After a few minutes, I heard the bedroom door open. Tina came softly down the stairs in her bathrobe. ‘He’s gone to sleep. Can I sit with you for a while, babe?’
‘Of course you can.’ We went into the den and sat on the couch. I put my arm round her and pulled her towards me. She rested her head on my chest. She smelt of Steve, a scent I was getting used to.
‘Did I go too far tonight?’ she asked.
‘We’re playing with strong emotions here.’
‘I know. But you said you were getting bored of just watching Steve fucking me.’
‘No, I didn’t. I said maybe I was getting used to it.’
‘Even so. I thought maybe it was time to up the stakes a bit.’
‘You knew the one thing that would make me even more jealous would be watching you and Steve making love.’
‘And it worked.’
‘Does Steve know why you did it?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you told him it was just to make me jealous?’
She paused. ‘Well, no. I just told him I wanted to make love. But coming after the conversation we’d just had, he must have known. He’s not stupid.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Don’t be nasty, Rob.’
‘And why were you quizzing him about that Hailey woman? You’ve never said anything like that before.’
‘No, I haven’t.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I guess I just wanted to see what it was like. Maybe I was trying to understand you a bit better. You obviously get off on knowing that Steve is better in bed than you. I wanted to know what it was like to be compared to someone else. So, when we were in bed, I got Steve to tell me about Hailey again. I made him recount all the details about what she looked like and what they did in the back of her car. And I made him tell me that she was the prettiest, the sexiest, the best.’
‘And did you enjoy it?’
‘Yes and no. I’ve decided it’s not really my thing, but it did make me very competitive. I was determined to prove that I’m better than Hailey. So I used all my tricks. I used my hands, my mouth, and my tits to stimulate his cock. I laid him down and rode him.
‘And don’t worry; we definitely didn’t make love this time. I called him a dirty bastard. He called me his cheap little fuck-toy and said I was a total skank compared to Hailey. But after we’d cum, I made him admit that I was the best ever, a hundred times better than Hailey. The poor guy got very confused about what he was supposed to say. But he did get to cum inside me, so let’s not feel too sorry for him.’
‘Do you want me to start talking about my ex when we’re in bed together?’
‘What, tell me that Deborah was so much hotter than me?’
‘If you like.’
She kissed me. ‘No, babe. I’m the best you’ve ever had. You’re the worst I’ve ever had. And that’s the way we like it.’
‘Okay,’ I said.
‘Do you still love me?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Well, you enjoy your night on the couch, babe. I’m going up to spend the night naked in bed with another man. I don’t love him. But I’m madly in love with his cock.’ She felt my bulge through my trousers again. She smiled when she felt how hard I was. ‘You’re a strange man, Rob Matthews,’ she said and went upstairs to bed.
As I got ready for another night on the couch, I started thinking. Why was I so turned on by the thought of my wife being in love with another man’s cock? I could imagine an analyst delving into my childhood to look for answers, but I didn’t think he’d find much there. My parents had a normal, stable marriage. As far as I know, there was no infidelity on either side. They loved me and my sister very much. There was only one thing from my childhood that might have influenced my thinking.
My father was a philosophy professor at the local college. He believed in moral relativism. From when I was a small boy, he told me that very few things are absolutely right or absolutely wrong. I was taught that an action is right if it makes people happy and wrong if it makes people unhappy. And generally it seemed that the situation Steve, Tina, and I had created was making people happy. Steve was happy. He got to have great sex with a beautiful woman. Tina was happy. She had the security of a loving marriage. But she was free to have wild sex with Steve.
My feelings were a bit more complex. Sometimes I wanted Tina all to myself again. There were times when I resented Steve’s presence in our house. But there was no denying that I loved watching them together. My lust for Tina was never stronger than when I saw her giving herself totally to another man. And I loved talking to her about it. But that brought me back to the question of why.
