shiver again. How it was that my lover and my husband could get such pleasure out of filling their mouths with such bitter-tasting fluids was beyond me. I was just very pleased that they did.

Never a big fan of fellatio, my skills in that department were more workmanlike than inspired but they were having the desired effect. Much, much thicker than my husband’s, I could feel Tony’s cock swelling in my mouth, its floppy shaft gradually becoming firmer and firmer as it prepared itself for the important task of penetrating my vagina.

As it rose to its full length and sturdy girth, Tony lifted my head away from his groin and rolled me gently onto my back. My legs opened wide almost of their own accord, giving him plenty of room to mount me as he wished. Tony rose over me for the umpteenth time, his knees between mine, his arms either side of my shoulders.

“She looks a bit sore,” he said, inspecting the rather red triangle between my thighs.

He was right; she was indeed sore and stretched but at that moment, pain didn’t matter. All I wanted was more of the same.

“Then you’d better be gentle with her,” I teased.

In the end, gentle was the last thing Tony’s cock was. Though his penetration was slow and careful, the speed and power of his strokes escalated quickly. Within minutes he was thrusting in and out of my sore, over-stretched vagina hard and fast as if trying to fuck my ancestors rather than just me, their adulterous descendent.

I came hard, despite or maybe because of the pain, wailing into the pillow, raking his chest with my fingernails so hard they drew blood from around his left nipple. My body shook as the bedsprings groaned and bounced, slamming my hips upwards to meet his powerful downward strokes until finally his face turned into an ugly grimace and he began to cum in me once again.

His long, strong body crushed me into the mattress as the last drops of semen were pumped against my cervix and his cock gradually softened inside me. As I drifted off into a doze, my soft, feminine body bruised and exhausted but comfortingly full of a strong man’s seed, all I could hear was a dreamy female voice saying three simple words over and over again.

“I love you I love you I love you!”

I fell asleep, dimly aware that something had just changed.

***

When I woke it was morning. Tony was lying next to me, watching me with adoration in his eyes. We made love again, slowly and lingeringly, both of us sore but unwilling to miss what might be our last opportunity of the overnight stay.

This time we both murmured those three magic words as our bodies merged together.

After our bodies had reluctantly separated, for half an hour and in a dazed, post-coital state we had talked about our love; how wonderful it would be if we could live together; how extra-ordinarily compatible we were in bed and in life; how painful it was to have to separate straight after our lovemaking; how sweet our lives could be if we were together all the time not just for the stolen hours we currently spent fucking.

From there it was only a short journey towards imagining how we might make it actually happen. Before I realised how far things had got, we were planning how we would leave our spouses and move in together, getting married as soon as our divorces came through.

We then fucked wildly and madly one last time like two demons possessed, the breeding frenzy taking me to new levels of animal lust.

It was utter, utter madness; a castle built on sand but for us, in that room, on that day it seemed real.

I should never have let it happen! If I had kept to the once-per-week fuck-sessions Pete had agreed then everything would have been alright. If I hadn’t piled deception upon deception and had kept things as physical as they had started, things might have been different.

It wasn’t as if it was a surprise; seeing too much of one fuck-buddy and falling in love with him was one of the biggest dangers every single one of my online cuckold friends had warned me about.

But I hadn’t listened; Penny always knew best! Stupid woman!

***

I returned to my husband that evening, battered, sore and very unsettled. I had to keep up the pretence that I had been at the conference again which was difficult given my heavy preoccupation but I couldn’t let Pete find out just how far my deceit had gone.

The dilemma prevented me sleeping for the next three nights too. On the one hand, there was no doubt that I loved my amazing husband. There should have been no question; I should choose him over my lover without hesitation. I had promised to do nothing less but...

But on the other hand, I was unquestionably having the best sex of my life with a man I loved, who loved me too and wanted me to marry him.

There was no doubt at all that I still loved my husband so how could I love Tony too? Could I be in love with them both at the same time? Was that even possible? I had already proved that a woman could fuck two men at the same time but surely love was different.

I couldn’t live with them both, that was certain so what could I do? There was no answer to that question that wouldn’t hurt at least two of the three of us.

***

By late Sunday morning, twenty four hours had passed and two dozen messages from Tony had arrived since he and I had kissed each other goodbye as we left the hotel. They were almost all on the same theme; when could we spend yet more time together? When would I tell Pete how we felt about each other? When could I move in with him?

