Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Infidelity Turns to Joy In Sharing My Wife As a high school teen, I had several threesome experiences with two women, and never found them to be particularly satisfying... even though I had fantasized about "being ravished" by multiple females from puberty on. My life changed when, in my thirties, I came home from work early and caught my wife in bed with another guy. At first I was shocked and angered. I went and got my shotgun from a closet and burst into the bedroom where they were rather actively engaged. I had two problems however. Intellectually, I knew I did not want to spend my life in jail; nor did I want to lose my wife. Emotionally, while I felt betrayed, I was also terribly aroused. I put the gun down and told my wife we needed to talk. I explained my very complex and confused emotions, and told her it was the betrayal that hurt, not the sex. I then completely surprised her when I asked her what she thought about having two men at once. Hesitant at first, she finally agreed. Her lover was hesitant too, and a bit wilted, having focused like a laser on my shotgun. I do not know if he was aroused by the idea of sharing my wife with me, or scared of what might happen if he said no. Ultimately, he agreed. The experience was awkward, fun, arousing, silly, and many other things. Great sex it was not... but it definitely held promise. We agreed it had been interesting and fun, but were not certain we wanted to continue. The other guy was not particularly enthused by the whole scene, and soon made himself scarce. We went about our lives, struggling through a marriage that we had entered while too young, for all the wrong reasons, and into which we brought children far too soon. However, as much strife as we had, we truly loved each other. It was several years before we had our second experience. Now in our mid-thirties, we had moved, due to financial necessity. Our neighbor was a single father of two boys, about ten years our senior. As the three of us became closer friends, I began to see changes in my wife's behavior... things I had noticed once before... just before I had caught her in bed with the other guy. I will not bore you with all the details, but I became convinced she either wanted, or was having, an affair with our neighbor. I began to plot and scheme about how I was going to catch them. I would not be a cuckold. I am not sure who was more surprised when it finally happened, her or me. After secretly monitoring her activities, I was convinced she had planned a tryst one particular day. I worked at the time nearly 90 miles away, and she knew that once gone to work, I was not likely to appear any time soon. What she did not plan for was that I would leave as though going to work, and hide out nearby, only to return well before expected. I found a place for breakfast, and after an appropriate 90-minute wait, called the house, ostensibly to ask some inane question, while in reality setting the stage for my unexpectedly early return. I told her I was at work; I bitched about the terrible traffic; and complained about idiot drivers with whom I had contended. I figured she would then be at ease. I waited a bit over 30 minutes, and figured the time had come. I parked around the corner and snuck through a neighbor's yard toward my house. When I got to the side of the house, I could hear muffled talking, laughing, and giggling coming from the downstairs spare bedroom. Yet, I was confused when I looked into the driveways of my and my next-door neighbor's homes, and did not see my neighbor's car as I was sure I would. I tried to glance through the window, but the curtain was pulled tight. When I tried to enter the back/basement door, which I had left unlocked, I found it locked and chained. Unable to contain myself, I marched to the front door. Fearing I would find that chained too, I was shocked to find it both unlocked and unchained. My thoughts reeled... anger, confusion, uncertainty, and curiosity warred for supremacy. Finally, I could contain myself no more. I barged into the house and stalked down the half flight of stairs into the basement. I was surprised all right! So were my fully clothed and thoroughly stoned wife and my neighbor's 18-year-old son Ron. My wife looked at me with partially glazed eyes, confused for a moment at my presence, and then proceeded to launch into uncontrollable giggles. Ron handed me his pipe and said, "Want to get stoned?" The adrenaline rush I was feeling had my pulse pounding and my blood flowing. My body was tensed for almost anything but what I had found. Combined with a sense of relief, I felt a sense of euphoria as though I were sky high on speed or coke. I flopped onto the side of the bed, took the pipe, and inhaled the powerful and sweet herbaceous smoke, held it, exhaled, and inhaled again. My wife sat beside me to my left and took the pipe, inhaled, then passed it to Ron who had sat upon the side of the bed to her left. I had always found marijuana to be sexually stimulating. Having already been thinking of sex, it was not long before I felt tremendously aroused. To this day, I am unsure whether I had simply forgotten (in my drugged condition) that Ron was there; I did not care... or intended something to happen. If it was the latter, I was not disappointed. I placed my arm around my wife's waist and nuzzled her ear and the nape of her neck with my tongue. She placed her warm hand on my thigh and began to teasingly stroke my thigh, moving higher with each stroke. I turned my body to her and began to caress her body with my free right hand. I could feel her breathing quicken, and when I reached her breast, her nipple was hard and erect. My wife's hand was grasping my manhood through