Don’t Ask—You Know

When my wife and I got engaged I was in the Air Force. We moved in together—and we had a terrific time until I got my orders for overseas deployment.

During my eight-month tour we stayed in touch with letters, which took almost a week to arrive. At first Ginny gave a summary of what she did each day, like shopping with girlfriends, or a movie, or dinner with friends. Then I got a letter saying she and her friend Carla were going to the beach on Saturday. I real­ized that by the time I got the letter this had already happened, so in my reply I asked if she had a fun day and said I’d love to get a pic­ture of her in her swimsuit.

It took almost two weeks to get her reply. She said they had a great time, and did take pictures. She enclosed a few, showing her and Carla in very sexy bikinis. I’d never seen Ginny in this suit. It was white and very skimpy. It was obvious that she’d just gotten out of the water, and the wet bikini didn’t hide much. She has a great body, with long dark hair, olive skin, a great ass and large, firm breasts. The material covering those ample breasts and beneath her flat stomach was thin enough that I could see the dark ring round her hard nipples, which were sticking out for all to see, and I could make out dark pubic hair through the bottom.

In the photos I couldn’t help noticing four towels laid out—with a baseball cap on the one next to the one Ginny was sitting on and a pair of men’s sneakers on the one next to Carla. It hadn’t occurred to me that they might have gone to the beach with guys! Presumably one of the guys was taking close-ups of Ginny’s sexy body.

I knew Carla was a free spirit, very much on the wild side. She had plenty of boyfriends and made no secret that she enjoyed sex with a number of them. But Ginny always acted more conservative, at least around me. Even though I was a little concerned and jealous, I figured there was no harm in her going to a public place with male friends. After all, we weren’t married yet. So in my letters I didn’t mention the extra towels or the items that showed there were men with them.

A week or two later I got a letter saying Ginny and Carla had gone to a certain lounge on Thursday and had a fine time. Carla had convinced her she needed to get out once in a while to keep from going stir crazy—she hoped I was okay with it. I knew all about the lounge in question (I don’t want to mention the name). I’d been there a few times before I met Ginny. It was a place where servicemen from the Air Force base as well as civilian men went to pick up local girls.

I also knew that Thursday was ladies’ night—no cover charge for the gals and their drinks half-price. A lot of the women were married with husbands away, and most made no attempt to hide their wedding rings. It was a signal that they weren’t interested in a relationship, just a night out with possible benefits for a lucky guy.

During the night there would be various contests. One I remembered vividly was the T-shirt one. To win one of the lounge’s T-shirts, a girl was supposed to pair up with a guy and go up on the platform, where the guy would buy a shirt and stand behind her. While striptease music played, he would take off her top and bra and slip the T-shirt on, getting plenty of feels of her bare breasts, with the audience cheering until the music stopped. Nor­mally the couple hooked up for the rest of the night.

There were also the usual wet T-shirt and dirty dancing contests. I couldn’t help wondering if Ginny participated in any of them, and how far she would go. I had a good idea that Carla would do it all, including taking a guy back to her place for a night of sex. I wondered how much influence Carla would have over Ginny. I know that when Ginny drinks, she gets a little wild, and also horny. I could just see her onstage with some man undressing her and having his way with her breasts, then spending the night together.

As I thought about Ginny, I realized I had put her in a difficult position. She enjoys sex, and we were doing it several times a week until I shipped out. I knew I wasn’t her “first.” She told me she’d been intimate with several men, and that was never an issue for me. Now here I was halfway around the world, thinking she would just sit around like an old maid wait­ing for me. And I realized that wasn’t what I wanted!

I loved Ginny and wanted her to enjoy herself while I was gone, even if it meant being in the company of other men. We could pick up the pieces when I got back. As I continued to think about Ginny possibly having sex with other men, I even started getting excited visualizing it. In my next letter I told her I was glad she was getting out and enjoying her­self and I was glad Carla was encouraging her. I told her she should have a good time, just to be careful and remember that I love her. I was really saying I was okay with her being with other men while I was gone.

Over the next few months Ginny told me she and Carla were having a blast, going fairly often to the beach and to the lounge and to parties. Sometimes she went with Carla, but other times there was no mention of her, making me wonder who she was with. She admitted she often drank too much—which I took to mean she got horny and had sex. She never came out and admitted she was seeing other men, but she didn’t try to hide the fact that she was quite the party girl. The more I thought about Ginny with other men, the more excited I got.

I finally got back to the States, and we resumed our relationship like nothing hap­pened. We had great sex starting the first night I got home. Ginny mentioned she was on the Pill so we no longer needed to use condoms. I said I liked the fact that I could come in her pussy, and she said she liked it too.

