“She’s another sorority sister. I was there when she was a pledge. She was so appreciative to meet me. She seemed fascinated by you though. I think she was more interested in you than me, even though I was a legacy legend.”

That was clearly preposterous. My ego was flattered by the attention, but I knew that Donna’s acceptance and story was as unlikely as being washed onshore onto an island of attractive amazons that had never seen a man, and were immediately attracted to me, like I was the second coming of Adonis. I said nothing. We drove home and we talked about anything except that conversation. I sensed Donna wanted me to talk about it, and I also knew it was killing her that I didn’t.

After paying off Shelly and checking on the kids, we went to bed. I was feeling a bit amorous, being surrounded by breasts and short shorts will do that to a man. It’s a thing you don’t want to admit to your wife, even though you know she already knows that. I was also uncomfortable about the whole situation. Something felt off. Again.

I gave her a “goodnight kiss,” despite the fact I had a raging erection. I turned away to go to sleep so my boner wouldn’t be pressing against her. She spooned me. Not rare, we’d done this position before with her being the big spoon. What was unusual, was what she was whispering when I was trying to go to sleep.

“Leila’s hot, don’t you think?,” she whispered.

I sensed a trap. I had no idea what kind of trap it was. I responded as though I was tired and just wanted to go to bed, “She’s attractive. Not as attractive as you.” I yawned.

Donna started nibbling my ear, “I think she was into you. She’s so young, I bet she’s wild in bed. I’ve heard there isn’t anything she won’t do.”

That was something I’d never heard from her. I had always been worried about someone sweeping Donna away, I never thought she’d have her own insecurities. As soon as I thought that, it took me only seconds to realize this wasn’t what it was about. Donna was never insecure. For some reason, she was putting thoughts in my head of another woman. I was trying to consider the reason, and it wasn’t helped by her nibbling and dialogue and the fact Leila was attractive. It’s hard to think with an erection.

I dissembled. “Donna, if you want her, I have to say ‘No.’ I appreciate you asking permission, but I really want us to be exclusive. Just because it’s with a woman doesn’t mean I won’t feel threatened.” I was ready to be punched in the face.

Donna did pause nibbling on me. For a moment. Then she kissed the back of my neck. “Not for me, you know I don’t swing that way.” She gave me little bites. She knew my sensitive spots.

I let her continue for a bit. I was getting really horny. Then I said sarcastically, “Do you want me to fuck her? Would that make you happy?”

That stopped her lips on me. “Yes. Yes! YES! Fuck her. I’m going crazy. Yes I fucked up and agreed to this. I proposed it. Just fuck a woman, any woman. Enjoy it. Feel no guilt. Just do it because this is crushing me. Let me just be a wife and you be a husband and we talk about and agree about stuff together! I can’t take this anymore.”

It was a rant. How do you respond to that? Sex was clearly not going to happen after that monologue. Donna had agreed to a path she presented, and now was having buyer’s remorse. I was loving it. There was no woman I wanted to have sex with worth ruining this. Donna and I still had a great sex life and she was still physically attractive. So how do you console a woman that is wanting you to have sex with another woman because she wants to back out of the deal she proposed? I just hugged her and didn’t say a word. That turned out to be the right choice for that evening, despite my throbbing erection.

Life continued on as usual. I was more sensitive to the minor things Donna liked than I had been. I acquiesced to all of them, and even went a bit further with enthusiasm. On the important ones I was resolute. I got that she was feeling a lack of control. She got that I was acknowledging that and was showing her love in this paradigm. I thought we’d adjusted to a new normal. Donna understood that I liked the life we had more than any sexual fling. That was my reality until it wasn’t.

One day I went to work and got a voicemail from a Mrs. Sneider. She lived in Phoenix and wanted to talk to me about a specialized pool. I called her back and set up a time to look at her place. It was a fairly normal conversation except for one thing. The voice sounded slightly familiar but I couldn’t place it.

That voice was Carmen LaGaretta. I discovered that when I arrived at her place. I rang the doorbell as I’d done several times, and the door opened and there she was. She was dressed in a tank top and shorts, not unusual attire in a place known for heat. She looked hot. The shorts fit her body like they had been drawn on her. Her breasts couldn’t be ignored even though she was clearly wearing a bra. I was flabbergasted and didn’t speak. I knew her husband’s last name was “Sneider,” but I never even thought it could be Carmen LaGaretta. I was thinking I’d gone to the wrong place.

