Penny's Promiscuity Ch. 02: Persuasion

The radio beeped the hour, brining me back to the present. Frowning at my inner thoughts, I pulled my dressing gown around me and made another cup of tea before returning to my laptop to check my emails. Not my 'real life' emails; they came to my phone and iPad. No, I wanted to check the new email account I had set up specifically for correspondence under the new online persona I had created for my writing.

There were two new messages, both feedback from one of the sites I had chosen to publish my stories. As usual I opened them anxiously, fearing another Troll attack but to my relief this time they were both positive – very positive in fact.

One was anonymous, the author praising the story and to my delight, the style of writing, hinting that he had personal experience of the cuckold lifestyle himself. The writer of the other feedback offered to tell me all about his own history as a cuckold and added a few sentences as an example of his experiences. I noted the email address. Unlike many of the messages I received, this one had at least a ring of legitimacy about it. I dashed off a quick reply, accepting the offer. After all, I could always learn something new.

My replies sent, I refilled my mug and re-read the previous day's message from Richard. I looked forward to receiving his messages; Richard had been a godsend, proving more than just helpful in helping me understand what made a man actually want to have an unfaithful wife. Although he hadn't done it himself, he could understand why a man might even want to watch her being unfaithful in the way my own husband Peter seemed genuinely and increasingly to desire from me.

As I read once again how Richard's wife Barbara had met and chosen her various lovers; how she had told him all about them; how he was allowed to veto them only for reasons of safety or sanity; how honesty and openness was so vital in a cuckold relationship, I wondered more and more about Pete's fantasies.

Would he really derive pleasure from my infidelity in real life as well as in our fantasies? Certainly his pressure on me to at least consider taking a lover and eventually let him watch us 'in flagrante delicto' had become relentless. Even last night, his performance seriously hampered by alcohol, he had tried to begin a sex fantasy about me with our apparently hugely-endowed Jamaican window cleaner. If I'm honest, the fantasy had had quite a strong appeal for me too but, as I had expected, Pete had fallen asleep before we could get properly started.

But even if he was genuinely interested, apart from the obvious disturbing issue of infidelity, there were so many other questions:

What might it be like making love to someone new after more than twenty years of monogamous marriage? What might it feel like to have another man's cock inside me, his mouth on mine; his hands on my body? Might I actually reach the orgasm that had been denied to me for so long? How would I feel coming home to Peter afterwards? Overwhelmed by guilt? Deeply satisfied? Or would he insist on being there all the time, watching? How would it feel to have sex in front of someone else?

But for every exciting positive there were so many negatives:

Who would I want to sleep with anyway, given the choice? Did I even have a choice at my age? And would that man want to sleep with me, a fifty-plus year old mother of two grown-up kids? And even if he did want me, would I dare expose my middle-aged post-childbirth body to him? And most importantly, could our marriage possibly survive if I did take a lover – or more than one as Pete's fantasies seemed to demand?

There were far too many questions and not enough answers, despite the best efforts of Richard and my other pen pals.

The sound of Pete moving about upstairs stirred me from my reverie and I quickly closed the e-mail account on my laptop, replacing the page with an on-line recipe and deleting my browsing history. I had no reason to think Pete ever spied on my internet use, but I wasn't entirely sure and didn't want to take any chances – at least not yet.

As I boiled the kettle again I wondered what was going through my husband's mind at that moment. I smiled; with him nursing a red wine hangover, whatever he was thinking was unlikely to feature me at all!

I placed two steaming cups of tea on a tray and carried them up to the bedroom.

To my surprise, the room was full of the sound of running water as I placed the drinks on my dressing table. The bed was rumpled and empty so it didn't take a genius to work out that Pete was in the shower and I nervously crossed towards the door to the en-suite bathroom to see how he was feeling. Given his wine consumption the previous evening, I was expecting the worst but when he saw me through the shower's steamed-up glass wall, he greeted me cheerfully, his voice raised over the noise of the rushing water.

"What?" I asked, unable to hear him properly and immediately annoyed with his demeanour. How dare he not have the hangover he deserved after being so drunk last night?

"How's my little Hotwife this morning?" he repeated jokingly, wrong-footing me for a moment.

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly, not hearing the name properly and adding "I'm as tall as you!" in an attempt to sound less cross.

