We meet three new players.

It turns out that my husband must be somewhat of a prophet, because the next morning after our fuck session (it definitely wasn't our normal 'lovemaking') I couldn't get the thought of his rock-hard pole out of my mind. Or out of my ass crack, for that matter. It had become wedged there at sometime during the night and I spent a good fifteen minutes enjoying the feel of it against my skin, wriggling my hips like a horny schoolgirl.

Finally, I couldn't take the excitement anymore and, for the second time in as many weeks, I woke my husband up by sucking on his morning wood. I loved every second of it. The taste of his precum, the firmness of his rod in my mouth, the delighted groans that reached my ears as I gently cupped his balls; it was like some wanton part of my brain had been awakened by our passions and I was almost as excited giving my husband a blowjob as he was to receive it. And when his sperm splashed into my mouth, I couldn't help by mewl like a little kitten who had gotten into the cream. I couldn't get enough and kept my lips wrapped around his shaft until I was completely sure he was finished, licking it until his skin was spotless.

But that wasn't the end of my oral fixation for that week. Not by a long shot. At least once I day, I was able to find time to pull my husband to an isolated spot, pull down his pants and give him loving, sloppy blowjobs. I'm sure he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. I don't think I pleasured him that much orally even when we were teenagers and couldn't control our hormones.

Twice I cornered him in the shower, reveling in the hot spray of the water as I fell to my knees and worshiped his beautiful dick like a good wife should. On Tuesday, he came back from work, having forgotten some paperwork when he'd left in the morning. I heard his car pull into the driveway and had just enough time to pull of my top and bra so I could greet him at the door completely topless. His eyes locked hungrily onto my huge tits and I was unsurprised to find his dick aching to be freed from his pants as soon as the door closed. My favorite time, though, was when we were coming back from a trip to the store and I was so horny that I gave him road head all the way home, getting him to cum just in time to arrive home, where our daughter Sarah was waiting to help unload the groceries. The added danger of being seen on the road, being caught added a lot of spice to that particular encounter.

I could feel myself changing, becoming more lewd with each passing day. A small part of my mind was trying to tell me that this wasn't right, that I shouldn't be feeling or acting so brazen, even with my own husband. I think it was that part that led me to invite my best friend, Erin, over for lunch on Friday. Maybe I wanted her to talk me down. Maybe I wanted validation for my actions. Either way, our discussion would end up being one more domino that toppled in my path to sexual deviancy.

Erin arrived as she always does, dressed in a _haute couture _dress, specifically tailored for her exact measurements. She and Dan, her husband, had moved to our little burg almost a decade ago now, bringing themselves and their two kids from the big city when Dan had gotten a position as chief prosecutor in our tiny county. Why he'd given up his job as an assistant district attorney and uprooted his entire family to live in the middle of miles and miles of farmland, I didn't know. But we'd become immediate friends when, at a contentious PTA meeting at our kids' elementary school, she ruthlessly and bitingly smacked down Lillian Ringleford, an uptight, righteous bitch I'd known my whole life, and supported my proposal instead.

We made a bit of an odd pair, a contrast in opposites you could say. Me, a country girl who'd married her high school sweetheart and never lived more than ten miles away from my childhood home, and Erin, a devoted urban socialite who confessed to marrying her husband largely because of his family's money and who never stepped out her door without being dressed to the nines.

Today's ensemble was a mauve wrap dress, cinched at the waist with a delicately tied bow. She'd even coordinated enough to have matching earrings, bracelet and heels that made me want to fall down just looking at them. She looked phenomenal in it...well, she always looks good no matter what. God, she makes me want to gag sometimes.

I supposed I should also mention that she's a blonde bombshell. Again, almost my polar opposite. She's statuesque to my average height, blond haired and blue-eyed like a nordic princess while I am dark-haired and green-eyed, gorgeously tanned while my skin is a nice creamy white. The only department where we share similarities is our breasts. Both of us are top-heavy and her bras are one of the few pieces of clothing I've been able to borrow from her that look good on me. Of course, hers are fake--bought by her husband--while mine are hometown grown and bred, honest-to-goodness, totally original titflesh...a point I bring up any chance I get with Erin.

She sat down at our table, her long legs folded beneath her chair like a proper lady. "Alright, girl," she said, taking a long sip of the tea I'd prepared for our meal. "Spill. You sounded so wound up over the phone that I know you've got something on your mind. What is it?"

Honestly, I'd only planned on giving her the bare bones of the situation. The rekindling of my love life with James, our goals in the bargain we'd made, how the whole situation made me feel. But as I started speaking, I found myself unable to hold back anything. I went into lurid details regarding the events of the previous weekend, describing every moment from the coin toss to when James emptied himself deep in my pussy. I believe I may have even given a word-for-word account of some of the things we'd been screaming at each other. Even Erin, a woman who prided herself at always appearing in control no matter the situation, had a flush to her cheeks when I finished.

She nibbled at her sandwich for a minute to compose herself as I fell back into my chair, drained from the retelling. Finally, she set down her food and looked at me with a slight quirk to her mouth. "And so you called me over to brag?"

I burst out laughing. I couldn't help it. Tension fled from my body and a new sensation replaced it, one that I don't think I'd felt in years. It was a mixture of many things: happiness, contentness, acceptance, fulfillment.

