We Need to Talk Ch. 05

I looked to my left and saw her close her eyes for a moment and swallow. Her face was flushed again and I felt her grip tighten on my hand.

"Tell me," I said lightly.

She was breathing noticeably harder when she answered.

"He likes to spank women, other men's wives," she said in a small voice.

"And what else?"

She swallowed and said, in a whisper, "He likes to tie them down."

"Yes, he does, he likes to watch them struggle. And struggle they do, once the whipping starts," I said, "and the begging and the pleading, too. I imagine it's quite an ordeal for a naked woman, restrained, and completely at the mercy of a hard man with a firm agenda."

I was laying it on thick and Myra knew it, too. It was in keeping with our previous bedroom play stretching back many years.

'Why had we gotten away from it?' I wondered. 'We had both liked it.'

I knew what it was. It was my sloth, my ennui, my predilection to turn to alcohol and to gorging myself with food for stress relief, and it had driven a wedge between Myra and me. I was breaking both habits now with Myra's help, and while I felt the occasional desire for alcohol, I realized I could live without it, especially since Myra's and my sex life had improved so much. I was six weeks into my diet and exercise program and already I had taken in my belt two notches.

Better yet, running and gym training had improved my strength and endurance. Hiking to the top of Hard Rock had been pretty easy. Six weeks ago it would have been an ordeal. But this morning had been fun and Myra and I had enjoyed some good sex in the outdoors.

It occurred to me that Rich had played a strong role in my rehabilitation. Our long history together meant Rich deserved his reward, too. We were all friends from way back; Rich, Myra, me, and of course Helen, who was ill unto death.

But life goes on and it's for the living. There was no reason for Myra or me to hold back, and we both intended to get the most out of life. We could share with friends. The lake house could be our sanctuary from the real world, a place for relaxation and private debauchery.

We'd reached an agreement of sorts this morning without using too many words. But one thing still bothered me, and now was as good a time as any to address it.

We were walking silently together, holding hands, when I spoke.

"Myra, tell me about Claire Haskell. Rich told me you've been in touch with her and she's a widow now."

I felt her stride falter and her grip tighten.

"Yes, we found each other on Facebook. She's still in San Diego. Her youngest daughter, Jillian, is graduating high school. George died two years ago, so she's a widow, now."

"George? You mean they didn't get divorced?" I was incredulous and and felt a sense of relief wash over me.

"No, they patched things up and raised their three children together, but two years ago George got pancreatic cancer and died suddenly. She's been waiting for Jillian to graduate high school to move back here."

I was nearly overcome. All these years I'd thought my affair with Claire had caused her divorce and hurt her children. I was sorry about George, but glad they had stayed together.

"How about their kids? What are they doing?" I asked.

"Ben is an officer in the Army and Alissa is attending the University of Oregon. She's going to be a nurse. Neither is married."

Myra looked up hopefully. "That's good news, isn't it, except for George?"

"Yes, very good news."

With this news, all of the last hour's eroticism evaporated like mist.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, as gently as I could. We stopped. Myra turned to me and hugged me tightly and started to cry, surprising me.

"Do you still love her, Wendell? I know you did, once. I know you said you didn't, but I can tell. I'm so worried Wendell. I'm worried that she'll come back and take you from me."

She was bawling, shaking with sobs in the middle of the trail. I held her tight, perplexed. Who can understand such things? Certainly not a husband, but I listened to her, trying to discern her thinking.

Myra nearly had a physical affair two months ago, which I had stopped, and just last night she had fucked the living daylights out of both me and Rich. What's more, she was planning to do it again tonight. And she was worried I'd leave her for an affair partner I hadn't seen in 19 years? Some things are not meant for men to understand, but we are called upon to support our wives, whether we understand them or not.

"No, Baby, absolutely not. I don't love Claire. I'm yours and you're mine, always, for better or for worse. Claire is old news. I'm glad for her, that's all," I said, holding her close and kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry she lost George, but I'm very glad her family stayed together."

*****

We got back to the lake house in the early afternoon. Myra stood in the window where last night she had stood naked in the moonlight. She looked out over the sparkling lake, then cast her eyes downward to the deck. She could see our table and chairs from last night, right under the window.

