Hazy light filters through an opened window, half concealed by a thickly-lined, partly-drawn curtain. Two bodies lie molded together, back-to-belly. Breathing in tandem… slow, steady, calm and peaceful.

Her arm is draped languidly over his waist, and her head is buried between his shoulder blades; face turned ceiling-wards to avoid suffocation. His fingers play lazily with hers, softly pulling them towards his face so she can feel his breath on them. He grunts involuntarily and shifts slightly so that her hand is now hanging over the soft bare skin of his stomach.

He sighs contentedly, mildly rousing her from her slumbers. Instinctively, her fingers begin to subtly trace patterns across his stomach and across the soft hair on his torso. She can feel the baby-soft skin beneath the tangle and she delights in the sensation that she causes, hearing it as he sighs almost-silently. The soft noises intensify as he shifts himself once more so that he is turned towards her and his fingertips on her body are mimicking hers on his own.

Tracing multi-dimensional shapes and patterns over warm, sleepy-soft skin, they each learn the various dips and contours of the other’s body as if anew. Her fingers restrict themselves mostly to his abdomen and chest, marveling at the breadth and strength contained therein. His sweep across a more macro plane — running over her shoulders, down her back and then up to her neck. Each time skimming the soft tender spot beneath her ear lobe, causing her to shiver afresh with delight, again and again.

They lie this way for what seems like hours, reacquainting themselves with each other physically. For now, no other contact is made although her nipples are taut and upstanding, and he can feel his arousal and his cock grow stronger by the second.

She can feel herself moistening rapidly, and decides to shift the current paradigm. Removing her hand from his torso, she reaches behind her back and grabs his. Instinctively, he uses this position to pull her closer toward him, until their faces touch and she can feel his breath on her cheek. She pulls his hand down and around and with a bold movement, sweeps it between her legs.

He moans appreciatively.

“Good god, you’re so wet.”

These are the first words that pass between them that morning, and they crystallize the mood for their time together — the time that this dawn has heralded.

Warm, tender and thoroughly depraved.

Her fingers once again itch to mimic his, and she moves her hand to his cock, eliciting deeper, more vocal sighs and moans of pleasure and appreciation. She moves her body so that he can continue his ministrations to her cunt, and pauses only to apply a dollop of lube to her fingertips. She continues her encouraging stroking of his cock, and accompanies it with a inquisitively slick finger sliding into his ass, crooking the digit once inside to reach and stimulate his prostate. She’s known he’s wanted this for a long time, and is secretly pleased because she also knows that she’s the first to do this for him. He yelps in delight.

“Oh my god! Yes, it’s so good….. oh…. yeeessss…. so so so good….mmm.”

His skilled fingers respond to this by seeking out her most vulnerable and orgiastic places, and stimulating them until she gasps from the intensity of the orgasm about to hit.

Together, they each induce an orgasm from the other. Lying there, silent but for involuntary ecstasy, they subside back into a warm embrace.

Dawn has indeed broken.

And so, the weekend begins.

Updated: Voted Reader’s Top Pick on Sugasm 57.

Updated 2: Fleshbotted by the very lovely Jefferson. Thank you, you sexy thang!

Fetishes are, to those who indulge, fun and arousing — a way of enhancing a sex life, maybe even a way of bringing two lovers closer together. On a more personal note, they can be a part of who a person is; in other words, simply the way they are wired. Which takes much of the issue of choice out of the equation, although not necessarily any of the arousal and/or fun.

As those of you who read here will have noticed, my darling Mr. Henry has a hotwife, or shared wife, cuckold fetish. He thrives on the combined double whammy of the jealousy at the thought of me sharing my body with another man, and the arousal that this creates; knowing that my heart and soul will always be his, that my body will always belong and return to him, and that in part, i do this for the purpose of arousing him.

What lover does not do things for their partner, for the purpose of arousal? Be it wearing sexy lingerie, or attending a public black-tie dinner function sans panties… we all do things to make our lovers glassy-eyed and panting with desire.

