Not Knowing

I had an incredibly hard day at work on that day. It wasn't the work itself. That was mundane and repetitive as always. It was more my mind racing, my heart pounding, my body trembling and a constant, burning, almost desperate excitement that consumed me all day. I lost count of how many trips to the bathroom I had made, drying myself off as the excitement got too much for me. I even had to go out at lunchtime and buy a pack of fresh panties, five pairs, and by 3pm, I only had two pairs left. The others were all soaked through and had to be disposed of. So I sat at my desk, thighs clamped together, squirming, shifting constantly in my seat as my body rebelled against any notion of control. What had me in such a state of permanent and wild arousal? I will tell you.

About a month ago I had to send out a few emails from home. My laptop was dead and I was feeling lazy. I used Jack's computer, knowing he wouldn't mind. I sent off my emails and that was that. Except I happened to click on the recent documents tab and was intrigued at what I saw. He had movies, documents, pictures, all with a single running theme. I was astounded and mildly disgusted at what I saw.

I watched a short movie with the imaginative title "Amateur Wife Gangbanged By Blacks." It was a little short on plot, I thought. Another was called "White Wife Gangbang As Hubby Watches." The plot was a little thin on that one too. I ignored the other videos in there. There was a theme to them. I found a document called "My Wife's Wild Night Out" and I read it. It told the tale of a sweet and loving wife basically having sex with what seemed to be the whole damn world. I snorted in disgust, trying to ignore the growing glow in my panties. Another tale, My Friends and My Wife, was better written with very descriptive prose. I read that one with my hand slipping inside my panties. I admit it, it turned me on.

"What are you...oh God! I can explain!" I jumped, my hand leaving my pussy with more than a little reluctance. Had he seen what I was doing? I didn't know. I looked up to see a shocked, guilty looking husband staring at me. I almost laughed at the little boy look on his face.

"I needed to send some emails," I said more calmly than I felt. "All done now. Interesting reading material."

He blushed. Bless him, he actually blushed. "I can...I..." he stammered. "It's just...it's research!"

This time I did laugh. Jack, my darling husband, is an electrician, He rewires houses for a living. Research? Yeah right.

"For a friend!" he added, lamely.

"Yeah, and I am the Queen of Sheba!" I laughed. "So...you get off on this stuff?" I cocked an eyebrow at him. I wasn't really mad. I know guys use porn and I am ok with it. It's natural. "Some of them are well written. I liked the one where he loses a bet with his friend and his wife is the prize. Totally unrealistic," I added. "but the sex scenes are hot."

He looked surprised. Relieved but surprised.

"You liked that one?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Just don't go making any bets with your friends!"

We both laughed then, reducing the tension. I stood up and beckoned him over. He came, slowly and sat down. I took my place on his lap and kissed him. "It's ok," I soothed. "I don't mind. It's just an interesting choice. Do you think of me like that? Do you imagine me with other men?"

"No!" he answered a little too quickly. "I never think of you like that. It's just...you know...it's...I don't know what it is. Something about it is exciting. Sorry."

"Good," I said firmly. "Because that is never going to happen. I know what you mean though, about it being exciting. It's so... oh what's the word?... so taboo." I took a chance. "In fact, if you hadn't walked in on me, I think I was heading for a major orgasm."

The chance paid off. He tensed as I said that. Another part of him tensed a little more. I wriggled on his lap, feeling that particular tension pressing into me.

"Let's read one together?" I suggested, giving him a sly little smile. He swallowed nervously, and clicked on one I hadn't seen. It was the same theme as the others, basically, wife gets fucked, husband jerks off. Again, though, it was very well written. We had both just reached the first sex scene, the wife on all fours, the handsome stranger dropping his shorts in front of her, when I had a very naughty idea.

"Read it to me," I suggested.

A little hesitantly, Jack started to read. I closed my eyes, picturing the scene he described, a smile on my lips. I reached under me, my fingers closing around his cock, straining against his pants. He stopped reading.

"Keep going," I whispered, moving from his lap and onto my knees. He continued to read, his voice becoming more than a little hoarse as I slowly undid his pants. My husbands cock sprang out at me and I giggled at that. Jack has a lovely cock. It's 7 inches long, a lovely thickness when excited and has a curve to it that fits so wonderfully inside me. Yeah, I know. People talk about 12 inch wonders but between you and me, that scares the crap out of me. Seven is heaven in my book. I wrapped my fingers around the hard shaft, stroking slowly as he tried to read the story.

