Every Picture Tells a Story Pt. 01

My phone chimed. It was Bill, my best friend. "Hey," I said.

But instead of Bill's voice, I heard the sounds of a woman's cries of ecstasy, grunts and exclamations of passion, and the unmistakable sounds of gagging and wet skin on skin. "Oh, god yes! Give me your tasty cock! Mmm, mmm, mmm," she sputtered. Suspecting it was a prank call, I hit the "record" button.

Wait! Her voice sounded familiar. Staring at Bill's number, my mind raced to catch up to reality. Then, I could make out Bill's voice.

"Suck it, slut, oh, yes, suck that dick!" he said repeatedly.

"What the hell?" I thought, incredulous. Bill had a reputation as a lady's man, and being recently divorced, making up for lost time--a real charmer too. He loved showing off his latest sexual conquest, especially to me, his married friend. Did he accidentally call me?

"Ready for my cock to slide inside you, slut?" Bill taunted.

"Yes! Fuck me, Bill! Please, give your cock to me now. I want you to fill my pussy with your thick cock!"

Wait a minute, was that my wife's voice? "Mary?" I gasped.

"Oh yeah, it feels so good. Right there. Aha, don't stop. Oh, faster, faster. OH!" I heard her say.

Yes, that is Mary, my wife!

"Oh my god, yes! Harder! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Mary begged shamelessly. She does this low-pitched jazz-singer voice when she's excited. Honest to God, it drives me crazy. Then, I heard her squeal.

"Yeah, you love big cock, don't you? Say it!" Bill demanded.

"Ah! Oh! OH MY GOD... YES! I LOVE IT!" Mary cried out.

He grunted. "Oh, fuck, Feel that cock stretching you? Fucking your cunt? Take my cock, you fucking slut! I'm going to cum inside you!"

"Yes! Yes! I'm your slut! Fuck me! Fill me up! You're making me come!" she wailed. "Fuck! Come in me! Please!" I heard her beg him.

My mind raced. This can't be real? Certainly not, no. Bill was a prankster--he must have convinced my wife Mary to go along with this practical joke. They must be pretending to be caught having an affair.

Avoiding Bill's mischief kept me on my toes. This time, he must have convinced my wife to help him too. That was a devious trick. What an asshole he could be! Even though I recognized her voice, I never heard her use words as vulgar or indecent. It sounded so passionate, so slutty, so intense. I had no idea she was capable of being this naughty. Even knowing she was acting for a prank, her sexy voice got my motor running.

"Oh my god! I'm coming! Oh yes, oh yes, right there. Your cock feels so good! I'm coming..."

Listening to their impassioned sounds, I actually started feeling uncomfortable, and I'd had enough. "Bill! Mary? OK, you got me, a good one, too!" I said into the phone. "Best prank ever! You can stop now."

"Pete! Are you there? Oh, Pete! Your wife loves fucking, doesn't she?" Bill jeered. "Well, she loves fucking me, Pete," he said, sounding out of breath. "Mary is the best pussy I've ever had," he goaded me, his breathing labored, "Especially for men with big dicks, right? Aren't you?"

Bill, in between grunts, continued, "She loves being dirty! Sucking my cock, taking it deep in her mouth, licking my balls, rimming my asshole, making my cock hard so I can fuck her! And brother, I love fucking her!!"

"Oh, god! Yes! Yes!" she howled.

I fidgeted uncomfortably, "Bill, you're taking this too far. Enough, please." I entreated him, "Mary, you can stop now." Although, even as I said it, this feeling of trepidation was growing inside me.

"For a wife, you picked a winner, for sure, Pete! Big tits, a sexy body! And her hot, wet pussy, Pete? She keeps it shaved for me. Did you know that? For me!" he repeated.

Wait, I thought, Did she tell him she's been shaving her pussy? It was unlike her to share something so private. How did he know?

Her voice was still in the background, one climax after another, it seemed. It sounded so real...

I shook my head. They were both really going all out on this caper, even as in bad taste as it was. I'd never heard either one of them use language like this before. They were dedicated to the prank, for sure--or so I thought.

"And speaking of tight, hot pussies, Pete, I have fucked the hell out of hers. As often as I can now, she can't get enough of my cock! I guess she's never had one as big as mine! I'll ruin this fucking cunt and wear it out! I'll send her home stretched out!"

"I'll send her home to you. Don't worry, Pete. But her cunt will be full of my cum! Have you gone down on her recently? She told me you did--many times! Did you smell my cock on her pussy? Taste my cum in her cunt? I like the thought of you getting my sloppy seconds, Pete. And you know what?"

He paused, grunting and breathing heavily.

"Mary does, too. She loves fucking me. And now, it's out in the open! She loves that you know!"

I took a deep breath. Something wasn't right. This was way too far to go for a prank, even for Bill. I couldn't believe Mary would go along with it. "OK, you got me, good too! Bill? Ha ha ha, very funny. You can stop now." I said, my voice shaking now. "Jokes over, you got me."

Suddenly, a picture showed up on my phone, a smooth, wet pussy with a dick part way in. Then another, this time with my wife's face covered in sweat and a semi-hard penis pressed against her cheek, her tongue stretched sideways to taste it. Then a third, this one unmistakably my wife, from the rear, and she was on all fours, her red, raw pussy dripping with spunk. A fourth, her face in his naked crotch, his balls in her mouth. A fifth, this time in our house, our bedroom, and another in our kitchen.

I felt my face flush red. I could feel the heat radiating off my cheeks. I sat down, weakly, fighting the rising feeling of nausea. It was dawning on me just what was happening.

