A faithful husband working abroad for six months suffers a cruel
injury. On his return home, he learns that a combination of his debility
and the resultant medication will prevent him from sexually satisfying
his equally faithful wife for several months. His inability to perform
soon fuels his long-standing fantasies about his wife not being so
faithful. His frustrated wife slowly fulfills his wildest fantasies
whilst gratifying her own needful cravings. On his recovery he discovers
a small problem, and his wife suggests an unusual solution that may
extend his fantasies further than he ever expected…
I have always hated hospitals. Loathed them, in fact; the clinical
aromas, the sterile feel, the gloomy atmosphere, the poker-faced staff.
I would have given anything to be miles away from the damned place.
As of this moment, however, I had little choice in the matter. I was
ensconced in one of the consulting rooms in the labyrinthine hospital
complex, lying on an examination table with my genitals exposed like a
horizontal flasher. The pale blue hospital gown that I wore – those
hideous goddamned things that expose your ass to all and sundry – was
bunched around my waist like a hula skirt.
I looked down at the semi-bald pate of the specialist bending over to
examine me and I stifled a soft curse. What was his name again? Rogers.
That was it. Dr. Rogers. No – Mister Rogers, I reminded myself.
Specialists didn’t like being referred to as Doctor.
I felt my pulse quicken. Fucking quacks; I’d had enough of them in the
last six days. I was not in a good mood.
Mr. Rogers gently lowered my penis and nodded sagely at my crotch, as if
my cock had just uttered some nugget of medical wisdom that only he was
“Whoever did the operation in Vietnam did excellent work,” he said. “The
stitching is very good indeed. Really top-class.”
An irrational flush of annoyance furrowed my brow as I realised that he
was addressing his remarks to my cock, and not to my face; I suddenly
knew how women felt when they complained about how some men talked to
“I think the surgeon’s name was Dr. Sew Mai Kok – something like that.”
I replied dryly.
He either missed or ignored the sarcasm in my voice. “Well, it really is
excellent work,” he assured me again, as if I should likewise be
impressed. He straightened and removed his latex gloves, and grandly
gestured to a vinyl chair in front of his desk in a manner that
suggested he had conjured the chair into existence. I assumed that he
wanted me to sit in it. I lowered myself gingerly from the examination
table, rearranged the irritating hospital gown, and grumpily seated
myself in the proffered chair.
Mr. Rogers was a strange looking critter; he was exceedingly tall and
angular and thin as a reed, but his head was discordantly round and flat
as a pie plate. Looking at his thin body and large, rotund head, I
suddenly thought how apt it was that he greatly resembled the dicks that
he treated. The thought made me grin waspishly, and I wondered if any of
his other patients had made the same observation. He strode purposefully
around to his side of the desk and sank into his leather chair like a
felled giraffe. His leather chair whooshed as air rushed out of it.
He peered at me over his desk as if he were surprised to see me there.
He pressed his fingertips together and rested his index fingers under
his chin, as only medicos seemed to do. “How on earth did it happen?” he
I sighed and briefly closed my eyes; everyone wanted to know how it
happened. It occurred to me that if it had been a two-inch cut in my
arm, or my leg, or even my face, then people wouldn’t really care how it
happened. But get a deep two-inch slash in your dick, and suddenly every
bastard wants to know the grisly details. Fucking ghouls, all of them –
like people slowing down to stare greedily at a car accident, wanting to
absorb every morbid detail.
I raised my eyelids and slowly focused on Mr. Roger’s round face
hovering over his desk like a moon looming over the horizon. Maybe he
wanted to chronicle this one and submit it to the Lancet, I thought
I decided to give him the long version. I gritted my teeth and began:
“Just over five months ago I was contracted to work as the chief
supervisor on a construction job in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as
Saigon, building a new multi-storey shopping center. It was a six-month
contract, working six days a week. I didn’t really want the job, since
it would mean I’d be away from my wife and home for half a year – but
the money they offered was too good to refuse. There’s a boom in
building there right now, and they’re offering top dollar for guys with
my experience in the industry.
“Anyway – last Friday four of the company big shots fronted up, wanting
to check out progress on the job. There wasn’t anything new for them to
see, but what the hell – they paid my salary, so I started showing them
around. We went up to the first floor. You have to understand that since
it was a commercial building and not a residential one, the first floor
was a lot higher than normal – maybe twenty-five feet off the ground.
“There was a section up there that was still accessible only by
scaffold, and we started to cross it. Whether the scaffold rigging was
faulty, or the bolts snapped, or whether the weight of five men was too
much for one weak section to bear, I don’t know. But as we crossed it,
something broke – the scaffold gave way at one end, right under our feet.
“It all happened so fast – one minute I was just walking, and the next
minute I was falling. My first reaction was to grab one of the steel
uprights, the round supports that held the scaffolding up – but I could
only get my right hand around the tubing, since I was holding a
clipboard in my other hand and I didn’t think to drop it in time.
Grabbing hold of the support with my right hand swung my body outwards
slightly, but with the downward momentum that I already had I couldn’t
slow myself up with one hand – not around the smooth steel. All it did
was slow my fall a little, but I still slid down the pole – fast.
“It just so happened that there was a sign bolted to the scaffold
bracing under me, and it overlapped the support that I was sliding down
by a few inches. The sign was made from cheap tin sheeting, and as you
can obviously guess, the corner of the tin hadn’t been rounded off,
and it was extremely thin and sharp. Under normal circumstances, this
didn’t matter; the sign was eight feet above the ground, and nobody was
going to hit their head on it that high up – even if they were wearing a
safety helmet. What they didn’t think of was someone coming down the
pole, like I was doing.
“My crotch collided with the sharp edge of the overhanging tin. All I
felt at the time was a painful sting and then a jolt that basically
halted my descent and pushed me backwards, and I lost my grip on the
support. I fell the last six or seven feet or so to the ground and
landed on my back, knocking the wind out of me. I looked up the see two
of the company guys hanging from the edge of the scaffold, yelling and
scrambling to get back up. The other two guys had fallen like I had, and
they had landed beside me and one of them – the one who ended up with a
broken pelvis – was screaming. I raised my head to look at him – and
that’s when I saw the blood on my thigh. My blood.”
I paused my account, remembering the hot burning that had started then.
I had reached down to my crotch and felt the ripped material of my
trousers, and when I looked at my fingers they were slick with blood.
Then the pain suddenly tore through me, and I realised that I was
The next two hours or so was now a blur of agony and shock and dread.
Luckily the hospital was close by, and I remembered how the ambulance
siren had wailed. I was eventually sent to the operating theatre for
After I awoke from the anaesthetic, the bespectacled surgeon had
appeared at my bedside. In reasonable English he’d explained what had
happened; as I slid down the steel pole, the sharp corner of the tin
sign had effortlessly slashed through my trousers and underwear. It had
grazed my scrotum, luckily pushing it backwards out of the way. My luck,
however, was short-lived, and the sharp metal corner then pierced the
underside of my penis, near the root and slightly to one side,
half-slicing and half-ripping nearly three-quarters of the way through
as I continued sliding down the steel support. The jolt that curtailed
my rapid descent and threw me backwards was my steel belt buckle
catching the upper edge of the tin sign. The surgeon said that I was
fortunate – if I hadn’t been wearing the belt, then not only would my
fall have been heavier, but the sharp metal might have continued upward,
cleaving my glans in two, and carrying on to tear me open from crotch to
throat. What a happy thought. Just marvelous.
A total of eighteen stitches had closed the two-inch slice in my cock,
as well as some internal stitching. Painkillers took the edge off the
I had spent the next three days in hospital for observation. A somber
delegation of company officials duly paid me a visit, informing me that
a flight back to Australia had been arranged at my convenience. As far
as I was concerned, it was convenient for me to leave immediately, and I
told them to arrange a flight ASAP. I wanted to go home. I gingerly
boarded a flight from Tan Son Nhut airport the next day, my crotch
swathed in bandaging under my loose trousers. My frantic wife Angela had
met me at Tullamarine airport in Melbourne.
Mr. Rogers shook his head and tutted. “Very nasty,” he intoned
tonelessly. “I assume that you will seek legal recourse for this injury?”
“You bet I will,” I replied. I had made a preliminary phone call to a
law firm yesterday, and they were already rubbing their greedy little
hands together in anticipation of the settlement they could demand if I
wasn’t satisfied with the offer of compensation that the company was
sure to offer me.
Mr. Rogers nodded curtly. He became suddenly businesslike. “Now for your
prognosis. Well, the urethra hasn’t been severed, as you are probably
aware. Missed it by a fraction, but it’s perfectly intact – so that’s
excellent news. There also appears to be no nerve damage, and the
underside of your glans was only just nicked. You will also be pleased
to hear that we expect you will make a full recovery in time. It’s a
very nasty injury, but it will heal just fine.”
I let out a soft breath. Thank Christ!
“Now for some new that isn’t so good,” he began. “Wounds of this
severity are obviously serious no matter where they are on the body. But
a deep incision in the penis has added complications. You are probably
aware that the penis is unique in the manner in which it can change size
and shape, from flaccid to erect, and vice-versa.”
I nodded firmly.
Mr. Rogers continued: “The stitches that are holding the tissues
together need time to allow healing to begin. In the worst case
scenario, an erection can cause enough swelling to rip the stitches out
completely, and even at best an erection can put undue strain on the
stitches and interfere with the healing process by causing movement that
breaks the first tenuous bonding of the tissues. Naturally you won’t be
able to engage in sexual activity for a considerable time anyway, but
involuntary erections can occur at other times, as we all know –
especially at night while you’re sleeping.”
I nodded again, a little less enthusiastically this time. In fact, I
did remember laying in the hospital bed and at one point wondering
what would happen to the stitches if I happened to get a hard on. A
gruesome vision of my cock slowly peeling apart and bursting like an
overcooked cocktail frankfurt had made my testicles shrivel.
Mr. Rogers spoke on. “So until your penis is well on the way to a full
recovery, it’s important that we prevent any erections that you might
have – nocturnal and otherwise.”
“How is that possible?” I asked. Mr. Rogers reached into a drawer and
retrieved a plastic-coated diagram showing a cross-section of the male
reproductive organs. He placed it on the desktop and spun it around so I
could clearly see it. The picture had enough detail to frighten small
Mr. Rogers used his silver pen as a pointer. “These muscles here control
a kind of valve which holds blood in the spongy tissues of the penis.
This is what causes an erection. You have probably heard of Viagra,
which helps to contract these muscles in men with erectile problems.”
“I know about Viagra,” I told him. “I think everyone knows what it’s for.”
He gave a curt nod and continued. “About ten years ago it was noted that
a certain type of anti-depressant drug had an unexpected side-effect –
it relaxed these muscles instead. It therefore had the opposite effect
of Viagra, hindering and in many cases halting erections altogether. The
anti-depressant was not popular with many men for this reason.”
“I can see why,” I grunted. “They probably had enough to be depressed
about as it was.”
Mr. Rogers uttered a fruity chuckle. “Indeed. Anyway, one bright
American researcher decided to isolate the chemical composition that was
specifically relaxing these muscles. He eventually succeeded, and the
ADA approved the drug early this year. When taken regularly, it causes
temporary impotency. As you may well understand, the need for its
application is rare – but it cases such as yours, it can greatly improve
the chances of rapid healing and a speedy recovery.”
“So if I start taking this medication, I can’t become hard?”
“Exactly. The penis will remain flaccid no matter how much stimulation
is applied. And, in fact, right after your surgery last week your
attending physician there introduced it in tablet form as a
precautionary measure, according to the records that I was sent by the
hospital there – so you’re already taking it.”
I creased my eyebrows. When I was in hospital in Ho Chi Minh City I
simply took the pills proffered by the nurses without asking what the
hell they were – not that many of them could speak English in any event.
I had assumed they were all antibiotics, and I was issued with a
seven-day supply of three different tablets when I left the hospital,
along with instructions on when to take what. Mr. Rogers had already
asked me about that. It explained why I hadn’t gotten an erection
since the accident, I guess.
“I see,” I replied. “So I just keep taking the pills until everything is
healed. How long will that take?”
His smile faded. “Usually in a case such as yours, it will take upwards
of ten to twelve weeks.”
“Twelve weeks?” I gasped.
“Possibly even more,” he replied dolefully. “Your penis has suffered
extensive trauma, and it simply takes time to heal. Much will depend on
everything going smoothly, and this doesn’t always happen. It’s not
uncommon for injuries of this nature to take as long as sixteen weeks to
That sat me on my ass. Sixteen fucking weeks! Or, more accurately,
sixteen weeks without fucking! I slumped in the chair. While I was
working in Vietnam, many of my colleagues had regularly used the cheap
and easily available whores that infested the area around our tacky
hotel – but I never did. I had been faithful to Angela. I performed a
quick calculation; I had already spent five and a half months celibate –
and now possibly another four months on top of that. Over nine months
without sex! I stifled another groan.
Mr. Rogers gazed sympathetically at me, and he read my thoughts. “But
after you are healed, you should be as good as new, sexually and
otherwise.” he informed me cheerfully. “Of course, we’ll have to assume
that scar tissue won’t become a factor.”
“A factor in what?” I asked sharply. A sudden chill went through my
Mr. Rogers cleared his throat. “Well, in some cases scar tissue can
cause the erect penis to develop a slight curve on the side that the
scar is located on. This is because some elasticity can be lost when
scarring occurs. In your case, since the incision was on the underside,
you may develop a slight downward curve. And you may lose a little
length when you are fully erect, as well.”
My mouth drooped open; more great fucking news. “How much length?” I asked.
“Oh, possibly no more than half an inch or so. Negligible, really.”
Negligible. That was easy for him to say – it wasn’t his cock we
were discussing. I glared stonily at him over his desk. I guess I was
average size in the dick department, but I wasn’t exactly John Holmes,
either – like any man, I wanted all the length I could get.
“But that’s all in the future,” he added. “And for the nonce, we’ll be
optimistic and hope that these factors won’t affect you at all.”
I heaved a heavy sigh. “Very well.”
The remainder of the consultation involved him telling me the various
medications I needed to take, and strong advice to keep my penis clean
and dry and to change the dressing regularly, to refrain from
intercourse (as if I needed to be told that – the berk!), to take
care showering, to avoid strenuous exercise, etc. He was typing on a
keyboard as he spoke, and soon an inkjet printer on the desk whined and
ejected several sheets of paper like flat white tongues.
“I’ll get you to come back and see me next Thursday at ten o’clock,” he
concluded. “I’ll also contact your local GP – a Dr. Douglas, I believe –
and inform him of your situation. If you notice anything untoward, then
go and see him immediately.”
He handed me the sheets of paper he had just printed. They were
prescriptions. “Get these filled, and when you’ve finished the course of
medication they issued you in Ho Chi Minh City, just switch over to the
new batch and follow the instructions for dosage. Use the painkiller as
needed, but don’t exceed the maximum dose of eight pills per day. I’ll
get a nurse to redress the bandages for you, and then you can be on your
way. See you next week at ten.” He must have already pressed a button on
his intercom, because a nurse entered the room as if summoned by magic.
Mr. Rogers made his requirements known to her, and she led me back to
the room where I had first changed into the hospital gown.
Ten minutes later, with my bruised and sewn member re-swathed, I slowly
made my way back out to the reception area. Angela arose and walked over
“How did it go?” she anxiously asked.
“I’ll tell you all about it in the car, hun” I said somberly. “Let’s get
out of here.”
As we strode under a large sign that read ‘EXIT’, I was suddenly
reminded of the tin sign that had done me so much damage six days ago. I
had seen the sign bolted to the scaffold support dozens of times in the
last few months. It had been emblazoned with a caricature of a man from
the neck upwards, pointing to his safety helmet, and the ironic words
underneath had read:
Angela drove as we made our way onto the Monash freeway. At this time of
day, the traffic was relatively light. It was early spring, and the sun
beamed with the promise of a hot summer.
The first thing I told Angela was that I was going to be fine. The
relief was clearly visible on her face. I then explained exactly what
the specialist had said, including how long it might take for the wound
to properly heal. I though I saw the corners of her mouth droop slightly
when I mentioned it may take sixteen weeks; she had been without sex for
nearly six months, as well.
“But everything will be fine after that?” she asked.
“So Moonface told me,” I replied. She gave a quick bark of laughter at
my unkind description of Mr. Roger’s rotund countenance; she had seen
the man when we arrived. I continued: “He said there’s no nerve damage,
and everything seems to be intact. It’s just gonna take time to heal.”
“Thank Christ for that. You were lucky by the sounds of it, Michael.”
I also mentioned the medication that would keep me flaccid, and the
reason for using it. Angela worked as a highly successful sales
executive for a major pharmaceutical company, and this engaged her
“I vaguely recall reading a memo about that drug,” she said when I had
finished. “But I don’t know who’s distributing it.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” I replied. “I have to get the
prescriptions filled, so you’ll see the packet. We can do that when we
get back home.”
She nodded. I swiveled my head to look at her. I had forgotten just how
gorgeous my wife was, and just how proud I was to be her husband. At
thirty-two years of age, Angela was seven years younger than I was. She
had wavy, shoulder-length blonde hair that framed a pretty, square-jawed
face. I was always reminded of Farrah Fawcett’s jawline when I looked at
her – but the similarity ended there; Angela’s mouth was broader, and
her cheekbones were wider, and her eyes were deep green. When she
smiled, her whole face lit up.
She stood about five feet, nine inches tall, and diligent workouts on
our home gym and regular exercise had given her a body that women ten
years younger would have envied. She worked hard to maintain her body,
and she was justly proud of her efforts. Her long legs were probably her
best feature; they were perfectly shaped and well proportioned, with
tight calf muscles and lean, slender thighs. When she wore a mini-skirt
she had no shortage of appreciative male glances. She had a flat stomach
and a tapered waist that flared out into broad, curvaceous hips, and an
ass that was practically edible. Her firm breasts were of average size,
but had that delicious cantilevered shape that could take a man’s breath
away. She once told me that her measurements were exactly 36-24-36 – and
I could easily believe it. When she wore a tight dress, her entire body
I often wondered how much her success as a sales executive was helped by
how good she looked in a snug skirt. This was perhaps sexist and unfair
of me; she was extremely good at her job, but her feminine charms were
amply evident even when dressed in her relatively tame work attire. I
would have bet they would have enticed more than one pharmacist to
purchase the products she proffered. They would have enticed me.
It was the second marriage for us both; I had divorced my first wife
five years ago, and Angela’s first husband, an up-and-coming barrister,
had died in a car accident at around the same time.
“But our marriage was already dead,” Angela once told me. “If Carl
hadn’t had the accident, we would’ve been divorced soon after anyway. I
already had the papers drawn up.”
She explained that Carl had been fond of other women. He’d started
having affairs soon after they were married, and Angela had at first
been forgiving, accepting his promises to stop his dalliances. But he
didn’t stop. Angela’s love for him slowly died, and her smoldering rage
slowly grew with each lie that he told her.
“So in the end I had a couple of affairs myself,” she told me “I know
two wrongs don’t make a right, but at the time maybe I just wanted him
to see how it felt. Or maybe I just needed the sex – because I sure as
hell wasn’t getting a lot from Carl.”
I had raised my eyebrows at that: Angela was, as I have stated, an
extremely attractive lady. I had delicately asked why she and her
husband had not made love more.
Angela had laughed bitterly: “Because I wouldn’t let him fuck me up the
Her reply had startled me. She explained further: “Carl had a major kink
for anal sex, you see. He’d pestered me about it for years, ever since
we got married. Back in those days, it just wasn’t for me, and we had so
many arguments over it. The more I resisted, the more he tried to
persuade me. He became more and more obsessed with it, and he would buy
magazines and videos and DVD’s – all featuring anal sex. He once even
deliberately tried to get me almost blind drunk by spiking my drinks so
he could talk me into it. I have a good idea that if I’d passed out, he
would’ve done it to me while I was unconscious.
“The next morning I told him he needed professional help – and of course
that didn’t go down too well. So, since I wouldn’t give him anal sex, he
stopped wanting vaginal sex with me – which told me a lot about how he
really felt for me and our marriage. It was incredibly hurtful, and it
was probably the last nail in the coffin. Anyway, his slutty little
secretary must’ve been more accommodating, since she was the last little
trollop he was involved with. Maybe she thought that if she gave up her
ass, then she’d get a promotion, or Carl would even leave me for her –
she was such an airhead that she would’ve believed that. But I bet there
were a few mornings when she couldn’t sit straight on her fucking office
I had heard similar stories in the past; whilst I wasn’t into anal sex
and had never suggested it to Angela, I certainly didn’t begrudge those
men and women who did enjoy it. But to allow disagreements about it to
corrode your relationship to the point of dissolving was insane.
The final irony was that on the night a drunk driver ploughed into the
side of his car and killed him, Carl was on his way back from a tryst
with his secretary. He had told Angela he was working late – but the
accident occurred just two blocks from his secretary’s house on the
other side of town.
“If he hadn’t always been thinking with his dick, he’d still be alive
today. Probably divorced – but alive.” Angela had dryly stated.
I had met Angela about six months after my own divorce. Some buddies of
mine had invited me to join their regular Wednesday night bowling team,
and apparently some of Angela’s friends had inveigled her to do the
same. The first time I saw her at the bowling alley, she was wearing a
red dress that hugged every curve of her body. When she sent a ball down
the laneway, I’m sure that every male eye in visual range was glued to
her gorgeous ass pulling the material of her dress tautly across her
behind. It wasn’t exactly a come-fuck-me dress – but it was certainly
dropping some heavy hints.
I took instant note of the hints, and by chance the next Wednesday night
my team was drawn to bowl against hers. I flirted with her, and after
learning that she was single I asked her out to dinner, and she accepted
my invitation. To cut a long story short, we became a couple, fell
deeply in love, and got married two years later.
I found Angela to be a very sensual lady, and her enthusiasm and
inventiveness in bed was a pleasant and very welcome surprise after my
passionless first marriage. She was one of those women who exuded an
almost understated sexuality, as though she kept her passions in check
by exerting only sufficient restraint; you sensed that behind her veneer
of propriety there lurked a fervent libido. To say that she had animal
magnetism was an apt description. I could see flashes of this in her
spontaneous knack for bringing out the eroticism in normally mundane
For example, we once went to a restaurant with two other couples. Angela
had slipped her shoes off under the table, and I suddenly felt the toes
of her left foot slip up under the cuff of my trousers. I turned my head
towards her, and she sent me a soft, teasing smile before returning her
attention back to the conversation at the table.
All through the main course her toes had slid sensually up and down my
instep. Angela was well aware that this turned me on. As she ate, she
carried on conversing and laughing with the other guests as though
nothing was happening under the table. When the main course was
finished, she leaned over and whispered in my ear: “I need to use the
bathroom in a few minutes. So do you. Follow me when I go.”
I gave her a perplexed nod. Several minutes later, she excused herself
and arose from the table. I also bemusedly excused myself as she had
instructed, and followed her into the dim hallway where the toilets were
located. The women’s toilet was unoccupied (I found out later that
Angela knew it was empty, since she had been watching the hallway
entrance). She took my hand and quickly drew me inside and locked the door.
Without another word, she sat down on the toilet seat, unzipped me, and
– despite my initial (and feeble) protests – she proceeded to give me a
blowjob as I stood trembling in front of her. She is extremely good at
this particular sexual act, and in less than two minutes I was
struggling to remain on my feet and stifling my moans of pleasure as I
exploded in her mouth. She winked up at me as she swallowed every drop
of my cream.
She then re-zipped me, and checked that the hallway was clear, and with
a soft giggle of finality she quickly ushered me out. I dazedly crossed
to the male toilet, also fortunately unoccupied, and then shakily made
my way back to our table, the warm afterglow of climax making my legs
wobbly. Angela returned a few minutes later, and as she began breezily
chatting with our fellow diners I admired her aplomb. A waiter shortly
materialised to take dessert orders. As I raised my glass to my lips,
Angela looked at me with the slightest of smiles and demurely announced:
“I think I’ll get the vanilla pudding. I really fancy something warm and
creamy after gobbling all that meat just now.”
I had nearly spat a mouthful of wine all over the table. To make matters
worse, a woman seated to her left peered over her menu and whinnied:
“Mmm, that sounds yummy! I think I’ll have that, too.”
Angela had rolled right along: “It’s delicious! Michael often gives it
to me for dessert,” She turned her radiant face toward me. “You serve
yours with nuts, don’t you, honey?” Her eyes twinkled, and I had been
lucky to quell the hysterical giggled that fluttered in my stomach.
On another occasion, we went shopping in the local mall one Saturday
morning. Just after we had arrived, we strolled into a women’s clothing
store so Angela could look for a new skirt. She found one to her liking
– a slinky black number – and she went into the shop change room to try
it on. She modeled it for me, and after getting my approval for it, she
decided to buy it and wear it immediately. Just after we left the shop,
she smiled impishly and reached into her jacket, and passed me a wadded
ball of black material. It took me a few seconds to realise it was her
“Put those in your pocket for me please, babe,” she quietly told me. My
eyes must have widened, because she laughed softly and leaned forward to
whisper: “That’s right, honey. I’m not wearing anything under my new
For the next two hours we strolled around the mall, and she would make
oblique references to the fact that she was naked under her new
purchase. I am not sure if this type of fetish turns all men on, but it
sure as hell turned me on. Angela could see the effect it was having
on me, and that just made her sly remarks about it all the more blatant.
As we sat drinking coffee in one of the cafes inside the mall, she
whispered in my ear: “Just think – if it wasn’t for all these people
here, you could slide you hand up my thighs and feel just how wet I am
for you, honey.” She had pronounced it in a slow, sexy drawl –
whettttt. My coffee cup had rattled sharply against the saucer when I
put it down.
The moment we arrived back home, I practically dragged her into the
bedroom, and within a minute we were making passionate love.
After, as we lay spent and panting in afterglow, she asked me how much
it had turned me on knowing she was walking around with no panties under
her skirt. I answered honestly, and I told her it made me very hot –
which she already knew.
She propped herself up on her elbow and rested her head on her hand.
“Why does it turn you on?” she asked.
