The New World

The reaction to my first two stories has been either vitriolic or sympathetic, depending on your own personal bent in the matter. I never thought it would get this kind of reaction. So it made me think a little more about explanations. First of all, it happened to me, so I'm not going to apologize for the decisions I made. As another famous author said, "I did the best I could with what I knew at the time. When I knew better, I did better." And keep in mind that I filled in details she couldn't remember. So she may not have been thinking those things at all. There are so many questions in my own mind about the 33 years we were married. I've had to fill in a lot of blanks myself. Yes, we are divorced now, but why did I stay in that kind of environment for that long? For one, it wasn't always bad. There were some very good times, too. Special moments we shared together. Like the three videos in "33 Years of Sex with Sandi." Second, 33 years is a long time to just cut loose and walk away from, without trying everything you can think of to make it work.. It is for me, anyway. A friend of mine has a habit of asking, when a tough situation comes up, "Is this the hill you want to die on?" There aren't that many for me, but this was one. I took her back after her affair, learning to bury the betrayal feelings over the year. Third was the kids. It's easy to make suggestions and judgements with someone else's life. And, granted, I'm probable laying it on a little thick about her hard heart because I need her to be that bad in my mind. Maybe a little self-pity there too. But, as a writer, I'm glad you feel something – anything. Isn't that what we're trying for?

I will say that this next story is completely fictional. We never did this. But sometimes I wonder if this would've made her happy. If this is what she wanted all along. Is it true – "once a cheater, always a cheater?" It just takes the first two stories to their logical terminus. I'm just wondering out loud in this story about what would've happened if the situation had come to this point, and wondering what she would've done. It leads to some great stories in the future.

"Do you need other men, Sandi?"

The question was sincere. The look on his face was not one of anger, or hurt, or accusation. It was an honest question looking for an honest answer. You could see her brain working, trying to decide how to answer. He'd never asked a question with so much potential – destructive and spectacular. To her it wasn't the simple "yes" or "no" answer it seemed on the surface. You'd think it would be. But either answer would proliferate a dozen more questions she really didn't feel comfortable answering.

It wasn't that she didn't know her answer either, she had decided years ago that she did need them. What she couldn't read from his face was whether he really wanted the truth or a lie, like she had always told him. Could he handle the truth now? What would happen if he couldn't? At the same time all these thoughts were swirling around in her head, a little seed thought nudged its way to the front of her consciousness.

"What if he's serious? What if I answer 'yes' and he says 'OK.' Then what?"

It was more that she could hope for.

She had never even imagined he would agree to legitimize something she had been hiding for so long. Could it be? No more sneaking around, covering phone calls, no more lies. She could tell by the look on his face that this time was different than all the other times he had raised the question. All those had ended with her lying – again. He would get that look on his face that said he really didn't believe her, resigned to the fact that he had no proof to the contrary.

She perceived that this was a pivotal moment in their relationship. Could she hope beyond hope he was asking with the intention of giving it to her? Part of her brain cried out, "You'll never get another chance like this, TAKE IT!" Another part screamed, "It could destroy your marriage, leaving you with nothing. It's too good to be true."

In the end it wasn't her brain that made the decision for her. As she listened to the voices in her head she could feel the moisture gathering between her legs. She squeezed her thighs tighter, feeling that most desirable tickle beginning. Her mind made up, she blurted out the words, "Yes, David. I need them." Then she held her breath waiting for his next words. His expression hadn't changed at all. Then his eyes dropped to the floor in defeat and abject rejection. She didn't know what to say.

She knew at that moment that comfort was impossible, at least not from her. What was she supposed to say? "Your dick doesn't do it for me. It never has." As painful as that would be, it was the truth. Well, at least a PART of the truth. The truth was that she would never feel the rush of an illicit affair with its taboo, dangerous aspects from him. She couldn't tell him that. But, it was out there now. She couldn't take it back. And from the look on his face, he already knew. He reasoned there would be no more pretending on her part, no more faking enjoyment he couldn't provide.

"It's been this way our whole marriage, hasn't it?

She decided to stick with the honesty theme. "No," she said softly "not until I had my first one besides you. Then, yes."

"Why didn't you ever say something?"

"What could you have done? You are who are."

"There are things that can be done."

"And all of them would have cost more money that we had. It was out of the question. We had kids, a car, a mortgage."

"This is not my fault," he said.

"It's nobody's fault. It just is."

