Thanks guys, appreciate the comments. Randy, I didn't realize that I was gone THAT long!
Cliffa, good to hear from you again. I think you're right, Kevin is in a hole and digging furiously.
True GH, it seems most pleasure has to be accompanied by at least a little guilt. (and I'm not even Jewish!) Makes one wonder why we do that to ourselves, doesn't it?
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I had time to think and try to sort out my thoughts and feelings though, because Stef stayed holed up in our room for the next several hours. Finally, the noon hour long past and my stomach grumbling furiously, I wandered out to the kitchen to fix myself a sandwich. On a whim I fixed a second, put each on a plate with some chips, and carrying both plates and a couple cans of icy cold Pepsi walked back to our bedroom. I tapped on the door with my toes, my hands full. "Stef? Hey baby, open the door - I have a peace offering."
I was greeted first with silence, then a tentative "It's not locked."
"OK, but my hands are full. Can you please let me in?"
Nothing for a few moments, as if she was still considering if she wanted to see me, then I heard the bed squeak, and a few moments later the knob turned and the door slowly opened. She stood there, tiny and beautiful in the same thin t-shirt - her only garment - that she'd worn earlier. It hugged her curves closely and reached just below her hips, like a very short dress, and was an incredibly sexy look on her, but now she just looked sad and vulnerable. I could see that she'd been crying. She looked at the plates in my hands. "I'm really not all that hungry Kevin."
"Well, we need to eat something. Plus, it will help your stomach if you're still a little queasy. C'mon Stef, we need to talk anyway, OK?"
She took her plate and one can from me, and I followed her back to the bed. She curled her legs beneath her as she sat on her pillow, her back against the headboard. I sat on the edge of the bed, our plates between us and our takes on the night stand. We ate in silence, the atmosphere strained and uncomfortable in this place where we had always shared so much pleasure and intimacy, a painful distance where before had been a loving closeness. She did in fact turn out to be completely ravenous, quickly devouring her sandwich, and when we were finished and our plates stacked aside we just looked at each other. Or rather, I looked at her. She would look at me, then away, then back, her eyes searching my face as if seeking something before again lowering her gaze.
My heart ached with her beauty, and for her obvious suffering. Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "I'm sorry."
At last her eyes met mine. "Are you?"
"I am Stef, I really am. I'm not even sure why this all bothers you so much, but it does, so let's drop it. I won't ever talk about the nights at the theater again, and won't bug you about going back, ever, unless you decide you want to." I hesitated, giving her an opening to respond, but she just continued to study me. I pushed on. "We don't have to play the fantasy games anymore either, if you don't want to. I just... you know, I guess I thought you were enjoying it! You seemed to be." I shook my head. "I mean, it's a fun fantasy for me, something I thought we enjoyed together, but the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I love you too much to knowingly do that!"
She looked at me for a long time as my words trailed off and the silence resumed. Finally she gave me a small, enigmatic smile. "We don't have to stop everything Kev. I enjoy it, I do, and you know that. I'm just afraid..."
She paused, and I prodded. "What?"
"Well, it's sort of like a gateway have, isn't it? I mean, we enjoy the fantasy and the role playing, it's exciting and fun but then that gets a little old. So we go to the theater and we watch that guy jerk off - which was fine, it's just a little voyeurism - but then we want to push that envelope too and I wind up, the next time, playing with another man's cock until he comes on me. Where does it end?"
I was a little fetishd up - and a little aroused. "Where do you want it to end?"
She turned that question back on me. "Where do you want it to end?"
I had to stop and carefully consider my answer, I knew that, but I also wanted to be honest with her before forever slamming the door on this aspect of our lives. "I don't know. Wherever you do, I guess. I mean, I find it arousing, intensely so, to think of you making love to other guys. I know you think that's sick, or weird, or whatever, but I can't help it and I'm just telling you the truth. But none of that matters if you don't want the same thing, because mostly I just want you to be happy, OK? It's just not important enough to me to risk losing you, I love you too much to endure that, so if you say end it, we end it."
She touched me softly on my knee. "Thanks Kev. I just needed to hear you say it. I wasn't sure you still loved me."
I stared at her. "What?! Of course I do, more than anything! This has nothing to do with that, I just see the way you respond, so hot and sexy, you get so turned on...I thought you wanted it too."
She laughed. "Oh Kev, I guess I sowed my wild oats already! I have my memories. Now I have you."
"Pretty weak substitute, huh?"