A couple of weeks later Ginny was out shopping on Saturday morning, and there was a load of wash in the dryer. I decided to fold and put it away. As I was putting Ginny’s things in the drawer, I came across several of the lounge T-shirts. I also found some very sexy panties and bras I hadn’t seen before. I got excited thinking of Ginny on the platform at the lounge wearing her sexy underwear with some guy stripping off her top and sexy bra and feeling her up while the audience watched and cheered. I wondered how far she went with the guys that bought her the T-shirts.

I didn’t say anything to Ginny, but that afternoon we ended up having wild sex. She asked what got into me, and I said I was thinking about her while I was putting her underwear away and just had to have her. She said I should do the laundry more often. I had an idea that she realized I came across the T-shirts and sexy underwear.

A few days later I dropped a pen down behind my night­stand, and when I pulled it out I found a condom wrapper—a brand I never used! This confirmed what I knew: that Ginny was having sex while I was gone, and bringing guys home to fuck in our bed. I put the condom wrap­per next to the nightstand, where she’d be sure to see it and would realize I must have seen it. Later that afternoon the wrapper was gone!

That night we had amazing sex again. Ginny said I sure was turned on. I said she was so sexy, I couldn’t help it. Neither of us mentioned my discovery.

Not long after that, Ginny and I got married—a small wedding with just close friends, and after that Carla threw a small reception at her place. I noticed one of the guys come in wearing a baseball cap like I’d seen in the beach photos and wondered if this was the guy. He was big and muscular, and when Ginny saw him she went right over and thanked him for coming. He gave her a longer kiss than would normally be appropriate and also placed a hand on her ass. She brushed it away. I heard her say to cut that out, she was a married lady, and they both chuckled. Then she came back to me.

I said, “He seems friendly.” Ginny smiled and said, “Oh, that’s Josh. He was a good friend while you were gone.” At the party she consumed a lot of alcohol and was feeling no pain. She danced a lot with Josh, and they were very intimate—him pressing into her stomach, her pushing her breasts into his chest. She seemed to almost be in a trance during their dance-floor close encounters. My mind going back to the condom wrapper, I visualized them fucking in our bed.

That night at home Ginny was a wild woman. She said she needed a good fucking and kissed me while stripping my clothes off, getting us both naked in no time. In bed, she pulled on my cock and said she needed that big cock in her. Once I got it in, she said, “Fuck me hard, baby. Fill me with your big cock. Stretch my pussy good. Come in me the way you like it, babe.”

She went on and on, and I knew it was Josh she was thinking about, not me. My cock isn’t small but it’s not by any means big, just average.

Ginny was normally pretty conservative with me, and never called me “baby” or “babe,” and didn’t ever say anything about my cock be­ing big. I said the sexy talk really turned me on, but what I was thinking was that Josh must be really hung and during their frequent sessions while I was gone they got down and dirty just like she was doing with me tonight.

A few months later I was discharged from the Air Force and landed a job in the maintenance department of a company that had a number of locations. I had to go out of town often to help at those locations. Once I was gone for two weeks and called home late Saturday night and got no answer, so I tried Ginny’s cell, which went straight to voice mail. I left a short message that I missed her and figured she had turned in early.

The next afternoon she called and said she was sorry she missed my call, that her and a few friends had gone to Josh’s house, relaxing in the Jacuzzi on his deck with pitchers of margaritas, and it was late when she got home. She said she hoped I didn’t mind. I said I was sorry I had to leave her alone so often and no, I didn’t mind her having fun with her friend while I was gone. I was sure she got my meaning.

Awhile later I came home from a week away and Ginny said she had volunteered my services to help Josh. His hot-tub jet sprays weren’t working. He’d bought a new pump but was uneasy about installing it, and she’d said she was sure I would help.

I went over that Saturday morning, and saw why Josh wanted help. With the hot tub built into the deck, and the access panel located underneath, it took both of us working in the tight space till noon to get the old pump out and the new one in and hooked up. Then he gave me a tour of the house. In the rec room, beside the big-screen television was a shelf of DVDs that turned out to be all skin flicks. There was a typical bachelor-pad bedroom with a king-size bed, but also nicely matted and framed black-and-white pho­tos of beach scenes, lighthouses and waterfalls on the wall that I guessed Josh took.

This was confirmed when he showed me the spare bed­room he’d converted to a photo studio. There were lots of photos scattered about, including some of women in sexy lingerie and others nude. I could see that they had been mostly taken around the house, some in the studio, some out on the deck, others in the rec room or bedroom—all very professionally done. I checked to see if there were any of Ginny but didn’t see any.

We ended up back on the deck. Josh said we should try out the tub to make sure the pump would hold up. He said, “Hop in,” he’d grab us towels and beers. I said, “Sounds good, can I borrow a swimsuit?” He laughed and said the deck was private and no one wore suits in the hot tub. He stripped off his shorts and jockeys and went inside. I got a quick glimpse of his cock—it was large. I undressed and got in the tub.