I had replied as evasively as I could and made as few promises as I could but there was no denying the way my heart felt, however clearly my head told me otherwise. And as for my sore vulva, well that was sending its own messages loudly and clearly!

Despite my best efforts at behaving normally, Pete had noticed a marked change in my manner over the weekend. I had been at best, detached, at worst bad tempered and impatient with him and things had not gone well in bed. As a result we had not made love on Saturday night which was a blessing; my body still bore far too many signs of the excessive penetrations from Tony it had enjoyed over the last two days.

I knew it was unfair on Pete but I couldn’t help myself. Several times he asked me what was wrong. I tried to deflect his questions with other questions but he had been very persistent so I had resorted to rudeness.

There was a serious conversation approaching; I could feel it but wasn’t ready to face it yet.

Meanwhile, having had one highly successful illicit assignation on a Saturday morning instead of going to the gym, it was perilously easy to arrange another. Memories of all Tony and I had said to each other during our romantic Valentine’s stay remained with me, reinforced by the continual stream of messages we exchanged on my secret phone.

The momentum was gathering. On the one hand I had my wonderful husband of over twenty years, the father of my three children, the man who loved me enough to let me have a free hand in my sex life; the man who trusted me enough to let me go to my lover in the belief I would return.

On the other hand, there was my lover; a man who had shown me better, more exciting sex than I had imagined existed; who had changed the way in which I saw my life, my future and myself. A man who had said over and over again that he loved me and wanted me to move in with him, leaving all of my previous humdrum life behind to join him in a world of hot passionate sex.

And I was stupid and arrogant enough to believe the choice was mine and mine alone!

On Tuesday evening I went to Tony’s apartment again instead of going to the gym. The same happened the following Saturday morning despite having had my ‘Official Date’ on Thursday evening in between. Although I had allowed Pete free access to my soiled body afterwards and had watched him eating his regular creampie from between my thighs, I did not reach orgasm under his tongue and had to resort to my dubious acting skills to make things appear normal.

The following Tuesday and Saturday saw me repeat my unofficial visits to Tony’s apartment, becoming so blasé that I no longer worried about parking around the corner.

Tony was away on business the following week so both my official and unofficial dates had been impossible. Consequently I was feeling very sexually frustrated and excited when I drove round to his apartment the following Saturday morning dressed in my gym kit.

I told myself once again that hadn’t actually lied to Pete; I had just changed into my sports clothes and left the house. If he chose to believe I was going to the gym that was his decision.

The problem was that with perfect timing, one of my unreliable periods had arrived that very morning. I had messaged Tony to warn him that there would be no penetrative sex that day but he had insisted we could ‘find another way’ to pleasure each other.

After a barren, sexless week I was nearly desperate to see him again but at the back of my mind was the worrying thought that the ‘other way’ he had in mind might be anal sex. Pete and I had tried it once; it had been a disaster, hurting us both even with Pete’s slender erection and had put me off the whole idea ever since. Tony’s cock was much, much thicker; it would not be entering my rectum that morning however hard he tried to persuade me.

When I walked excitedly through the door, we had fallen on each other, our mouths and tongues locking together while Tony’s fingers working their magic on my boobs, buttocks and vulva through my tight-fitting gym clothes, bringing me to a state of arousal in which I might almost have done anything for him.

Almost.

Sensing my near-desperation, Tony did indeed suggest that we gave my back door a try. Despite my arousal I was firm and rejected the idea but either I wasn’t clear enough or he had more tenacity than I had expected.

“You’ll love it,” he smiled persuasively, running a finger along the cleft between my buttocks.

“Please Tony! I’m not keen,” I insisted, not wanting to confess Pete and I had tried and failed.

“It gets better with experience too,” he continued. “Lots of women get more out of it that straight sex.”

“You know a lot of women who take it up their bottoms?” I challenged jokingly.

“I know at least one,” he replied then seemed anxious that he had given away a secret.

It took a moment for the penny to drop,

“You mean you and Julie...?”

He nodded, surprisingly embarrassed.

“We’ve done it for years. She really likes it, especially....”

“Especially when she’s on her period?”

He nodded again.

