Turnabout Pt. 12


Turnabout — Part 12

Her “Date Night” turns into a (sleepless) sleep-over… and hubby doesn’t fare much better.


“I’M IN LOVE!!!”

Marie’s gleeful shouting startled me awake and set my pulse racing.

However, the pure enthusiasm behind that proclamation sent me into a panic.

The sun shining into the bedroom made it clear that my wife had spent the entire night with her new lover. Even before my eyes had fully adjusted to the brightness of my surroundings, I could tell Marie was standing next to me, and she was still wearing her slinky black dress. I also noticed that all traces of makeup had been removed.

While my wife had been out sharing herself with a stranger, I was left home alone to suffer through a fitful night’s sleep. Only to be awakened by her stating that she was in love — shouting it out as if announcing it to the world — my mind immediately assumed the worst. My inner voice cried out, [What have I done? I’ve lost my wife to another man, that’s what. This is all my fault! If only I hadn’t told her that I’d accept it if she had sex with someone else. Hell! I even encouraged it. I never considered that it could lead to breaking up our marriage.]

My eyes peered into hers, sure that I’d see nothing but pity and disdain. But before I could beg her to reconsider leaving me for this other man, she locked her moist lips to mine. In a flash, our tongues jousted and battled in fierce competition. I had to show my wife just how much I loved her. How much I desperately needed her.

Suddenly, Marie broke the kiss, giving me a chance to express my feelings. “Babe, I…”

Pressed a finger to my lips, Marie cut me off. “Shhh! Don’t say anything. Not one word.” With that, she flipped the covers off of me, leaving me exposed and naked. Naked except for the panties I’d been instructed to be wearing when she returned. Naturally, fearing our marriage was over, my dick had shriveled to nothing more than a nub. Which, of course, was clearly visible through the extra sheer material.

Marie’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before saying, “Yep. Those panties are perfect for someone with such a tiny dick.” It wasn’t that long ago when Marie first began taking potshots at my manhood and the lack thereof. To further drive home her point, she added. “He looks so cute and innocent while he’s asleep.” Then, like pouring salt on a wound, she said, “Your dick could never measure up to Jason’s cock. I mean, that man has a REAL COCK!” Marie was almost swooning. “And he knows how to use it too.”

[That’s it.] Now more than ever, I was convinced I’d lost her for good. [No way can I compete with this guy. Not down there anyway.]

Indeed, her words were intended to put me in my place. To remind me of how genetically deficient I was as a man. Only, it’s as if my dick hears when degrading comments are made about him. Like every time before, no matter the putdown, my little man gets aroused and begins to grow. Although still tucked up inside my recesses, I could feel my scrotum tightening around my balls. The stirrings of my groin made Marie smile even more. “Oh, look, I guess I woke him up,” she said with a chuckle. “He really enjoys being made fun of.”

As blood flowed into my dick, my hips involuntarily began moving. My growing erection was caught in the fabric of the panties, unable to fully extend. Was it out of pity for her husband’s discomfort or interest in seeing once again just how small my hard-on was compared to the other men she’d been with? Either way, Marie used her fingers to adjust my erection so it could fully inflate and grow within the panties. “Erect or flaccid, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing you and your dick in panties.”

Crawling up on top of me, she said, “And we both know that you like wearing panties too. Which is why you will be wearing panties from now on. RIGHT???”

I would have agreed to just about anything to preserve my marriage. “Yes, babe. Whatever you want.” Her delight in hearing me agree to her command, confirming that she had me entirely under her control, showed brightly across her face. And with that, she gave another quick but passionate kiss. As we kissed, I sensed that she had lifted the back of her dress to fetch something from between her legs. My mind instantly recalled the previous night when she had made a similar move. [Oh no! Not another cum-filled condom.]

However, this time, when she broke our kiss, she rolled off of me and onto the bed next to me. “Breakfast is ready. Hot and juicy. Just the way you like it.”

And just that fast, all other worries were shoved aside. Concerns over our marital future, of wearing panties full-time, whether she intended to continue fucking other men, even the possibility of her becoming pregnant — none of it mattered. Instead, there was only one thing my brain was focused on: CREAMPIE!

