Sunday morning, June 21
I just finished reading Tammy’s version of Saturday night. So much to digest all at one time; Tammy masturbating thinking of Ian? I’d never seen, nor known her to play with herself. Obviously, she hadn’t been the ‘sweet, innocent girl’ I thought I’d taken home to my parents, either, and this date next Friday… how the hell am I going to act ‘normal’ the next week, whatever the hell normal is any more.
And Mia… seriously? I couldn’t even imagine. Of course, yesterday afternoon I wouldn’t have imagined that little ‘five minutes in heaven’ or even their ‘fashion show’! This whole thing is just fucking blowing my mind!
How damned infatuated is Tammy with this guy, Ian, Ian Dixon? That’s what she’d written for his whole name. I had a thought, not that that happens often, but it just popped into my head at that moment. I looked up Ian Dixon on Google. There are lots of Ian Dixons, even a professional football player. I clicked on the Wikipedia Ian Dixon.
Born September 19th, 1989, Sydney Australia. This had to be the guy, thirty-three years old, six years older than Tammy. If she was twenty when she was with him, and I realized I had no idea exactly when this all occurred, how old she’d been, he’d have been twenty-six, an ‘older man’. I stared at his picture, blond hair just to his shoulders, fucking good-looking! No damn wonder Tammy’s so taken with him. Plus, apparently, she likes his ‘sexy’ Australian accent.
I kept reading; he’s an art aficionado, owns a gallery in Sydney, another in London, one in Paris… and for whatever reason, one in Laramie, Wyoming. Why? What the hell does Laramie, Wyoming have in common with Sydney, London, or Paris? Tammy couldn’t have been the reason, he already owned it when she met him. There’s no doubt, this is the guy. From what Wikipedia says, although it doesn’t suggest any numbers, this guy must be ultra-wealthy. Hell, he owns a Rembrandt in his Paris gallery!
I wondered how much of that Tammy knows. The article doesn’t say anything about him being married but just guessing, I’d bet everything I own that there’s more than one ‘Tammy’ in his life, too.
And what’s he doing in Laramie right now? It sounds like he has a lavish home in Sydney, overlooking the Pacific, although there’s no picture, probably because of security.
I’ll admit it scares the shit out of me that a guy like that could have his sights set on my wife. Is it possible he’s here for the express purpose of taking Tammy with him back to Australia? Even a married Tammy? The more I thought about that, the more it scared me. If that is his game, he’s not going to succeed, though. I know how Tammy loves me, she even said as much in her ‘diary’ over and over again. Fucking him is one thing, but sex alone just ain’t gonna cut it to get her to abandon everything and everyone she loves.
If I was to confront her with everything I know and demand she drop any thoughts of this guy, how would she react? My fear is that it would be with anger, probably spreading to both of us, a damned good chance of creating an impenetrable wall between us that could take a long time to heal, if ever. No, it seemed to me that the best course is to do nothing and hope that this little (maybe not so little) infatuation will play itself out, that Ian Dixon will return to Australia, leaving behind a perpetually horny Tammy Clark.
It just was going to take a hell of a lot of nerve. My right brain has been in a losing battle, trying to make me use just an iota of common sense. ‘This is a disaster in the making,’ it’s been trying to tell me, with my left brain saying (and winning the argument), ‘Yeah, but so what, so is jumping out of an airplane into a ten-foot diameter, six-foot deep pool of water.’
And all of that was rambling bullshit! One purpose and one purpose only, to rationalize the fact that I wanted my wife to meet this guy, Ian, Friday. No way in hell was I going to do something to jeopardize that. The right brain can just go back to sleep like it always does.
I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind until Tammy got home with zero success. There was one thing right brain was right about, ‘get the hell out of Tammy’s laptop!’ I felt lucky that I hadn’t already been caught as it had been nearly two hours since she’d left with Mia’s car. I originally had planned on putting everything back within forty minutes, twenty minutes each way.
I had just come back downstairs from getting it put away when Tammy came in through the garage door. By then, I was thinking back to what Tammy had said to Mia, wondering if, in the short future, the unthinkable might come to pass. Damn, that thought just kept bombarding me with the what-ifs.