"I w-watched in silence as Brenda parted her lips, leaning down to the stranger in our hotel room..." He paused, closing his eyes as I started to stroke him faster. I squeezed his throbbing cock, urging him to continue. "Ta...taking him into her eager mouth...oh God!"

He had stopped again as my mouth engulfed his hardness, inching down along his length, taking him as deep as I can. He loves it when I do that. I swear, I could demand the world when his cock is completely buried in my mouth and Jack would do his utmost to get it for me. Thats real power!

When my nose pressed against him, I stopped, holding him there a moment before pulling back, dragging my lips around the shaft until he left my mouth. "You've stopped again," I gently admonished him. He continued to read, pausing to gasp as I lunged back down, taking his whole cock in one sudden movement. He rallied and continued to read. I began to suck, softly at first, as I pulled back, his cock gliding over my tongue, until he left my mouth again. This time, I extended my tongue, swirling it over the soft , velvet head, tracing it up and down his length before taking him back into MY eager mouth. He moaned, he groaned, he gamely tried to keep reading. To tell the truth, I had stopped listening at this point anyway. I let him slip from my lips, my fingers wrapping around his hardness again. I reached up, took hold of the mouse and shut the page down. I looked up at him, my eyes half closed with desire.

"Fuck me!" I panted. "Oh God, Jack. Please fuck me now!"

He didn't need asking again. He leaped to his feet, yanked my skirt up and my panties down, pushed me over his chair and he did exactly what I wanted, what I needed. He fucked me right there and then. He fucked me hard, he fucked me fast and I was in pure heaven. He fucked me with an urgency that I shared, my hips rocking in time with his thrusts and I felt him tense and swell inside me. I cried out as he fired his seed deep into me. He cried out with me and we collapsed on the chair together, breathless, hot and so very satisfied.

"You don't mind?" he asked me eventually. I murmured merrily, still feeling a very definite glow.

"If you fuck me like that, darling" I almost purred. "I don't mind one little bit."

He held me a little tighter, knowing how much I absolutely love being held after sex. For me, that's as good as the sex itself. The shared intimacy, the bonds of love, the closeness can be even better sometimes. Jack held me perfectly, loving me as much as I loved him. I felt safe, warm, happy. Feeling his cum inside me added a blissful touch to it.

"But don't go getting any ideas." I stretched languidly against him, feeling his body so reassuringly close to mine. "I am not Brenda!"

He laughed and squeezed me playfully. "No," He conceded. "You are my Karen. So much hotter than Brenda."

We moved to the bedroom and made love. We never fuck in our bed; we make love and it is wonderful. After almost six years of marriage, my husband still made me feel like he did the very first time he was inside me. In simple terms, he made me feel wanted, desired and above all, loved.

And the way I responded to his touch, I am sure I made him feel the same way.

For the next few nights, I got home from work, we had dinner and then crowded around his computer, searching for more stories. I wasn't interested in the videos, much to his chagrin. It's not hard to explain but I am not sure he ever got it. A video lays it all out for you in rather gory detail. I think the description of sex is so much more thrilling than the sight of it. I want to engage my imagination, my thoughts, not simply watch it unfold before me. I guess people just need different things. For me, it was mostly internal so the stories worked so much better.

Jack got his revenge one night. It was a story of a wanton wife being passed around by a bunch of students, each carrying out a more depraved act upon her. This time, Jack insisted I read to him. I was so excited when he slipped down between my legs, his tongue driving me totally wild until I practically leaped on him. One thing my Jack REALLY knows how to do is take me over the edge with that tongue. Three orgasms later, I was a puddle in his arms, glowing happily, smiling merrily and just about as content as could be.

"Do you imagine yourself as the wife in the story?" Jack asked, nonchalantly stroking my arm.

"Sometimes," I answered without thinking, hurriedly adding. "Just sometimes but it's only in my mind. I would never do anything like that. I couldn't. It's all very exciting and wild but, you know, it's just not me. I am yours and yours alone, my darling."

