Walt and Rhonda Ch. 05

He tore himself away, wondering why he didn't kick in the door, wondering why he wasn't angrier, wondering why it was so hot to see his wife suck another man's dick. It was all imagination until now, and it was hot to fantasize, hell, he had wished for it, if only to assuage his own guilt. Making his way down the stairs, wrapped in his own thoughts, he was unaware of the looks he got, sporting a bulge in the front of his trousers. How long, he wondered. Was the car rental guy the first? Had he pushed the game too far? Did she suspect him of his affairs? He made his way to the drink table, poured a soda, and headed out of the loud room to the patio.

He sat alone, lost in his thoughts. Rhonda just blew a guy, and you did nothing. That's not exactly true, he reminded himself, you watched. You watched your wife take a load of cum from another man, in her mouth, on her face, and like it. And it excited you, you enjoyed it. Enveloped by guilt and shame and uncontrolled horniness, he didn't hear Julie approaching.

"Well, you've certainly stirred up the henhouse," she said, sitting. "That's an impressive package you're carrying, sport." He looked up at her in time to see him glance at his crotch, and realized his erection was obviously tenting the front of his pants. He was so horny he thought he might explode. He looked at her, and she was grinning. "Need help with it?" She reached out and touched his hand. "If you haven't found Rhonda yet, I can always fill in. I already marked you."

He smiled, and took her hand in his.

----

Rhonda spent a few minutes in the guest bathroom, wiping the cum from her face and reapplying her makeup. A quick glance at her watch told her that she had better hurry, Walt might even be here already. She looked quickly for some mouthwash, but found none, and hoped she wouldn't have to kiss Walt until after she could grab a drink. He mouth tasted like cum like hot, creamy man jizz, and the part that she swallowed sat in her stomach like a good satisfying meal. No fucking, but a good, satisfying cock in her mouth, and a hot load from a hot man, God, she was so horny she might fuck Walt in the car. Or maybe blow him on the way home, she thought, shit, what a slut, to suck two cocks in one night. And she would still fuck him when they got home.

Glancing in the mirror she adjusted her shirt, shuffling her boobs inside her bra. Satisfied that she looked normal, she went out and headed down the stairs. I must be crazy, she though as she descended, sucking cock just minutes before my husband is due to arrive. It was irrational, and dangerous and oh, so wonderful, and she knew in her heart that the only way it would not turn out badly was if he was fucking other women. She glanced around the noisy room for Walt, seeing only Julie's young friends, dancing, partying, and in some cases, making out. She didn't see Brent either, and assumed he was looking for Julie. Seeing her chance, she scurried to the bar and poured a glass of wine, taking a quick sip, and surreptitiously rinsing her mouth. As she swallowed, she immediately missed the musky, bitter taste of the semen, and the hot memory of earning it.

She looked around the den, the living room and the kitchen, maneuvering her way through the crowd. Several times she heard snippets of conversation about a well-dressed man. When she heard one girl tell her friend that she was going to make a move on him, she turned and scowled, but the girl, young, pretty and drunk, had moved away. Rhonda made her way out to the patio.

Closing the sliding door behind her muffled the noise from inside, and she could hear conversations from the couples and groups who had come outside to talk and smoke. She scanned the crowd, but didn't see Walt or Brent or Julie. Three girls sat at a table, passing a joint, and she thought she remembered one from Brent introducing her earlier. She stepped up and asked if she had seen an older man, her own age, arrive at the party.

"Oh, yeah, the hottie in the suit?" So he hadn't changed his clothes, it had to be him. "He was out here before, talking to Julie. Julie says he's off limits, honey, I wouldn't cross her." Her friends all laughed at the good-natured warning, and Rhonda thanked her, and went back inside. He was here, she just had to find him. She wandered the room again, and ended up in the hallway to the bathroom, passing the line.

"Hey, Julie's friend, the line's back here," a drunk girl told her, glancing up from her cell phone.

"Oh, no, I was looking for my- for the hottie, in the suit," she quipped. "Have you seen him?"

"Who hasn't," she grinned, "I thought I'd gone to heaven when he walked through the room with that bulge in his pants."

Walt wasn't that big, she thought. Maybe it was someone else? But how could there be two men in suits showing up late at this party? "Have you seen him recently?"

"I think he went upstairs," she slurred, too loudly, and turned back to her phone.

