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Murphy’s law, Melissa sent me a text about five miles down the street, just as I turned onto the exit from the freeway in my Ford Ranger, a vehicle that I often used for personal reasons when taking a day off from my law enforcement work. I didn’t use the squad car for anything but county business if I could avoid it. As the chief peace officer for the county, I wanted to save the taxpayers excessive waste and set a good example for my deputies. For the sake of public safety and defensive driving, I waited until I pulled into the driveway to actually read said text, expecting my wife to understand the necessity of that.
The text read, and I kid you not here, “I’m a bit late at work, hon. Sorry about that. Had a sale to close and it took longer than usual. Can you get a bottle of wine, please, from the liquor store? XOXOXO.”
Out of sheer, morbid curiosity, I used the “Find My Phone” function that is used on some smartphones these days, since Melissa and I were on the same plan. Instead of being at Corbin Realty, Melissa was home, which mean that she lied to me about her whereabouts, something that when my detective mind combined with her errand for me, strongly suggested that she was covering up a tryst. Then again, I had just enslaved my two dentists through blackmail and I really hadn’t wanted to know about her infidelities in the past or have her know about mine, in case this led to ugly confrontations.
That was when it struck home: unlike me, Melissa had been a bit less discreet and failed to keep our unwritten, unspoken agreement to leave such things behind and not bring them home. Her lover was in my home, which meant that she broke our understanding and had been more reckless than usual. Further, I had a taste of power and leverage from blackmailing my dentists and it felt good. Power corrupted, they said, and I thought perhaps she had also developed a small dose of contempt for my perceived gullibility in not catching her sooner, since I was a lawman. Either that, or she really wanted to get caught, hence why she took unnecessary chances by taking her latest partner to the marriage bed in our home.
Oh, no, not this time, honey, I thought. This time, I’m not looking the other way. Time to confront things head-on and see if perhaps a new covenant could be made, one far more beneficial to me. I didn’t want a divorce, either, but if I had to get one, this one would be on better terms due to increased leverage on my part. Either way, it was to reset the tables and deal a new hand under new rules. I walked casually inside the house, not bothering to confirm that I had read the text. Let her guess if I had, I thought. It was time to face the music.
I was immediately greeted by the sight of my own wife, Melissa Corbin, bent over an armchair, her work slacks down and her pussy stuffed with about six good inches of a stranger’s cock. She was obviously having one last quickie, and from the way that she faked (yes, faked) her orgasm, she wasn’t in it just for lulz or pleasure. Then again, she clearly enjoyed herself, just not as much as she planned to do when she got the big commission from the sale. Strictly speaking, this skirted the legal definition of prostitution rather closely and just as apparently was old hat to her. Melissa’s cheating had about the Almighty Dollar more than about sex, though she didn’t exactly hate how she earned the big checks.
However, once Melissa saw my reflection in the mirror, her response changed from a phony climax to a real one, not even stopping until her partner shot out his load, bareback, into her twat. I could tell that being caught excited her in some crazy way, just as it terrified her client, once he saw me standing there, the jilted husband who like the cliché, came home at the wrong time by accident. There was no hiding or looking the other way now. My wife had brazenly committed adultery before my very eyes, not breaking up the tryst until she was good and ready.
“Sit down, both of you! Now!” my tone caught Melissa off-guard, and her smirk changed to an apparent case of anxiety and panic, even a bit of guilt and empathy, much to my surprise.
Melissa sat down in the loveseat, so I gestured for her companion to join her there. They were lovers now, at least to the naked eye. They both started to put their pants back up, but I shook my head. They both looked like deer in the headlights now, scared, frightened, even, but paralyzed by their shock and terror. I smiled, but nothing in my smile was that reassuring, nor was the tone of my voice as I now cut Melissa off before she could say a thing.
“I thought that we had an arrangement, Missy,” I said while sucking my teeth, both of which were displeasing to her, and I intended them to be, knowing how much she hated that name and my habit of sucking my teeth when agitated, “We were supposed to be discreet, and in return, we’d look the other way. How in God’s name can I do that when you’re recklessly and wantonly coupling with a client of illegal bahis your agency in my own damn living room?