Which meant that my dick was extremely hard when Tammy came in the house, alone. A few minutes later I was sitting on a dining chair, naked, the recipient of a very enticing and hot Tammy Clark striptease and lap dance just before sinking her wet pussy down onto my steel rod, all of it another very pleasant first. Left brain two (and counting), right brain still zero (but voicing its objections even more vociferously).
The next days at work were something out of the Twilight Zone that I’d never even imagined before. Somehow, designing a street sewer line isn’t exactly the kind of mind-consuming task that I needed to take my mind off my wife and Friday night or Mia, either, for that matter. I was a friggin’ nervous wreck!
Tuesday I couldn’t stand it any longer. At noon I told the Public Works Director, my boss, that I had a splitting headache and needed to go home. It was half true, anyway, I needed to go home. I’d seen Tammy writing on her laptop and needed to see what it was.
June 23
I am scared, nervous, just about every other adjective one can think of. I know what’s going to happen Friday night. I still haven’t thought of an excuse to tell Jason where I’m going, something that won’t make him suspicious.
Speaking of Jason, it seems like he’s been acting a little bit weird lately, or maybe it’s just me with my guilty conscience. It seems like he can’t take his eyes off of me, and we’ve never had the kind of sex as the last few days. I guess a lot of it has been me, like after coming home from taking Mia’s car home to her Sunday, doing a strip tease for my husband, for God’s sake! That’s just not me. And then fucking him like I was some slut stripper in a back room? But, oh my, it was fun!
And then Monday morning, Jason surprised me in the shower, worshipping my body, and we fucked again. When was the last time we did THAT? That one was on him, but I hope we do it a lot more from now on, a LOT of things more. I wonder how many times Ian and I fucked in the shower. I’m guessing that’ll be on his agenda Friday, too, as much as we used to enjoy it. My pussy is soaked right now, just thinking about it.
Ian’s a take-charge kind of guy, and that always used to turn me on so much, not having any idea what we were doing next – like getting finger fucked on the dance floor Saturday. Or back then, when we played strip poker with his friends, went fucking skinny dipping in a public pool for God’s sake (or was it skinny dipping fucking?) Either way, it was fun! It seemed like if his cock wasn’t inside me, he was finger-fucking me. Like Saturday, in public. The man has no decency filter and I fucking love it!
Jason’s always been the opposite, worried about what I might want instead of just taking it, whatever ‘it’ might be. He acts like he loves me flirting with other guys, but I don’t think he’d like it so much if it got out of hand, like it did Saturday night. And one thing for sure, he’d never in a gazillion years finger fuck me in front of a crowd of people. That would be just too weird.
Except now, I’m not so sure of anything with him, and I like that, like fucking me in the shower yesterday morning. GO JASON!
Speaking of Jason, I haven’t dared to bring up my little suggestion with Mia again. I’ve been kind of hoping she’d bring it up. She’s probably afraid to, though, same as me now that we’re both sober and a little more rational. She probably thinks I might not even remember, that I’d get mad or something. Nothing could be further from the truth, I still want to watch Jason and Mia fucking. That little ‘five-minute’ thing Saturday before we left the house was just so fucking hot!
That was the end, quite an eye-opening little essay. Mia again, she hasn’t forgotten it. I still couldn’t wrap my head around that, how it might come about, what it would be like. All I knew was that I hoped to hell that Tammy got the courage to broach it with her again. My dick was hard just thinking about it.
And she thinks I’ve been weird. That’s a bit of a dilemma, if I change that pattern, she’ll get suspicious, and if I stay ‘weird’, she’ll get suspicious, too. I guess the only choice is to stay the course and act like I have been. Besides, it’s damn hard to not watch her, thinking of her with this guy she intends to fuck, and even harder changing our recent ‘fucking’ as she calls it. Don’t wanna change that anyway, I like it! What red-blooded guy with a pulse wouldn’t?
That night I ate my wife’s pussy for the first time since… like everything else we’ve been doing lately, never. I blamed it on her Brazilian wax and it wasn’t stretching the truth much. I’d forgotten what a rush it is, and Tammy was so fucking animated. Then we did it doggy-style when neither of us could stand it any longer. If that raised her suspicion that I knew something was going on, then so be it, it was worth whatever!
Thursday, I feigned a headache again later in the afternoon, right before three. I told Tim that I didn’t know what was going on with me, that I was thinking of going to the doctor since I rarely had headaches.