I think I can trace it back to experiences I had when I was at college. Although I’ve got some confidence in my looks now, I didn’t when I was a teenager. I had very bad skin. This made me shy and reluctant to leave the house. I spent a lot of time alone in my room, listening to Morrissey. I had some female friends, but none of them were interested in being anything more than that. I got used to hearing lines like: ‘I love you as a friend’ or ‘You’re more like a brother to me.’
I was still a virgin when I went off to college. During my first year there, I met Deborah. I first saw her in the college bar, watching a football game on the big screen. She was matching the men beer for beer and trash-talking the other team’s fans. She was acting like one of the guys. But she was also very feminine – large green eyes, auburn hair that flowed down to the small of her back. She had large breasts that bounced around inside her sweater every time she jumped up to celebrate. And she drew attention to them by saying things like, ‘If I keep doing that, I’ll have two black eyes.’
I didn’t much like her that first time I saw her. I thought she was too loud. Five minutes with her would give anyone a headache. But a couple of weeks later, while I was having lunch in the crowded cafeteria, Deborah asked if she could share my table. We started talking and I saw a different side to her. She liked reading and music. She even liked a lot of the same authors and singers I did. She also loved sports. I’ve never been a sports fan but I nodded at her comments and pretended to know more than I did.
We talked for most of the afternoon. We both missed a couple of classes. She asked me if I wanted to go back to her room. Experience had taught me not to get my hopes up. Back then, if a girl invited me to her room, it was usually because she wanted a sympathetic ear while she complained about her boyfriend. We walked to the house she shared with two guys and three girls. She made me wait in the kitchen while she went upstairs to tidy her room. I didn’t care about the state of her room, but she insisted.
Ten minutes later she called down the stairs. She was waiting at the door of her room. She let me in and shut the door. She didn’t say anything. She just kissed me and put my hand on her breast. That’s when I knew it was finally going to happen. I was actually going to have sex. I had to stop myself from getting too excited. I’d heard stories about what happens to male virgins their first time. At least I hadn’t ejaculated spontaneously when I first touched a breast. I was proud of myself for that.
We sat down on the bed and kissed. She could tell I was nervous. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said, ‘I’ve done this loads of times before.’ I know this is the last thing most men want to hear, but I was relieved. One of us had to know what we were doing. She unbuttoned her shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her boobs came tumbling out. I tried not to focus on them.
I took a long time over the foreplay. I knew the actual sex wasn’t going to take very long. I thought if I gave her as much pleasure as possible with the foreplay, it would increase my chances of being asked back to do this again. I stroked her hair, kissed her neck, and ran my hands gently over her body. If I couldn’t be a great lover, I could at least get the consolation prize of being a sensitive lover.
Her little moans told me I was doing the right thing. ‘Take your clothes off,’ she said, ‘including your socks.’ She reached under her bed for a packet of condoms and handed me one. My fingers were shaking as I opened the packet. Then there was some nervous fumbling as I tried to put the condom on inside out. Fortunately, she just laughed. ‘You’re so cute,’ she said.
When I finally had it on the right way, I lay down on top of her. I felt the entrance to her cunt with my finger and tried to get the tip of my cock into the same place. But I couldn’t find it. She reached down and took my cock in her hand. Putting it in the right place, she said, ‘Now try.’ I pushed and felt my cock slide into her. I’d also survived the first experience of a girl touching my cock. But being inside a woman was the biggest test.
I tried to do some math in my head. What’s sixty-five multiplied by twenty-seven? Well, five times seven is thirty-five. So that’s five, carry the three ….
‘Are you okay?’ she asked. ‘You look like you’re in pain.’ I guess I always screw my face up when I’m trying to do math.
‘I’m just enjoying it so much,’ I said.
‘Okay, Rob, go for it,’ she said. I started moving inside her. By trying to work out a hundred and forty-nine divided by eight, I managed ten reasonable thrusts before I came.
