What Happens in France Stays in France

The disaster of the year began after my friend Marcus shot his big mouth off at a bar. That's about as simple as I can say it. Probably an innocuous comment, one that led to another and another and pretty soon there was a disaster at hand.

Permit me to explain.

I'm a relatively normal guy, married 13 years to the wonderful Vicky, with a good job, nice house in the 'burbs and a basic, normal, decent, quiet, lifestyle. Our big night on the town was a dinner and movie and maybe a little thighs slapping action when we got home. Not always, but not too little either.

We enjoyed sex even after 13 years of marriage and two plus courting years when we when at it like rabbits.

Vicky was a pure Catholic girl, having been a virgin when I took her to of all places the Family Drive-In. The "Family" was a passion pit, one of the last remaining ones around I believe. It was closing for good that month back in late 1996 and I convinced Vicky to give it a send off party.

Sex wasn't on the agenda, just two movies and an endless makeout session but one thing led to another and, well, I had condom, and she was in the mood and right there in the back seat of the Honda Accord I took my Vicky's precious virginity. Ironically, it was the first time I'd gotten into her panties, as while she was generous in her hand jobs while we were dating I'd never even returned the favor between her lovely legs.

It was cramped in the car, yet awesome. It was cluttered but perfect.

So what was the disaster that night in the bar earlier this year? It was innocent enough. Marcus was back from Iraq, one of the last guys there, and several of us got together to celebrate his return. There were about 8 of us, five guys and three ladies, and we had a very nice dinner and libations.

Angie and Adam were the designated drivers, soft drinkers both, and we didn't have to worry about driving, so it was a casual, nice night.

One guy, Jack, turned the conversation to Angie and Adam and Vicky and I, asking what made our marriages so successful when many of our friends were breaking up. Each couple gave its response, mostly centering on listening to each other, caring and a little luck.

The banter was liquor induced of course, which can bring disastrous comments and consequences.

Marcus brought up the fact that I'd kept "it" in my pants for so long after the wedding day, since I'd been such a horn dog while we'd been hanging out. Everyone laughed including Vicky, and someone said that my lovely wife must be quite the sexy mama who was tantalizing in the sack.

Of course I laughed and pulled Vicky close, kissing her. While I was kissing her I reached back and slipped my hand down her pants, under her panties right onto her ass. The guys whistled, and the girls laughed that she was such a slut and that we ought to get a room.

We all laughed. It was all in jest. We'd shown off a little in public before, those displays of affection that later are remembered when making love.

Innocent and fun, nothing out of the ordinary.

But later that night, when I excused myself to the rest room, Marcus must have drunkedly said something about a couple of the girls I'd bedded in the "old days". When I returned to the table, nothing seemed different but I know Vicky had a sort of strange look on her face.

The night went on, ended, and that night Vicky and I returned home and had, well, very satisfying sex. She was a tigress that night, even getting on top and riding me. That's something she hardly ever did.

It wasn't until the morning over coffee when Vicky dropped the bombshell and opened the door. "So, Rob, what's this about all those girls..."

"Honey what do you mean?"

She said the girls I'd bedded before meeting, or maybe even while we were dating.

Of course she knew I hadn't been a virgin. I revealed back then that she wasn't the first, in fact there had been several others. Pam, for one, and Courtney. Angelique. Susan and Mary Claire. I'd even mentioned which ones had sucked my cock and how often. In the back of my mind I remembered that's when Vicky started allowing me to fondle her breasts on every date, and how the hand jobs started the night of the first revelation.

I reminded her of all that conversation, and how much I loved her. How we were wonderful together and how I never met a woman so perfect.

"But Marcus said you were seeing a girl, a Flossie, who was a real slut. And you were seeing her after we got together. And there was your "go-to" slut, Missy. He said she was known as a blow job queen and that she loved sucking you off...and did so in front of the guys at your bachelor party. He assumed I knew, I don't think he was lying. So give it up, how about Flossie and Missy and every other girl whose name ended in "Y" or "IE" you never told me about.