This was yet another shock. Julie had been my closest friend; with her butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth prettiness, it suggested innocence and naivete rather than sexual adventurism. I had already learned that her sex drive was so strong that she had routinely fucked her husband throughout her periods; that had been a big surprise in itself. The image of that pale, delicate body with Tony’s thick stubby cock thrust into her rectum was even harder to contemplate.

“I know what I’m doing Penny. It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“I’m sorry Tony, it’ not for me; at least not today okay?”

Whatever his professed abilities, this time I was firm; there was going to be no anal sex for me that day.

If I’m honest, the idea had always fascinated me; it certainly wasn’t something I never wanted to try but the circumstances – and the proposed cock - would have to be right. If my husband’s slim erection had been so painful, the ‘right cock’ was definitely not Tony’s thick shaft so I crossed it firmly off the menu.

But having arrived in his apartment and become so aroused, I couldn’t offer Tony no sexual liaison at all and desperately needed some relief myself. An acceptable alternative would have to be found. In my menstrual state I didn’t want Tony’s mouth anywhere near my vulva so there was only one alternative; I would have to dust off my teenage oral skills and give my lover the best blowjob I could manage.

And I would have to do it quickly or else I might weaken. The look of disappointment of his face was almost funny.

“Don’t look so disappointed,” I said in a ‘talking to baby’ voice, taking his fingers in mine and drawing him closer. “I’m sure we can find a way to ease your frustration.”

Tony smiled then looked surprised as I cupped the bulge in his jeans. It was already firm; the mere thought of anal sex was clearly a massive turn on for him.

“Come on,” I said in as alluring a voice as I could manage, leading him into the lounge where I pulled him towards the large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the car park, the neighbours’ apartments and the formal gardens.

The sofa on which we had made love so many times stood at an angle to the window. I quickly pushed it round so that it stood with its back to the glass, the cushions facing into the room.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked, intrigued as he stood in the window, clearly visible to anyone watching from below.

“Just come here,” I said archly.

Tony obediently walked around the sofa until it stood between him and the window.

“What are you up to, Penny?” he smiled.

Without a word I dropped to my knees in front of him then, looking up into his puzzled eyes, I pulled my gym top up and over my head, leaving me in my sports bra. Then, as sexily and lingeringly as I could manage, I rolled the tight bra upwards and away, leaving me on my knees, topless at my lover’s feet.

“Wow! You are a minx, Mrs. Barker,” Tony breathed, stroking me under my chin with his fingers.

If my calculations were correct, my entire body would be hidden from the window by the sofa but Tony’s whole upper body could be seen by anyone in the car park or in the opposite apartments. I silently prayed they were correct; if not a number of my lover’s neighbours were about to have their Saturday morning enlivened by a rather startling scene.

My hands rose to his waist and I began to fumble with his belt buckle. Tony tried to help but I batted his hands away and continued until both the belt and waistband had been unfastened. Then, gazing upward deep into his eyes, I lowered his jeans slowly to his ankles.

The bulge in his briefs was very large and, with my head merely inches away, very threatening. Despite having felt it inside me countless times, I still felt nervous as I eased the elastic waistband downwards over his tight, athletic buttocks and carefully clear of the thick, rounded, still-swelling head of his cock.

“Jesus!” I gasped as, freed of its constraints, Tony’s thick shaft sprang forward, catching me by surprise and nearly poking me in the right eye. “That was close!”

“That’s your fault, Mrs. Barker,” Tony said in a soft, breathless voice. “What do you expect me to be like when the sexist woman in the world is on her knees like a slut in front of me.”

I looked up into his eyes again, seeing a level of lust that was new and thrilling; hoping desperately that my oral skills could deliver even a fraction of the pleasure his look was demanding. Fellatio hadn’t featured strongly in my sex life since I had lost my virginity and discovered the sheer unworldly delight of being inseminated so I felt very much out of practice.

Steeling myself and trying desperately to remember the few techniques I used to know when I was younger, I took the huge thick shaft in my right hand and began to pump my fist up and down his short shaft, slowly at first then slightly faster and with a firmer grip.

“Mmmm! Mrs Barker,” Tony hummed. “You’ve been practicing!”

I smiled up at him again then somewhat anxiously and with my left hand cupping his balls, opened my lips and took the head of his cock into my mouth.

