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A Secret Life

Tags: wife
The secret life of a shared wife
Some people think telling a story about a secret life is therapeutic for the story teller. That's not the case here, I just want to get my thoughts down so they are easier to remember years from now.

You can't be surprised to learn that when an author posts a story some Lush readers want to use the instant message feature on the site.

If that leads to a good kind of on-line chemistry I've found it's easy to explore sexy ideas that way, ideas I'd never share with real life friends. Sometimes the person I'm IM'ing with tells me they are looking at my photos on the Lush site and that gives me what my husband calls a whole body blush. Most women want to be looked at, that's why we dress up as we do. Or, on Lush, why some of us 'undress up' the way we do.

I like to talk with people who are about my age because we are more likely to develop a nice on-line chemistry. But sometimes. . .

B contacted me and told me he loved "All In?All In!" the first story I posted on Lush. He really liked the idea of a straight-laced university professor letting go like that and asked if it was a true story. Parts of it were true, I assured him, but told him I would not do anything like that near home. The one time it did happen was when I was visiting another campus.

B had fantasies about ideas like that and wanted to know what it was like from my point of view. He said it would add depth to his daydreams.

I learned he was just 31, 26 years younger than me but even with that difference there was a nice chemistry between us. I found out he was a successful technical guy, unmarried, into being fit and I could tell by the conversation there was a real intelligence working the other keyboard. Hey, my PhD is in psychology, intelligence assessments are part of what I do.

It had to happen -- he asked me if I ever even considered having an encounter with a 30 something year old man. I said sure but it was when I was younger too. That brought one of the few lol's he ever sent. He, like me, rarely used IM abbreviations.

One time when I wanted to tease him during a sexy exchange I told him about a fantasy my husband and I talked about. The back story is this. Grad students often want me to be their thesis advisor and I have to turn many of them down. Some get angry with me because it denies them an easier entry into my professional specialty. I told B that if ever I was having an encounter with a younger man I would ask him to remember a woman like me who had somehow wronged him. I would want him to get angry remembering what she did and the guy should use me as a surrogate. I'd want him to take his sexual revenge on me. It wouldn't be rape, but close to it -- a kind of pseudo rape. I told B it really would be a big turn on for me because submitting to that would be a way for me to make up for the pain I caused others.

Oh, B liked that idea a lot.

By the way, don't be saying to yourself 'This shrink should be seeing a psychologist!" It was just a fantasy chat. And yes, I know my husband and I have some serious perversions.

B and I instant messaged about other erotic ideas too. Did I, he wondered, have any prostitute fantasies? I told him sometimes and that I may write a story about that. He wanted to know if my being a 'hot wife' was something I might do again. "If the circumstances were right my husband and I think I should," I told him. That was part teasing and part true.

He told me he would be really turned on if I would look at his web cam. I did. B is a handsome younger man. He said since he was looking at my Lush photos he would like me to see him nude too. I saw a guy who was clearly into fitness, with a lean swimmer's body. I confess, I like lean!

I don't want to make too much of this, but it was an ego boost for me to see he was hard just from chatting with me.

He reminded me it wasn't just the chat, he was he was looking at the 'Full Monty' photo I posted on Lush, too. "I can pretend it's you, even if I think it isn't," he typed.

Where did he get the idea the photos weren't of me? I still remember how it felt to pose for those photos and how turned on my husband and I were when we posted them on Lush.

B insisted those were not the photographs of a woman in her mid 50s. I guess in a way that was something of a compliment to have him think they were of a younger woman.

"Prove it!" he demanded. "Prove those are of you."

People who IM with me know I am very protective, even phobic, about keeping my real life identity secret. These chats are a wonderful diversion from my real life but I would not want my on-line persona to be known in my real world. It would affect my ability to continue my academic research so I told him proof was impossible. He could believe it was me, or not.

That wasn't good enough for him. "I am as worried about keeping my ID private as you are but you saw my webcam. Why can't I see yours?"

