Well all I can say is that I brought it on myself. It started off innocently enough about a week after our marriage, when as she lay snuggled against me after we'd made love I began telling her of a dream, really a fantasy of mine. I told her how in my dream/fantasy I'd been watching TV and she came into the living room wearing a really short pleated skirt and a skimpy little top without any buttons that she'd tied just beneath her breasts, you know kinda like a gypsy, and then with hands on hips she smiles impishly telling me she wants to go out. I jokingly reply that dressed like that the only place we should go was maybe our neighborhood tavern, or perhaps the pool hall, places were strangers could gawk at her scantly clad body and maybe even try to pick her up.

Anyway as I said that's how it started, and over the next few weeks I repeated the fantasy almost nightly changing only her style of dress or maybe the location I would take her to, but one thing remained constant, she was always scantily clothed. Vividly I described how proud she made me in my dream/fantasy as she strolled provocatively amongst strangers openly flirting and even at times letting them sneak a quick feel. In great detail I would tell her how not only the men that she flirted with would became aroused to the point of wanting to fuck her, but that I too would get horny and want to fuck her right in front of them. And then I would tell her how when we returned home after her provocative actions I would make passionate love to her late into the night.

At first she thought me sick for having such thoughts about her doing something like I described, and she refused to even consider going out in public as she so aptly put it "dressed and acting like a cheap slut." I figured there was little possibility of her ever doing as I fantasized what with her being from a God fearing family as she was, as well as being the niece of a bible thumping Minister. But I kept at it and eventually my persistence along with words of enduring love and how proud and aroused she would make me paid off because, and to my great joy, she finally relented.

Our first outing had been to a pool hall and you wouldn't believe how many guys hung around our table flirting with her. At first she not only tried to ignore them but wouldn't leave my side until after repeated whispered encouragement along with assurances of my love she loosened up and began shyly flirting. After that it was only a matter of time before her actions boarded on brazen as leaning over the table to take a shot she would jiggle her cute little ass about as if encouraging the men to grab a feel, and several of them did. Later as we lay in each others arms and I talked about how some of them had snuck a feel when they thought I wasn't looking, while she in turn shyly admitted to me how excited and aroused she had gotten when the strangers had felt of her.

But her next admission floored me as she told how when they had whispered to her that they'd fuck her brains out she had wondered what it would feel like making love to strangers. Without stopping her narration she told how as they had felt of her and whispered nasty things they wanted to do to her she had envisioned herself laying naked atop the pool table as all the men dropped their pants showing her their cocks. By then we were both very aroused and had some of the best sex a married couple could wish to have. There was another even more explicit fantasy I had concerning her and several men that her confession brought to mind, but I thought it still to early at this stage of our experiment into voyeurism to approach her with.

But as everyone knows, or at least should, things have a way of happening that you don't always foresee. Despite even the best laid plans things have a way of very rapidly spinning beyond one's control, and a good example is my stupid fantasies. Fantasies that not only became realities more often they I care to think about but also wilder and more wanton then anything I ever envisioned. And now that I'm being honest, I don't believe I had any control or voice in the matter since the night we'd gone to the pool hall and her bedroom confession of fantasizing being fucked by other men. As I sit here in our darkened living room still deeply in love with my wife I can't help but brood about the hand fate has dealt me. Though it's a hand I dealt myself without realizing in my stupidity where it might lead, I have to play it out. I would rather share her with strangers then go through life without her. But still, I can't help but be filled with murderous hate toward the man or men she's with tonight.

It was almost a year ago April 23rd 1998 that Lillian Thurston and I, Matthew Longstein were married. She was to graduate high school in June and I was just entering my junior year of college that fall. There was almost 5 years difference in our age but I never thought that would be a problem, after all at 22 I couldn't be said to be an old man. Or at least that's what I honestly thought. I mean really, does anyone out there think that a 17 year old, and an inexperienced one at that, could wear out a virile stud such as I thought myself to be. No fucking way anything like that could happen, right? Well after three months of marriage that's just what was happening as our escapade's into the underbelly and night life of the city became even more frequent and daring.