I thought for a few seconds. “To know you’re naked underneath just makes
me hot, I guess. Especially out in public with other guys around.”
Her eyes twinkled in sudden comprehension. “Ahh,” she said. “I guess it
would remind you of that little fantasy.”
I smiled softly and nodded. That little fantasy, as she referred to
it, was a kink I had developed in my early twenties – a voyeuristic
craving to watch my partner have sex with another man. Angela, who did a
lot of reading and surfed the Internet regularly, had once told me that
it was commonly known as a cuckold fantasy.
During my brief and dispassionate previous marriage, I had never even
mentioned this fantasy to my first wife. She hadn’t been the sort in
whom you would confide anything that smacked of sexual deviance –
otherwise it was likely to be thrown into your face during the next
argument. I had learned this the hard way.
Angela, however, was completely different; she had an openness that was
totally refreshing. She loved to explore the steamier boundaries of
sexuality, and discussing fantasies during pillowtalk was a favorite
post-coital pastime of hers. I came to trust her completely, and I told
her things that I had never told another living soul – my cuckold
fantasy being one of them.
When I first, and somewhat shyly, told her about this little kink, I was
slightly fearful of her reaction; would she be shocked? Outraged?
Disgusted? To my relief, she had simply raised an eyebrow, and told me
that she had read that it was a very common fantasy for a lot of men,
and that it didn’t upset her at all. She stated that it was one fantasy
that we would probably never act out for real, but she added that she
would make use of the fact that it aroused me.
That was another thing; it had been difficult to imagine my shrewish
former wife with a lover; her frigid nature and indifferent attitude
towards sex had somewhat dampened the erotic appeal of the fantasy. By
contrast, Angela’s sensual personality and alluring body made it all too
easy for me to imagine her ardently coupling with another man. In fact,
Angela’s latent eroticism combined with the fact that her job brought
her into contact with many different men on a daily basis had made this
fantasy blossom like a weed in fertile soil; I found myself thinking
about it more and more.
In fact, the next Friday night after I had confessed my little kink to
her, I arrived home from work first. Angela came home about twenty
minutes later, and I could immediately tell that she was feeling frisky.
She kissed me passionately as soon as she walked in the door. She was a
great kisser, and her soft lips and warm, moist tongue soon had me
hardening in my jeans. She guided my hand up her skirt, and when my
fingers slid up her smooth thigh to her pussy I drew a sharp breath;
once again she wasn’t wearing panties. She broke our kiss.
“Oh!” she drawled softly. “I must have left them in the motel room –
after I was with my lover.”
If I had been totally hard at that moment, I swear I would have nearly
creamed my jeans.
Within two minutes we were naked in the bedroom. I shook as I mounted
her. She gasped softly as I slid into her, and she wrapped her legs
around my hips as they began pumping. Her eyes glittered as she looked
up at me.
“Mmm, fuck me baby,” she urged softly. “Give it to me. And as you fuck
me, think about where I left my panties!”
I had always prided myself on being able to last for at least ten
minutes or longer when we made love. But upon hearing these teasing,
carnal words from her, the unthinkable happened; orgasm suddenly boiled
up inside me like an overheated radiator that suddenly had its cap
removed. A few seconds later I moaned loudly and exploded inside her. I
had not climaxed so rapidly since I was a teenager – if even then.
I dazedly collapsed onto her, shaking and panting. She sighed warmly
under me and wrapped her arms around my back.
“Mmm, you came so fast, baby!” she said quietly. “I haven’t ever seen
you cum so quick.”
I gasped that I hadn’t seen myself cum so quick, either.
She chuckled softly. “Mmm! It’s a good thing that my panties are in my
handbag then, hmm?”
From that moment on, Angela started employing this form of tease on a
regular basis. Naturally it didn’t become the sole focus of our sex
life, but she quickly realised that she could use this kink to instantly
heighten my desire and arousal. Over the next few months she used
numerous ploys to discover what new buttons she could create using this
fantasy, and she had no hesitation in pushing them – hard. The
intensity varied, depending upon the circumstances – from teasingly
subtle to blatantly pornographic.
For example, one subtle change involved her work attire; she naturally
dressed as her executive position dictated – usually a plain skirt with
a hemline a respectable two or three inches above the knee, pantyhose, a
modest blouse and business jacket. The underwear that she usually wore
was correspondingly tame and sensible. One morning she called me into
the bedroom just as she began dressing for work. Instead of finding her
in her usual staid undergarments and pantyhose, I was stunned to see
that she had dressed in a sheer set of matching black bra and panties,
and as a finishing touch she had donned a black suspender belt and
stockings. She naturally saw my expression of surprise, and she smiled
mischievously: “I just thought this might give you something to think
about all day, honey,” she told me.
And think about it I did. At work my mind often played with images of
Angela talking business with a male client, knowing that underneath her
staid attire she was encased in skimpy lingerie and stockings. After
Angela got home that evening I was naturally frisky, just as she had
planned. She teased me for a while – making small-talk, but sitting with
her delicious legs entwined and contriving it so that her skirt rode up,
exposing the tops of her stockings. She finally deigned to notice my
excited glances at her nylon-encased legs.
“Like what you see, honey?” she asked. Of course, I nodded, and she
demurely added: “I’m sure a few other men might have had a good, long
look today, as well. So, are you just going sit there and drool at me
all night – or are you going to take me into that bedroom and fuck me?”
Naturally, I chose the latter option.
She didn’t wear lingerie under her weekday attire a lot – but just often
enough to make the tactic extremely effective.
On the more blatant side, she would occasionally launch into a wickedly
salacious narrative as we made love. For example, she would start by
telling me that one of her major clients had been indecisive about a
large purchase, but that he had suggested he would sign the contract in
Angela offered him an extra incentive. The ‘incentive’ was, of course,
sex – and Angela would then tell me that he was such a hunk that she
had eagerly agreed, and that the pair of them had then gone to a motel
and spent the afternoon fucking. Angela would pitch her sweet, sultry
voice so that her lewd story had a tone of almost apologetic but
unabashed glee – like she was aware she had done something extremely
‘naughty’, but that she had been unable to stop herself from relishing it.
She had dozens of variations on this theme, and naturally these
deliciously wicked stories would drive me absolutely insane with
excitement. I am sure that Angela sometimes did it just to see how fast
she could make me explode, and at other times she would teasingly start
and stop her lurid tale, halting me on the brink numerous times before
winding me up yet again until I was a shaking, trembling wreck. With
each story she told she learned something more about what turned my
crank, and even I was surprised at the lascivious and carnal thoughts
and desires that she was able to uncover in the murky depths of my
sexual psyche. It was like riding on an erotic roller coaster, with each
new crest offering a new thrill, and Angela not only rode it with me,
but she kept cranking up the speed.
She did, however, ensure that I was aware that her titillating stories
were just figments of her imagination. After one torrid lovemaking
session in which she had alluded to a phantom lover with more kinky zeal
than usual, she may have felt that I needed reassurance. We were laying
naked in bed during the early evening, and we had been making soft,
post-coital conversation for twenty minutes or so. She was curled up
next to me with her head resting on my chest, softly running her nails
over my stomach.
“When I tell you those things about another guy, you know I’m only
teasing you, right, honey?” she had asked.
“Yeah, I know that, babe,” I relied. “It works, by the way.”
She chuckled softly. “Oh, I know it does! But I just wanted you to
know that I would never sleep around behind your back. After having
Carl do it to me so many times, I know how much damage it can do and how
much it hurts, and I love you too much to ever risk letting that happen.”
I kissed the top of her head. “I know that, too. Thank you. And ditto.”
“So just know that when I tell you the wicked little stories that I do,
it’s just done to excite you. If we ever did take that fantasy to the
ultimate level, we’d talk about it first – a lot. I would never just
go and sleep with someone else.”
This was the first time I had ever heard her mention the possibility of
her cuckolding me for real. A tingle of excitement rippled through me,
and I felt my cock twitch. “Do you think we ever will take it to the
ultimate level?” I tentatively asked her.
She tilted her face up at me and smiled softly. “Not right now, honey,
but in the future? You never know. It’s a very, very big step to take,
and once you open the box, it can’t be shut again. I would need to be
totally sure it’s what you wanted. If I ever did decide to bring it to
life for you, it would just be to drive you absolutely insane,” Her
smile and her tone took on a teasing edge. “And maybe for me to have a
Her last statement sent another erotic ripple through me. “You would
enjoy doing it?” I asked. My cock began to harden.
“If I knew that it was driving you out of your mind with arousal and
lust? Then sure I would. If I found a guy who I really fancied, and
knowing what it would do to you, then sure I’d enjoy it.” She glanced
down to see that my cock had arisen to almost half-mast. She turned her
face upward to me again. “Is that turning you on, honey? Imagining me
not only really doing it, but enjoying it as another guy fucks me?”
“Yes,” I answered softly.
Angela smiled softly again. She slid her hand down and wrapped her
fingers around my growing member. She began firmly stroking me, and I
quickly became totally hard.
She pressed her face close to mine, and kissed me. “Well, maybe one day
if the circumstances were right, I would do it – but we would discuss
it a lot first, honey. It’s not on my ‘to do’ list right now, but let’s
just say that one day it might be.”
She released my cock and arose to her knees and swung her right leg over
my stomach, straddling me. She reached down and grasped my hard shaft
again, her thighs warm and soft against my hips. She guided the head of
my cock between her pussy lips and grinned down at me: “There is one
thing on my ‘to do’ list that I need to do right now, though – and
that’s for me to fuck you.”
She slowly sank down, and my cock gratefully slid into her moist heat.
She carried out her pledge – and the bedroom was soon ringing to our
combined grunts and moans of pleasure as we made love for the second
time that night.
Her disclosure about being at least open to the possibility of
cuckolding me in the future had naturally increased my excitement. I
knew better than to try and force the issue; Angela was not a lady to be
pushed around by anyone, including me. It wasn’t my style to push
anyway, and Angela was well aware of that. She did, however,
subsequently discuss it with me on several occasions, but only in
hypothetical terms, and to further broaden her own understanding of my
little kink. She once summed it up beautifully: “You know that I
probably won’t sleep with another man, but I haven’t ruled it out
completely – and it drives you wild to know that I could if I
The status quo remained this way until I went to work abroad. Angela
continued to refine her methods of tease and her story-telling skills,
and to be perfect honest I was quite happy with that. As she had stated
– bringing this fantasy to life would be a very large step to take. But
at the same time, I did continue to entertain visions of Angela truly
taking this ultimate plunge, and writhing naked under some hot stud, her
back arching and her long legs slithering over his back as he took her.
When I had reluctantly taken the lucrative six-month contract in
Vietnam, it naturally meant that my wife and I would be apart for half a
year. I was obviously not looking forward to this for several reasons.
One of them was a vague sense of niggling insecurity. Angela had sensed
my fears right away, and she made it very clear that she would remain
faithful whilst I was away working, and once again telling me that she
loved me very deeply. I appreciated her reassurance, and I lightly added
that our time apart could make that little fantasy a lot more intense.
She had smiled softly, and said that if I still wanted to play with it
whist we were apart, then she would make sure that she spun me some
Before I departed, I had purchased a laptop PC and I made sure that I
got broadband access in the crummy hotel room where I was lodged. Angela
had our desktop PC at home, and although we often spoke by telephone,
the bulk of our communication was through email and over IRC and MSN.
This was a cheap and convenient form of contact for us, and we used this
electronic method to chat almost each night after I got back from the site.
One of the reasons that I wasn’t tempted by the local prostitutes in Ho
Chi Minh City – apart from deeply loving my wife and wanting to remain
faithful – was that Angela had learned that text messaging could have
its own delicious erotic nuances. She quickly became adept at composing
erotic emails and turning her writing skills to cybersex. In all modesty
I got quite good at it as well, and many times my lascivious words were
able to make Angela caress herself to climax thousands of miles away; I
wanted to keep my lady as happy as I could.
In turn, she also learned that a written form of my cuckold fantasy
could drive me just as wild as a spoken version. Once again, this wasn’t
an everyday thing, but Angela would spin a different tale involving an
imaginary lover maybe once a week. The combination of being so far apart
and from seeing it in written form actually made her stories more
plausible. Of course, her teasing was just that – teasing. But it had
a scintillating affect on me no matter how many times she played with
variations of this theme.
In fact, on the night before my unfortunate accident she had told me a
titillating story about a colleague inviting her out to dinner a few
days hence, and how she was planning on serving him up a hot, creamy
dessert later that night.
Now – as we coasted along the freeway in brilliant sunshine – I looked
at her pretty face gazing ahead through the windscreen, and I thought
about the possibility of sixteen long weeks without being able to make
love to her, and I sighed heavily. Fate had not been kind in recent
days. I dropped my gaze to her bare left leg; I had forgotten how
gorgeous her legs were.
Suddenly, an unexpected thought popped into my mind – a thought so
darkly lascivious and carnal that I drew a sharp breath. Angela must
have heard my soft gasp, because she turned to face me for a second, and
she slid her hand into mine and smiled softly. The warmth of her touch
flushed the thought back into the dark recesses of my mind.
But I knew that in the coming weeks, and possibly months, the thought
A week later I was once again confronted with the round countenance of
Mr. Rogers as I sat in the consulting room. My swollen and bruised
member had returned to some semblance of normalcy – if one was able to
ignore the seam of sutures on the underside – and Mr. Rogers told me
that he was very pleased with progress.
He asked me if there were any problems – any unusual pain or difficulty
urinating, and so forth. I told him that under the circumstances
everything seemed to be about as good as I could expect, apart from some
“The itching is a good sign,” he said. “It means that the wound is
beginning to heal, and that nerve functions are normal. No problems with
involuntary erections?” he asked.
“No,” I replied dryly. “Or even with voluntary ones.”
He nodded. “The medication should eliminate any problems in that area.”
It apparently did. I had obviously not attempted to stimulate myself to
hardness, but like most men I was occasionally awakened at night by the
need to urinate and the subsequent ‘woody’ that it caused. I had been
aroused from slumber several times in the last week by a need to take a
leak – but there had been no sign whatsoever of the usual accompanying
hard-on. The innocuous little tablets that I was required to take twice
daily seemed to doing their job. Angela had noted that the pills were,
in fact, being distributed by the pharmaceutical company she worked for.
The consultation with Mr. Rogers came to an end, and I was to return
next week to have the stitches removed. I was encased in a lot less
bandaging now – just a light layer that mainly served to keep my
underwear from chaffing against the stitches.
Angela had returned to work on Monday, and today I had driven myself to
my appointment with Mr. Rogers. I grabbed a meal at our local takeaway
shop on the way home, and as I sat munching my fish and chips I took
stock of recent events.
I was currently on paid leave with the company I worked for, and they
had begun to make pleasing overtures about compensation for my injury.
The overtures had become more pleasing still after I had idly told the
squeaky-voiced company spokesman that I would discuss their offer with
my legal counsel. I was further cheered after checking my bank account;
the six-month stint working abroad had added a considerable sum to the
balance – enough, in fact, to finalise the loan on the house. Very soon
Angela and I would own the place – lock, stock and barrel. The thought
made me smile.
Angela and I had bought the place just after we were married. It was a
two storey, four bedroom cedar-clad, located in a leafy bayside suburb.
We wanted a fairly large house because we planned on starting a family
in two or three years. Angela had sold the house that she and Carl had
been paying off, and my ex-wife had bought out my stake in the home that
we had shared. This luckily meant that between us, Angela and I had a
very sizable deposit for our own home, and we’d needed only a modest
A massive garage had originally taken up much of the ground floor of the
house. Soon after we had bought it, Angela had suggested that we
partition off the rear section of the garage so that she could have a
dedicated area for her gym equipment. I thought it was a great idea, as
we had no need for such a cavernous garage anyway, and it would
immediately add value to the property. I had done the renovations
myself, and the new partitioned section was actually so large that we
ended up splitting it into two rooms – a dedicated gym for her Angela’s
treadmill, exercise bike, bench press, and various other instruments of
self-inflicted torture, and a smaller room that we now used as a
guestroom / study.
The home loan was our only remaining debt, and I was looking forward to
strolling into the bank and paying it out in full. With the exception of
my unfortunate accident, things were falling into place very nicely.
For the remainder of the day I watched some TV and did what little
housework that needed doing. As evening approached I prepared dinner for
Angela and myself. When she arrived home she anxiously asked about my
visit to the specialist. I told her that all was as well as could be
expected, and that he was happy with progress. She expressed relief, and
smiled warmly and kissed me.
Her kiss sent a sharp pang of desire through me. While the pills I was
taking to prevent erections did their job effectively, they certainly
didn’t stop the underlying sexual hunger. During the first week after my
accident, my ardor had naturally been dampened. But as I started
mending, my libido gradually began asserting its presence. It had been
two weeks now since I had last climaxed, and I found that I was eyeing
Angela a little more lustfully each day.
I came to think of it as a ‘buzz’ – a constant sexual tension, both
physical and psychological, that never really ceased – it simply varied
in intensity. One thing was certain; it grew a little more each day. I
was startled to discover that my gaze would linger a little longer than
usual if I saw a good-looking lady walking down the street, or if I
happened to see an alluring woman on TV. It had been many years since I
had not climaxed for such a long period, and the consequences were
beginning to show. In essence, I had the same burning desire for sex –
especially after being away from Angela for so long – but I now lacked
the means to do so. I was starting to learn what the term ‘sexual
frustration’ really meant.
Angela, always an intuitive lady, seemed to be mindful of my growing
internal battle with my own libido, and she subtly tried to avoid
arousing me. She would normally sleep naked, or with just a pair of
panties on. I had often told her just how much I loved being able to
feel her bare breasts against my chest, and how the simple fact that she
was naked beside me always turned me on. Since I had arrived home,
however, she had started wearing a light pajama set consisting of a
cotton tee shirt and a matching pair of shorts. When she kissed me now,
her kisses were still warm and loving, but they lacked her usual
passion. She knew that a long, deep, wet kiss could make me hard – and
so she refrained from doing it.
We retired to bed at about 11:00pm. I wore a pair of briefs over my
bandaged member, and Angela was again wearing her pajamas. I slid my arm
around her as we lay together, and a light waft of her perfume drifted
over me. We began to kiss softly, and Angela responded hesitantly but
warmly. I opened my lips, and when her warm, moist tongue slid into my
mouth it was like a delicious electric shock.
Normally I would have begun to harden right at that point, but there was
no stirring in my loins whatsoever. The buzz, however, suddenly
tingled urgently like alarm bell, and an almost tangible vibration began
in the pit of my stomach. I started trembling. I needed to taste her
lips, her skin, her body… I needed to taste her cunt – now!
I slid my hand under her tee shirt and began to caress her breast as our
kiss deepened. Her nipple instantly hardened as I rolled it softly
between my forefinger and thumb. I felt her shudder softly, and she
stifled a moan.
I began to lift her tee shirt, and she broke our kiss.
“Baby?” she whispered huskily. “What about your… your stitches. I
don’t want to make you hard.”
“It’s okay,” I replied. “I won’t get hard, hun. The pills I’m taking
won’t let me.”
“But I can’t please you,” she protested softly.
“That may be true,” I told her in a voice that shook slightly. “But
since when does that mean that I can’t please you? I want to please
you, Angie. I need to please you!”
I had continued lifting her tee shirt during the exchange, and she
suddenly raised her arms so that I could lift it completely off over her
head. At last I gazed upon her magnificent breasts; they were as
gorgeous as I had remembered them to be. I lowered my lips to her
nipple, and she tilted her head back and sighed in pleasure as I sucked
it. I began to kiss and lick every inch of her beautiful tits, slowly
working my way down her body. My lips trailed down to her stomach, and I
relished the taste of her soft, warm skin. I gently hooked my fingers
under the waistband of her shorts and panties and began easing them down
her long legs. Angela was now trembling softly, her right hand resting
gently on back of my neck.
I slid her shorts and panties down to her ankles, and she drew her legs
up so that I could remove them completely. I moved lower on the bed,
maneuvering myself between her thighs. She parted her legs, and I gazed
hungrily at the sight below me; she had opened before me like an exotic
hothouse flower. I lowered my head down to her pubic mound and kissed
it, feeling her neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling my nose and lips.
Angela’s hips rose upwards as my tongue slithered further down, and she
lifted and parted her legs further.
“Oh, Michael,” she breathed. “It’s been so long… so long…”
Her scent filled my nostrils, and I extended my tongue and burrowed it
gently between her pussy lips. Her juices welled up from within, and for
the first time in over six months I tasted her delicious nectar. I drank
greedily, savoring her, sliding my tongue deeper inside to scoop out
more of her warm, creamy essence.
Angela uttered a long, almost painful moan. “Oh, Michael… Lick me…
Please! It’s been so, so long!”
I lifted slightly, locating her clit and softly spiraling my tongue
around it. I glanced up over her mons pubis. Her pretty face was clouded
with pleasure as my tongue teased and tickled her hard button. Her
hooded eyes met mine, and I winked at her and then placed my lips over
her clit and sucked it. Angela’s whole body jolted on the bed.
“Oh, FUCK!” she gasped. “Oooh, Jesus! Do it, Baby! Please! Suck it!”
Her little button seemed to throb joyfully in my mouth, and I slid my
left hand up between her thighs. Her cunt was soft and warm and slick
with her juices as my index and middle fingers slid inside of her. She
moaned and drew her legs back even further. The contractions of her
vaginal muscles gripped my fingers tightly as I suckled her clit, my
tongue rapidly swirling. She was going to cum – and soon.
I deliberately started to make slurping sounds, and added little moans
of my own. This had always driven her wild, and it did so now. I felt
her tense and her thighs started trembling. The fingers of her right
hand slid down through my hair, and she gripped me firmly. I began to
gently finger-fuck her.
“Yes! Oh, Baby, YES!” she implored. “DON’T STOP!”
I didn’t stop. I sucked her clit a little harder, and flattened my
tongue over it, gently rasping and sliding it against that incredible
sensitive part of her. I could feel her whole body tense. I uttered
another sensual moan from the back of my throat, and this pushed her
over the edge. She tightened her grip on my hair, pulling my face harder
onto her cunt.
“Oh, Michael… Oh, MICHAEL!… NOW!… NOW!… FUCK, YES!… I’M GONNA
Her cunt suddenly clenched tightly around my fingers like a vice,
pulsing like a living heart. Her cream erupted from the depths of her
pussy like lava as she climaxed, her legs twitching and jerking as
orgasm flowed through her like a syrupy torrent. I released my suction
on her clit, but kept my tongue gently swirling and dancing around it,
maximising the waves of ecstasy rippling trough her body.
She uttered a final moan, and her whole body slumped, trembling and
twitching. I very gradually slowed my spiraling tongue and eased my
finger from her molten pussy. I slid my tongue down, sinking it deep
inside her, feeling it stirring a molten well of her delicious juices. I
briefly lifted my mouth from her.
“I want to suck you dry,” I whispered huskily. “I want to drink you, to
feel every drop of you sliding down my throat.”
She gazed down into my face with eyes half-closed. “Then do it,” she
Later, after I had eventually surfaced and slid back up to lay alongside
her, she turned and wrapped her arms around me. She gave a satisfied
stretch, like a cat awakening from a long nap.
“Enjoy that, baby?” I softly asked.
She smiled weakly. “Oh, honey, you have no idea – no idea – how good
that was. It’s been so long, baby. So, so, so long. And do you have
any idea of how good you are at doing that?”
I grinned at her. “I ate a lot of tacos while I was away, just to keep
She giggled. “In that case, I think I’ll start serving tacos here more
often.” Her face suddenly showed apprehension. “You’re not hard or
anything, are you?” she asked softly.
“No, hun. Everything’s just fine.” My cock had, in fact, remained
disconcertingly flaccid the whole time I had eaten her.
Her smile slowly returned. “Okay, baby. I was really worried about
making you hard.”
“Is that why you’ve started wearing pajamas?”
A slightly guilty look clouded her face. “Yes. Well, it’s one reason,
anyway. I didn’t want to excite you just in case those pills don’t work.
I know that it’s very important that you don’t get an erection right now.”
“What are the other reasons,” I asked.
She pondered for a few seconds. “I guess I felt it would’ve been
insensitive and cruel of me to sleep naked beside you.”
“Because we can’t make love, you mean?”
“Baby,” I replied. “Just because I can’t make love to you right now or
climax myself, it doesn’t mean I don’t want you to. In fact, it makes
me want to please you even more. I need to please you.”
She seemed to understand the latent message, and she nodded softly. “I
guess I just didn’t want to appear selfish, and I didn’t know if you
wanted to do anything right now. I know it must be so very difficult for
you, especially after being away for so long. What happened to you is so
I smiled ruefully. “Yes – it is. But until it’s all fixed, you know that
I’ve always loved eating your pussy, and the accident hasn’t affected my
tongue, baby.” I playfully licked my lips.
She sent me an impish grin. “So you don’t mind eating a lot of tacos,
I laughed. “The more, the better. You got any hot sauce to go with them?”
“You know I have,” she replied cheekily. “As long as you’re hungry, I’ll
keep serving them up, honey – with as much sauce as you can handle.”
“Yum,” I replied, licking my lips again.
Angela giggled again. “So I can ditch the pajamas?”
“Oh, yeah,” I quickly agreed.
“Good – I hate the goddamned things!”
We spent the next fifteen minutes or so curled up together, softly
talking about this and that. She had remained naked, and I took the
opportunity to drink in the sight of her exquisite body. The buzz in
my loins had strangely subsided slightly, as if Angela’s climax had
somehow soothed my own ardent yearnings. She eventually rolled over and
lit a cigarette from the pack on her bedside dresser. She only ever
smoked in bed after we had sex, and for some weird reason I always found
it incredibly sexy when she smoked naked. This probably wouldn’t have
pleased the anti-smoking lobby, but they had no business interfering in
my sex life, anyway.
Angela blew a thin stream of smoke out through her lips. She noticed my
lustful gaze, and she turned to me and slowly smiled. “After I’ve had
this smoke, I might go and cook something.”
I blinked in sudden confusion. “Eh? Cook? Cook what?”