My dick was already hard when I opened Tammy’s laptop and started reading.
The closer it gets, the colder feet I get. I know I’m going through with this, but the guilt of what I’m doing to Jason is killing me. What if he finds out? And what if I can’t stop after Friday? I’ve been thinking of what Mia started to tell me Saturday and it still doesn’t make any sense to me. She seemed to think there was some revelation in what I’d told her…
Oh shit, that was Tammy’s car that just drove into our garage. What the hell is she doing home so early? It didn’t matter, I closed the document I was in, slammed her laptop shut, and put it back on the coffee table where she’d put it, just in time as Tammy opened the door from the garage.
“You’re home? How come so early?” she asked me.
“Had a bad headache,” I told her, the same lie as I’d told Tim earlier. “Took some aspirins and laid down for a while, it’s a lot better now. What about you, you’re never home this early.” I hoped to hell that I didn’t have a guilty look on my face.
“Doc has a conference in Denver all day tomorrow, he closed the office so he could drive down today before it got too late, there wasn’t any point in me sticking around. It’s going to be closed tomorrow, too, so I’ll have the day off. Thought I’d mentioned that I’d be home early. Thinking about going to dinner with Mia tomorrow night.”
I shrugged, either she hadn’t said anything or I’d blown it off, not even realizing what she’d said. That happened more than I like to admit. It’s something I’m going to correct from now on though, that’s for damn sure. I was just thankful that I’d had at least enough warning to get out of her laptop. That alleged dinner with must be the excuse she thought of.
Tammy fixed us dinner, reheated the lasagna she’d made the night before. I love her homemade lasagna, one of my favorite all-time meals, even the leftovers. Then a bowl of vanilla ice cream for dessert, and we retired to the living room to watch a movie. Actually, it was a Netflix series, ‘MA’ rated, ‘A Sexy Life’. Somehow, slightly raunchy television had invaded our life along with everything else. This was only the second episode and it was sexy as hell, just the kind of thing we’d been enjoying lately.
About five minutes into it, Tammy opened her laptop, like she often does while watching TV. Unlike me, she’s very good at multitasking. About half a minute later, something was definitely wrong, her face suddenly turned white, like every drop of blood had drained, and her body began shaking, almost uncontrollably.
About three seconds later, when I realized what I’d done, the same thing happened to me, the blood draining from my face. I hadn’t had time to hide the fact that I’d opened her document!
She looked over at me, ignoring the TV, her face in total anguish, “You’ve been… you’ve been on my laptop today… you’ve seen…”
I felt my world come instantly crashing down! I’d been invading my wife’s privacy and now she suddenly knew it. “I… I…” Hell, I had no idea what to say.
Suddenly, tears were streaming down Tammy’s face. In all our years, I’d never seen her like this. “You know… Ian… how much?” Her voice was nearly nonexistent, barely legible, nothing but an anguished cry.
“All of it,” I said, realizing how difficult it is to speak when your brain has decided to leave the room, leaving you to your fate, defenseless.
She burst into tears, not just the tears of a moment ago but outright sobbing. I had no idea what to do, I was to blame. The thought that it was her because she’d been discovered, her lover, never even entered what mind I had left. I don’t know how long Tammy sat there sobbing her heart out. I got up and found some tissues, handing them to her. She wiped her face, trying to get herself in control. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” she started, making the effort to speak coherently, “I never… wanted to hurt you…” her tears flowing.
“Hon…” I wanted to say something, comfort her.
“I’ll call him… now… cancel… I just can’t…” reaching for her phone, dropping it on the floor, and she burst into tears again.
I was crying too, afraid for my wife, for our marriage, everything. Damn, damn, damn! I should have listened to myself, and confronted her about Ian a long time ago, as soon as I read his name, even before then, let her know that I knew. Either that or kept the hell out of her privacy.
Another couple excruciating minutes went by with Tammy crying. She wiped her face again, getting herself under control, “Hand me my phone, I’ll call him now, right now, cancel tomorrow, and tell him I can’t ever see him again.”
Tammy’s phone was on the floor, I got up to retrieve it, giving me a few seconds to think, to throw our world for another giant loop. By the time I’d gotten it out from under the couch where it had somehow hidden itself, she’d gotten herself somewhat under control but still tears falling, “No… I don’t want you to call him… don’t cancel. I’ve read all of it, and Mia knew. She was right, Saturday night, she started to tell you… ”
She looked totally confused, “What? What are you talking about?”