More images arrived, and I could see her face on each and every one. She was smiling, laughing, or climaxing. Each picture told the story of two people having the time of their lives.

"Look like a joke to you, Pete? Are you laughing? Or, does it make you hard? I hope so! But I'll get the last laugh this time!"

I didn't respond. My mind was numb. I thought back to when we met Bill, over a year ago. My then-girlfriend Mary and I were newly engaged, and it was at a church barbecue picnic. He was there with some mutual friends.

Bill was about 5'10", broad-shouldered and strong, with sandy blonde hair trimmed high and tight, blue eyes, and a naturally lean and fit physique. Outgoing and a show-off. Tanned, tattooed, and toned.

"She can't get enough of my big cock!" He boasted "You love a big cock, don't you? You're such a slut for me! You love my big cock in your hot little pussy, don't you? Say it!" he demanded.

"Oh my god yes, I'm your slut! Fuck me with your big cock!" Mary managed to say, her voice interrupted in parts by Bill pounding her cunt.

I'm 6'1'', lean, but fit from jogging and tennis. My dick is a good size, I think, about 6 inches hard, but I never really measured it. I know, from a drunken bet one night, that Bill's dick is the same size as mine, no matter what he was saying now.

"Oh yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Mary cried out from the phone, lustily.

Mary is the most beautiful, most intelligent woman I've ever met. She is very tan, as her people come from Central America, with deep brown eyes and long, wavy black hair. She is quite tall, around 5'11''. Her large breasts are round, full, and 100% real. Like a leggy, exotic model, she draws men's eyes (and some women's) wherever we go. I long ago got used to the ogling from other men, even wolf whistles, as if I wasn't there.

"Ugh! Ugh! Fuck me!" Mary grunted.

When we met Bill, a combat marine who had just returned from deployment in Afghanistan to our little town, where he found his house empty and foreclosed and his wife gone. She ran off with some musician to Oregon, maxed out his credit cards, and stole every penny from him. He wound up staying with some mutual friends while he put his life back together. We met at a fire hall barbeque and fell for his charm and undefeated attitude. He was boastful outwardly, but on the inside, he was humble. He didn't even bad-mouth his soon-to-be ex-wife but instead talked hopefully about the future.

Mary and I were engaged at the time. We married soon after with Bill as the best man.

We helped him out as we could, being poor newlyweds ourselves, and made sure he had a meal and a roof when he needed it. The truth was that I developed a mild hero-worship thing with him, a kind of bromance. He'd sometimes tease me about it in front of Mary, "Be careful, kitten, your sissy boyfriend may leave you for me!"---much to my chagrin.

I'd shoot back. "Like Mary, I prefer REAL men, but you keep trying!"

Bill would snort, grabbing his dick through his pants and wiggling it, saying, "Suck my cock! Mary doesn't mind; I bet she loves watching!"!"

We were about the same age, but where I was educated, reliable, consistent, and cautious. Bill was a trained soldier, world traveler, and wild, especially with women. We were bookends, opposites but a matched pair. He was also fearless and loyal. Well, loyal in his own mind, as I was discovering now.

He recovered from his financial troubles quickly, starting a successful business in town. We became close friends, the three of us, spending nights around a campfire, weekends traveling, fishing, and hiking. Mary even called him my adopted twin brother.

Let me give you an example of what kind of person he was: Once, moving into our new house, I sprained my arm unloading our refrigerator. Mary drove me to the hospital and called Bill to lock up our house until we could return. By the time we got back that night, he'd moved all the boxes and appliances in, hooked them up, assembled our bed, and had dinner delivered. He refused to take a penny for it. I thought of him as a true and genuine friend.

Even though we were close, Bill and I were both pranksters, always trying to catch the other guy, one-upping the tricks--it was almost an obsession. Mary would sometimes participate if only to keep herself from being our target. In fact, he was easy to prank, as he was impulsive and had a giant ego.

One time, I poured oil under his prized truck, and when he pulled away, he thought it was a massive leak and spent an hour searching for the source, with me hidden and laughing the entire time. The next day, I dumped a puddle of chocolate syrup in the same spot, which, from a distance, looked like oil. He thought the leak was back and was freaking out when I calmly walked up, put my finger in the puddle, and tasted it, announcing, "Did you get your oil changed at an ice cream shop?"

He got me back, though. He was devilishly clever too. Mary was gone for a few days, and I learned later that Bill hid toy alarm clocks around my house, set to go off at random times, at 1 a. m., 5 a. m., etc., with the most annoying sound I've ever heard. A quiet, high-pitched "Beep... Beep." with about 4 minutes between. He must have bought a case of them and spent days hiding them. The sound of them going off drove me nuts until I became an expert at locating the "beep... beep" devices and destroyed them one after another just to get some sleep. I'd thought I'd found them all, until a few days later I started hearing it again, this time at home, at work, even in my car, a faint 'beep... beep'..." for a minute or two, then disappear. I searched for hours but couldn't find any of Bill's dumb clocks, so I thought I was hallucinating, going crazy, until I discovered he had set my phone to randomly play that sound. Mary must have helped him on that one--it was brilliant. We had a good laugh together.

His voice on the call brought me back to reality.

"Pete? Are you hard?" he asked. "... Listening to your wife climax, does it make your dick hard? Want to hear it a few more times?"

I became aware that my cock was tenting my pants, painfully now. I sat down, weakly, fighting the rising feeling of nausea. It was dawning on me just what was really happening.