Carmen spoke first, “So you’re Donna’s husband.”

Her voice was friendly. Her smile was friendly. Her eyes screamed, “That bitch.”

I just said,”I am.”

Carmen’s voice was all sweetness and light. “I love that woman, we were in a sorority together. I love her so much, we were so close in college. Besties actually. It’s so nice to finally meet the husband of my sorority sister. Please come inside.”

I followed her inside in a state of shock. This was a woman that I’d seen onscreen and fantasized about. Donna had also been onscreen, but this was different. Donna was a professional journalist who did the news. Carmen was an actress best known for playing characters that were sexual and had simulated sex. I assumed it was simulated, even though it looked really convincing.

Carmen took me to the backyard. Of course there was already a pool there. Anyone in the city that could afford a pool had one. The pool was like many pools in the area, standard issue. It made sense that she’d want something special, or her husband did. Both of them were exposed to other pools from the rich and famous and probably wanted to project an image. I was here for an upgrade. It wasn’t the first time I’d been asked to do something like this.

Carmen was incredibly flirtatious, and that is an understatement. She made incidental contact. She bent over so I could see her cheeks poking out of those short shorts. She also showed her cleavage at every opportunity by just adjusting her pose or leaning into to me while I was discussing possible designs. She also patted my ass.

I tried to ignore all that. How often does lightning strike twice? This was just Carmen, of course sex was her brand. She was probably just was looking for a discount. I did get an erection though, and Carmen noticed it.

While I was mumbling something about the cost of turning her pool into something she seemed to want, she said, “Do you need to go to the bathroom and take care of your little head, so your big head can do the thinking?”

I could have died then. A bullet to the head would have been merciful. After way too long for a response to be taken as natural, I said, “Carmen, I think you may have-“

That was as far as I got before she interrupted my awkward start of a sentence, “I’m sure you’ve masturbated thinking about me.”

“I haven’t.” That was an honest response. I did realize at that moment that the only woman I had lied to was Donna. I put that thought on hold, following that road would just lead to uncomfortable issues. I was in a sexually charged moment with Carmen, best to focus on that. Since I’d met Donna, Carmen was the last person I’d masturbate to, if I imagined anyone else than Donna while masturbating.

She laughed. “I’m not offended if you did. I like the idea that there are men out there stroking themselves at the thought of me.”

“It’s true. I didn’t discover your films until I was dating Donna. I’m a one woman guy, even when I masturbate.” That was true. Every time I’d done it since I’d been with Donna, I only thought of Donna. Granted, sometimes I thought of Donna doing things she’d never do, but the image in my head was always Donna. Call me pussy whipped or whatever, I’m proud to be whipped by that pussy. Carmen didn’t seem to believe it. Or maybe she did, by what came next.

“That’s too bad. If a man won’t masturbate to my image, I’m not interested in having sex with him.”

I have no idea why I said what I said next. I think it was me bluffing to get out of an uncomfortable situation. “I only masturbate to nude women.” That wasn’t even true. I’d masturbated to images of women who’d I’d never gotten a naughty glimpse of. I’d masturbated to cartoon characters. Jessica Rabbit was a staple. So was Minerva Mink, a more obscure character. I really did think I was trying to shut it down. I still believe that.

That’s when she removed her blouse.

Her tits looked just like they had in every moment captured by cameras. Age had been kinder to them than to Donna’s. That wasn’t exactly a fair comparison, Donna had fed two babies. That put her at a disadvantage.

I could have retreated and said I was joking. I didn’t. I said, “That’s not complete nudity.” I still insist I was looking for an escape, to my dying day that is my story and I’m sticking to it. It was stupid to think she wouldn’t show me the rest. She’d done it on film a number of times. Maybe I was just stalling and trying to find a way out. While my mind was in turmoil, she got completely naked. Carmen didn’t do it fast, she just took the amount of time necessary to do it. I had so many opportunities to back out. I was just mesmerized.