“You remember what you told Mia Saturday at the club, then what she said? You’d written it all down.”
“Okay, but I still don’t get it.” At least she was down to just the sniffles.
I rolled my eyes, this had to be the densest girl on the planet. “You told her about your mom, how she had a boyfriend and your dad even liked it. Then that night what happened with us, you and me?”
She thought a minute, “I remember we had pretty incredible sex that night.”
I laughed, “Yeah, we did, didn’t we. You know why?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. “You were turned on, the black nightie, obviously from what your mom had said… I suspect thinking about Ian too, but there was also something else.”
She looked at me, a blank look on her splotchy face. “Remember what you said about your dad? How he knew about her affair, how it turned him on?”
She nodded, “Uhuh, but…”
“Remember earlier that night, you called and asked me for your aunt’s penuche recipe?”
“Uh, yeah, I know it’s good but penuche turns you on that much? I never knew that. Kinky!”
We both got a chuckle out of that one, at least a little bit of Tammy’s sense of humor had returned, good. “I don’t think it was the penuche. But I saw this strangely named document, and out of curiosity I opened it. You’d written it eight days before, the day you ran into an old boyfriend, I guess lover, buying groceries. You reminisced about how hot the guy was, the hot sex you had your last night together… and he gave you his phone number…”
The blood drained from Tammy’s face again, turning it nearly white. “It’s okay,” I told her, “I read what you’d written about your old lover, then you came home and told me about your mom, such a coincidence. It was all I could think about, except not your mom… you and this ex-lover… together, kind of hoping you’d call him. It’s what Mia was trying to tell you, it wasn’t your mom or her affair that had turned me on, it was the thought of you with another guy. Somehow, deep inside, that started me thinking how hot it would be for you to have a lover, like your mom, except it was this guy who you were so hot for. That’s why I was so on fire… and the next night… and the next…”
“Mia didn’t know that I knew anything about Ian but she knew what was keeping me so perpetually turned on, she knew it was thinking of you with a lover. I dunno, maybe she’s been in a relationship like that before. I’m guessing but if she’d had one more minute, that’s what she was going to tell you.”
Tammy sat, staring at me, her mouth agape, acting like she was hardly believing what I’d just said. “You seriously want me to go to his apartment tomorrow night and let him…”
“Fuck you? Yeah, I read how much you want him, how bad he wants you, what he did to you at the club Saturday night, and all of that’s what makes it so hot. A little danger, too. What fun would skydiving be if there wasn’t just a little bit of danger?
Tammy and I fucked that night. The sexy TV show was forgotten and we headed straight to bed. I say ‘bed’ but that’s kind of a misnomer. I told her to think of Ian, and we never made it to the bedroom. We made it three-quarters of the way upstairs when Tammy turned and started on my shirt. I followed suit with her blouse. We left clothes strewn the rest of the way up the stairs, and she was on the floor in the carpeted hall right at the top of the stairs.
Suffice it to say that it was another night to remember!
Left brain; game, set, match!
Friday after work, and I say ‘work’ very loosely, I came home, and Tammy was in the tub. She rarely takes a bath, always a shower. My heart was already pounding, standing outside the door watching her, tits just above the water, nipples already hard, dripping hair, that ‘look’ on her face… I could go on and on.
She saw me watching and put on a little show, splashing water over her tits, a hand between her legs, letting out little moans, then she stood, giving me the view her ex, soon-to-be current lover was soon to see. I nearly came right there!
She was out of the bathroom a little later, wrapped in a large towel, and sat down at her makeup vanity. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched my sexy wife put on her makeup for the man that she’d had the hots for virtually ever since long before we were married; eyeliner, eye shadow, mascara, whatever it is she uses for her cheeks, lip gloss and liner, and a couple other things I have no idea what they are. Watching her doing this for another man was an entirely new experience for me, especially when she turned to me and asked, “How’s it look, think he’ll like it?”
Uhh, duh! All I could do was nod with a whisper, “Yeah, think so!” Tammy was beautiful, stunning, and that was before she even started with her hair or clothes.