In a flash, I was out of bed, kneeling at the foot of the bed between my wife’s legs. The scent of post-coital Maltepe Escort sex filled my nostrils.

Without pausing to look, I was about to dive in when Marie shouted. “WAIT!” The forcefulness of her command left me puzzled. Looking up to her face for an explanation revealed she was holding out her phone to me. “Take a picture. I want to see what it looks like.” This was an odd request. But taking her phone from her hand, I prepared to do what she asked.

It turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I had viewed enough of my own creampies before consuming them to know what those looked like. This, THIS creampie was visually oh so different.

First off, I had yet to have the opportunity to fuck my wife since her recent encounter with the razor blade. So that alone was enough of a difference between this creampie and those I’d made beforehand. What lay before me now and put on full display was all new to me. I saw just how bright pink and puffy her entire pubic area was. Her vagina was still partially dilated. Obviously, she had been stretched by Mister Studly to accommodate his much thicker girth. In the middle of that opening, a small ball of white cream was visible and working its way towards the light. No sooner had I snapped a picture when the creamy goo had inched closer to the mouth of her pussy. Mesmerized, I continued taking pictures.

That was until an extra thick wad of cum began to slide down her crack and onto the sheets. Breakfast was being served, fresh and hot. But it wouldn’t stay that way for long. I placed the phone on Marie’s belly and thrust my face between her legs. I was famished, and this was the sustenance I needed. My lips were sealed onto her puffy, hairless cunt while my tongue worked its way into her womanhood.

Like a ravenous animal, I sucked, slurped, and swallowed. Gob after delicious gob of ultra-thick cum slid across my tongue and down my throat.

This was, by far, the best creampie I had ever eaten. My creampies had never been anything like this. The cum filling of this creampie was incredibly thick and gooey. Its taste was heavenly. A perfect mix of sweet and salty. And it just kept on flowing, from my wife’s insides, into mine.

No, I still didn’t know what the future held for us as a couple. But at that moment, I felt so incredibly fortunate that my wife and I were having this shared experience. It goes without saying that by swallowing another man’s semen from her cunt created a unique bond between us, both sexual and emotional. By swallowing this life-giving cream, the semen of another man, flowing from the depths of my wife’s vagina, somehow made it the most beautiful and wondrous experience we could ever shared in.

Marie’s one-night stand had certainly paid off handsomely.

Before Marie had come home, my night could best be symbolized as watching a crock-pot with its contents simmering and bubbling. Each carefully selected ingredient adding its own nuanced characteristics to the slow-forming stew. With each minute that passed, anticipation and frustration grew while awaiting the final results of this recipe. True, this concoction began as my idea, making it my creation. All that remained to be experienced was the resulting broth. The question at hand was, would it be satisfying to both body and soul? Would this be the desired elixir for achieving marital nirvana? Only time, patience, and nature will reveal if the recipe was good or bad.

While I waited, I knew that at that very moment, my wonderful wife was having, for lack of a better term, “a date” with another man. A man I had never met and knew very little about. Yet, I was the one who had encouraged her to go on this date.

I had long been convinced that this was something that I owed her. If you only knew the depth of my love for my wife and the faith I had in our marriage. Then you might begin to understand my determination to seek ways of providing additional joy to her life. Marie is not a materialistic person. Her greatest joys come from emotional and physical connections. The years of devotion she has shown to me and our relationship only proves this to be true. If I was sure of anything, it was this: Our marriage would not only survive her infidelity, it would be strengthened by it.

My belief in this was so strong that I had spent years teasing and taunting her to put aside her staunch moral beliefs. For her to open her mind enough to at least consider the possibility of having sex with someone other than me. But all along, Marie dismissed those notions.

It wasn’t until a chance encounter with a nearly forgotten lover from her past that finally got my wife to break her vows of absolute marital monogamy. That single reunion of noncommittal sex sparked a fire within her that hadn’t been seen since the birth of our daughter. Marie suddenly became sexually adventuresome again.