It had been so long since I had knelt and sucked a cock that I had to think hard to remember how to do it properly. I knew several of my early boyfriends used to love what I did but over the years I had got out of practice. Now, with the thickest cock I had ever encountered in my mouth, I had to remember fast but to my relief, instinct took over and soon my mouth and tongue were all over and around the smooth, warm head of Tony’s cock.

“Oh that’s good!”

Encouraged by the noises from above my head and trying to remember the few porn films I had seen in my life, I began to work my right hand and mouth together up and down his shaft while my left hand cupped and massaged his tight scrotum.

“Mmmmm!”

My head dipped forwards and backwards as I carefully let my teeth scrape along the smooth, firm sides of Tony’s cock while my tongue smothered its swelling, sensitive head.

“Oh Fuck! You’re an amazing cock-sucker Mrs. Barker!”

Tony’s moans of pleasure filled me with delight. I felt his hands on the sides of my head, guiding the pace of my licking and dipping, forcing his cock a little deeper into my mouth with each movement until I felt it graze the roof of my mouth and the back of my throat.

Almost imperceptibly the balance began to change. One moment I was dipping and sucking, my head bobbing up and down on his cock, the next he was fucking my face, his hands holding my head firmly, his hips moving backwards and forwards, thrusting his cock rhythmically into my open mouth.

“Christ! You’re a dirty bitch, Mrs Barker!” Tony growled as the pace and depth of his thrusts increased.

In my highly-aroused state I took this as a real compliment, as if kneeling in front of a man, allowing him to use my married mouth as a vagina was something to be proud of. My body certainly felt it was; I could feel the heat emanating from my groin as my vulva wept whatever juices it could muster into the gusset of my gym tights. My hands gripped his tight buttocks as if trying to pull him even deeper into my face.

“Penny you slut!”

The tightness of his grip on my hair grew stronger and his thrusts grew deeper still. The head of Tony’s cock struck the back of my throat, making me gag. He pulled back for a moment to let me recover then continued with renewed passion. The wet sloppy sounds of a short thick cock fucking a wet, gagging mouth filled my ears as Tony face-fucked me like a common street whore.

My hands flew to his hips to try and limit the depth of his penetration and to my relief it worked. Although still hitting the back of my throat, I no longer felt as if I was about to suffocate. Then like a flash I felt his body go tense, his hips shudder and his knees wobble.

“Oh my God I’m going to...”

Suddenly realising what was about to happen I pulled my head back, my mouth open gasping for breath. It was a mistake; the first rope of semen struck me under the left eye but the second scored a direct hit straight into my open mouth. A third rope followed it, then a fourth as Tony pulled my head sharply forward, forcing his pulsating, spurting cock back between my lips as his ejaculation cascaded from the tiny lips on its tip.

Given my lifelong obsession with having my lovers cum inside my body, it had been decades since a man had ejaculated in my mouth and the experience came as a shock. The taste, texture and sheer volume of semen were almost frightening.

Tony’s whole body was shaking, his hands on the back of my head preventing me from escape until every last drop of semen had left his body and entered my mouth and he finally released my head from his grasp.

“Wow Penny!” he panted.

I couldn’t reply, too busy trying to recover my breath and wondering what to do with the mouthful of warm, sticky goo I had just received. Instead I just looked up of him, my eyes fixed on his.

“Can I see?” he asked, stroking me under the chin and raising my face towards his.

I opened my lips half way, the air on my tongue making me very aware of the strange taste and texture of the pool of semen which was filling my mouth.

“That is so sexy,” he hissed. “Do you swallow, Mrs Barker?”

I stared up at him, shocked. This really was new; the idea of swallowing a mouthful of slimy semen was horrifying and yet...

“Spit it out you want, but I think you’d rather feel it slip down your throat.”

Disgusting though it sounded, he was quite right. Having not had any form of release myself, I was still deeply aroused and probably not thinking straight. I fixed my eyes fixed on his, opened my mouth wide, ran my tongue over and through the pool of semen inside then forced myself to swallow.

At first I choked on the gooey slime then, taking a deep breath through my nose, I forced myself to try again and two ghastly gulps later, all Tony’s slimy semen had disappeared down my throat.

“Christ! You did it!” Tony gasped, “Open your mouth Penny, let me see!”