A few minutes later Josh returned and while handing me a beer stood in front of me with one leg up on the side of the tub. He made no attempt to cover up his large cock and big balls hanging down. I assumed he was making a point of showing off what he had, and what Ginny had been getting while I was away.

After a couple of beers I got out and dried off and got dressed. Josh got out and dried off, facing me and mak­ing no attempt to conceal himself. He rubbed his cock with the towel, then dropped it, leaving his large cock hanging down semihard. He smiled and thanked me for the help and said if he could do anything for Ginny or me, consider it done. I thanked him, thinking he was already doing my wife.

When I got home, I told Ginny the Jacuzzi was back in service, and told her I got a tour of Josh’s house, includ­ing his studio and some of his work. She blushed, then said, “He enjoys his hobby and is very good at it.” When I said we even tested out the Jacuzzi before I left, she looked a bit nonplussed, perhaps thinking I now knew about Josh’s “no suits” hot-tub policy and knew that her and Josh had spent time together naked in the hot tub and done more than sit.

She said she was glad it was fixed, and since I got to enjoy it, I’d have seen what a great way it is to relax, and she hoped I didn’t mind her doing so when I’m away. I don’t mind at all, I said, provided she lets me know when she goes. I left it at that.

The next time I was gone, I got a call from Ginny on Thursday while I was having dinner at the hotel. She said Josh invited her to join him in his hot tub tonight and wanted to know if it was all right with me. I figured she and Josh had talked about the day I helped with the pump, and she was really making sure it was all right for her to have sex with him. I told her to go and enjoy herself and asked if she wanted me to call her later that night. She said no, Josh had a movie he thought I would enjoy, so she might be late.

That night I visualized them naked in the rec room watching a porno flick and him fucking her with his big cock. I figured they would spend the night in his king-size bed, and that’s why she didn’t want me calling. I was tempted to call our house early the next morning, but decided against it.

When I got home the next night, we had dinner, then went to bed early. When I took Ginny’s panties off, her pussy lips were puffy and red, and she was open and stretched from the strenuous workout Josh gave her. I went down on her, thinking about that hard fucking the night before. Her pussy was wetter than ever, and I knew I was eating some of his come along with her juices.

She got excited and said, “That’s it, baby, eat me good. Suck on my clit. Lick those lips. Stick your tongue in me. I’m horny, baby. I’m wet and ready for you.”

Then she swung around and took my cock in her mouth, deep-throating me for the first time. When I was ready to come I pulled away, but she said, “Don’t stop, baby. I want you to come in my mouth.” I came hard, and she took it all down her throat, then licked up what was still seeping out of my dick, and took my balls in her mouth and sucked on them. She gave me a big kiss, sticking her tongue in my mouth, then said she loves “sucking on your big cock and tasting your come.” Since this was the first time I ever came in her mouth, I assumed she must be talking about Josh or other men. I wondered just how often she had done it.

After a few minutes she said she was going to get me hard again so I could fuck her “with that big thing,” and she sucked on me until I was hard. She rolled over on her back and spread her legs, smiled and said, “Come on, baby, fuck me now.” When I put my cock inside her, she was loose and slippery. She said, “Stretch me, babe, with that big cock.”

Then she stopped me and said, “Roll over.” She got on her hands and knees and said to get behind her. I did, and entered her from behind. “That’s it,” she said. “Fuck me hard, baby. Can you see your big dick in my pussy, baby? Oh, I love it.” I knew she was thinking about being with Josh. They must have had some wild time!

We both came, then collapsed. When Ginny recovered, she looked sheepish. “Sorry, honey,” she said, “I got carried away.” I said that she should get carried away more often, that she was fantastic tonight. She said I was too good to her.

We’ve still never come out and discussed her extramar­ital activities. I really love my sexy wife and am proud that she has turned into such a free spirit. I now look forward to my trips, knowing she’ll be fucking other men. She calls to let me know she’s going to the lounge, or to Josh’s, or to other places such as bars or hotel lounges.

One night Ginny said she was going night swimming at the dunes with friends. “Night swimming at the dunes” is a term for going skinny-dipping with your partner in a seclud­ed area, then fucking in the sand hills. I said to have fun and “be sure not to get sand where it doesn’t belong.” She laughed and said she’d be careful, but I should check her out when I get home. Then she thanked me for being so understanding.

Ginny usually arranges to have sex the night before I get home, knowing how turned on I am by her well-used pussy, and we have hot sex that first night home. She’s always very vocal now when we fuck, and has her way of letting me know about the men she’s fucked.

It’s all just our little secret, or not-exactly-secret, as the case may be. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

—Name and address withheld