The Simple Things

It's the little things I enjoy most. Like helping my wife dress for a date, checking the seams of her stockings or simply reassuring her that she looks good. But best of all is buying condoms for her to use. I've been fixed for about eight years, so we don't need any birth control, but she always plays safe. I always get a thrill out of selecting condoms for her, especially when I know it's for a new lover. She likes lubricated, but not spermicidal, so I always try to find not only the style she likes, but also to get various brands for her.

My wife, Kim, and I met in graduate school. We are now both teaching at a rather small, teaching-oriented college not too far from Cleveland. It's a pleasant little town, but everyone knows everyone else's business.

We had been married several years before I shared my darkest fantasies with her, my desire for her to enjoy other men. It took even longer for her to agree to do it, and longer still to actually enjoy it. Her first lover was a man she met on-line, Jim. She exchanged e-mail with him for over a year before they met, at an airport hotel. He lived on the west coast, and arranged for a stopover on a flight to London.

They spent two days virtually locked in the hotel room, humping like rabbits. She later confessed that they "made love" three times during their first hour together, and twelve more times that weekend. She called it making love because she thought she was in love.

Jim nearly cost us our marriage. Kim really thought she loved him; maybe she really did. She read a lot about polyamory and we talked at length about our relationship. She and her lover exchanged e-mails daily, cybered regularly and spoke on the phone at least once a week.

In the three years she saw him, they managed to get together perhaps five times. Twice at the Cleveland airport, once for a week in New York while he was at a business conference, and twice she spent two weeks of summer in San Francisco, where he lives. Those last were very exciting for her, because he's married. She really felt like a mistress, only getting stolen moments during his workday, although one summer her visit was timed to coincide with one of his wife's business trips. She eventually got so emotionally involved that she was talking about having a baby with him.

But Jim never opened up to her, never really told her about his life away from her. I guess I should be pleased about this, because it eventually led to her breaking it off. We went through a very difficult time after that. She decided that she couldn't deal with my fantasy, that she couldn't handle having a lover. But we stayed together, we talked, and eventually she recovered.

She started talking about how much fun she had had, and about how she couldn't possibly take another lover because the local guys are all jerks, rednecks, and downright unattractive. She started dressing more provocatively, working out more, and teasing me about finding a new guy. Eventually, she went back on-line and started cybering again. But she didn't want to meet anyone in real time; she said she wasn't ready. And I didn't push her.

This past fall, Kim applied for and was granted a sabbatical leave. She arranged to work with someone at Florida State University, in Tallahassee. Her first couple of weeks there was all business: she worked, worked out, shopped, ate, and slept. Her daily phone calls and e-mails revealed a bit of homesickness. But after the third week, a distinct element of horniness crept in to her messages. She bought herself a wardrobe more appropriate for a student on the prowl than a married faculty member, she began telling me about the various men she saw regularly, at the coffee house, or at work, and so on.

I had jokingly sent her a twelve-pack of condoms as part of her birthday package in late September. Imagine my surprise when, in mid-October, a rare Saturday e-mail said, "you'd better send more." Weekend e-mails were rare because her e-mails were sent from her campus office and as a visiting scholar she usually only worked weekdays. This caught me totally by surprise.

I called her cell to get details, but it was off. And it stayed off all Saturday afternoon and evening. I eventually masturbated myself to sleep, fantasizing about her and some new lover.

Sunday she called.

"Hi, baby. I love you."

"Kim, are you OK? I was worried when I couldn't reach you."

"I'm OK. I'm better than OK, I'm GREAT! Oh, baby, I wish you were here. It was so good. I want to tell you everything, but I don't know where to start." She paused briefly.

"Friday, after seminar, some of the graduate students and post-docs decided to take the seminar speaker out for a couple of beers, and I went with them."

This set the scene pretty clearly, because Kim tends to get very horny when she drinks.

"There were ten or twelve of us, and we were having a pretty good time, talking and drinking, criticizing the academic establishment and just generally acting like young lions. I didn't drink too much, but I did lose track of the time. Before I knew it, I was saying good night to the last of our group, and was surrounded by strangers."

I could hear the excitement building in her voice.