Her smile turned into a leer as she took another drag on her cigarette
and winked at me. “Tacos.”
A tingle rippled through me. “Why wait ’til you’re finished smoking?” I
Angela’s leer broadened even more. She slowly drew her shapely legs up
and parted them slightly, and her pussy winked invitingly out at me from
the apex of her thighs.
“Good idea, honey. Come and get it, then – you don’t mind if I smoke
while you eat, do you?”
I sure as hell didn’t, and I soon proved it to her.
Another four weeks drifted by.
I’d had the stitches removed from my manhood at my next consultation
with Mr. Rogers, and he announced that he was pleased at how everything
was going. There was still an angry red scar where the incision had
been, but he told me that in time this would lessen. Always the
harbinger of glad tidings, he instructed to keep taking the medication
that kept me flaccid so that everything would continue to heal internally.
I spent most of my time just pottering around the house, or watching TV,
or playing games on the PC. Angela, of course, was working during the
day and she wasn’t due to take her holidays for another six weeks or so,
and I found that my biggest problem was boredom – but I occupied myself
as best I could whilst I was recuperating.
As the weeks had rolled past, the ever-present and frustrating sexual
buzz had asserted itself more and more. The feeling reminded me of
when I was a 15-year-old; I’m sure that most men can remember the time
when hormones first ran rampant in their teenaged bodies, quickly
transforming a usually placid and normal adolescent male into a
seething, panting hulk of pent-up sexual lust. This is how I was
starting to feel – I was constantly frisky, but with the medication
keeping my penis limp there was no real way to gratify my libido. I was
horny, but without the horn with which to do anything about it.
The only thing that I could do to slake the lust was to orally please
Angela. This seemed to act as some kind of vicarious relief valve for
me, and Angela was more than willing – and even eager – to indulge me.
In fact, one day last week she had been working in a neighboring suburb
and she had popped home unexpectedly for lunch. After I had made her a
bite to eat, she had offered me something to snack on – and it
definitely was not anything from the major food groups. Suffice to say
that she had gone back to work that afternoon with a contented smile on
Just over a couple of weeks ago we had been laying cuddled up in bed
after I had pleased her. For some reason my thoughts had turned to adult
toys, and I had offhandedly asked Angela why she hadn’t gotten a dildo
or vibrator whilst I was working abroad.
She pondered for a few seconds. “To be honest, I don’t know. I never
really thought about it. I haven’t ever really used one, and I guess
that I just didn’t need it. Anytime we played on the phone or online, it
was enough for me to just use my fingers, and imagine you were there.”
I nodded, and she continued: “Besides – now that I think about it, it
would’ve been almost an admission of defeat, maybe. You were only going
to be gone six months, for chrissake, and I’d like to think that I could
wait at least that long.” She turned to look at me sharply. “Why do you
ask? Would you have wanted me to use one?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “It’s kind of hot to imagine you using one.”
I now had Angela’s full attention; this was the kind of pillowtalk she
relished. “Ah, really now?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “Would you
like to watch me use one now?”
I nodded slowly. “I think that would be mind-blowing.”
“Would you want to watch me using it on myself, or would you want to
use it on me?”
I could see what she was thinking; in my permanently flaccid state, a
dildo would become a surrogate for my own cock. She was both right and
“Both,” I answered. “I’d love to watch you use it on yourself, but I’d
also love to do it for you, as I licked you.”
Angela smiled softly. “Well, like I said – I’ve never used one, honey.
But there’s always a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
“You want to get one?” I asked in sudden surprise.
“Why not?” she replied. Her face narrowed in thought for a few seconds.
“We have to go to Kerry’s big day this Saturday, don’t we?”
I nodded. Kerry was Angela’s cousin, and she was getting married this
weekend. The venue was nearly an hour’s drive away.
“Well,” Angela continued. “How about we leave early, honey? If I
remember correctly, there’s an adult shop opposite a pharmacy that I
deal with, not far away from the church where the wedding will be. We
can drop in on the way up there if you like?”
The irony of visiting an adult toy store on the way to a wedding wasn’t
lost on me. “Sounds good,” I replied. “Maybe we can grab the blushing
bride a wedding gift for her honeymoon while we’re there?”
Angela laughed. “Knowing Kerry, she’d already have two of whatever we
bought her,” she said cattily; Kerry was not known for either her
virtuous behaviour or her chaste conduct.
We did visit the adult store on the way to the wedding, and both Angela
and I were stunned by some of the products on offer. We found the dildo
and vibrator section – if you could call it that – and after some muted
discussion between us Angela selected a largish realistic-type silicon
On the way to the wedding, we discussed some of the more kinky and
bizarre adult toys that we had seen. Angela shook her head. “You know,
I’m as broadminded as the next person – but Jesus Christ, who the hell
wants to go to bed with a blow-up farm animal?” We had seen rubber
blow-up sheep and pigs for sale in the shop.
I shook my head. “Horses for courses.” I grunted. “Or even horses for
intercourses – there was a blow-up pony for sale, too.”
Angela bellowed with laughter. “Oh, my God! Well, I actually feel very
innocent and staid just buying a dildo, then!”
Because I was still taking medication and also to allow Angela have a
few drinks, I stuck to non-alcoholic beverages during the wedding
reception so that I could drive us home. Angela was still tipsy when we
arrived home, and maybe friskier than usual. We both had a nightcap and
shortly went to bed. Angela had already placed the dildo on her bedside
dresser, and after she had undressed down to her panties she smiled
softly at me as she unwrapped the box.
She eased the fake cock out of its plastic cocoon; it was just over
eight inches long, and I was startled at how closely it resembled the
real thing. With a sudden tingle I realised that it was considerably
larger than I was when erect. Even to see Angela handling it sent a
lascivious shiver up my spine.
Angela slid the two ‘AA’ batteries into the appropriate slot, and she
then rotated the round switch on the base; the dildo responded with an
eager whir. She turned it off and then looked at me.
“You want to watch me use it, honey?” she purred.
I could only nod. I realised I was panting softly as I slid to the end
of the bed so I could observe her more clearly.
Angela smiled, and slowly slid her panties off. She then lay back on the
bed, spreading her thighs. She held the dildo in her hand, her small
palm making the large fake cock look even larger than it was.
She guided the broad head of the dildo down to her pussy lips and gently
worked the fake glans between her labia. I realised that my heart rate
had just skyrocketed. The soft, rubbery head flexed slightly, and then
slowly slithered just inside her lips. Angela closed her eyes and drew
it back out, smearing her pussy lips with her secretions. She then
rolled the head and shaft of the dildo along her slit, moistening the
Angela drew her knees further back, tilting her hips upward. The thick
head of the fake cock was poised just over her juicy pussy, dipping
downward slightly as if it were eager to explore what lay just below.
Angela opened her eyes slightly.
“Watch me, baby.” she whispered.
She grasped the dildo at base, and lowered the glans back to rest
between her pussy lips. She then drew it gently forward, and the shaft
bowed slightly as she applied more force. My heart thumped as I first
watched the thick pink head disappear inside her, soon followed by the
thick silicon shaft – inch by inch. Angela uttered a syrupy moan.
“Mmm, it’s so big, honey,” she breathed.
She paused when there was at least a good six inches inside of her. She
slowly drew it back out, and I could see the shaft glistening with her
juices. Then she slid it back in, even deeper this time. My eyes were
riveted to how her pussy lips seem to almost suck at the silicon
shaft, moving inwards as she inserted it into her, and clinging
desperately when she slid it back out, as if her cunt was reluctant for
it to depart. She slid it home again and uttered a sharp moan, and I
realised that almost the whole eight inches was inside her.
“Does it feel good?” I heard someone utter. I suddenly realised that it
was my voice.
“Mmm, yeah, baby,” Angela murmured. “It’s so fucking big… it’s been
so long since I’ve had anything inside me… Jesus, it’s inside me so
She now began to slowly fuck herself with it, sliding it in and out in a
steady carnal rhythm. Wet slurping sounds began to issue from her pussy
as the large dildo began pistoning into her creamy cleft. I glanced up
to see that her nipples were hardening. A rivulet of her juice suddenly
trickled from the base of her slit, and it ran with almost teasing
slowness down over her puckered rosette. I licked my lips.
All of a sudden I realised that if she ever did cuckold me for real,
then this is how it would look – her long, sexy legs spread wide as
his large, meaty cock slithered deep into her juicy pussy, pumping
inside of her over and over again. His balls would be slapping wetly
against her asshole, becoming coated with her secretions. Her pussy lips
would cling to his cock with just as much relish as they were clinging
to the silicon imitation. I stifled a gasp at the thought.
She suddenly eased her pumping motion, and she reached down with her
other hand to turn the circular switch. A soft buzz emanated from the
dildo, followed immediately by Angela’s sudden gasp of pleasure.
“Oooh, my GOD!” Angela panted. “Fuck, that feels so good!” She quickly
readjusted her grip on the very end of the dildo, and she once more
began rapidly sliding it in and out of her steamy cunt. The slippery
sounds of its urgent passage added to the electric whir.
I had never seen a woman use a vibrator on herself before – and now I
realised what I had been missing. It was one of the most erotic,
sensual and carnal things I had ever seen – so much so that almost of
its own accord my hand drifted down to stroke myself. I actually located
the head of my cock through my briefs before I felt the bandaging. I
forced myself to stop.
Angela was now truly fucking herself. Her back arched and she began to
shake and buck. Her pretty face was clouded with ecstasy as the large
cock repeatedly plunged into her, over and over. Another stream of her
creamy secretions rolled sensually down into the crack of her ass. She
was now panting hard, moaning and shaking. She pulled the shaft upwards
so that the rubber vibrated against her clit.
“Oh, Jesus FUCK!… It’s so fucking BIG!… Aaaahhhh!… AAAAHHHHHH!”
I could see her climax approaching. Her legs began jerking and trembling
in earnest, and I could actually see her cunt firmly squeezing the thick
pink silicon shaft. She arched her back, and her beautiful face tilted
upwards. The buzz of the dildo echoed the buzz in my own loins.
“Oh, Michael! It’s gonna make me CREAM! OH JESUS!… YES!… YES!…
She literally screamed as climax tore through her, holding the large
vibrating rubber cock deep inside her as her body jolted and shook. Her
pussy was clenching the silicon shaft so tightly that the tone of the
vibrator actually altered with every climactic spasm of her vaginal
muscles: Whirr… Wharr… Whirr… Wharr… Whirr… Wharr… She
kept moaning, over and over…
I realised that I was panting almost as hard as she was. I shook, and it
felt like there were a million butterflies in my stomach.
Angela finally let her body go limp. Her fingers drifted to the circular
switch and the hum of the vibrator abruptly ceased. She slid the massive
fake cock slowly out of her pussy, and as it exited her love tunnel it
made a soft shlop! My eyes were glued to how slick and shiny it was
with her cream.
She opened her eyes to slits, and she smiled groggily at me.
“Was that okay, honey?”
I was bereft of speech for several seconds. “Holy FUCK!” I finally
She smiled, and held the dildo up. She took note of how slick it was
with her cum, and she giggled. “Look at alllll my cream, baby!”
I swallowed. Her smile curled further. “Why don’t you lick it all off
for me, honey. You don’t want me to waste my cream, do you?” She held it
out towards me.
Mesmerised, I came closer.
“After you lick it clean for me?” she added in a soft drawl. “Why don’t
you lick the rest of me clean, too. Will you do that for me, honey?”
Of course I would – and of course, I did.
Later she wanted to know what my feelings were as I watched her using
the dildo. I softly told her that it was truly one of the most erotic
things I have ever seen, and just how much seeing her cum using the toy
had turned me on. Angela listened intently to me.
“Did you think of that little fantasy as you watched, honey?” she
“Yes,” I softly admitted. “I kept imagining it was a real cock – and
She nodded and smiled gently. “I knew the idea it might pop into your
head as you were watching. How did it make you feel?”
“Hot,” I told her. “Very hot.”
“Do you still often think about me with another man?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “I guess more so now because of what happened –
because I can’t do it right now, maybe.”
“Because you can’t fuck me,” Angela stated candidly.
“Yes,” I replied softly.
“I can understand that, honey, and I can understand why,” she said
gently. “I had an idea that it might’ve been on your mind a lot more,
but I wasn’t sure how you’d react right now – you know?”
I smiled faintly. “Well, the idea of you doing it is still as exciting
as ever to me.”
She slowly nodded, and I could see that she was mentally filing the
“Did you enjoy feeling something inside you again?” I gently asked.
“Honestly? Yes,” she replied. “As you might know, honey, for a woman
there’s two types of orgasm – vaginal and clitoral. When I am ‘filled’,
it’s a lot easier to have a vaginal orgasm, which for me are a lot
“Do you miss having intercourse?” I inquired.
“Yes – yes, I do, very much,” she admitted. “A lot, in fact. I can’t
wait until you’re healed, honey, and everything’s all working properly
again,” She glanced at me, and an impish grin appeared on her face.
“You’d best prepare yourself, ’cause once you’re ready to rock’n’roll,
then we’ll be rocking and rolling a lot!”
And so for the last two weeks the dildo has played a big role in our
bedroom. Angela loves me to slide it inside her, and then for me to lick
her clit at the same time. This makes her have incredibly powerful
orgasms, and I was in many ways glad that our house was some distance
away from our neighbors – because her cries of ecstasy were long and loud.
We had also begun to have a little fun outside of the bedroom; one night
we were sat on the couch watching the TV. Angela turned her head to me
and smiled mischievously.
“You hungry, honey?” she asked.
Not being on the ball, I replied: “Nah, hun. We had dinner not long ago.”
She sent me a mock-pout. “Oooh, okay then. I just thought you might
fancy a taco.”
I blinked. “Right here?” I asked in delighted surprise.
Angela grinned. “Right here – right now.”
Suffice to say that her panties were removed and tossed to the floor in
very short order, and I was soon on my knees, kneeling between her legs
as I licked and sucked her to climax as the TV twittered in the background.
On another occasion, we were sat at our breakfast bar one Sunday
morning, just finishing fried eggs and bacon. We had long ago bought
four very tall stools for use at the breakfast bar, and we were perched
atop two of them as we ate. Being a lazy Sunday morning, we were both
still clothed in just our dressing gowns, and Angela’s hair was still
damp after her morning shower. I had reached for my coffee mug, and my
elbow had knocked a plate of toast to the floor.
“Dammit!” I grunted, arising from the stool and kneeling down to gather
the plate and the scattered toast. I was kneeling almost at Angela’s
feet with my face almost brushing her right thigh, and she swiveled
around on her high stool, and she looked down at me.
Her broad, cheeky grin crept suggestively over her face. “While you’re
down there, honey…”
I laughed. I had never heard this classically lewd solicitation for oral
sex from a woman before.
“Actually, these stools are just at the right height for that, aren’t
they?” Angela remarked. From my kneeling position, I could see that she
was right – her pelvic region sat just above my eye level.
“In fact,” Angela continued. “They’d be a great way for you to be able
to lick me – from behind.”
She uttered a short giggle, and then swiveled her body to face the
breakfast bar again. She slid backward on the high stool so that her
sexy ass protruded far over the leather seat whilst her lower thighs
bore her weight. She then reached down to pull my stool closer to her,
and she slid her right thigh sideways over onto it. This meant that her
legs were now broadly parted with each thigh resting on different
stools. She wriggled a few times to consolidate her position, and then
lowered her upper body down onto the breakfast bar; her backside jutted
outward and upwards even further. She looked down at me over her shoulder.
“What do you think, honey?” she asked sweetly. “You think this would be
a great position for you to please me?”
It certainly was! The overall effect was that her whole pelvic region
now practically hung in mid air, and her widely parted thighs meant that
her pussy and ass were deliciously exposed and accessible from
underneath. Her contortions had caused her dressing gown to ride up, and
from where I was kneeling I had a perfect view of her inverted pussy
peeking out from between her buttocks under the hem of the material.
“It’s a great position,” I agreed excitedly, feeling the buzz
intensify in my loins and lower stomach.
She giggled again, and asked in a teasing voice: “Then what’s stopping
you, honey? Not hungry anymore?”
I was always hungry for what she was offering. I quickly shuffled
sideways on my knees until I was directly behind her and almost between
the two stools that she was now perched upon. She reached back and
lifted her dressing gown up over her back.
“Lick me, baby,” she murmured softly.
I needed no further urging; I steadied myself by placing a hand on each
of the stool uprights to either side of me, and I tilted my head back
and pressed my upturned face into her crotch from behind. My tongue
flicked forth, teasing that sensitive spot between her pussy and her
“Mmm, up a little higher please, honey,” she told me. “You know where…”
I knew where, alright; I slid my flattened tongue up to her puckered
rosette, licking and rimming her. She had always loved this kind of anal
play, and her current spread-eagled posture on the stools made it
extremely easy to perform this lecherous sexual act.
The lasciviousness of the situation was intensified when I realised that
Angela had actually resumed eating her breakfast as I was rimming her.
For some crazy reason, this kinky little twist really turned me on;
here I was, with my face pressed to her naked protruding backside and my
tongue devotedly licking her asshole as she sprawled wantonly at the
breakfast bar – and she simply carried on consuming her breakfast as if
this were all perfectly normal.
In fact, she said: “Mmm! Maybe we should do this every Sunday morning,
honey? – me eating bacon and eggs and toast while you’re dining on some
fresh rump,” She uttered a soft, teasing giggle. “Or maybe a tossed
Her wicked double-meanings simply added to my ardor. I kept
enthusiastically rimming her until she had finished her repast. She then
gave a soft groan, and shifted her thighs back further on the stools,
and her delicious nether regions became even more accessible to my eager
“Now – lick my pussy please, baby,” she softly requested.
The kitchen walls were soon echoing to the soft, wet sounds of my lips
and tongue hungrily slurping her pussy, and to Angela’s urgent gasps of
Well, they do say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day…
Mr. Roger’s round face beamed at me over his desk. I was still amazed at
how rotund it was.
“Everything is coming along nicely,” he told me.
I wanted to contradict him and say that everything wasn’t cuming along
nicely – I wasn’t cuming at all. But I bit my tongue.
It was a week later, and I was again back in the consulting room.
“So how’s the prognosis now?” I asked him.
“Very good indeed. You’re healing extremely well, and now it’s just a
matter of time until you’re back to your old self.”
“So I can stop taking those goddamned impotence pills, then?” I asked
He shook his head dolefully. “Not yet. I want to be sure that everything
is healing internally, and that nothing interferes with that. We can’t
risk a premature erection undoing all our good work thus far – otherwise
we would have to go through this whole process again, and we don’t want
that,” He paused and added: “I know it must be very frustrating for
you.” If he’d seen Angela, then he would know how frustrating it was.
I grunted. I hadn’t expected any better, but it didn’t hurt to ask. So –
the soft-dick pills would continue.
He looked at me intently. “You haven’t tried to have intercourse, or
masturbated have you?”
I sent him a sour stare. “Of course not.”
He nodded. “Good. Any undue stimulation or rough handling of the shaft
can be detrimental as well. But without an erection, the risks are
A little bell went off in my head. “Just to the shaft? My glans wasn’t
affected, was it?”
He nodded. “Yes, just to the shaft. That, naturally, is where the major
trauma was, and thus the reason why we want to keep it as stable as
possible for another few weeks. Your glans received relatively little
“I see,” I said thoughtfully.
“Well, since all seems to be going according to plan, I will schedule
you in for two weeks time instead. Say, two-thirty in the afternoon next
I was glad to flee the place, and I headed home.
It can be strange how just one relatively minor occurrence can lead to
major changes in life, and I was shortly to experience the phenomenon
For the last three days Angela had been of her ‘time of the month’, and
this meant that I was unable to even orally please her during her
period. As a result, my already rampant libido skyrocketed yet further
into almost incandescence. My neglected balls had sometimes ached softly
in the last four weeks, but in the last three days they had started to
ache almost constantly. It was not truly painful – just irritating.
So when Angela and I retired to bed that night, I wasn’t surprised when
they began aching yet again. I prayed that Angela’s period would soon be
over, and I could at least deflect some of the constant sexual tension
that made my nerves snap like a loose sail in a high wind by burying my
tongue deep in her creamy pussy. This didn’t say a lot for my
sensitivity to feminine issues – but ladies, please forgive me; as you
may well know, a standing dick – or in my case a sitting one – has no
conscience. I was horny as hell.
I drifted off to sleep with my arm around Angela, the soft waft of her
perfume leading my dreams to a place from which I would never really
return. A lot of people have lucid dreams, I guess – but maybe my
frustrated predicament had my subconscious working overtime.
In any event, the dream I had that night changed my life forever…
I found myself involved in a poker game. The setting could have been
lifted straight from Hollywood; the room was dark and smoky, and I was
sat at a round table that was covered in green felt. A circular ceiling
lamp dangled low over the table, and the face of the other player at the
table was hidden in shadow. I was perplexed at my reason for being here,
since I didn’t gamble a hell of a lot. But I felt an overwhelming
urgency, almost a need, to beat my adversary.
This was apparently proving to be difficult; when my luck was bad, my
opponent seemed to sense my ill fortune, and he upped the ante, and I
lost. When I was dealt a good hand, he eerily seemed to know this as
well, and he quickly folded. I subsequently lost far more than I gained.
I could feel a strange sense of desperation inside me.
I suddenly realised I was out of cash.
“I don’t have any more money,” I said to the shadowy figure across the
table. The man was silent for so long that I wondered if he had heard me.
“What about your wife?” he finally asked in a strangely deep voice. It
was the first time he had spoken a full sentence.
“You want me to bet my wife?” I asked in surprise. His answering
silence simply confirmed my question.
A sudden flitter of motion to my left attracted my eye. I was startled
to discover Angela sitting in a chair against the wall with her long
legs crossed, serenely smoking a cigarette. I wondered if she had been
here all the time. The question of how it was that she was bathed in
light when the rest of the room was so dark didn’t occur to me – but in
dreams, things don’t have to make sense.
I noted that she was wearing a red dress very similar to the one she had
worn when I had first seen her in the bowling alley so long ago. But
this one was a come-fuck-me dress; it was so short that it revealed
not only the full sweep of her smooth thigh, but also a hint of her
right buttock. The plunging neckline dipped half way to her navel, and
the soft swell of her breasts lay exposed almost to her nipples. I
instinctively knew that she was naked underneath the dress.
I looked at her face. She gazed back at me with what was a detached,
almost aloof half-smile, as if she either had full confidence in my
ability to win if I bet her in the game, or she simply didn’t care. She
unfolded her legs and crossed them to the opposite side. I noticed that
she wore her red high-heels with a four-inch stiletto.
“How much?” I asked the shadowy figure opposite me. He slowly pushed the
pile of bills that he had in front of him to the center of the table; he
wanted to wager all that he had in exchange for me wagering my wife. I
licked my lips.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bet my wife. Deal the cards.”
As he slowly dealt the cards, I glanced back at Angela; her indifferent
half-smile had widened, almost as if she was amused and even pleased at
the notion of becoming the prize in a poker game.
I picked up my cards to discover that I had a high straight. I felt a
glow of elation, and I looked at Angela and winked. Her smile became
almost a leer. The shadowy man across the table was totally silent, and
all I could see was his hand holding the back of his cards to me. He
elected to take two, and I held. Since the bet was fixed – here I
glanced at Angela butting her cigarette – there was no further betting.
He laid down his cards: a single pair of aces. “Let’s see what you got,”
I laid down my hand in triumph.
“You lose,” the man said.
“Lose?” I barked. “How the fuck can I lose? My straight beats your pair!”
“Take a look at your cards,” he intoned.
I glanced down at my cards; the faces were blank. Plain white. Empty.
I stared down in shock. As I watched, the five cards that I’d placed
onto the green felt almost seemed to shrivel and wither.
“You lose,” the man repeated.
“That can’t be!” I yelled.
“You lose, honey,” Angela interjected softly. “You shouldn’t have bet me
if you didn’t have anything to back it up with.” Her leering smile had
become a lusty smirk. She rose to her feet, and I now saw that the
hemline of her dress barely covered her pubic region.
I went to rise to my own feet – only to discover I couldn’t move. I was
paralyzed. The harder I tried to rise, the more I became immobile.
Angela walked over to the victor sitting opposite me. He slid his chair
back to allow her to stand in front of him with her back to me.
“Are you going to take me now?” I heard her ask him.
“Yes. Undress yourself.” he replied. His words rocked me. Undress
The ceiling lamp now started playing weird tricks; the bright cast of
its light seemed to alter to keep only the face of the mysterious man in
shadow. When Angela turned to face me I could clearly see her soft,
drowsy smile, She slowly reached around behind her back to unzip her
dress, and she slowly peeled it off; her beautiful breasts and her
neatly-trimmed thatch of pubic hair leapt into view. She contemptuously
tossed her dress aside, gazing back at me with a teasing smile. I sat
staring in frozen disbelief as she stood naked in the harsh light of the
ceiling lamp. My rivals’ hands suddenly came from behind to cup her
hips. He drew her backwards and pulled her down to sit on his lap.
Their faces were lost in the shadows again, but I could see that Angela
had swiveled her head sharply to the right because the bottom of her
golden tresses swept over her upper chest. The smack of lips suddenly
echoed from the far side of the table, and it was perfectly obvious that
they were kissing. His hands slid around her waist, reaching up to cup
her firm breasts.
I opened my mouth to speak – whether in approval or in protest, I wasn’t
sure – but no sound came out in any event; I was dumbstruck. Again I
tried to rise from my seat, but I couldn’t move. It was like my arms and
legs had become welded to the chair on which I sat. I realised that I
was becoming hard – I could feel my cock slowly expanding inside my
He took each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger, and he
rolled them firmly. They instantly hardened, and I heard a smothered
moan issue from my wife’s lips. He tweaked and teased her nipples
expertly, and her hair dipped sharply to one side. I realised he was
kissing her neck – which always turned her on. Her body began to writhe
“Do you want me to suck your cock?” I heard Angela whisper to him.
“Yes,” he said in that strangely deep voice. “Get on your knees.”
