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Claire laughed at something he said and my gut tied in knots. I forgot about my job and watched them, holding the camera in front of me, just standing and watching them dance. She put her head on his chest and seemed to relax against him, holding her body as close as possible to his. She looked, indeed, like a woman about to be fucked. Someone asked me about buying pictures of the wedding and I snapped back into the reality of the moment.
I handed him my card and looked back at the dance floor, but they were gone. Her new friend had been tall, with broad shoulders, and slightly greying hair, and wore a sports jacket with leather elbows, a red tie, and cowboy boots
I looked around the large room but didn't see them anywhere. I had to shoot the reception and I was getting paid and paid well for my services, so I could not just ignore what I had to do, but I started to get frantic as I looked for them around the reception hall. It was a large auditorium next to the church, and there were close to three hundred people at the wedding, so it was hard to find anyone in particular. There was a large dance floor, where I had seen them before, but it was so crowded I could not see them anywhere. It seemed as if they might have left.
At the far end of the auditorium there were many doors to rooms for Sunday school and food preparation, so there were many places for them to be, and I could not see them anywhere. It was hard to be sure with so many people that they weren't there, but I could not see them at all.
I worked my way around the facility taking pictures, but I still could not see them. I was just about panicked as I shot pictures of the bride and groom and their family around the reception and was trying to look over the camera at the crowd, when suddenly I heard her behind me.
"David, I will be gone for awhile," she said touching me on the arm. "Randy wants to show me his truck, maybe take me for a ride. You're busy here, right? I'll be right back. How long will the reception last?" she asked. "About ten? I will be back before that," she added.
"Two hours? You'll be gone two hours?" I said aghast.
"Oh, not necessarily. Probably sooner than that," she said innocently.
"Probably?" I said. "What might you be doing for close to two hours? Seeing his truck?"
"Oh, no. We may take a ride. You are busy here, so I don't want to bother you. I will be back in a while. Don't worry," she said calmly. "I'll be fine."
I let the camera hang from the strap. "I am worried what might happen in Randy's truck," I said.
"Don't you trust me?" she asked naively.
"I don't trust the owner of that truck," I said. "Who is this Randy, anyway?" I asked.
"He is a friend of the groom's family," she said. "He lives in Texas and owns a place here in Kingston. He wants to show it to me. I won't be long," she added as she walked toward the door, waving back at me as she walked away. I saw Randy from Texas standing by the door. He took her hand as she got to the entrance and went through the double doors before him. As they walked toward the parking lot he put one big hand on her bottom but she removed it with a swat of her hand.
I had taken pictures for nearly two hours and there was no sign of my wife and Texas Randy. The crowd had thinned out a bit, but there was still no sign of them. I was taking the last of my pictures of the bride and her bridesmaids, when I heard the door open and saw my wife and her new friend come in to the reception hall.
He walked with her across the floor toward me and she stood behind me as I took pictures of the bride posing with her friends from her bridal party. When I finished I turned to her and she kissed me, then introduced me to Randy. Reluctantly, I shook his hand. I wanted to ask her what she had been doing, but I was afraid of the answer, because if anyone looked recently fucked, recently pleasured sexually, it was my wife.
We had never talked about having sex with other people, although I did know she had a wild side that kept me more than a little nervous about her "friendships" with other people. She is a very outgoing and trusting person, affectionate and very demonstrative, and had been sexually active in college. She adore sex, is very responsive in bed, and I expect she is easily aroused sexually by various sensual situations. In other words, I am sure my wife can be had.
Now at the wedding it simply had come to the surface. Just by seeing the look on her face, the flush in her complexion, and her physical body language, I could clearly see she had recently had sex. My wife had gone off with Texas Randy and been fucked and fucked thoroughly. It was obvious. Everything about her said sex, and I thought it was also probably evident to anyone who was perceptive enough to look closely.
On the way home after the reception was over she was very quiet, uncommonly so. There was a self-consciousness about her as we drove towards our place. I wanted to ask her what she had done, but I could see she felt terribly uncomfortable, a bit sheepish about her time with the man from Texas, and it was clear she had done something she felt uneasy about, something that she regretted. I knew she had been unfaithful and the weight of that was getting to her. By the time we got home I could see tears glistening on her cheeks as she sat quietly staring ahead.
She went right to our room when we got there and she shut the door. After an hour I went to the bedroom door and knocked. It was quiet for over a minute, and then the door opened slowly. She stood in front of me and her eyes were red and puffy, obviously she had been crying, and she just stood and looked at me.