As I felt my cum pumping into the condom, I thought, This is it. I’m actually cumming inside a woman. It didn’t last very long, so it’s possible she’ll never want to see me again. But, whatever else happens, I’m not a virgin anymore.
Afterwards, I lay with my head on her chest. I was so grateful to her, I felt like crying. I’d happily have bought her a new car if she’d asked. Fortunately the only thing she asked was, ‘So how many lucky ladies have enjoyed the Rob Matthews treatment?’
I was glad to hear her ask this. It meant she hadn’t realized it was my first time. I thought of admitting the truth, but I was afraid she might laugh. And if she got a few beers inside her, she might share it with her friends. I didn’t want everyone in the bar singing ‘Like a Virgin’ the next time I walked in. On the other hand, I didn’t think she’d believe me if I claimed to be a super stud with hundreds of notches on my bedpost. ‘Five,’ I said.
‘Including me?’
‘Including you.’
‘You’re still a bit of a slut,’ she said with a grin.
From virgin to slut in one day. That felt good. ‘What about you?’ I asked.
‘Three.’
‘Only three?’
‘You thought I’d been out whoring all over town?’
‘It’s just that you said you’d done it loads of times.’
‘I have, but mostly with the same person. My last boyfriend was a bit of an animal. He couldn’t keep his hands off me.’
My cock twitched when she said that. And I think that was where it all started – the beginning of my fetish for hearing about women with other men.
‘What was he like?’ I asked.
‘He was a bit older – he was quite experienced,’ she said. I interpreted that as: he was better than you.
I was a bit surprised to see my cock was hard. ‘Would you like to go again?’ I asked.
She also looked surprised. ‘Aren’t I the lucky girl today?’ She lay back.
The second time, I spent even longer on the foreplay and managed to last twice as long when I was inside her. When I’d finished, I slid beneath the sheets. I kissed my way down her body until I reached her cunt. I really had no idea what I was doing down there. I went at it with the clumsy enthusiasm of a dog at his water bowl. But she was happy to be my teacher. ‘Use the tip of your tongue. This is a precision operation. The broad brush approach doesn’t work. The clitoris is important, but don’t focus on it all the time. Spend some time on the area around it. Up and down. Now side to side. Now round and round.’
After twenty minutes of hit and miss, I made her cum. When it was over, I sat up. Trying to sound as casual as possible, I asked her, ‘So, what are we doing here?’
‘Oh, I thought you knew,’ she said. ‘It’s called sex. It’s what people do when there’s nothing on TV.’
‘You know what I mean. Are you my girlfriend now?’
She paused for a second. I knew what she was thinking. She was wondering what her friends would say if she walked into the bar holding hands with me. ‘Do you want me to be?’
‘Yes.’
‘I should warn you, you’d be taking on a lot. I’m very moody. I’ve got quite a temper, as well.’
A few sullen silences and the occasional raised voice seemed a small price to pay for regular sex. ‘No problem,’ I said.
‘Okay, then. Why not?’ It wasn’t a passionate declaration of love. Juliet on the subject of Romeo would have put it better. But it was good enough for me. It meant I was in a sexual relationship with a woman. But, as we started going around together, it turned out to be more than that. I had someone to do things with. If we were feeling cultured, we went to a museum or a concert. If we weren’t, we just had a few drinks in the college bar.
People were surprised when they saw us together. I’m sure they expected her to be with some jock who played football every afternoon and drank ten beers every evening. And they probably expected me to be with the president of the chess club. I saw more football games than I wanted to and drank more beer than I’d ever done before. I went to a lot of parties and stayed up late more times than I should have done.
And yes, she was moody. There were some days when I couldn’t get two words out of her. And she did have a bit of a temper. Sometimes she yelled at me for no reason. But it wasn’t long before she apologized. And then we had make-up sex.
We had a good time together. We made each other laugh. And we spent a lot of time in bed during the day. It’s one of those things you can do when you’re at college.
One afternoon, we were in bed, just waking up from a post-coital doze. She asked me, ‘Am I the best sex you’ve ever had?’