I explained, but not to his satisfaction.

Our chats covered non erotic topics too. We began talking about a local no-kill animal shelter I was interested in helping.

He tried to convert that into a 'prove the pictures are you' thing. "How about you show me yourself on webcam, and if you prove that's really you in the photos I'll send the shelter 1,000" he wrote. "It would be erotica for benefit of animals." Talk about a prostitute fantasy! I explored the idea. "How could you do that -- how could I be sure you would make a donation anyhow?" I asked.

It took him a little while, but then he wrote back. "This is just to prove I'm serious about this. Call your shelter and ask them if they just got a donation from an unnamed donor in the amount of 277.05." How is that for a clever use of the numbers in my screen name? "If you agree to go on web cam, I'll make another one of 732.95 and you can verify it before you turn on the camera."

"Let me ask my husband about this," I said. A thousand dollars could cover the out-of-pocket expenses at the shelter for a couple of weeks. It didn't take long for me to persuade my husband the pluses outweighed the minuses. More than that, husband love the idea of me being on display to another guy again, even if not in person. After all, he's the guy who wanted me to be a once-in-a-while hot wife in the first place.

So, on a Saturday morning my husband was holding a web cam when I went on line.

We had agreed on the ground rules. I was wearing a robe and sitting on our bed with a laptop on my lap. The camera was connected to both the computer and our bedroom TV so I could see what was being sent. It showed me from the neck down. B and I connected with IM and he got my web cam images.

"You seem to be ready," he typed, "and if you check with the shelter they will tell you they just got a deposit for 800. So show me."

"I don't have to check with them, I trust you," I typed back.

Husband and I planned this. He panned the camera to the floor, not showing me.

I walked into the camera's field of view and he panned upward until it showed me from the neck down to the floor. I untied the robe's sash, turned my back to the camera and let it fall open, then shrugged it off. Husband tracked me from the neck down as got on the bed, then panned toward my feet as I lay back. I struck that same near-leg-up pose you can see on the Lush site and he panned the camera along my body to my neck, then down again. My husband moved closer, almost over me and I rolled onto my back into that second pose, the one we call the 'Full Monty'. I felt myself blush as he panned from my feet up. The TV showed legs, thighs, a triangle of pubic hair, then breasts, and my face. The camera moved past my head to my arms, stretched out over my head and then there was a kind of pull away, it captured all of me. It couldn't have taken more than a few minutes.

With the camera off I got to the laptop and typed "Satisfied?"

His own web cam was on, and he showed me just how satisfied he was.

The cameras went dark, the connection was broken, and my husband by then was undressed too and we took advantage of how sexy we were feeling.

Well into that session my husband whispered "You know what's coming next, don't you?"

"I think you are," I said. I thought it was a clever play on words even if we spelling coming differently.

"That too," he whispered, "but you know he's going he's going to try to let get you to let him fuck you."

I thought so too, but the time for talking was over and the time for sex and our own orgasms had arrived.

My chats with B continued. There was no more joking about the pictures not being me, he led the conversation off in other directions. That was okay with me, I enjoy talking about fantasies.

"I know your husband likes the idea of you being a hot wife once in a while. Will that always happen when you are away on business or vacation?"

I told him we thought so.

"That one time you played, your husband wasn't there, was he?"

He was not.

"I bet he'd like to watch you with another guy, or make it a mfm," B wrote.

I think most husbands who like the idea of sharing their wife would like that and mine is not an exception. It's been pillow talk for a long time.

"Would it be with a random guy you found on vacation?"

I told him we thought in terms of a stranger we might have met on line. It would be someone that we pre-screened before we met him. It would not be from a site for really sexually active people like Adult Friend Finder, but maybe from a dating site. I liked teasing B so I added "Maybe it would be someone we met on Lush."

My husband says I have a black belt in tease.

To keep things real I reminded B that even in pillow/fantasy talk we worried about things like sexually transmitted diseases.