I smiled broadly and opened my mouth wide.

“Stick out your tongue!”

I obeyed again, the air rushing into my mouth heightening the residual taste of his cum on my tongue.

“You are amazing, Mrs Barker. Simply amazing!”

I thought I had been amazing too.

***

Half an hour later, I drove myself slowly home, the heady flavour of Tony’s salty semen still strong in my mouth. My vulva had remained untouched so, strictly speaking I was still sexually unsatisfied but it didn’t feel like that; my mind was buzzing with confusion and excitement.

In my work and even in my home life, I was usually the one in charge. It was me that made decisions, me who commanded respect. In a strange, perverse way, for me to have taken such a submissive role – on my knees and swallowing my lover’s semen - had felt like an extraordinary release.

Yes, I had played the dirty submissive slut but my God, it had been exciting. Had I just discovered yet another something new about myself? Had my lover awakened a part of me that my husband had left unstirred for over twenty years?

As I pulled into the driveway my heart sank; Pete’s car was still there. I knew he was on call that day and in recent months that had always meant having to go into work. I had been counting on having the house to myself to try and get my head in order; to work out a way through the mess my life had become and the new ideas that were making my head spin.

With Pete still home, that opportunity would be denied me. I would have to try and pretend all was normal when it was the last thing I felt. I pulled my car to a halt beside my husband’s Porsche, took a deep breath, steeled myself then took my gym bag from the back seat and entered the house.

“Hi Penny!”

The voice from above sounded normal; cheerful even.

“Hi!” I called in return as I began to climb the stairs. “What are you doing up here?”

“Getting changed; I’ve been called into work again.”

I wave of relief washed over me. At least I would get some time to myself to try and think.

“How was it?” Pete asked as I entered the bedroom and threw my bag into the closet.

After a real gym session, I would normally go straight into the shower. I had to keep up the fiction that I had just come from a sweaty exercise class though, I realised, the lack of either sex or exertion had left me without the healthy pink tinge my complexion would normally have borne.

“Not as tough as usual,” I smiled, hoping to allay any suspicions my lack of sweat might attract.

“Or you’re getting fitter,” he grinned. “I’ve always fancied you in your gym kit.”

“Pete,” I protested. “Don’t embarrass me.”

“It’s true my sexy Hotwife,” he said, pulling me into his arms before I could even think of resisting and kissing me on the lips.

It was our usual perfunctory kiss; sweet but routine, mouths closed, my hands in his. I made to break away and go into the bathroom but Pete frowned and instead of releasing me and going on with his business, he pulled be back into him and kissed me again.

This time when his lips touched mine, it wasn’t perfunctory; this time it was a real kiss, his tongue running along my lips, parting them and diving deep into my mouth.

At first I resisted, taken by surprise at this display of sexual interest at an unusual time of day but then I yielded, opening my mouth to allow my husband’s tongue to reach into the places my lover’s had been less than an hour before, feeling relieved that Tony and I hadn’t fucked before parting; that my body didn’t smell of recent, illicit sex.

Pete’s embrace lasted and lasted, his tongue working overtime in my mouth. I responded as best I could, my body pressed against his but then he broke the kiss, released my waist and stepped back half a pace.

To my horror, when he looked me in the eye there was no sign of love or lust in his expression.

“What’s going on Penny?” he asked coldly.

“What do you mean?” I asked, surprised.

“Your breath reeks of semen. You taste of it too.”

A cold wave washed over me. How could I have forgotten to brush my teeth after swallowing Tony’s cum? It was a stupid rookie error; but then I was a stupid rookie. Shit! It was far too late to do anything about it now.

I tried to look my husband in the face but my eyes would not rise to his. Instead I heard his voice, cold and hard as his eyes burned into my head.

“You’ve been fucking him again behind my back, haven’t you?”

The accusation was hard and very accurate.

“Pete I...” I protested weakly.

“I don’t want to hear it Penny. You’ve been cheating again!”

***

I don’t know what was worse; the guilt or the fact that for the whole of the next horrible half hour, Pete managed to contain his anger.

If he had shouted and screamed at me I could perhaps have generated some indignation and got angry myself; I could perhaps have deflected some of the responsibility that was piling up on me. But he didn’t; throughout the whole terrible conversation Pete remained calm but terribly, frighteningly cold. There was no shouting, no tears, no threats, just hurt, hurt and more hurt. And it was me who had inflicted it.

