Wives with Benefits: Volume Two

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Authors: Max Sebastian
for me — how could I possibly complain?
    Nights when I was asleep as she came home, invariably she’d let me sleep. Curious, I faked sleep a few times, to see what she did. She stayed downstairs a little longer than otherwise — and strangely, didn’t shower when she came up to bed. I assumed it was to avoid waking me.
    When she slipped under the covers next to me, I swear I could smell that dark, wicked scent of sex.
    That was the real proof for me.
    My wife was having an affair — and I loved it. I couldn’t get enough of her. Her new-found confidence, her efforts to dress nicer, her sexy new underwear. Everything she was doing for her new lover, it seemed both wrong and yet so hot to me.
    I was terrified, of course. I spent so much time with Mark after he first told me of the breakdown in his marriage — he needed the support — that it couldn’t help but lead me to the awful fear that my wife might suddenly decide to leave me, to move in with her lover instead.
    Somehow, the fear only strengthened my desire for Diana, and the excitement of knowing she was out late, fooling around with another man, before coming back to me. I’d spend evenings unable to get comfortable, unable to settle, my heart rate racing, my breathing irregular, my limbs tingling, my extremities cold with anxiety.
    But the heat that exploded in me when Diana came home, when she hopped out of the shower and all but threw herself on me — it made up for any of the negative feelings.
    While I waited for her at night, my time online brought me to search for advice on my condition. It couldn’t be natural, could it? Knowing that my wife was cheating on me, and finding it disturbingly erotic? But there were others out there like me. Articles, chat forums, plenty of pornography catering to the situation I found myself in.
    I spent time on the chat forums particularly, finding out about other couples and their stories. I even found myself growing bold enough to post a question of my own — laying out what was going on with me, asking the natural question, was my marriage in trouble?
    The majority view of people like me seemed to be that my marriage wasn’t in trouble, unless I failed to talk to my wife about all this. I couldn’t go on in the darkness, making assumptions about her. We were good together, but if she was sleeping with another man and I was okay with it, I had to tell her. Otherwise her own assumptions might lead her to start thinking about whether she had to choose between her new lover and me.
    And besides, if I came clean and opened up to her, perhaps she’d actually tell me some of the details about her affair. The more I thought about that particular reward, the more I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
    I waited for the right time. It was a week night, a Wednesday, the night when I was most regularly asleep when she came home because it was usually a day of heavy meetings for me at work.
    She came home and would see that the lights were off up in our bedroom, so she wouldn’t rush to come up stairs and see me, and jump into the shower.
    I’d make my move, and I’d finally tell her I knew about her affair. It would all come out, and hopefully she wouldn’t be disgusted by my weird kink — that I was okay with her transgressions.
    That was the plan, anyway.
    That night as I waited for her, I was nervous like never before. As with many a night when she was gone, I spent much of the time in a state of quiet arousal, imagining what Diana might have been up to. Sneaking back to her lover’s house, tearing off his clothes and her own, sinking to her knees to take him in her mouth.
    Squeezing his cock inside her.
    Only, this time I had the added fear of what was coming, of our little confrontation.
    Be still, my beating heart.
    Midnight. Who stays out working that late? I heard the sound of Diana pulling into our driveway, shutting off her engine, opening her car door then closing it behind her as

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