Soft Swing Pt. 01

Jeff also told me that he couldn't handle dating a girl who flirted with other men. His lack of trust caused him to suspect her of cheating automatically. His doubts would eat away at their relationship until he would break up with her.

I understood his feelings one-hundred percent. I wanted a man who wanted me and nobody else. I planned to be completely devoted and faithful to my future husband. I expected that in return from the guys I dated. It was reassuring to me that Jeff would be there for me. I needed to do everything I could to convince Jeff that I was there for him and him only.

So, as we dated and quickly became a couple, I made a concerted effort never to express any interest whatsoever in other men. I focused my affection and my attention on Jeff. He noticed how devoted I was to him and, as a result, I was able to crack through his icy facade and reach the sweet man within.

We became intimate, and it was the best sex of my life. Jeff was a caring, attentive lover. Randy's cock had been bigger, but not by much. So, it wasn't a size thing for me. It was really about how Jeff treated me and how obviously his desire to make me happy came through in how he interacted with me sexually. Our sex was never dull or vanilla. We explored many positions and ways of giving and receiving pleasure. Some days he would make love to me like a saint and other times fuck me like a whore. I loved it all, even more, because it was with Jeff.

As I waited impatiently for Jeff to get home, I thought about the past ten years of our marriage. Things had been great. We lived comfortably, with the income from his job in technology. I was a stay-at-home mother to our two daughters, Meghan, age 6, and Taminy, age 4. After Taminy was born, we decided we didn't want to have any more kids, so I had my tubes tied. It was Jeff's idea. I suggested he get his done, instead, but he talked me into it.

I shared a lot of my sexual fantasies with Jeff, and he did with me. However, there was one I never mentioned. I was afraid he would leave me if I did. I think it had something to do with my rape, at least that's what one of my therapists had tried to tell me. I fantasized about being fucked by other men, sometimes more than one at a time.

Most of the time, I was fine. But, every once in a while, I would find myself masturbating imagining what it would be like to be fucked by someone other than Jeff. Often, this including other men watching and jerking off, or maybe joining in. Most shocking of all was that frequently the person fucking me was Juarez.

I knew I would never act on my fantasies. I could never hurt Jeff, as his first wife had done. I would never do anything behind Jeff's back. So, the fantasies lay dormant but created a smoldering fire in my body, that grew hotter and in more need of stoking as the years went by.

The guilt from my fantasies was burdensome. I would lay in bed, fucking myself with a dildo, imagining it was someone else, and cum uncontrollably. Immediately after the orgasm crested, the guilt would hit me and linger for a long time. Jeff and I talked about everything. We had no secrets, except for this. I needed to tell him and get it off my chest but how he might react terrified me.

Eventually, I broke down and broached the subject with Jeff. We were in bed and had just started some light foreplay. We were both feeling pretty turned on.

"Jeff," I began, taking a deep breath, "You know I love you more than anything and would never want to do anything to hurt you, right?"

He faced me, with a concerned look on his brow.

"Yeah, of course," he replied, looking even more nervous than I felt. "What's going on, Mel?"

"There's nothing bad," I explained, trying to help reduce the stress. "Don't worry. I'm not cheating on you. I would never cheat on you."

I could see him let his breath out and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

"I think there's nothing we couldn't say to each other," I said, "and I love that. We can tell each other everything that goes on in our lives without judging each other, without needing to keep secrets."

He nodded, staring at me. "Why do I get the feeling that a 'but' is about to come out of your mouth?"

I shook my head, "Well, you're wrong. And," I continued, stressing the word 'and' strongly, to show him I was not saying 'but.' "And, I don't want to hide anything from you."

"Good," he said, lightly brushing my hair from my face, "I don't want either of us to hide anything. Open communication is critical to a lasting relationship."

I swallowed hard, trying to get the courage to tell him what I had on my mind. "Well, I have to confess that I have been hiding something from you. I have a recurring sexual fantasy that I'm afraid to tell you about."

"Why are you afraid to tell me?" he asked, turning on his side and stroking my hip. "It's just a fantasy, right?" he asked.

"Yes, that's right," I answered.

"It's not something extremely kinky like golden showers or vomiting is it?" he asked, winking at me trying to help me open up.

"Eww!" I shouted, "No way!"

"Good, because I'm not into playing with bodily functions," he replied, laughing. "So what is this recurring fantasy?"

"Well, based on your history with your ex-wife," I began, pausing to catch my breath, "I've been afraid to tell you, because you may get hurt or get mad at me."