“Freestyle, too! What if you infected me with something or he knocked you up? He’s Asian, sweetheart! Not being racist here, but people would know that the baby wasn’t mine. Honey, I’m the fucking Sheriff of this county! How would this look if it got out that my wife planted horns on me in my own home? This was a serious betrayal and showed real disrespect to our marriage, dear, and you know it, too!”
“Okay, you’re right, dear. I get it. I got careless and got caught, but there is a good reason for that. Why do you think that I sent you a text while you were driving, knowing that you don’t read texts while you drive? I didn’t realize it consciously until I came from being caught! Yes, that’s right! I freely admit it! It turned me on to get caught red-handed, bareback, bent over, being a whore for my client! It aroused me! Stimulated me! Excited me! Made me dripping wet!
“I’m now doubly glad that I didn’t fuck on the marriage bed, not only because that I knew would be an insult, but because this was a lot harder to hide. There it is, hon. I WANTED TO GET CAUGHT CHEATING! I confess, nothing has turned me on lately more than the idea of being caught by you in the act of adultery. In the past, it was partly the sneaking around and the taboo that excited me, the naughtiness of it. Now, it’s the idea of being embarrassed and even a little humiliated, possibly punished, for it, that turns me on so much!
“I’m sorry if I hurt or angered you in any way, but from day one, honey, you knew what I was. I was a slut. I always have been. I always will be. It’s how I am designed somehow. I’m made for debauchery, for fornication, for adultery. I wanted the respectable marriage and easy life, but I also wanted the fun and games of a wild and deviant lifestyle.
“What better way to achieve than handpicking a husband that I knew was getting some tail on the side and wouldn’t worry about my own infidelities as long as I didn’t confront him about his? Unfaithful husband and adulterous wife made a great partnership in my vision, the perfect match made in Sodom and Gomorrah. Face it, dear, we both loved our little understanding, didn’t we?” Melissa actually winked at me now and licked her lips, while her paramour sat there, more than a little astonished and terrified.
“So, why break the deal now, babe? Why flaunt your infidelities in such a way that I would have to notice them? If what we had was so great, and you have to admit that it wasn’t always, especially when you were on certain birth control pills, but overall, it worked well for us, why would you want to mess with that success, honey?” I demanded to know now.
“Because it wasn’t working for me anymore, dear. My clock is ticking, sweetie, and it’s running out faster than before. I … I want to conceive. I want to have a baby. And I want to at least partly be a housewife, at least for the near future. Kim isn’t here to land a deal to close a sale on a house. He’s here to buy my agency from me, with enough money to be set for a while, and a clear understanding that when I want back in the business, he’ll hire me back at my old office, with an even higher salary. That was the deal worth bending over for him.
“Face it, dear. As a soccer mom, and face it, I always had the potential to be that, I would want to enjoy that, and yes, when I could sneak in some time, get fucked by not only you, but others in my neighborhood. Including women, I might add. I’m kinda curious about girls lately. This would work so much better if you knew about it, babe. Less danger in terms of discovery.
“So, how about it? Can I … I mean, may I, have your permission to fool around? I swear, not only will you get as much sex as you did before, but you’ll get a lot more, especially while I’m trying to breed with you! I’m not off the Pill yet, but I will be soon, if you agree to this, and we can fuck like jackrabbits. Please, baby. I don’t want a divorce! I just want to be a MILF, a cougar, a slutty wife and kinky soccer mom. A wild housewife, if you will,” Melissa proposed, much to my shock, “And yes, I kind of like being watched while I do it. It’s got me soaking wet, just thinking about it now!”
“Well, besides the extra sex and getting to knock you up and be a father, what else is in this for me? You married a lecher, by your own admission here. You know that I’m not going to suddenly become your faithful cuckold while you slut your way around the block. I won’t go for double standards or a hotwife/wimp relationship. You do realize that, right? That door remains closed forever.
“It’s not an option, just as you’ve made it clear that we’ll never be an exclusive, monogamous couple, not that I wish us to be. If we’re going to open your side of the marriage, we need to open mine as well. A full-scale, open marriage situation, where you can fuck whomever you wish, as can I, and with a couple of other illegal bahis siteleri conditions on my side of things.