It seems that the pleasure Marie received from that fling — along with my utter lack of resentment or jealousy over her infidelity — Anadolu Yakası Escort caused my wife to re-examine her earlier reluctance to venture outside of our marriage. That little liaison may have provided the impetus my wife needed to finally begin considering the possible benefits of opening up our relationship.

Her own inner devil must have been telling her that maybe she should go for it. To find others to help satisfy her sexual needs. The needs her husband was physically unable to deliver on.

It still took a couple more months, but the devil finally won out.

And that explains why I spent the night alone while my wife was out on a date with another man. The sole objective of this date was for Marie to enjoy no strings attached sex. Uninhibited, unrestricted, and unlimited sex.

Granted, this had been attempted the night before. She even claimed to have enjoyed the experience. But being that it took place in the cramped cab of a long-hauler’s sleeper with a trucker who insisted on using condoms, the evening had not lived up to what either of us had envisioned.

With luck, tonight, my wife would get every bit of what she needed. To get fucked and fucked good. Wet, sloppy, unapologetic sex.

That was the plan anyway. Ultimately though, deep down, I knew that if this whole idea for her to date others were to turn out to have been a mistake, the only one to blame for it would be me. It would mean that I had mixed in some bad ingredients to my recipe. But even if that were to happen, and I remained confident it wouldn’t, but if it did, we would still carry on. Of that I was sure.

With all the ups and downs that come along throughout a decade-long marriage, our love and dedication to each other had only improved and flourished. We shared a common determination to preserve all we had accomplished and enjoyed together. Always persevering through the rough patches.

Had I not been so certain of this, I never could have survived the night.

Instead, my confidence was such that I had even rented a motel room for this lascivious act to take place.

Well, truth be told, when I rented that room, it was going to be me keeping Marie company for the night. At least that’s what I thought as I set things up for a special married couple’s ‘date night’ of childless fun. However, as I was making these preparations, I was unaware that my wife was already planning for her next date. A date, not with me, but with a different man altogether. It would be this all-new lover taking my wife into the motel room and finding mints on the pillows and a chilled bottle of wine.

As a reminder, almost from the time we married, Marie had stopped using any form of birth control due to complications and allergic reactions. Then, soon after our daughter was born, medical reasons forced me to get a vasectomy. But as a monogamous couple, my sterility suddenly freed us for more experimental sex. All without concerning ourselves with her ovulation cycles. And as a result, our sex life and its frequency did pick up somewhat. Not to the levels enjoyed before giving birth. But still, improved.

So what brought about my wife’s sudden departure from following society’s dictatorial norms of a husband and wife maintaining a strictly monogamous relationship? And my willingness to accept it? Well, it all began as a weird, kinky idea that popped into my head soon after we married. While deeply involved in an intense round of love-making with my new bride, the image of a faceless man having sex with her flashed before my mind’s eye. Needless to say, I was shocked and somewhat threatened by this vision.

But much to my surprise, there was also something oddly erotic about the idea of my wife having ravenous sex with someone other than me.

Before I had even proposed to Marie, she would tell me bits and pieces about her other boyfriends. It always turned me on hearing whether this one or that one was good in bed or not.

Anyway, as the weeks and months passed, that imaginary vision had developed into little movies. Over time, the movies would come to mind more and more frequently. I never knew when or had any control over it. We could be making love, or possibly while I was masturbating in the shower. But picturing Marie in the throws of orgasmic pleasures brought on by a stranger gradually became an obsession.

Just after our second anniversary, the recurrence of those visions sharply increased. Marie had become pregnant, and as her belly expanded, so to did the details of those visions. Although the men remained mysterious and faceless, more and more often her seductor was a total stranger, rather than someone she was familiar with. Still, I knew that my dreams of her with another man had to remain my own little secret.

As my wife’s belly grew larger with the life growing within, her sexy beauty was as radiant as ever. Possibly even more so. I swear, there is something intoxicatingly beautiful about a pregnant woman.

Then came İstanbul Escort those several weeks surrounding the birthing of our new daughter. When fucking was out and masturbation reigned supreme. That’s when the dreams of her with another man became omnipresent.

