In my earlier story, "Playing the Advantage", four buddies decided that on their next four weekly poker nights they were going to try to seduce their wives – each others' wives, that is. The first night they met at Bob's house. He faked an emergency at work and the other three managed to turn his wife into a red hot slut.
"Playing the Advantage" ended there, but readers have told me they wanted to see more, maybe three parts more. My problem is that I can't make up my mind what happens next, so I am going to let you decide. As you read through this story you will come to points where the text breaks into two or more columns and then stops abruptly. To continue, click on the text choice that appeals to you.
Nancy was asleep when I got home, so I crawled into bed quietly and lay there thinking, and later dreaming, about the fantastic sex I had experienced with Cindy. That must not have been all I dreamed about, though, because when the alarm clock went off I woke up in a cold sweat with a giant knot in my stomach. 'What about next week?' my brain screamed to me.
Aye, there's the rub. Next week I'd have to pay for the incredible high I felt last night. Next week the guys are coming to my house, and it is my turn to have an "emergency" so the guys can try their luck with my wife.
I felt Nancy roll out of bed, and opened my eyes just barely enough to look at her. I must have been insane to agree to the guys' plot. Nancy looked so sexy in her nightgown. When we cooked this scheme up all three of my buddies were drooling over the possibility of getting into her pants. Hell, we were all so fucking horny that night that we were all wild to pork all the other guys' babes. But that was fantasy, and now it's about to be real.
My brain was reeling as I tried to face the unthinkable, or find some way out of it. Could I get sick next Tuesday? Convince Nancy she had to go visit her mom? Just bolt the door and not let the guys in? My desperate escape thoughts were interrupted by Nancy as she came back in from the bathroom.
"Dick! Wake up! You're going to be late for work!"
"OK, I'm awake; I'm getting up," I mumbled as I rolled out of bed. My thoughts were going to have to wait for later.
"How late did you guys play last night, anyway? You were at Bob's house, weren't you? Didn't you even think about poor Cindy?"
"It wasn't that late. We were thinking about her." God, were we ever. We were thinking of nothing but Cindy the whole evening. But of course I couldn't say that to Nancy.
I started working on my problem again on the way to work. The catch with any of the things I had thought of earlier was that they wouldn't solve the problem, only delay it. The four of us had made a solemn vow that we would each go through with our part of the bargain. If I didn't come through next week, they would insist on a make-up session four weeks later.
It was a total shock when I found myself in the office parking lot. How had I gotten here? I didn't remember anything about the trip. Did I run any red lights? Dawdle at half the speed limit? Fixate on a tail light in the next lane over and drive in mindless formation? I'd seen zombie drivers many times during my morning commutes. This morning I must have been one myself.
I shook my head and tried to pull myself together. I was lucky I didn't get myself killed, and I'd better snap out of it now. I was going to need all my wits about me, because HansonMicro was coming to negotiate a contract with us.
I did manage to focus pretty well that day, though I couldn't completely block out the continual ache in my stomach. Vince and I had a business lunch with two HansonMicro techs, so I couldn't even let down then. And I sure as hell wasn't going to let myself go zombie again on the way home.
When I got home I told Nancy I had a bad stomach ache (true!) and I wasn't sure I wanted to eat anything; maybe I'd just go to bed early. She was very solicitous, putting a 7-Up on the night stand, just in case I felt like having it, and kissing me goodnight on the forehead.
That only made me feel worse. She loved me so much! What kind of a heel would I be if I gave three horny men free rein with her next Tuesday night? On the other hand, didn't I trust her? She did love me, and she wouldn't be tempted to stray, would she? Would she?
What was I worrying about? Even if I did leave her alone with the guys, surely nothing would happen. Back in college she and I dated for three months before we went to bed together. There was no way she would let herself be seduced in three hours, let alone fuck three guys in one night. And as for the guys, I knew what they would be trying, but I also knew I could trust them not to force her in any way, so problem solved!
Of course it is true that once Nancy and I started making it she seemed to get hotter and hotter. God, we had some wild times together back then. How sad that in the five years of our marriage things have cooled off so much. What happened to us, anyway? I read somewhere that a woman's sex drive doesn't peak until her thirties. If Nancy was so horny at twenty, how is she really feeling now, five years later? She may secretly be as ready as Cindy was to spread her legs for as many cocks as she can get.
How am I going to feel, for gods sake, wherever I am this coming Tuesday night, waiting until I can come home after the "emergency"? I've read that some guys get a hard-on thinking about their wife fucking other guys, but not me. No, I can't imagine reacting that way. For me it'll be that stomach knot. It already feels as hard and heavy as possible, but I know it will get worse and worse, until it totally consumes me. Jealousy will totally consume me. I'll be crying. I may feel like the lowest form of insect life.
This is insane! I love Nancy; how could I even think of doing this to us? I've got to do something; drop out of the poker gang, refuse to respond to the false emergency, come back early, warn Nancy ahead of time, something. True, we all swore to each other that we wouldn't do anything to mess this deal up. But, come on, Dick, you also swore to love and cherish Nancy so long as you both lived. Put oaths of marriage on a balance scale with oaths of drunken poker buddies and the poker buddies don't stand a chance.
Marriage oaths, did you say? What about my oath to be true to her? What kind of a disaster am I going to have at home if I admit to Nancy that I just fucked Cindy? And how can I tell the truth about what is going to happen this coming Tuesday without admitting what happened last Tuesday? Nancy is no dummy. If I warn her about next week, she is definitely going to ask how long this has been going on. And she knows me too well not to catch me if I try to lie about it.
But what about trust? Never mind the fact that I violated Nancy's trust when I fucked Cindy, the question is, do I trust Nancy? I should, if I really love her. On second thought, never mind that never mind. I just screwed someone else's wife, and I'm hoping to screw two others. If Nancy does want to fuck their husbands, I've got no gripe coming.
| In the end I decided that I would just have to go with the plan, and hope for the best. | No, there is no way I can fuck up our marriage like this. I'll have to warn her some way. |