To Forsake All Others Ch. 02

"I almost forgot," she said sheepishly. "I promised Ben a video."

Rachel insisted she never wanted to see me with another woman – even in a photo or video. "The brain is the greatest sex organ in the human body," she once told me. "I'd rather let my imagination fill in the gaps than actually see it." Men are different, though. We tend to be more visual by nature. Colleen had mentioned that Ben really wanted to be in the room with us to witness this occasion first-hand. Thankfully, she refused. The video was their compromise.

She handed me her cellphone, and I pressed the record button as she continued her work. She became more animated at this point and worked my pole like a porn star. She made dramatic slurping and moaning sounds, and would occasionally glance at the phone as if winking to her husband on the other side. I could only imagine what he would think when he later watched it.

After a minute or so, she gave me the signal that I had recorded enough of the action.

"Thanks for doing that," she said, taking the cellphone from me. "Next time, he wants me to bring our laptop and watch over the webcam."

The thought of being watched while having sex by anyone – never mind the woman's husband – made me extremely uncomfortable.

She rose to her feet and removed her skirt. I led her to the bed and lowered her to the mattress, taking a position between her legs. I removed her panties, and was surprised to see a rather large patch of dark pubic hair. Years earlier, Rachel had made the decision to keep her pubic area cleanly shaved or waxed. I always enjoyed licking her pussy, and appreciated not having to deal with all that hair getting in the way.

I kissed my way along Colleen's bulky thighs and moved the hair aside so that I could lick along her labia and tease her clit. She seemed to enjoy what I was doing, judging by her moaning and body language. The taste and scent of her pussy was so foreign to me, it took me a moment to grow used to it. I eventually incorporated a couple of fingers, and employed several different techniques, but I couldn't tell what she did or didn't like, and was too embarrassed to ask.

After a while, my neck became stiff and my tongue muscles ached. I could feel pubic hairs in my teeth and at the back of my throat. I resigned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to be able to bring her to orgasm in that way. I kissed my way up her soft body and tasted her lips. She spread her legs and reached down to guide my cock inside her, only to discover that I had lost my erection.

"Let me take care of that for you," she offered.

She nudged me onto my back and shifted to the foot of the bed. I placed my forearm over my eyes and tried to concentrate as her warm mouth enveloped my cock once again. I tried to clear my thoughts and enjoy the sensation, but she was doing it all wrong. She was moving too quickly, was positioned from a side angle that I didn't enjoy, and used her hands too much. I never thought there was such a thing as a "bad blowjob," but she was proving me wrong.

After several minutes of frantic effort, I took her by the shoulders and raised her back to the head of the bed.

"What's wrong?" she asked. She looked as though she were about to cry.

"Nothing," I said. "It felt really good. I just...I guess I'm just a little nervous. I haven't been with anyone but Rachel for almost twenty years."

"I know," she said. "I'm nervous, too. It's okay. Why don't we just lie here for a while and watch some TV? The night is still young. We have plenty of time."

I reached for the remote and turned on the television. There was nothing on except news, sports, and an old sitcom. I opted for the sitcom. We propped up all the pillows against the headboard. I wrapped my arm around her, and she rested her head on my chest. We watched an entire half hour sitcom without speaking a word to each other.

I hardly paid attention to the program we were watching, as my mind was cluttered with thoughts. What would I tell Rachel about this night? She would be disappointed to know the truth. More than anything, she wanted to hear how hot I was for this woman, how I came harder than I've ever come before, and how Colleen experienced multiple orgasms by my skilled hands, tongue, and cock. That was Rachel's fantasy. The reality, I discovered, was that we just didn't seem to be sexually compatible. Sex with a stranger could be exciting, I imagined, but it could also be awkward and embarrassing.

Colleen caressed my chest. Her hand slowly moved under the sheets and gently stroked my flaccid member. "Do you want to try again?" she asked. I could see the anxiety in her eyes. She had built such high expectations for this night, and had anticipated it for so long. I felt as though I had disappointed not only her, but Ben and Rachel as well. I turned and kissed her gently, again attempting to discard all my thoughts and simply live in the moment.

"Is there something you want to do?" she asked. "Something different? Something that maybe Rachel can't or won't do for you?"

I had to admit, the question intrigued me. I searched my mind, and a smile crossed my face when the idea came to me. "Did you bring any lube?"

Colleen looked frightened. "You're not thinking about..."

"No, no," I said with a laugh. "I'm not into that."

She heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank god! I regretted asking that question for a minute!" She reached into her purse on the nightstand and handed me a small tube of lube. "I don't normally use it, but brought it just in case you were...you know...bigger than usual."

I smiled and positioned her on her back. I straddled her chest and applied the lube to my still-flaccid member. I placed it between her breasts, and she instantly understood what it was that I wanted. I slid my cock between her breasts, and she complied by squeezing them together, forming a tighter seal. Back and forth I stroked myself between her massive mounds.

It was exciting, as it was a new experience for me. I had never actually tit-fucked a woman before, as most of the women I dated before Rachel were small-chested. Rachel's tits weren't exactly small, but they weren't large enough to do what I was doing at that moment. After only a short while, I was pleased to discover that my dick had fully recovered. Colleen seemed to notice as well.