“Rule one. Respect. No belittling, humiliation, embarrassment, disrespect, or contempt. No bossing me around all the sudden. No calling me a small dick or wimp or whatever else. Are we clear? This is not going to turn into a wife-led marriage, period. That’s not happening. We’re equals, or I walk. This is non-negotiable.
“Rule two. This goes closely with respect. The living room is obviously too late to banish adultery from, and that’s okay, but be discreet and keep the blinds closed. Be careful. And keep within some boundaries. No marriage bed, at least not without permission. And screen your partners somewhat better before going bareback with them. Don’t bring home a disease. That’s just some rules that immediately come to mind. What are your thoughts so far?” I asked Melissa outright, trying to get a feel for her mindset right then … I honestly didn’t think that she intended anything malicious, but I had to be sure.
“Well, to begin with, I have absolutely no intentions of trying to impose any kind of hot wife/cuckold/chastity/wimp bullshit on you, Michael. Honey, you know me by now. Whatever mistakes I might make, whatever slump we’ve had now and then, I admire and adore you very much. I’m not sure if you quite realize how much, since I have been guilty of letting some things slip or slide at times. In fact, the way things are lately, especially the fact that you didn’t immediately drop the Big D on me, preferring to discuss this instead and save our marriage, I don’t think that I’ve ever felt such love for you as I do now.
“I’m actually very attracted to you right now, and very much want to go to bed with you … a lot. That’s kind of what I implied there. So, whatever else, you know that you’re not going to be denied, neglected, or replaced. As for double standards, hey, babe, I know that you have far too much self-respect to put up with that, and you’re not kinky that, and I have far too much respect for you to even try that. So, yes, that’s definitely out the window.
“Those other rules that you mentioned? Common sense, dear. We’re a partnership. We’re lovers. I’m your wife and I’m going to be the mother of your children, so I will do my best to show you even more of my love and lust for you in the future. I’ve never wanted to be with you more than I do now. I’m more in love with you than I have ever been in my life and our marriage.
“I know who and what you are. I know what kind of man you are, and by the way, I’ve always known, as you said. I picked a husband that I knew was a lothario. I wouldn’t even think of asking you to deny your nature, babe. I love you far too much and desire your happiness far too much to even think of it. That’s the man I love, the whole package, from the strong code of honor and, yes, strange as it sounds given our lifestyles, the strong morals of your own kind, to the basic decency and compassion, to, you guessed it, the common sense and brains to accept our little unspoken agreement, to the virility that led you to make full use of it, too.
“As for ideas, well, I like a lot of your ideas, but I do have some of my own. Okay, first of all, I do want to keep Kim as a regular lover. He would visit often, if that’s alright with you. You know, have supper with us, maybe even some threesomes if you’re in the mood for it. That’s entirely depending on both of you, of course. Maybe we can suspend the marriage bed rule now and then if you’re with us, but again that’s something that would require your consent and I would accept … and respect a refusal on your part. Period. I would never push anything on you … or on him, that either of you didn’t want.
“As for the girls, well, that’s probably an experimental thing, and I doubt that, even if I discovered that I was bi, I would be too adventurous with them once I found some ladies who were compatible with me. Being willing to sleep with you would be certainly be a factor in their favor, among others, assuming that I didn’t lose interest in women altogether, which is always possible. It could just be curiosity, after all. I would prefer to have regulars over time, if at all possible. At least those are my thoughts for now.
“The third thing, now that I’m not needing the sex to land sales, I won’t have any clients to fuck, nor any motive to whore myself out like that. The money and sex were a nice combination, but I have new and better plans to explore sexually. I want to try seducing younger men. I mean barely legal, inexperienced, college guys and seniors in high school. That sort of thing. Virile, teachable, and less prone to disease, plus more grateful.
“Before you ask where Kim fits in this, it was actually his idea, because he is bisexual and wants to sample the young men, too. He also wouldn’t mind fucking some of the same women as you and me, if possible. Oh, and when it comes to you, just look at his hard-on. canlı bahis siteleri He’s excited by even the idea of a threesome, especially if we all fucked each other.