"I could always sense your disappointment." He paused, not sure he wanted to continue his thought. It sounded to him that he was whining. But he also recognized now that the truth was out, it was time to lay it all on the table. "But I always hoped our relationship was based on more the size of my dick. That happiness with each other was more than the measurement of a body part, whether it was my dick or your tits. How secure would you feel if I started having sex with someone because they had bigger tits, or weighed less?"

"It is more, of course. We have much more than that. Can't you see that?"

"Not right now, I can't. It's a basic need in a man to provide 2 things for his woman – her security and to please her sexually. If I can't do either one of these things, then I have failed you as a man. I am less of a man right now than I was 10 minutes ago. I can't please my woman sexually enough, through no fault of my own, to keep her from seeking the sexual gratification she should be receiving from me, between another man's legs. It's a massive failure on the most basic level of what it means to be a man. Can't you see that? It's like you would feel less of a woman if you couldn't have my baby."

"You're not a failure as a man, David, you have always provided for me and the kids. It's just that..." she searched for the right words to diffuse a quickly deteriorating situation and get to what she hoped was coming next.

"But you're not asking me to accept that you need a richer man. That you need a bigger bank book, but a man with a bigger dick? I can work harder and make more money, but I can't make my dick bigger."

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying there's a lot of pressure on you asking you to do something you can't do physically, and you have no control over," she added quickly.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers. She could see he was resigned to the situation as it was, and was now reaching for a solution. "It's you putting all the pressure on," he added. The conversation stopped for a minute. "Well, what do we do now?" he asked. But she couldn't think of any way to answer. This was going to have to be his decision. She didn't want to appear too eager, but she was hoping he couldn't smell her pussy as she rolled around the possibilities in her mind. She definitely knew what she wanted him to offer. Was it too much to ask of him to NOT toss her to the curb (she had fucked around on him multiple times – only one he knew about for sure) AND let her to continue to have her big cocks? It would be her perfect world.

He sensed her hesitation. But he also realized the decision was his alone. Could he remain married to a woman who no longer respected him as a man; who was no longer faithful, and gave no indication she was going to stop seeing other men? He only knew about the one for sure, but he suspected it was just the tip of the iceberg. There were too many signs pointing to it – he didn't have the heart to pursue all the leads.

He made his decision, "OK," he whispered, barely audible to her. She fought back the urge to scream out her approval, high-five someone and call her stud with the biggest, thickest cock and tell him to get naked, she would be there in 10 minutes to split her in two on his pile driver. But she held back, maintaining her serious expression. She didn't know what to say. So she said nothing. Finally, when she opened her mouth to speak, he interrupted, "I guess we can add that to our sex life."

"Huh?" she managed to get out.

He continued, "But we will have to manage some things before I can agree to it. That's fair. I'm giving up a lot in this."

"Yeah, that's fair. I want you to be good with what we come up with together," she spoke cautiously, almost afraid of what was coming next."

I spent some time thinking about this. First I want this to be a pleasant, fulfilling, exciting thing for you. I love you more than my own life, and I want you to be happy and fulfilled sexually because I love you. Since I can't give you that satisfaction, I'm willing to allow you to find that in another man. As long as you are sexually satisfied I'll deal with it without complaint. It is my gift to you. And that's only right since I am supposed to provide it to you. There are three or four basic guidelines I would like us to follow as a married couple to keep us a married couple."

OK, like what are you thinking, dear?" she asked.

"The first thing is: I want to have sex with you whenever I ask for it. I never want to be refused because you've been with another man and have nothing left to give me. You will never deny me, or turn me away"

"OK, I can live with that. And I'll go a step further. It will not be mechanical, passionless sex either. I'll give you my best.

"That makes it a lot easier, Sandi. Thank you. Next, any time you fuck another man, I will be there. It is for your safety these will be men you may not know. I would die if something happened to you because I'm not there to protect you. Plus, there is something else..." he didn't finish, as if he were reluctant to do so.

"And that is..." she asked. His eyes fell to the floor as he said, embarrassed, "I want to see it."

She paused with her mouth open. "What?"She asked, incredulous.

He continued carefully, "Sandi, I've known I would never be able to satisfy you sexually for a long time. I could see the disappointment on your face. I tried to do things to help you enjoy it more. After a while I realized that no matter what I did would disappoint both of us. But, more than anything I wanted to see you writhing, squirming under a huge cock, your pussy stretched until it has no wrinkles in it, uttering unintelligible sounds, hearing you moan while watching you skim on the crests from orgasm to orgasm lost in ecstasy. To see you pass out from the intensity of your orgasms. If it's not gonna happen on my dick, I want to at least watch it happen on a dick worth of your body. To see you let go, to see you out of control. To attack that giant pole like there is nothing else in the universe, hungry, needy for any feeling his cock can give you, anywhere. To strip the skin off it. I want to see it ravage you in every hole, filling you with his cum till he can't fuck anymore. That's what I want."