my clothing. When I reached my hand between her legs I became aware again of Ron, as I realized our two hands were seeking the same treasure between her thighs. I looked over and saw my wife's other hand kneading his crotch as she simultaneously massaged mine. I whispered into her ear, "Are you sure you want this to happen?" She answered me by speaking to us both, saying, "Help me take these clothes off, and then both of you take off yours." As if reading each other's thoughts, Ron and I slowly and teasingly removed her clothing very slowly, stroking, caressing, and lightly tickling her body with our fingers and tongues. With all of her clothing removed, we moved about her sucking, licking, and probing her with our fingers and tongues, moving as if we had been choreographed, moving in almost perfect rhythm. Before long she was tearing at our clothes. While one of us continued to work her into a fevered pitch, the other quickly undressed and moved to continue and escalate her arousal. I cannot tell you who did what or in what order. Ron and I became the perfect machine, working with a single mindless goal of bringing my loving wife to ecstasy, and keeping her there for as long as she could stand. Our bodies, our hands, fingers, and tongues never stopped moving. Our erections slowly caressed her, penetrating her, pounding her hard and fast, then slow and sweet. Once she reached her orgasm, we kept her there like boiling water on a stove, sometimes simmering, sometimes exploding in ecstasy. I could not tell you how many times any of us came, nor can I give you the move-by-move details of a sportscaster or pornographic writer. I can only tell you it was `Perfect Lust,' consumed in a fire of perfect sex. The three of us joined often over the next several years, in and about our home, on a nearby deserted beach, and in an idyllic forest glade alongside a gurgling stream. Neither Ron nor I ever felt cheated or slighted in any way, but our center and our focus was always on my beautiful and loving wife. Here is the story of our beach encounter. It was a comfortable sunny day in April; one of those days that people dream about after a brutally cold and wet winter on the Chesapeake Bay. The brisk northerly winds had shifted to a warm southerly caress. It was the kind of day that begged for a walk on the beach. My gorgeous wife and I headed out the door for the beach, a leisurely walk. We grasped each other's hands as we strolled along, two lovers on a day made for romance. Trees were sprouting, their fresh green buds spreading their leaves to gather the nourishing spring sun. Crocus burst from the ground, recently thawed. The air was redolent of sweet pollen, rich earth, and salt from the nearby bay. Without a word spoken, we turned down a scant trail into the woods, forgoing the more public entrance to the community beach for the lesser-known path that led to our "secret" cove. As we were about to pass from all possible view of the road, a familiar voice called out to us. "Beautiful day for a walk," said Ron, our then 19 year-old next-door neighbor. Weeks earlier, the three of us had found ourselves engaged in an unplanned yet most satisfying ménage au trio. While we had certainly seen each other almost daily since that poly-amorous epiphany, our thoughts had, as so often is the case in life, been consumed by the mundane tasks of work and family. My wife gave me a mischievous look; I squeezed her hand in silent assent as I smiled. I felt a thrill of excitement, and my manhood swelled in anticipation. "Ron, we're headed for the beach. Why don't you join us?" said my wife. Ron said, "Sure!" as he strode down the path to join as. As he got to us, she grabbed his hand, turned, and lightly started to run down the path toward the beach, laughing and giggling as she dragged Ron and me along. We arrived at the shore breathless and warm with sweat. The beach upon which we stood was hidden from view of the community beach by the rugged shoreline. Collapsed sections of the sandy cliffs that towered nearly fifty feet above the surf provided a natural barrier in spots to casual strollers. To ensure our privacy we walked north along the surf for several hundred yards until we reached the mouth of a small clear stream. Cool fresh water flowed steadily, gurgling lightly as it ran from the woods to our left into the bay. Light surf provided a rhythmic sounds that tickled our ears and lightly vibrated the ground. "Bet you can't catch me," challenged my wife, quickly releasing our hands to dart up the beach. Dodging and spinning, she laughed as she briefly evaded us. Nevertheless, two aroused men were not to be denied. Truth be told, it was evident she yearned to be caught quickly. We caught her between us, Ron in front, and me behind. Reaching around her, I grasped her firm, perfect breasts. As I stroked her and lightly pinched her nipples through the light cotton of her spaghetti top, I kissed the nape of her neck and tongued her ear. I heard her gasp, and felt a shiver run through her body as Ron's hands and fingers explored between her legs through the fabric of her jeans. I pulled her top over her head and seized her breasts in my hands. As I stroked and caressed the underside of her pert breasts, I pinched and lightly pulled at her erect nipples. I briefly stepped back and removed the daypack from my back. Taking a light blanket from the pack, I spread it on the ground behind my wife and stepped to her again, pressing myself against her back, and wrapping an arm around her waist. She leaned heavily backward into my arms as I nuzzled her neck. Seeing an opportunity, Ron quickly unsnapped her jeans and pulled them across her taught stomach and narrow hips, allowing them to fall down her endlessly long legs to