Rhonda wiggled her way through the room again and headed up the stairs. Maybe he went to find a place to change. Won't the little girlies be disappointed. She reached the top, and saw the room where she had blown Brent. Too close, Rhonda, she chided herself, but felt a little pride in pulling it off. She started investigating doors, tapping lightly, turning knobs. All were empty. She reached the last door and a light from underneath. Thinking he must be changing inside, she silently turned the knob and opened it a crack. She peeked inside, saw a dresser and loveseat. Master bedroom. Maybe Julie let him change here. She eased the door open a little wider, peeking around the corner until she saw him.

He wasn't wearing clothes, but he wasn't changing. He was on the bed, on his knees, and he wasn't alone. His back was facing the door, and his butt cheeks clenched as he drove his cock into another woman's pussy. She could see between his legs, see his cock going inside her, HER cock, slipping into another woman's wet hole. It was erotic and enraging and terrifying all at once, and she stopped herself from gasping and running or barging into the room. She heard him groan, and heard her call out, and she stood there at the half-open door, unseen behind him.

For weeks, since their vacation she had wondered, fantasized, about him fucking other women. He had implied he'd done it on his text message after she'd left him at the convention. And she'd wondered. And imagined. And, to offset her guilt at her own activities, had hoped. And now she knew, and she watched. All night she'd thought about fucking him, feeling him inside her, feeling his strong body above her, pounding her, she had shaved her pussy for him tonight. She wanted that cock, those shoulders, that strong back that was so sexy to see, driving himself into a hot wet cunt beneath him.

She wanted her hands on that tight butt, feeling it clench as it was doing now, pushing his hips, feeling the muscles tense, and thrust. Into her, she wanted it in her, and yet she couldn't turn away, he looked so sexy fucking, so passionate, and she stared as he pulled the woman's legs up to his chest. He was pumping harder now, she knew the signs, he was getting close, and she heard him grunt with the effort, heard the woman whispering words of encouragement, and then he drove into her hard, all the way, and the woman exhaled sharply. God, she could see his balls twitching as he pumped his cum inside her, she could see some of it leaking out, his cock sliding slowly in and out, his cum mixing with her juices, and then he slipped out, and a fat drop of his cream slid out of her open hole. The last thing she saw as she pulled herself away from the door was that river of cum running out of a wet cunt, down the crack to her ass.

Her head was swimming. She fumbled her way down the stairs, to the drink table; she spilled a lot of wine trying to pour with shaking hands, and made her way out to the patio. She found a chair alone, apart from the few people still outside, and drank half the glass of wine. Walt fucked another woman. And I watched it. And you liked it, her voice told her, feel how wet you are? And it struck her that she was not angry. She was shocked, but not by Walt, by herself. She HAD enjoyed it, it had turned her on so badly that she could feel the wetness spilling from between her shaved lips. Her nipples were hard and tight, and she thought that if she was alone her fingers would be rubbing her clit until she came. Behind her horniness was relief, knowing that her marriage wasn't over, it was okay now that she had blown Brent, and fucked Andy and Jimmy. He was doing it too! And while she felt a slight pang of jealousy, it was nearly overwhelmed by her horniness at the vision.

She was still replaying the scene n her head when Walt emerged from the house. The girls were right, he WAS a hottie in his suit, and she waved to him. She felt the same thrill she always did when she saw him, but with a twist this time. She didn't want to deceive him anymore; she had seen him, and she had to tell him about what she had done.

Walt sat, and kissed her on the lips, sweetly, then pulled back and looked into her eyes, and kissed her again. She made contented noises as their lips brushed each other, and the tips of their tongues briefly made contact. He pulled back just enough to look at her.

"I missed you," he said. "I looked all over."

Her fingertips touched his cheek, felt the warmth of the skin of this most wonderful, sexy and caring man. "You found me now," she whispered. Her chest tightened with nervousness and excitement, and her pussy pulsed in response. "Are you okay if we go? I think I'm ready to leave."

"Oh, look at the lovebirds," they heard Julie squawk. "Still romantic after all these years? I am so jealous, I swear, I tell Brent all the time, you are the only truly happy people I've ever known." She pulled up a chair and sat. "How do you do it? What's your secret?"