I heard Peter laugh as he turned off the water, opened the shower door and stepped out onto the mat.

"I mean that you looked absolutely stunning last night," he explained quickly and, it seemed, honestly.

He took the fluffy white towel I was holding and began to dry himself. For a moment I was struck my how good looking my husband still was for a man in his mid-fifties; his face was still handsome, his body toned, tanned and fit, if perhaps excessively hairy everywhere other than on his head.

"That new Paul Smith dress looks even sexier than I hoped," he continued, wrapping the damp towel around his waist. "And it really showed off your shape."

Despite being slightly embarrassed I felt more than a little pleased. The new dress had been a very recent birthday present from Pete and I had felt very good wearing it at the dinner party. Quite short, close fitting and colourful, it was intended to highlight my long, slim legs but I had been concerned that it also drew attention to my exceptionally flat chest, made even flatter by our recent extra visits to the gym. I could feel myself blushing a little but he hadn't finished.

"And I wasn't the only person to notice, was I?" he asked as he turned to face me, a rather smug, knowing expression on his face.

"Don't be silly," I chided, wondering what he was driving at and silently praying he hadn't noticed Tony's wandering hands as we had said our goodbyes.

"I'm serious. At least two men in the room couldn't keep their eyes off you all evening – three if you include me!"

He sipped his tea as he paused, looking me up and down. I involuntarily pulled my robe tighter around my body in a gesture a rookie psychology student would have recognised as defensive.

"Does it make you feel good? Feel attractive, knowing that you're being admired like that?" he asked, apparently honestly.

"Don't embarrass me, Pete..." I began, staring uncomfortably at the floor but he interrupted me.

"Because it makes me feel good knowing other men are looking at you and finding you as stunningly attractive as I do!"

I raised my eyes to look at his, looking for evidence of irony or teasing. I found none but he still hadn't finished.

"Knowing they're undressing you with their eyes right in front of me and thinking what they'd like to do with you. It's a real turn-on, Penny!"

"Pete!" I exclaimed, "Don't say that! I've never done anything to encourage..."

"I know," he insisted. "That's what makes it such a turn on. You're becoming sexier and sexier without even knowing it. Ever since we started our fantasies you've been getting more confident, holding yourself taller, dressing more daringly, moving more sexily. And you don't even realise you're doing it!"

I just looked at him blankly. Could this be true?

"Look at last night's dress. It's tight fitting and comes less than half way down your thigh." I began to protest but he held up his hand. "Yes, I know you were wearing tights too but think about it! A year ago you'd never have dreamed of wearing anything that revealing. Now, you wear it happily and look incredible in it!"

I was thunderstruck! Was he right? My mind rushed to all the other clothes I'd worn recently, whether I'd chosen them myself or Pete had bought them for me. Perhaps he was right! Certainly they were different – shorter, tighter, classier than the rest of my wardrobe. But if it was true, what could it mean?

Had I been sending out the wrong messages for months without even knowing it? And were they wrong?

"I'm sorry," I mumbled as he came closer to me. "Have I been making a fool of myself? Have I... Oh Jesus!"

I stepped back from him, my eyes fixed on the front of his towel which had tented out to an almost comical degree, forced away from his legs by what could only be a massive erection. Always long and slender rather than short and thick, the slimness of Pete's cock had at least partly contributed to my lack of orgasms over the last twenty years but to be honest the main culprit had been the looseness in my vagina I had suffered ever since I had torn badly 'down there' giving birth to our younger children nineteen years before.

Whatever its dimensions might be, Pete's cock was now making its presence very obviously felt. He glanced down at himself, then looked back at me and laughed.

"See? You're having that effect on me now and you're not even dressed! Just think what effect you were having on poor Tony last night!"

He pulled me closer, opening my robe until his towel-covered erection pressed against my lower belly through my nightie. It felt large and hard against my skin as I slowly put two and two together.

"You weren't really drunk at all, were you?" I stated rather than asked.

"Perhaps a little tiddly," he confessed, kissing me on the end of my nose. "I couldn't have driven home but I thought you might feel a bit less inhibited if you thought I wasn't in any state to object." He laughed and kissed me again. "It worked, didn't it?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, a dull feeling in my tummy meaning I suspected I knew the answer.