I think I saw a light of realization in his eyes, as the mention of his past clued him in on the general direction of my fantasy.

"You haven't acted on these fantasies, have you?" he asked nervously.

I shook my head vigorously, "No! Of course, not!"

"Then you have nothing to fear, Mel," he said, smiling at me. "Spit it out, already. What's your fantasy?"

"It's just that sometimes I get worked up thinking about having more than one person pleasuring me at the same time," I said. I hadn't meant to say it that way and felt guilty like I was lying or being deceitful.

"Oooh," he replied, sounding excited, "that could be a hot fantasy. Any lady in mind?"

I grimaced. "Uhh," I started, "not exactly. I was thinking more about guys than ladies."

"Oh," he said, sounding a little surprised. I couldn't tell if he was upset, turned on, both, neither.

"You have a recurring fantasy about having sex with other men?" he asked, fixing me with a stoic stare that left me fearful and wondering what he was thinking.

I nodded, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm sorry, honey. I know how you feel about it. I don't want to do anything about my fantasies, but I couldn't go on hiding it from you or deceiving you about it. I don't want to keep it from you."

"Do you ever fantasize about him?" Jeff asked, without saying his name. I knew he meant Juarez. I blushed and felt the heat of the blood in my face.

"Sometimes," I confessed.

"Have you told your therapist?" he asked, seeming genuinely concerned for me.

"I have," I explained, "she says it is not uncommon or abnormal. It's something we have worked on."

"I see," he slid his hand down my hip and across my abdomen, then over my mound and across my labia. I shuddered and moaned softly, spreading my legs apart for him. I knew what he would feel and was not ashamed.

"You're soaking wet, Mel," he said, smiling at me.

"Yes, I am, baby," I said softly, rocking my hips as his fingertips explored my pussy.

"You know this is my pussy," he said, matter-of-factly, as his finger stroked my engorged clitoris, sending warm, electric shockwaves through my lower body.

"Yes, it is," I agreed, "only yours."

Jeff rolled over between my legs and kissed me just to the right of my pussy. I groaned and raised my hips. He kissed around the opposite side. I felt myself melting against him. "Oh, God," I sighed, "please don't tease me."

"It's perfectly normal for you to have fantasies about other men, Mel," Jeff said, lightly rubbing his fingers against me, sending sweet sensations all over my body.

"It is?" I asked, sounding surprised. I was pleasantly surprised by his response and loved him even more if that was even possible.

"Yeah," he continued, "I even read a study once that said when married women masturbate, they tend to fantasize about other men, like Brad Pitt, George Clooney or Tom Brady."

"Brad Pitt maybe, but not Tom Brady," I responded, giggling, then tried to get him to touch me more.

"Whereas husbands tend to fantasize about their wives," he added.

He spread my legs wider and used his fingers to part my labia, exposing my slit and clit to his tongue. He dragged his tongue up, between my swollen lips, tasting my nectar. I bucked my hips in response.

"Oh fuck, don't stop," I declared. "Do you fantasize about me?"

"All the time," he answered, then licked me again. "But, not exclusively."

I gasped in response to his tongue.

"You fantasize about other women?" I asked, more pleased than surprised. Maybe I was normal. "Like who?"

Jeff chuckled at my sudden interrogation and didn't answer right away. Instead, he lowered his mouth and licking my clit softly, repeatedly. It took my breath away, causing me to cry out and grind my pussy into his face. After several seconds, he raised his face, my juices dripping from his chin and said, "I don't know. Men tend to fantasize about women they know, unlike women who fantasize about celebrities."

"You fantasize about women we know? Like who? Angie?" I asked, almost accusatory. Angie was a hot woman in Jeff's department. "Nevermind, I don't want to know who it is. I might scratch the bitch's eyes out."

Jeff laughed, then resumed licking me.

"You can fantasize about anything you want, or anyone, Mel," he whispered between long, slow licks up and down through my slippery, wet pussy. "But, if you ever go behind my back and fuck anyone else, we're done! Is that clear?"

"Yes, baby," I replied, grabbing his head in my hands and pushing his face against my pussy. "What if it isn't behind your back?"

"What?" He asked, trying to pull his head up to stare at me. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if you were there? What if you were helping?" I think I shocked him completely until I pulled my dildo out from under my pillow. "Fred here, can't fuck me by himself. He needs some help."