I could hear Mary climaxing again. "Oh, oh, oh! Fuck me! Bill, fuck me harder!"

"Tell me, Pete, say it," he demanded. "Tell me your dick is hard!"

My mind was numb, and I kept thinking the joke would be over. "Yes," I heard myself say, not knowing why I did.

"I knew you would be, brother. I know you." Bill grunted with satisfaction. I wasn't sure if his smirking was due to his climax and pumping my wife full of his seed or making me admit the shameful truth.

He grunted again, over and over, and I heard Mary cry out, "Yes! Oh, god yes yes!" Then the call got quiet, and I just heard two sets of heavy breathing.

Though breathing heavily, Bill spoke, "You know the first time I fucked her was before you were married? Do you remember that volleyball tournament at the Moose Lodge? She offered to make a beer run, even as you argued there was already plenty, but she insisted, saying she'd pick up your favorite local brew. You were playing in the finals and offered to go with her after the game, but she was already leaving, promising she'd be back before you were finished, and wished you good luck. Even blew you a kiss!"

I thought for a moment and recalled that day.

"Right as you turned back to the game, she took my hand and we drove off," he added.

I did remember.

They were gone for over an hour, to the point people asked me if she'd gone home. They did return with some generic beer, claiming they got lost trying to find a brewery. I thought the story was unlikely, but Mary refused to talk further about it, and since my team had just made the final round, I quickly let it go.

Bill continued, "A hot slut even then, she couldn't keep her hands off me! I fucked her in a park a few miles from the picnic. It was supposed to be quick, but we just kept going until someone called the sheriff, and we almost got caught!"

"I'm sure it started as 'pre-wedding jitters.' She said neither of you dated much before you met. She claimed she wanted to be sure she was marrying the right guy."

I heard Mary climax again.

Bill continued his monologue, "Well, I guess she did. You are a hell of a husband, Pete, better than I was, I'll admit."

I was speechless.

"But..." he added, grunting again, "It turns out I'm a better fuck!"

My cock throbbed in my slacks, betraying me. I started shaking even more.

"That pussy was insatiable! We did everything! After we finished, she made me swear to keep it a secret, that it was a mistake, and we'll never do it again," he said, mocking her voice.

"But we never stopped!" he boasted.

I could hear muffled, wet, sloppy sounds, gagging and moaning, and wondered if she was sucking his cock right then.

As if reading my mind, Bill cheered her, "You are such a slutty cocksucker! Oh, yeah, like that! Your mouth is so fuckable! Does your husband know how good you suck cock?

I heard Mary respond with, "Mmm, hmm!" Then more wet, sloppy sounds.

"Lately she's been wanting it every day! She's got my dick on speed dial!" He laughed. I heard Mary's voice grunting as he pounded her again.

I shook my head. How could I have missed this? How could I not tell what was happening under my own nose?

"Don't worry, brother! I made her promise to take care of you! Anything you want, she had to do: fuck her anytime! Suck your cock! Anything! After I'm done, she's all yours! Easy-peasy!"

I heard him grunt and wondered if he was ejaculating into Mary again. "I got your back, bro!" he said, gleefully.

That hurt the worst. I thought my wife and I had a great sex life, a real connection. Was it all fake? Am I a fool?

"You knew that, right? You knew I was getting her motor running for you? Lately, she can't keep her hands off you? Right? Did you also notice her sweaty body smells like me? And her lips taste like my cock? She told me she makes you lick her pussy. Does my cum taste that good?"

I shook my head in disbelief, ashamed of myself for not questioning those little changes in Mary that should have tipped me off. There was an intense, humiliating, and burning sense of betrayal on both their parts. It was more than unfaithfulness--it was a complete devastation of my world.

"It's almost your turn, bro! You've been doing it for weeks! Nothing has changed, except now you know, but you've always known, right?"

I felt like I was punched in the stomach.

Bill grunted one last time, and I heard Mary whimper softly. Then the call became quiet for a moment. Bill, catching his breath, added, "You know I love you two like family. You are a good husband, Pete. Mary loves you, and she needs a good, solid husband like you. If you hurt her, I'll know," he warned me. "Now let's get you home so your husband can fuck his slutty wife's hot wet pussy!" he said.

I heard a slap, and my wife yelped and then giggled. "Bill!" she cried gleefully.

Then, Bill's voice got intense, and he continued, "Brother, trust me, this slut loves to fuck! If you keep your head straight and stay cool, you are in for the best sex of your life!"

"You'll thank me for this, Pete." The call ended. I looked at the call timer. My life had been changed in just under an hour.

*****

About 20 minutes later, my wife Mary walked in the door like usual, sweaty and disheveled, her face flushed. She used to tell me it was due to her taking an intense spin class and explained that the workout turned her on. I thought it was my good luck and never complained. She would seductively take me by the hand to the bedroom...

We'd make love. Even though she always seemed fatigued, she'd nearly jump me, eager and ready, but there was never much variety or foreplay, and it would be over quickly as it started. Now it was obvious why. My brain felt like it had been scrambled.

"Hi, Pete," she said.

Mary sat down next to me and put her arm around me. "Did you enjoy that?" she asked. Her sweet voice, the same one I heard climaxing on the phone a little while ago, was somehow different. False. Patronizing. Or was that my bruised ego making it sound that way?

"What?" I croaked, not comprehending.

"Bill said it would get you excited and hard, did it?"

"Um, no, but I'm OK." I lied. I guess over the years I'd been conditioned to get aroused along with her, and even now my body responded to her sexy voice even as my soul was being crushed. My dick was semi-hard, but right now, looking at her made me sick.