I was about to say, ‘Well, seeing as you’re the only one I’ve ever had, there’s not much competition.’ But I remembered that she was supposed to be my fifth. ‘Oh yes, definitely.’
There was a silence when she should have said, ‘You’re the best I’ve ever had too.’ But she didn’t.
‘You’re definitely the best,’ I told her again, just to make it clear. She still didn’t reply. I should have let it go, but something made me ask her, ‘So, am I the best you’ve ever had?’
‘You’re very caring,’ she said. ‘You make me feel loved.’
‘But?’
‘But, like I told you, my last boyfriend was a bit older, a bit more experienced.’
‘So he was better than me?’
‘Well … yes.’
‘What did he do?’
‘Do you really want to know?’
‘Maybe I can get some pointers.’
She got out of bed and took a photo album from the bottom of her wardrobe. ‘Let me show you some pictures of him,’ she said, as she got back into bed.
I was sitting up in bed next to my naked girlfriend, poring over pictures of another man. There was a picture of the two of them on a beach somewhere. Fit and tanned in a white swimsuit, she had her arm around the waist of a tall man with sun-bleached hair. He had his arm around her shoulder.
‘He’s called Josh,’ she said. ‘He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?’
‘I’m not a great connoisseur of male beauty,’ I mumbled.
‘I know, but you must admit he’s a good-looking guy.’
‘I suppose so.’
She turned the pages of the album. There was a photo of her in a stunning scarlet dress standing next to Josh, looking very suave in a tuxedo. There was another photo of them in a restaurant with a group of friends. She had her head resting on his shoulder.
Suddenly she kissed me passionately. It was the kiss she always gave me when she wanted to have sex. She put the photo album on the floor by the bed. She lay back with her eyes closed. I started kissing and stroking her. Then I noticed the way she was smiling. It was a nostalgic smile. She was thinking about the past – about Josh.
It made me jealous. Why did she need to think about someone else when she was in bed with me? But I was also turned on. When I got inside her, I came almost immediately, but I didn’t make a big thing about it. I gently pulled out and replaced my cock with my fingers. The feel of my fingers moving inside her, coupled with the images of her ex running through her head, were enough to bring her to orgasm.
She opened her eyes and she was back with me again. She put the photo album away and we didn’t say any more about it. I had an assignment to write, so I went back to my own room. I wasn’t sure what had happened. I was a bit worried that I’d been so turned on. As a young man, I constantly asked myself the question, ‘Am I normal?’ This suggested I was anything but normal. But, I told myself, it was just a one-time thing. I didn’t want Deborah thinking about Josh when I was in bed with her. So I promised myself I would never mention it again.
But being turned on is a bit like being drunk. It can make bad ideas look like very good ones. The next time we were in bed, I couldn’t help asking, ‘So … how … you know … big was Josh?’
‘What?’ she said. She looked a bit shocked.
I tried backpedaling a bit. ‘I was just wondering. But if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.’
‘Why do you want to know?’ Before I could say anything, she answered her own question. ‘Does it turn you on?’
‘A bit,’ I said.
‘Okay, if you must know, roll over and I’ll show you.’ I rolled onto my back. She held her finger about an inch and a half above the tip of my erect cock. ‘It was about this big.’
‘So it was bigger than mine?’
‘Yes, it was bigger.’
I rolled her onto her back and fucked her, hard and fast. She soon realized that, if she ever wanted to have sex, she had a button she could press. All she had to do was mention Josh and I was ready.
After that, we nearly always talked about him in bed. Occasionally she said, ‘Can’t it just be the two of us sometimes?’ And I would promise not to talk about him next time. But then I would find it difficult to get aroused and she would say, ‘Josh never had any trouble in that area.’ And suddenly I was hard.
Looking back, I can see that a lot of what excites me now came out of my experiences with Deborah.