Angela climbed up off his lap, and he also rose to his feet. Angela’s
pretty face reappeared in the circle of harsh light as she sank to her
knees. She reached over and undid his trousers, and she soon slid them
down. His briefs followed next, and I was stunned as his cock sprang
into view; it was already erect, and at least eight or nine inches long,
and very thick.
Angela, in fact, drew a startled breath as she gazed at it. “What a
beautiful cock,” she whispered in adoration.
“Bigger than your husband’s cock, isn’t it?” he stated.
Angela nodded. “Lots bigger. I want to suck it.”
“Then suck it,” he told her. “Blow me.”
I sat paralyzed as she did just that; her pouty lips parted and her head
darted forward, sliding the broad purple head of his massive tool slowly
into her mouth. She eased further forward, and my eyes widened as she
engulfed him totally. How she could take all of him inside her mouth I
didn’t know – but she did. Her pert nose was buried in his pubic hair,
and his balls joyfully kissed her dimpled chin.
“Mmmmmmmm…” she hummed from the back of the throat.
She pulled her head back until the glistening crown of his cock withdrew
to her lips, and then she repeated the process – taking him back into
her mouth and out again, over and over, getting faster and faster. Her
long blonde hair swayed hypnotically back and forth, and lewd sucking
and slurping noises drifted over the table. The faceless man slowly
reached down and gently pushed her head back so that the underside of
his glans rested on her bottom lip.
“Hold your mouth open and keep still,” he commanded.
My wife obeyed him; she opened her mouth a fraction wider and gazed
adoringly up at him. He then started to fuck her mouth, swinging his
hips slowly back and forth, and again I watched in disbelief as his long
cock slid in to the hilt. His full balls slapped against her chin.
Angela’s rapt gaze never left his face.
“Play with your cunt,” he bluntly told her. “I want it soaking wet.”
I saw her right shoulder dip slightly, and although I couldn’t see under
the rim of the table, I knew that Angela was again complying with his
request. I could imagine her nimble fingers sliding into her moist slit,
making it slick with her secretions. He continued to face-fuck my wife,
and she tilted her head slightly back, allowing his cock to slide even
further down her throat. A glistening stream of her saliva trickled down
her lips and formed a wet inverted mound under her chin. It quickly grew
under its own weight and hung for several seconds before it dribbled
slowly onto her tits.
He pulled his hips back, and his cock slipped from her mouth, hovering
over her face like a club. A sticky bridge of saliva hung between her
lips and his cock for a second or two before it broke.
“Is your hot little cunt wet yet?” he asked her.
“Yes – my pussy is so creamy for you,” my wife replied. “Are you going
to fuck me now?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes. Get up onto the table, on your back.”
Angela quickly rose to her feet and backed up to the table. She levered
herself up on to it with her hands, and then slowly leaned back until
her body was flat on the felt surface, with her buttocks slightly
overhanging the opposite edge. She raised and parted her legs, and I
could see the she was still wearing her red high-heels. Her inverted
face was now no further than three feet from me. She tilted her head
back and looked up at me.
“He’s gonna fuck me, honey!” she told me huskily, following up with what
appeared to be an involuntary giggle, as though she couldn’t help it.
Her nipples stood proudly erect, like little flagpoles.
The faceless man moved unhurriedly between her parted thighs, his
countenance still clad in shadow. He firmly seized the spikes of her
high-heels, one in each hand, and pushed her legs back and outwards even
further. This tilted her pelvis upwards, and lifted her pussy lips into
my line of sight. He then swung his hips forward, and his hard cock
slithered over her cunt, almost pointing directly at me like the muzzle
of a canon.
He settled until his broad swollen glans was resting just under her
mons pubis. He began rocking his hips slowly back and forth, seesawing
the underside of his thick shaft between her labia. I realised that it
was also rubbing against my wife’s clitoris, teasing her. I could feel
my own cock throbbing impotently.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked her.
“Mmmmm, yes!” my wife panted. “I want you to fuck me hard.”
“Beg me,” he told her
“Please fuck me. Please!”
“Why? Why do you want me to fuck you?”
“Because I need it!” squealed my wife. “Because I need to be fucked!”
“Doesn’t your husband fuck you?”
“Not anymore! He hasn’t fucked me in months!”
“So that steamy little cunt of yours hasn’t had a hard cock up it
“No!” Angela rasped. “Not for ages!”
“I’ll soon fix that,” the man confidently chuckled, rocking his hips a
little faster. The underside of his glans slithered wetly back and forth
over her clit.
“Good!” Angela gasped eagerly. She wriggled her hips. “Please stop
teasing me! Do it!”
“You put it in,” he told her. “If you want my hard cock inside you so
much, then you reach down and put it in.”
My wife hastily slid her hand down to his meaty shaft. She wrapped her
fingers around it, and guided the massive head downwards. I actually saw
it disappear between her upturned pussy lips.
“Now fuck me!” my wife hissed to him.
I watched helplessly as he slowly thrust his hips forward, and his thick
cock slid wetly into her – inch after inch after inch, until at last his
huge tool was completely buried in her cunt. Angela uttered a long,
grateful moan and tilted her head back toward me. I stared at her
upside-down face, and her green eyes bored into mine.
“Mmmmm, he’s inside me, Michael,” she panted to me. “His hard cock is
so deep inside me! Jesus, it feels so good! He’s gonna fuck me hard,
I heard him laugh softly. He slowly began sliding his cock in and out of
her pussy, almost in slow motion. “I think Michael likes watching
someone fuck you,” he said.
Angela grinned and looked towards his face. “I know he does. You
didn’t need to win me in a bet – you could’ve just asked him if you
could fuck me. That would have made him hard!”
The man guffawed. “He’s already got a hard-on.” I have no idea how he
knew I had an erection – but he did.
Angela smirked cattily. “That makes a fucking change! See? He can only
get it up if someone else fucks me – and you’re gonna fuck me hard,
“I sure am. Your sweet little cunt is so tight!”
Angela smiled. “It’s tight because my fucking husband hasn’t used it in
He laughed again. “That wouldn’t matter – you’d still be tight for me
She giggled. “I’m sure I would be! Your cock is so big – and so
hard! I love feeling it inside me!”
He gave a deep chuckle. “Are you sure you want my cock? Wouldn’t you
rather have your husbands cock inside you instead?”
“NO!” she cried sharply. “I want yours!”
“You’re a horny little tart, aren’t you?” he stated.
“Yes, I am! – now FUCK ME!”
He instantly obliged her, slowly speeding his rocking hips, slamming his
cock deep inside her as I sat in paralyzed silence, watching every
powerful thrust, watching my wife’s body jolt with each firm stroke,
watching her beautiful tits describe tight, wobbly circles as the rhythm
of his pumping hips flowed up through hers. He was still holding the
spiked heels of her shoes, using them almost like a pair of convenient
handles with which to keep my wife’s legs widely parted.
Angela’s moans soon took on a far more urgent and ardent tone. Her body
tensed as the carnal slap of their flesh became more and more intense.
With her legs drawn so sharply back, I could see her pussy lips clinging
to his cock as it slid in and out, slick and shiny with her juices.
“I’m gonna cum any second!” he grunted.
“Cum inside me,” my wife implored loudly. “Shove it right in and shoot
it deep inside me! Cream me!”
He uttered several shuddering moans, and his hips suddenly plunged
forward and drove his cock inside her to the hilt. I knew at that very
moment his semen was beginning to erupt deep inside my wife’s hot,
“Oh, yeah!” he moaned loudly. “I’m cuming!”
Angela arched her back under him, and yelled: “I’m cuming too! Cuming!
The voice caused my eyes to snap open. There was only darkness, and I
was softly gasping. I could feel myself trembling. Disorientation took
me for a few seconds.
I inhaled the familiar aromas of our bedroom. A dream, I realised. A
I felt Angela in bed beside me; I was pressed snugly against her naked
back, and she was stirring from slumber.
“Michael?” she murmured groggily. “Are you okay? I heard you cry out,
I heard her reach up and tap the touch lamp on. I squinted in the sudden
“I’m okay, hun,” I replied. “Just a dream.”
She slowly began to roll over to face me when a look of sudden confusion
passed over her face.
“What the hell…?” she muttered. She reached behind her back, sliding
her right hand down to her panties.
At the same time, I became aware of a dampness on my briefs. I darted a
hand down to my groin; my briefs were drenched, and from the smooth,
sticky consistency I knew that it was semen. The dream had caused me to
ejaculate – a lot.
Angela drew her hand from behind her back, rubbing her fingers together
and staring at them intently. She, too, realised that the fluid was semen.
“A wet dream?” she softly asked me.
I sighed in embarrassment. “Apparently so,” I replied. My groin had been
pressed tightly against her backside as I dreamed, and some of the
watery pre-cum and semen must have soaked through my underwear and onto
I arose and went to the bathroom to clean up the mess, still stunned by
what had occurred. I returned to the bedroom and slid a fresh pair of
“Is everything okay, baby?” Angela asked as I slid back into bed. I knew
what she was referring to; she was worried about if I had hurt or
damaged the healing incision in my penis.
“Yeah, it’s okay, baby,” I told her sullenly. “I had a look in the
bathroom. Everything’s fine.”
“You didn’t get hard at all, did you?” she asked.
“No, hun,” I replied. “Those fucking pills are still working. I wasn’t
hard at all.”
“What did you dream about?” she inquired.
“I can’t remember,” I replied – a little too quickly. Even to me it
sounded lame, and I inwardly cringed.
“Don’t lie to me, Michael,” she said quietly. “Whatever you dreamed
about made you so aroused that you were able to have a wet dream – even
though you weren’t hard. I want to know what the dream was. It’s
important to me.”
I closed my eyes. “Can I tell you tomorrow?”
“No – by the morning you will have forgotten most of it. Tell me now.”
I doubted I would forget that dream in a hurry. I sighed again – I was
cornered. I acceded to her request, and I recounted the dream in soft,
halting detail, omitting nothing. Angela lay beside me and listened
intently. When I had finished my account, she smiled softly and kissed me.
“Thank you, honey,” she said. “Okay – well, firstly, I’m not surprised
that you had a wet dream; it’s been six weeks since you last ejaculated,
and it was bound to happen sooner or later, honey. So don’t be
embarrassed about it, okay?”
I smiled wanly and nodded.
“Secondly, I’m very aware that the notion of me screwing another man has
a huge impact on you, and that it’s probably your biggest turn-on. As
I’ve always told you, I’m more than fine with that fantasy, honey, and I
can certainly understand it. Jesus, I use it on you myself, so don’t
be shy about telling me any dreams or thoughts that you have about it,
no matter how kinky or extreme they are, okay?”
I nodded again.
“Thirdly? I’ll play amateur psychiatrist, and say that I can see that
there’s a lot of things in that dream that reflect the current situation
– for example, I’m guessing that the cards going inexplicably blank and
wilting is perhaps symbolic of how the medication is keeping you soft.
The same with you not being able to move or speak as you watched me.
That dream just blended your inability to have a hard-on with your
cuckold fantasy – very intensely.”
“You’re probably right,” I said quietly.
“I’d really like to talk about a lot of the other things that you
mentioned, but not right now – it’s too late and I’m in a coma and can’t
think straight, honey. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”
“Sure, baby” I replied.
She gave me an inquiring look. “Did you actually climax?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Being asleep, it was kinda hard to tell. But
I think I did.” In fact, I did feel a warm post-climax glow in my loins.
Angela cocked her head to one side. “Really? That’s interesting. Very
interesting. We just might have to have a chat about that, too. But
let’s get some shut-eye, huh? I have an early start tomorrow, honey.”
I nodded, and she touched the metal base of the lamp and the room was
plunged back into darkness. She kissed me again, and our faces remained
pressed gently together on the pillows.
“I love you, baby” she whispered.
“I love you, too” I replied.
There was silence for about twenty seconds, and then she quietly asked:
“Did you enjoy watching him fuck me?”
“Yes,” I answered softly.
I felt a soft grin flood her face.
We drifted back off to sleep in eachother’s arms.
Angela and I didn’t get a chance to talk about my lascivious dream until the evening after the next. We’d had visitors the night after I’d had my dream, and we had gone to bed very late and very tired. The next evening we were gloriously alone. At around 10:00pm, and after we were sure we wouldn’t get any more unexpected guests, Angela suggested that we take a long relaxing soak in the spa. The spa was an extravagance that I’d added to her gym room downstairs.
We gratefully climbed into the warm water. Angela had retrieved two beers from our refrigerator, and she handed me one as we sat letting the warmth of the spa soak into us.
We chatted about the usual stuff for about ten minutes, and then she sent me a long appraising stare accompanied by a soft smile. “So, honey,” she began. I knew it was time for our little chat about my dream. “Did you really climax the other night?”
“I think I did,” I replied. “Like I said – being asleep it was kinda hard to tell.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Did you know you were actually humping me?”
That took me by surprise. “No – I wasn’t aware that I was.”
“That’s what woke me up,” she said. “You were moaning in your sleep and softly grinding yourself against my ass. I thought that there was something wrong with the cut.”
I blushed slightly. “Jesus – I’m sorry, baby!”
Angela brushed my cheek gently with the back of her hand. “Don’t be sorry, honey. You were asleep, and I was just worried when I heard you moaning.” She took a swig of her beer. “I did some checking on the Internet the other day. It’s quite possible for a man to have an orgasm even if his dick isn’t hard. It’s far more difficult to achieve, and the man has to be extremely aroused – but it’s quite possible. So you may very well have actually climaxed as you dreamed.”
I sent her a rueful grimace. “Just my luck to be asleep while it happened,” I grunted.
Angela gave a soft laugh. “True enough! But think of it as a good sign, honey: everything’s still working just fine, by the looks.”
“Rogers told me that the head of it – my glans – was hardly damaged at all,” I told her. “He said that the nerves are okay. So I guess that if I was grinding it into your backside, then there might have been enough stimulation to make me climax even though I was still soft.”
“And the dream you were having obviously excited you a lot,” Angela replied. Her face became thoughtful for a few seconds. “He’s just worried about you having an actual erection, isn’t he? Mr. Rogers, I mean.”
I nodded. “Yeah. He told me that I needed to avoid any trauma to the shaft – no erections or anything else that would cause the wound to open up, or to screw things up internally.”
“You mean no jerking or pulling it?”
I shrugged. “So he said.”
“But your glans is essentially fine now? That part’s okay, isn’t it?”
I nodded again, wondering what she was driving at. “I guess so. If I was able to cum in my sleep the other night, and everything’s still okay, then it seems to be.”
Angela took another swig of her beer and glanced thoughtfully at me for a few seconds. “Why don’t we see, honey?”
“Huh?” I grunted.
Angela flashed me a smile. “Why don’t we try to reproduce what happened during your dream, and see if we can make you climax again?”
I looked at her. “What do you mean?”
“Well, are you sure that you can’t get a hard-on? I mean, are you sure that no matter what you do, you can’t get an erection because you’re taking those pills?”
I gave a perplexed nod. “I haven’t even come close to being hard since it happened – no matter how aroused I am, as you probably know, hun.” I had, in fact, attempted on several occasions to see if I could at least start to harden in response to stimulation, just to see it I could. But no matter how much I tried, I remained flaccid and limp. The evil little pills were certainly doing their job.
“So,” Angela added. “What about if I was to softly caress and stroke just your glans – no jerking or pulling the shaft. I wonder if that’d be enough to make you climax, honey – especially if I was to tease you a little as I did it.”
A little electric jolt passed through me. The thought of her caressing me after so long without any such contact made me tingle. The ever-present carnal buzz inside me quickly went into high gear.
“In fact,” Angela continued with a suggestive smile. “As I did it, we could play a little game of Questions and Answers. Then we’d really be able to explore your kinky little dream, wouldn’t we, hmm?”
I nodded eagerly. Questions and Answers was a lascivious little word game that Angela and I played every now and again – a little like Truth or Dare, except that there were no dares involved. The rules were simple: One of us asked the other a question, and the other had to answer truthfully, usually with a simple yes or no – although often the questions needed a more open answer. It was almost like a gentle sexual interrogation. Angela loved to play this game in order to explore the darker side of our desires and fantasies. It was one of her favorite post-coital ploys that she used during pillowtalk, and to be honest I loved to play it because it always led to some extremely hot and erotic conversation.
“I’d love to try that,” I replied quietly.
Angela’s smile widened. “When we talk about your dream, I’m gonna ask you some very kinky questions about it, okay? You promise to answer me truthfully?”
I nodded again. One of the unspoken rules of the game was that nothing was taboo, and that practically any question was allowed, and it had to be answered honestly. “Do you want to do it now?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “It’s too awkward in the tub. We’ll wait until we’re done in here, hun, and then we’ll go and have a nice, long chat about it in the lounge.”
“Okay – I’m ready when you are!” I said in what was only half mock-enthusiasm.
My wife giggled. “You’ve waited six weeks, lover! I’m sure you can hold on for another few minutes!”
Angela craftily changed the subject right then, and we lazed in the spa for another ten minutes or so, talking about this and that. Because it was already late in the evening, we both just put on our dressing gowns rather than getting completely re-dressed. We headed upstairs into the lounge-room and made ourselves comfortable on the couch. The wicked little buzz in my loins was practically screaming. Angela could sense my eager anticipation.
“Ready to play the game, lover?” she asked me. I nodded hungrily.
She grinned. “Untie your dressing gown, honey.”
I loosened the cloth strap around my waist, and Angela reached across to peel the gown open; my pubic region became exposed to her gaze. She rose from the couch and sank to her knees in front of me, placing her hands on my knees and parting them.
She looked up at me. “You’re sure that you won’t get hard, baby
“I’m sure, hun,” I replied.
“If you even harden a little, I’ll stop, okay? Slide down a bit, honey.”
I pushed my hips down and outward, so that I was almost slumped with my backside was just hanging off the cushion. Excitement fluttered through me.
“That’s it,” Angela told me. “Now I can get to you properly…”
She moved between my knees and reached down with her left hand to gently lift my cock. I uttered a soft gasp; although she had occasionally changed my bandages for me when I’d still had the sutures in, she had obviously not touched or caressed me in a sexual manner. This was the first time that she had actually fondled me in over seven months. As she held my penis upright in her left hand, she extended the forefinger of her right hand and placed it on the incredibly sensitive spot just under my glans. She began to softly massage the tip of her finger underneath me, making rapid little circles. Little sparks went off in my loins.
Angela looked up at me. “Feel good, baby?”
“Jesus, yeah!” I softly gasped. Normally I would have begun to get hard long before this, and with the delicious waves that her swirling fingertip was sending through me, I should have hardened instantly. But my cock stayed disconcertingly limp. For some weird reason, I was surprised to find that this in itself was a turn-on.
“Good,” my wife replied softly. “Let’s start the game, honey.”
“Okay,” she said. “So in your dream, you said I was very scantily dressed?”
“Yep.” I replied. As I have mentioned, I had told her the main particulars of the dream I’d had right after it happened, but not all of the fine details.
“How scantily?” she asked.
“You were wearing a very tight dress – a red one. Very short.”
“How short?” she inquired.
“I could almost see your pussy when you stood up.”
“Ahh.” she intoned. “That short. What else was I wearing?”
“Your red high-heels – the ones with the stiletto heel.”
“What bra did I have on?”
“You weren’t wearing one.”
“No panties either?”
“No – no panties either. Nothing underneath.” I confirmed.
“So I was dressed liked a complete little slut?”
She smiled and tilted her head slightly. “What about the man you were playing poker with – what was he wearing?”
“A black shirt, I think. And a pair of casual slacks – something like that. I didn’t take much notice.”
“Was he older than you?”
“So he was younger than you, then?”
“How much younger?”
Her question made me think; I suddenly recalled that I had sensed that the shadowy guy in my dream had been younger than I was. “Mid-twenties. Maybe younger.”
Angela smiled. “Ahh… so he was a lot younger than you, then?”
“Did that excite you? Imagining a younger man fancying me?”
“What about when you bet me in the game. How did I react? Did I tell you not to bet me?”
“No. You didn’t say anything.”
“Was I angry?”
“No – not at all. You just smiled at me, as if you thought it were funny. Or even that you wanted to be a prize in the game.”
“Ah-hah!” Angela breathed, “And how did that make you feel?”
“What did I do when you lost?”
“You stood up and kinda smirked at me. You told me I shouldn’t have bet if I couldn’t back it up.”
“And how did I sound?” Angela inquired.
I again thought for a few seconds. “Bitchy.”
“Bitchy?” she said, raising an eyebrow.
“Did that excite you?”
“Yes, it did – a lot.”
Angela digested this information for a few seconds. “And then I walked over to the guy whose face you couldn’t see, and who’d just ‘won’ me?”
“What happened then?”
“You asked him if he was going to take you.”
“‘Take me’? You mean if he was going to fuck me?”
“Uh-huh.” I confirmed. He swirling fingertip was sending continual waves of pleasure through my loins.
“Did he undress me?”
“No. You undressed yourself – because he told you to.”
“Ah, I see. So he told me to strip, and I did it?” Angela inquired.
“And how did that make you feel? Seeing me undress in front of him because he told me to?”
She continued very gently rubbing and massaging underneath my glans as this deliciously lewd interrogation continued. My member remained paradoxically limp despite the tingling waves of pleasure her fingertip was sending through me. She delicately probed all the events that had occurred in my dream, wanting to know even the minor details. When we got to the part about her kneeling in front of him and her deep-throating him, she seemed especially interested.
“So I just knelt there as he slid his cock into my mouth?” she asked.
“Yes,” I told her.
“Was I jerking him off or anything?”
“No – you just knelt there with your hands at your side as his hips went back and forth.” I said.
Her mischievous grin warned me that she was about to say something very crude. “So I basically let him use my mouth like a cunt?”
I gasped. “Yes!”
“Did I lick his cock?”
“Not really,” I replied. “But you drooled a lot.”
“Yes. You had drool trickling down your chin.”
“A little, or a lot?”
“A lot,” I replied. “So much that it dripped onto your tits.”
“Ahh!” Angela said. “And did that turn you on?”
“Yes, it did – very much,” I admitted.
“See, that’s something I didn’t know turned you on.” Angela said softly. She looked up at me and leaned down so that her face was directly over my flaccid member. She worked her mouth for a second or two, and then extended her tongue. A creamy ball of her saliva slowly rolled down and landed on the head of my cock.
“Did it look like that, honey,” she asked me.
“Jesus Christ, yes!” I panted loudly. Her saliva tricked slowly down one side of my glans.
She smiled sweetly at me, and then lowered her mouth to my cock. She sucked the head softly between her lips, and my hips jerked as the creamy warmth of her mouth enveloped me. For the first time in over seven months she was sucking me! I moaned softly.
She winked at me, and I could feel the tip of her tongue slithering wetly under my glans, zeroing in on that sensitive spot underneath. She did this for maybe ten seconds before she withdrew my cock from her lips – but instead of breaking contact completely, she kept her lower lip seesawing against the underside of my glans, her jaw moving steadily from side to side. This actually enabled her to continue to talk to me even as her soft, warm bottom lip rasped continually against me. I uttered another gasp of pleasure.
“Did that feel good, honey?” she asked.
“Christ, yeah!” I answered tightly.
She giggled. “It’s been so long since I took you into my mouth, Lover. Now – what happened next in your dream?”
And so the little game continued – me answering her questions as her lower lip steadily sawed at the underside of my glans. Whenever she did stop to ask a long question, or to make a long observation, her index finger instantly took over, gently massaging and sliding wetly under me. We reached the point in my dream where Angela had lowered herself onto the table. My legs were now trembling.
“So I looked up at you with my face upside-down, and told you that he was gonna fuck me?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“You giggled about it.”
“Like this?” She uttered a soft, sexy giggle.
“Fuck, yes! Just like that.”
“What else did I say?”
“You begged him to fuck you.”
“Did I just?” Angela replied. “Was I more bitchy, or less bitchy than before?”
“More bitchy,” I panted. “You told him you needed to be fucked.”
“I’m sure I did,” My wife replied. “Did it excite you that I was being so mean and bitchy?”
“What was he doing?”
“He was sliding the bottom of his cock along your pussy – kinda teasing you to make you want it. He asked you if I had fucked you recently.”
“And what did I say?”
“You said that I hadn’t fucked you in months.”
“Well, that part’s true, honey,” she replied with a wink. “How did that make you feel?”
“It just made me hotter! I could feel myself getting a hard-on.”
“Ah!” Angela said. “So in your dream you got the hard-on that you can’t get for real?”
“What happened next?”
I was panting in earnest now. “He made you reach down and guide his cock between your pussy lips.”
Angela giggled. “Mmm, very kinky! And then he slid his cock into me?”
“Yes!” I replied.
“And he started fucking me?”
“Yes! Slowly!” I gasped.
“Did I keep teasing you as he fucked me?”
“What kind of things did I say?” Angela asked softly. I looked down and watched her lower lip rasping wetly under my glans.
“You kept telling me how hard he was.” I panted.
“You told him that he didn’t need to ‘win’ you,” I said shakily. “You told him that he could’ve just asked, and I would have given you to him.”
“Ahh… That was very kinky and bitchy of me! What did he say?”
“He just kinda laughed. He told you that I liked watching him fuck you. He somehow knew I was hard at that moment, and he told you.”
“And what did I say?” Angela asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.
“You said I could only get hard if I watched someone else fucking you.”
Angela’s eyes lit up, as if in sudden enlightenment. “Ahhh! And how did that make you feel?”
“It made me shake!”
“What happened then?”
“He started fucking you – harder and harder!”
“What sort of things was I saying as he fucked me?” Angela asked enticingly.
“You told him how big and hard he was. He asked you if you’d rather have my cock inside you instead…”
Angela giggled. “And let me guess – I said no?”
“Yes,” I replied shakily, “You told him you wanted his cock”
“Mmm, that was bitchy of me, wasn’t it honey?” Angela grinned wickedly.
“Jesus, yes it was!”
“I bet that excited you though, didn’t it?”
“Uh-huh!” I confirmed. Her lower lip rasped wetly under my glans with greater fervor. The combination of her constant but gentle ministrations and her wickedly carnal questions was causing a hot tension at the base of my cock. I thought I felt the first stirrings of climax building deep in my loins. I uttered another soft, almost desperate moan.