"I am sorry," she said without explanation. I took her in my arms and she began to cry powerfully and her body shook as I held her. "You must hate me," she said. "I didn't expect it to turnout that way. I thought I could stop, but I couldn't. I am so sorry." She was crying so hard by then that she could no longer speak. I let her cry and held her tighter.
"I love you so much that it doesn't matter to me. Honestly," I said, "I don't hate you for what you did. I love you in spite of it. It is not the most terrible thing in the world. I love you enough to not hold you so tight. It is obvious," I said, "that you need freedom more than you need to be possessed. Maybe what happened today is telling us something. Maybe it is what you have to have."
I stopped talking and simply held her. "I don't own you," I said finally said, hugging her. "Tell me something," I said, surprising myself with the question. "Did you enjoy it?" She leaned away from me, processing my question, looking at me, her eyes still overflowing with tears.
"What?" she said, not believing what I'd asked.
"Did you enjoy your time with your friend from Texas?" I said again. She looked at me for a minute and then nodded. "I am actually glad of that," I said. "It would be a shame feeling as bad as you do and not having had some fun out of it. I was hurt at first, I will admit, but seeing you so tormented hurts me even more to watch. There are those who give one another freedom to express themselves sexually with others. Maybe that would work for us.
"Randy told me early in the evening he was going to be fucking you later that night," I explained. "He set out to be with you. It was more him than you. He told me he would be 'fucking my wife before the night was over.'" She listened and frowned. "He just leaned over my shoulder and whispered it in my ear as I took pictures."
"He said that?" she asked. I nodded, hugged her close. "He set out to get me in bed?" she asked. I nodded. "What did he see in me that made him so sure."
"He saw a beautiful, sexy woman who he set his sights on. He saw someone who radiated sex. He saw the woman I love," I said. "The question is, how are we going to handle this in the future. If you enjoyed what happened, then maybe we need to think about giving you more independence, more freedoms."
"You could do that?" I shrugged. "You would do that?" I nodded. "How did I get so lucky?" She asked.
That night we started on a new journey. I committed myself to the goal of giving her the license to expand her sexual orbit. I vowed to give her the space to be sexual with other people. I committed to the idea of letting her have other sexual partners. I did not take the job lightly, and I was devoted to the goal of letting her be who she actually is sexually.
She told me after a month that there was someone she wanted to be sexual with. "Does he work with you?" I asked. She nodded. "Would I like him?"
"I hope so. He is not like Randy. He knows I am married, and he won't do anything without your knowledge and consent. I told him about your promise, and I told him about the wedding. He knows I like sex." She smiled. "He knows I have a wonderful husband."
We went to bed that night and had wonderful, steamy sex. It was slow and deliberate, sexy and loving. Afterward we cuddled and talked about how we loved one another. "I realized, after the wedding, that sex is not a good reason to break up a beautiful marriage, that loving someone often means being able to let go of them and not hold so tight that you straggle them. I realized I love you unconditionally," I said.
Her first "date" with Adam was one week later. I knew when she left that it was the best thing to do. As I watched her walk to her car, her short dress swaying as she walked, her fine figure thrilling me to witness, the bounce in her step telling me she would have wonderful stories to tell. At that moment I realized I hungered to hear those stories, and I truly was happy for her to be able to experience it without guilt or concern.
I waited at home eager for her to return so she could share it with me. When I heard her at the door, her keys jingling on the porch, my heart jumped and I put down my book and waited for the door to open. "Did you enjoy yourself?" I asked as she entered. Her look said it all. There was happiness on her face and satisfaction in her step. She sat next to me and took my hand and put it between her legs. Her panties were gone and her pussy was wet. My finger slipped easily into her and she smiled, kissing me her thanks.
"You are the best husband there is, anywhere," she said. "Adam thinks you are incredible. I think you are perfect."
I pushed my finger deep into her. "It feels like cum in here," I said. Timidly, she nodded. "Tell me all about it. Did you stay at his house, or did you go out?" I asked.
"A little of both," she said with a broad grin. She told me they met at his house, and he undressed her in his living room, then carried her to his bed. They made love on top of the bedspread, with her riding him cowgirl, which she prefers. Then he turned her over and while she knelt on his bed, he ate her from behind, bringing Claire to multiple orgasms, and fucking her again before they took a drive in his Corvette. As he drove, he fingered her pussy to a few more orgasms.
Claire has been with Adam about a dozen times since then, and each time she agrees to tell me about every detail, leaving out nothing, describing what he did to her and what she did to him.
When she went off with a stranger at a wedding I was photographing I never would have realized it could lead to this. I swear we are closer now and our sex life has gotten better. Probably not for everyone, but it is working for us.
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