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Subject: Tempest and Tryst (MF, M, cheating, video)
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The following erotic story contains adult material (i.e., highly sexual
circumstances) not meant to be viewed by persons under the age of eighteen.

Tempest and Tryst

     Sometimes when I watch Joanna having sex with Marcus, I can't believe
she's my wife.  Or better said:  I can't believe it's the same woman who
sleeps with me every night, who lives in my house, who takes care of our child
when I am away at work or on a business trip.  But it's her alright, and the
videos tell me plainly that she enjoys the time she spends with Marcus.
     The first time I saw the two of them together, it was a complete
accident, and though it took awhile for the shock to wear off, I can't say
that I was all that surprised that things had developed the way they did.  And
oddly enough, I didn't blow my top, I didn't overreact, and in fact, I didn't
even bring it up.  Oh sure, I went through quite the roller coaster ride of
emotions -- including rage, depression, quiet anger and extreme jealousy --
but it wasn't my nature to make a mess out of things, even though I did
consider, albeit briefly, packing my stuff and moving out on her.  
     Marcus had moved into the apartment building that sits on the corner of
our neighborhood, right next to our house, and it didn't take Joanna long to
spot him.  And I had to admit, he was a gorgeous man:  six feet tall, with
curly dark hair past his shoulders, a handsome face and eyes that were at once
kind, intense and inquisitive.  It didn't really bother me, either, when
Joanna pointed how attractive he was.  We weren't your average jealous couple
and had had a relatively open ten year marriage -- at least open in the sense
that neither of us ever hesitated to point other people we found attractive.
It had become a fun little game to play when we were in public.  "What about
her?" Joanna would say when an athletic teenage girl would walk by.  "How
'bout that guy?" I'd say when a youthful pretty boy came into our view.  It
was fun and mostly innocent.
     I say mostly because, like many healthy married couples, we liked to
spice up our love making with fantasies that often involved other people.  We
never exactly did roll playing, but we did make a habit of being descriptive
and vocal at times.  "Pretend I'm that young girl you saw at the mall," Joanna
would say as she unsnapped my jeans.  "Imagine I'm the sixteen year old kid
down the block," I'd whisper in her ear as I entered her.  
     These little games always seemed to involve younger people, too, so I was
taken aback a bit when Marcus entered our playfulness one night.  He appeared
to be our age -- early thirties -- and though he was certainly a pretty boy
(Joanna's preference in men), he possessed a kind of gruff manliness that
Joanna generally stays away from.
     The afternoon that I first discovered their affair came about due to a
series of freak circumstances far beyond the norm.  Our son was at school, and
Joanna had a rare day off in the middle of the week.  I had taken the car to
work and had planned to surprise by coming home for lunch -- the kind of sexy
lunch that more married couples should explore.  I had no way of knowing how
my surprise would wind up altering everything in our relationship.
     The car had been acting up for a week, but we hadn't taken to the shop
because it didn't seem that serious.  I found out how wrong we were when I
pulled into the other side of the neighborhood and the car simply gave out on
me.  Feeling lucky that I was so close to home, I decided to walk the distance
to the house, then call a tow truck from there.  All hopes of an afternoon
tryst vanished as I walked the several blocks, cursing my dumb luck the whole
way.  
     I noticed nothing unusual as I walked up to the house and came in the
screen door in front.  I wasn't particularly quiet, but neither I guess was I
particularly loud.  Otherwise, I would have been heard.  Usually, I would drop
my keys on the stand by the front door, but for stranges reasons I didn't that
afternoon.  And oddly, I didn't take my usual path to the kitchen, where I
figured Joanna would be. 
     Our house has been called a "ranch turned sideways," and indeed it is.
It is long and relatively narrow, with side yards that are bigger than the
front and back.  At first we found the floorplan annoying, but over time we'd
come to love it, expecially since our son's bedroom was in the back of the
house, just off the kitchen, and ours was in the front, leaving us a great
deal of needed privacy.  
     Normally, I walked the long corridor that ultimately connected the front
to the back of the house.  Today, though, I went through the large front room
and then into the dining room, which is connected to the kitchen by a long
nook and bar.  I got more intimate with that nook and bar that day than I ever
would have imagined.  
     Upon entering the dining room, I heard the first sounds:  muffled voices,
low moans, and quiet gasping.  I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw them.
Their backs were to me, and they faced the counter that held the sink.  Marcus
had his pants around his ankles and Joanna, with her back to Marcus, was
nearly naked.  It didn't take long to figure out what was going on.  
      Almost in a daze, I sidestepped over by the wall that held the nook and
gazed in shock at the two of them making slow, clearly enjoyable love.  "You
like that don't you?" Marcus said, barely loud enough for me to hear.
     "Yes," said Joanna, panting to the rhythm of his body as it danced
against her backside.  "It's so deep and so thick."
      I watched for a few more minutes, my heart racing, my body temperature
risen to dangerous heights.  I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing but
watch.  And listen.  As another man -- a tight, muscular, handsome man, I
might add -- made love to my wife.  I was paralyzed -- with fear, jealousy,
confusion, anger, sadness.  But the image held me motionless.