The truth is, I did sometimes imagine me as the heroine of the story and it excited me beyond belief. I was not lying though. Imagining is one thing, doing is another thing entirely. The thing that struck me most about these tales was that there was no aftermath, no possibility of recriminations or regrets. It seemed to me that once the excitement of the situation wore off, a husband and wife could have a really hard time continuing in their marriage. Then again, this was fiction, this was fantasy.

"You could do it if you wanted to." Jack's voice was level, carefully measured; a question without being a question.

I was shocked. Had my husband just asked me to have sex with other men? It seemed so. I jumped up, angry.

"No way!" I retorted. "I do NOT want to. I am shocked you would even suggest such a thing!"

The moment was over and I bundled up my clothes, virtually running to the bathroom and shutting the door firmly behind me. That's when I realised the wetness I felt in my recently filled pussy was so much more than Jack's seed filling me. I was so aroused, so incredibly wet, that I was almost flowing with the excitement. I shook my head and set about cleaning myself up. I looked up as the door opened seeing Jack looking very sheepish.

"Sorry love" he held out his hand to me and I took it. "I didn't mean to upset you." I gave him a reassuring smile and held out my hand to him while strange thoughts whirled dangerously in my mind.

And so it went on. We were into a new routine, sharing stories, reading them together. We didn't make love every time. We didn't even fuck every time. We just enjoyed our moments living in a fantasy world. Then one night, we found a story that affected us both. It was a simple enough tale, I suppose. The wife had no idea who was fucking her, one after another, the husband watching, encouraging her. There was something about this story that really appealed to me. It was the thrill of not knowing, I think. It wasn't so much the sex, which was written well enough, but the whole situation that really got to me.

I lost control early on in that story and I jumped up on Jack's lap, took his cock in my hand and guided it to my dripping, soaked pussy. I rode him so hard, bouncing up and down on his cock, screaming obscenities until I had one of the most powerful orgasms ever. When Jack came, grunting with the power of it, jet after jet of hot cum shot into me, forcing a second orgasm to rocket through my already spent body. I simply collapsed against him, breathless.

He stroked his hands along my thighs and I almost jumped, I was so sensitive.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. I raised my head, looking into his eyes.

"Wow!" I agreed wholeheartedly.

"I guess you liked that story a little too much." Jack smiled. "Were you imagining it was you this time?"

I shifted a little uncomfortably and slowly nodded. My emotions were running high after such intense and wild sex. I get like that sometimes. I have even been known to cry after really intense sex. The first time that happened, Jack was so worried. I tried to explain it to him and I think he got it. Actually, I know he got it, he all but punches the air in triumph if I cry after sex. Men!

I nodded and probably looked a little wretched. Jack held me a little tighter.

"What's wrong?" He asked, a concerned look on his handsome face. I felt a swell of love for my man and a tear rose in my eye.

"I just feel like..." I began. I paused, swallowing hard. "Don't get angry at me. I just feel like that is something I could do. All of the other stories, with the wife screwing her husband's friends, her husband's boss, work colleagues, all of that, I could never do any of that. That would be too much like cheating on you. I know how stupid that sounds. The whole thing is stupid. But that... not knowing who it was... that feels different, you know? It feels like it wouldn't be cheating, somehow." I looked at him, earnestly.

He reached up, wiping the tear from my cheek.

"Karen," he said softly. "Why would I be angry? I fantasize about it too. I imagine seeing you with other men and it is so exciting to me. I know I shouldn't but I do. If anyone should be sorry here, it's me. It's like I turn you into a porn star in my head and you are worth so much more than that. And yes, I get your point about that story, the whole not knowing thing. I don't agree that it would be cheating if I knew about it and was there to see it but I definitely see how you not knowing who it is would somehow seem, I don't know if this is the right word, easier."

I looked at him slightly wide eyed. For Jack, that was a long speech. I could also tell he had put a lot of thought into the matter. I sat up, shifting on his lap, his cock still buried inside me. I also very keenly noticed that he had not softened.

"Is this something you want me to do?" I asked. "Is it something you would be ok with? Seeing your wife fucked by another man?" I felt a twitch inside me. I already knew the idea turned him on, now I was feeling the evidence.