"Pete?" she asked.

I repeated "I'm OK," trying to convince myself, and failing.

But the truth was, I had no idea how to react. I felt stupid, exposed as a complete blockhead, a husband who was incredibly blind to his wife's needs. What did they think of me? Did they think I enjoyed the idea of playing the role of a servile cuckold? The very idea of it was revolting, but they seemed to think I fit that description, somehow. Why?

I felt numb, but deep inside I could tell powerful feelings were trying to get through. I thought about Bill's words. I'd always kind of looked up to him, but now? Was he still playing me for a fool? Were they?

She nuzzled my neck and nibbled at my ear. It felt good, but I wasn't in the mood to reciprocate. "Bill suspected you've known about us for a while. He said you got off knowing and playing along as the unsuspecting husband..."

She reached down and rubbed my dick through my jeans. "Mmmm, yes!" she murmured into my ear.

"Bill said you secretly liked it when I was bad. And I've been really bad. And I'm going to keep being bad. Does that make you hot?" she whispered in a sultry voice, the tip of her tongue tracing around my ear. "But I'll always come home to you. And be yours again, you know. Your wife, your lover, your forever partner." She assured me. "You still understand that, right?"

I smelled the musky, sweaty scent of his cock on her breath. My sense of smell had been a little borked since I had Covid in college, but now, the tang was unmistakable.

I blinked. I turned toward her and looked into her eyes, her flushed and sweaty face, her dimples, and her warm, sexy smile. "I'm not sure anymore," I admitted, fighting back tears.

She took my hand gently. Leaning in, she whispered, "Make me yours again, like you do."

I recoiled, saying, "I... I don't know..."

In a beckoning voice, she tempted me, "Let me show you."

She led me to the bedroom, then turned and dropped down onto her knees, her hands reaching up and unbuckling my jeans, letting them drop. Then she quickly pulled down my boxers, freeing my achingly hard cock, the tip slick and dripping.

She took it in her mouth. Usually, she was timid, even reluctant, when giving me oral and only did it as long as she thought she had to. But this time she bobbed up and down eagerly. The fact that I had been semi-hard for almost an hour, and the new thrill of her earnest and submissive approach had me close to ejaculating in only a couple of minutes.

Out of habit, I warned her I was going to come--she would usually take my cock out of her mouth and jerk me onto her tits or a towel, but much to my surprise she kept going and I emptied my nuts into her mouth. She kept sucking and swallowing until I pushed her away.

I collapsed back onto the bed. Mary crawled up next to me and silently snuggled up like we used to.

But lying there, I couldn't get that phone call out of my mind. The ugly truth I had to confront.

Yes, she cheated on me. For quite a while, too.

My best friend told me she had.

If it were up to her, would she still be fucking him behind my back, I wonder?

However, there was something else. The painful truth I could not escape. She was on fire when he fucked her just now, more than I've ever seen her. Wild, uninhibited, passionate, unrestrained. Incredibly sensual, much more than I ever believed she was capable of.

Was it something Bill had, some magic property? The bad boy thing, bold and aggressive?

Or, was he just a really good fuck?

And was I destined to be an unexceptional, boring spouse, getting only what he told her to give me? What he made her give me. A good husband and provider, but pathetic in bed?

I reached over and started to play with her soft, firm, and full breasts, her nipples becoming erect at my touch.

"Do you like how that feels, you dirty slut?" I whispered softly in her ear.

"Pete, I'm your wife," she corrected me. "Don't call me a slut."

"You're right," I admitted. "My boring wife... workaday, ever bland in the sack... with me."

Mary looked at me, surprised.

"A quick, dutiful spousal fuck, unimaginative, common." I sighed, feeling sorry for myself.

I slid my hand down to her well-fucked pussy, lightly tracing the folds, feeling her heat, and, well, Bill's semen and her wetness for him. I massaged her clit until it was tender and hard.

"Oh, Pete, that feels good," she whispered, her breathing increasing. Easing my glistening fingers out of her sopping pussy, I brought my hand up to her mouth and traced around her lips, then gently penetrated her mouth, feeling her tongue tasting my fingertips.

"Yeah, taste your own well-fucked pussy, all loose and wet," I coached her. "Lick my fingers clean." Mary eagerly complied, sexily sucking my fingers, one at a time, her lips dripping with spit and sex.

"Mmmm, fuck, that tastes good," Mary flirted in a sexy whisper.

I turned her face towards mine and kissed her mouth, pushing my tongue deep into her mouth. Then, I turned my head away.

"You taste like Bill's cock," I said, flatly, as if I was remarking on the weather.

On hearing that, she glared at me, even as I moved between her legs. She obediently spread her thighs and bent her knees. I slid my cock into her well-fucked cunt easily.

"What do you think about my cock, slut? Can you even feel it? Why not pretend you can, for me? Go ahead, act like the whore that you want to be," I said sincerely. I started fucking her, slowly but deeply. "Are you a whore just for him or me too?"

"Pete! I'm your wife!" she reminded me again, angrily. "Don't..."

"Bill called you his whore, his slut, and he fucked you like a slut, then you came on his cock like his slut. Then after he was done with you, he sent you home to pity fuck me," I reminded her.

She looked horrified. "No!... " she started to say.

"Oh, right. You're my wife. Obligatory, compulsory sex for the husband. He's done with you, sends you back with instructions, and you obey him. 'Go fuck lonely Pete!' And you do. Just like Bill told you to," I waxed, disinterested.