I had confessed immediately; there had been no point in denying my husband’s accusation; it was true and there was more he could have accused me of too.

“How many times have you fucked him in secret? Pete asked.

“Half a dozen,” I told him as truthfully as I could.

“When?”

“I’ve not gone to the gym for a few weeks. I’ve been going to see him.”

“On top of your fuck-dates? Three times a week?”

He was incredulous. I just nodded.

“Jesus Penny! How much sex do you need?”

“I think it’s gone beyond just sex,” I said quietly.

“What do you mean by that exactly?”

From his voice he was shocked. I could feel a bitterness coming into him that was uncharacteristic and very unsettling – as if the current situation wasn’t unsettling enough. But having started there was no way to avoid finishing and within a few minutes I had blurted out the truth.

Pete sat there in silence as I told him how often Tony and I had seen each other without his agreement; how I had manipulated us two overnight stays in a hotel instead of going to conferences. How we had been sleeping together three or four times a week instead of the one fuck-session Pete had believed was going on.

“You weren’t at those conferences at all?” he asked in a dead-pan voice.

“I was with him. Both times.”

“In his flat?”

“In a hotel.”

“Pretending to be his wife?”

I nodded. In the cold light of day, what had seemed romantic and daring at the time now sounded cheap and sordid. Pete looked at me, stunned, then slowly began to pace around the floor.

There was only one thing to do and that was to come clean; to tell him everything so, taking a deep breath, I told my husband about the conversation Tony and I had had in bed only a matter of days ago.

The shock must have been terrible but my amazing husband managed to remain relatively calm. His face went pink then deathly white as revelation after revelation about my betrayal was revealed.

“Are you in love with him too?” he asked when I had finally finished, his voice full of emotion.

“I suppose I am,” I confessed. There was no point lying to my husband over anything now. “I’m certainly in lust with him. It’s hard to tell the difference.”

“Especially when you spend so much time in bed,” Pete said bitterly.

I smiled wanly.

“He wants me to leave you and move in with him.”

“Bastard!”

“I’m sorry, Pete.”

“Do you want to? Leave me and live with him?” he asked.

“It’s... complicated,” I replied inadequately.

“This is a yes or no question, Penny.”

“I don’t know!” I pleaded, my anxiety breaking through. “I don’t want to lose you and all we’ve built together but…”

“But you want him as well?” Pete suggested.

I nodded.

“And you don’t think it’s going to work the way it is now?” he asked. “Regular fucking’s not good enough for you anymore?”

I tried to ignore the verbal stab but it still hurt.

“I don’t know, Pete. I love you so much, honestly I do. When it all started, I promised I would stop seeing him if it ever looked like threatening our marriage and I meant it… but it all went too far before I realised and...”

“And now you’re in too deep?”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do!”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked reasonably. “I thought you were getting everything you wanted.”

“No, Pete. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not you, it’s me!”

There! I’d said it; I had used the dreadful cliché used by every dissatisfied spouse since the dawn of time.

“That’s not good enough, Penny,” he said, finally beginning to get emotional. “Fuck! That bastard!”

“Pete, you can’t blame Tony; or at least not put all the blame on him. We’re all to blame to some extent.”

“All of us? How am I to blame?” he demanded.

I could have said that the only reason I let Tony fuck me in the first place was because of the pressure Pete had put on me to find a lover. I could have said the whole thing had started because of his perverted fantasies.

But there was no point and it wasn’t really true. Given what I now knew about myself, I might well have yielded to Tony’s advances eventually without any pressure from my husband at all. To my shame, even then I didn’t regret letting him seduce me; since that day I had enjoyed more and better sex than at any time in my life so I tried to keep blame away from the situation altogether.

Pete thought for a long time.

“It was only supposed to be sex,” he said. “He was only supposed to fuck you! It wasn’t supposed to wreck our marriage. We agreed, Penny. We agreed!”

“I know. I didn’t plan on falling in love,” I protested. “And it hasn’t wrecked our marriage… yet,” I added hoping it was true.

“Haven’t you enjoyed all the sex?” he asked, ignoring my last words. “Isn’t it enough to get so much fucking? Your cunt has never seen so much cock!”