Angela knew that we had come to the part of the dream that had aroused me the most; her sawing lower lip began caressing me a little faster, and her voice became even more sultry, almost teasing.
She giggled again. “So you sat there, with your poor cock all hard, and you had to listen to me telling another man that I wanted his nice big hard cock instead of yours?”
“Yes!” I groaned.
“You do realise that if it happened for real now, you wouldn’t even be able to get hard would you, honey? You’d just have to sit there, all soft, and watch as he fucked me with his powerful cock, wouldn’t you?”
“YES!” I almost shrieked. The wickedly kinky image that she’d just outlined slithered through me like a lascivious drug; the hot, urgent tension at the root of my cock tightened even more. Her warm, slippery lower lip chaffed insistently under my glans.
“Ahh! Is that thought making you hot, baby? Your cock staying soft as someone else fucks me?”
“Jesus fuck, YES!” I groaned. Another warm flutter rippled through my loins. I looked down to see that front of her dressing gown had parted, and her breasts peeked out at me. Her nipples were hard, and this just aroused me even more.
Angela slid out her moist pink tongue, and flicked it rapidly under my soft glans for a few seconds. I moaned sharply as new waves of ecstasy rippled down my shaft, watching her beautiful face and her sparkling eyes. She withdrew her hot tongue and immediately continued sawing and rasping me with her lower lip again.
“I see,” she said in that silky, soft voice. “So if I were to go out one night and find myself a playmate, it’d drive you wild to sit here and watch me play with him, lover? Knowing that you couldn’t get your little pecker hard for me?”
“Oh, Christ, yeah!” The phrase little pecker hit me like a lascivious freight train.
“Ah!” she grinned, zooming right in. “Does it make you hot if I say that you have a little cock, lover?”
Angela gave a soft chuckle: “How about a little, useless cock?”
“FUCK, YES!” I blurted. Hearing her say that made my hips literally buck. Climax swirled distantly in my upper thighs.
She stifled a giggle. “So you wouldn’t mind if I told him that my husband couldn’t get his tiny, pathetic little pecker up for me anymore?”
“Could I tell him that because my tiny-cocked little hubby was always soft, I was desperate for a good, long, hard fucking?”
“Oh, God, do it!” I exclaimed. I could now definitely feel orgasm hovering nearer, dancing closer, and then skipping teasingly away. The waves of pleasure from Angela’s constantly reciprocating lower lip rippled through me.
She now sensed that I was close. “And how about if I even started making fun of you? Telling him that you were just my ‘little softy’…” She uttered another short, wicked giggle.
I looked down at her and groaned. “Oh my God, yes!”
Angela carried on. “That wouldn’t bother you would it, honey? If me and my sexy playmate had a good, long chuckle about my limp-dick little hubby?”
“NO! It wouldn’t bother me!”
“Wouldn’t that be bitchy of me, lover?” she asked sweetly.
“But you like me being a nasty little bitch, don’t you?”
“Oh, Jesus, YES!” I wailed thinly.
Angela tried another tack: “Of course, if I was going to be a real bitch, I’d make sure that he was young, honey. Early twenties, maybe. Full of energy! Do you think that some horny young stud would like to get into my knickers, lover?”
“Do you think he’d be able to give me what I need, honey?”
“Yes, he would!” I almost screamed. I could feel the long-forgotten tightening of muscles in my loins. I was so close!
Angela winked up at me. “And what do I need, lover?”
“A good, hard FUCK! A big hard cock deep in your pussy!” I was stunned to hear myself say it.
“That’s exactly what I need!” Angela confirmed lasciviously. “Just imagine, honey – me spreading my legs for some fit and frisky young guy almost half your age. Mmmm! That wouldn’t bother you, would it, baby?
“I bet he wouldn’t have any trouble getting hard for me, would he?”
“No he wouldn’t! Oh, please keep going! PLEASE!”
“He’d be so young and hot and horny that he’d probably fuck me all night long, over and over and over!”
“Do it! DO IT!” I yelled. Orgasm fluttered even closer!
“Do it?” Angela giggled. “I’d let him do me – any way he wanted, honey, and right in front of you!” Angela gleefully continued. “He could do me doggie, or with me sitting on his lap facing him so he could lick and suck my tits.” She gave a brief chuckle. “Well, your tits, but I’ll share them, honey! And of course I’d let him fuck me as I lay on my back with my soft, smooth legs wrapped around his hips – so he could really drive his rock-hard cock so very deep inside me as you helplessly watch! Yum!”
“OH JESUS, YES! PLEASE!” I practically screamed. It was going to happen! I was close to tears as climax slowly teetered on the very brink! Angela’s sparkling eyes flashed up at me as her bottom lip rasped against me even harder and faster.
“And as he fucks me?” Angela purred. “You’re going to hear me to beg and pant and scream out how big and hard he is! And you’ll have to sit and listen and watch with your poor little cock all limp and soft and fucking useless as I finally get the good, hard fucking I deserve! If I was feeling really bitchy, I might even tell you to hold my legs open for him while he’s fucking me!”
Her last two sentences did it! Climax literally tore through me, cutting its heady way through my upper thighs to explode at the base of my cock, sending tendrils of sheer ecstasy though my whole body! Angela felt my climax begin; I didn’t squirt – I flowed – and she quickly took my glans between her lips and sucked it. She stared deeply into my eyes as she literally milked me with her soft, warm, sucking mouth. She gave me a slow, teasing wink as her tongue firmly rasped the underside of my glans, spiraling me away beyond the ceiling and up through the roof, faster and faster, ever upwards. I screamed her name, over and over and over…
When I came back down to earth, Angela was still softly sucking me. I was literally gasping for breath, and my whole body shook and trembled. She gazed up at me, her eyes alight. She let my cock slide gently from her lips.
“Mmmm, you taste so yummy, lover,” she whispered softly. “Was that good, baby?”
I went to answer her, but I could only utter a croak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Never so good,” I squeaked.
“Did you cum hard, baby?”
I nodded. “It was the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had!” I whispered truthfully.
Angela’s face lit up with a smile. “Mmm, good, baby! I know it’s been so long since it’s happened.”
She rose up from her knees and leaned in to embrace me, kissing me softly but very deeply; I could taste myself on her lips. I was still panting and trembling, and Angela slid back onto the couch beside me. She sat beside me for a few minutes as I slowly caught my breath, and she then arose and got us a drink from the kitchen.
We spent the next half-hour softly talking about what had just occurred, and about the dream in general. Angela was typically inquisitive, wanting to know how it felt as she had fondled and caressed me to climax, and which of her questions had excited me the most. I held nothing back – I was still floating in the soft haze of afterglow, and it was easy to be candid.
“So, baby?” she finally said. “The thought of me screwing another guy while you’re taking the medication to keep you limp is really making you that hot?”
I waited a few seconds before answering her. “Yes – it is,” I finally told her softly.
She nodded and gave me a tender smile. “I think that was the part that excited you most – you really began shaking as soon as I mentioned that bit, and your balls tightened, as well.”
“Well, I have no idea why it turns me on so much – but it does,” I told her.
“One thing surprised me,” she announced, “And that’s how much you enjoyed me being so bitchy.”
I blushed slightly. “I guess it’s all to do with the tease, maybe,” I replied. “And in a lotta ways it fits in with that whole fantasy. Imagining you being like that and saying things like that is extremely erotic.”
She grinned impishly. “So I see, lover. I’ll make good use of that in future, too!”
I smiled. “Oh, I have no doubt that you will.”
She gave me a long look, and then said: “Do you still think about me doing it for real? Sleeping with someone else, I mean?”
“All the time,” I replied. “A lot more since the accident, I guess.”
“So it’d really excite you if I did do it for real? Even though you’re taking those damned pills to keep you soft, I mean?”
“Yes,” I affirmed. “I think that because I can’t have real intercourse with you right now that it’s even more intense than usual.”
“So what would you say if I told you that Debbie’s sister is having her Hen’s night next Friday, and that they’ve invited me to go. I told them that I probably couldn’t make it – but I can soon change my mind. Would it drive you wild if I went, honey?”
A soft quiver of excitement danced through me. “It would drive me absolutely fucking insane,” I replied softly.
My wife sent me a half-smile. “I have absolutely no doubt that it would; after seeing your reaction to some of the things I told you tonight, I am fully aware of what it would do to you.”
“If you did go, I’d be wondering what you’re doing – all night,” I mused in a trembling voice. “Where’s she having her Hen’s night?”
“At a club in town, honey,” Angela told me. Her eyes suddenly sparkled. “You do know how wild and uninhibited a bunch of frisky girls can get at a Hen’s night, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yes,” My mouth suddenly felt dry.
“And if I do go, you know that there’ll probably be a ton of horny young guys trying to hit on us too, don’t you?”
“I’m sure there would be,” I panted.
Angela’s sexy grin widened. “And what about if some hot young guy tried picking me up at the club, lover? Would you want me to be a good girl – or a bad girl?” Angela asked in a silky voice.
An almost deliciously masochistic quiver slithered through my loins. “Are you asking me if it’s okay for you to make this really happen?” I asked, my stomach fluttering.
Angela smiled sweetly. “I guess I am – yes.”
My stomach suddenly did flip-flops. After playing with the idea of bringing the fantasy to life for so long, it had finally come down to this moment. A lecherous wave of desire and lust pounded through me.
“You’d really go through with it?” I asked shakily.
“Oh, yeah, honey,” she replied. “I would.”
“Then maybe you should do it,” I heard myself tell her softly. My legs had gone shaky.
She smiled. “Maybe I should. But before I do, have you really thought it through? If I do decide to make it happen, have you thought about later on, after it’s actually happened?”
I paused for a few seconds; Angela was offering to make my most lascivious and hot fantasy become real. I knew that she would never do it if it threatened our relationship in any way. I finally nodded. “Yes – I have.”
“You’ll be able to handle it okay?”
I nodded again and swallowed what little saliva I had left in my mouth. “It won’t change how you feel for me, will it?”
“Of course not, baby!” she replied. “I would be doing it mostly because it’s been a fantasy of yours for so long. I would not be doing it because I want out of our marriage. I love you Michael, and if I do decide to make it real for you, it’ll be done mainly for that reason.”
“I know that, baby,” I told her. “I love you too, and I know what you mean.”
“Well, we’ll talk about it a lot more later, okay? If we do go through with it, I want to know that it’s really what you want, baby.”
I nodded. “Can I ask you a few questions?” I inquired.
“Fire away, honey.”
“Are you still missing actual intercourse?”
“Yes – I miss it a lot.” she replied, and then short-circuited me by asking: “Do you want to know if us not being able to have penetrative sex is making me hot for other men?”
I swallowed. “I guess so, yes.”
She pondered for a few seconds. “It’s certainly making me think about intercourse a lot more – but not necessarily with other men.”
“But you have thought about doing it with someone else?”
“Honestly? Yes – I have.” She gave me a long, almost abashed look. “Not very often I might add, but I admit I do think about it if I see a really good-looking guy.” She again paused for a moment and sent me a teasing half-smile. “And after tonight, what would you say if I was to think about it a lot more? Do you think I could find myself a hot little playmate at the club next Friday?”
I swallowed sharply again. “I’m sure you could.”
“Well, as I said,” she replied. “We’ll talk about it a bit more before Friday – just to give you time to really think it over, honey.”
I nodded again. My heart was pounding.
She suddenly uttered a low chuckle. “Hmm, I just thought of a sneaky little plan…”
“What is it?” I eagerly asked.
She shook her head. “Never mind – it’ll be a surprise, lover! Telling you now would spoil it – but just know that if I do go to the Hen’s night and if I do happen to hook-up with someone next Friday, then afterwards you’ll be sure to know exactly what happened,” She finished with a wink.
I tried to wheedle the plan from her, but Angela refused to budge – except to say that it would excite me a lot. She then gave me a sexy look, and said:
“And by the way? I finished my period yesterday, honey, as you probably guessed.” Her smile turned into a leer and she lifted the hem of her dressing gown suggestively. “Fancy a nice, juicy taco, baby?” she asked.
After the little chat we’d just had, I sure as hell did! Our previous positions on the couch were reversed – this time with me doing the kneeling and her doing the moaning – and Angela’s clenched fingers in my hair soon guided me to exactly where she wanted me.
As I ate her creamy cunt, my mind was torridly thinking about what Angela could get up to at the Hen’s night next Friday – with a lot of justification, as it turned out.
“How do I look, honey?” my wife asked me.
I quickly turned my attention from the television show that I had been watching and focused my gaze on Angela as she stood framed in the lounge-room doorway. My hungry eyes slowly floated over her a couple of times, from eye-line to ankle.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” I finally told her.
And she did. It was 7:00pm on Friday night, and Angela had just finished dressing in preparation for her night out with the girls. Yes – she had decided to go to the Hen’s night.
She was wearing a slinky cream-colored skirt with a hemline that hovered perhaps six or seven inches above her knees. Her torso was encased in what I can best describe as a lacy red top that resembled a glorified sports singlet; it was almost like a snug fitting corset which had been sewn onto the bottom of a bikini bra, and it hung over her shoulders on spaghetti-thin straps. The neckline wasn’t overly deep but it still offered the observer a generous glimpse of cleavage, and the cup of her breasts was amply evident under the swell of the taut, sculpted material. A loose black jacket and black high heels completed the ensemble.
Angela had also outdone herself in the bathroom; she had blow-waved her long blonde tresses into soft undulating waves. She didn’t need a lot of make-up at the best of times, but tonight she had enhanced her dazzling green eyes with mascara and eye-shadow, and her lips gleamed moistly with soft red lipstick. Angela had made the most of the recent late spring sunshine, and her freshly-shaven legs glowed with a modest tan.
Gazing at her, the overall effect of her alluring attire was sophisticated and classy – but absolutely sexy. Seductive was the first word that sprang to mind. She smiled at me and turned a playful pirouette, and I drank in the sight of her tight calf muscles and her curvaceous backside that resembled an inverted cartoon heart. The wicked little carnal buzz began hammering at me yet again.
“Do you like my new top, honey?” she asked when she had completed her pirouette.
“Very nice,” I replied truthfully.
“I picked it up yesterday,” she informed me. Her eyes flashed. “I don’t need to wear a bra under it,” she added, almost playfully. “It has one kinda built in to it.”
I nodded and swallowed involuntarily. My wife sent me a knowing smile and strode over to where I was sitting. She sank down to perch herself on my lap. Her rich perfume enveloped me, and the warmth of her thighs pressed onto mine.
“Are you still okay with this, baby?” she asked softly, sliding her arm around my neck. “You’re okay with me going to the Hen’s night?”
I slowly nodded. “Yeah, hun – I’m perfectly fine with it. If I seem jumpy, it’s just because…” I hesitated.
“Because you’re thinking about what I might do tonight, lover?” Angela smoothly added, completing my sentence.
“And you’re still perfectly okay with me having a little fun if I get the chance, honey?”
I nodded again. “Yes. Jesus, do you have any idea what the thought is doing to me?”
Angela’s lilting smile widened. “Oh, yes, honey. I know it’s been a fantasy of yours for a long time, honey – and I know what it’s doing to you to think about it possibly becoming real.” She paused for a second. “Especially now,” she added. I knew she was referring to my inability to get an erection, and I drew a sharp, excited breath.
We had, in fact, discussed her jaunt to the Hen’s night on several occasions in the last five days. Angela had wanted to be sure that I was ready for this final leap into unknown territory. She had again made it absolutely clear that if she did do anything tonight, then it was because she loved me, and because she wanted to let me experience my fantasy at the ultimate level. She had also told me that she was very pleased and gratified that I had enough faith and confidence in our love to allow her the chance to play outside of our marriage.
She did, however, also admit that the notion of her engaging in some illicit sex was extremely enticing. This admission naturally augmented my own arousal. I had excitedly asked her several more questions about how much the thought of finding a lover turned her on – but she had coyly deflected my queries, apart from teasingly telling me that it had been seven months since she’d had sexual intercourse, and that my dream had perhaps been right – she just might need it.
She now squirmed on my lap and her smile became a sexy little leer. “So will you be thinking about me while I’m out tonight, baby?”
“Oh, yeah – constantly!” I answered. My excited tone underscored my reply
“Well, just keep thinking about me until I get home, honey,” Angela playfully said. “I’m sure you’ll wait up for me,” She winked and kissed me softly. She arose to her feet. “Well, I suppose I’d better head off.”
I swallowed again and nodded, getting to my feet and following her into the kitchen. She picked up her car keys and large leather purse.
“You won’t drink too much tonight, will you?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “No, baby – three standard drinks will be my limit tonight. I’m not risking my driver’s licence.”
She started to slide her purse into an inner pocket of her jacket. She paused thoughtfully for a few seconds before drawing it back out, sending me a playful smile.
“I also picked something else up yesterday, too,” she said mischievously. She opened the purse, and lifted out a small cardboard box. My heart suddenly pounded.
“I thought I’d better get some – just in case,” she playfully chirped. I glanced down at the small packet of condoms before she slid them back into her purse.
“Oh my God!” I uttered in a tight voice. The buzz clicked up about ten notches.
Angela giggled. “I though that might get your attention!” she purred. She tucked her purse into the pocket inside her jacket.
“You know that I’m going to be a fucking wreck when you get home don’t you?” I whispered huskily to her. She leaned in and kissed me. Her warm, moist tongue slithered over my lips.
“I’ll make sure of it, honey,” she replied smoothly. “Well, I’m gonna head off, lover. If I run into any problems, I’ll give you a quick call to let you know.”
I nodded. My pulse was still racing.
She embraced me, and kissed me again. “I should be home at around midnight, or even a little later, okay?”
“I love you, Michael.”
“I love you too, Angie.”
Her broad grin reappeared. “Have fun tonight, lover.”
“I’ll try. You have fun, too,” I replied tightly.
“Oh, I’ll certainly try, honey!” she playfully quipped. She gave me a soft final kiss and strode to the front door. She was half way out when she turned back to face me. “Oh! By the way? If I do happen to meet a hot little playmate tonight, I’m still going to go though with that little plan I told you about the other night – so I might have a little surprise for you when I get home. See you later tonight, lover!” With a final teasing wink, she was gone. The front door shut with a thump of finality.
As I listened to her high-heels clicking down the front steps, I wondered about her last remark. I had previously tried to find out what her mysterious plan was, but she had teasingly stonewalled me. I listened as her car emitted a muffled bark, and then watched as she reversed down the driveway and drove off – giving my two fruity toots of her car horn in farewell.
I glanced around the lounge-room with my heart still pounding.
It was going to be a long, slow, tortuous night.
What does one do when one’s spouse is out gallivanting and carousing with the full knowledge that she is perfectly at liberty to commit sexual misconduct? I’ll tell you – one goes slowly insane with arousal and desire.
And I can assure you that if you don’t even have the means to slake your own lust – as I didn’t – then the almost deliciously masochistic anticipation is amplified.
After Angela had been able to stimulate me to climax with a combination of her gentle oral ministrations accompanied by a lascivious narrative a few nights ago, I had surreptitiously tried to repeat the episode myself whilst she was at work. But to my dismay I found that stimulating myself was not the same as having Angela do it for me. Whether this was due to a mixture of the physical and possibly psychological effects of the medication I was taking, I don’t know. I had once read that if you tickled yourself, you couldn’t get the same involuntary reaction as if someone else was tickling you – something to do with nerve interactions, or some other medical mumbo-jumbo.
It was perhaps the same with my current situation; I found that no matter how much I was able to emulate what Angela had done a few nights ago, I could not make myself climax in my flaccid state. It became apparent that in order to reach orgasm, I needed her to do it, and to listen to one of her lewd and incredibly erotic narratives as she did so.
Angela, evincing her shrewd female intuition, had later offhandedly asked me if I had tried to repeat what she had done. I somewhat guiltily admitted that I had, but that I couldn’t duplicate what she had been able to achieve. She had been intrigued, but she had also smiled and added that she found it exquisitely delightful that I could climax – but only if she was doing the stimulating. She had actually sent me a teasing leer and said: “Ah! So no cuming for you until I want you to cum, baby! Isn’t that bitchy of me?”
I had actually asked her to try doing it again – but she smilingly shook her head and wickedly told me that we should maybe wait until she got home on Friday night before trying it again. Angela was well aware just how much this would wind me up – and she was right. Wind me up it did, and it actually excited me even more; Angela and I had occasionally played with mild tease and denial games in the past, which I found to be a huge turn-on. The way we had played it was for her to deny me intercourse, but for me to keep her happy by performing cunnilingus on her.
But when we had played such games, we had only managed to last three or four days because Angela herself usually became so aroused as I orally pleased her that she would say to hell with the game, and urgently tell me to mount her. Now, however, circumstances were far more conducive to tease and denial play; since Angela couldn’t have intercourse with me anyway, she was now far more willing and able to extend the game; she knew just how much it would drive me wild to have to await her pleasure – and so the deliciously wicked carnal circle continued.
So this was my current situation; I was able to climax – but only at a time of Angela’s choosing and with her complete co-operation.
And now I was sat alone on a Friday evening, waiting at home as my gorgeous wife was attending a bachelorette party, knowing that she had my full permission to indulge her libido if the chance presented itself. And with her looking as gorgeous as she did, I knew it was a fair bet that a chance would indeed present itself; she would suffer no shortage of appreciative male glances tonight. Was it any wonder I felt like I had overdosed on a very potent aphrodisiac?
I heaved a trembling sigh, and sat down to watch the TV – trying to ignore the lascivious little buzz that vibrated through me like a persistent swarm of lecherous bees.
I watched TV for a couple of hours or so. I would often glance up at the clock mounted on the wall, only to find that time seemed to wade through a pool of treacle. I arose and played a few games on the PC for another hour or two. Little flitting images of Angela dancing with some hot young guy kept filtering through my thoughts.
I looked at the clock.
I shut down the PC game, and absentmindedly started a web browser. I was instantly confronted with Google’s search page. I pondered for a few moments, and then – led by some weird masochistic urge – I typed in:
‘Hens night sex’.
I hit the enter key, and Google dutifully responded. A list of web sites featuring mainly porn filled the screen. Almost of its own volition, my finger clicked the left mouse button over one of them.
I was taken to a page that was laced with images of women merrily reveling at bachelorette parties and hen’s nights. Male strippers flitted amongst the carousing ladies, and this seemed to be eagerly received by members of both genders. The gaudy slogans on the site proclaimed things like:
‘Hot, Horny Women Go Wild For Strippers!’, and ‘Is Your Wife or Girlfriend Inside?’, and ‘Cradle-Snatching MILFs Crave Big-Cocked Strippers!’
I could usually either take or leave porn, and actually Angela enjoyed it more than I did. But in my current state I sat almost hungrily drinking in the images of fully clothed women gazing lustfully at well-built guys in various states of dress (or, more accurately, undress). Well-oiled torsos seemed to be the order of the day, and the male strippers’ lean, shiny bodies seemed to mesmerize many of the ladies, who for the most part displayed expressions varying from delighted shock all the way up to pure lust. In fact, on the next site I visited there were pictures of women actually performing fellatio on some of the strippers, and licking canned whipped cream from their cocks and so forth. My ever-present buzz intensified, and I gazed at the screen with as much rapt attention as a scientist peering down a microscope.
There were also video samples on this site. I couldn’t help myself; I downloaded one of them. I was startled by what I saw.
The video footage began by showing what looked to be a dim club bar-room. The camera panned abruptly to the left to show a slim, short-haired woman of about forty years of age. She was bending forward at the waist to lean over the bar, and stepping out of her panties as she did so. Behind her, a young male stripper wearing nothing but a g-string reached down and lifted her skirt over her back. The woman parted her legs, leering over her shoulder at the well-oiled hunk behind her. The stripper then proceeded to ease his cock from his g-string, and then slid it into her pussy from behind. Loud music pumped in the background, but it wasn’t enough to drown out her delighted squeal of pleasure as he entered her. Just beyond the humping couple was another group of about five dancing women, who simply nudged eachother and pointed, all of them smiling and laughing as they watched the stripper openly fucking the slim woman. Other female patrons drifted in and out of shot – some of them even ordering drinks at the bar alongside the copulating pair, as if a couple screwing in public was all perfectly normal.
I sat stunned. The video did not seem contrived or fabricated, and it had all the hallmarks of being a real bachelorette party. The quality was good, but lacked the artificial sharpness and scripting of a staged porn flick. The site had stated that the footage was genuine, and I could believe it.
I downloaded another film. In this episode, the camera panned across a sea of maybe thirty women dancing to the beat of loud music (with the odd male stripper dotted like a well-oiled and practically naked island in their midst). The camera panned further to the right, and it suddenly drifted downwards.
There, on what looked to be a low, sturdy coffee table, was sprawled a buxom brunette, perhaps Angela’s age. She was lying on her back with her short dress lifted high above her hips and her shapely legs spread wide. In fact, I could see her white panties dangling from her left ankle like a dead animal. A completely naked male stripper was enthusiastically mounting her in the missionary position. I could also hear the brunette moaning and imploring him to fuck her. And it wasn’t only her voicing encouragement; standing in a ring around the writhing couple were four other fully clothed women – apparently friends of the brunette – and two of them were actually shouting down catcalls and lewd suggestions. The other two ladies clapped and laughed as they watched. The footage also captured other women passing by, clasping drinks in their hands and smiling down at the pair as the stripper’s hips rose and fell between the brunette’s outstretched thighs. The camera zoomed in to linger on the brunette’s hands firmly gripping his tight, pumping buttocks – and my mouth dropped open as I saw the wedding ring on her finger.
Once again, the film bore all the marks of it being a real Hen’s night; some of the women, although not very many, moved quickly out of shot or turned their faces away when they saw the camera. Most of them didn’t care, however, and many even yelled enthusiastically into the camera as they cheered and pointed to the fucking couple below them.
I realised that I was panting as I sat in front of the monitor. I had known that some Hen’s nights could be wild – as Angela had stated – but not this wild. The two copulating women in the videos that I had just watched had shown no abashment or embarrassment as dozens of other women gazed at them openly enjoying this brazen sexual act, and the watchers had likewise expressed neither shock or censure – in fact, most of the women seemed to be relishing the free live porn show.
