As his ejaculation subsided he said to me “Paul”.
I replied “What about Paul?”
“You asked my name, it’s Paul, Doctor Paul xxxxxxxx but my friends just call me Paul, I think it’s only fair that any woman that allows me to cum in her arse should be a friend. Chris you are one exceptional woman and you know that you are only the third woman I’ve met who didn’t beg me to stop… insatiable, absolutely exceptional”.
We swapped phone numbers and arranged that he would visit us in two weeks time and maybe stay the night. I told him that I’d have to agree it with my husband but I really don’t think it’ll be a problem.
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That’s the story from my perspective, what follows is not part of the story but relate to the life changing consequences of that fateful day. Please read on if you feel that you want a deeper insight into this and the stories Paul has written.
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Remember that this was my husband’s idea, the very thought of having sex with another man was repugnant to me and I surrendered to his will only to please him. As it turned out it was one of the most momentous and liberating events of our lives. That was three years ago and our life has changed in so many meaningful ways. Our love for each other is still as strong as ever but we now have several extra dimensions that we didn’t even know existed and those dimensions require implicit trust.
Here are a couple of examples of our trust in each other. We found out a couple of months after that first encounter that Paul was infertile, explaining why I hadn’t conceived. With Paul’s consent my lover and his friends remedied that and I became pregnant following a very eventful weekend. A couple of weeks later my lover’s partner died and he went into a deep depression. On hearing of this, not from me as it happens, Paul immediately packed me off to my lover with instruction not to come home until he was back on his feet, it took ten weeks. I was away from my husband for most of the first trimester of my pregnancy, only seeing him once and communicating with him quite rarely, ten weeks where he was working up to 18 hours a day doing my work as well as his own.
I still see my lover regularly so how can I possibly love my husband? I occasionally have a group sex session with my lover and a few of his friends so how can I possibly love my husband? I have even played at being a prostitute, visiting a red light area in Manchester, renting a room and having sex with several men over a few hours so how can I possibly love my husband? The answer is so obvious that I was surprised that people even suggested that I don’t love my husband. The answer is – how could it be any other way.
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You have read about Pauls penultimate gift to me, his ultimate gift was his support, understanding and love when I became pregnant. I became pregnant the weekend following this devastating news that Paul was infertile. My lover introduced me to three of his friends for a non-stop sex party.
The birth caused a commotion among the maternity staff. When I went into labour my husband phoned my lover and I gave birth to twins, a girl and a boy with both my husband and my lover by my side.
My lover had fathered Samantha, named in memory of his deceased partner. To this day we are not sure who fathered Adika, obviously his father is of West African origin and so is our sons name. My lover needed to know if he was a dad, tests proved he was the proud father of a beautiful baby girl and also proved he definitely was not the father of a bouncing baby boy. The other three men are not willing to be tested and I’m not bothered about pushing it. The children have a father, they also have a second father both are called Paul.
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