At first I thought Vicky was more interested than mad. But the more time passed I realized she was more pissed off at me than interested. The more we spoke the bigger hole I dug.

"And how about after our wedding? There were some times you'd be away on business....so what kind of business was it. Humping a slut business? Giving Missy the sausage? Giving Flossie the banana? What gives?" said my wife, who then stood, slapped me, and strode upstairs and locked the bedroom door.

My first thought was what the hell was going on, I'd only been to the bathroom, for crying out loud. But then I remembered seeing a couple friends from work and having a beer with them at the bar. Vicky saw me talking, and she was in conversation with Marcus, so I didn't see any harm until today.

They must have had one hell of a conversation.

I did what I had to do. I went upstairs and confessed the reams of stories to my lovely wife. I apologized for not telling her of my behavior, but said that since we'd tied the knot I'd been faithful.

Telling her about Flossie was hard, as the girl and I often had sex later the night after Vicky and I'd been on a date. I could see the hurt in my lovely wife's eyes as the story was told. But I thought, well, to tell her everything and let the chips fall where they did.

She asked where we'd "fuck", as she called it. I said in my car sometimes, but usually on a blanket on a dark pathway about three blocks from her house. Late at night there weren't people walking, and we'd get it on quickly. Once we were actually caught in the act, and it was embarrassing, but we didn't stop. Several times a week I'd screw Flossie on that path.

"When was the last time?"

I thought, and then related it was two nights before our wedding day. Once in her room with the parents out of the house, and once that same night on the path.

"You are a bastard."

"Honey, that was then, it was nothing."

My wife mumbled something about fucking not being nothing.

"Okay, now anything else about her you neglected to say? And what about Missy?"

Telling the story about how Flossie and I met by chance after my wedding and made it perfectly clear her legs were available to open if I needed. She actually pointed to a yellow hazard sign on the street: "Slippery When Wet". "I'm available if you need me baby," said Flossie that day. I told her I'd think about it, but never took her up on it.

I'm not sure if Vicky believed me, but I was as honest as could be.

As for Missy, well, that was a lot tougher. I'd snuck around with her for about six months prior to my marriage. She was married, her husband a jerk, and she worked with me. It was the perfect storm, and we began screwing about three months before the wedding day.

The first time was in the training room at the office, after all had left for the day of course. We graduated to doing the nasty on my boss' desk, good old Mr. Lynch. He was a curmudgeon of a man, a plain pain in the ass.

Missy had a hunger for sex. She said her husband was sleeping around, and what was good for the goose was perfect for the gander. There was hardly ever a day that went past that we didn't cavort in some way. Her favorite was slipping into the parking garage for sandwiches at lunch time. Desert was my cock. She'd blow me several times a week in that garage, heading back into work with a tummy full of cum.

We'd have this thing. We'd catch eyes in the afternoon, and I'd wipe the side of my face, as if to show her she'd forgotten to wipe off any residue cum sauce. She's fake surprise, but would look around and lick her lips. All I know is that I'd work extra hours on projects to stay around after work with her.

One night, after sucking me while sitting in Mr. Lynch's chair she arose and bent over the desk. She looked back at me, smiled, and lifted her skirt and then made a production of slipping down her wispy blue panties.

"Fuck me up the ass," was all she said.

Maneuvering in behind her, I did just that. No jelly or lube, I used the wetness from her pussy to coat my cock and my finger. I slipped my finger into her ass, slowly working the rose bud, before slipping more pussy juice on my cock and carefully slipping my cock into her hot, tight ass. It was simply amazing.

She'd admitted later that her husband would regularly fuck her up the ass after one of his benders, and she let him. It opened her up back there, but she loved my actions more than his!

On that first night though, all I knew was that I was fucking a girl up the ass for the first time. Remember, Vicky and I were only to the hand job stage, and ass play was something that the slut Flossie didn't do. It was awesome and I shot a quick load in her ass for the first of many times up the chocolate speedway.

It was a good thing it was a quick ass fuck, as just as I was pulling out we heard something rattle in the main office. We were barely presentable when the cleaning lady came into the office. She saw us, and I remember she wasn't really startled. She merely said, "Just checking" and closed the door. We quickly became presentable and made the "perp" walk out of the office while she stood watching us.

