Wives with Benefits: Volume One (10 page)

“You like sleeping with another man’s wife?” I ask.

“Never thought I would. But I guess I do.”

“I can tell.”

“You should tell people — on your website, I mean. Your very own unique selling point.”

With that, I climb on board for another ride, and I think about the suggestion. Wade’s right — what I have with my husband is unusual. Maybe I don’t have to hide it from my clients. Maybe it could be something to attract a certain kind of client. 

It’s worth trying, I guess. 

Looking up at my bouncing tits as I ride him, Wade says: “If I was married, I’d want my wife to be like you. I don’t think I’d share you, though.”

I smile, knowing this is why my husband is so special. My hips continue to gyrate over him as I reach up behind my head to tie up my hair, knowing that this action pushes out my chest, empathizes the cleavage he’s so obviously fixated on.

“I wouldn’t look like this if my husband wasn’t sharing me. So you’d have to.”

What Your Husband Really Thinks

1

To start with, she thought I was kidding. That I was teasing her because she’d been pressing me to open up about my sexual fantasies ever since she’d read that article in Cosmopolitan about married couples who know nothing about each other’s actual turn-ons.

“No, tell me what you really fantasize about. Come on — we’ve been married five years, and you’ve never told me.”

“I just did, didn’t I?”

“Okay, be like that.”

Did Marissa open up to me about her fantasies? No. The deal seemed to be that I would tell her everything about what I thought about when I was horny, and once I broke the ice she might feel ready to tell me her sexual secrets.

The second time, she thought I was trying to trick her into revealing her fantasies before I revealed mine, which apparently wasn’t part of the deal.

The third time, she decided I was telling her the truth, but she also decided that in claiming that I fantasized about watching her sleep with another man, I was somehow trying to engineer a full swinging scenario where she would have to allow me to sleep with another woman.

I could insist all I liked, but that particular night she wasn’t taking any other explanations.

The time after that, as she once again asked me to open up about what was going on inside my head, sexually, I got almost angry, and finally demanded to know what she fantasized about. 

At first, she just blushed, said she didn’t fantasize about anything much. Then she said she always thought about me, about my big hard cock, about pleasing me. 

I couldn’t help but laugh about that. 

“Why are you so eager to hear what turns me on, when you won’t tell me?”

“I don’t know…”

“You’re afraid? I’m not going to tell anybody.”

Her blush seemed to intensify, and though it probably embarrassed her, it was actually very becoming on her pretty pale face with its frame of shoulder-length brown hair.

“I guess… sometimes I think about certain celebrities…”

“Is that right? And who in particular?”

“I don’t know… whoever I might have seen recently…”

Her blush continued. It wasn’t because I was fucking her slowly at the time, although I wonder if it made me subconsciously feel that it was, and therefore got me super hard inside her. If she hadn’t been talking about fantasizing about another man, I might have thought that was it.

“Like?”

I gave her a direct look, straight in her cool blue eyes, teasing her, silently accusing her of being a chicken — the Marty McFly School of Motivation.

“I don’t know… like that guy from the Aquaman movies.”

“Aquaman?”

“No, the other guy…”

“Aqualad?”

Her expression was tantamount to a full confession. I felt my cock pulsate inside her. “He’s like, half your age,” I pointed out.

Marissa smiled, rolled her eyes, said: “He’s twenty-two,” as though she’d done the research. “And he’s hot.”

“You think about him sometimes when we’re…”

“Sometimes…”

Her awkwardness was endearing, since it told me she was telling the truth. Had we been just dating, rather than married five years, I might have told her to shut the hell up about her secret crush, I would have been jealous even though I knew there was no chance in hell she’d ever meet the actor who played Aquaman’s sidekick.

Maybe I’d feel insecure every time Marissa so much as looked in the direction of a younger man. Or any man for that matter.

But now, secure in our relationship, I thought it was hot that she fantasized about another guy. It fit into my own strange fantasy.

“Okay, Mister, I’ve told you my embarrassing secret, so what’s yours? You gonna tell me what really gets you going when you’re not with your sweet wife?”

Laying between her shapely legs, I pushed inside her, and my cock was particularly hard. Could she sense it?

“Right now...” I said, and thought from her expression that she was beginning to suspect that I might be picturing my chosen fantasy right then, as I pushed into her like that. 

“Right now,” I tried again, “what gets me going is the thought of my sweet wife banging Aqualad.”

“Hey!”

She thought I was teasing her, still. Couldn’t accept that it was actually hot to think of her wrapped around the buff sun-kissed and gym-toned body of her secret crush, and that another man might crave her fine curves, her smooth porcelain skin, her pretty face with all those cute little freckles mottling her nose and cheeks. And that in gratifying himself, he would drive her completely crazy in bed while I watched everything from close by.

We wrestled. I let her get the upper hand. She slid over me, slipped me inside her, started to ride me cowgirl style.

“Okay, Mister,” she said, and from her tone I could tell she was going to attempt to tease me into backing down and revealing my real turn-on secrets. “So right now, you imagine I’m lying on that other guy? Zack Gilbert’s his name, by the way.”

“Sure,” I said.

She wiggled her hips, “And what would you be doing at this time? You’d be watching us? Or would we be alone?”

“I don’t know. Watching, I guess.”

“And you wouldn’t be an insane, jealous mess, watching another guy — a guy half your age — sliding his big, hard cock inside your wife?”