"Boy, last night I really gave Rich a show, didn't I? I couldn't see him down there in the shadows with the full moon in my eyes, but he must have seen me. I am such a slut!" she said, and I sensed remorse in her words. "He was right there, looking up, just a dozen feet away. What he must think of me."

We pulled a light bedcover over ourselves for an afternoon nap. "He thinks you're a beautiful, sensuous woman with a generous husband who lets you have exciting adventures, that's what he thinks. This morning he was very concerned about us, concerned we're both alright with what happened last night. He has nothing but respect for you, Myra. And me, too, I think."

"He wants me again, doesn't he?" she asked.

"Yes, and that's to be expected. But he's not going to push. He won't act without making sure it's okay with both of us."

'And nothing on the side, Myra,' I thought.

"He gave me his word he wouldn't try to seduce you except here, at the lake house. I want the same promise from you, too," I said.

This was nothing new; we'd already talked about it. But I needed reassurance.

"I promise, Wendell. Only here at the lake house, no fooling around back home." She hesitated a moment, then added, "You know about his brothers, right?"

I knew Rich had two younger brothers. I hadn't seen them much over the years, and they were too young to hang with us when we were in high school.

"What about his brothers?" I asked. Rich mentioning his brothers in a sexual context with my wife was news to me.

"Last night, between sessions when we were talking, he asked if I'd ever fantasized about...more than one man. I told him maybe. He said he could make it happen if I wanted. He said to talk to you about it."

Jeez, the both of them must have been stoked with lust and plenty high to entertain such thoughts. In the bright afternoon light the idea of a gang bang on Myra seemed perverted beyond measure. I could tell Myra was curious, though, and that surprised me.

"Let's let that idea marinate for awhile. Right now, we both need a nap," I replied.

Boy, Rich was a kinky bastard! How had I not known? And Myra had fantasies about gang bangs? Wow. Just wow.

*****

I slept fitfully. After an hour I carefully disentangled from Myra and went to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Myra had considered sex with multiple men? I could hardly believe it. The logical choice would be me and Rich, but I had no interest in a threesome. Sex was too private for that, although I had to admit it had been...what? Exciting? Shocking? Intensely erotic? Yes, all those things, watching Myra writhing under Rich and completely giving herself over to lust.

I had seen Myra with new eyes and experienced Myra in a new way. It also occurred to me that Rich had experienced Myra in ways that I never had, and never could. There is a singularity about the sexual act that binds couples together. Myra was my wife but she had experienced something with Rich that was their's alone, and always would be. From now on, when it came to Rich and Myra, I would always be a tiny bit of an outsider. They would always have that unifying experience.

And what of tonight? I could wake her now, pack our bags, and leave for home before Rich returned. Last night could be an aberration, a freak event fueled by novices playing with marijuana. But I knew that would never fly; I knew better.

Myra wanted it and Rich wanted it; both had told me so. I knew Rich would accept our departure gracefully, and Myra, too, but would she harbor regrets and perhaps later, resentments? I didn't want that. What did I want?

The image of them...fucking...in the moonlight was overwhelming. I could feel raw energy rising in my chest, catching in my throat, making my face hot, and filling my brain with lust. And sending heat down below, too, making me a rock hard.

Tonight was our one chance to carry this forward. We could keep the lake house for 'special events' and lead normal lives back home. It could work.

*****

Rich returned that evening and we enjoyed a light dinner on the deck. We bussed the dishes and Myra shooed us out of the kitchen. She wanted Rich and me to talk, I could tell. All through dinner I had seen Myra and Rich exchanging looks. Fleeting and subtle, but I saw them. I knew what they meant.

I told Rich about our hike to Hard Rock, and how I had switched Myra's bottom and left a tangle of red wheals. He was surprised and wanted to know more.

"She's got a bit of kink and a bit of submissiveness in her," I said. "She was angling for something, and you know what it is. She wants a repeat of last night."

"Are you okay with that, Dell?"

"I'm okay as long as we keep it here at the lake house. This can be our special place for that kind of fun, but I absolutely do not want you and her to carry on back home. Can you promise me that, you horny bastard?"

"I promise, Dell. We'll keep this part of our life separate and keep it right here. Scout's honor," he said, raising his three fingers.

