I was fully clothed the first time I read Jessica’s letter. I sat on the settee and digested each word. I perused every sentence for basic meaning. Nothing extraordinary, just a letter from my wife, describing in awful detail, how she fucked a stranger. I disregarded the obvious truths, that not only had I agreed to the liaison, but while it was happening, I was in my own house, fixing my wife and her lover a special dinner.

The second time I read the letter, I saw every detail in my mind’s eye. This went beyond voyeuristic. The real people she wrote about were herself and her lover. I could imagine Jess’s meticulous ritual of bath, oils, and salts. She probably got hot, watching Larry get clean. Her lustful pulling on his balls, telling him she was going to drain him, was a promise I knew she’d keep. It was like I was in our bathroom watching them.

I never thought she’d be into him, offering to be his whore, his cum-dump for the evening. My assumption was that it would be a one-and-done, one-off, as Larry said. Downstairs, in the kitchen, I had set the pasta on low for an hour, tapping my foot, declining more smoke and drink, making sure I had my wits about me when they would show up.

Then I recalled the marriage counseling class we attended at church. The presenter talked about the stages of the sex act, with the climax being around the seventieth moment in time, the remainder being post-sex clean up, cuddling, small talk, whispers and secrets exchanged. Finally, one person would break the mood and life would go on.

What the fuck did they talk about afterwards? She didn’t tell me much more than him wanting to return. Did they have a plan I was yet privy to?

Larry had a persuasive line, “Once Jess and you step out of the normal marriage, you won't want to return to it. Pandora’s box is wide open.”

I thought, 'Where did he get that information? What empirical study showed that once a person cheats, he/she invariably will repeat the behavior?

Did 'Jess' tell me all? I doubt they did anal, but he might have played around with her virgin ass. Speaking of that, why was she acting like a virgin? Is her ass still virginal?

Did I doubt that I would reclaim her? Of course not! I discarded the idea that my reclaiming would include marking her with hickeys and love-bites. I assumed no one else would see those bare titties but me, from now on.

I decided reclaiming would not be tonight. I was being more than gracious; I was being practical. Women have a max point, beyond which it becomes a mercy-fuck. Honestly, I was spent as well.

Fuck her dare!!

“If you don’t reclaim me by midnight, I belong to Larry?”

I went into our bathroom and noticed my stuff had been moved. I shrugged at the interloper’s gall to use my razor, shaving cream and soap. I discarded the nearly new blade, shaved with a new blade, tossed the bar of soap in the trash. I opened a bar of the most expensive soap I had in my closet. I took a long hot shower and finished up with an almost-cold stream of sobering water.

As I showered, I replayed how I got to this point. The evening’s alcohol and smoke buzz were lifting, albeit slowly. I finished up and went back into our bedroom.

I needed time to think. I think best sitting in my chair, in my robe. I looked at the robe and remembered Larry sporting it. I sat naked in my bath towel instead.

Jessica always uses candles to set the mood for romance. I snooped around her side of the bed, found some incense and candles. When I was done, the room had a soft glow with a sandalwood aroma. I knew that there was no need for more sex tonight, but we both needed to be soothed.

The candles, etcetera said, “We’ll be okay, but both of us need to just chill.”

Looking around, I felt refreshed, in charge again. I picked up my Homestead robe, put it on and sat in my chair.

My wife rapped on the door and I said, “Come in, please.”

She appeared wearing the same white top and khakis, holding a bottle of expensive Champagne, two stem glasses in one hand and a joint in the other.

I asked, “Where’d the bubbly come from? I didn’t know we stocked that brand.”

Instead of answering, she came over to my seat, placed the bottle, flutes, lighter and joint on the table and knelt geisha-style in front of me.

She said, “Larry brought the wine for his lover, Jess. Remember, he gave me two bottles from the case.”

My wife’s demeanor changed, “Jess’s gone now, but your wife Jessica is seizing it for her husband to enjoy.”

Jessica whispered, “Jessica’s husband needs to relax: drink some of Larry’s wine, lick Larry’s cum from Jess’s pussy and celebrate your wife’s return.”

I sounded more incredulous than I really was, “You didn’t clean yourself up?”

“Nope!” She sounded as if it were a dare. She continued, “I sat there through the whole meal with Larry’s and my juices leaking out of me. It turned me on to know that you knew what we were doing. It was so hot!”

I challenged her, “Really?”

I told my wife, “The best thing we can do as a married couple is to reconnect. There is no need for more fucking tonight.”

Jessica took the rejection in stride. By the time she emerged from her bath, she realized I was right. Whether she realized Larry was wrong was a moot point. I could wait.