"Are you having a good night?" she asked, a sly smile on her face.

I mumbled something about working on some reports, and Missy said she was looking for some this or that.

The woman had a good sense of people, though, and was quick to point out that our secret was safe with her. But she reminded that the cleaners were around about that time and that doors could be locked which would at least give a little preview that someone was coming into the office. "I remember being young," she said with a smile. "But don't be stupid."

We dodged a bullet, and remembered to lock the outer office door before future dalliances!

Throughout all the admissions and stories Vicky watched me talk. What I mean is, she wasn't just listening, she was watching me admit to failures (or successes, depending on one's point of view). It was as if she as attempting to see if I was being totally honest or leaving out details. I got that, so the details flowed with detective like precision.

The hardest admission was the bachelor party. Yes, that did happen, she knew that. I had told her there was a stripper, of course, many years before. But I never mentioned Missy. On that night we'd all gotten drunk and the stripper gave me a lap dance and actually rubbed against me in a dry hump.

It was hot, but not satisfying. But that turned out to be a good thing. Because as we were breaking up the night there was a knock on the door and there was the lovely Missy. Apparently her husband came home drunk and demanded a blow job. He was rough, but that wasn't the worst of it. He couldn't cum, so she sucked and sucked and stroked and sucked to no avail.

Point being, he had been out fucking, and she was sucking off a guy who had buried his cock in some floosie that night. She knew, though, in that condition, the guy could be dangerous to her if she didn't do as asked. So she sucked his dirty, slimy dick for more than a half hour before he nodded off into a deep sleep.

She wanted revenge, thus the trip to the bachelor party. She came in like the queen of the ball and joked with us before dropping to her knees and taking out my cock. She sucked me, teasingly, for several minutes as the remaining three guys in the room watched with fierce attention.

Soon their cocks were out, as they stroked to the tune Missy was singing on my cock. The girl was on a mission, and it wasn't long before she waived the guys over to the chair where I was sitting. One thing led to another, and she began moving around, guy-to-guy, sucking each of their cocks in succession.

As she did she'd grasp the cock on either side of her and stroke it using only her mouth on the lucky guy in the middle. It was an awesome sight watching her suck off the four of us in succession. Around and around she went on her knees, sucking cocks in order, getting each of us hotter and hotter.

First Joe shot his load in her mouth, and she sucked his dick until it retreated and he pulled back and sat to the side of us. Clark was next, and he finished jerking off on her face and hair. On to Marcus, he worked the girls' mouth for several minutes before she jerked the first shot and second shot off onto her face before letting him finish in her sucking mouth.

Now it was my turn, and she spared no effort. The guys watched as she unbuttoned her blouse and allowed me to hump her tits while whispering how much she loved my cock. She needed it, and loved my cock juice.

She worked my cock for a while before scooting up and sucking my cock like a professional. She sucked, licked and sucked, alternating stroke with her hand with licks of her tongue. It wasn't long before I was buried deep in her throat and unleashing a volley of cum that would have made a porn actor proud. Shot after shot spurted into her mouth as she struggled to swallow.

Looking at the girl was so erotic. Her face and hair were coated with cum, and I was firing volley after volley down her throat. Even after I was done she kept sucking, savoring the taste. "Remember me when you are screwing your new wife, and if you need a little side action you know where I am."

Of course I remembered every detail. Yet, like Flossie, I didn't mention a word of Missy and our relationship with either of those two women. It was too embarrassing, too naughty.

When the story was done Vicky looked me in the eyes and asked if that was it. I swore it was. She told me to leave our bedroom because she needed to think and didn't want me around. I begged to stay, to kiss and make love to her, but my lovely wife dismissed me.

Waiting down the hall, watching the closed door, I worried about our relationship. Would my revelations put a spike in our marriage? Then I heard noises in the bed room.

I have to admit I listened to her get off, probably with her special vibrator, but knew that if I ruined that action by knocking on the door I'd be in more than hot water. Long ago I learned to listen and learn, so I gave her space to do what she had to do.