I laughed and returned the salute. "Myra said we scouts were horny little bastards. I guess that never changed when we grew up."

"It's your call, Dell. How do you want to do this? Do you want a threesome?" he asked.

"I don't think so, but I won't say no. I want to wind up Myra so tight she pops. I want to see her really let go. Let's start with a little weed first," I said. Then I filled him in on what I thought would ignite Myra's boosters. She was heading for escape velocity tonight, for sure. Rich nodded happily.

*****

"Fuck, I'm really baked," Myra giggled. We were all feeling pretty good. The moon had yet to rise over the lake but the eastern horizon behind the mountains was brightening. Myra was wearing the camisole and tap pants she had worn to cook breakfast. They were new so she'd planned ahead for this trip; she'd known what she was doing. And who brings shiny black low heels to a mountain lake house? She'd been asking for it, and she was going to get it.

I walked over to the corner of the deck and from a vase picked out a limber switch from this morning. I swished it through the air and saw Myra jump.

"What?" she said.

"You know what, Myra. Stand up," I said.

She stood and clasped her hands to her chest, her chin and elbows in tight, feet tight together. I knew she both hated and loved what was coming. Rich was smiling.

"Eeeeeee," we could her whimpering under her breath.

"Strip, Myra, lose the clothes. Rich wants to see you naked again and so do I. The moon is coming up soon and we want to enjoy the sight of you naked in the moonlight," I said.

I was laying it on thick but I knew Myra would eat it up, even as she feigned unwillingness. She turned around to look at us, glancing back and forth, shivering in the warm night air. I was hard and Rich must be, too. I'd be checking, but Myra was almost certainly soaking wet.

Myra skived off her tap pants in the blink of an eye and replaced them with a hand shielding her pussy, surprising me. I'd expected her camisole to come off first. She was playing the modest woman forced to undress in front of a group of men. Cute, and erotic as hell.

"All of it, Myra," I said, swishing the switch through the air. She jumped at the sound and quick as wink, the camisole joined the tap pants on a chair. Now she was naked and cowering, trying to cover up with her hands. I had just undressed my wife while another man watched, an incredible rush.

I reached in my pocket for a hair scrunchie. "Pull your hair back and put this on. Rich wants to watch your face."

Now she really did look nervous. Myra raised both arms to gather her long auburn hair into a ponytail, exposing her bare breasts and taught areolae. Her nipples proudly stood out. Rich was leaning forward in his chair, a big grin on his face. I could see his gaze lower to her pussy and in the brightening moonlight we saw the glistening dew of her arousal.

I moved a deck chair in front of Rich and moved the seat cushion to the top of the seat back. I tapped the switch and motioned for Myra to bend over the back of the chair. She did so and and grasped the armrests, finding herself looking right into the smiling face of Rich. I'm sure he appreciated the sight of her bare breasts hanging in front of his face.

"Rich, would you please hold Myra's wrists?" I asked.

He grasped her wrists, Myra stiffened, and I heard a low moan escape from deep inside her. This was all our personal spanking games rolled into one and supercharged by the presence and participation of Rich. I knew this was exquisite sensual torture for a spankophile like Myra.

I moved behind my wife and rubbed her bottom, reaching down the inside of one thigh and up the other.

"Legs just a wee bit further apart, Myra, let me feel you," I said.

A probing finger came back wet. She was dripping and her lips were engorged. I sucked my finger clean, replenished it in her depths, and put it into Myra's mouth. She moaned as she sucked it.

"Very good, Baby, you're good at that," I said, winking at Rich. I could see he was about to burst from his pants.

"Now hold very still, Myra, and count. This is for your slutty behavior in front of our host, wearing that scandalous camisole and those tap pants without any foundation garments. And those 'come fuck me pumps'? Who were you trying to kid, Myra?"

I went to the vase holding the switches and grabbed them all; now I had a proper birch. I'd dragged this out long enough.

I began by rapidly tapping Myra's bottom with the bundle of switches. The effect on Myra was amazing and she began writhing and twisting, trying to escape the onslaught. I could see Rich gripping her wrists while she struggled. Her feet were stamping on the deck and kicking back.

