The Husband Sitter

By: Jessa Kane

Mrs. Black nods at Mrs. Blue, who nods and takes over. “My situation is somewhat different. I…” She breaks off, rolling her lips together and chuckling to herself. “I have something of a fantasy, you see. Of catching my husband with another woman. Since my fiftieth birthday is coming up, I’ve decided to embrace this part of my sexuality and…well, I’d like to watch him…take you, Astrid. Very much.”

Something is happening to me. It’s not subtle, either. I’m growing flush from head to toe and moisture is gathering between my thighs. This has never happened before. I long to throw myself into an ice bath, but at the same time, the low tug in my belly is…thrilling. The buds of my breasts tighten and I shift in my seat, trying to get comfortable and failing. What is happening to me? It’s the energy of the women, I know. The act of speaking about their desires—about intercourse—is giving them this hot, lustful feeling and thus, I’m experiencing it, too.

My gift is buzzing out of control.

“A-and you, Mrs. Red?” I breathe.

She opens her mouth and snaps it shut, saying nothing.

“Why don’t we save Mrs. Red’s situation for another time?” Mrs. Black cuts in smoothly. “We have all the time in the world, don’t we?”

Mrs. Blue smiles at me. “Have we thrown you for a loop, dear?”

“Yes,” I admit honestly.

“Of course you’ll be wondering what you get out of this bargain,” Mrs. Black continues, spreading her hands. “We’ll shower you with money and comfort, of course. A place to live. Transportation. Anything you could ever want, my dear.”

That’s a relief, since I don’t have unlimited funds or a place to stay, but I’m more concerned about something else. The reason I came here. “How will we create a unique, loving community?”

“We’re all close friends, Astrid,” explains Mrs. Blue. “We want you to be our friend, too. A special one. All six of us have these…needs. And it’s going to take an extraordinary person to help fulfill them and make our small community of seven happier.” She pauses to wet her lips. “We only ask that you make sure we’re involved or aware of any time you spend with our husbands. To make this work, we have to be honest and forthcoming. That’s the kind of community we’re trying to create. An honest, loving one.”

“I see.” I smooth my skirt down my thighs, and the friction raises goosebumps all over my skin. My pulse pumps and my panties grow more and more sodden the longer I remain in this potent energy. Lust times three, directed at me. I’ve never experienced sexual desire, and I can’t help but be curious if it gets even better. If my own hands excite me, what would a man’s hands feel like? A man whose hunger would transfer to me and make me feel it, too?

I want to know. Am I crazy for wanting to know?

There’s more, too. These women possess love. It’s bright and shimmering around them. Their auras and intentions are pure and honest. I’ve only been in their company for a matter of minutes and I already want to lay my head in their laps and listen to them talk about their friendship. Their marriages. Something important waits here with these people and I don’t want to walk away without exploring it.

“Astrid?” prompts Mrs. Black.

“I want to say yes. A-and my mother did make sure I was on birth control before I left home.” I blush over making such personal admissions out loud to near strangers. “The thing is…I have no experience with men. I’m a virgin.”

Mrs. Black tilts her head. “And you actually think this is a deal breaker?”

“It’s not?”

The three women laugh. “On the contrary,” says Mrs. Blue. “Although we might argue a little over who gets you first.”

A moment later, I’m warmed within three embraces, imbued with the excitement and anticipation of the women. I’m about to embark on an adventure and I don’t know what it holds. But there’s no turning back now.


Mr. Black

I spent last night in one of Mrs. Black’s guest rooms, surrounding in comfort. The four-poster bed is the largest one I’ve ever seen and covered in fluffy goose feather pillows. I never wanted to leave, even if I felt a little guilty being so indulgent. Back at the compound, I would have been up at the crack of dawn milking cows, spreading seed for the chickens and gathering eggs for breakfast.

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