"No." He said most definitely. I actually felt let down. Crazy, isnt it? My arousal, my excitement, reduced when he said no. "Not another man. Other men."

I trembled at that, revealing my own desire to him.

"Here is how I see it. I may be wrong." He stroked my arms, his strong, slightly rough hands moving up and down my sensitive skin. "If you have sex with another man, you might develop feelings for him. You could come to "like" him very much. It could so easily turn into an affair and that would be too hard to cope with."

I nodded. There was a sort of twisted logic in there.

"But other men," he went on. "A few men, all fucking you. There is still the risk you could fall for one of them, or more, but I think that risk is much lower. Plus, of course, I would be there, watching. I would be there to protect you from them and also to protect you from yourself. If I saw even a hint of that happening, I would pull the plug, no matter what."

"You have really thought about this," I said, a gently admonishing tone in my voice.

"Yes, I have," Jack nodded. "I have thought about it a lot. I have seen a lot of the problems you have seen, I am sure, but this answers so many of them. I am also sure there are problems we haven't thought of. Do you love me?"

The question threw me, coming so suddenly.

"Of course I love you!" I exclaimed. "How could you doubt it?"

Jack smiled reassuringly, squeezing me a little tighter. I felt his cock ramrod hard inside me, occasionally pulsing. His hands moved to my hips, lifting me and lowering me back down. I closed my eyes.

"I never doubted it for a second. I never will. And I hope you know just how much I love you." He moved me a little faster, eventually letting go of my hips, hands gliding up to my breasts. I moved unaided now, gently rising and falling on his hardness; his hardness that had remained within me for the entire conversation, his seed still filling me. It felt so erotic.

"Do you want to do it?" he whispered into my ear.

" I AM doing it," I breathed.

Jack laughed, his body rippling, his cock rippling inside me.

"Do you want to act out the story?" he spoke more seriously. I looked into his eyes. I nodded.

"Yes."

Jack moved me to the floor. Jack fucked me hard.

I lay awake most of that night, thinking about what I had said to my husband. I had told him I wanted to have sex with a group of men. It was a miracle to me that he was still there, sleeping beside me. How can anyone accept something like that and snore so loudly?

And he had said he wanted me to do it! That was as much a shock to me as my own desire. Oh, I know he watched the videos and read the stories but to actually want to turn the fantasy into a reality? I was angry at him at that moment. Or was I angry at myself? Then my thoughts turned to the event itself. I imagined what it would be like, the way it would make me feel and I grew instantly moist at the thoughts rushing through my mind. I eventually drifted into a troubled sleep.

I woke in the morning, finding an empty bed. I looked at the clock and moaned to see the time. I should have been up an hour ago. I listened, hearing Jack moving around downstairs and I climbed out of bed. I caught my reflection in the mirror and stood still, looking at myself. I haven't really described myself, have I? Well, I am nothing special. I am certainly not beautiful and I most definitely do not have a model figure. I know we are always our own worst critics but it's better to be honest. I am not ugly. I suppose I am pretty in my own unique way. My nose is too big, my eyes are too small, my lips are too thin. Worst critic, right?

There are some positives. I am not fat, I am not thin. I am just, you know, average. I was athletic in my youth, about a century and a half ago, and my body still retained some of the definition I once had but it was mostly all heading inevitably south. My boobs are not bad, still reasonably firm but trust me on this, the only bra I am going to bust out of is a trainer. Of course, Jack insists more than a mouthful is wasted. Isn't he sensitive? I turned to look at my ass. I know it was still quite firm and rounded but to me, it was heading towards saggy and dimpled. Jack walked in the room, fully dressed and ready for work, seeing me check out my own ass. He just grinned.

"Looks like I am going to be late today," he pushed me gently towards the bed.

"Damn traffic," I sighed opening myself fully to him.

We lay there afterwards, Jack holding me the way he knows I love to be held.

"What if nobody wants to do it?" I asked, apropos of nothing. Somehow, he knew what I meant. We hadn't discussed it so far that morning but it was so clearly on both our minds.

"Why wouldn't they?" he turned my face to his.

"Well," I murmured. "I am nothing special and I am getting old. How do you know anyone would even want to fuck me?" I looked up at his smiling face. He slapped my behind playfully.