She watched herself in the mirror as she brushed out her long, silky, black hair. Then she rummaged in her closet and dug out a skirt and blouse that I’d never seen before. “Bought them last Saturday with Mia, they’re both silk. Feel them, see if you think you’d like them on me. The skirt was maybe ten inches long and both so freakin’ thin and soft. They were just about the sexiest silk outfit I’d ever seen.
She pulled out a pink satin panty and bra set, putting back the bra. “Don’t think I’ll need that, do you? Skirt’s way too short, though, no way to not wear panties.” She pulled up the skirt, then the blouse, and my heart about stopped. That thin camisole she’d bought to go with that blouse last weekend was thick and frumpy in comparison with this blouse. It wasn’t sheer like her blouse last Saturday but so shape-fitting. I was shaking with the jealous, sexual energy surging through me by the time she was dressed and strapping her four-inch heels around her ankles.
She was right about the skirt and panties. Last weekend’s leather skirt was long in comparison. She could barely stand in this one without showing the panties, much less sit.
She finished with a pair of dangling earrings and a matching necklace and bracelet.
When she stood and checked herself out in the mirror, I couldn’t help myself, “Oh, babe,” I said, “you look… just… I don’t even know how to say it, you’d give a dead man an erection.”
She looked at her watch, “Fifteen minutes, I told him I’d be there at seven, gotta get going.” At the garage door she turned, smiled at me, and told me, “I’d love to kiss you, but my lipstick, don’t want to mess it up.”
I stood at the door and watched her get in her car. She turned to me one last time, “Last chance,” she said, “you sure?”
I smiled and pressed the overhead garage door opener and watched her drive away, every pore in my body feeling sick. We hadn’t talked about any kind of curfew when she was expected home, so I anticipated spending the entire night alone. In a perverted way, almost hoping for it.
I went back into the living room, never feeling more alone in my life. My right brain was screaming at me, ‘told ya so, told ya so!’ My left brain countering with, ‘yeah, but this is exactly what we’ve been looking forward to.’
I was too nervous to even think about Tammy’s laptop.
Twenty minutes later, my phone rang and I rushed to answer it. I’d left it on the kitchen counter charging earlier in the day. I looked at it, seeing that it was a video call from Tammy. My hands were shaking when I picked it up and pressed the ‘accept call’ icon. She was in her car, just sitting, not saying a word, holding her phone’s camera on her face. I could tell how nervous she was. After maybe a minute, I heard her say very softly, mostly to herself, “I’m going to do it.”
She got out of the car and was holding her phone, not pointing it at anything, just letting it swing as she walked. She was in a parking lot, lots of cars. I finally saw a sign, ‘Hilton Garden Inn’. She went through the swinging door into a fairly small, but nice lobby. She stopped, looked around, then began walking again, looking unsure where she was going, down a short hall, and I realized where, seeing the ladies’ room sign.
She went inside and set the phone down on the lavatory counter, leaning it against the wall so that it was directed toward herself. She put her little clutch purse on the counter and took out her lipstick, and I watched as she looked in the mirror and dabbed lipstick on her already painted lips, rubbing her lips together sexily like she does. She put it back and took out her perfume, spraying it in those luscious places to give her that sexy, feminine scent; between her breasts, behind her ears, her wrists, back of her neck after lifting her hair off her neck, even in her belly button.
Watching this was making me so freakin’ hard with anticipation! I was just hoping she didn’t disconnect the call.
Then, oh fuck, I almost died on the spot… she slipped off her panties, struggling to get them over her heels, and tucked them in her purse. My heart was racing, at least a thousand beats a minute. She’d just told me only minutes before that her skirt was way too short.
She picked up her phone again, left the room, and found the elevator, pushing the fourth-floor button.
About half a minute later, she was gently knocking on the door of room 418.
Her only words spoken the whole time were, “I’m going to do it.” I expected to be disconnected but she left the phone on as the door opened, she stepped inside, and the guy I’d seen on Wikipedia stood right in front of her.
Tammy was holding her phone in her hand, camera lens pointing out, not trying to get a good video, just holding it. I heard “Babe” as his hand went to her blouse – and ripped the buttons off, pulling it open. I heard Tammy’s screech, “Ian!” followed by a long, earthy moan, his lips on hers.
