I know I shouldn't. I know it is a shitty thing to do. I know I should really "get a life". And I know it is a betrayal of trust. But fuck it. I'm bored, I had nothing better to do tonight, and damn it...I'm curious! Besides, after six years of marriage it's not like we were supposed to have any secrets anymore. She might find out but I knew she'd forgive me. She knew what I was like.
I shift from my side of the couch over to Rebecca's. Leaning forward I jiggle the mouse connected to her laptop that sat open on the coffee table. It comes alive and I find myself looking at her open primary personal email account.
Generally she was always so careful to log out or shut her computer down when she was away from her laptop. Obsessively so I always felt. Her careful protection of her privacy was what had gotten my curiosity up in the first place. I could understand it of course, her business was her own, but it seemed a bit much at times. Tonight it so happened that while she was up making us some popcorn she received a call from work begging her to come in. With Rebecca being a nurse in an understaffed emergency room this was not an uncommon event. For the first time ever she forgot that she was signed in on her laptop and as she hurried from the house I immediately made note of this.
"I'll be home as soon as I can Dan." She had called back to me.
"Miss you!" I replied as the door swung closed.
For a while I sat and pretended I wasn't going to look but after a few minutes I knew I was fooling myself. Rebecca would be gone for at least a couple of hours to help out through the peak time. I may never have a better opportunity.
I begin perusing some of her more recent correspondence. Boring...boring...boring. Emails to and from family and friends talking about stuff I already knew about. Scanning over each bland email my guilt began to rise. I was messing with her privacy for this!? The risk-reward ratio just wasn't worth it. Besides, what in the hell did I honestly think I was going to discover? That she had a secret life as a CIA operative? This was juvenile and devious and just plain wrong. I move the mouse to close out the open tab...
...and that's when I see it.
Just a line. An innocent aside. A quick reference to something in an email from her best friend Amber. "We'll always have Jamaica."
Why hadn't I thought of it sooner? Yes! Amber! Jackpot!
Amber was Rebecca's oldest and dearest girlfriend. Their friendship went way back into grade school and the pair of them knew everything about each other. And the Jamaica reference. A running inside joke of theirs that always elicited giggles but was never expanded upon, a quip said whenever life was wearing one of them down. Rebecca told me it was just a call back to their trip to the island back in their youth. A friend's trip they both had very fond memories of.
Moving forward in my seat I crack my knuckles. Now I was getting somewhere. I type a search in so that only messages from Amber's email address would be shown. I see their back and forth stretched from all the way back in 2002 right up until today.
I start at the beginning.
The first few emails were those of children and I feel even creepier than I already did by reading a few. I quickly skip ahead to their high school years. I read a few then fast forward once more to get to their senior year.
Ahh, here we go. Now it's starting to get good.
The discussion is of school, university applications, cute boys, bitchy girls, and so much more. It was an unvarnished peak into the minds of two popular 18 year old girls. The pair of them write back and forth in the open and bluntly honest language of best friends. It was simultaneously touching and hilarious. From what I could tell they had been quite a dynamic duo back in the day!
However, what I am most taken aback by was their casual language around their unabashedly promiscuous sexual activity. I always knew Rebecca had a longer list of former lovers than I had but I had no idea just how much longer it was! Senior year was when I lost my virginity. From these emails it was quite evident that Rebecca was already quite experienced. Her and Amber wrote in detail about each of their conquests and even graded their lovers between one and ten. It was juicy stuff! I found I had half a chubby just reading them. By the look of it these two averaged a new lover every week or two. Damn they were getting action back then!
They talk about looks, smell, power, stamina, size...everything! At the end of each lover's review they would have a little comment summing the man up along with the score. "Hot as hell, timid in bed. Five out of ten." "A bulldozer on the field, a jackhammer between the sheets! Eight out of ten." And so forth. I chuckle as I read one particular email brutally tearing down some poor bastard Rebecca had slept with named Chuck. "Lame fuck Chuck. Three out of ten." Ha ha ha ha!
This was good shit! So much better than what I had been expecting. I take a sip of beer and keep reading. The best book in the world couldn't grip me like these had. I wasn't sure why but just thinking about my wife Rebecca being such a high school tramp was exciting me to no end. I do miss a ton of stuff as they make references to text messages, phone calls, or just conversations they'd had in person. But what was here was still a treasure trove.
The emails continue unabated right through college. The reviews of their conquests also went on without a hitch. I was learning now how to recognize them from the others and I would skip straight from one to the next, reading each with an impassioned interest. "Dreamy professor, premature ejaculator. Four out of ten." "A thick motherfucker! I came like a banshee. Seven out of ten." "BBC? Nah, average at best. Five out of ten." "Strong, quiet type with the tongue of a demon! Eight out of ten!" And so on, and so on, and so on. Soon I was skipping Amber's reviews altogether just to concentrate on my wife's. So many lovers. Some good, some bad, most average. My cock could cut glass as more and more I imagined my wife performing these scenes with all of these other men.