My thoughts quickly drifted to Angela’s current whereabouts. I was almost certain that the function she was attending wouldn’t be as debauched and lewd as what I had witnessed on the films – the venue where the risquâ€š videos took place was obviously a private party at a male strip club or somewhere similar. But it did perhaps give me an insight into the mindset of a group of frisky women out for a wild night without their men. The ages of the women in the videos had ranged from their early twenties up to their fifties, and I had noted that many of them – in addition to the horny brunette being pounded on the coffee table – wore wedding bands or engagement rings. They’d cheered, hooted and clapped as ardently as those who weren’t wearing rings, and possibly more so.
My heart pounded a little harder. I forced myself to leave the web site. In fact, I turned the PC off altogether.
One of the slogans I had seen on the web site – ‘Cradle-Snatching MILFs Crave Big-Cocked Strippers!’ – lingered in my thoughts. Most of the muscular strippers I had seen in the films were young, and seemed more than willing to be cradle-snatched. In fact, the stripper who had fucked the woman leaning down on the bar looked almost young enough to be her son. I suddenly wondered if my sexy thirty-two-year-old wife would be attracted to one of the handsome young strippers. If she elected to snatch his cradle, then I’m sure that he’d be just as eager to conversely cradle her snatch.
I glanced at the clock.
Angela had told me she would return home soon after midnight, but I instinctively knew that it might be much later than this. I realised that my hands were now trembling constantly, and that the later it got, the more the sensation of almost masochistic carnality slithered through my veins with greater intensity. I wondered if at this very moment my gorgeous wife was panting underneath some muscular stud, telling him how good his hard cock felt inside of her. I wondered if she would carry out her threat to tell her lover that I was unable to satisfy her. I uttered a frustrated groan and tried to watch TV. My cock was the only thing not tingling – the rest of me slowly fermented in a bubbling cauldron of lascivious anticipation. Many cuckolds might have recognized the nervous fluttering in my stomach.
The clock ticked as I watched the TV, my mind hardly taking in what my eyes were seeing. Several times I thought I heard a car pulling into the driveway, and my heart raced. They proved to be false alarms. At one point a wooden beam in the roof must have cooled sufficiently to allow it to settle, and it make a sharp crack! This wasn’t unusual – the beam often did this, but I was so wound up that I nearly jumped out of my chair at the sudden but familiar noise.
I looked at the clock again.
Several minutes later my heart leapt up to my throat as I heard the soft purr of Angela’s car pull up into the driveway. I was now trembling in earnest, and my mouth went dry. I rose to my feet and breathlessly waited, my heart pounding. A minute later, I heard the muffled click, click, click of Angela’s high-heels ascending the front stairway, and a few seconds later the front door opened, and my wife walked in.
Her warm green eyes gazed into mine, and she smiled. “Hiya, baby,” she said.
“Hi, hun,” I croaked. I cleared my throat as she approached me. She embraced me and kissed me very softly. A waft of her rich perfume enveloped me, and I hungrily inhaled her aroma. Her warm, tender lips sent trills of pleasure through me. The kiss deepened, and we softly kissed for about three minutes.
We finally broke the kiss.
“How was your night?” I asked, forcing myself to keep my voice steady.
Angela smiled. “It was good, baby. Debbie’s sister invited about twenty of us, so we all had a good time,” Her eyes glittered. “But that’s not what you’re asking, is it, lover? You’re trembling. You want to know if I enjoyed myself, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied shakily.
“Do you want to know if I was a good girl or a bad girl?”
“Then follow me, lover. I have heaps to tell you…”
She sent me her teasing little half-smile, and simply took my hand. She led me into the master bedroom at the front of the house. I followed on legs that shook so much that I’m surprised my knees didn’t knock together.
We entered the dark bedroom and reached the side of the bed. Angela tapped one of the bedside touch lamps on, and the room was instantly bathed in soft light. She turned to me. “Why don’t you get undressed, baby?” she purred.
I quickly undid my shirt and almost ripped it off. My jeans and briefs followed, and I sat down on the bed to slide them and my socks and sneakers off. Angela had simply kicked her high-heels off, and then stood watching me with that exciting half-smile as I disrobed.
“Lay back on the bed, baby,” she softly instructed. I did as she asked.
Angela slowly loosened her skirt, and eased it down her sexy long legs. I stifled a gasp when I saw that she was once again sans panties. I could see her neatly trimmed pubic mound in the dim light. She was still oddly wearing her black jacket and red top, but completely naked from the waist down.
She giggled at my excited expression. “Yeah – no knickers again, honey. But when did I take them off?”
With that, she swung herself over me on the bed, straddling me. Her warm thighs clasped my hips, but she kept her pelvis raised. I glanced down to see her pussy hovering an inch above my limp cock.
“Now, honey?” she began, “Are you really sure that you meant what you said about me being able to play?”
A carnal ripple of almost staggering proportions tore through me.
“Yes!” I gasped.
“So what if I was to tell you that I did hook-up with a sexy playmate tonight?”
“OH GOD!” I moaned. “Did you?”
Angela’s serene smile deepened.
I almost climaxed right then. My whole body shook, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I moaned aloud and arched my back, wanting to drive my flaccid member upward towards her pussy!
She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my limp cock. She gently lifted it upright and slowly seesawed the soft head between her labia. I could instantly feel how wet and slippery she was, and I excitedly wondered if she was still moist from recent intercourse. When my glans was nestled fully between her pussy-lips, she delicately lowered her warm thighs fully onto mine; the moist, creamy heat of her cunt enveloped my cock like a slick cocoon. I whimpered softly again as she began rocking her hips gently back and forth, softly massaging my glans within her pussy.
“Feel good, honey?” she purred.
“Jesus, YES!” I wailed. “Please tell me, Angie! What happened?”
Angela smiled down at me. “Okay – right from the start. Well, his name was Jason, and he hit on me almost as soon as I walked in the door of the club, lover,”
“Did he?” I panted. My lower stomach and thighs felt tense and hot.
“Mmm, yes he did,” my wife replied smoothly. “He was a real cutie, too. About six feet tall, and a really yummy body. He came up to the bar as I was getting my first drink, and he looked at me and said that he thought he’d seen me before. Maybe he had – he might’ve seen me when I was out making sales, or most likely it was just a bullshit pick-up line. Anyway, he offered to buy me a drink – so I let him.”
I panted underneath her. Her hips seesawed, and enveloping pussy moistly clutched at my cock, sending a lascivious message through my loins.
“I had a few dances with him, in between raving and shooting the shit with the other girls at the Hen’s party. He told me that I had beautiful eyes, honey. I have to tell you that I flirted with him – that was ok, wasn’t it?”
“Yes!” I gasped. Her hips were continuously grinding her molten pussy against my cock.
“Oh!” Angela suddenly exclaimed. “Take a guess how old he was, lover?”
“Jesus, how old?” I asked shakily.
“Twenty-five, honey. Is that young enough for you?” Angela giggled. “Let’s see – that’s almost fifteen years younger than you, honey! Just like in your kinky little dream!”
All I could do was moan in reply.
“Well – to cut a long story short,” Angela continued softly. “I danced with him a few more times, and most of the other girls were all doing their own thing – so I asked him if he wanted to go somewhere a little more private.”
“Oh my GOD!” I blurted. “You asked him?” For some reason, the idea that my wife had initiated any subsequent encounter simply added to the wicked eroticism of what she was telling me.
Angela uttered a sexy chuckle. “Yes, I did, lover. He’d seen my wedding ring, and he asked if I was married. I told him that I was – but that it was okay, because my hubby was in Sydney right now. You don’t mind if I told him a little white lie like that, do you, honey?”
“NO!” I yelled. I could feel my glans settle a touch deeper between her soft labia as her hips continually undulated and rocked.
“He told me that he was house-sitting for his uncle this month while his uncle was overseas, and we could go back there if I wanted to. Wasn’t that handy, honey? That he had a nice, quiet place for us to go to when we left the club?”
“Yes!” I listened to her words with almost a sense of surrealism – as if she was talking about someone else.
“I had to be a little sneaky, honey. I didn’t want Debbie and her sister and god knows who else seeing me leave with him – so I told him to meet me outside the club in fifteen minutes.”
“And did you?” I quavered.
“Yes – I did. Ten minutes later I went and told Debbie that I was heading home early. Jason was waiting for me outside. He knew I had my car there, and he told me to follow him back to the house. And follow him I did. I pulled into the driveway behind him, and then we went inside.”
“Did you kiss him, Angie?” I gasped shrilly
“After we got inside? Yes – I did.”
I choked back another long moan.
“He made us a drink,” my wife continued, “And we sat on the couch for a bit, just talking – and then we just kissed. He was a good kisser, too, lover.”
I could feel a rivulet of her pussy juice trickling warmly down my balls as her pelvis continued to massage my cock inside of her enveloping cunt.
“Jesus, what happened then?” I screeched.
“He asked me if I wanted to go up to the bedroom, honey.”
“Did you go?” I gargled.
“Of course I did!”
“Did you let him fuck you?” I almost screamed.
Angela looked down at me, her green eyes sparkling in the low lamplight. “And what if I did let him fuck me? Is that okay, baby?”
“YES! I want you to!” I blurted
“Then you’re in luck – because he did fuck me, baby. He fucked me hard. So, lover? You’re now a cuckold – for real – just like you always wanted!”
I let out a long, carnal moan! Little waves of almost perverse pleasure darted back and forth inside of me like little electric shocks. She had done it – she had really cucked me!
I saw Angela reaching into her jacket, and she brought forth her large leather purse; she snapped it open and withdrew the box of condoms. Without another word, she opened it up and pulled out a plastic strip. She smiled down at me and turned it towards me; the rubber rings lay curled snugly next to eachother under their see-through coating – except for one empty socket, where the plastic had been roughly torn open.
“See, honey? I told you that I might need them,” My wife winked at me.
Another molten wave of almost masochistic pleasure danced through me. I gazed at the packet. “OH JESUS, JESUS!” I almost wailed.
My wife tossed to packet to the floor, and her eyes glittered. “Do you wanna hear what happened next, baby?”
“Jesus, yes! Please tell me!”
Angela giggled again. “Tell you? Oh, no, honey. I won’t tell you…”
She reached into the inside pocket on the other side of her jacket.
“That’s my little surprise, honey – my little plan worked. I won’t tell you…” Here she paused for an agonising few seconds. “Instead? You’ll hear what happened.”
She withdrew her hand from the inside of her jacket, and she held aloft the silver micro-cassette recorder that she sometimes used at work when she wanted to take spoken notes about an order, or to record a quick memo to herself. It suddenly struck me what she had done.
She had recorded the sounds of her cuckolding Me.
I felt another wave of scintillating, almost perverse pleasure tear along my loins.
Angela flashed her teasing smile and glanced down at me. “Is that okay, baby? I turned the recorder on when I went to use his bathroom, and I just popped it back in my jacket – just before he took me up to the bedroom, lover. I hung my jacket on the handle of the wardrobe beside the bed,” She winked down at me. “Do you want to hear him fucking me? I rewound it in the car to exactly the moment when he’s just about to slide his cock into me. Want to listen, lover?
“OH MY GOD – YES!” I screamed. My wife’s creamy pussy suddenly clenched a little tighter around my glans, and I could feel a building orgasm begin to flutter in my loins.
Angela uttered another soft giggle and placed the little recorder on the bed beside me. I turned my head to see her raise the volume up to full. She quickly slipped off her black jacket and tossed it to the floor, and she then pressed the ‘Play’ button on the silver recorder.
The tinny hiss of playback leapt forth. The little speaker suddenly rang with a soft feminine sigh. Angela’s voice!
“He’s just about to put it inside me, baby – listen.” Her pelvis rocked back and forth like a happy boat in a rough swell. My limp cock nestled into her steamy cunt even deeper.
I listened, shaking and trembling, and then I heard voices.
Angela: Ahh! Oh, Jesus, yeah! Put it in!
Angela: Oooooh! YEAH! Oh, shit, it’s so BIG!
Jason: God, you’re wet!
Angela: Fuck me! Fuck me, Jason!
A thin slapping sound issued from the little speaker – the solid, sharp collision of skin against skin.
“Mmm…” the real Angela softly said. “He’s starting to fuck me, honey.”
The tinny slapping sped slightly, and I could hear the thin creaking of bedsprings adding to the rhythmic erotic pulse:
Angela: Arrrrgh, that’s it, Jason! Give it to me!
Jason: Spread your legs a bit more… YEAH, like that! – wide open for me…
I could hear the wet smacking of lips adding to the rising tumult; they were kissing passionately as they were coupling: Smack!… Crick!… Smack!… Slurp! The bedsprings chipped in at a slightly higher tone: Squeak!… Squeak!… Squeak!… Squeak! Angela’s voice rang from the recorder again:
Angela: Fuck me!… Fuck me HARD!
Jason: Christ, you’re so fuckin’ hot, Angie!
Angela: Am I nice and tight for you?
Jason: Yeah! – you’re SO tight! Christ, you’ve got a gorgeous body!
Angela: Mmm, thank you! And you have such a big, hard cock!
Angela lifted her hips slightly and took my drenched cock between her fingers. She then started to slide the soft head rapidly back and forth between the lips of her pussy. The sensation literally took my breath away; I glanced up at her beautiful face, and I was stunned to see my own lust reflected in her expression. I realised that not only were her ministrations sending waves of ecstasy through me, but she was also stimulating herself by rubbing my glans against her clit.
The squeaking bedsprings on the tape got even louder and faster, and Angela’s cries of passion rose to match. The slap of flesh against flesh became more resonant.
“Listen, lover,” Angela huskily whispered down at me. “Can you hear him fucking me,? Can you hear his balls slapping against my ass? Can you hear him slamming his big, thick, hard cock inside me?”
“Yes!” I screeched. Angela slid my glans back and forth through her labia with even greater fervor. I could feel the orgasm which had been circling for the last few minutes building inside me. I moaned loudly again and listened to my wife cuckolding me!
Angela’s glazed eyes peered down at me again. “Listen, Michael! Very soon, I’m gonna say something very bitchy, and I want you to hear it!”
I listened intently to the tape; sure enough, a few seconds later I heard Angela’s encouraging moans and gasps cease as she spoke again:
Angela: Oh my GOD, Jason! It feels so good! You’re so good… So BIG! You fuck me so much better than my husband!
Jason: Do I, Sexy?
Angela: Jesus, yeah! Do you like fucking my married pussy?
Jason: Fuck, yeah!
Angela: Give to me!… GIVE IT TO ME! Awww, JESUS!… it’s been so long since I had a big, hard cock in me!… Please make me CUM!
Jason: I’m going to! I’ll make you fuckin’ cum, alright!
I tilted my head back and screamed. Hearing Angela say this to her young lover was simply the most carnal, erotic and totally lascivious thing I had ever heard! Climax suddenly jumped closer, and a delicious warmth spread up my thighs. The oily friction of Angela’s creamy cunt rippled through me as she rubbed the head of my cock against her clit. I even felt a slither of pre-cum leak from me, adding to her own creamy secretions. The sheer carnality of what was happening tore a path through me.
I stared up at my wife’s beautiful face. She tilted her head back and emitted a soft moan. Her gaze slid down to me again. “It’s so hot to hear what he’s doing to me, baby!” she gasped. “He’s gonna make me cum!”
My own orgasm rippled and danced even closer as I listened to the grunts and moans and the squeaking bedsprings that issued from the recorder. Tendrils of heat worked their way into my loins as unctuous waves of ecstasy jolted through me like a million needles. Angela’s pants and cries of lust pouring from the little speaker filled my mind; I listened to her, silently urging her to cum – I wanted to hear her lustful moans flood the room, to listen to her climax as she cuckolded me!
On the tape. Angela was beseeching her lover:
Angela: YEAH!… KEEP GOING, BABY!… OHHH, JASON!… I’M GONNA CUM!… PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME!… PLEASE!
Jason: Jesus, your so fuckin’ HOT!… CUM for me! Cream my fuckin’ cock!
Angela! Ohhhh!… OHHHHHH!… YES!… YES!… OHHHHH, JESUS, NOW!… NOW!… I’M CUMING!… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I could feel Angela’s hips shaking as she listened to herself climax. My loins went white hot as the recorded Angela wailed and moaned. I teetered on the brink, the tension in my lower body almost tightening to snapping point! On the tape, I heard a further exchange that pushed me over the edge!
Jason: Argh, Jesus, I’m gonna blow!
Angela: DO IT! CUM FOR ME, BABY! CUM!
Jason: Oh, fuck! OH, FUCK HERE IT COMES! ARRRRRGH!
I climaxed just as Jason’s own orgasmic celebration flooded the room. I could feel my semen trickling out of my soft cock like molten lead, coating Angela’s creamy pussy lips and clitoris. I unleashed a moan like I had never done before as climax rippled through me, jerking my body in an uncontrollable convulsion. Angela kept sliding my glans rapidly against her clit, moaning and gasping.
She looked down at me. “Jesus, Michael! I need to cum! Please lick me! PLEASE!”
Even through my orgasmic daze, I realised I had never seen her so excited. Without hesitation I slid my hands under her thighs and cupped her ass cheeks, and pulled her up towards me. She hurriedly made her way up my body on her knees until her drenched cunt hovered over my face. She lowered her pelvis with a grateful moan, and the pussy I had licked and worshiped and adored for almost five beautiful years – the pussy that just a couple of hours ago had accommodated another man’s hard, throbbing cock, making me a true cuckold, the pussy that I had just coated with my own heady release – that pussy sank wetly onto my eager mouth.
She unleashed a sharp moan as I quickly found her clit and sucked it. Angela’s warm upper thighs clutched at the sides of my face as she ground her cunt firmly down onto me.
Angela moaned loudly. “OHHH, Yeah!… Suck it!… Suck it!… SUCK IT, SUCK IT, SUCK IT!”
In seconds her thighs gave a violent shudder, and she let out a long howl of ecstasy as her own orgasm pulsed though her loins. I sucked and sucked and sucked. My hands cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her erupting cunt deeper onto me.
My only thought as I began to swallow her rich cream was that after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again…
‘Dear Cuckold,’ began the note in Angela’s flowing script.
It was the following Tuesday morning after Angela’s jaunt to the hen’s night and her subsequent coupling with Jason. I had just made my way down to the garage, and as I opened the car door, I noticed a slip of paper laying on the steering wheel. I felt my stomach flutter as I settled into the driver’s seat and pulled the car door closed behind me with a dull thud. The note lay innocuously on the steering wheel before me like a slumbering flounder. The garage was in semi-darkness, illuminated only by two small windows mounted above the closed garage doors behind my car. With fluttering fingers I gingerly picked up the slip of paper and turned on the car’s interior light so I could read Angela’s message more clearly:
‘I hope that you don’t mind me calling you “Cuckold”, but I guess it’s the truth, isn’t it, honey? *sexy giggle* Of course, if “Cuckold” is too formal, I can soon shorten it to “Cuckie”, or even just plain ol’ “Cuck”. Let me know which one you prefer, lover! *grin* For now I’ll run with “Cuckie! – think of it as a term of endearment!”
‘Anyway, I just wrote you this brief letter because I wanted to tell you that last Friday night was very erotic, and I’m glad that you enjoyed it so much, and that it was everything that you thought it would be. I know it’s been a fantasy of yours for so long to imagine another man taking me, and I loved being able to bring it to life for you. I also loved all the little talks we’ve had about it since, and I now know a lot more about how it makes you feel when I’m being so deliciously naughty! *sexy grin*
‘Of course I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy it too, Cuckie. As I’ve told you (and as you heard on the tape), I did enjoy being “unfaithful” to you, and to be able to take a lover – especially one so young and hot as Jason! I’d forgotten just how good it feels to be “filled”, lover – to be properly fucked again! And yes, Jason DID have a bigger cock than your lil’ soft one! *teasing giggle!*
‘OH! By the way, you didn’t see me dress for work this morning – but I have to tell you that I’m wearing stockings and suspenders today, and this morning I also shaved my pussy into that neat little bikini line that you love so much! I’m also wearing those see-through panties that make you drool! So just think about what’s underneath my skirt while I’m out working today – I’m sure a lot of other men will be doing the same when they see me! *wink!*
‘Now Cuckie, since last weekend we’ve talked a lot about what I did with Jason, and you’ve told me how much you’d have loved to have actually been able to watch me with him – especially if you have to watch while those nasty pills are stopping your poor little pecker from getting hard! *evil grin* Well, being the wicked girl that I am, I’ve thought of one way that you could sit there and do just that! Would you really like to see some hunky young guy fucking me, Cuckie? Would you really like to watch as some hot stud gives your wife a good seeing-to, and gives me the deep, hard fucking that you can’t? *teasing giggle* If so, then turn the page and read on!’
I felt my balls contract, and my jaw slowly dropped as I flipped the note over and read the next few paragraphs. How long had it taken my wife to dream this up, I wondered. I sat thinking for a few seconds; what Angela was proposing in the note was quite feasible – all too feasible, in fact! The familiar carnal buzz slithered into my loins; I found that I was just as excited by her seeming willingness to once again cuckold me as by her plan to enable me to watch her doing so! My hands began trembling as I turned my attention back to her note.
‘So Cuckie – what do you think of my idea? I know it would take a little work and money to set up, but not too much. Of course,would have to pay for the things needed, but I think it’s an exquisitely kinky twist that you would essentially work and pay for the privilege of watching your unfaithful wife getting her horny little ass fucked off, hmm? *wicked grin* Besides – you’ve already told me that you’re getting bored at home, so preparing for my little idea would be one way to occupy your time, huh? *wink!* Just think of it as a way for you not to be bored at home by preparing to watch me get “bored” at home! *teasing laugh*
‘Oh! One thing I forgot to mention… In your kinky little dream where you lost me in a poker game, you had to sit there unable to move as you watched another man have me. I know that the idea of you being immobilised as I let another man take me really turned you on, and there’s a way I can make that happen too, if you really want to try it. Just imagine – you not only watching some other hot guy fucking me, but also being unable to STOP him from fucking me, even if you wanted to! Does that turn your crank and make your limp little dickie tingle, honey? *evil grin* Here’s how I’d do it…’
I hungrily read the next few paragraphs, and my heart raced faster. Jesus, even that part was all too feasible! I realised I was panting slightly as I came to the last part of the note. A sympathetic quiver seemed to dart through my cock.
‘Well, lover? I know that you’re probably reading this just after breakfast. Give me a call on my mobile phone at around lunchtime today and let me know what you think! In the meantime, take good care and know that I love you very, very much! *cheeky grin* – even if you are my flaccid little Cuckold! *wink*
Your loving (and very naughty!) Wife!
P.S. When I get home from work tonight, you’re going to LICK ME! *sexy grin!*’
I glanced up from the note and stared through the windscreen at the rear wall that separated the garage from Angela’s gym – realising as I did so that she had left the note in this particular location as a subtle message. I realised I was shaking as I sat behind the steering wheel, the note in my left hand and the car keys dangling from my right, and my cock sending inquiring tendrils along my loins. This wasn’t going to be a regular Tuesday morning
I began to imagine what it would be like to put Angela’s evil little scheme into action; to be able to watch her beautiful face cloud with pleasure as another man’s cock slid hungrily into her warm, wet pussy; to see her long, sexy legs wrapped around another man’s back as she coupled with him, imploring him to take her, to penetrate her, to fuck her. I imagined it just as she had described in her note, with me immobilised and helpless to interfere or prevent my wife from cuckolding me right before my eyes! I uttered a soft moan, and I realised that my right hand had drifted down to my crotch – the metal car keys clicking softly as my forefinger caressed the head of my flaccid cock through my jeans…
I blinked and took a deep breath, and shook myself out of the looming erotic daze. The carnal buzz tingled through me like a determined mosquito. I folded Angela’s note and placed it in the glove box, and activated the remote control to open the garage door. I started the car as daylight flooded the garage. I made a mental note to drop into the hardware store and the electronics shop after I had finished the grocery shopping this morning.
At around lunchtime I dialed Angela’s mobile phone. After several rings she answered: “Hello?”
“Hi, hun,” I replied into the telephone receiver. “It’s me.”
“Hi baby! How you doing?”
“Fine, babe,” I told her. “Shopping’s all done, and I’m back home again. How’s work going?”
“Not too bad at all, sweetie. I’m running ahead of schedule today, which makes a change.”
“Glad to hear it,” I replied. I cleared my throat. “I got your note, by the way.”
Angela uttered a soft chuckle. “I figured you would, honey.”
“Can you talk freely about it now, or are you busy?” I asked.
“No, I can talk, baby – I’m sat in the car. I just pulled up in High street to grab some lunch.”
“Okay, good. Now tell me – how the hell did you think up that plan?”
Her tinkling laugh echoed down the phone line. “I told you, lover – I’m wicked!” She laughed again. “So – do you like it?”
“Actually, I do,” I said softly. “I guess it would be one way to see you… well, you know.”
“To see me with another man, lover?” Angela gave a low giggle. “It would be – if that’s what you really want. I kinda added in everything you told me that would drive you insane, and that’s what I came up with.”
“It would drive me insane, alright,” I agreed softly. “I went to the hardware store this morning and made a few inquiries about what we would need to put your little scheme into effect.”
“Ah – you are an eager beaver! Can you get everything that we want?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “They told me they have can have everything I need in two or three days – they have to order some of the stuff, but they’ve got most of it there already. I also talked to the guy in the electronics shop, and he has everything we would need in stock right now.” I cleared my throat again. “There’s a few other items in your letter that we wont be able to get around here -”
Angela cut me off. “I know what things you’re talking about, honey. Don’t worry – I’ll pick those up myself while I’m in town, so scratch them off your list.” Angela’s lewd chuckled floated down the phone line again. “So, lover – there’s no reason why my little plan won’t work?”
“No reason at all,” I agreed. My pulse quickened.
I could almost picture Angela’s grin as she replied: “Okay, honey – how long will it take you to make the alterations?”
“Not long. A week maybe, but probably less. There’s only two major modifications, and after that it’s all minor stuff – as you pointed out in your letter.” In some ways I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation.