"Oh, just stop it! I'm very happy."
"But you miss it, don't you? Being able to have fun with anyone you want."
She raised her eyebrows playfully. "Not when I'm sober. But that guy you created last night was a stud, he wore me out!" She giggled. "You can invite him back anytime - but get me takes first or I might be too shy to cooperate!"
I laughed, relieved that she wasn't ending the sex play that we both enjoyed so much. I had some ideas for hot stories to tell her, all of them involving her screwing another man - or other men - before coming home to me, and I didn't want them to go to waste. We made love that afternoon, no stories, just a sweet enjoyment of each other's touch, and she made me feel good about myself, as if I was an adequate lover.
The next couple of weeks went that way, no extra hot and intense sessions juiced up with dirty stories, but a few nice, sweet interludes with lots of touching and whispering, lots of caressing and intimacy. We worked, we slept, we ate, and we made love, and the days passed.
Dave's brother Daniel had called me about the bachelor party, and had emailed me a map to Todd's house, where it was to be held. On the Friday before the wedding, maps in hand, we set out after work in the late evening to attend our parties. Stef was going to drop me at Todd's and go on, because Katherine's bachelorette party was several miles further away, but in more or less the same direction. We agreed that neither of us was much interested in staying at our respective parties too late, and that she would call me sometime before eleven to arrange to pick me up.
Still with considerable trepidation about partying with a bunch of strangers, I kissed her goodbye, waving as she drove away, and walked up to the door. It was open, loud music blaring within, and I walked inside. There was a pretty good crowd there already, probably close to twenty guys, but no familiar faces. On guy crossed to me and greeted me, introducing himself as Dave's brother Daniel. I recognized his voice from the phone call, and could see a definite resemblance to his older brother. He dragged me to the iced keg and drew me a beer before introducing me around.
It was like a typical frat crowd, just a little older. Most of the guys were big and boisterous, each trying to out-lie and out-take the other. I could easily envision them in frat still, though there were a few too many facial creases and incipient paunches. Dave said hello, and that he was glad I had come, but was very involved with his former frat brothers. It was early, and not too rowdy yet, but beer and stronger takes were flowing freely and it was apparent that it would get wild before the night was done. Daniel introduced me to KatienotKathy's brother Steve, and then to Steve's friend Paul. Other than Dave, Paul was the only one here that looked even remotely familiar to me, but I couldn't place him. He also seemed to have gotten a head start on the takeing and was already fairly hammered, which should have rung a bell in my head. Steve asked me how I knew Dave.
"Oh, I don't know him really. We had dinner with them a couple of weeks ago, but it was through my wife. She's a friend of Katherine's."
Paul perked up. "Really? I went to school with Katherine."
I smiled. "Me too, and my wife. That's where they became friends, they were in the same sorority."
"No cuckolds brownie?" He laughed. "Small fucking world, huh? What's your wife's name, I bet I know her - I knew all of Katherine's sorority friends."
It slowly dawned on me why he looked familiar! A few pounds heavier, a touch of gray now in his hair, but this was Pickled Paul, one of the guys that had frequently hung out with Katie and Steffany and their friends - and me, occasionally - when we would all go out as a group. He had earned his nickname by virtue of being the one that showed up for an evening of bar-hopping already takes. Also for footbll games, basketball, rafting on the river through campus, whatever. If there was to be any takeing happening, Paul was always out front leading the way.
I looked at him. "Paul, I remember now where I've seen you! I'm Kevin - I used to hang out with you and the group sometimes."
He looked at me closely. "Mmm, sorry, not ringing a bell. Who's your wife?"
"Steffany, Katie's friend. I'm married to Steffany."
He frowned, then I saw it dawn on him and his eyes widened. "You're cuckolds brownietin' me! Steffy, the gorgeous little brunette with the great tits, that Steffany?" I nodded, and he laughed again and looked me up and down. "Holy cuckolds brownie, I can't believe you're married to Steffy! Way to go dude!" He held up his hand, and I realized he was looking for a high-five. Unaware that guys still did that, and wondering even more if it was appropriate to high-five someone over who I had married, I slapped his hand.
He grabbed Steve's arm and pulled him back over near us. "Hey, dude, have you ever met your sister's friend Steffany?"
Steve nodded. "Yeah, she's a knockout. So?"
Paul laughed. "This is her husband! And she's no knockout, she's fucking gorgeous. And man, did that girl ever love to fuck!!"