Then it hits me. My heart skips a beat as it dawns on me that I was just moving into the year 2010...the year I met Rebecca! I remembered clearly our first date and how happy I was to make it to home base with her that night. My breath catches in my throat as I realize I was going to come across my own review if I kept reading.
Leaning back I think about this carefully. Did I want to read it? Whatever would be there would be raw and candid and not meant for my eyes. It would be something I could not unread afterward.
I take a deep breath. There was no way I was stopping now. Besides, of all of these men I was then one she had chosen to settle down with. I figure I must have made a pretty good impression on her. I take another slurp of beer and return to my reading.
As I started through her mail from 2010 most of the conversation surrounds Rebecca's upcoming graduation from her nursing program. The reviews slow as she seemed to buckle down to finish college. It is February of this year that I see the first reference to their upcoming trip to the Caribbean. Oh yeah, the Jamaica trip. I had almost forgotten about it. Wait...that only happened in 2010? I had always gotten the impression it was much earlier than that. A trip from back in their high school days. Huh.
The closer she got to graduation the more Rebecca talked about how much she was looking forward to the two week tropical getaway and just how much she needed it. In the spring of that year there is sudden rash of emails between her and her family and the school and the people arranging her upcoming internship, her emails to Amber slowed in response to this busy time of her life.
Skipping ahead to after her graduation I find emails from the two coordinating their trip. They spoke openly of how drunk on cheap rum they were going to get and how much tail they were going to chase. There is a final message the day before they were to leave. I am disappointed to see the next email wasn't until over two weeks later. Shit. They would have been together night and day that entire trip. Lounging on the beach during the day and partying at night. Of course they wouldn't be lobbing emails back and forth during this time.
Damn, Jamaica seemed forever destined to be a dark spot in my wife's history.
As I open the next email I soon see my fears were for nothing. In a response to a simple one line message from Amber that read: "Becca, we NEED to talk about Jamaica!"
My future wife replied:
Oh my god, YES! I don't know about you but I've been home three days and I STILL can't sit right! They don't grow them like that up here! I mean holy fuck, the smallest one was what? Seven and half, eight inches!? And Desmond! He was a foot if he was an inch, and thicker than my wrist! Christ Amber, I thought he was going to split me in half! Those four days we spent up the mountain...I was literally fucked silly. I can't even get it all clear in my head. You know! You were there! Anal, DP, Spit-Roasts. God Amber, I didn't know it was physically possible to cum that much! Those big mahogany studs could go all day and all night! I still can't believe what happened. If my pussy wasn't so sore and stretched I'd swear it had been a dream. Jesus Amber, we didn't even use protection. Ha ha ha! What were we thinking? Long story short, ten out of fucking ten for all eight of them. No, Desmond gets a TWELVE! Did you know he gave me his email address?
As I read those words over once...twice...three times I am suddenly aware that I had never in my life been harder and that my underwear was smeared wet with a copious amount of pre-cum. The image of strong, hung, brown skinned men fucking my big breasted wife silly...oh my god! I shake my head. What the fuck!?
Amber replies with a similar review. I am gobsmacked. Just months before meeting her eight black Jamaican's fucked the brains out of my lovely wife and her best friend for four days straight. I didn't know whether to be angry or offended or horrified or...or what. The only thing I did know is that I was rock hard and horny as hell. If I read much more I was going to have to tug one out. I decide then to hurry this along. There was just one more thing I wanted to read.
Scrolling through the emails I see a few more of Rebecca's reviews. Despite being "fucked silly" Jamaica had done nothing to slow her down. It is then I see it. The date was right. The very night of our first date. She must have sent it right after I went home. I take a deep fortifying breath and click it open.
The review is short and to the point.
Dan the man? I think not. Countdown of the pathetic beta male. Five feeble scrawny inches. Four seconds of foreplay. Three quick minutes (if that). Two out of ten. One disappointed woman. Blast off to nowhere. Good cuddler though.
My heart drops as I stare at the words on the screen. I could almost hear my male ego shatter in the stunned silence of my living room.
Amber's reply came just minutes later. "TWO!? Worse than Chuck!?" Chuck, the guy I had laughed at. The guy with the lowest score of them all...until this night. My wife's three word reply... "Worse than Chuck."
There is some joking back and forth at my expense and a comment is made that after Jamaica their standards had raised. Rebecca does lament my lack of size and sexual prowess as she had really liked me and thought I was funny and easy to get along with. She said I was a "sweetheart", a far cry from the "mahogany studs" from just a couple months previous.