"I mean that a certain gentleman pushed his luck even further than usual last night, didn't he?" I felt my robe being slipped off my shoulders and fall around my ankles. "I mean that a certain pair of hands spent rather a long time around here... and here."

Pete's hands were on my buttocks, raising the hem of my short nightie to expose my bare flesh, then squeezing my cheeks gently, kneading them firmly before teasing them apart to let his long middle finger run the length of my cleft, forcing my body against his.

"Pete, I'm not in the mood...please...." I tried to say but my body was already giving the lie to my words as his searching finger found the base of my slit from behind.

"Jeez Penny, you've not been as wet as this for a long time!" he whispered in my ear as his finger slid along my slit and delved inside my body. The angle was awkward, restricting his movements but it felt surprisingly good for such a crude attempt at seduction.

"Is it because you're thinking of him doing this?" he hissed.

Pete removed his hand from my bottom and moved it round to my lower belly from where access to my vulva was so much easier. His palm cupped my pubic mound and a single finger slipped the full length of my slit. Instinctively I opened my legs a little. He stroked my swelling, moistening lips in long, slow strokes, dipping between the folds of flesh into the dampness that was oozing from my body.

"Mmmm. Pete, no I... Mmmm!"

But it felt so very nice! My legs began to tremble a little and I realised that unbelievably after so many years of familiarity, I was becoming incredibly aroused by my own husband's rather crude fingering.

"Did you want Tony to touch you last night?" he asked, his voice low and hard. "Did you want him to lift up your new dress? To lower your tights and panties to your knees? To slip his finger into you like this?"

Suddenly my husband's finger was deep within me, moving rapidly against the inside of my mound. My trembling knees buckled for an instant before I caught myself again.

"Oh Pete," I heard myself moaning as my arms rose around his shoulders to steady myself. "I've not washed, I'm not clean."

My protests were weak and were completely ignored as he backed me to the bed. My knees bent, my legs lowered me down until I perched on its rumpled edge. I didn't resist.

"I don't care," he whispered. "Just like Tony wouldn't have cared last night. He'd have stripped you like this!"

Before I realised what was happening, Pete had pulled my nightie quickly up and over my head leaving me naked.

"He would have pushed you to the floor like this!"

He suited his actions to his words and a moment later I was lying on my back on the bed with my husband's strong body looming over me.

"He'd have spread your thighs like this!"

His strong hands were on my knees, easily parting my skinny legs, spreading me wide open until I could feel the cool air in the room on my dripping wet vulva.

"He'd have taken out his cock."

I could feel the head of his long, thin erection parting my outer lips, then my inner lips, then pausing with just its tip inside my body.

"And he'd have got you ready to fuck, Penny; hard, right in front of me whether I objected or not."

But to my frustration he didn't thrust into me. Instead, he held himself still with just half the head of his cock in the entrance to my vagina. I felt so aroused, so turned on that the torment was almost unbearable.

"Please..." I began to whimper, thrusting my hips forwards as if to swallow up more of his wonderful cock but he moved back a little to keep himself tantalisingly poised at my entrance.

"Tell me how you feel Penny!" he commanded. "Tell me how much you want him to fuck you!"

"Pete! Please!" I protested weakly but the heat within me was growing all the time.

"Tell me Penny! Admit it! Tell me that you wanted him to fuck you! Tell me how badly you wanted his cock inside you!"

"Oh my God!"

"You wanted his hands inside your panties, didn't you? When he was groping your bottom, you didn't want him to stop, did you?"

"Pete..."

"Did you?"

"Oh God! No I didn't!"

There! I'd said it! And deep down I suddenly understood that it was true; I really had wanted to let him go further – much further than my sense of propriety would ever have allowed.

"That's my girl!" Pete said triumphantly, wriggling his hips so the head of his cock moved quickly back and forth in my sensitive entrance. "I knew you wanted him last night. You wanted his hand deep between your sticky thighs, didn't you?"

He pressed himself the merest half inch further into me. My body jumped. It felt wonderful, almost as if it wasn't my husband inside me at all; as if it was my seducer taking me for the first time.

"Yes, I wanted it!" I cried back.

"You'd have sucked his cock too if you'd had the chance, yes Penny?"

"Mmmm... Yes!"

"Yes what?"

"Yes I'd have sucked his cock!"