"Safe sex would solve that," he wrote. I defeated that argument with a question. "If you knew your partner had a STD would you have sex with her even if you used a condom?"

I was happy to know he liked to keep his fantasies based on the possible because he said "No."

B asked if our ongoing chat was a kind of screening. I told him he was a sexy chat partner, and I wouldn't stay connected if I didn't like him.

"But for a real life meeting?" he asked.

"You remain a lot younger than me," I reminded him.

"Somewhat younger," he countered, " but with a lot of anger towards some older women, including one I chat with who likes to tease me. If we ever met, you'd pay dearly."

"What would you do?" I asked.

"With your husband's help, use you hard and long. I think you're healthy, I'd fuck you bare back. It would be lust making not love making."

He did know how to press some of my hot buttons, didn't he?

He was as good at teasing as I was. He knew I archived my chats so my husband could read them, too.

"You know, you might want to consider him," my husband said. "You already know he is smart and fit and he knows about turning you on." My husband was the beneficiary of me being turned on. He knew it, I knew it, and so did B.

I reminded him when I was 'naughty' for the first time he wasn't there. "Would you really want to get involved with another man playing with me? Would you really do some of the things we talked about?"

You can guess at his answer.

My work and B's kept us both busy so our chats became less frequent. They were still hot, still sexy, but went from nearly every night to only a couple times a week.

My husband owns a high tech company whose products serve the bio-tech market. He usually attends the Eastern Analytical Conference -- that's in Summerset NJ, just across the Hudson from New York -- to meet with customers. I like to join him because it's a mini vacation for me and getting into New York an evening of theater is a special treat.

That explains why we were in Summerset NJ last November. Back in our hotel room the first night we started the usual sexy pillow talk.

I was by then nude.

My husband told me to imagine he arranged for someone to meet us. At the moment I was under a sheet on the bed, and he insisted I imagine that someone was in the room. He told me I had to pull away the sheet so the guy could see me and then use me. Would I, he wanted to know, do that?

We like to play sexy games, so of course I pulled the sheet away. There were more fireworks than usual!

The second night he decided we should stay in New Jersey and have a relaxing evening. There was a nice dinner, and then we went to the lounge in our hotel where there was live music and dancing.

I love to dance and I could tell I was dancing with a very turned on husband. "Are you feeling sexy?" he wanted to know.

I was.

When we got back to our table he took out his cell phone. "So here's the deal," he said. "If you're ready to be a real hot wife again press the 7 key. When someone answers, say 'Yes'. I dare you."

"You're joking," I said. I did not believe he would have set anything up without using it to make our pillow talk hotter.

"Press 7 and see."

I did, and heard the phone send out 11 digits, there was one ring and then the connection was made. Not a sound came out of the speaker. "Say 'yes', my husband said.

I did.

"Now we wait," he told me. In less than 5 minutes he stood up - someone approached our table from behind me. I turned in time to see him shake hands with B!

B reached for my hand, pulled me to my feet, and said "Your husband told me if I sent 3000 to your shelter I could have you for three hours. I'm angry at you for all of the teasing, and you're mine, starting now."

My husband nodded his head in agreement. "For tonight, you're a 3K hooker for the benefit of your shelter."

I didn't know what to do, but my husband did. He took my The trip to the room is still a blur in my mind. Once we were there my husband told B that since I was a three thousand dollar a night prostitute he could tell me what he wanted me to do.

I wish I could really understand why being called a call girl was a turn on. Maybe it was because of all of the fantasies we have had, maybe it had to do with me having so little control over what was happening, maybe. . .

My husband was playing the role of a pimp. "Tina, I told B you were going to start by posing for him again, but this time with him here, not watching on a web cam. Go to the bathroom and put on your robe."

When I came out both men were stipped to their briefs -- both were wearing boxers, and the crotches in each case was tented. Our bed had its cover and blankets removed, the bed had become a platform, a stage, a kind of altar.

My husband took my hand and led me to its side, took me in his arms and kissed me, then pushed the robe from my shoulders. I was naked in front of two men!

