The real hurting twist to this confession, is it was my idea to attend the sex party, mainly because I wanted to have sex with a guy I'd fancied for some time. It took some persuasion for my husband to agree, and a young twenty year old called Ashleigh when we finally attended, to have him let me have my way.

In front of lots of people, where some were themselves in the throws of some form of sex or another, I had the host of the party fuck me on his couch as my husband stood by. The sex I had with the host was a total let down as he came within five minutes leaving me very sexually frustrated. And even though his cock was replaced by a guy who was a lot larger, it wasn't the same when I looked round to see my husband had disappeared.

About half an hour later still not knowing where my husband was, I climbed the stairs to clean myself up and noticed sexual sounds coming from a bedroom. Peering inside I saw my husband fucking the young girl Ashleigh and they were having a great time. Even though I didn't want to, I stood and watched for some time and could hear Ashleigh telling my husband how good a fuck he was. I then heard him tell her, she was far more adventurous than me, and have a much nicer pussy to fuck.

What he said really hurt, but I knew it was my idea for us to attend the party and fuck other people, so I walked away and cleaned up. An hour later they surfaced and I watched her going down on my husband in the kitchen. Turning a little to look at me, he stood her up, got her to put her right leg up on the work top and after putting a rubber on, he buried his cock up her pussy again. They fucked like that until she came hard on his dick, and then my husband filled the condom deep inside her body.

Two weeks after the party my husband moved out, telling me if I wanted to fuck other men, then I was now free to do so. What I didn't know, he rented a place and moved Ashleigh into it with him.

It's been four months now since the party and I miss my husband dreadfully. I know he and his young girlfriend are happy together because I see them all the time, as where I work is literally across the street from where they now live.
And each time I see them holding hands or kissing passionately, it hurts me inside so badly I'm sometimes sick. I just wish I hadn't been so stupid to have thought everything would be ok, and so idiotic to think he'd just take it that I'd be fucking other men.