"Fuck me," she said. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were pleading.

I wasted no time and slid down the bed, positioning myself between her legs. We had discussed using protection during our second date, and decided it wasn't necessary. Neither of us had been with another person in nearly two decades, and I had had a vasectomy. The thought of going "bareback" and filling her with my seed was something that excited both us and our partners.

She gasped when I entered her, and her eyes grew wide. The titty-fucking must have excited her as much as it excited me, because her pussy was extremely slick. My cock slid right in, and I buried its full length inside her, causing her to moan and lock my hips in place with her hands.

"Oh my god, you're so fucking big," she said. "So big and hard."

I couldn't tell if she meant it or if that was just her standard sex talk. Either way, I felt like a stud. My big, hard dick was plowing into another man's wife, and I felt like a conqueror. The harder I fucked her, and the louder she moaned, the more powerful I felt. I locked her knees in place with my elbows and spread her legs as wide as they would stretch. The sound of slapping flesh and wetness drowned out the sounds from the television. I couldn't help but assume that our neighbors could hear it all, and that only added to the excitement of the moment.

Her moaning turned to a strange sort of yelping, like a plea to fuck her even harder and faster. I fucked her as hard as I could, desperately trying to become the forbidden stud she needed me to be. I wanted her to go home and tell her husband that she had been fucked so well, and so hard, that she would be walking funny for a week. I wanted to leave my mark on her, to let her husband know that his wife had been properly used, just as he wanted – and just as Rachel wanted.

I felt myself reach the pinnacle and then...the sensation slowly subsided. My muscles ached from pounding her so hard for so long. Sweat dripped from my forehead, and my chest heaved as I gasped for air. My cock was still hard, but I could feel it becoming soft. I knew I would not be finishing inside her, but I felt that if I lasted only a bit longer, she would finish, and my sexual prowess would be vindicated.

I thrust myself into her for as long as I could until my body simply quit. With my muscles aching and my lungs burning, I softly apologized and rolled off of her. We lay side by side, staring at the ceiling, gasping for breath.

I didn't need to ask if she finished. I knew she didn't. She got up to use the bathroom, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I pictured the expression on Rachel's face when we parted ways earlier that day. It reminded me of the expression I would see when we would give the kids a particularly special Christmas gift. I almost enjoyed watching her expression more than the kids'. I couldn't help but feel that I had let her down.

Colleen returned to the bed, and we chatted softly while watching television. I don't even recall what we talked about, as I hardly paid attention. We each showered and bid each other good-bye. I promised to keep in touch, but I never did reach out to her, and never heard from her again. I knew that it was an empty promise when I made it. I had already made up my mind.

During the long ride home, I turned the radio off so that I could collect my thoughts. I rehearsed what I would say to Rachel over and over until I found just the right words in just the right order. I knew that she would be disappointed, but I couldn't help but state the truth. That truth was that she was the only woman I wanted in my life.

Perhaps I would try it again someday, I would tell her. If I met the right woman in the right circumstance, and if our relationship grew organically, maybe I would consider sleeping with her. Colleen was a lovely woman, had a pleasant personality, and was reasonably attractive, but I just didn't feel a connection with her. I surprised myself that it mattered. I had slept with several women before I met Rachel, and a couple of them were one-night stands. I felt nothing for them, emotionally, yet I had no problem enjoying myself. Then again, I was a younger man back then.

As expected, Rachel was waiting for me when I walked through the door, despite the late hour. She attacked me right there in the living room. I didn't last more than a few minutes. It's funny how that happens.

Afterward, while lying in our bed, I found myself repeating that chilling sentence: "I need to tell you something." In my well-rehearsed speech, I told her everything that happened that night, and everything that I was feeling at that moment. As expected, she was disappointed, but understood and respected my feelings.

"Maybe you just need to try it again with a different woman," she suggested.

"Maybe someday," I assured her, "but not any time soon." The thought of enduring another "getting to know you" phase with another strange woman, dating again, acting on my best behavior, trying my best to be charming...it all seemed too exhausting to even consider.

"I'm sorry, honey," I said to her. She looked as though she had been deflated.

"It's okay," she assured me. "It means a lot to me that you even tried. I know you were uncomfortable with it, but I figured you would learn to enjoy it. At the end of the day, it's just a fantasy of mine. It doesn't define who I am or change who we are. I can live without it."

I felt terrible by not allowing her to indulge in this particular fantasy. I couldn't imagine any fantasy that she would deny me. I promised her that I would consider it again someday, and that seemed to make her happy. She shared with me her ultimate fantasy that night. After the children move out of our house and we retire, she would like to find another woman to live in our home. The three of us would live together, and each night, I would choose which bed to sleep in. I told her I would consider it. I have to admit, the thought does intrigue me.

It's odd that a moment's indiscretion in the front seat of a car on a warm summer night led to greater insight into my wife's personality, a stronger connection between the two of us, and a greater appreciation for everything that I have. Our sex life has since returned to the boring and mundane, once per week, nighttime routine that most married couples endure. We do housework, go grocery shopping, care for the kids, do yardwork, and repeat our monotonous and predictable routines day after day, and week after week. And I couldn't be happier.