"I was seated with Ian, a hot young grad student in painting who was clearly eager to get into my pants, even though he's about ten years my junior; his roommates Carl and Steve; and a sweet young thing named Trish. Trish was pretty drunk and I somehow felt responsible for her safety, even though we had only met that night."

"I really enjoyed having Ian's undivided attention, and found myself starting to fantasize a bit. His being a stranger was exciting, but terrifying. I decided that I'd give him my number, but no more. When I announced that Trish and I were going to get a cab and go, Ian volunteered to give us a ride. Carl and Steve said they wanted to stay and shoot some pool, so the three of us went off."

"I was feeling quite good, pleasantly buzzed. We managed to get Trish to her apartment - a rather typical student efficiency not too far from the University. Ian was completely charming on the way to my apartment. The facts that I was older than he AND that I was married - and thus presumably unavailable - apparently were, to him, enough to make me quite intimidating, yet interesting, maybe a challenge. But he wasn't sure enough of himself to know what to try. My feeling of being in control was exhilarating, more exciting than I can describe.

"On a whim, I asked him to join me in another drink, without Trish or his roommates, so we could talk. He drove us to a quiet little bar, and we drank and talked for another hour. I guess I drunk too much too quickly, because instead of just giving him my number, I found myself having "one more" at his apartment."

By now, the excitement in her voice was obvious.

Ian was behaving, but the excitement wielding such power over him had my heart racing. I decided to give him my number and go, but I opened my purse to find that package of condoms. I felt a warm flood fill my hips, and I thought about you and your fantasies, about what you wanted me to do. I looked at Ian and suddenly I wanted him in me, right then, right there. I wanted to put your condom on his hard cock and guide it into me. And as I thought it, I knew I was going to do it.

"So, in a way, it's your fault. It was knowing that you wanted me to that pushed me over the edge. Ian was seated on the couch. I pulled the package of condoms from my purse, leaned over him, and kissed him deeply. He quickly responded and tried to pull me down. I shook off his grip, gave him a peck on the forehead, and pulled him up by his arm, saying, "Let's go be comfortable. Where's your bedroom?"

"He led me down the hall, babbling apologies about his housekeeping, to a rather messy room with a king-sized bed, a nightstand, and a desk piled high with books. I turned my back to him, and ordered, "Unzip me," followed by, "unhook me," as first my dress, then my bra dropped to the floor. In just my thong, I sat on the bed. "Come here."

"I reached out and undid his belt, then unzipped him. He was already swelling to a nice firmness. He was thicker than you, and a little longer - maybe seven inches."

"I knelt, ranked his pants and brief down to his knees in one pull, and then slipped his cock into my mouth. I slipped my lips up and down his shaft, hearing him gasp and groan. I licked the head, to be greeted with a moan. I was so hot I was dripping, thoroughly aroused by controlling this young stud so completely. His cock was rock hard, his breathing was ragged, he was thrusting his hips in time to my sucking. I wanted to taste him, but I didn't want him to come now and quit. I needed to feel that beautiful hard cock inside me."

"Strip," I ordered. I opened your package of condoms as he quickly pulled his clothes off. I opened one and pulled the tip back a bit, then slipped it over that delightful cock. "I want to be on top," I said as I pushed him onto the bed. I lowered myself slowly onto him, experiencing a small orgasm as I did. I started riding him - raising and lowering myself as he filled me."

"Oh, baby - I'm getting so wet just telling you. It was SO good - so intense. I realized I not making love to him, I was fucking him. I came again, hard. I thought about you watching us, and I came a third time. He was thrusting hard under me now, close to coming. I ground my hips into him, and felt his cock explode. The twitching set me off for a fourth and very intense orgasm."

"After I could think again, I gently rocked on him, squeezing his softening cock inside me, thinking of how much you enjoyed that, how much Jim had enjoyed that. That brought another, mini-orgasm. This was apparent to Ian, who was probably feeling quite the stud for having made me cum so many times. Poor baby! If only he knew the truth! He was good, but it was just as much due to you and your love for me."

There was a pause. I was trembling, my pants wet, having cum during her story. "Kim, I love you so much."

"I know you do." Again, a pause. "Uh, John..."

"Yeah, baby?"

"I have another date with Ian tonight. He, Carl, Steve, and I are going to party at his apartment. I'm probably going to need another box of condoms real soon. Could you send it Monday? Better use overnight express."