Later she came downstairs and kissed me. "Honey, I know you've been true to me, but it really hurts knowing you weren't honest to me."

We spoke and spoke and discussed all and I could tell she was hurt yet thankful I'd revealed all that I had. I'm not sure she believed that I had not taken up either girl's offer of a free piece of ass after I'd gotten married, but at least she wasn't harping on anything. That night we made passionate love and began going forward with our relationship and it was all behind us. Or, so I thought.

Apparently, though, it hurt Vicky a great deal and was constantly on her mind. She'd get into moods for no apparent reason. Nothing terrible, mind you, but she was hurt deep down. She ultimately admitted the problem.

"We have a great relationship, a good sex life, but I feel I missed all the things you reaped when you cavorted with those, uh, girls. I feel I wasn't nasty. Wasn't bad. I was the perfect girl and you were out sowing wild oats, humping sluts and whores. It bothers me. On one hand I'm not hot enough for you, and on the other I'm not whorish enough for me."

We discussed, talked and even laughed at all that, but she still in the back of her mind was missing something. She said she'd never have an affair, and that maybe there never was anything that would handle the gremlins in her head.

Over the next couple months things were fine between us, but there was always something just a little, well off. We were buried in our jobs, we'd still do everything as always, but there was just something a little off.

Mostly, though, we were preparing for our 10th anniversary trip to France. Yes, I know, we'd been married more than that, but work didn't allow us to do anything special for the 10th and we'd long wanted to go to Europe. We'd scrimped and saved, and there were some great deals, so we decided to do something for ourselves.

A couple weeks before leaving I thought I was alone in the house. I was horny and was watching some online snippets of porn clips. Stumbling across a dogging video, I was entranced and didn't hear Vicky get home from shopping. She actually walked in as I was whacking off.

Instead of being upset --- she later told me she had heard me so catching me wasn't an accident but actually erotic --- she demanded to watch whatever I was watching. She drove the computer, and saw some really naughty action on the screen.

One particularly drew her attention. Soon she was down on her knees, sucking my dick while the clip was still playing. She was fingering her pussy while sucking my cock and I couldn't help myself. I was so aroused to start with that I began spurting into her mouth.

I remember thinking she swallowed the whole load. That's important, in that a lot of times she'd blow me and let the cum slip and slide out of her mouth all over my cock. But this time she sucked me off like a perfect good wife.

Afterwards, she asked me about the clip. Was it real, was it staged, what kind of girl could do that and so forth.

The clip showed a couple driving into a car parking lot, maybe at a park. They went to the end and the driver was taking the video. The next screen showed the girl sucking off the guy in the front seat of the car. When the camera drew back you could see the midsections of a couple guys watching from outside the vehicle.

At first it was only the couple in the car getting it on, but soon there was a graduation to other endeavors.

The woman worked her man's dick for a little before sitting up and opening her window. Soon she was stroking first one, and then two of the faceless guys outside the car. Another materializes in the background, watching the action unfold in front of him. She stroked the guys for a few minutes, their cock out of their zippers, while from time-to-time the camera panned to the back and showed nobody else around except the three.

Back to the action in her hands, the girl stroked cocks for a while before slowly bending her head and licking the one to her right. At that point it sent the other guy over the edge as he moved closer and shot his load on the side of the woman's face and hair. That set off a chain reaction, as the guy who'd cum moved back to be replaced by the third guy while the one she was licking started spurting his load on the other side of the girl's face and hair.

He moved back after a hit, zipping up his trousers. Guy number three was now rocking as the girl jerked him off. A fourth guy materialized and his dick was soon in her hand. Repeating the action, both guys had their cocks jerked off.

It wasn't long before the one to the right pulled back, began stroking his own cock, and let loose a load on the girl's face. Soon after the fourth guy exploded to her actions and the girl in the car was wearing four loads of man sauce.

The clip ended with the window being closed and the girl bending over her man in the driver's seat. She blew him and literally it only took a minute for her to take his load in her mouth. She moved back into the passenger seat and smiled at the camera.