They looked at each other, having seen their secrets, and each not knowing the other knew. Walt reached for Rhonda's hand, and held it between his own. A moment passed, and they stared into each other's eyes, then both smiled, just a little. Walt spoke.

"Sorry, Julie," he said softly, his eyes not leaving his wife's. "Another time. We have to go now." He stood. "Ready, hon?"

Rhonda stood and kissed her dumbfounded friend on the cheek, hugged her, and stepped next to Walt, slinking an arm around his waist, snuggling her shoulder into his chest. "It's great to see you again, Julie. Let's get together soon, just us, maybe a lunch or something ... not so loud." She squeezed her husband, feeling his solid mass, and hunched her shoulders. Walt squeezed her back, and leaned down to kiss her on top of her head.

"Ew, you two make me sick, get out of here, you're like lovesick teenagers." She stood, hugged her friend, and hugged and kissed Walt on the cheek. "You take care of my girl, you hear?" Rhonda saw a look pass between them. Was that Julie he was fucking upstairs? It was her bedroom ... They turned to go, but Rhonda pulled back to Julie.

"We're just going to sneak out, so tell Brent I said goodnight, and thanks for everything." Walt saw a look on his wife's face. Brent was Julie's guy friend, was that who Rhonda sucked off?

They made their way through the room, and Rhonda felt the eyes of all the jealous drink girls who suddenly knew they had no shot at the handsome distinguished hottie in the suit. Not today, girls, he's leaving with the old gal, who loves him. She felt another thrill run through her, and her pussy answered. They got to the car without talking, just being together. Walt opened her door for her, then got in his side and started the car. They drove in silence for a few minutes. Alone with their thoughts, they each struggled for a way to start, to say "I saw you, and it's okay, I love you, and I'm doing it too." But how to start? The longer the silence stretched, the more uncomfortable it became, the more obvious they weren't speaking.

"I have something to tell you," Rhonda began, just as Walt said, "We need to talk about something." They both smiled nervously, and traded 'you first's' for a minute. Finally, Rhonda agreed to go first. She took a deep, quiet breath, and spoke softly.

"I saw you tonight."

Walt, expecting to hear that her confess to having sex with another man, was taken aback. "Saw me?"

"Upstairs, in the bedroom. You were having sex. Fucking. You were fucking another woman, and I saw you. I watched you." Walt started stammering, and she stopped him. "I kind of suspected, since our vacation ... you know, the Andy thing. And the messages, that were kind of a tease. But they weren't."

"You saw me?"

"It's okay, I'm not angry. I- I kind of liked it. It made me ... hot. I got excited watching you."

Walt was confused. SHE had seen HIM? This conversation had taken a wild turn. She'd seen him, and liked it, gotten excited? He felt a surprising justification for his own arousal at having watched her. "You watched? You're not angry?"

"No, I'll explain," she began, but he interrupted.

"No, not yet, first I have to tell you why."

"Why you fucked her?"

"No, why I was so horny that I couldn't resist." He paused. "I saw you."

"When you got to the party? I didn't see you come in."

"No, I saw YOU. Upstairs, in the guest room, you ...you were sucking a guy's dick." He paused. "I watched, too. I- I couldn't stop myself. You were enjoying it."

Now it was Rhonda's turn to be rattled. Here she was thinking that she had seen his secret, and he had watched her sucking off Brent. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "I guess we really have some talking to do." She heard the catch in her voice, and her eyes became wet, oh, no, no tears, she thought, fighting it, but they came anyway. She didn't want Walt to see her, she didn't want it like this, but when she didn't speak he turned to her, and saw her hiding the tears. He reached for her hand but she pulled it away, and then he was pulling off the road, into a parking lot, mostly empty, and stopped the car. She struggled a little, but he took her, and held her, until she surrendered and buried her head in his chest. They stayed that was for what seemed to be forever, her sniffling on his jacket, him holding her tightly, saying quiet, comforting things, until she regained control, and he released his grip, but rubbed the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry," she said, fumbling for a tissue in her purse. "I feel awful, I'm a terrible person, my God, what you must think of me."

"It's okay, baby, really, it's okay."

"I feel terrible, Walt, I- I'm a bad person, a bad wife." She looked up at him. He saw the confusion on her face, confusion he felt as well. "Please don't hate me, oh, Walter, have we destroyed our marriage? What will become of us?" She wiped her nose, sniffled. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, I really DID enjoy it, I'm sorry, so sorry."