"Hold still, Myra, or I'll add more," I said, as sternly as I could muster. I looked at Rich and he looked like he was about to laugh, which would certainly ruin the mood. But it was comical in one regard; her pleading and shrieking were so out of proportion to the actual physical stimulus. But it was mostly psychological and all three of us had played our parts well. Time, then, for a little more stimulation.

I gave her a firm swat with the birch across her plump ass.

"Yikes! Fuck!" she cried.

"Watch your language, young lady," I said. Myra was no young lady but she liked it when I called her one. I liked it, too; it was all part of our game.

A few more licks and I stopped. I noticed that she hadn't counted. There were a few red stripes on her backside, but nothing like this afternoon. Most of those had already faded.

"Rich, your turn now," I said, offering him the birch. He took it and tried a few practice swishes, then turned his attention to Myra. I saw him admiring her legs and ass, the product of a lot of work in the gym and on the road. She was quite beautiful, proof that a middle aged woman can age gracefully by taking care of herself.

Rich applied a very firm stroke of the birch.

"OH, FUCK! Eeeooyah!" she cried, struggling against my grip and stamping her feet. She began breathing hard, nearly panting.

"I let you off easy, Myra. Rich means to make it sting. Now, you just take it like a good girl," I said, looking up at Rich.

He looked back inquisitively, head cocked, eyebrows raised. I answered him with a wink and a nod, and replied with the same. Myra couldn't see us. There was something at once highly erotic and funny about this, a strange mixture of eros, pathos and bathos.

"MOTHERFUCKER! Uhhhhh!" That was stroke two. I didn't want Myra to lose the eros, so I decided it was time for something else.

I signaled to Rich and he put down the birch. He began rubbing her ass and I tossed him tube of aloe vera cream. He rubbed it in and Myra began purring like a cat.

I leaned forward to hold her face, showering her with delicate little kisses.

"That was wonderful, Myra, I really enjoyed that. We didn't hurt you too much, did we? You were so brave," I said, helping her to stand and turning her toward Rich. He took her in his arms and she rested her head against his chest. I went into the house and returned with a fluffy white bathrobe from the shower. I put it on Myra and took her back from Rich.

She was still high and loopy and I thought she needed to go to bed. I shrugged to Rich as I helped her inside. He smiled back and shrugged. As I said, we are simpatico near-brothers.

I got her into bed and closed the bedroom door, wanting privacy with my wife. We embraced and then began one of the sweetest episode of lovemaking I could recall. No rushing, no agenda, just helping each other and re-forming our eternal bond. We'd been playing with fire and needed to reconnect. After we finished, we both slept soundly all night.

*****

I awoke to the smell of coffee. I momentarily panicked and felt for Myra, relieved to find her right next to me, still asleep. I snuggled into her and inhaled her scent, and I was suddenly overcome by gratitude. I had Myra who meant everything to me. And Rich? I'd shared Myra with him two night before but he could never fully possess her, not even for a moment. He'd enjoyed her body and she'd enjoyed his, but she would always be mine.

I was glad we'd shared with Rich and held no regrets or grudges. I might even want to do it again someday, but not anytime soon. Myra opened her eyes and we looked at each other.

"Hungry?" I said.

*****

Life returned to normal. Surprisingly, neither Myra nor I talked much about what we had done. I didn't feel the need and apparently neither did she. That weekend was time out of mind, a brief interlude between normal affairs and best left in an alternate erotic universe, where it belonged.

With one exception. It kept popping up in my mind over and over again, so I knew I would have to ask. I knew Myra well, I thought I knew her mind, but I kept thinking about what she had said about Rich's brothers and having more than one man at a time.

I'd never thought she was interested in anything that adventurous, but what did I know? She'd blindsided me with David Newton, seduced Rich Williams right under my nose and enticed me, without saying a word, to give her to Rich for two hours of hot sex. And she'd deliberately let me listen in, and watch. It was staggering to think of it that way. Now, if only one time, she had expressed an interest in...well, a gang bang.

Oh, and along the way she'd abruptly stopped my drinking, almost cold turkey. She'd got me to lose weight and become the gym rat I used to be. I was boxing again and loving it, maybe because it was my connection with a younger me. I was even running, something I used to hate. I did a 5K race in under 30 minutes and I was very proud of it.