"Good girl! Now what would his cock feel like, Penny? In your mouth?"

A clear, vivid image filled my mind as I replied, "Long and thick, choking me..."

"As big as mine? Tell me, Penny!"

"Bigger! Much bigger!" I hissed, guessing the answer he wanted to hear.

I must have guessed correctly if the sudden tensing of my husband's body was anything to go by followed by the sharp thrust of his long slim cock deep into my vagina and its rapid withdrawal back to my entrance.

"Oh yes!" I gasped, feeling the base of his cock stretch me slightly, then withdraw.

"You like big cocks, do you? You want to feel a huge cock inside you, do you?"

"Oh yes!"

"You'd have laid back and spread yourself for him, wouldn't you?"

"Pete, please..."

"Wouldn't you Penny? Despite the ring on your finger you'd have spread your legs for him?"

He thrust deep into me again then pulled back to my entrance. It felt so very, very good!

"Yes! Yes I'd have spread my legs!" I croaked, loving his teasing yet desperate for him to take me properly.

"Right in front of me?" he asked, his voice hard, dipping a third time deep into my vagina.

"Yes! Oh God! That feels good! Yes, right in front of you! As if you weren't there!"

I could feel myself sinking deeper and deeper into the fantasy, the images before my closed eyes getting more and more vivid as I listened to the hard voice.

"He'd have mounted you in front of me, wouldn't he, Penny?"

"Yes!"

Pete's cock, still stationary in my entrance was driving me half mad with arousal.

"His body over yours, forcing your legs apart!"

"Mmmm!"

"Open for him, Penny. Spread your thighs for your lover!"

Without hesitating, I opened my legs as wide as I could. Pete's cock dipped deep into me again then pulled back. I gasped then whimpered.

"Christ Penny! I've not seen you this turned on for years!" he hissed. "You want him to fuck you now, don't you?"

Almost beyond speech now, I just nodded.

"Say it, Penny!" he growled. "Tell me how badly you want him!"

To my delight I felt his long, slim cock begin to penetrate me slowly and smoothly and repeatedly.

"Oh yes!"

"Tell me, Penny! Tell your cuckold husband what you want!"

"Mmmm... I want you to..."

"You want who?" He half yelled over me as his strokes increased in speed.

"I want him to..."

"You want him to do what?" The strokes were now regular, long, deep and rhythmic.

"Oh God! Please... I want him to... I want him to... FUCK ME!" My voice was barely recognisable as my own.

"But you're married, Penny! What about your husband?" His strokes were growing faster and faster.

"I don't care! Fuck my husband! Fuck everything! Just keep fucking me!"

In my extreme arousal I was lubricating like crazy. I realised to my horror that this was making my already loose vagina even more slippery and depriving me of some of the sensation I craved so badly. I tried to improve the situation by clamping down with my pelvic floor on my husband's shaft and was briefly rewarded with the thrilling sensation of his ridges rubbing against my inner lips. In response, Pete's thrusts became faster and deeper still.

"Oh yes! Yes! That was... fucking great, Penny!"

His thrusts began to grow more violent. I began to moan.

"Moan girl! Moan as he fucks you! Tell me what it feels like to have his cock inside you instead of mine?"

"Bigger! Better!" I gasped, hoping it was what he wanted to hear. It seemed to be just that.

"What do you need?" he asked harshly, "What would you beg for?"

"Pete... Oh God! I need cock!"

"What sort of cock, Penny? Tell me!"

"Big cock! Thick cock!"

Dimly realising the truth of this, I clamped down on him again, tightening myself as hard as I could and holding on as long as my pelvic floor would allow. Pete grunted in delight; his smooth strokes became shorter, sharper uncontrolled thrusts.

"Oh my God!" he exclaimed coarsely, "I'm going to cummmmm!"

A voice inside me yelled 'No! Not yet! I'm not ready!' but it was too late. Within seconds my husband's handsome face directly above mine had become ugly and contorted as his climax began in earnest. His thrusts, already violent became wild and painful as his powerful body slammed repeatedly into mine and his ejaculation began.

For what seemed an age, his cock throbbed deep within me as his thrusts slowed to a halt and his spermless semen filled my body. I had come much closer to orgasm than I had for a long time but still hadn't made it all the way.