Henry has been known to wear a cock ring for me, for example. In public, although not on display.

However, there is another side to fetishdom that isn’t always considered, or acknowledged. Reality. And here, I speak specifically of the hotwife-cuckold fetish, since i am not experienced or equipped to write of any other.

When i say Henry gets jealous, i mean that he really gets jealous. Bang around the house, slamming off the walls, steam escaping pressure-cooker-like from his ears insanely jealous. This goes through several incarnations, and only ever happens when we are separated. The jealousy affects him in a manner that can only be described as full-blown, and the first time it happened, I was quite frightened of the effect of this upon him, and how he appeared to change.

This was, after all, something he had been encouraging me to do for many months. Something that I would never have considered doing if not for him. Not that I haven’t taken to being a hotwife like a duck to water, but the initial suggestion was his. Because of how he is. Because of who he is.

He had not so much subtly hinted as thrown giant boulder-sized clanging comments around about how he would be leaving a pack of twelve condoms in the desk drawer, and when he came back, he would be counting them and wanting to know where the missing condoms had gone, if any were missing.

“And what if none are missing?” I would routinely ask.

“That is entirely your choice,” he would reply, ambiguously. “I will never tell you what to do.”

This is all very different to his behavior in the past when we have shared a male lover. Then, the issue of covert operations, elicit despite his knowing of their occurrence, rarely made it onto the radar.

And yet he kept insisting that this was what he wanted. And so, when the occasion came to pass that Henry was overseas, and i had the opportunity to be with someone whom I had picked up via Craig’s List, I went for it.

And immediately i told him, I could hear the change in his tone. A slightly stunted timbre, a catch I was unfamiliar with. However, he repeatedly denied that anything was wrong, and so, rather obtusely, I must confess, I continued arranging to meet and fuck this young man, and then eventually did just that.

Henry went off the charts. He was fevered at the thought, motivated by his innate jealousy. But it all made him so hot. Since he had been so cavalier about it prior to my ever actually going through with such an event, I had given almost no thought to how it might affect him.

There followed what can only be described as a mandatory period of adjustment. And it was not smooth sailing. Not at all. Bear in mind that he was stuck in the Far East for an extended period of time, which made it all the more difficult for him.

We lurched from one day to the next — skimming the highs of our true love for one another, and the troughs of his jealousy and depression at his perceived inadequacy, since he couldn’t be there, that I would waltz off with the nearest cock that grabbed my attention.

Or, conversely, the nearest cock that i grabbed. Or sucked.

Naturally, his fears were completely ungrounded. I don’t think it helped that Billy was so much younger than he — I’m in my late thirties, and he is a good fifteen years older than I. Billy, being a mere 24 years of age, and single, made him far antsier than he would have felt had I been fucking a married college professor in his early forties, for example.

Eventually we managed to talk it out, once he’d managed to get past the white heat of the initial blast of full-on envy. And we began to return to normal.

He admitted to me:

“There are no guarantees, of course. But, for now, I’m okay with the new dynamic. It was inevitable. A natural progression. I accept it easier now. I know you only intend to cuck me as a means of making me hot and aroused. and it does. I just have to accept that I really, really get off on it in real life … not just as a fantasy that you purr into my ears as you slowly fuck me into delirium. I know i’ve put you through a lot. And i’m sorry for the roller coaster ride … but it’s all been new to me. The fantasy versus the reality, you know.”

I hugged him and held him close.

“Oh, my sweet darling, I know. I’m just so pleased that you’ve come full circle. That we’ve come full circle. It feels so much better now that we’re back on the same page.”

“I appreciate your patience and understanding, my darling Juno. And i love you more than my life.”

You see, Henry had realised that the reality of the situation was what he had wanted all along. That I would stray, but always return to him. He couldn’t believe that the reality would bear out the fantasy… but it truly did.