“You know I’ve enjoyed it,” I replied, trying to ignore the hurtful crudeness of his words. “It’s been incredible. I didn’t expect it to be this good but I didn’t expect to get so emotionally involved either. I thought I could keep it physical. I was wrong. I thought you were enjoying all that sex too.”

“I was; I still am! That’s the worst part. Knowing you’re being fucked so hard and so well has put a buzz in our marriage like nothing I’ve ever known.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I assume whatever happens, you’d like that bit to continue? You don’t want the sex to stop?”

“Do you?” I asked.

“To be honest, no I don’t. That’s assuming I’m still part of the calculation. I don’t want to lose you either but we can’t go on like this.”

There was another pause.

“That’s if I haven’t lost you already,” he added.

I shrugged helplessly. There was nothing I could usefully say.

“Would he let things go back to where they used to be?” Pete asked, still not using Tony’s name. “When he was just fucking you?”

“I don’t know. I think he needs to know where he stands,” I said inadequately.

“Meaning whether sex is all he’s ever going to get from you?”

I nodded again. “If he thought I’d ever really leave you and live with him he’d give up on Julie. If that’s never going to happen…”

“He’d maybe give her another chance?”

“Maybe. Now he’s cheated on her too, he’s starting to feel differently.”

“And you’re not sure what you want?”

“I’m so sorry Pete. You’ve been so amazingly understanding about the whole thing; it’s just got out of control. It feels like I’m at a crossroads; a watershed. It’s as if I need to make the most important decision of my life and need some space to make it.”

“Deciding whether to leave your husband and family and move in with your lover? If you can think of a more important decision I’d like to hear about it. It’s the most important decision in my life, that’s for sure!”

He was right. My chest, heart and belly all ached with the strength of my emotions.

“I know what I should do… but it’s so hard!”

He thought for a while, perched on the edge of the table.

“Could you stop seeing him? Be honest Penny; could you still do it? Or is it too late?”

The question made me think hard.

“If you really wanted me to then yes I could,” I eventually replied but there was hesitation in my voice.

“But you’d probably feel bitter towards me afterwards,” he said with remarkable perception. I nodded. “And that bitterness in itself might damage what little of our marriage was left?”

I nodded again.

“But if we did split up and I moved in with him it would probably destroy my relationship with our kids as well as with you,” I added, tears running down my cheeks.

“So what do you want to do?” he asked calmly but with tension in his voice.

“I don’t know,” I cried, tears running down my cheeks.

“Well I’ll tell you what we’re going to do, shall I?”

I turned suddenly to look at him. His voice was firm, strong and decisive.

“Wh... what?” I asked anxiously.

“We’re going to have a break from each other, Penny.”

“What are you saying?” I asked. Had I just heard my marriage ending?

“I think we need to spend some time apart. Whatever you need, I need to get a bit of perspective on all this,” he continued.

“You don’t love me anymore?” I asked, feeling the blood drain from my wretched face and chest.

“I do love you Penny but I’m not sure I trust you. I need some space.”

“Space for what?”

“Space to… to work a few things out.”

“You want us to split up?”

“No! At least not yet,” he replied cruelly.

There was a long pause. I could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t make things worse.

“How long do you mean?” I stammered, reality forcing its presence on me hard.

“I don’t know. Maybe days, maybe longer but I need to put a bit of distance between us.”

“Pete please...”

“I think we both have big decisions to make, don’t you?” Pete continued. “As I see it you have three choices. Do you want to give up your lover and our new lifestyle up and become a bitter, sexually frustrated wife for the rest of your life?

“Or, do you want to leave me, run off with him and end up an angry divorcee who can’t see her children?

“Or, do you want to do what we agreed you would do? Keep on being Penny the Hotwife, getting fucked by other men but coming home to me afterwards?”

At that moment I could see only those three options too. But Pete hadn’t finished.

“But remember I get a say in this decision too. While you’re deciding which Penny you want to be, I’ll be deciding if I can continue to be married to any of them.”

Oh my God! He was really contemplating leaving me!

“Now I have to go to work. Don’t bother calling me. I’ll be very busy!”

With that, Pete left the room. I moment later I heard the front door closing and the roar of his Porsche in the driveway.

I felt more alone than at any time in my life.