     Then, much to my amazement, I heard Joanna announcing that she was
coming, something she never did, unfortuantely, when we made love.  No doubt
with my mouth hanging open in disbelieve, I watched as her body leaped into
those all-too-familiar paraxysms of climax.  And while she was normally rather
quiet (something that happens after you have kids), she was now quite vocal as
her body swayed spasmodically from side to side, her beautiful blonde hair
sprawling as she shook her head with the orgasm.  
     Once she had finished, her body slumped forward onto the counter, and
Marcus bent down to kiss on the shoulders, on her neck, which she loves, and
finally on her mouth, when she turned to look up at him.  She smiled that
smile that made me fall in love with her in the first place and said, "That
was wonderful."
     I couldn't believe what I was hearing, nor what I was seeing.  I felt
strangely inadequate as I crouched there by the wall -- and even more
strangely aroused, though I wasn't erect.  There was something touching in all
of this, almost as if I had been allowed to see a side of my wife that she
felt too shy to show me when the two of us were alone, and as I watched, I
began to feel the anger and jealousy drifting away from my body, dissipating
in thin air.
     I was not prepared for what happened next.  With a wicked smile, Marcus
said to her, "Do you want to taste us?"  
     Joanna just smiled, turned toward him, and crouched in front of him.  
     Joanna and I had done this, and I in particular had always loved it.  But
since she had never enjoyed her own taste, we had not made it a part of our
lovemaking.  I wondered as I watched the mini-drama unfolding in the next room
if this weren't the first time for them, if it weren't simply the experimental
phase.  I discovered later, when she showed me the video tapes, that I was
wrong about that.  
     She crouched before him, and Marcus turned to face her more fully.  I got
my first view of his cock.  And I must say, the image startled me more than I
was prepared for.  Not only was his prick significantly thick, its hue was a
kind of dark olive that, with Joanna's juices glistening on the shaft,
shimmered in the aftrnoon light.  I had to admit:  it was a beautiful penis.  
     For the next five minutes, I watched in a trance as my wife pleasured
Marcus.  I had watched her go down on me in the mirror many times, but this
was an altogether different sight.  For one, his penis was larger than mine
and therefore a little intimidating for Joanna's small mouth; and for two, the
color of his shaft presented an aesthetically wonderful contrast to her own
pale skin. 
     The image gave me an erection, I admit, for better or for worse.
     Joanna did not devour his cock.  Instead she fondled the impressive shaft
with her hands and concentrated on tonguing his glans. I had been at the
receiving end of her wonderful manipulations to know why Marcus quickly got
lost in ecstasy as she fellated him.  
     His orgasm was quick and explosive, and I watched Joanna's eyes widen as
it started.  As she does with me, she let some of his seed spill so as not to
choke, and the contrast of pure white against his lovely cock had me aching in
my crotch.  I decided then and there to leave before the scene turned
dangerous.
     Once I was in the bright, hot afternoon air, my mind tumbled into a train
wreck of confusion.  I did not know what would happen now, and worse, I could
not understand the warmth and excitement their lovemaking had created inside
me.  Numb and dazed, I made it back to the car.  On a whim, I tried to start
it.  Amazingly, the engine fired, and I found myself driving out of the
neighborhood, making my way back to work, where I would spend the next several
hours awash in a tempest of emotions.  
      I felt betrayed, yes, but surely Joanna wasn't dissatisfied with me or
the marriage.  She had given no indication of either, and I knew her too well
to read suspiscion in her actions.  I felt jealous, but like a typical male, I
came to the erroneous conclusion that it was Marcus's cock that had endeared
so much, that had made her put her marriage in jeopardy.  And I felt
surprisingly light, almost airy, having witnessed a scene that any voyeur
would have been overjoyed to have witnessed.  
     The following weeks came and went like beautiful clockwork.  Nothing
changed.  Joanna and I continued to make love three-four times a week, and it
was always passionate and various as it had always been.  I did not attempt to
trap her, to catch the two of them after that first time; something about that
rubbed me the wrong way.  And ultimately, seeing that their afternoon tryst
had caused no discomfort in our relationship, I decided simply to wait for the
right time to let her know that I had seen the two of them and that, though a
little confused still, I was not angry or jealous about it.  That was at least
partially true.
     When I finally told her, Joanna cried.  But when I assured her that
everything was okay as long as she wasn't going to leave me, she cheered up.
I told her, essentially, that I couldn't bear for her to be unhapy with me and
that, if she found pleasure in her new relationship, she should pursue it.  Of
course, I made sure that she understood I didn't want our son to suffer and I
didn't want Marcus to  become a fixture in our lives.  
     As an afterthought, one night in the throes of passion I introduced
Marcus's name (and his cock) into our little fantasy play.  She grinned and
made love to me with verve and purpose.  It was a stand-out session for us.
So good in fact that, while we were enjoying the afterglow, Joanna said, "If I
tell you a secret, will you promise not to get angry with me?"
     I assured her that I wouldn't
     "I have a couple of tapes I want to show you," she said.  And when she
saw a glint in my eye, she hopped out of bed naked to pop the first one in the
VCR.  As it whirred, I couldn't help but wonder what was coming next.

El Fin


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