“So you could have everything ready by the weekend after next?” Angela asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Once I get the all the hardware and material, it won’t take long at all.”
“Okay, baby,” Angela said. She paused for a second or two. “Are you sure that you wanna go through with this?”
I swallowed. “Yes – I am. It would be incredibly hot to watch you – to me, anyway.”
“Well then, lover? Why don’t you order what you need to, and we’ll do it.” Her voice took on a teasing tone. “How much will it all cost, Michael?”
“All up? About seventeen hundred dollars. Maybe a little more.”
Angela gave a short giggle, and her voice took on a playful edge. “Aww, that’s a lot of money to spend, baby – just so you can watch some frisky young stud slide his hard, throbbing cock deep inside me… Are you sure you wanna spend that much… Cuckie?”
“Jesus Christ!” I gasped. “Yes!” My grip on the phone tightened. I could hear the click of Angela’s cigarette lighter and the intake of her breath.
“By the way – did you like the tone of my note, lover?” she asked. “Kinda bitchy, wasn’t I?”
“Yeah, you were,” I replied shakily.
“But you don’t mind me being a nasty little bitch, do you?”
“You know I don’t!”
Angela chuckled quietly again and changed tack slightly. “And what name do you prefer, hmm? Cuckold, Cuckie, or Cuck?”
I gulped. “Cuckie.”
“Mmm, my little Cuckie it is, then! You are my little cuckold, aren’t you?”
“You know what? If I were really bitchy, I’d call you my little, soft-dicked cuckold, wouldn’t I? Or – even better – if I was parked somewhere a little quieter than this busy street, do you know what I’d do right now? I’d reach down and start fingering myself, and make you listen to me over the phone. I might even start moaning Jason’s name as I teased my hard button, Cuckie. Imagine that, Michael – me sat in my car, reaching under my skirt and caressing my warm, juicy pussy and stroking my hard little clit as you listened… hearing me panting and moaning softly, and finally hearing me gasp Jason’s name when I cum… Mmm, yummy!”
I nearly dropped the phone. “Oh… My… God!”
Angela’s sensual giggle caressed my ear. “Aww, I’m sorry baby! I couldn’t resist – and I know how much my nasty little bitch mode drives you insane!”
“Jesus, I want you!” I panted.
“And I want you!” my wife replied earnestly. “And I meant what I said at the end of that note – tonight you’re going to lick me when I get home, aren’t you.” Her reply was a statement, not a question.
“For hours!” I affirmed shakily. “I want you to cum in my mouth over and over!”
Angela’s throaty chuckle tinkled. “Then get ready for a long night, honey! Of course, if you aren’t up to the job, I bet I could always find someone else who fancies a serving of hot, steamy tacos!”
I answered with a half-suppressed groan, and Angela laughed.
“Jesus, I’m sorry baby!” she said. “I really can’t help picking at you – you’re so cute when you’re frisky! I’ll behave myself – until I get home at least. Then you’ll be in a lot more trouble.”
“I can’t wait,” I half panted.
“Me either. Well, baby, I’d better go get some lunch, and then hit the road again. I should be home around the usual time, or hopefully a little earlier. Take good care, okay baby? I love you, Michael.”
“I love you too, Angie. Drive safe, okay?”
“I will. See you tonight, lover! OH! Before I go?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“In my little letter I kinda told you a little white lie about the panties I’m wearing today. I’m not really wearing the see-through ones, baby…”
“Nope,” Angela confirmed. “I’m not wearing any panties! ‘Bye, lover!” With a final giggle, she hung up.
I gave a light gasp and stared at the receiver. I should have known there’d be a wicked parting shot; I know my wife far too well. I pressed the receiver button until I got a dial tone and punched in a new number. After two rings a nasally voice said: “Good afternoon, Reynolds hardware – Trevor speaking.”
“G’day Trevor,” I replied. “I was in there this morning making some inquiries about some material I need for a renovation project, and I would like to confirm the order if I could…?”
On Tuesday afternoon of the next week I was putting the penultimate touches to the alterations outlined in Angela’s plan. I had always taken pride in my work, and this was no exception, regardless of how bizarre the real purpose of the renovations would seem to an outsider. I had attacked the task with gusto, and as the job approached completion the carnal buzz loitering in my loins intensified. The sole purpose of the work was, after all, to allow me to watch my beautiful wife cuckolding me. I couldn’t help but smile at the strange irony of it.
Angela had watched with interest as the work progressed. She had gently refused to masturbate me for the last week, telling me that it would heighten my arousal to wait until she could enact her lascivious scheme. Her refusal to indulge me didn’t dampen her own cravings, however; almost as if her own excitement was rising as the prospect of carrying out her kinky plan approached, she had me perform cunnilingus on her with increasing frequency – something I was only too happy to do.
To add to my bitter-sweet dilemma, Angela would verbally tease me as I pleased her, looking down at me and telling me things like: “Mmm, lick my pussy slowly, lover. Just think – in a few days some other man is going to slide his hard cock exactly where your eager little tongue is right now – and you won’t be able to stop him! You’ll just have to helplessly sit there and watch him fuck me! Maybe I’ll have to get you to shave me so I’m nice and smooth for him, hmm, Cuckie?”
You can perhaps guess why the evil little buzz had heightened to new levels in the last week.
The next afternoon I finished the last of the painting, and the renovations were finally complete. Angela and I tested my handiwork, and everything worked just as it was supposed to. Angela had even written out a checklist for just about every contingency she could imagine, and I had to admire her devious and thorough planning. When we were finished discussing what would occur, a soft half-smile flooded her face.
“So, lover – when do you wanna put my little plan into action?”
I felt my stomach flutter. “As soon as you want.”
“Well, you have you last appointment with Rogers this Friday, don’t you?”
I nodded. “Yeah – at least I hope it’s the last damned appointment.” With any luck, I was optimistic that Mr. Rogers would give me the all clear to cease taking those fucking pills.
“Okay,” my wife continued. “How about if I was able to set something up this Friday night, lover? Would you like that?”
I nodded again. I could feel my balls tighten, and that familiar, almost queasy, ripple of masochistic excitement slid warmly into my loins. “So what will you do?” I asked tentatively. “Go out to a club again?”
My wife grinned. “No, lover – I have a better idea. I told you that Jason gave me his telephone number, didn’t I? What if I was to give him a call and tell him that I may be free on Friday night?”
I swallowed. “You could do that, I guess.” I croaked.
Angela gave a throaty chuckle. “I’m sure I could, lover. So what if I was to call him tonight and see if he’d be free to take me out Friday for dinner, and also tell him that my hubby has gone interstate again, and that I’m all alone and need some company, and maybe a little hot lovin’, hmm?”
“Jesus Christ,” was all I could gasp.
“Of course,” Angela continued smoothly. “It’d be very handy if you arranged to take your car in to get the shock absorbers replaced on Friday afternoon, and left it there overnight – just like we talked about. That way Jason wouldn’t see your car in the garage, would he? He’d think that your car was parked at the airport, and that you’d be unlikely to intrude on us.” My wife flashed me a salacious wink.
I swallowed again and nodded, almost hypnotized. She slid her arms around my neck and kissed me. I am sure she could feel me trembling.
“Michael?” she asked. “I’m going to ask you this one last time – you’re absolutely sure that you want me to do this?”
“Yes,” I croaked. “I want you to do it – I want to see you…”
“Okay, sweetie,” she replied softly. “I’ll give Loverboy a call later tonight. I’ll let him know that I’ll be free this Friday night, and see if he wants to join me for dinner somewhere. If we hook up, then I’ll also let him know that we can come back here for a nightcap, seeing as my hubby won’t be disturbing us.”
“Jesus Christ!” I half moaned.
My wife’s smile widened slightly. “Getting hot thinking about what you might see Friday night, lover?”
“You know I am!”
“Oh, that I do,” she cooed, and then wrinkled her nose. “Now Lover, you’d better go in for a shower – you reek of paint!”
I sent her a grin, and kissed her, and did as she asked.
After I had showered and dressed, I made my way to the lounge room to find my wife sat watching TV. She smiled as I settled onto the couch beside her.
“I made a phone call while you were showering, baby.” she announced suggestively.
My heart fluttered. “Yeah?” By her soft smile I had an inkling of what was coming.
“I called Jason. He said that he’d be only too pleased to take me out to dinner this Friday night. He did have other plans, but he said he’d cancel for me.”
I swallowed. “So it’s really going to happen at the end of this week?”
“Yes, lover – in about forty-eight hours, in fact. I told him that hubby wouldn’t be home until Saturday, and that we could come back here after dinner – if he wanted.”
“What did he say?” I asked breathlessly.
“He said that’d be great,” replied my wife. Angela’s tone became playful. “He sounded very keen, actually. Do you think he wants a repeat of the other Saturday night, lover?”
“I’m sure he does,” I answered in a tight voice. What red-blooded male wouldn’t fancy taking Angela to bed again?
My wife chuckled gently. “Well, it’s all arranged, baby. Tomorrow night, I want us to do a dry-run – a kind of rehearsal, just to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied softly. “That’s probably a good idea.” The carnal buzz had just skyrocketed inside me.
Angela could obviously see the reaction that her disclosure had produced in me, and she flipped me a salacious smile. “Are you going to enjoy watching him fuck me on Friday, Cuckie?”
Unable to answer, I simply nodded.
Angela’s smile broadened: “Don’t worry, Cuckie – I’ll make sure that you see everything. I’ll make sure that you finally get to see every little part of your biggest fantasy becoming fulfilled – I promise you.” Angela’s eyes flashed at me. “Mmm, all this naughty talk is making me frisky. Why don’t you slide my panties off from under my skirt, baby – and then plunge your delicious little tongue deep inside my hot, wet cunt?”
I thought she’d never ask!
The next evening – Thursday – we did as Angela suggested, and went through a rehearsal of her little scheme; everything went smoothly, and I was once more impressed by my wife’s devilish attention to detail. She had thought of every possible contingency, and as far as I could see she left nothing to chance. We checked and tested the alterations and additions that I had made, and everything worked perfectly.
Angela finally seemed satisfied that everything would go according to plan tomorrow night, and we finally called it a night.
Later, as we lay in bed, I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about what was going to happen tomorrow night. I could feel the delicious carnal buzz swirling and dancing in the pit of my stomach. My cock seemed to be constantly tingling, and my balls felt full and heavy, and ached slightly. Angela, of course, had sensed my arousal.
“You thinking about tomorrow night, baby?” she asked softly.
I nodded. “Of course I am, sexy.”
“Making you hot?”
“I bet you want to lick my pussy, don’t you?”
“Jesus Christ, yes!”
Angela simply smiled and shook her head. “Not tonight, lover. I want both of us nice and frisky tomorrow night – so tonight I’ll give your eager little tongue a rest.” Her tone was playful, but I knew that she meant what she said. I gave what was a half-hearted moan.
Angela giggled. “Don’t worry, Cuckie. Tomorrow night I’ll make sure that the wait is well worth it! Trust me.”
Mr. Rogers smiled benignly at me from behind his desk. “Well, I can honestly say that it appears everything has healed completely – you should be as good as new. You can stop taking all medication from now on.”
“Thank Christ,” I muttered. “How long before everything’s back to normal?”
“Not long at all,” replied Mr. Rogers. “The medication should be out of your system in about forty-eight hours or so – maybe a little longer.”
He picked up a silver pen and flourished it like a magic wand. “I do have to stress, however, that you will need to take things easy for several more weeks. Just make sure that you don’t overdo any sexual activity for a few more weeks – just take things nice and easy.”
I nodded, and the consultation wound up with Mr. Rogers offering several more nuggets of advice. I thanked him for all of his help, and soon departed.
On my way back from my consultation with Mr. Rogers I dropped my car off at the local garage to get the shock absorbers replaced – as per Angela’s suggestion. The manager told me it would be ready to pick up Saturday afternoon, and then graciously arranged to have one of the apprentice mechanics drive me home; there are advantages to being a frequent customer.
The afternoon passed slowly, and I found myself pensively awaiting Angela’s return from work. She arrived home just after 5:00pm, and I told her all about my consultation with Mr. Rogers. She whooped in delight when I told her that he had given me a clean bill of health, and that I could now stop taking the pills that were keeping me flaccid.
“Do you still want to carry on with our plan tonight, lover?” she asked me.
I nodded. “More than ever.” I found myself answering.
Angela smiled softly. “Okay, honey! I have to meet Jason at a bar in town at around 7:00pm, and then we’ll head off to a restaurant, okay?”
I silently nodded. Angela glanced at her wristwatch.
“Jesus, I had better start getting ready. It’s gonna take me forty-five minutes or so to drive into town, so I better go shower now, baby – okay?”
“Sure, hun,” I replied. My mouth felt suddenly dry. Angela flashed me a sexy smile, kissed me, and then headed off to shower.
When she reappeared, she was dressed in a shortish (but not too short) beige skirt, a black blouse and a matching black jacket. She had once again spent a little extra time on her hair and make-up, and I could see that her legs were freshly shaven and smooth as silk. She saw me glancing at her, and she playfully pirouetted.
“Do I look okay, baby?” she asked.
“You look fucking great,” I replied honestly.
Angela grinned. “Thank you, honey! By the way – this time I am wearing those skimpy see-through panties under my skirt, and the matching bra.”
“Are you now?” I asked, my throat tight.
“Yes, lover. But I’m sure that you’ll see all that in a few hours as you watch me undress for Jason…”
“Jesus Christ!” I gasped.
Angela uttered a sexy chuckle. “Aww, I don’t mean to pick at you, honey – but I do love how it makes you squirm!” She giggled.
“It does more than make me squirm,” I replied huskily.
“I have no doubt, lover,” my wife told me. She glanced at her wristwatch. “Well, baby, I had better be heading off soon. You know exactly what to do when you get my call later tonight?”
“Okay, hun. Also don’t forget to leave the lights in the house off – at least the ones that can be seen from the street; we don’t want any unexpected visitors, do we? That would really make things kind of interesting! And make sure to put the answering machine on – just let the machine pick up and take the call as if nobody’s home. If there are any problems, then call my cell phone right away, okay?”
I nodded again. Angela had previously called all of the people who were most likely to turn up at our house unexpectedly; the calls had ostensibly been just for a chat, but Angela had also offhandedly let them know that ‘we’ were going to be out Friday night. This would mean that nobody should drop in unexpectedly whilst Angela was acting on her carnal little plan. Keeping the house lights off and the telephone answering machine on would reinforce the ruse. Fortunately our house was well shielded from our neighbors by trees, and they weren’t the nosy type anyway.
Angela approached me, and wrapped her slim arms around my neck. Her warm perfume enveloped me, and my cock gave a twinge.
“I’d better head off now, baby. You gonna be okay here?”
“Yeah,” I replied tightly.
“Okay, hun. Just stick to the plan, and I promise you the most erotic, exciting and kinky night of your life, okay?”
I drew a sharp breath and found that I could simple nod.
Angela smiled and kissed me deeply. Her warm, moist tongue slithered between my lips, and I felt my legs go weak. She broke the kiss after several seconds, and withdrew. She picked up her leather purse and slipped it into her jacket, and retrieved her car keys from the kitchen bench.
“Well, hun,” she said. “I had better get going.
“Okay, babe,” I almost croaked in reply.
“I should be back here anywhere from 9:30pm onwards, ok?”
My wife gave me a sexy smile. “Alright – let’s do this, honey! Take care tonight, Michael, and know that I love you!”
“I love you, too,” I replied huskily.
She gave my another brief kiss and then headed toward the front door. She opened it and turned to me. “While I’m out, lover? Just think about what you heard on that tape two weeks ago – and imagine seeing it actually happen in just a few hours!” With a final sexy wink, she was gone. The front door closed with a thud of finality.
I listened to her high-heels clicking their way down the front steps. The muffled bark of her car soon floated through the front window, and I watched her reverse down the driveway, and then drive off. I walked over and closed the front curtains.
It had begun.
For the second time in just two weeks I felt the growing erotic angst building in me as I waited. The house slowly grew dark as the sun sank, and I didn’t turn on any lights. I had retreated into the kitchen – which was at the rear of the house – and was sat watching the small portable TV. I briefly wondered if the need to keep the house completely dark was overkill – but I could see Angela’s point; we didn’t get many unannounced visitors, but certainly from time to time someone dropped in unexpectedly. To have a surprise guest tonight would possibly be disastrous, so I could understand Angela’s concerns.
My mobile phone trilled at just before 8:50pm. My heart gave a double thump when I saw it was Angela calling from her own mobile phone. I answered with trembling fingers.
“Hiya, sexy,” my wife smoothly greeted me, sotto voice.
“Hi, hun,” I replied. My voice sounded as tight as I felt.
“I can’t talk for long, lover,” Angela continued in a whisper. “I’m calling from the ladies room at the restaurant, so I’ll be brief. We are just about to leave now, and we should be there in about forty-five minutes. Jason will follow me home, so what I’m going to do is call you when I’m about ten minutes away. That will give you plenty of time to do what you have to do, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied shakily.
“Cool,” Angela said. “After that, I’ll do exactly what we planned, okay?”
“Yeah, I understand.”
I heard my wife’s sultry giggle. “You starting to shake, my frisky lover?”
“Jesus, yes!” I replied huskily.
“Good – I want you very, very horny when me and Loverboy get there. Tonight I’m going to make all your hottest fantasies come to life.”
“Oh, Christ!” I almost yelped.
Angela’s languid voice became playful. “Is your tiny dick still soft, my little Cuckie?”
I swallowed – hard! “Yes!”
“Well, that’s okay, Cuckie. I wont be needing your little pecker tonight, will I? Jason’s long, thick, hard cock will do just nicely – as you will see in just over an hour!”
“Oh my God!” I gasped.
Angela’s throaty chuckle tinkled through the phone. “Well, Cuckie, I am going to have to head off. Get ready for my call at about -” a short pause while I assumed she checked her wristwatch. “- nine-thirty, okay? You know what to do when I call.”
“Uh-huh,” was all I could stammer.
“Okay – I’d better go, as Jason is waiting. Talk soon, my little Cuckold! Love you!” With a final giggle, the line went dead.
I stood looking at my mobile phone, panting and feeling my pulse skyrocket. I had no doubt that the next forty minutes or so would be the longest on my entire life.
I was right.
My mobile phone trilled at just before 9:30pm. In my now hyper-wired state I jumped at the electronic warbling. I could see it was Angela calling.
“Hi, honey,” she announced. I could hear the rumble of the car coming through the receiver. “I’m just getting off the freeway and Jason is right behind me in his car, so we’ll be pulling into the driveway in about ten minutes. It’s probably a good time to go downstairs, my little Cuckie!”
I gulped involuntarily. “Jesus, okay,” I replied.
Angela’s sexy low giggle floated through the line. “Are you hot, baby?”
“Hot? I’m way past hot. Jesus, Angie, I’m shaking!” My voice was tight and almost squeaky.
“Mmm, well get ready to shake a little more, Lover – tonight I’m going to make you melt.”
I gave a soft moan in reply.
“Well, sexy,” Angela continued smoothly. “I had best hang up in case Jason is able to see me using the phone, and starts wondering who I’m calling.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“You know what’s gonna happen, so I’ll see you in about twenty minutes or so, okay? But of course you’ll hear us for a little while before then.”
“Uh-huh,” I replied, almost in a trance.
“Talk soon, my little Lover! Or should that be more accurately, my little Cuckie!” With a tinkling giggle, the line went dead.
I arose from the kitchen chair, and I discovered my legs were weak and shaking. I made a last minute check, and then grabbed a small flashlight and turned off the portable TV and the kitchen light. The house was now in complete darkness, and I flipped on the flashlight and made my way downstairs, through the now empty garage and into Angela’s gym room. I closed the door behind me.
I aimed the flashlight at the closed door to the small spare room adjoining Angela’s gym, and I eyed it with a flush of excitement. I walked over and opened the door, and I knew that once I strode inside, I would be pushing the steamier boundaries of sexuality – both mine, and also Angela’s.
I took a shaking breath, opened the door, and walked gingerly inside…
The faint aroma of fresh paint wafted over me as I entered the spare room, and I turned on the ceiling light, and killed the flashlight. This room had only come into existence, as I have previously stated, after I had subdivided the cavernous garage under the main house to create Angela’s gym and this smaller study/spare bedroom. The renovations I had been performing for the last week or so had centered on this room, and I stood for a few seconds taking stock of my handiwork.
The room was now slightly smaller than it was a week ago; this was because I had added a second false wall over the existing partitions between the gym and the garage, and packed the new cavities with several layers of soundproofing insulation. As a result, the two walls separating the spare room from both Angela’s gym and the garage were now over eight inches thick, and effectively sound dampened.
To further sound proof the room, I added a second solid wood door on the inside of the newly widened doorframe, and also fitted thick rubber draft stoppers to the base of both doors. This meant that twin doors now insulated the only entrance to the room – one opening inward and the other opening outwards – both fitted with deadbolts that could only be opened with a key.
On the right-hand-side of the room, I had cut a rectangular hole into the wall separating the room and the gym; the hole was thirty inches wide and twenty-four inches high, and about three feet above the floor. A pair of prefabricated aluminum windows had been fitted into the hole – one behind the other. The windows were sealed and double-glazed units, and in tandem they provided extremely effective sound dampening.
Of course, Angela’s lascivious scheme meant that the new window needed to be disguised when viewed from the gym. I had accomplished this by purchasing and affixing a six-foot tall by three-foot wide one-way mirror over the new observation window. The full-length beveled mirror looked perfectly natural in the gym, and concealed the new window completely.
So – in essence I had made the room into a clandestine and soundproofed observation post from which I could see virtually the whole gym. The one-way mirror mounted on the gym side of the wall hid the little window, and as long as the spare room was dark there was no indication that there was anything unusual lurking behind the mirror.
Last night we had closed both doors, and Angela had listened in the gym whilst I talked quite loudly in the spare room, and she reported that she could hear nothing. Only when I actually yelled could she hear me, and even that was faint. Of course, I wouldn’t be doing any yelling when the time came, but the soundproofing was simply to suppress any noise from involuntary sneezes or coughs (or even gasps) on my part.
The final touches involved my purchases from the electronics store. I had bought four tiny but highly sensitive electret microphones and a four-way mixer/pre-amp. The wiring had perhaps been the trickiest part of the job, but I had successfully installed hidden microphones upstairs in the kitchen and lounge room, and a pair in the adjoining gym. The microphones were then wired into the four-channel mixer, and the subsequent audio signal was sent to a miniature stereo unit. I was thus able to hear everything that went on in the kitchen, lounge room and, of course, the gym.
This, in essence, had been Angela’s scheme: I would remain hidden in the spare room, but able to hear and observe everything she did in the gym with her lover.
I turned and closed the outer door and locked it, and then I closed the inner door as well. I glanced around the room again. It has always contained a single bed and a sturdy wooden desk, and these both remained, but the desk was now pushed against the wall under the new window; on it was perched the audio mixer and the little stereo unit. There was also a pair of thick steel eyelets securely mounted in the middle of the desk, about fifteen inches apart, and a pair of small brass padlocks lay between them. The keys to the little locks were hanging on a clip nailed to the wall.
The office chair pushed under the desk likewise had two strong steel eyelets bolted through two of the heavy leg struts. The only other items on the desk were the leather wrist and ankle cuffs that Angela had bought from an adult store while she was out working. A flutter of apprehensive excitement drifted through me as I eyed these items.
I switched on the mixer and the stereo, and the speakers dutifully responded with the faint tick, tick, tick of the clock upstairs in the lounge room. I gave a final glance around the room, and assured myself that all was in readiness. I turned off the ceiling light, and used the flashlight to guide myself to the office chair. I rolled it out on its castor wheels and seated myself, and I then switched off the flashlight; the room was plunged into total darkness.
I took a deep breath: It had now truly begun in earnest.
The familiar wicked carnal buzz suddenly slithered through me again, seeming to tease me with the fact that in just a few minutes my wife and her lover would be arriving for the sole purpose of engaging in some ostensibly illicit sex. My cock gave a sudden disloyal twinge of glee, as though it greeted the prospect with lascivious delight.
During a previous discussion with Angela, I had raised the moral and ethical aspects of what we were planning to do. Jason was, after all, going to be observed without either his knowledge or his consent.
Angela had been pragmatic: “Look at it this way,” she had told me. “What harm is it going to do? We aren’t going to film him, or take pictures of him, or anything like that. He’ll never know that you were watching, and no harm will be done to anyone.” She had raised her eyebrows and added: “Besides – he has no qualms about coming over here and fucking another man’s wife. Do you think he’s concerned about the ethics of committing, for all intents and purposes, adultery?”
In reply, I had pointed out that she – Angela – had been the one to initiate their liaison, not Jason. Angela had brushed this aside. “Fair enough – but just because I invited him didn’t mean that he had to come. He had a choice, and he chose to accept the opportunity for a roll in the hay with a married woman. I’m not imposing a moral judgment here – I’m just pointing out that Jason is not exactly acting in a morally acceptable or ethical manner himself by bedding another man’s wife. So, as far as I’m concerned, you covertly watching us simply evens up the scales. No more, and no less.”
Whilst I didn’t completely agree with her stance, I did admit that she had a point.
I shook the discussion from my mind, and reached down and pressed the light on my wristwatch: 9:35pm. I could feel my pulse rushing through my ears, and the tick, tick, tick of the lounge room clock provided a staccato background rhythm. A sudden hum issued from the speakers on the desk, which I identified as the fridge in the kitchen kicking in. My loins felt warm and tight, and my cock again gave a poignant twinge. My right hand reached down, and I softly caressed its tip through my jeans. The sensation was delicious, but as usual my limp cock petulantly failed to respond.
Time passed in the pitch-black room. Tension rippled through me more intently with each passing minute.