Some twisted part of me forced me to continue. She slept with two more guys before she and I really got serious. A seven and an eight. My already broken confidence takes another hard blow as I realize that the eight was someone we knew. Manny, another nurse from my wife's unit and a good friend of ours. He'd been over many times for barbecues and parties. I had no idea they had been together. No clue that he was the last cock to be inside of her before our relationship. His review... "Absolute Pussy Slayer! Energizer Bunny! Kept going and going and going. Eight out of ten!"
But...my wife was no cheater. As I read through I could see her gradually falling in love with me. A second date, then a third, and then more. I remembered those exciting days like they were yesterday. The reviews stop.
Amber on more than one occasion attempts to talk sense into her best friend. "Really? Dan? The beta male? Mr Two out of ten? Are you sure about this Becca?" My wife would reply: "Yes, Dan's the one. He just does it for me. I can't describe it. He makes me happy. Please Amber, don't ever tell him what I said about him. I fake it for him and he's happy enough." Amber sends back. "Well, if you say so. I guess you'll always have Jamaica." My wife responds. "I'll always have Jamaica. ;)"
Despite my bruised ego I couldn't help but be touched. I had won her heart despite being the worst lover she had ever had. It was almost...romantic.
I had played with fire and dear lord did I get burned. Wounded by a trap of my own making I close out the emails and return the laptop to just how Rebecca had it before she left. I selectively clear some history then put it to sleep.
For the next hour I sit there numb to the world and as hard as I had ever been.
When I hear Rebecca finally return I am on her like white on rice. She is barely through the door and I have her in my arms, kissing her passionately.
"Mmmmmph!" She stiffens with surprise.
Scooping her up in my arms, coat and shoes and all, I carry her up the stairs toward our bedroom.
"Oh my god Dan! What's gotten into you?" I could see she was tired but she was more than willing.
"I'm gonna fuck you silly." I growl.
"Oh wow!" She throws her head back and kicks her feet excitedly as she allows me to ravish her.
I was so randy I don't even undress her. I throw her on the bed and pull down her panties and scrubs to about mid thigh then push her legs up. I slather a wad of spit into her still dry cooch before sinking my turgid five incher home.
"You beast!" She gasps.
I snarl and fuck her harder and faster than I EVER had before...
...in my fevered mind I see her making love to all of those men...dozens...hundreds...so many men fucking this woman that I called my wife...a three, many fours, scores of fives to sevens, a handful of eights and nines, and of course the seven tens and the big twelve from the Caribbean...I imagine all those cocks plowing this very pussy...bigger, better, longer lasting cocks...I imagine those eight big dicked Jamaicans reaming her out day after day in every imaginable way...I imagine Manny sitting and chatting in our backyard knowing he'd had my wife...and I imagine Amber greeting me brightly each and every time I saw her and knowing the truth of our sex life...
...no more than half a minute later I am blasting my load as deep as I could reach inside of her. The numbers on the clock hadn't even moved.
"GRRRRMMMMMMM!!!" I growl as I pump my seed inside of her.
She hadn't even had time to fake it...hell, she hadn't even had time to get into it! She watches me buck and grunt on top of her and can't hide her smile. "What the...? My goodness Dan! Holy shit, already!? Ha ha ha ha! You were excited! He he he!"
As I look down into her amused eyes I wondered what the review would have read for tonight. As I let out a great breath and my spent manhood slips from her creamy cooch I knew it couldn't have been better than a one. I slump down beside her and give her a kiss.
"Whoo...that was awesome. I missed you!"
"I'd say so!" She chuckles. "Wow!"
"Was it good for you?" I ask, studying her face closely.
She shakes her head and laughs harder. "Sure baby. You had me quivering...through all thirty seconds of it. Jesus. Ha ha ha!"
Some self derogatory part of me can't help but quip. "That's me. Dan the man, pussy slayer." A sudden anxiety rises within me at my stupid comment. I berate myself for being so bold as to repeat her own words so carelessly.
Her laughter continues without a hitch however. "You are in a weird mood." She leans over and kisses me. "Well Mr Dan the man, I'm going to clean up. Rebecca the woman is bloody exhausted. Be back soon baby."
I smile. "I'll be here."
I watch her plump rear sway side to side as she strides from the room. I was one hell of a lucky guy to have snagged such a woman.
Fifteen minutes later she is curling up beside me. We lay together naked and watching television. She is out like a light in no time at all. I watch her as she sleeps and wonder how the revelations I had learned tonight would change things between us. Would I be able to keep the secret? Would she figure it out herself? What would her reactions be? And why had I been so aroused by what I had learned?
With these questions and more swimming in my head I turn off the television, kiss my beautiful wife, then roll over to go to sleep myself.