B watched as my husband pulled me onto the bed, positioned me on my back, kissed me again, then sat on the far side of the bed and held my hands above my head.

I felt so helpless, and God, so turned on. B moved onto the bed, beside me, leaned over me, turned my head away from him and licked at, nibbled at, my ear. "Your husband told me this turns you on," he whispered, and he was right. It was electric.

If it was electric the voltage went up when he kissed at my neck.

And higher still when he nipped at my nipples.

I was being held in place, not that I objected, as his tongue found its way lower to my navel, and lower still.

B lifted his head from his task and looked at my husband. "You're right, she's going to be worth every penny."

He stood beside the bed and made a demand. "Look at me!"

I did.

He pushed his boxers off, now he was nude, and erect. He reached toward my knees, pushing at one, pulling at the other and then got on the bed between my legs. He moved onto the bed, onto me, into that very dominant position, suspended over a woman spread out under him.

My husband often said during our fantasies that he would have a real dilemma if he ever shared me. He said he knew he would have me nude on my back and he would be holding my arms above my head while my 'date' moved between my legs. The dilemma, he said, is he didn't know if he would rather watch that first penetration, or kiss me while it happened so he could feel my reaction through my kiss.

Now we know the answer. He kissed me.

He didn't see the first penetration, but he did watch the first withdrawal and how wet B's cock was. And how bare it was.

"The bitch's name was Martha," B said as he rammed into me. "She was the personnel manager at the first place I worked. I wanted to do this to her, but you'll do."

God, I loved the feelings, loved being on my back, B between my legs, my husband holding my arms so I felt helpless. It was this woman's rape fantasy coming true.

B leaned down. "Kiss me, kiss me like you want me to fuck you harder," he demanded.

I did, and he kissed back, enough and open mouthed enough to actually hurt me a little bit. "But you like a little pain, don't you?" It wasn't really a question as much as it was a statement.

Somehow I got rolled over, somehow he was taking me from behind, and I looked up to see my husband moving closer, his own erection targeting my mouth. For a second I thought mfm, but that degraded into an "mmmm", as I took him in, my own movements controlled by the way B was ramming into me. This husband was allowing me, even demanding, that I act out being as slutty as in our darkest fantasy. I felt B's mouth on my shoulder, felt his teeth on my skin. He bit me, hard! That sudden pain triggered my first orgasm of the night.

And his, too. There were those sexy changes in the way he moved as he emptied himself into me.

I slept that night between two men, cuddled against my husband. We were wakened once by B, behind me, reaching around me, fondling me. He pulled on my hip and rolled me onto my back. It's been a long time since I had sex at 3:30 AM. "This time I want to feel your reaction when I push into you," he said, as he moved over me. It was an open mouth kiss, and he could feel me gasp as his cock pressed against me, then opened me, and entered me.

He proved something he claimed to be able to do in our IM chats -- ejaculate into his woman more than once in an evening.

I showered with two men that morning and not once had to move because they carefully washed me and dried me. I needed the shower. I think B took me three times -- in the evening, in the middle of the night, and again before we went into the shower and two of those times my husband did, too.

B took care patting down my shoulder, the bruise he left was vivid.

I still don't understand how I was able to go through the exhibits at the conference the next day, hand in hand with my husband, acting normal. I couldn't wear a bra, the bruise on my shoulder hurt too much to cover it with a strap. Didn't everyone know it was there?

The bruise healed, but its memory is still with me. And sometimes my husband, behind me, bites me, not quite as hard, in the same place, as a reminder.

And that is how I became a hot wife for this husband the second time.

It won't be a lifestyle, but we think there will be a third time. You see, I've been chatting with this man, tall, very dark, and very handsome who lives in Charleston, South Carolina, and I expect to be visiting the Medical University of South Carolina there in a few months, just about the time he needs a date for a formal ball. He wants an attractive white woman on his arm to show off to his friends, and I have this lovely gown...

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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