I’d seen her pussy on film several times. At times she was completely shaved. Other times her bush was neatly trimmed. Now it was hairy. She saw my eyes riveted there. She seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

“I’m doing a bit part in a 70’s film. I’ve showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

I’d called what I thought was her bluff, and she’d called my actual bluff. Now what? Now what indeed.

I dropped my pants, with a bit of difficulty since I had to work around my erection. My pants and underwear were around my ankles. This was worse than when I was a teenager. I’d had hand jobs and blow jobs in situations like this. I’d never just dropped my pants and felt like I was auditioning.

Carmen just watched with a predatory look while I eventually presented myself with a full erection, “Stroke it for me.”

That voice. That moment. It was the point of no return. Those are my thoughts in hindsight. What I did was just grabbed my shaft and started slowly pumping it. I watched her as I did. She didn’t say a word. She just smiled. I pumped it harder and harder. She just kept her eyes on me and kept her magnificent body on display. I was getting close and it must have been obvious to her. I wasn’t sure about just shooting my stuff. She made that choice easy.

“I want to see it fly.”

I stroked my cock faster. Lack of lubrication was a problem, so I just had to make my cock submit to my will. I’d apologize to it later. I wanted her to see me come in a forceful way. I was silent while I stroked, concentrating on my task. I let it loose all over the hardwood floors. I was pleased to see it was a lot. I know women don’t care about the volume, but it still made me feel proud.

“Why don’t you clean up while I clean up the mess.”

I went to the bathroom. I did the usual stuff to make sure I had no sticky underwear to wash later. I also took time to examine myself in the mirror to make sure that I still looked presentable and hadn’t bitten my lip or something. When I got back, Carmen was fully dressed. I was disappointed. I got over it quickly when she said, “I think you are the right man for what I want. You’re hired.” That voice was mischievous and so, soooo sexy. It promised more adventures to come.

At the first opportunity, I talked to Gonz and told him the story.

“It was crazy. She sat seductively on the couch and asked me to masturbate. I so did that. She encouraged me every step of the way.”

Gonz was into it, “That’s totally hot. Was she masturbating as well?”

“No, but she was completely naked though. She was just watching me and told me to cum. I came so hard.”

Gonz was excited as a good friend should be. “On her tits?”

“No. I came on the floor. We weren’t touching. She was doing her thing and I was doing mine.”

“What was her thing?”

“Watching me come, Gonz.”

“Awesome! Then what happened?”

“We both cleaned up.”

When you know a friend as long as I’ve known Gonz, you know every expression. I can’t really describe the exact look he gave at that moment, but it was like a good friend that doesn’t want to tell you bad news, but does it because he’s a friend.

“That is the worst sex story ever.”

“You had to be there.”

Gonz ordered another round before he continued, “So you just… masturbated in front of her. You just broke your agreement.”

“What do you mean?”

“You had an affair.”

I tried to explain it to him. “It’s not an affair. She wants me to come back, so it could become one. Maybe.”

“So you can masturbate while she watches in every room in the house? Christening the kitchen by masturbating while the naked woman watches and claps? Wow. Living the dream.” Gonz raised his glass in a toast.

“Oh shit. I screwed up, didn’t I?”

Gonz gave me his not-judging, but judging look. That look always meant to me to pause before responding and think about things. While I was doing just that, he said, “Think what you’re giving up. All of the things. All of them.”

I did think about it in the few seconds I had to consider it. My answer was, “Yeah, but it’s Carmen LaGaretta.”

“Is one woman worth giving up everything you have?”

“It’s Carmen LaGaretta.” That should have settled the argument, as far as I was concerned.

“How special can her pussy be? Does she have a magic vibrating one?”

“Come on. Wouldn’t you consider it for her?”

“No. She’s got a hot bod, but so do other women. She’s not even a good actress.”

I bristled a bit here. “I think she’s good for the roles she’s cast in.”

“Yeah, but you said good, not great. The attraction you feel is a fantasy from watching her on film. You have been happy. For years you’ve been telling me how ecstatic you’ve been with Donna going along with everything you want. You really want to give up that part of your life for a fantasy fuck?”

I said in my calm voice, “Gonz. You have a great point. I appreciate your wisdom.”

It was very good advice. It really was. I ignored it. I mean, since when in my life had Gonz been the voice of reason?