She gasped, maybe genuinely hurt. "But, Pete, I love you!" She insisted.

"You don't fuck me like you do him." I reminded her, matter-of-factly. "I just learned how well you can fuck, how enthusiastic you can be when you want to, when a man you don't love calls you his slut, when he ejaculates in your cunt, then sends you off to fuck another man, like... his... whore. Am I supposed to settle for seconds? For the leftovers?"

"But, but we thought, I thought you were playing long, that you knew..." she spoke haltingly, the cold realization taking hold.

"I know that you've been fucking me half-heartedly and half-assed."

Mary was speechless, but her eyes were welling up with tears.

I rolled off her, staring at the ceiling. "What's the point? Bill showed me how passionate you can be when you want to--you both made that clear."

I rolled over again, facing away from her, and said, "The odd thing is I do love you... But I'm not settling for Bill's pity, or yours," I reminded her in a soft-spoken yet steely voice.

Mary got up and ran into the living room, and I heard her sobbing.

I thought I'd be torn up, but inside I just felt numb, maybe a little relieved. I shouldn't have to compete sexually for the honest attention of my own wife, against my best friend too.

I didn't like this game. In fact, I didn't have to play at all.

My wife... my best friend, are both seemingly gone now. I was suddenly aware of how alone I was and emotionally sapped, empty. But I was not a puppet, at least. Weary from the shock of everything, I guess I dozed off.

The next morning, I got up late, and the house was empty. I made coffee and sat in silence, just listening to my own breathing.

My phone chimed, as I knew it would. I took a deep breath.

My phone chimed again. It was Bill, my best friend. "Hey," I said.

"Pete! What did you say to her?" Bill demanded.

"I told her I loved her," I replied, honestly.

"But she's been over here all night crying her eyes out!" Bill shot back, exasperated.

"Maybe you should fuck her, Bill. That seems to cheer her up," I suggested in a snarky voice.

"God dammit, Pete! I warned you not to hurt her!" he railed at me.

"Bill, I told her I loved her. Maybe she needs a man to comfort her, to share her pain. Here's your chance to step up, Bill," I offered. "Like a good husband would."

"Fuck you, Pete! I'm on my way over there and..." he screamed.

"No, Bill! No, don't hurt him! Stop, Bill! Leave him alone!" I heard Mary's voice pleading with him.

I hung up the phone. Bill wasn't coming over. He knew he was caught--no woman wants to give herself to a man who has no feelings for her. No man really wants a woman truly in love with another man. They were deceiving themselves. I just called them out on it.

It took a few days, but when Mary came home, she knocked on the door one morning even though she had her key. I answered it and let her in. Her hair was wet, pulled back in a ponytail, and she smelled of fresh soap and shampoo.

I made coffee and poured both of us a cup. We sat in silence for a while.

Finally, I asked, "Did you know he was going to call me while he fucked you?"

Mary shook her head.

"No," she admitted. "I wanted us to come out in the open with you. But, you know Bill, impetuous, with a big ego. I thought he'd come with me to talk to you after we.... Well, I didn't plan it like that. It kind of blew up in our faces. In hindsight, it was incredibly cruel. I am sorry."

She shook her head again. "What a mess. I did really go over there to convince Bill that we could talk to you, and maybe we could convince you to open our marriage, the three of us, in a mutual..."

I held my hand up, stopping her.

"So I could get a pity fuck after he was done? Maybe a quick handjob as you went out the door? No, thank you."

Mary looked as if she would deny it would ever come to that, but we both knew the truth.

"You went behind my back because you found it thrilling. Sneaking around is intoxicating and a little dirty too, right?" I accused her.

She shrugged, "It wasn't like that..."

I took a deep breath. I had no time for her excuses. "Why are you here? To hurt me more?"

Mary shook her head, but I think it was more in realization than denial. "Where do we go from here?" she sobbed softly, "I can't lose you!" she said, almost to herself. Her shoulders shook, then she took a deep breath, getting control of herself again.

"What do you want from me?" She pleaded, looking up at me.

I put my phone down on the table and hit "Play." The sounds of her wanton affair, her climax with Bill, filled the room:

"Oh, oh, oh! Fuck me! Bill, fuck me harder!"

"Take my fucking cock, you slut!"

"Fuck me, Bill, Oh, god yes!"

"I want this," I stated, pointing to the phone, "for us both. And not performative, but genuine." I took a deep breath and explained. "That passion, that energy. Not because Bill told you to, either, but because you are my wife. But, I think our moment has passed, hasn't it?"

She shook her head. "No, Pete! We can go back to the way it was. You were so happy a few days ago! You seemed to enjoy it when I..."

I glared at her.

She shook her head. "Didn't you tell me once that you had a bisexual fling in college? Didn't you also tell me you had a little 'man crush' on Bill?" she prodded me.

"Yes, I admitted I sucked my roommates' cock one time before I even met you. It never meant that I'd stoop to licking the urinal in a truck stop now," I shot back.

Mary looked as if she were going to take offense, but then sighed, letting it go and sitting back in her chair. The lustful sounds of that phone call still echoed through our kitchen.

"Maybe you are right. I misjudged the entire situation, made a mistake, and tried to convince myself that it was okay, as long as maybe you knew, or that sharing me with Bill was somehow arousing to you," she admitted. "Bill convinced me you suspected, maybe that you wanted it, maybe you were the type... No, I was foolish to think that."

Mary sighed. "You are definitely not that type," she assured me. She sat up and looked at me, taking my hand in hers.

