My Wife's Night Out: A Husband's Descent into the Unknown and the Unrelenting Desire

ONE

As I write this my wife is taking a shower. Soon she will get herself ready for her night out with her girlfriends. Once or twice a month they will hit the Kiez, the legendary party and red-light district of our native Hamburg. They'll have some wine, girl talk, exchange the latest rumors, and have a good time. Most of them are in their thirties, like us, and they are all nice middle class women whose idea of doing something crazy is to giggle red-faced and embarrassed because they caught each other eyeing a male stripper's cock in one of the St. Pauli strip clubs that they occasionally went to. Most of them, including my wife, usually just had a few drinks in a regular bar though, and wherever they decided to go, they never did anything rash. Sometimes my wife would come home late and I could smell the wine on her as she walked in the door but I always knew that I could trust her, no matter how many men would be drooling after her. Nothing sexual would ever happen on such a night. Until recently that is. Tonight was different, totally different. Tonight, I'm sure something will happen. I know that because I know her. I knew the old her and I know the new her, the one I created, the one who told me earlier today that she wants to fuck another man tonight.
 
She didn't actually say ”You don't mind, do you?” but she might as well have. She didn't ask for my approval, it was more like an announcement and she didn't use too many words either. In fact, she simply mentioned that there was that guy she fancied and that she'll probably meet him later tonight and bring him home. All she would say was that he used to date one of her friends who'd told my wife that she really missed having sex with him because he'd been giving her the most amazing orgasms. ”So, do you know that guy, I mean, have you actually met him before?”, I stammered. ”I've seen him a couple of times, talked to him twice at a party.” ”That's all? You talked twice and now you're gonna fuck him?” I felt like I needed a drink. ”Well, we are going out first”, she said and made it sound like a big, fat ”duh!?”. I suppose I deserved that. After all it was me who introduced her to extramarital sex. I was the one who had wanted this – well, something like this anyway. Right now, though, I'm not sure what I'm thinking. I'm not sure what I was thinking. I mean, I knew that something like this might happen. I knew that once we made that one step beyond the save boundaries of married life, there would be no turning back and the consequences would be unforeseeable. Well, no shit Sherlock. I cursed to myself quietly and poured myself another large brandy.
 
The water in the shower just stopped running. Now, I know, she's got soap all over her body, her slender, wonderful body, and shampoo in her long, brown hair. Her hands will run over her white skin, which will have a reddish hue now because of the hot water. Soon there may be strange hands all over that body, which used to be mine and mine alone. Her small breasts will disappear in those hands and her nipples will harden between fingers that she has never felt before. And soon these fingers will find her wet pussy and enter her, just like my fingers used to do. Now they just hit this damned key board. I can feel my own cock harden as I imagine this faceless stranger's cock harden. Her thin fingers around his thick cock, all soapy, like her pussy. My mind is racing. Why do I assume that he's got a big dick? Maybe the guy's just got skills. How big will it be? Amazing orgasms? Will they really do it here, in our home? Does she expect me to stay in my study or is she going to introduce him to me? ”Hello, this is what's-his- name, he's going to fuck me now, honey”. Or does she expect me to watch them; do I want to; will he want me to? I hate that I have lost all control over the situation. I used to call the shots, pull the strings, damn it! Now I've no idea what's happening. The water's back on, the sound of the water running and splashing on the bathroom floor pulled me out of my confused thoughts. I take a sip of my drink. Now she'll be washing all that soap off her. A new thought suddenly hit me: Would the new her actually touch herself in a sexual way as she showers? Has her sexual awakening also stirred her interest in her own body?
 
TWO

It wouldn't be fair to say that she used to be prude. No, she liked having sex with me, in fact she often made the first move when she felt like it. But she never masturbated, nor did she ever try anything new in bed. She never gave me blow-jobs but she really liked it when I went down on her, which is quite selfish actually, now that I think about it. Not that I minded, I love licking her pussy. That has always been the best way to make her come too – the only way more often than not. Every time we had sex she would at some point ask me to stop licking and start fucking her. Well, she never used that kind of language but she found nice expressions like ”use your penis”. In fact, she never said much in bed and I could never get her to talk about sexual issues, like fantasies or cravings. She wouldn't even tell me what she would like me to do while we were having sex. She wanted my cock inside her, she liked to ride, since that way she would have an orgasm sometimes, grinding her clit against my cock as she was riding it. I also learned that she seemed to prefer certain positions over others and I could tell when she was enjoying it. When she reached her early thirties her sexual appetite seemed to grow, well, I guess it's true what they say about women and the peak of their sexual development. In any case she wanted it more often, she got aroused easily, was usually very wet by the time I reached her pussy and our sexual routines changed a bit too.
 
