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He came right out and asked me if my wife would fuck other people, and I told him no. “Don’t be so sure,” he said. “Often the husband is the last to know. I told her a few days later, as we lay in bed, what Jake had said, and she was quiet for a minute.
“What did you tell him?” she asked quietly. I told her I said she would not. “He said the husbands were often the last to know,” I told her.
“He is right, you know,” she replied softly. “You are the last to know. We wives keep it from you on purpose. Some of us don’t know ourselves,” she said without emotion. “Some of us learn we will when it happens,” she said. “Most women will,” she added. “Many of us want to, but we keep that hidden from you and even ourselves. You would be surprised what we think about, wonder about, and secretly want to do.”
“Do you?” I asked.
“Of course,” she answered quietly. “With the right man. I think about it often,” she confessed honestly. “My secret garden is just like every other woman’s,” she said as open and honest as she had her ever been. “I even have a few candidates,” she said turning to face me. “You want to know who they are?”
I hesitated, then told her I did, although I wasn’t sure I actually wanted to hear. “Randy,” she said.
“My brother?” I said.
“Always have,” she said. “I usually fantasize about him about once a week.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.
“Because I thought it was time,” she said without hesitation. “I decided you deserved to know the person you married. I figured it was only fair. You should be able to understand how I really feel about things.” She paused. “You deserve to know what I am thinking. What I really want to do. You telling me what Jake said was the perfect excuse. He is right. Most women want to be fucked by a handsome stranger, to be taken and ravished, to be fucked and desired and romanced by someone other than their husbands. Most women dream about it. I know I do. Usually every night. I have wanted to be fucked by Randy since before we were şişli escort married. How are you taking this?” she asked.
I told her I was surprised, even shocked. I said I wasn’t prepared for it. “So you want him to fuck you?”
“Oh yes,” she offered honestly. “I would tonight if he were here. I would fuck him in front of you, kind of like an initiation, to let you see who I am, who I have kept you from knowing. I would like to be ravished, to be fucked hard and fast. I’d like to suck him off for you to see, to show you what I want.” She paused. “I’d like you to know what kind of slut you married. I’d like to fuck many men, try many dicks. I have kept her hidden from you. I have been the good wife, the shy lover, but I want to be the whore who fucks whoever she wants, as many times as she wants, and as often as she wants.”
Over the next few weeks it was all I thought about, my wife saying she wanted to fuck other people. She had named my brother, but she had also gone on to include other people: my best friend, some men from her work, and a friend or two from her past. She had calmly said she often fantasized about fucking men who made her panties wet, men who made her pussy tingle. I could not stop thinking about what I didn’t know about her. She had said she wanted to be fucked by a black man, a fellow with a large cock, and someone she had just met the night they went to bed for the first time.
She had confessed reading stories about shared wives, about women who had affairs, and women who fucked other women. I was stunned, astonished by what little I knew of the person who slept next to me each night, about what was going on in the privacy of her mind. Were most women as duplicitous, as secretive about their inner desires? Was I? Of course i was. I fantasized about secret things that went on in my private thoughts, and I didn’t share them with the world, with my wife, or with anyone.
She had revealed a part of me I had not acknowledge, didn’t admit to, and even deluded myself about. She had shown part of herself I had never seen, never even considered, never guessed about, or that I had not truthfully suspected. The question now, of course, was what would happen next? How would I react to her revelations? What did she want from me? Was she asking for sexual freedom? Did she want to leave me? I simply didn’t know, not even what I would do or what was expected of me. When she said she fantasized about my brother did she want to fuck him? Was she saying she was going to actually have sex with him and wasn’t asking for permission?
I had many things to decide, and how I felt about it all was the first thing I needed to determine. I needed to know what my wife was going to do, and I had to come to a decision about whether I could handle whatever she decided. I was not angry about it, but I was confused and undecided, a little frightened by it all, and I was worried I would do the wrong thing for us as a couple, that I would not be able to accommodate her needs.
When dinner was over I helped with the clean up and stood next to her at the sink. “You said you thought about other men regularly,” I said, trying to sound casual but struggling to deal with the topic that was constantly on my mind. She turned to face me and smiled.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” she said with a sigh. “I did’t want to hurt you, but I was just trying to be honest for a change.” She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. “Sweetheart, I don’t need to have sex with other people,” she said after the kiss. “I love you and I only need you.”
I kissed her back and hugged her against me. “I don’t want to limit you,”I said. “I want you to feel free to do whatever you want to do. I want what you want for yourself, what you desire to make you happy. Being part of a successful couple means not limiting one another. I want to be strong enough for you.”
She smiled and the smile said everything. “We can’t have everything we want,” she said quietly. “I decided to spend my life with you because you are my top choice. You are my mate.”
“Maybe we could find a way to give you some of the things you yearn for,” I said. “Maybe I could find the strength to give you some time to yourself, some time to be who you really are. I have been thinking a lot about what you said, about a woman’s needs. I know you love me, and I know you have desires I don’t have. We like different things, and that’s normal. Maybe we could see to it that you can enjoy some freedoms not open to you before. I just ask for one thing,” I said. She nodded, waiting for me to tell her what I wanted. “Could you tell me about it afterwards? Share it with me as if it was a mutual experience. Think you could do that?” After a minute she nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “If that is what you want.”
“It is,” I said. “It would like we were doing it together, like group sex.” We laughed and she kissed me again. “Like telling about a great concert you’ve gone to and enjoyed.”
“Like an enjoyable concert?” she asked with a grin.
“Exactly,” I said. “Like something we both could enjoy knowing about.
“I could do that,” she said with a pleasant smile. “And you would be okay with me enjoying a ‘great concert’ once in a while?” she asked. I nodded.
She went out with Jason the next Saturday night. They went to a concert, and then they went to his apartment for some after-concert recreation. When she came home she told me about the concert, then she told me all about their sex, what they did and what he did to her, and what she did to him. It was actually very enjoyable hearing about my wife’s after-concert sex and after hearing about it we relived her experience in our own bed, slowly and with tender, loving sex that made me realize I had made the right decision.
Regularly now she “sees” one of her fantasy friends and relives it with me afterwards. It is a pleasant and satisfying experience that we both now enjoy and have good sex afterwards. I was surprised when told me the truth about wives sexual needs, but I am certainly glad that she did. It has worked out really well for both of us. A husband who shares is a husband who cares.
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