A: Visitor Pt. 01-03
Part 1
"You'll drop the kids off at your mom's by four o'clock, then?" Lauren confirmed for the third time Thursday evening.
"Yep, they're looking forward to 'Camp Grandma.' It's going to be fine," I assured her. She was acting awfully twitchy. "How are you doing? Do you want to change the plan? We don't have to do this," I offered.
"No, I do want to. But I'm just... anxious. I mean, it was just a one-time thing and what if it doesn't, you know, work?"
"If what doesn't work?"
"You know, what if I don't respond the same way."
"You mean if you don't have an orgasm again." She was dancing around it and I thought we should be past this by now.
"Yes," she spoke quietly.
Lauren and I had been married for more than 15 years and sex was not a big part of our life together. She generally lacked any sexual interest and it had always been that way. We married fairly young, but even in her high school and college years she had had little to no experience. I was her first and only sexual partner.
I quickly became frustrated at this part of our marriage. She was a great partner in all other aspects of our life, but she simply lacked sexual desire. When we did fool around, she was very reserved and usually tensed up. For years I wondered what I could do differently. I thought of her as a puzzle to solve, as if the right mood, the right context, the right touch, the right sensations might open her up and let her enjoy it. Nothing worked.
We read books and tried all kinds of things from lingerie to toys to role-play and more, but still, she remained locked. It stressed her out, especially as she knew how much it frustrated me. Eventually, I grew to realize that the problem wasn't something as simple as technique or mood; I'd had several partners before I met Lauren and sex was never this difficult. Even in high school, fumbling around in a car with a girlfriend, I took it for granted that sex was enjoyable for both people.
I had always had a strong sexual appetite and a creative one, at that. Over the years, I developed a deep enjoyment of many different kinks, fantasies, and fetishes. Given the imbalance in our respective libidos, I was drawn to chastity and orgasm denial. I suppose it was a way to find pleasure in the natural state of our relationship. Lauren wasn't at all interested in this, despite my pleas to indulge me in it.
Over time, I became a fan of cuckolding and hotwife fantasies. At first, it was simply mental voyeurism, envisioning her with another partner. Then it became a teasing, playful thing as she reveled in sexuality. Eventually, I began to get off to the idea that I was responsible for Lauren's sexual limitations. It was a humiliating fantasy, thinking about my failures and her voracious cravings fulfilled by a more capable man. I found it very hot, reading erotica and seeking out porn of all sorts to feed my imagination. I had shared this desire with her many times, but once again found her unwilling to play around with it - in fantasy or otherwise.
So when Lauren shared her experience with a friend at an out-of-town work meeting, I was floored. Her sudden awakening to the pleasure of sex and her first orgasm at the hands of Cody became fodder for us in the bedroom. She was a bit more relaxed, even playful, and seemed to enjoy herself - even if she still didn't achieve orgasm with me.
Several months later, she was still amazed at how aroused I got by talking about it. Initially, she was ashamed and repeatedly apologized, but saw that I wasn't exactly upset. I struggled with jealousy and humiliation, but quickly recognized the eroticism and desire that they evoked. We talked about it at length and grew comfortable with the reality of what had happened.
I noticed our sex life was improving. She would tell parts of the story while giving me a slow handjob, and she even occasionally took me in her mouth. With my fingers on her, she would close her eyes and her body responded to my touch. When we made love, it felt more electric. The experience had changed her, and I thought it was for the better.
Part 2
The first time she told me her story, we discussed the possibility that she might see Cody again, even inviting him to visit. When I brought it up a few days later, however, she shut it down.
"I don't think that's a good idea," she said.
"Why not? You said you enjoyed yourself and were interested in..."
She cut me off. "No. I don't think I'm okay with it."
A week later, I suggested it again. "You know, we could send the kids to my mom's for the weekend if you wanted to have a house guest stay over."
"I told you no. Don't bring it up again," she rebuked me sternly.
I kept my word and didn't mention it. But about three months later, as we lay in bed, she was the one to break the silence.
"I know I told you not to say anything about it, but I can't stop thinking... what if we invited him to visit?" Her voice had a little tremor that belied her confidence.
She didn't have to specify who she meant by "him."
"You want to?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
"I mean, maybe. I've been texting with him a bit and he asked if he could see me again," she replied.
"So what do you think?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
"Ha. Well, we can play this game all night, but I think you'd like to see him, too. And I'm ok with that," I replied. "I've been fantasizing about it ever since you first told me."
"I know. So how do we arrange this?"
I shrugged. "I'll check to see when we can send the kids to grandma's, and see if it works for everyone's schedules."
She sighed. "This part feels so mundane, doesn't it?"
"Yep. Logistics just aren't sexy," I replied. We both laughed, then we kissed. And then we made love and it felt like new.
Part 3
On Friday, we cleaned the house and I prepared dinner. Her nerves weren't entirely soothed but she had something to focus on and distract herself from what we had planned. I, on the other hand, stewed in the evening to come. My stomach roiled with jealousy and anxiety at the thought of meeting Cody and knowing what would happen. If I was truly okay with all of this, I suppose this weekend would be a hell of a way to find out. It was a heady feeling.
As I left to take the kids to grandma's house, she said she was heading upstairs to shower and change. The drive there and back was a blur, my mind elsewhere. I parked and went inside, the simmering pot on the stove filling the house with an aroma of beef and wine and thyme. When I walked into the bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of Lauren standing next to the bed, a foot up on the frame, rubbing lotion into her freshly shaved legs. A towel wrapped her body, her hands rubbing the cream into her long, slender legs. After a moment, she asked if I would apply lotion to her back, to which I readily accepted.
I poured a generous dollop into my palm as she dropped the towel and stood in front of me. I massaged her shoulders and back, leaning down to kiss and nuzzle at her neck. As I brought my hands around toward her breasts she swatted them away.
"Those aren't for you, not tonight," she said playfully.
"They're for him," I said.
"We'll see how the night goes," she whispered.
I took a seat on the bed and watched as she prepared, pulling on a pair of low cut black underwear and clasping a matching bra that did a great justice to her already lovely breasts. My cock stirred at the sight, an obvious tent in my pants. A feeling of anticipation gave me a shiver. She noticed both.
"Enjoying the show? Or looking forward to tonight?"
"Both, I guess. This is really hot. I can't believe we're doing this."
"It's not too late to back out. I promise, we don't have to," she assured me with concern in her voice.
"No, really, I'm nervous as hell but you've already done this. We're just doing it...together. I know about it. The anticipation is part of the experience. Does that make sense?"
"Definitely." She turned to me and looked a bit sheepish. "I actually masturbated the other night, thinking about this."
I couldn't hide my surprise. "Really? I didn't think you ever did that."
"I don't. I mean, I've tried, but it doesn't really do anything. But the other night I got so worked up thinking about this weekend that I tried it again."
"And?"
"It was good. It felt good."
"Did you come?"
"No, but it seemed really close and then it stopped. But it felt nice." She was more comfortable talking about this than I'd ever seen her. She had certainly changed.
Her phone buzzed on the bedside table. She picked it up and read, "Just got to the exit. I'm about 30 minutes away." She looked at me.
"I guess I'll take a quick shower and get dressed as well. Could you open the wine when you're done getting dressed?""
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