She dropped the phone on the floor, thankfully still with the lens pointing up, I could see the mad rush of clothing, Ian dropping his pants and undies, a massive prick, and him pushing Tammy’s legs apart, her skirt up, and spearing her, sinking inside her, no prelude, no nothing, I’m not even going to try to guesstimate how big he was, just fucking big and fat! And there was no ‘gradual’. She’d obviously been wet, no doubt building inside her all afternoon.
There were simultaneous male and female moans as Tammy’s legs wrapped around his waist, and just like that, this guy was fucking my wife, pounding her against his room’s door. She hadn’t taken a single step more than necessary to close it.
I watched and listened with a combination of horror and fascination. The noises coming from Tammy were inhuman; grunts, screeches, an occasional ‘Ohhh!” I couldn’t see well as the phone was on the floor right underneath them but what I could see… just holy shit times ten! This guy was fucking my wife like she’d never been fucked before, at least from me.
Tammy’s screams kept getting louder, more hysterical. I wished I could see her face but I couldn’t, nothing except that cock driving in and out of her.
She screamed and he never slowed. My cock, inside my pants, exploded in its massive orgasm, bending me over, sapping my strength. I’d never witnessed or even imagined anything like what was unfolding inside that door. No damned wonder Tammy took off her panties before going inside, she must have known.
Many of her words in her diary came back to haunt me, her fears of not being able to stop, becoming addicted to him. Last night, today, she never warned me what she knew it would be like.
Finally, mercifully, he roared, thrust himself deep inside my wife, deeper than I have ever been, I’m sure, another loud grunt, his orgasm taking over; a steady, loud wail coming from Tammy.
I feared for my sanity! Would she ever be satisfied by a mere mortal again?
And it was over, their bodies trembling, cum trickling down her legs. With his cock still inside her, he carried her outside the range of her phone’s lens. The moaning and the wailing gradually grew quieter but never stopped completely, the video on my phone nothing more than an ongoing picture of the upper part of his door and the ceiling.
Those final words of her diary from Saturday night came back to me, ‘Going to fuck you, suck your tits, eat your pussy all night.’
I felt like I was falling into a black hole, from which there was no return, no redemption, only blackness slowly pulling me apart. Nothing had prepared me for the excruciating pain! I rushed to the bathroom, collapsed to my knees, and puked my guts out, my body shaking uncontrollably; Right brain screaming, ‘Toldjaso toldjaso!’
I undressed and numbly climbed into bed naked, that scene, my wife being fucked just inside the door, replaying itself in my mind, again and again, causing a pain in my stomach, feeling sick; at the same time, my dick growing harder. I knew there would be no sleep, no relief that night.
The next hours were every bit as excruciating as I’d imagined, more.
I heard the overhead door, then the door into the house from the garage, and looked at my watch, 1:47 am. They’d been fucking for over six hours!
My wife stood inside our bedroom door, looking nothing like the woman who’d left our house hours before. They say a well fucked woman has a glow about her, and Tammy had been no exception, particularly the last week-plus. But this was entirely different. I can’t explain it, this woman was ALIVE with her raw sexuality, the adrenaline still flowing through her, clutching her torn blouse to her.
“You saw?” were her only words.
I numbly nodded, “You never warned me… what it would be like… you knew.”
“You were warned, you read,” she answered, “yes, I knew, it was what it’s always been like with him, why I was so afraid, why I wanted him so badly. You wanted me to, too.”
“I can’t… fuck you like…”
“And I don’t ever want you to fuck me like he does. II want you to fuck me, make love to me like you, only you.”
She came to me then, dropping her blouse and skirt, completely naked, with copious amounts of dried cum on her inner thighs. She saw my hard-on, “I can’t,” she said, “too sore,” and dropped to her knees, taking me in her mouth. She’d barely begun, I can’t even begin to describe… when the orgasm ripped through my body like an out-of-control freight train on a rampage. I collapsed on the floor with her, pulling her the rest of the way down, lying on the floor, trying to breathe. Tammy had NEVER…
It was several minutes later before I was able to even sit up. We got up and climbed into bed, kissing, the taste of my cum strong in Tammy’s mouth. She’d swallowed it, all except a little dripping down the corners of her mouth. I hadn’t even had time to warn her. “I love you, you’re the only one… ever,” she told me.