She would have to get accustomed to that, but she understands why. "OK, a little kinky, but it might be fun."

"What? Like a big cock fetish isn't 'a little kinky'?"

" Anything else?"

"I want to film it, secretly"

"Now, wait, David. That may be a problem with some guys."

"Just hear me out. The camera will be hidden from view. The tapes are for personal use only. I swear to you it is only for me. I want to have a record of every dick that ends up in your pussy, mouth or ass. I am lucky to have such a beautiful, voluptuous wife who is desired by any man who sees her. A wife who could make a dead man cum. I want to have a record of every one of your conquests."

"Wow. I never knew you felt like that. It's touching. I love you so much for doing this for me. I know how hard it must be."

"That's putting it mildly, I'd say." His face flushed with excitement. She didn't really know how to answer. She looked down.

"You're hard, aren't you?"

"Damned right I am. Who wouldn't be? It makes me hot just thinking about it."

"I can tell. You're making me horny just listening to you talk about it."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" he said crossing to her. He held his hand out to help her up. But she hesitated a split second too long. In that heartbeat he extended his hand further, to the middle of her chest and gripped her bra through her shirt and tried to pull her to her feet. The sudden strain on the bra made the material give way tearing it in two. But the shirt held intact while the elastic in the now-torn bra snapped back uncovering her tits underneath her shirt. The nipples, in an obviously excited state, pushed out the fabric of the shirt like two bottle tops straining to break through. The buttons were pulled to their capacity but they held, at least for the moment.

She screamed in surprise at his sudden outburst of passion. "Sorry 'bout that, "he said, "a little harder than I intended. But I liked it. Let's explore that a little more." As though he might hurt her a little before giving her immense pleasure. And with that he jerked forcefully down and out on the shirt, popping the buttons everywhere. Her tits, thrown in every direction settle back into their normal position, like two matching pendulums gradually settling back to equilibrium.

She now caught up with his enthusiasm. She stepped back, unbuttoned her jeans and wiggled her ample hips out of them, tossing them in a heap on the floor. She stepped back, raised her arms above her head, thrust her pussy out lewdly, doing figure 8's with her hips.

"You gonna finish the job, Tarzan?"

He emitted a low predatory growl. But instead of ripping her panties like he did her shirt, he scanned the room looking for something. There, on the shelf, the sewing kit. He took 2 big steps back and retrieved something. He wouldn't show her what he had, but she could hear the "snip, snip." He had a mock crazed look in his eye as he approached her on tiptoes "snipping" in front of his face. She put her palms on her cheeks in mock horror.

"Not that," she cried. He pulled the waist band out bunching the material and slicing through, repeating for the other side. The back and sides fell away, leaving only the tiny piece covering her pussy. Her abundant juices keeping it plastered to her, holding it in place. It was gone after a little jerk. She was naked.

She planted her hands on both hips and issued a challenge to him.

"Show me what you got, big boy." It wasn't meant to be anything but playful and it was received that way. He stripped and faced her, taking a football stance like a linebacker.

"I'm gonna fuck you now," he said in his most lusty voice. She mimicked a fake scream, turned and ran to the bed. She jumped up and flipped over on her back. She had one foot on the bed leaning back on her elbows. She thrust her tits out, taunting him.

"Think you can take me with that horse cock, cowboy?" Continuing the playfulness.

"I can pack whatever pussy you got, Little Missy." He threw back in his best John Wayne imitation.

"Oh, my, look at that," she said.

"I told you I was from Texas. Think you can handle this?" He took his dick and waved it back and forth, walking toward her.

"I don't know, hoss. Maybe I can, maybe I can't. Just don't hurt me."

"I'll try to keep the damage to a minimum."

He walked right up to her holding his hand in front at arm's length and kept walking until he ran into her, pushing her in the chest until she fell on her back. I was a better time than in a long time, sexually. There was no tension between them. The decision may have been the right one.

He positioned himself between her legs with his dick at the entrance of her honey pot. Her pussy lips were aching for that glorious push. He leaned over, getting closer to her ear. Puzzled, she lifted her head.

"One more thing, Sandi. If I ever catch you fucking another man without me there, we're finished. No second chances, no 'do-overs.' Do you agree to the terms?"