I was still with her when I met Tina. It was a cold, sunny morning. Tina was standing outside the main campus building. She looked very pretty in a short black jacket and a black beret. She was handing out flyers for someone called Joseph P Weaver, who was running for student president. I took one of them.
‘What does your candidate stand for?’ were the first words I ever said to her.
‘I have no idea,’ she said. ‘One of my friends just asked me to hand these out. I haven’t even read them. He might be a neo-Nazi for all I know. Do you want to help me?’
I didn’t like the idea of distributing neo-Nazi propaganda, but I knew I wanted to spend some time with her. I took a quick look at one of the flyers. His main policy was to improve street lighting on campus. I had no ideological issues with that, so I could hand out the flyers with a clear conscience. I even started saying things like, ‘Vote for Joseph P Weaver! Get the representation you deserve!’
‘You’re a natural,’ said Tina. When we’d rid ourselves of all the flyers, she said, ‘Thanks. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?’
I did wonder what Deborah would say if she saw me with another woman, but I wasn’t going to say no. We went to the coffee shop and started talking.
There was something different about her. With Deborah, I always had to pretend a little bit. I had to convince her that I was a bit louder, a bit sportier, a bit more of a party person than I actually was. With Tina, I could be myself. I assumed we were just going to be friends. After all, she was far too pretty for me. A woman like her should have been dating some guy with a chiseled jaw and a trust fund. I kept waiting for her to throw in a reference to her boyfriend on the gymnastics team or the guy back home she was engaged to. But she didn’t.
We kept running into each other. We drank a lot of coffee. We talked a lot. And one afternoon, she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back. I didn’t know if this was going to be our one and only kiss, so I made sure I enjoyed it. Then my conscience made me pull back. ‘Isn’t this what you want?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I do. Very much. But I’m with Deborah.’
‘So why do you spend most of your time with me?’
I went up to Deborah’s room. She could tell from my expression that I had bad news for her. ‘Deborah,’ I began, ‘you’re wonderful ….’
‘But you’re breaking up with me. I’ve been wonderful three times in my life before and every time I’ve had my heart broken.’
‘Heart broken?’
‘You’re a nice guy, Rob. A bit weird maybe, but a nice guy. I could kind of see myself ending up with you.’
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s Tina, isn’t it?’
‘That obvious?’
‘ “Tina said the funniest thing today,” and “I’m reading this great book that Tina lent me.” Do you want to have sex one last time?’
‘Better not.’
‘You see, that’s a nice guy. Most men jump at the chance of break-up sex. Well, you go and find Tina. I hope you’ll be happy.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Do you mind if I give you some advice?’
‘Please do.’
‘It’s probably not a good idea to quiz Tina about her ex-boyfriends when you’re in bed together. She might think it’s odd.’
I knew this was excellent advice. And the first few times I was with Tina, I didn’t need anything more than her naked in bed. She did ask me, ‘What do you like?’
But I answered with bland things like, ‘Sexy underwear. The girl going on top.’
Then one night, after I’d been with her for three weeks, we were in her room together. We kissed. I undressed her. I was kissing her breasts when I started to worry. I couldn’t feel my cock straining impatiently. I reached down and felt it. It was soft and limp.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ I asked my cock – internally, of course. ‘We’re in bed with the most beautiful woman we’ve ever seen. She is very keen to have sex. And you’re not in the mood? Come on! This is your job!’
But my cock did not respond well to being bullied. If anything, it retreated into itself and got even smaller.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Tina.
‘Don’t worry. Just a slight technical problem.’
She looked down and saw what I meant. ‘We’ll have to see what we can do about that,’ she said. ‘What would turn you on most right now?’
‘Just being with you is a huge turn-on. I don’t know what’s the matter with it.’
‘I’ve been having a rather naughty fantasy. Would you like to hear it?’
‘Oh yes!’
‘Well, we’re on a train, in a crowded compartment.’ I wanted her to say that she fucked everyone else in the compartment in front of me. ‘And we are just so horny. So I get up and go off to the bathroom.’
