“He made love to me many times,” she said. “Many, many times, and I loved every inch of it. I couldn’t help myself.” She was quiet for a while, then she said, “Yes, he fucked your wife, over and over again. It was less making love than just wild fucking, but I loved it. I don’t ever know that I’ve let myself go like that before. I guess I have. He fucked me and I loved it, all of it. Are you okay with it?”
I reached over and took her by the hand. “I’m glad you had such a good time,” I said, meaning it. “Every wife needs a Best Man to fuck every once in a while. Tonight, in bed, you can tell me all about it, every lustful second.” For the rest of the drive, the whole three hours, we didn’t talk and I figured she was thinking about every thrust, every kiss, and every wild sensation in her loins.
Over the years my wife has been to many, many weddings and each time she was in the wedding party I’ve wondered who she fucked, who put his hands under her Matron of Honor dress, and fondled her pussy before and after the ceremony. She always came back happy, in a good mood, and I imagined her being fucked by someone handsome and charming had much to do with it. I wondered who lured her into bed and made the wedding something special that she’d always remember fondly.
Our sex is very good and our times together really great, so why would I risk all over a little sexual fling at a wedding. She can have her romance with a handsome man or two now and then at weddings, and I can put up with it for as long as I have to, because the benefits are amazing and the rewards are certainly worth it. She can be the wedding wench for as long as she wants and I will listen to her tales of lovemaking and raw sex, and I will celebrate her adventures with delight and enthusiasm.