Erin joined in and soon the two of use ladies were guffawing like fools, neither of us totally sure why we thought the situation was so funny. She wiped at a tear forming in the corner of her eye and took a couple of deep breaths.

"So, you think that everything I described is...normal?" I asked with the slightest trepidation.

She snorted--fuck, she even made that sound lady-like. "Hell no!" She leaned forward in her chair, giving me a up-front and close-up view of her spectacular cleavage, and shook her head until her blonde curls were swinging like mad. "It's not normal at all. You're living the fucking dream! A wife who has overcome the stagnant sex-life she shared with her husband, opening herself up to hot, steamy, passionate fucking after a period of drought? It would only be more amazing if it had grown beyond your ordinary weekend trysts."

I smiled wickedly and Erin's perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised up a full inch. She pushed her tongue into her cheek and sat back, crossing her arms across her belly, content to wait until I spilled my guts some more. With a little shrug I explained my new oral fixation, again over-sharing every cocksucking moment I'd had with James this week. This time, she just shook her head in wonder.

"You know you're going to give us other wives a bad name with all these blowjobs, right? What if word spreads about how often you've got James' dick in your mouth and other husbands begin to expect the same things from their wives?" Her mocking tone was belied by the sparkle in her eyes. She chuckled. "Hell, I have a hard enough time pleasing Dan without resorting to daily blowjobs. I mean, the last time I tried to get him to lick my pussy, he wasn't even able to..."

The back door slammed and both of us looked up in shock as my son Will walked into the kitchen. We must have looked guilty about something because he shot us both odd glances, with his gaze lingering on Erin's hourglass figure. He'd had a crush on her ever since puberty hit him full **** and his awkward attempts at trying to hide the fascination were an inside joke with our family.

I cleared my throat. "Home from work early?"

He nodded. He'd followed in his father's footsteps, joining the feed and seed store right out of high school and working as a low-level employee so as not to bring complaints of nepotism. "Yeah, I promised Sarah I'd help her get ready for her game this weekend. You know, give her some tips and help her practice."

Erin's face brightened and she leaned across the table in a move that I found familiar from just a few minutes ago. Her breasts spilled forward, pressed together by her arms and further accentuated by being pushed against the tabletop, threatening to tumble from her dress if she breathed deeply. My son's eyes almost bugged out of his head and his mouth went dry, flapping open like a fish. "Oh, you're good at giving tips, are you? I bet all the girls say that."

I've never mastered the art of going from normal housewife to sultry seductress in a second flat, but Erin was a master at it. Her whole tone of voice exuded double entendre and you could feel the sexual tension rise palpably.

My son was saved from forming a coherent response by the entrance of Sarah, my youngest child, slamming through the door like a whirlwind. She was wearing her soccer uniform, a loose white shirt and tight, skimpy shorts, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She tossed her backpack on a nearby chair and flicked the soccer ball she was carrying at her brother who fumbled the initial catch but recovered before it hit the floor. As usual, Sarah was completely oblivious to the mood she was interrupting. "You ready, Billy? I need to get this practice in early because I've got a ton of math homework to do. Mrs. Everson can be such a bitch sometimes, giving us homework over the weekend when she knows we have a game!"

"Language," I said automatically but it bounced off her like she's made of steel. She snatched up a sandwich, stuffed it in her mouth and dragged Will off by the arm like she was the older sibling, instead of the other way around.

As they leave, Erin gives one more parting shot to my son. "Bye, Billy!" For some reason, Sarah is the only one who can get away with calling her brother Billy. Everybody else calls him Will and he shot Erin one final look before he disappeared into the backyard.

As I cleaned up the plates, I said, "It's not nice to tease him, you know." Erin set her glasses by the shrink and shrugged.

"Not all of us are getting everything they need from their husbands. Some of us have to find...amusements elsewhere. Plus, it's only looking and that obviously doesn't count!"

I waved my hands at her chest, which still hadn't completely settled back into her top. She reached down and unceremoniously readjusted herself until they were at least moderately hidden. "It wasn't just looking," I replied. "And Will's dating your daughter. Do you really want to encourage him like that?" Will and Michelle had been dating for over a year and both families had expectations of things developing further.

I saw her tongue push against her cheeks as she thought that over, obviously trying to find an avenue in which to defend her actions. Finding none, she sighed and gave me a hug and kiss on my cheek. "Fine," she said, sounding petulant. "I will refrain from flaunting my goods at your son, although you must admit his physique is quite pleasing to the eye. But you must keep me fully update with all the...events that you and James get up to. If I can't have my own fun, I guess I'll have to live vicariously through your adventures for now. We'll do this again next week?"

I nodded my head and walked her to the door. With a wave of her hand and a shouted 'Ta!', she climbed into her shiny little car and peeled out of our driveway. After she was gone, I stood at one of our back windows and watched my children in the backyard, Will helping his little sister with her footwork. I was struck by two thoughts as I stood there, a voyeur in my own house.

One: Erin's right, Will does have a very nice body, big muscles from lifting heavy loads all day long.

And two: Sarah must be wearing a new sports bra today. Otherwise her boobs would be bouncing around a lot more.

Odd thoughts, but ones that didn't compute as being out of line at the time. Future events would make me rethink that.