Please say there’s some handsome stud waiting for you in the bathroom.
‘And a few seconds later, you follow me. You join me in the bathroom and lock the door behind you.’
Darn it. It was a fantasy about me.
‘I’m wearing a short skirt. I pull it up and take off my panties. I bend over the basin. And your cock is so hard. It’s like rock. You just get it out and push it into me from behind. The feel of my pussy and the movement of the train go together to give you the most incredible orgasm you’ve ever had. Do you like that fantasy, Rob?’
‘Yes, I do.’ I liked the fantasy very much. I was even wondering when we could take a train trip together.
‘But he doesn’t,’ she said, looking down at my cock. ‘What does he need?’
‘Well,’ I began, tentatively, ‘there is one thing that might work.’
‘What?’
‘I’m guessing I’m not the first guy you’ve ever been with.’
‘You’re not one of these men who’s obsessed with a finding a virgin, are you?’
‘No, just the opposite.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘How many guys have you had?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘I just do.’
‘Eight.’
‘And what did you do with them?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When you were in bed with them, what did you do?’
‘Er … we had sex.’
‘What sort of sex?’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say. It was just sex.’
‘Was it better than what you have with me?’
‘Look, Rob, I’m not sure what’s going on here. But I don’t feel comfortable talking about my ex-boyfriends. They’re people I cared about.’
‘Sorry.’
‘Is this your thing? Hearing about me with other guys?’
‘It’s sometimes worked in the past.’
‘I might be able to help. I mean, you’re not the first who’s been around here today. Dirk was here earlier.’
‘Dirk?’
‘He came round and fucked me. He’s got a twelve-inch cock.’
‘That’s pretty big!’
‘And he fucked me ten times – one after another without stopping. He made me cum about twenty times.’ Tina’s fantasizing skills were still a bit raw in those days. She hadn’t realized yet that plausibility is an essential ingredient in a great fantasy. But it was enough to make my cock hard.
‘You’re strange,’ she said, as she lay back on the bed and I got on top of her.
On Sunday morning, I woke up at half past eight, got up and made breakfast. I didn’t really have a hangover, but I could feel that I’d been drinking the night before. I moved a little bit more slowly round the kitchen. I made pancakes and ground some coffee beans. I hoped the smell of real coffee would drift upstairs and make Tina and Steve come down.
Ten minutes later they did come down. They didn’t show any signs of suffering from the brandy the night before. They both looked fresh. But they weren’t saying much to each other. Tina turned on the TV and we watched it as we ate breakfast.
After we’d finished, Steve went upstairs to get his bag. ‘Well, I’d better get going,’ he said, when he came back down. He kissed Tina. ‘You were amazing,’ he said.
‘You didn’t do so badly yourself,’ she replied.
‘Thanks for breakfast,’ was all he said to me.
‘No problem.’ He left. Tina closed the door behind him.
‘Everything okay?’ I asked her.
‘Sure. Why?’
‘You were both a bit quiet this morning.’
‘We were together all day yesterday.’
‘So, is he coming again next weekend?’ I asked.
‘No.’
‘A weekend on our own for once?’
‘I’m afraid not, babe. He asked me to go over to his place.’
‘What?’
‘He says it’s unfair, expecting us to be the hosts all the time.’
‘Did he invite me, as well?’
‘No. He also said he’d like a weekend where it’s just me and him.’
‘And did you tell him that’s not the way it works?’
‘No, I kind of said it would be okay.’
‘What? The whole point is—’
‘I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Just imagine how great that will be.’
I tried to focus on that. And I was glad to have Tina to myself for the rest of the day. We did the shopping for the week. We made calls to family. We cleaned the house. At the end of the day, we sat down on the couch to eat dinner. Her legs were back where they belonged – draped over my knees. We didn’t talk about Steve or anything that had happened. We needed to spend some time just being us.
At ten o’clock, we went to bed. I put my arm around her and we went to sleep.