Angst. That’s truly the only way I can describe the feeling. The feeling that consumed me when I watched my wife give herself to another man. Of course, I wanted it; I set it up; I orchestrated it. So I couldn’t be mad. But it was intense all the same.
Ella had taken to it much easier and with much more enthusiasm than I ever imagined she might. This also tortured me, but thrilled me at the same time. The thought that she had wanted this all along…the fact that she enjoyed Steve’s cock as much as she did…that she encouraged him to cum inside her, when we hadn’t even discussed such boundaries. It was all so crazy! What am I even doing?
The next morning was surreal. I woke early (I’m an early riser by nature), and recalled last night’s festivities immediately. The high of it all had tapered off and I was left with pangs of jealousy, regret, anguish. Ella was still soundly asleep, and I didn’t want to wake her. I imagine she needed the rest after our wild night. During the night, the blanket had slid down her body, and I could see the soft curve of her ass. God she was beautiful. And sexy. Achingly sexy.