bunch at her ankles. Ron began kissing her belly just above her cleanly shaven mound, and ran his tongue downward, leaving a trace of saliva that pointed like an arrow to the most beautifully shaped cunt I have ever seen. My wife shivered until, at the moment his tongue reached her small but erect clit, she forcefully sucked in a break of air and all but collapsed backward into my arms, surrendering herself completely to Ron's fluttering and probing tongue. I gently lowered her to the blanket. While Ron feasted on her pussy and drank of the wetness flowing from her, I impatiently stripped myself, tossing clothes haphazardly atop the nearby bushes. I knelt to the ground and passionately kissed her. Then, leaning over her, I began to suck and lick her breasts and nipples. My wife was moaning loudly and shaking from her first orgasm. Before she could recover, Ron swiftly removed his pants, moved toward her on his knees, and grasped both her legs to place them over his shoulders. Her wet cunt opened like the petals of a tulip, her clit protruded upward like a flower's pistil. He placed the large bulbous head of his erect cock against her opening, and slowly entered her until his cock was sunk to the hilt in her velvety heat. As Ron began to fuck her slowly, she reached above her head, grabbed my cock and balls, and pulled me hungrily to her mouth. Taking me into her hot mouth, she ran her lips and tongue up and down the underside of my stiff hot cock while squeezing and massaging my balls with her hand. Each time she reached the head of my cock she took it briefly into her mouth, and ran her tongue around the rim. Soon, Ron attained a slowly increasing tempo, picking up his speed as her body responded and her breath quickened. Sensing the unrelenting tide of her massive orgasm as it approached, I began to fuck her hot mouth in time with Ron's strokes. I reached down with my hand and began to rub her protruding clit in time with Ron's strokes into her grasping pussy and my own into her mouth. The three of us moved in perfect synchronization, one organism with a single mind and purpose. I could feel her body tense and begin to shudder uncontrollably as the leading edge of her orgasm arrived, the wave lifting her higher and higher until she uncharacteristically shrieked and shook in an orgasm unlike any other she had experienced before. Taken to the edge ourselves, Ron and I managed to retain control, knowing we could take her even further into ecstasy. Ron withdrew himself and slowly ran his hands across her taught belly and breasts. I moved between her legs and began to kiss and lick her stomach, the inside of her thighs, and the outer lips of her mons. Holding the petals of her labia open, I locked my mouth onto her clit and inserted several fingers into her. Ron had moved to her head and began to feed his cock to her waiting mouth, as again as I moved to place the head of my engorged cock at the opening of her cunt. I slid myself into her wetness and heat. We found a rhythm and began to steadily increase our tempo. My stroking soon became the relentless pounding of a jackhammer, fast and hard. Again my wife began to shake and shiver, moaning loudly. I all but stopped my motion as she neared another massive orgasm. I withdrew my cock until its head just barely penetrated her. She strained and bucked to force my cock back inside her hungry cunt. My wife was panting and gasping for breath, her body balanced on the razor's edge of a massive orgasm that I would not allow her. Each time I saw her slip from the edge, I gave a few quick deep strokes, forcing her straining body back to the edge again and again. The look on her face and in her eyes combined near ecstasy and pain. I wanted to give my wife an orgasm unlike any other she had ever had. I asked Ron to prepare to take my place. I quickly swung my body around into a 69 position, wrapped my arms around her waist, and rolled onto my back, with her lying atop my body. I motioned with my hand to Ron, and locked my lips firmly around her protruding clit as Ron slid his rampant cock into her pussy. Her pussy seemed almost as though it strained to grasp his hardness and pull it in. As Ron relentlessly built a rhythm of hard and deep penetrations, my tongue and lips moved in concert. At first my wife took my cock back into her mouth and moved in synchrony with Ron's and my motion. Soon, it was as though she had reached a place where time, thought, and awareness disappeared for everything but the surging, rushing onslaught of an ecstatic orgasm the likes of which she had never imagined or dreamed. My cock slid from her mouth while she gasped for air and moaned in an almost inhuman exclamation of sensations beyond imagining. Her body shuddered and shook with uncontrollable waves of pleasure centered on her pussy that surged outward through the tips of her toes and the ends of her long dark hair, flowing relentlessly into the very ether of the universe in what seemed like an endless pause in time. I have no idea how long Ron and I kept up our pace, nor how long her sustained and massive orgasm continued. I only know that when Ron and I came and collapsed in exhaustion, my beautiful and very beloved wife was unconscious and bearing a look of bliss upon her face. I see that look even today, many years later, in my dreams and my fantasies. It has been more than twenty years since those days, and still I dream and fantasize about those experiences of incredible and perfect lust consumed in the intense fire of perfect sex. But alas, now in our 50s, age has taken its toll on our once trim and taught bodies, and my wife now fears exposure of her flaws more than she relishes the ecstasy we found. Perhaps she will change her mind some day. I can only hope.