After that, I had to pretend everything was normal with Donna. I hadn’t really done anything wrong, Carmen and I didn’t actually have sex. So why was it harder for me to act around Donna like nothing had happened?

Planning my three weeks with Carmen took some coordination. I booked a ticket to Florida, on the pretense I was meeting a client there, then a return flight to Phoenix. Yes, I’d been given the option of screwing someone. So I could have just told Donna I was planning to going to have sex with Carmen.

I couldn’t. It was an elaborate deception. First, I wasn’t sure that would happen. Second, it was with her nemesis. So I told Donna I was going to be in Florida. More lies. At this point I was rationalizing that I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I wanted to preserve the illusion that I was working. Mainly I was trying to keep from her I was going on a fuck date with the last person she could possibly have had in mind when she offered the option of me having an affair of equal length.

Donna offered to drive me to the airport. I declined that offer. I had reservations about her driving me to a hoped for a rendezvous with Carmen, the woman she hated above all others on the planet. Sure, she would technically be dropping me off to fly to Florida. It still didn’t feel right.

I arrived at Carmen’s place. I had no idea what to expect.

Carmen said, “You’re not here about the pool.”

Well, that was wrong. I was there for the pool. “I am. My art is important to me.” The way she said what she said though, did make me question my motives. She had a way of saying anything that dripped with sex.

She gave me a smile that seemed so normal, yet her voice carried a different meaning, “I know. You create good art.”

I think I was sweating when I said, “It’s why I’m here.”

Then she went from innuendo, to single entendre. “If that’s the only reason, you can leave. There are many other men that can design pools. Is that your final answer?”

The way she said it… it was a combination of taunting and indifference. It was like she really didn’t care if I left. It was also simultaneously like she wanted me to stay. My brain finally sorted it out. She wanted me to say I wanted her. I was here because I hoped she wanted me. Now I was having stupid thoughts. Fuck it.

I said, “I’m happy to design a pool for you. But if I’m not getting the second best sex of my life with you, stop the teasing.”

“Second best?”

“Donna is always going to be the best. It doesn’t matter what we do, there’s a familiarity there.”

“I take that as a challenge. I also appreciate your honesty. Let me set the scene to allow me to be second best.”

Carmen seemed to understand everything I was saying. Somehow she convinced me to give her the shot at “Second best.” Those were my words. I was tied to the bed naked and spreadeagled.

She straddled me and her bush was tantalizingly close to my mouth.

“You fantasized about eating me.” She said this like it was a known fact. If she had delivered it without emotion or taking it for granted, I might have been offended. The way she said it made me feel she was excited by it. I was as well.

Words failed me. So I said, “Yes.”

I licked her with my tongue. Then she pulled that bush out of range.

“Then eat me.”

She dipped her pussy back into range. I used my tongue to get a few licks in. Then she maddeningly pulled away again. I extended my tongue as far as I could. It wasn’t close enough. Then she barely got close enough where I could just graze her.

“Don’t you want me baby?”

I softly said, “Yes.” I wanted to grab her hips and pull her onto my face. I couldn’t though. I tried. The restraints couldn’t be overcome. They were tight. Donna’s always could have allowed her to break free. I was bound and at her mercy.

She lowered herself again, a bit closer this time. “You do?”

I darted my tongue out, tasting her. For about two seconds. Then she pulled away again.

“I didn’t hear an answer. I’ll take that as a ‘No.'”

I managed to choke out, “Carmen, I do. I really do.”

She hovered over me again. She wasn’t in range of my tongue this time. She was barely out of reach. She used her fingers to open her folds, then started pleasuring herself. “You say it, but you aren’t making me believe it.”

I was pulling at my restraints trying to get closer to her pussy. It was so tantalizingly out of range and she just kept touching herself. “Carmen! I want you.” It was not a whisper now.


I had never been loud during sex. Vocal yes, loud no. Donna and I had kids after all. I let it loose. “Carmen! I want you! Let me taste you!”

She dipped down again and said, “Eat me. Feast on me.” Part of me was still worried she’d pull away again. That moment was brief. She stayed there. She stopped talking in sentences. All I heard as my tongue explored her were words like “there,” “more,” “fuuuck,” or noises of pleasure.

She finally mounted me. I had never wanted my cock in a pussy so badly.

A thought occurred to me. “Are you on birth control?”

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