"Ronda, baby, what are you sorry about?"

"I- I had sex ..."

"So did I, remember?" he asked softly, still rubbing her neck, that soft tender spot where her hair ended.

"I liked watching you. You liked watching me. Now why are you upset."

"Walt, you remember that text I sent you, when I left you at the convention? I made like we were still teasing, you know, like when we were talking about it together, but I really did it, Walt, I had sex with Andy."

"I thought you did. I answered your text, too, like I was playing along. But I wasn't, I really did have sex." He felt the grip of his guilt then, and explained. "I put myself in a situation that got out of control, please forgive me, but I ended up fucking that girl in the mini skirt." He took a breath. "I felt really bad about deceiving you, I started to hope that you really HAD fucked that guy, to make myself feel better."

"Walt, what will happen to us now? Have we destroyed our marriage?"

"Whoa, hold on. Are you saying you want a divorce?"

"No, never, Walt, I couldn't stand to be without you, I love you."

He turned her head to face him, looked directly into her teary eyes. "And I love you, okay? I'll never leave you. So let's not have any more talk of destroying our marriage. You're the most precious thing in my life, you know that." She nodded, slowly. "So let's talk this through, okay?"

She gave him a wan smile, and he took her hands in his, and held them as he talked, they way they always had done when discussing serious things. "We teased each other on vacation. We've teased each other in the past, but this time we teased about having sex with other people, right?" She nodded. "And it got us both really hot, right?"

"Yes."

"It got us all hot, and we had great sex, teasing each other, and we had more great sex and teased each other more. Right? But then we did it. We each had sex with someone else." She was silent, but bit her lip, and nodded. "Right. So then we both 'fake confessed' and pretended we were only kidding, like it wasn't true, but it was, and we allowed each other to think it wasn't." He looked at her, and continued, speaking passionately now. "Honey, don't you see? It's not the sex, it's the dishonesty; I know it was for me. I was really bothered by it." He held her hands firmly. "We've never been dishonest with each other, in all the time we've been together."

"Oh, God, Walt, it was awful, knowing I was keeping this secret, walking around with it every day." She still looked a little nervous. "I did it again," she blurted, "before tonight." She smiled a little.

He blushed, and grinned. "So did I." He heaved a sigh. "Wow, It feels good to get that off my chest. And to see you smile again," he added, and then she blushed, too, and smiled wider. He leaned to her, and kissed her, thinking, where these lips have been, what I saw them doing. "I love you," he whispered to her.

"I love you, you horny hot man." She pulled back, looking into his eyes. "Are we bad people? Are we some kind of sick, perverted wierdos who-"

"Whoa, slow down there, what are you talking about? Where is that coming from?"

"Well, it all just feels so strange, it's so crazy."

"Honey, try to relax. We have a good, strong marriage. We're happy together, happier than anyone else we know. We had some sex, and we both liked it, but we were both scared to say anything to each other. Well, it's in the open now, and we haven't hurt each other, and we're still in love."

"But now what?" She felt uncertainty welling up inside her. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we do whatever we decide we want to do. We can stop, or we can continue, but whatever we do, we do it together, the way we do everything. No secrets, no hiding. We decide."

She listened to his voice, heard his words, but they didn't register. "Are you saying it's okay? That if I want to have sex with another man, it would be allright?"

"Honey, I'm saying that what we do is up to us, me and you. Look, I said before that I started hoping that you had fucked that car rental guy, because it helped me to justify my guilt at going behind your back. But it didn't stop there, I started imagining you doing it, seeing it in my head, and you know what? It was hot. It was wild hot." He took her hand again. "You know what I always tell you is the thing that gets me the most excited, the thing that turns me on more than anything else?" She was looking down, felt his fingers at her chin, gently lifting her head, to look straight into his eyes. "It's you, being turned on. When I see you excited, really getting into sex, getting wild, shit, I just go crazy. You know that."

She smiled again, and his heart lifted. "I know that. I like seeing you like that."

"Well, when I imagined you doing it,THAT was the you I imagined. The wild, sexy, horny you. And those fantasies got me so turned on. But let me tell you." He lowered his voice, and spoke slowly. "Seeing you tonight, with that guy, enjoying yourself, really getting into it and being loose and wild, it was hotter than any of those fantasies."