"Pete, I want us to heal, to fix us. Anything. Whatever it takes," she promised.

I looked at her, into her eyes. I fell in love with those eyes once. My thoughts were confused and jumbled.

"Do you think I should forgive you? Give you a second chance?" I felt anger rising up inside me.

"Maybe 'Learn-to-trust-you-again'?" I mocked her, sincerely trying to control my emotions.

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Mary replied, "No, that trust is lost, I know. The hurt I caused is not easily forgivable. I accept that."

"Are you going to stop seeing Bill?" I asked, half-joking.

Mary looked into my eyes. "No... I don't know. Everything is different today. I know I should promise you that I will break it off with him, but I'm not sure I trust myself, honestly. I do promise that there will be no more secrets, no more lies."

I thought for a moment about her answer. "That's candid, I guess, but not good enough. I don't want to learn about it later. No more frat-boy phone calls. No cheating behind my back. If you feel... weak, you tell me first," I told her.

"So you can talk me out of it? Forbid me?" she asked, a little edge in her voice.

I shook my head. "I said TELL me, not ASK me. I think we're beyond ultimatums at this point. I don't like being my wife's second choice. You have to know that."

Mary nodded.

I pointed to my phone, still playing the sounds of her begging to be fucked, climaxing over and over again with Bill:

"Fuck, that feels good!" she moaned in the recording.

"Do you like my hot little pussy, stud?"

"You're so tight!" Bill snarled,

"Yes! I love your married slut pussy!

It's so fucking tight and wet!"

"Bill, your cock is so thick! I can feel it stretching me open!"

"That's it, stud... Fuck my pussy good! Yes!

I love your cock. Oh! Oh! Fuck yeah, baby!"

"Yes!... I want to fuck... Oh!... your... OH!... fucking cock...

OH!... all night!" she pleaded with him. "Don't ever stop!"

I sighed...

"What about this? Could this ever be us?" I asked, afraid of what she might say. I felt my knees tremble. Could I live with a wife who felt the need to seek sexual satisfaction from another? Could my ego handle her telling me I'd never be as good in bed as Bill?

If she were to say that Bill would always be more exciting, I might die inside. Even so, I was determined to walk away, divorce, and not look back. But the thought of really losing her was terrifying.

I braced myself for her answer. I prayed she'd be honest.

Mary thought for a moment. "Pete, I didn't start with Bill because I was unsatisfied with you, believe me. It was still a mistake. I know that now. But Bill wasn't a stranger I could walk away from. You and Bill were so close, sharing everything, and he's always here. He'd flirt with me and wink at me to make me smile, and you approved that we were so close. When we started our fling, when he'd stop by when you were gone, it was like he was the alter ego of you, your secret identity. It felt like a naughty game, then..." She exhaled, then looked at me directly.

She smiled, "Pete, husband, it's always been better, more intense, more moving when you're in love. I think I forgot that somehow."

I looked into her deep, brown eyes. I remember the first time I'd done that. That night I fell in love with her. Without saying a word, her eyes told me she loved me, and I swore to dedicate my life to her for even one kiss. Those feelings welled up inside me again, more powerful than my hurt, my jealousy.

She took my hand. "Let me show you..."

*****

She pulled me to our bedroom. At first, it wasn't easy as I was still angry and hurt. We tried some foreplay and attempts at affection. Oddly, I was afraid of being perceived as a copy of her lover, or maybe her lust for me wasn't genuine. But we both kept at it, gently kissing, touching, stimulating, relearning, and rediscovering each other.

Then there was a moment when our arousal was at its peak. I wanted her so badly, suddenly I got past my anxiety, and she must have wanted me too, as she unleashed her unbridled lust on me. Once the dam broke, a mighty torrent of genuine emotion between us washed away the stains of uncertainty and mistrust, leaving us both vulnerable and reborn. It was a liberating, empowering feeling. We lost all track of time, driven like sexual zealots. I have no idea how many times we each climaxed only to start again; my mind was in a fog. I was vaguely aware of it getting dark outside, but we were each relentless in our lust.

Eventually, simple exhaustion seemed to slow us down to normal speed. Even then, it felt remarkable.

"Oh my god, you're still so hard!" she gasped. "So thick! Mmm, yes, such a beautiful cock." She ran her fingers over it, admiring its length and girth, and reached below and gently cupped my balls.

"Suck it," I said, grabbing the back of her head with both hands and stuffing my cock in her wet mouth until she gagged. I began to thrust, slowly pulling out almost all the way so she could gasp and gulp in the air, then pushing in as deeply as I could. I did that over and over until I felt the beginning of a climax. Then I pulled my cock all the way out and slapped her tongue and mouth with it, splashing saliva over her face.

"Oh, baby, your sweet mouth feels good," I said, dragging the shiny wet tip of my cock across her lips, before driving it home again.

"Stud! My pussy is so wet," she gasped, rubbing my stiff cock over her face. "Stick your beautiful cock into my hot pussy!" she begged.

"Oh, baby, I'll fuck you deeper and harder than ever before, don't worry. That hot little pussy is mine now!" I told her. I pushed her head back and stood over her face.

"Now lick my sweaty balls, baby," I said, extending my tease, and lowering myself onto her face. She eagerly tongued and nibbled my nut sack, taking one ball gently into her mouth, then lifting my sack up onto her face and licking and biting the skin of my taint. It was driving me wild.

"That's it, baby! Eat my taint! Bite it like you're starving!" I demanded. Mary doubled her efforts, even reaching the edge of my asshole with her tongue, blowing my mind.