On the nights we didn't go out because I had to study she was always climbing onto my lap and trying to kiss me and shit. At other times, like when I had to work she became moody, but by the time I got home from my part time job she was all smiles and kissy, kissy and like a hell cat between the sheets. So yea this big strong football tight-end was being worn to a frazzle and that's how I learned six months into our marriage that there's no such thing as innocent fantasies. It had started innocent enough like I said earlier, when after a great deal of discussion we decided that we'd have her public showing on the night of her 18th birthday, what we later would call her birthday adventure. Our first stop had been to Victorias Secret where despite her initial shyness she very easily went through better then 600.00 bucks. As I watched her shop I noticed her becoming more relaxed and I think a great deal of it was because so many women were trying on and showing off different sexy outfits for the men they were with.

At first her choices had been along the lines of what you could buy at say Uptons, daring, but not really provocative or what I had in mind. The longer we were there though the more daring her picks became, until finally and with much gushing and excitement on her part she was eyeing apparel so sheer as to be mere wisp of chiffon. If I thought she'd been carried away in Victories she was twice that and more when we returned home. She was ecstatic. She had to try on every piece again as we finalized where our first adventure would occur, finally settling on a pair of baby blue short shorts that looked as if they were painted on along with a translucent top that she tied just below her 34c breasts just like the actress that played Daisy Duke. In fact dressed as she was, with the exception of her raven black hair, Lillian could have been Daisy, the same 5 foot 7, 34-21-33 curvaceous figure and flippant attitude.

As we readied to leave I noticed there were no panty lines, and when I mentioned it she shyly said that because the shorts were so tight she'd decided against wearing any for fear it would spoil the look or ruin my fantasy. When I asked about a bra she blushed profusely and shyly answered, "That too." and right then I knew she was getting into this fantasy thing just as much if not more then me, because I hadn't thought about her going without undergarments at this early stage. Two hours later and after several games of 9 ball, along with a lot of groping as well as what I imagined were whispered propositions, I dragged her protesting from the pool hall. During the drive home I kept glancing at her silent pouting face until unable to contain myself I yelled at her telling her to quit pouting because she was acting like a spoiled child and then I said something I shouldn't have. I accused her of wanting to fuck everyone in the pool hall. At first she simply looked at me with a hurt look in her eyes, but then with a beaming smile she snuggled against me pushing her lips to my neck whispering sultry promises of uninhibited sex as her hand undid my zipper and slipped into my pants to massage my growing hard-on.

Little did I realize that, that rashly spoken accuisition was about to come back and smite me, and a hell of a lot sooner then I even care to think about because later as we lay in bed she admitted to having thoughts very much along those lines. After a wild night of sex where she even woke me up a couple of times I laboriously dragged myself from bed not even wanting to go to school while she on the other hand was the picture of freshness. As I showered and she fixed breakfast she bubbled on about the night before repeatedly admitting how excited and aroused she had gotten from all the attention she had received while I in turn jokingly answered I would never have guessed. Pushing me out the door she told me not to call her as she was going out looking for a job but that she'd be home in plenty of time to fix our dinner.

That was the beginning of her running around but of course I had no way of knowing that at the time. She'd had a taste of exciting men and being aroused in the process but it was only after several more excursions that I learned she'd been doing everything I and a million other men ever fantasized their wife's and/or girl friends doing, and that she'd been doing them since the day after our first adventure to the pool hall. In my naivety of thinking I was in control I failed to notice that with each new adventure she was always quick and eager to comply with whichever fantasy I described and even going further then I expected. It was almost as if she could read my mind as to how far she could push my fantasy without me saying something or possibly intervening until finally it had gone beyond the kissing, fingering stage to where I was watching her take a lover. By then it made little difference what she did or how she acted to achieve what we now both wanted and hungered for. The first time I really remember her going beyond what I requested her to do was the first time she sucked a strangers cock in my presence. It happened in that theater over on Oakly that shows skin flicks, and even though we'd been in there a couple of times before this night was different. Where before we'd always sit together and she'd give me a hand job and maybe a blow job that I'll have to admit wasn't the greatest, this night she wanted to sit by herself to see, as she put it, if anyone would hit on her.