My wife has worked part-time at a department store for about seven years. Now in our forties, I’d say our sex life has generally been fulfilling.
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Then, there was a stretch when she seemed distant, often saying she was too tired for intimacy, promising we’d connect tomorrow. One evening, she came home, showered, and slipped into bed, quickly falling asleep. I found myself wanting her deeply, so I gently began to pleasure her, cautiously lowering my mouth between her legs. She stirred, startled, urging me to stop. I reassured her, explaining I wasn’t aiming for intercourse, just wanting to bring her pleasure. Gradually, she relaxed, surrendering to the sensations as I explored her. Her excitement grew palpable, her taste intoxicating, and when I nestled beside her, she kissed me softly, whispering how much she had enjoyed it.
A few days later, her demeanor shifted entirely. She arrived home eager, pulling me toward the bedroom. Then, with fervent passion, she took me in her mouth, confessing how wet she was and begging me to make love. As we moved together, her words flowed freely—remarking on my size with a teasing confidence I hadn’t heard before. Whether it was her boldness or the fact we’d been apart for over a month, I found myself overwhelmed, bursting with desire.
In the days that followed, her hunger remained unquenchable. She’d surprise me, sliding my pants down to take me eagerly, moaning about her arousal. Removing her panties, I discovered just how wet she was, and when she urged me to taste her again, I gladly obliged. As we made love, she continued to comment on my size—I’m about six inches—which puzzled me. When I asked what sparked this newfound enthusiasm, she simply smiled, saying she’d been feeling more excited lately.
Weeks later, a secret surfaced. She confessed to an affair with a younger coworker she’d been training. Their clandestine encounters in his car ignited something in her, especially after I’d once pleasured her with his cum still inside her. He possessed a thick girth that gave her intense orgasms. She revealed how they’d talk about me—how I tasted him—and he’d cheekily tell her to go home and make love to me.
Though she ended that relationship, we remain committed to each other. Our intimacy has evolved; she often recalls those moments in bed, even suggesting I bring home a girthy dildo for her enjoyment. Perhaps her indiscretion wasn’t the end but a catalyst—our sex life is more vibrant and frequent than ever before.