I pulled back and returned to fucking her throat deeply, first pulling all the way out, long strands of drool running out of her open mouth and down her chin, dripping onto her tits. Then pushing my cock forward, shoving it all the way back down her throat. I could feel her nose against my abdomen, her tongue licking away at my balls each time I pushed my shaft deep into her mouth.

Mary pulled back again, gasping for air. She licked the pre-cum from the tip of my cock, sucking the tip greedily.

Her oral skills had my climax bubble up quickly, but I had other plans. I lifted her up and roughly threw her down on the bed on her stomach, kicking her legs apart.

"Are you ready to be fucked, baby?" I teased.

"God yes, lover!" she screamed, "Fuck me, you bad boy!"

I knelt between her knees, pinning her arms over her head on the bed. I leaned forward and slid my cock between her ass cheeks, feeling the smoothness and softness of her skin against my sensitive mushroom tip. I spread her cheeks and used my cock to spread the wetness from her pussy up over her pink asshole, then down again.

"Are you ready? Do you want it, kitten? Let me hear you say it," I taunted.

"Fuck yeah, lover boy! I need that big, hard cock. Give it all to me!" she begged. I angled my cock towards her ready pussy and rotated my hips forward, my fat cockhead disappearing in her silky cunt.

"Oooh, yes!" she moaned. For a minute we stayed like that, my dick teasing her entrance.

"How does that feel, babe?" I asked.

"I don't remember it being so big, cowboy," she answered. "Slowly! Give me a moment to get used to it," she pleaded.

I finally began to thrust slowly and deeply, as deep as possible from this position. Mary moaned and wiggled her ass.

"Do you want me deeper, babe?" I asked.

"Oh, god, yes!!" she begged. I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under her hips, raising her ass higher and exposing her cunt even more.

"Fuck, baby! Your pussy is so wet. Fuck!" I told her, honestly feeling the best pussy ever.

"Oh god yeah, fuck me please, fuck me," she moaned. I was eager to oblige. I felt like I was 18 again--the old passion, the thrill was there.

"Oh fuck!" she cried out, "I'm gonna come, oh my god!" Her body began to writhe, and I responded by increasing my pounding her pussy even harder.

"Oh yeah, baby, come hard all over my cock!" I saw her eyes roll back in their sockets and heard a low moan, almost a growl, emanate from deep inside of her. She finally climaxed, yelling and moaning and thrashing, her entire body completely out of control as if possessed.

"Oh god, oh god, oh my fucking god," she breathed out as she slowly regained her surroundings, a glazed look in her eye. "Oh fuck yeah, work that fucking cock. I want you to explode inside me! Fill me with your cum!" she begged.

I knew I was close too and let myself climax with her. I was breathing heavily, completely lost in the intense pleasurable sensation. When my orgasm exploded, I let out a loud, animal-like growl, shaking, pumping her pussy full, until I collapsed on top of her, still shaking.

"Oh fuck," I said. "Oh, holy fuck..."

"Oh my god, that was intense," she agreed, trying to catch her breath. "That was incredible! I think I saw stars. I've never felt so much cum in my pussy before." She quipped, then, more seriously, "I've never felt so satisfied..." Then looking at me, she added, "So much in love."

I reached down and took her face and head in my hands, tenderly. "Jesus H. Christ, that was wonderful; you were unbelievable." I started laughing. "That was the best sex of my life, my sweet, perfect wife."

"You were amazing, Lover," she admitted. "I got so turned on by how aggressive you can be, so domineering, so determined to take me." She leaned forward and took my dick in her hands as if it were hers. "So profound in your fervency... the difference being in love makes." I lay down behind her and took her in his arms, and together we cuddled.

She snuggled closer, nuzzled my neck, and whispered, "I love you, husband."

I kissed her softly. "I love you, wife."

*****

It was odd--we didn't talk about her affair again for weeks. I didn't forgive her, but it was in the past, unimportant anymore. We just spent our time rediscovering each other, living in the moment. I took time off work at first and made sure I was always close by, but then I guess it seemed silly, and we started to rebuild our trust in each other. Bill seemed to have disappeared, and in fact, we didn't seem to miss him.

Eventually, we did talk, though.

"How did it start?" I asked.

"Oh, Pete. Do you really..." she began.

"No secrets, right?" I reminded her.

Mary sighed. You're right." She took a deep breath, resigned to live up to her word.

"OK. Bill told you the truth. As our wedding day approached, I started feeling trapped and unsure. I had a pretty conservative upbringing. You were only my second lover, after my awkward prom date. I guess I panicked at the thought of 'one guy forever,' the future, everything. Bill was there, ever the flirt, perfect for one last sexual experience before I got married. He seemed a safe choice and willing, of course. It was wild! Mmm, so good. I thought I got it out of my system."

"Then, I guess about six months ago, you were traveling, and I had a scare with my car, a road rage thing. Some guy followed me home, so I called Bill for help. I was a nervous wreck, so vulnerable... Bill made me feel safe. I broke our vows the first time."

Mary wrung her hands but continued, "It was a mistake to let it happen. But I convinced myself it was harmless. After all, you two were so close..."

Mary hid her face behind her hands for a minute and then looked me straight in the eye. "Then again, a few weeks later, he had a run-in with his ex-wife and seemed hurt, needing comfort. It started out tender, a sweet, brief tryst, our mutual, secret escape from the real world."

Mary shook her head as if accepting the truth she'd been denying. "After that, it was too easy to use Bill as a distraction from daily life. Each liaison just made the next one easier."