“Anyway, those are just some notions that I have right now, babe. You have any more yourself?” Melissa probed.
“Well, in the spirit of candor, let me say that all of those suggestions are very appealing to me. The young men, the women, and Kim himself, of course. They seem understandable, safer than others, yet still taboo and alluring.
“I should confess to my own dalliances now, at least the most recent and significant ones with my dentists, Dr. Henry Harrison and Dr. Farah Zhavani. They are in not just a sexual and professional relationship with me, but a D/s one to boot, serving as my willing slaves. Long story there, but best to leave that one be, at least for now. I would also like to encourage them to visit and you to invite them over, and not just for sex. I’d like them to be friends of yours. I was going to ease them into it, but now that everything is on the table, why not encourage them to socialize with us, same as with Kim, who I would like to get to know better?
“Besides, you never know if you would enjoy their bodies, too, sweet Melissa. I think that it would be nice to at least sample each other’s lovers, but remember some boundaries and that your lover is yours first and my slaves are primarily mine. Any thoughts on that, babe?” I asked my wife, who began noticeably wetter still and squirmed as her hands wandered to her pussy.
“So … you’re a Dominant, too? A Top? God, that’s hot! At least to watch. I don’t think that I’d be into doing that as a lifestyle thing, at least not for now, though the thought of being a professional dominatrix has occurred to me now and then.
“I think that’s part of our marriage, both the good and the bad. We’re both rather independent, aggressive, some might even say, dominant people, but whereas conventional wisdom would doom us, we make it work by experiencing and enjoying that side of us with others, such as the idea of me initiating and seducing younger men … maybe some younger women, too, into sex.
“This allows us to treat each other as basically equal and respect each other’s turf, I think. Home is and always was neutral ground, not my territory or yours, but ours together. I don’t want to ruin that, of course. That’s a very good reason to keep our marriage more or less vanilla when it comes to BDSM stuff, while asserting our dominant sides with other people.
“That being said, I certainly want to meet this Dr. Zhavani and Dr. Harrison, your fine dentists/slaves. I take it that they are involved with each other as well? Feel free to invite them over. I would love to get to know them. Anyone who matters that much to you matters to me as well, as I hope that you feel about Kim. He and I are not in love per se, but we are close, as you can see. I love him, just differently than I love you.
“So, anyway, perhaps we can discuss any more deals or arrangements or rules after supper? Oh, and I really do still want that wine … Would you mind getting it and coming right back with it? I think that you’ll enjoy the results, provided that you’re also willing to relax that rule about the marriage bed, at least this once. I have an idea, if you catch my drift,” Melissa enticed me, while Kim’s dick stayed quite stiff right then and both of them licked their lips involuntarily.
“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” I told them with a wicked smile.
Sure enough, I went to grab some wine, a Merlot, from the liquor store, where I saw a very attractive young woman in the line, being given perhaps a bit too much grief by the clerk. I thought for a moment that she was, in fact, trying to use fake ID to get past the drinking age laws in our state, which as a peace officer, I was obligated to help enforce. I could have arrested her on the spot, since no sheriff is really off-duty, but I chose to look closer because a gut feeling told me that there was more to the story than met the eye.
“This here says that it belongs to a Francis Tagliatti, which is a man’s name, but your store membership here card says ‘Francesca.’ What’s going on here? Parents named both of you after the same relative? You certainly resemble him. Are you twins?” I asked in earnest, before the girl broke down crying.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetie. It’s just that I’m the sheriff. I have to look into these things. Underage drinking and phony IDs are serious matters in the eyes of the state and county. Adding the fact that you look a bit younger than him, though he’s apparently of age. Well, you get the idea,” I clarified, actually cradling her in my arms for a second before letting her go.
“Francis … that was me. Past tense. I’m … transgender. I just didn’t want to get outed in such a way, but I didn’t want to get arrested, either. Please, can’t you see that I’m really her, not him, but that this is my legal ID? It’s all part of the transition, sir. I’m on the hormones right now, in fact, and they’re making me more emotional than I used to be by far, not that I was that insensitive for a start,” Francesca clarified, her eyes growing like saucers.