So, we got in bed, cuddled, held each other. I shushed Jessica twice, when she started to talk about Larry. Yes, we did drink the bubbly and smoke the joint. Then we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

A few nights later, Jessica wore the same outfit she’d donned for Larry.

‘On purpose?” I asked.

“Oh, no. Yes. Yes, for sure. I was thinking about you and Larry and where we would go from here.”

As my wife said this, she knelt in front of me while I sat in my chair.

The sight of my wife in that pure-white blouse and khaki pants was enticing. She made it obvious she was ready to have sex.

My wife offered, “Okay. I get it that you and I both were fucked out the other night. But can this be the time to reclaim me? God, I hope so. I need to know you still love me and want me. Fuck me, husband.”

I responded, “So. You want to make love to your husband again?”

“God, yes. I need you.”

“Pull down those khakis and let me see for myself.”

Jessica bit her lip, rotated a hundred eighty degrees, straightened up and pulled her drawers down. She was not wearing panties! She bent over, stuck her ass in the air and pushed her pussy up. It was damp. I knew she meant every word of her letter.

I looked at her asshole. It was intact. One issue I’d not addressed was whether he’d fucked her in the ass. I guessed not.

She was honest, “This is how I posed for Larry. His dick found my cunt and we fucked like a couple of minks.”

I reached out and caressed her ass. My wife rocked back. My hands spread her cheeks, revealing a pussy that was getting red.

“Kiss me,” she begged.

I drew her pussy to me. I licked her with my tongue, lapping up, lapping up several times. The primal sound she made was real. I know those guttural noises she makes when I do something she really likes.

When she straightened up again, she turned back to me and kissed me full on the lips. My tongue intertwined with hers. We kissed for a few moments and I realized she must be getting uncomfortable in that position.

She must have felt the same way, saying “Let’s get more comfortable. I could use a drink and a smoke, how about you?”

I moved to my side of the bed and sat up, against the pillows. She popped the cork on Larry’s other bottle, poured two glasses delivered them.

Taking the glass, I asked, “To what do we toast?”

Not flinching a moment, she said, “To Greg, my husband forever and his loving bride, Jessica.”

We sipped and she lit a joint, saying, “You take the first toke and pass it back to me. I need to relax.”

After we’d finished the first glass and the smoke, Jessica snuggled up against me.

Jessica asked, “Do you mind if I take off these clothes? I need to feel closer to you.”

I didn’t have to answer. She peeled off her white blouse and stepped out of her shorts. She shivered and reached for her bathrobe.

Again, she cuddled. We kissed and my hands naturally went for those beautiful tits. Every time I stroked one, she mewed and arched her back.

I felt a hand on my groin and she flipped my robe open to reveal a half-hard penis. I could work myself into an almost sitting position. I gave her a better angle for a good blow job.

I asked, “So, how did you feel when you realized we were going to let someone else into our bedroom?”

She looked me right in the eye, “I was hot. So hot. I just followed your fantasy. When you first talked about it, I was supposed to be sucking you and I could feel a new, big dick right at my cunt. I tingled but didn’t think we would ever do it.”

I pursued her account of what happened, asking “So you and Larry had some kind of plan in place. All you had to do was call him.”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

After every question, comment, nod and response, Jessica would stop sucking me for a moment, take my dick out of her mouth, pull on me then continue.

Her pauses were dramatic. Suck a bit, rub the underside of my hardening member, tickle my balls, squeeze my tit.

I led her on, “And then, you decided to make it a reality?”

Jessica looked off into the distance, took one more tug on my member and continued, “I could sense that you were ready, ready to watch me fuck someone and then reclaim me. I was right, wasn’t I?”

I spoke a half-truth, “Yeah. It wasn’t the script I had imagined, but we can’t pre-plan this kind of thing but so much.”

Jessica crawled up the bed and gave me a sloppy kiss, saying, “That is your pre-cum you’re eating now. I want you to clean me real good before you fuck me and reclaim me.”

She elevated herself to where her pussy was on the same level as my face. My wife took both of my hands and put them on her tits.

Jessica then ordered me, “Squeeze these, milk these, knead these. They belong to you. Enjoy them.”

I did. In the process, she put her cunt right at my face. I nuzzled her belly, licked across her tummy and inhaled her scent. She had two free hands that reached down and spread her pussy out. I leaned in and she leaned forward. My tongue hit her clit and she cried a primordial scream so loud it surprised me.

She was unintelligible, but I know I heard a, “Yesss. Yesh. Yesh!” through clenched teeth. She began to buck on me.

We surprised ourselves that I was rock-hard and she was ready to fuck.

I asked, “Are you ready to fuck?”

My wife answered, “I need to fuck!”

“Anybody?” I don’t know where that came from and cursed myself for such a question, given the circumstances.