I bit my lip and offered the dildo to Jeff. He grinned, sighing in relief as he realized I had not meant a real person. He took the dildo from me.

"Hello Fred," he said shaking the rubbery cock, "so you're the bastard who has been fucking my wife. Well, I guess I'm okay with that."

After that, Fred became a frequent member of our sexual fun and games. Jeff would fuck me with the dildo while I sucked his cock. Jeff was always very vocal in describing what Fred was doing to me. I would cum like never before, squirting all over Jeff, Fred, the bed and sometimes the floor.

One time, Jeff bent over and was fucking me from behind. Doggy was always a highly erotic position for me, which made me feel super slutty. Not only could Jeff pound me hard, but his cock could hit places he didn't usually reach. But, shamefully, the biggest turn on was remembering what Randy had caught me doing behind the bar that fateful day.

"Damn, Mel," Jeff groaned as he held onto my hips, pumping his cock into my hot pussy. "Your ass looks so fucking hot."

I wiggled my hips and moaned in response. Jeff gripped his cock in his fist, then pulled it out of me slowly. I whimpered at the removal and cessation of pleasure but gasped when I felt the head of his dick pushing against my tight anus.

"Oh, yes, baby," I exclaimed, "put it in my ass."

I grabbed the sheets in my fists and held on tightly, preparing for his cock to invade my ass. He pushed forward, and I felt a quick jab of pain as my ass was stretched wide, but then it suddenly stopped as he pulled out. He was teasing me.

"I think someone else needs to fuck this ass," Jeff said softly, as he pushed his dick back into my pussy. I cried out, feeling him entering me fully, my flesh forced open around his thick shaft. "You want that don't you, baby, someone else's cock sliding in your ass while I fuck your pussy."

I pushed my ass back and rocked my hips from side to side. "You know what I want," I replied, looking at my husband over my shoulder with a naughty grin.

I felt the spongy tip of Fred's cock press against my asshole and shuddered. "Fuck yes," I gasped, "fill both my holes."

He did, he fucked me in both my pussy and ass, double penetrating me. I loved every second of it. There's no feeling like it in the world, to be utterly filled with cock. Even though Fred was only a rubber dick, it did the trick. I imagined there were two men in bed with me, my loving husband and one of our friends. I came hard, but my lust didn't come down. I was on fire and needed Jeff to fuck me like a slut. He held on as long as he could but having Fred in my ass made my pussy extra tight around his cock. He let out a loud yell and shot his seed into my womb.

After we caught our breath, we cuddled tightly. Jeff kissed me lovingly and gently stroked my back. "You know there are several reasons Fred is better than a real guy," Jeff said playfully.

"Oh, really?" I asked, playing along. "Like what?"

"Well for one, he doesn't ever need to worry about erectile dysfunction," Jeff said, laughing softly.

"That's definitely a good thing," I agreed.

"And, Fred can't get you pregnant," Jeff added.

"I can't get pregnant anyway so that one is irrelevant," I countered.

"Well, that's true," Jeff agreed, shaking his head. "Well, we don't have to have any awkward moments after he fucks you."

"That's a plus for sure," I said, giggling. I stared at Jeff, wondering why he was having this line of thought. Was he actually considering bringing another man into our sex life? I kissed Jeff softly, then added, "But, I can think of a few reasons why a real guy would be better."

"Oh, you can, can you?"

"Uh-huh, like a real man would be able to fuck me much better than Fred," I said with a smile.

"Probably true," he conceded. "What else?"

"Well, even though I can't get pregnant, Fred can't cum. It would be so hot to have another man shoot his sperm inside me, in my mouth, my pussy, my ass or on my face or tits."

"You'd like that huh?" Jeff asked me, placing my hand on his cock. It was hard as a rock. I was still on fire and needed more dick.

"I'd love it," I said breathlessly, "Why don't you stick that in me and fill me up with your sperm."

He raised my knee and scooted closer, rubbing the head of his cock in my wet slit. "Close your eyes," he said, "this is not Jeff's cock penetrating you. Imagine it is someone else."

I gasped as I looked at Jeff, surprised by his suggestion, then grinned. I closed my eyes. "Oh fuck, your cock feels so big, baby," I said seductively, "But, you better hurry up before my husband gets back.

"Whose dick is this?" Jeff asked me as he slid easily inside my slick love canal.

"Mine," I said instantly, then realized he didn't mean that. He was wanting to know who I was imagining was fucking me, so I added quickly, "Randy. It's my cock, Randy. Now fuck me like you used to."