I don’t know, I guess it helped that she used word “cock”, something I can’t say I remember hearing coming from her lips before. I mean, she had a sexy voice anyway, I’d always thought that. But the fact she was describing something that really did get me going… well, it was the perfect storm.

My cock positively throbbed inside her, and she couldn’t fail to notice that.

It made her gasp. 

“Seriously?” she said. 

“I’ve always told you the truth about this,” I insisted.

A look of bemused wonderment came over her face, as though someone had been trying to explain to her that her recently-deceased great uncle had purchased a winning lottery ticket just before he’d passed away, and now technically it belonged to her — as did the tens of millions it represented.

Her nipples were so stiff, responding to my own hardness, little rocks with her areolae all pursed around them. She was fired up.

“So wait, you’d actually be happy to have me meet a guy like Zack Gilbert, bring him home and sleep with him right in front of you?”

Another little pulse or two from my hardness seemed proof enough, like the most sensitive of lie detectors. She was keeping completely still in order to read the measurements.

“And this is because if I sleep with Zack, I’ll have to let you sleep with whoever it is that haunts your dirty little dreams?” she said, testing me.

No movement from the manhood that time.

“Not at all,” I said, deadly serious. 

“You just want to watch me and him?”

A little throb there, clear enough. 

“I don’t get your fantasy,” she said, resuming her gentle rocking on my pole. She had that sexy little dimple she gets between her eyebrows when she thinks I’m nuts. “You want me to sleep with someone else… where’s the benefit for you?”

“Watching you. Even hearing about it afterwards.”

“And what, you wouldn’t be jealous at all?”

“Probably. But I guess… I guess I see that as part of the thrill.”

“You’re crazy, aren’t you? I married a crazy person.”

That was the moment it kind of sank in that this was a real fantasy. After that, she didn’t seem to refer to it for a while. I thought perhaps it had horrified her, that it had all been a little too much. It was just a fantasy, I had no intention of lobbying her, to make it real like all those couples I read about on the Internet forums. It was just a fantasy, something harmless I used from time to time to keep the fires burning when I needed them to.

That was until the night they showed the first Aquaman movie on TV, and Zack Gilbert took his shirt off in the opening ten minutes.  

“So are you thinking about him right now?”

Sitting in the opposite corner of the couch to me, she gave me a dark look. Half annoyed that this might turn into a lifetime of teasing her about her little thing for Aqualad, half trying to come up with a smart come-back.

“Maybe,” she said after a pause, as though her conventional thinking still led her to believe that I would be offended if she told me she was actually thinking about young Mr Gilbert.

“You’re thinking about how you might take him upstairs into the bedroom?”

A slight flush in her cheeks, and I felt my heart rate quicken.

“Maybe I am,” she declared. “He’s pretty hot, don’t you think?” 

I smiled, “It’s pretty hot that you’re so into him.”

“Look at those abs, I would definitely go for those abs,” she said, still under the impression she was taunting me. 

She was wearing a thin summer dress, but her bra should have kept her nipples hidden — it didn’t, they were pushing up like bullets. I felt myself tingling, thickening down below.

“But you’d get all jealous if a guy like that showed up at our front door,” she said, “or if I brought him home from the office?”

“Uh-uh, I’d be ecstatic.”

“Ha. And you’d just let me take him upstairs, strip off his clothes and suck on his big hard cock? Just like that?”

“I would,” I said in that completely-serious tone, the nuclear holocaust kind of serious tone.

There was a long moment where she looked at me, taking in that serious voice of mine. I noticed the rise and fall of her chest. Her breathing was deepening, she was actually getting turned on by this. 

“You’d want to watch me take that big cock in my mouth, right in front of you?”

“Absolutely.”

She took her time letting this all sink in, then she slowly crawled over to me, and placed her hand in my lap, feeling out the form of my erect manhood. 

“You’d want to see me taking it out like this,” she said, unfastening my fly, retrieving my stiff cock as I sat there on the couch. “Putting it… in my mouth…”

She sucked it into her mouth, and her eyes were directed at the TV, where the movie gods answered her prayers by putting Aqualad up on screen. 

2

She didn’t understand my number one sexual fantasy, but she did come to accept that I had it, that it was real. 

She had the biological proof from talking about it while I was inside her, of course, but it took another article in Cosmopolitan to dispel her concerns that I was either insane or some kind of Machiavellian genius trying to engineer a threesome with one of her girlfriends.

“It says voyeurism is usually near the top of the list of men’s fantasies… when he turns peeping tom to watch a woman undressing…” 

“Well then I guess the market for strippers isn’t going to fade any time soon.”

“No, wait: it says actually more frequent is the fantasy of watching his wife or girlfriend while she is making love to somebody else — a man or a woman…”

Reading out the saucy parts from her women’s magazines to me before we went to sleep was a fairly recent innovation in our marriage, but I wasn’t complaining if it set her mind at ease regarding my own personal depravity.

It helped her see that it was fairly safe as fantasies go, that she really was central to her husband’s dirty thoughts, that if there was any temptation to go and make that fantasy a reality, she would have to be very much involved.

It also helped her to take full advantage of knowing my particular little kink. 

She could tell me she’d been thinking about our friend Zack, and I’d be almost instantly hard. To start with, that would be about all it was, that initial hint that she’d been a naughty girl thinking about her crush again. 

A short-cut to getting her husband in the mood.