I've always enjoyed fucking her with my fingers as I licked her clit. For my wife, however, that seemed to be a borderline pervert thing to do and even though she allowed it, she'd always signal me to stop when I started to really enjoy it. Then she wanted to ”make love” instead. But as she grew older she seemed to enjoy my fingers more and more. She would allow me to put in two at once and sometimes, when I really got her going, I managed to squeeze three fingers into her and by the sound of her moaning she enjoyed having her pussy stretched a little more than before. She also seemed to swallow up my cock more eagerly now whenever our love making intensified. Feeling my orgasm approaching I would pump away wildly, giving it to her hard and yet she would pull me towards her sometimes, trying to feel my cock as deep as possible. All that just reinforced my feeling of being inadequate. My dick just happens to be on the small side, well below average, I think, both in length and girth. And I always felt bad about the notion of not being able to give her what she needed. I loved my wife. She deserved to get decent orgasms. She ought to experience sexual ecstasy; I sensed the desire in her but I felt like I could only wake her appetite and not satisfy it properly. Of course she never complained but after every time we had sex I wondered how she would have liked a bigger man. I kept telling myself that love and sex were inseparable for her, as she had pointed out often enough but still I grew more and more restless.
 
We had reached a critical stage in our sexual relationship. It had been developing into that direction for years, maybe from the very beginning. I've been anxious because of the size of my penis as long as I remember. When we were boys we compared them sometimes and mine would usually be the smallest. Compared to my older brother's proud member mine looked puny. And later, when I became interested in porn, I was just as intimidated by the huge porn cocks as I was attracted to the pretty girls. It was always the combination of both that turned me on: A pretty girl who gets fucked by a big guy; the beauty and the beast. No wonder I started fantasizing about my wife having sex with other men, bigger men, they would always be really well hung guys. I never dared to confront her openly with my fantasies. I was afraid she'd lose all respect for me as a man. Well, I guess that's pretty much what actually happened. But it was a long way before we reached the present situation. I couldn't talk to her about this the way we talked about other things. Even if I had asked her if my dick was big enough for her, what the hell could she have possibly said?
 
Our marriage was a traditional one, despite the fact that we aren't conservative people. Well, my wife comes from a conservative family and she grew up as a nice Christian girl, saving herself for her future husband. So I was, in fact, her first and only lover! My dick was the only one she's ever had. She could not compare it to any other cock, she could not compare me to any other man. I took her innocence and now, after many married years, I took her innocence again - by setting her up for the sexual adventure that lead me to this situation, to my glass of brandy and my computer. And for the first time I don't read but write a sex story. This is what happened:
 
THREE

What led to our turning point, to the point of no return that we've crossed, began quite innocently. Paula, my wife of almost 15 years (we were very young when we got married) had just been on a short holiday with her sister, following a work trip and a visit at her parents' place before that, so we hadn't seen each other for two and a half weeks. I went down to the harbor and waited as the cruise ship reached its final position at the pier. I watched as the ship was secured, the gangways were lowered and a steady stream of passengers started to flow from within and from the higher decks above. It was a warm and sunny day in Hamburg. I watched dozens of women in light summer dresses and thought that summer was a glorious time indeed. Why did they all have to show so much skin? All those shapely legs and deep, inviting cleavages made me realize how horny I was. And then I spotted Paula, stepping off the gangway, following her sister. They noticed me and left the main stream of departing passengers.

For a moment all I could see or think about was Paula. I was thunderstruck by how beautiful my wife looked! A couple of weeks of separation and suddenly I realized just how gorgeous and hot she was! She wore a nice, longish summer dress and a blouse, nothing revealing or sexy, and yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. How could I have become so used to her lovely figure and her pretty face – and those legs, I never realized how sexy her legs were! And man, was that Paula's ass? I was so stunned that it took me a moment to realize that Paula and her sister Ann weren't alone. A couple had followed them as they separated from the crowd and after Paula and I had hugged and kissed each other (quite passionately), she introduced them to me.
 
Their names were Tim and Nina, she said. And they were exchange students from Australia. They were both in their early twenties and by the way they were holding hands and how they looked at each other they were very much in love. So Paula and Ann had met them on the first day of their cruise and by

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THE END