Mary tried to explain their twisted reasoning. "Bill made sure I wasn't neglecting you. He continually asked, 'Are you taking care of Pete? Is he OK?' He was really concerned for you, and somehow that made it seem less like an affair."

Mary exhaled. "But you know Bill! Enough is never enough. He came over more often, every chance he got, and every time I called him, I confess. He started talking dirty and acting more dominant. He would ask about my fantasies, bring up fetishes like sex on a beach, maybe bondage, spanking, sending my nude photos to strangers, and even describe his male friends he'd invite over to gangbang me. Really pushing me out of my comfort zone. I never knew when he was serious, and it was scary sometimes, but... very arousing."

Mary held her head in her hands and went on, "Then, about a month ago, he became convinced you knew and were playing ignorant as part of some adulterous 'Hotwife' role-play, a cuckold game-of-chicken prank, he called it.

"After we'd finished, he'd tell me, 'Go give Pete a thorough fucking for being such a good sport'!"

Mary haltingly added, "And I would." She looked down, ashamed.

She sighed, then continued, "Bill wasn't just an escape from my routine life anymore. I craved the excitement, the way he made me feel. Pete! I was so longing to be that open with you, but I was fearful that bringing up those, well, extreme situations might drive you away, make you think less of me. With Bill, I was free to experiment, uninhibited, to be insatiable. Those feelings were new and exciting for me--I wanted more, and he was eager to indulge me," she admitted. "It got out of control so fast."

"He was so certain that you at least suspected and were somehow OK with the idea," she told me, hesitating now. "He wanted it to continue, and I started to believe it too. I guess that delusion made it easier to believe we weren't hurting you."

"By then, Bill and I were fucking constantly. He became obsessed with seeing how far I'd go, how far he could push things before you were forced to admit you knew we were fucking. It was like a giant practical joke to him until he couldn't take the deception anymore and ripped away the curtain. I didn't know he'd called you, that he had you on the phone until it was too late.

"I despised him for that once I realized the truth. How badly we'd deceived ourselves into thinking this wouldn't hurt you."

"I won't hurt you again," she assured me.

I took her hand, and she took mine.

*****

Then, one night, several weeks later, Mary and I were sitting outside in the driveway, as it was a clear, starry night. We were roasting marshmallows over a fire and dipping them in Old Fashioned cocktails like we used to.

We heard Bill's diesel pickup truck pull up, and it stopped a little before our campfire, the glowing firelight dancing off his tacky chrome grill, and Bill got out. He must have been working out recently, as he seemed bigger than before, muscles all covered with tattoos.

"Pete, I, I didn't mean to... I know I hurt you, and I was careless with Mary's feelings. Things got crazy, and I mean, I really miss you guys. I really want to fix this, somehow, make it up to you..." he started, his tone surprisingly humble.

I stood up next to him, almost nose to nose. I looked into his eyes for a long while, wondering what I should do, if it was even possible for him to make things right, ever.

"Mary, get your camera," I said.

I walked over to Bill's truck. It was unmistakable around town, a custom paint job, every accessory, the works.

"There is one thing, Bill..." I grinned greedily, running my hand along his custom grillwork.

Bill looked worried, for the first time in a long while, I think. That truck was his pride and joy. I wondered if he really would sacrifice it for our friendship if I asked him. Would he give it to me, knowing I'd drive it around town purposefully, for years, a constant reminder that I took something he loved from him?

I looked him in the eyes again, and I saw resignation and sadness. At that moment I knew that truck was mine if I were to ask for it. That's how genuine he was. How desperate to make things right. The Bill we loved. I pretended I was picturing myself in it. Bill looked kind of sick. He reached into his pocket for the keys.

"Strip naked, both of you, you sluts," I said. Mary smiled and quickly tossed her clothes onto a chair.

I looked over at Bill, and he looked puzzled. Mary nodded at him.

"Suck my cock, Bill. Strip naked, get on your knees in front of me, and suck my cock," I said.

Incredulous, he looked at Mary, then back at me, then, shocking us all, shrugged and took off his clothes.

He knelt down in front of me, naked, and took my cock out. Mary started taking pictures.

"Put it in your mouth, cocksucker," I ordered. "Show Mary how hot you are for me, sissy boy!" I taunted him. "Then maybe we'll start to be even, right?"

Bill shook his head, laughing, "That's it? You asshole. Easy-peasy." He actually looked relieved. But then took my cock into his mouth.

*****

Bill stopped by a few weeks later. I opened my garage door to show my revenge. A giant, black and white 4' by 8' poster on my garage wall of Bill, unmistakable tattoos on his arms, and in front of his custom truck, on his knees with my cock in his mouth. You could even see Mary's nude form reflected in the chrome grill.

Our faces were cropped, but Bill's tattoos made him identifiable.

Mary had done the photography. It was stunning, real art. She even signed it.

My prized possession would hang there from now on. He'd see it at every campfire, every barbeque, any time he was nearby.

Mary joined us in the garage, and Bill did a double take: the same picture from the wall was cropped to be more "G" rated but printed on her t-shirt. It was still unmistakable, one man subordinate and on his knees in front of another man. Bill's tattoos were expensive and unique--if you looked closely, it was possible to make them out.

I turned to show him I had the same image on the back of my shirt. I handed Bill an identical shirt of his own.

Bill looked between us, then back at the giant X-rated poster on the wall for anyone to see. He grinned, pulling the shirt on. "You got me. Let's go to dinner!" And started laughing.

Then Mary laughed, and so did I.