Jeff groaned and started pumping his cock in and out slowly, making love to me. "Harder, Randy," I growled. "Fuck me like you own me."

"Who owns this pussy?" Jeff asked as he increased the intensity of his thrusts, his balls slapping rhythmically against me.

"You do, Randy," I grunted out between slams of his cock. I could feel my orgasm already nearing.

Jeff pushed himself upright and pulled me back onto my hands and knees. I felt my pussy flooding as he started fucking me doggy style. He rammed into me harder. I felt the head of his cock hit my cervix, and I winced in pain, but it drove my pleasure even higher.

"You sure about that?" Jeff asked with a strong, fake accent, as you would hear in a bad 70's Western. "Whose poosy eez thees?"

I groaned loud and was unable to answer, shocked by what he was trying to do.

"You know I own thees poosy," Jeff said pretending to be Mexican. I grunted and felt myself slipping over the edge. I was shaking all over and slamming my cunt back onto Jeff's dick.

"Your boyfriend, he watched us fucking, my leetle puta," Jeff said. "He saw how much you liked eet."

"Yes!" I screamed as I started cumming. Jeff pounded me harder, faster from behind. He was using me roughly, violating me. I came more and more. "Yes, fuck yes!"

"Say my name, beetch!" Jeff shouted as he fucked me relentlessly.

"Oh fuck, yes! Fuck me, Juarez! Fuck me!" I shrieked as I lost control of my body.

Jeff was growling and suddenly stiffed and cried out, "Fuck, I'm cumming!" He came longer and harder than I'd ever seen him do before. He was an animal, shooting spurt after spurt of sperm deep inside me. I couldn't stop cumming. I was not in control of my body.

My cries of pleasure changed into sobs as I cried out, pulling away from Jeff and curling into the fetal position.

"Oh God, Mel," he exclaimed, trying to hug me. "I'm sorry, baby! I shouldn't have done that!"

I cried. Something inside me had snapped. Jeff pretending to be my rapist had released something that had been bound up inside me. I felt raw emotion and couldn't stop crying.

"I'm sorry, Melissa. I love you; I can't believe I did that!" Jeff apologized over and over again. I reached out and grabbed him around the neck and pulled him to me, kissing him.

"It's ok, Jeff," I said, between sobs as tears streamed down my face. "It's ok. I think I needed you to do that."

Jeff held me and covered my face with kisses, continuing to apologize. He didn't understand. I didn't either. Whatever had happened, I was fine. Since the rape, the idea of Juarez fucking me had held some kinky, dirty attraction for me all these years. Now that Jeff had, in a sense, re-enacted it, those feelings were gone. My orgasm had been like a catharsis, unleashing all of that pent-up energy. Now, the thought of fucking Juarez had no fascination for me. I laughed. Jeff looked at me like I was nuts.

"It was hot, Jeff," I said kissing him again. "Just promise me you'll never, ever do that again. Anybody but him, ok?"

"I promise!" he said, then kissed the tears from my face.

That had been a year ago. Jeff and I had continued to explore our fantasies. He'd pretended to be other guys many times, much to my enjoyment. I had returned the favor and pretended to be Angie for his pleasure. I'd even gone as far as wearing a blonde wig and dressed up like her, roleplaying being his secretary.

Once, we had even gone to a bar separately, and Jeff had pretended to be a stranger from out of town who picked me up, took me to his hotel room and spent the night fucking me bareback. We loved sharing our fantasies and exploring them together. But it was always about us.

So, as I heard the garage door opening, I drank a sip of wine for courage, took a couple of long deep breaths and prepared myself mentally for what I wanted to say. I had left the girls at my mother's house for the night, to give Jeff and I some privacy. I adjusted the satin robe, to show off my cleavage and make it clear to Jeff that I was naked under it.

He came into the kitchen and dropped off his computer bag and keys and froze upon entering the family room. He stared at me and grinned.

"Wow," he said, "now that's a great sight to come home to."

I smiled warmly and patted the sofa next to me as I poured him a glass of wine. "Come and sit honey," I said, lowering my eyes and looking up at him demurely.

"Happy Anniversary!" Jeff blurted out.

I grinned mischievously. "It's not our anniversary."

"Just being careful," he replied, "it has to be some special occasion for you to be dressed like that and offering me wine as soon as I come in the door."

"No," I responded. "There's no special occasion. But we do need to talk."