Neither of us were virgins when we married. As I’ve indicated, long before the wedding, I was already well aware that Marie’s sexual experiences far outpaced my own. Often having multiple boyfriends at a time. But from the moment we made our wedding day vows, Marie was as faithful a wife as there ever was. We were a monogamous couple.

The human brain is good at allowing us to talk ourselves into believing almost anything. It’s known as rationalizing. If we want a certain theory or idea to be true, whether it makes sense or not, we will rationalize it until it makes perfect sense. Sense to the person thinking it, anyway.

The dreams of Marie being unfaithful persisted. So as time passed, I had rationalized that my wife being seduced into having sex with someone other than me would be good for her. For Marie to once again have wild and raunchy sex with a properly equipped man was something she was owed. The repeated visions of my wife fucking another man had already removed any negative feelings that should have existed on the subject. Quite the opposite was the case now. I had convinced myself that my wife having illicit sex with another man would only strengthen my feelings for her. Thus it offered no threat to our marriage.

I suppose I had grown so used to thinking about my wife fucking other men and comfortable having those thoughts; it allowed what happened next. It was during our first permissible love-making session after my vasectomy and testing had proved I was completely sterile. While we were deeply involved in foreplay, I inadvertently verbalized the scenes going on in my mind. Talk about bad timing. I mean, here we were actually getting ready to celebrate ‘damn the calendar’ unprotected sex for the first time in more than two months, and I let that cat out of the bag. Hearing myself actually verbalizing my inner thoughts stunned me. I instantly realized what I’d done. What a shit I was for exposing my wife and new mother to these perverted thoughts!

Oddly, Marie never gave any indication that this revelation even registered. Our love-making proceeded as normal.

It was only afterward, as we lay spooning in post-coital bliss Marie asked, “Is that something you think of often? About me having sex with someone other than you?” Obviously, she had heard what I said, and seeds of doubt had germinated and grown to the point she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

As you can imagine, I was caught of guard by the question. How do you admit to your young bride that you have thoughts about her fucking a stranger? And you’ve been doing so for several years? But since I was not in the habit of lying to Marie, I spilled the beans, albeit through fits and starts, reveling my previously secret fantasies.

It was only natural for her to question my motives and assume that it was really an excuse for me to “get some strange” of my own. That argument was snuffed out pretty quickly. Forcefully and earnestly, I assured her, “I don’t need or want anyone else’s love but yours. And if I just wanted sex, I could have done that while you were out of commission the last two months.” However, my final statement must have been what persuaded her of my sincerity. “Let’s be real. For me to attempt having noncommittal sex with anybody else would only result in humiliation… My lack of endowment and all.” Openly recognizing my erections are more than an inch shorter than ‘average’ was enough to convince her that I had no ulterior motives.

(Yes, some time ago, porno movies, pictures, and high school gym class had made me well aware of my physical deficiencies down there. Later, the Internet only reinforced it.)

With that out of the way, I shifted the conversation back to her and how I sincerely believed our relationship would benefit if she were to experiment outside our marriage. That I was only looking out for her pleasure and sexual satisfaction. But, as stated earlier, she pretty much poo-pooed the idea of that ever happening.

Her position on the subject remained unchanged for the next half-dozen years. (Although… During foreplay, whenever I whispered about an imaginary lover in bed with her, her libido and the intensity of our love-making would instantly heat up. However, the topic was not open for discussion at any other time.)

That brings us back to last night’s “date” and what I was doing while Marie was with her lover.

Much of my evening was spent wondering what they were doing and fantasizing about what I HOPED they were doing. Naturally, these thoughts kept my dick rock hard, the tight-fitting panties pressing it firmly against my abdomen. Anyway, I did a lot of pacing back and forth through the house while taking hit after hit from bottle after bottle of beer. And I don’t especially care for beer. Every so often, Marie will have one. Other than that, it’s in the fridge for when we have company over. Initially, the idea was that by choosing to drink beer instead of something more to my liking, I’d drink less of it. It didn’t work out that way.