She almost yelled, “Fuck, NO. Not anybody. Nobody but you. I need you deep inside me, now!”

Jessica rolled over onto her back and spread her legs. She was breathing heavy. Her cunt was glowing bright red. Her tits were at attention.

I mounted her and rubbed my dick up and down her wet slit. I used the tip of my dick to diddle her clit, spanking it, circling it with my mushroom head, then putting it right at the entrance to her love canal.

I held it there for an instant, then we moved together, me pushing down, her lifting her ass up. We mutually started fucking.

Her cunt was slick with her juices and my pre-cum. At that point, as far as my dick was concerned, that fuck-hole might have had six dicks in it, instead of just mine. It didn’t matter, because mine was in there now.

I buried myself into her, feeling her pubic bones meet mine. In that position, if partners are well-versed in what the other one likes, the dance is sensual, erotic, crammed with nerve endings craving excitement.

This married couple knows how to make a fucking into an act of love. We know it takes two people in love to reciprocate those movements.

My dick had a long conversation with Jessica’s pussy. It went where it wanted to go, to the right a bit, further that way, then back the other. Her cunt reciprocated and moved on me as it wished, enjoying the stuffing as if I were just a dildo, but much better.

We both uttered, “Ahh’s, Ooooh’s, Mmmph’s,” as we became one.

Without warning, my body went into a higher gear, pounding her.

I grabbed her ass with both hands and said, “Beat the cum out of me. Fuck the fuck out of me. NOW!”

I didn’t hold back. I was taking back what was mine: the best pussy I’d ever tasted or fucked.

Jessica followed orders, “Yes. Do it. Fuck me good. God, I can’t wait.”

Just as we started, fucking each other at the same time, we finished each other in a mind-warping climax.

I rolled off the bed and poured the last of the champagne. We sipped and talked in low tones, as if we might wake a baby. This was that last thirty percent the counselor talked about.

I chased away the image of Jess’s and Larry’s last thirty percent away. Actually, we did sleep like babies until way past sunrise the next day.

Postscript:

Two weeks later, while we were driving back home from an event, Jessica asked, “Greg, you never mentioned the gift Larry gave us. I was supposed to wear it that night, for you.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I forgot all about it. I don’t think I’d want to see you model it. Where did it go?”

She answered, “It is in my hope chest.”

I pulled over and parked in a shaded byway.

I asked, “You kept it? Why?”

My wife explained, “Larry called and wants his ‘Jess’ to wear it for him next weekend. He wants to take Jess to New York City, on a holiday for a few days. We’ll register as husband and wife. If you say ‘No’, the boarding passes will be worthless.”

I turned the top half of my body toward her. I considered what was at stake.

Jess went on, “Larry has a friend, a guy he went to college with. He gushed about me and he wants me to meet him in the Big Apple.”

I spoke calmly, “We are two weeks past that Saturday night. You claimed that you knew what I wanted, another man in our bed.”

She jumped in, “Yes. That is what you told me. I only complied with your wishes.”

I answered, “But that was just a fantasy, a game, a made-up story that got us hot. We’ve played that game with photographers, tourists, hikers on a trail, folks watching us from an open motel window. This was way different.”

Jessica looked confused, doubtful of my words.

She was getting testy, asking, “I asked you and you said you were ready?”

I surprised her by agreeing, “I said that, yes. It was the same game-way we’ve been doing for a while.”

My wife picked up on my near-confession and thought she had the comeback that would settle our discussion in her favor.

She defended the whole episode as half my fault, because I said “Yes.”

I finished with the salient question, “So why was that Saturday night different?”

She shrugged as if she had no clue.

I continued, “It was different because you had already glammed onto a would-be lover. The initial meeting at Costco might have been accidental, but you followed it up with parking lot chatter. Jess followed him to another location, a wine store. Then you had brunch with him. You exchanged emails and phone numbers. You shared intimate details of our love life. You wanted to fuck him and you used me and our fantasy talk about a third party as opportunity and justification.”

There was silence.

I summarized, “So you want my blessing for you to take off with Larry to New York, where you two will behave like a married couple, except that Larry’s old college friend will be there to do you as well?”

My wife ignored my objection, “I have the vacation time coming. You can reclaim me when I get back. I loved it when you did it last time. Could we work that out?”

I realized Larry had been right. Once Jess tasted another cock, she’d want another one again.

My final words were, “Go if you want to. When you get back, I suggest you find alternate quarters. The locks on my house will be changed. Maybe Larry can help you find a good divorce attorney.”

There was more silence.

I closed with, “Don’t count on Larry as a long-time lover or potential next husband. If he is willing to share your cunt so quickly, he is already tiring of you.”

I drove home in silence.