A faint metallic squeal suddenly issued from the speakers on the desk, and I realised that it was the sound of the garage doors opening. This could only mean that Angela had activated her remote control as she pulled into the driveway. I realised I was holding my breath as the purr of car engines soon drifted through the speakers on the desk. The microphones in the gym were apparently picking up the sounds through the thinner wall that separated the gym from the garage. The rumble of car engines ceased, and the soft slam of two car doors soon followed, and I again heard the squeal of the garage doors as they began to shut. Angela had told me that she would get Jason to park his car beside hers in the garage and then close the doors – mainly to keep his car out of sight in case someone we knew drove past, or decided to call in, despite our best efforts to ensure solitude.
I heard the faint drone of voices drifting into the gym from the garage, but they weren’t clear enough to make out actual words. My heart raced, and I drew a sharp breath. The microphones in the gym picked up the soft thud of footsteps up the garage stairway, and then the microphone in the kitchen relayed the creak of the door into the upstairs hallway stairwell.
I gave a start as Angela’s voice burst clearly forth from the little stereo: “Come in. I’ll just put some lights on.”
A deep male voice replied to her: “Sure.”
“There,” announced Angela. “That’s better. Do you want a drink?”
“Please,” replied Jason. “A light beer if you’ve got one, thanks.”
“I certainly have,” Angela told him. I heard the fridge door wheeze open.
“Wow – you have a really nice house, Angie,” Jason told her.
“Thanks,” my wife replied. “We bought it about three years ago, and we’ve put a lotta work into it.” The loud tinny snap of a beer can being opened made me jump, and this was followed by the soft pop of a cork; I surmised that Angela was getting herself a glass of wine.
“And you’re positive that your husband isn’t going to come home unexpectedly?” Jason asked.
“No, sweetie,” my wife assured him. “He’s in Sydney until tomorrow. And even if he did arrive early, he would call me from the airport – he always calls. Trust me, and relax, sexy! Come sit in the lounge.”
Jason uttered a nervous chuckle, and I soon heard the creak of the lounge suite as the pair apparently seated themselves.
I realised I was trembling as I sat listening, and I spontaneously caressed the tip of my unresponsive cock a little faster through my jeans. My wife and her lover made small talk for several minutes, and then there was a brief silence before I heard the unmistakably lascivious smack of soft, wet lips. The carnal buzz screamed into life as I realised that my wife and her lover were hungrily kissing. Angela, in fact, uttered several muffled moans: “Mmm… Mmmmm…”
I listened, mesmerized as the kiss deepened. The moist smacking noises continued for two or three minutes before Angela’s soft voice drifted from the stereo.
“Jesus, you’re a great kisser, sweetie,” she gently praised.
“It’s the company I’m keeping,” Jason replied suavely.
“Mmm, is that so?” my wife asked playfully.
“Uh-huh,” Jason confirmed. The pair kissed again, and I realised I was now panting slightly as I listened. A soft, almost electric tingle slithered down my loins and into my flaccid cock. The lurid sound of their moist kisses persisted for two or three minutes before the pair again broke their kiss, and they exchange several more soft words.
“Dammit,” I suddenly heard Angela grunt. “I meant to get some more cigarettes on the way home – I’m down to my last one.” This statement was, in fact, right on cue, and my wife continued with her well-rehearsed lines: “Can you do me a favor, Jason? Could you please run down to the service station we passed – back up on the main road – and get me another pack? The service station is the only thing open around here at this time of night. While you’re gone, I’ll get the spa ready for us, like I promised, okay?”
“Sure,” Jason replied. “What brand of cigarettes do you want?”
Angela told him, and then offered to give him some money, which he refused to take. Angela then gave him more detailed directions to the service station. I listened as they made their way back down into the garage. The muffled drone of their voices carried through the gym wall again and into the microphones. I shortly heard the garage door opening, followed by the barking purr of a car engine. The purr slowly dwindled, followed by the garage door shutting again.
Several seconds later the gym door swung open, and I saw Angela’s silhouette in the doorway. Her left hand reached down to the switch for the ceiling light, and suddenly the lights in the gym blazed on. She entered the gym and closed the door behind her. She glanced towards my hiding spot and smiled softly, and strode over to the spa – which was currently devoid of water – and opened taps to begin filling it. The soft tinkle of water drifted through the speakers. My wife turned and then approached the spare room door.
“It’s cool, lover,” she said, knowing I could hear her via the microphones. “He’s gone to get me some smokes, just like we planned. Open the door, baby.”
I arose shakily, switched the light on and opened the inner door, and then unlocked the outer door. My sexy wife strode in, and she kissed me briefly and smiled.
“Everything working okay, baby?” she inquired.
“Yeah – it’s all working fine,” I replied. Even to myself, my voice sounded tight and squeaky, like I had been inhaling helium. “Jesus Christ, just hearing you kiss him, Angie…” My voice trailed off.
Angela’s smile widened lasciviously. “Mmm, that’s just the start, my lover! Now – as you know, we have about eight minutes before he gets back, so let’s get you ready. Sit down in the chair, baby.”
I quickly did as she asked. She seized the ankle cuffs from the table, dropped to her knees, and proceeded to fit the two thick leather straps around my ankles. At the same time I shakily applied one of the smaller cuffs to my left wrist. The leather felt cool and dry on my skin, and I suddenly wondered if any of this was really happening; the whole situation seemed so surreal.
“Move your leg in towards the chair a bit, baby,” Angela directed. I did so, and I heard the click of the steel snap-lock on the ankle cuff. A few seconds later there was a second click, and my ankles were now securely fastened to the two steel eyelets bolted to the chair’s metal leg struts. Angela rose to her feet and rotated the chair so that I faced the desk, and she then pushed the chair forwards on its five castor wheels; my legs slid snugly into the alcove under the desk.
My wife then quickly fastened the remaining cuff on my right wrist. “Put your hands over the metal rings, honey!” she told me, picking up the two padlocks.
I quickly complied, and fifteen seconds later the metal ‘D’ shackles embedded in the thick leather cuffs were padlocked to the two steel eyelets bolted through the desktop. My pulse quickened as I realised that I was now totally immobilised; my wrists were firmly anchored to the heavy desk with little scope for movement, and my ankles were likewise shackled to the chair on which I was sat.
Angela checked the leather straps to make sure that they were adjusted properly. She finally straightened, and she tilted her head as she glanced down at me.
“There!” she announced demurely. “All locked up, my lover! You won’t be moving from there for a while – just like in your kinky dream! Now – one final thing to do…” She reached into my shirt pocket and retrieved my mobile phone, and placed it into the palm of my right hand.
“Okay, lover – all set!” she told me. “You have my mobile number on speed dial, and you’ll know when to call me – just wait for the signal, okay?” Her voice had a sharp edge to it, and her eyes flashed with excitement. She glanced at her wristwatch. “We still have five or six minutes or so before Jason gets back, and I told him to ring my mobile phone when he gets close so I can open the garage door for him. Are you ready to watch the show, my little Cuckie?”
The carnal buzz screamed through me once again. “Jesus, yeah, I’m ready!” I replied huskily, looking up at her beautiful face.
“You all hot and horny, my little Cuckold?”
“Fuck, yes!” I gasped. “Christ, you’re really going to do this, aren’t you!” I asked needlessly.
Angela giggled that soft, sexy giggle. “Mmm, yes I am, Cuckie! Right in front of you, and in about fifteen minutes. And you’re going to sit here – unable to move – and watch everything. You’re going to watch me kiss him, and stroke his big, hard cock, and take him into my mouth so I can suck him. And then you’re going to watch as I let him fuck me, Cuckie – and there’s not a damned thing you can do to stop me! I’m going to make your kinky little fantasy become more real than you ever thought possible – and it’s going to make me so hot knowing that you’re seeing everything, but you can’t even stroke your poor, soft little cock!” She finished with another wicked giggle.
All I could do was groan in reply. She leaned down and gave me a brief, teasing kiss, her nimble tongue dancing wetly over my lips.
“Now, my little lover?” she began softly as she straightened. “It’s time for me to go slip into something a little more comfy while I wait for Jason – I bet he’s going to be nice and frisky when he gets back!” My wife chortled wickedly. “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little frisky myself, lover! But Jason will soon take care of that for me, too!” She blew me a final kiss and walked to the doorway. “See you in a little while, Cuckie. Oh! Don’t forget to listen real close to me tonight – you want ‘Bitch’? I’ll make sure you get it, my soft-dicked little man! Enjoy the show, wont you? I know I will!”
With a final salacious giggle and a girlish wave of her fingers, she lifted her key ring from her jacket pocket, clicked off the light, and strode from the room. She closed the inner door behind her, and the room again was plunged into almost total darkness except for the glow from the gym lights streaming through the concealed window. I heard Angela inserting the key to the new deadbolt, and then the lock clicked in. I then faintly heard the outer door close, and I knew she would have locked that too. Through the window I watched her walk over to the spa to check on the water filling the tub, and then she turned to the mirror and flashed me a final teasing grin.
She took her mobile phone out from the inside of her jacket, and then placed it on the shelf beside the spa. She then stepped out of her high-heels, and quickly slipped off her jacket. Her blouse followed next, and then she slid her skirt off. She was indeed wearing the set of gossamer-thin black panties and bra, and her sensual grin widened into a leer as she removed these last two items. She was now naked. The upstairs patio at the rear of the house was well fenced, and this enabled Angela to sunbathe nude when the mood took her. She had recently been doing just that, and her delicious body glowed with a light bronze tan. My gaze was quickly drawn to her neatly trimmed pubic thatch, and I licked my lips involuntarily.
“Like what you see, Cuckie?” she asked softly, her voice floating through the speakers in front of me. My cock suddenly tingled, as if responding to a summons.
She reached over for a thin black kimono that hung on the towel rack beside the spa, and she slipped into it. She tied the thin kimono strap around her waist, and then gathered her discarded clothes and placed them in a squat plastic hamper in the corner of the room.
“Be back in a tick, sexy!” she informed me. “I just have to go pee, and get a couple of things from upstairs.” She strode out into the garage, and the microphones relayed her footfalls going up the stairs.
In her absence my gaze slid restlessly around the gym. From my perspective the spa was back against the rear wall, to my left, and the door between the gym and garage was on my right. Her treadmill and exercise bike were lined up along the left wall.
Her bench-press was positioned virtually right in front of me, the aft section only about three or four feet away from the one-way mirror. It was a sturdy, expensive piece of equipment; the bench itself was wide, well padded, and could be raised or lowered to several heights. The bench was also hinged in the middle so that the upper section could be tilted and locked into different angles. Angela, employing her lurid imagination, had noted that it would be a perfect platform on which to engage in sexual intercourse. The bench could be bent at the hinge so that it had the same contours as a deckchair, and it could be raised to an ideal height so that anyone performing coitus on it could plant their feet firmly on the floor and acquire excellent leverage. Needless to say Angela had thus adjusted the bench with Jason’s height in mind.
I raked my gaze over the bench-press once more. If things went according to Angela’s lascivious little scheme, I would be able to watch her coupling with Jason on the bench from the same angle as if I was watching them from the foot of a bed. Angela had realised that if she and Jason were to copulate on the bench in the missionary position, then the bench would necessitate him keeping his thighs parted as he straddled it. Angela had lewdly informed me that this would mean I would have a most intriguing and intimate view of their coupling.
I heard my wife’s footsteps coming down the stairs, and she presently strode back into the gym, carrying two items in her hand; one was her cigarette lighter, and the other was a strip of condoms. I uttered another sharp gasp as I glanced at the pack of rubbers.
“I can’t forget these, can I, honey?” she asked me, playfully waving the condoms. “I’ll just leave them up here so that they’re handy when the time comes.” She placed both the lighter and the condoms beside her mobile phone on the shelf, and then sent me a sly smile. “Of course, Cuckie, if I keep doing this with Jason, then I’m sure that someday we won’t need rubbers, hmm? He’ll be allowed to take me bareback, won’t he?” Her delicious giggle floated through the speakers, and I uttered another soft moan and tested my bonds; the thick leather straps held me firmly in position, and a tingling, almost poignant surge of lust poured through me as I truly realised I was quite powerless to stop Angela from doing whatever she wanted – just like in my lurid dream!
My wife then bent over to check the water cascading into the spa once more, and I gazed down to her incredible legs under the hem of the kimono. She turned to face me and lifted herself up to sit on the wooden spa decking. The noise of flowing water still cascaded from the speakers.
Angela crossed her legs and glanced at her wristwatch. “Mmm, Jason shouldn’t be long now,” she announced with another smile. “So, how does it feel, Cuckie? Is your limp little cock tingling as you wait to watch another man have me? I bet you’re in there now, staring at my legs, and wondering how they’re going to look wrapped around Jason’s back, aren’t you?” Angela tittered softly. “And I hope you noticed that I did shave my pussy into that neat bikini line that turns you on so much… So I’m nice and smooth down there, honey – I’m sure Jason will like it, too.”
Her mobile phone suddenly warbled. She got to her feet and picked it up from the shelf and glanced at the digital readout. She looked towards me again. “Oh! – speak of the devil!”
She pressed a button and raised the phone to her ear. “Hiya, sexy,” she said into the receiver. “Yep, okay… Great – I’ll go open the door now, so just drive right in… No, everything’s still fine… Yep, that’s just about ready, too – it’s just about full up now… Ha!… It’s number one-four-three, in case you overshoot it!… Okay! See you in a tick! ‘Bye!”
She placed her phone back on the shelf and turned to me. “Well, my little Cuckie? My frisky lover will be here in about thirty seconds, so I’d better go let him in, huh? Of course, I’ll be letting him into more than the garage soon, won’t I?” With a final wink she strode from the gym, closing the door behind her
Inside the spare room I felt my pulse skyrocket! I again tested my bonds, and I felt that my own mobile phone was now warm as I held it in my restrained right hand. I tilted my wrist and set it gently down on the table so as not to thrust it out of reach of my shackled hand. The sound of the garage door opening filtered through the speakers, followed shortly after by the heavy purr of a car engine. The purr abruptly ceased, and I could just make out Angela’s voice. The garage door whined as it closed again, and then I heard a car door shut. I tensed.
The gym door opened, and Angela appeared in the doorway, a fresh pack of cigarettes in her hand. She was speaking over her shoulder to Jason: “…up and grab your beer, and get my wine too, please, sweetie – in fact, fill it up again for me, can you? Then come down, and we’ll have a nice, warm dip!”
I could hear Jason’s voice from outside of the gym: “No worries – I’ll be right back down. Can I use your bathroom, Angie?”
“Of course, sweetie,” my wife replied. “Turn left in the kitchen, and it’s the first door on your right.” Angela told him.
“Thanks,” Jason replied. “I’ll be right back!”
“Okay,” she told him.
Angela continued into the gym, and placed the new packet of smokes on the shelf beside her lighter and mobile phone. There was also a small metal ashtray on the shelf. I could hear Jason’s heavy footfalls upstairs through the speakers as he apparently went to urinate. Angela shut off the water and turned on the spa; I could hear the electric jets begin to whir.
Without further ado, she slipped off her kimono and hung it back on the towel rack. I again drank in the sight of her gorgeous body, and my cock tingled yet again as I gazed at her pert breasts and shapely legs. My wife then stepped up onto the decking and slowly lowered herself into the spa. She turned and sat down in the swirling water, and then reached across and retrieved her cigarettes, lighter and ashtray from the shelf. She opened the pack and extracted a smoke and lit it, placing the cigarettes, lighter and ashtray on the spa decking to her left. As she exhaled she glanced towards my hiding place, and a soft grin caressed her face.
A few moments later I heard heavy footsteps coming down the garage stairs, and Jason shortly strode into the gym; even though I knew he could not see me, I involuntarily cringed.
Jason was perhaps six foot, two inches tall, and, as Angela had stated, I’m sure that many women would consider him extremely handsome. He had finely chiseled features, and a crop of short, dark hair. My wife had told me that he worked as a landscape gardener, or in some such outdoor job, and both the colour and the tone of his body reflected his physically active profession. Even fully dressed, I could see that he had broad, muscular shoulders and narrow hips. Another pang of masochistic eroticism flooded through me as I realised why Angela found him physically attractive.
He elbowed the door closed behind him, took one look at Angela in the spa, and he pursed his lips and sent her a playful wolf-whistle.
My wife laughed. “What are you waiting for?” she asked him. “Get your clothes off, and come on in!”
Jason uttered a soft chuckle, and passed Angela her glass of wine. He set his own light beer down on the spa decking, and began undressing. My gaze was on my wife as she watched him strip, and when he took his shirt off she drew on her cigarette and gazed appreciatively at his lean torso. He had his back to me, and as he slid his jeans and briefs off, I could see Angela’s rapt gaze slide down to his cock. When he was naked, he quickly stepped up onto the decking and lowered himself into the water beside her.
I squirmed as I watched him settle to Angela’s right-hand-side, my heart thumping, and my cock sending lewd ripples through my loins. The evil little buzz slithered through me with renewed vigor, and I found I was panting as I watched my naked wife sitting side-by-side with this handsome (and also naked) young man. They chatted in a languid fashion for about five minutes, sipping their drinks as Angela finished her cigarette, with Jason asking my wife about her gym, and about her job, and other idle chit-chat. At one point he gestured to the door to the spare room. “What’s in there? Another bedroom?”
Angela shook her head. “No. It’s just a storage room, mainly. The bedrooms are all upstairs.” Jason nodded, and presently lost interest in the spare room, for which I was thankful.
As Jason took a final swig of his beer, Angela darted a glance towards my hiding spot, and she smiled slightly. When he placed the empty beer can on the decking, Angela slid over to him and slowly eased herself up onto his lap so that she was sat sideways. Her upper torso lifted from the water as she did so, and her breasts were wet and shiny. Jason quickly slid his left arm around her narrow waist, and she reciprocated by snaking her right arm behind his neck.
My heart nearly exploded as Angela suddenly lowered her face, and pressed her lips to his.
I could clearly hear the wet smack of their joined lips over the gentle bubble of the warm water, and before long their kiss had intensified. I could actually see my wife’s nimble tongue eagerly probing between his lips, and several times they tilted their heads to opposite sides, and as they did so their mouths opened and their moist tongues caressed and entwined. Jason reached up with his right hand to cup my wife’s left breast. In my dark hiding spot, I stifled a soft gasp as his thumb and forefinger closed on her hardening nipple. The rush of my pulse whooshed loudly in my ears.
Angela slid her hips away from him slightly, and her left hand dipped underwater towards his groin as they continued kissing. Her elbow soon started moving gently up and down, and it was obvious that she was stroking Jason’s cock. My own cock gave a soft, impotent throb, almost in silent salute, and I began trembling harder than ever. I again tested my bonds, even though I knew there was little point – I had made sure that the four steel eyelets were very securely mounted; I could do nothing but watch.
Back in the spa my wife broke their kiss. “Sit up on the top step, sexy,” she quietly told her lover, moving back to allow him to rise.
Jason did as she asked, lifting to sit on the topmost step on the inside of the spa, elevating his hips out of the water. He had a lean, firm body that many men would have envied – myself included. He parted his legs slightly, and his cock suddenly sprang into view, and it was already almost fully erect. I gasped; it was an impressive specimen – perhaps eight inches long, and of considerable girth. A delicious, almost masochistic pang sizzled through me as I realised that my wife had told me the truth – his cock was a lot bigger than mine! I feverishly gazed on.
Angela moved between his knees, facing him, and he leaned back, sliding his arms backwards so he could brace himself. My wife sank down slightly in the bubbling water, and her lower blonde tresses became damp as they dipped underwater. She reached out with her right hand to wrap her fingers around his cock, and she slowly stroked him for perhaps thirty seconds. He came to full potency, and I was stunned at how small Angela’s hand looked as it encased Jason’s thick shaft.
“Mmm, you’re nice and hard for me,” my wife huskily told him. She then lowered her pretty face towards his manhood. Time suddenly seemed to stand still as I watched Angela’s full, pouty lips part, and I uttered a choked gasp as she took the head of his cock into her warm mouth. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.
“Oh, fuck yeah, Angie!” Jason intoned softly.
My wife responded with an unintelligible mumble, and she gradually slid more of his meaty cock into her mouth. Her head slowly began to weave back and forth, and I watched in rapt, unblinking fascination as her lips slid moistly up and down his thick shaft. She got into a rhythm, and she was soon fellating him in earnest, her right hand now stroking him to the rhythm of her lips and tongue. The head of his cock was broad, and a soft purple colour, and every so often Angela would draw back and swirl her slick tongue around his taut, shiny glans, her eyes never leaving his face as she did so. Jason leaned back further so that he could better watch my wife’s oral ministrations.
“Jesus, that feels so good, babe…” Jason told her. In response my wife cupped his balls with her left hand and gently tickled and caressed them as she suckled him. She began to slide him deeper and deeper into her mouth, and she slowly removed her right hand from his shaft. A few moments later she was actually deep-throating him, and all of a sudden I remembered my dream about watching her do just that. My cock sent another tingle through my loins, and my stomach did flip-flops when her lips finally encircled the root of his impressive shaft. Jason gently laid a hand on her hair and simply watched her through half-closed eyes, cooing soft encouragement.
I again strained against my bonds, but I was unable to take my eyes from the lascivious scene being played out before me. I was shocked to discover that a huge part of me was subconsciously egging her on; On a dark, subliminal level, I desperately wanted to see him cum all over my wife’s pretty face, or to watch as he exploded inside her mouth, and see her swallow every drop of his creamy load! My heart raced even faster as my parched gaze hungrily drank in the sight of my wife giving her young, handsome lover a blowjob – something she hadn’t truly done for me in months!
Angela at that moment allowed Jason’s tool to slip from between her lips. It was slick and shiny with her saliva. She looked up at her lover and smiled. “Mmm… you have such a big, beautiful cock, Jason.”
Jason reflected her smile. “And you have a beautiful body, Angie – and, Jesus Christ, you’re incredibly good at what you’re doing!”
My wife gave a soft chuckle. “Why, thank you, kind sir! I’m a little out of practice, sorry – I haven’t sucked a cock as big as yours in a long time!”
I stifled a gasp, and recalled that Angela had warned me that she would be ‘bitchy’ – and here was my first taste of that! Her remark sent yet more tendrils of masochistic lust slithering through my lower abdomen, and I felt my balls tighten.
Jason grinned. “Practice on me as much as you want!” he playfully quipped.
Angela laughed, and she extended her nimble tongue and slid it up and down the length of his cock. “Cheeky boy! But with a cock this yummy, I can’t say no!” She began fellating him again, and Jason grunted softly as she sucked him deeply into her warm, wet mouth. All I could do was to imagine just how good it must have felt!
After about two minutes of intensive cock sucking, Angela once again withdrew her mouth from his glistening tool. She gazed up at him. “Why don’t we get out of the tub, sweetie – and then I want you to fuck me.”
“Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” replied Jason. He darted a quick glance around the gym. “Er – where are we gonna do it, Angie?”
Angela pointed. “Over there – on the bench-press.”
Jason instantly arose to his feet and climbed out of the spa. He gallantly helped Angela out, and my wife handed him a towel from the towel rack and then took one for herself. I watched hungrily as they gave themselves a cursory wipe with the towels. Angela hastily grabbed the packet of rubbers from the shelf, took Jason’s hand, and then led him over to the bench-press. Their bodies were still glistening with moisture, and I was again impressed as I glanced at Jason’s still erect manhood jutting out like the muzzle of a cannon. They were both now within about eight feet of me. I held my breath, and I shook in anticipation of what I knew was coming.
My wife lowered herself onto the expensive fitness device, and swung her legs up and over the vinyl covered bench seat. Angela quickly lay back against the sloping upper platform, and she then parted her thighs. Her legs were soon splayed widely out on either side of the bench seat. I caught a quick glimpse of her trimmed pussy, and I noticed that her pussy-lips were engorged and open. I felt my mouth go dry.
She looked up at her lover standing beside her. “Honey? I want you to lick Me.” she implored softly.
Jason immediately swung himself over the bench and sat facing her with his legs straddling the bench seat. His broad back obscured my view of Angela for a few moments until he lowered his body so that he lay flat, with his head hovering over my wife’s mons pubis. He quickly lowered his face towards the apex of her thighs. Although I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing with his mouth, I soon discovered that Angela’s facial expression told me everything I needed to know: Her face was flushed with excitement, and her eyes were glazed as she peered down at him. All of a sudden her eyelids fluttered and then closed, and she tilted her head back in a gesture of sudden pleasure, uttering a low moan; I instantly knew that Jason’s lips and tongue had just acquainted themselves with my wife’s smooth, creamy pussy.
Angela drew her legs upwards slightly, and Jason’s head started bobbing and tilting rhythmically, and Angela opened her eyes to look down at him. Soft slurps and sucking noises drifted from the little speakers in front of me. Jason’s large hands slid over Angela’s flat stomach and up towards her breasts; he soon found her nipples, and he took both of them between a thumb and forefinger, and began gently tweaking and pinching them.
“Mmmm, yeah, sweetie,” my wife urged. “Pinch them harder, honey… Mmm, yeah baby, just like that!… Oooh, Fuck… Your tongue feels so good! Mmm, LICK ME!”
Jason buried his face deeper into my wife’s cunt, and she slid her fingers through his short hair, guiding his lips and tongue to exactly where she wanted them. Her upper body was, of course, raised higher than her abdomen because of the sloping bench seat, and her pleasure-laden gaze flickered easily over his shoulders to my hiding spot, and it seemed that she was looking directly into my eyes. She kind of puckered her lips, as if she was blowing me a kiss, and she winked and leered for a second before turning her attention back to her lover.
“Yeah, baby – lick it just like that,” she told him. “Lick my button… Jesus, you’re making me so wet for you…”
My eyes were glued to her pretty face as she gazed down at Jason performing cunnilingus on her. She slid her fingers from his hair, and shortly a sudden crinkling noise darted from the stereo. I saw that Angela was breaking one of the seals on the packet of condoms, and she gently lifted a rubber out of its plastic cocoon.
“Mmm, stand up, baby,” she shakily told her lover. Jason lifted his lips from her cunt, and then stood up as she had asked, with his legs straddling the bench, again mostly blocking Angela from view. My wife was apparently rising to a sitting position, her legs bending out at right angles. I glanced at the gap between Jason’s parted thighs, and I saw my wife’s hand reaching for his cock. Jason’s heavy balls suddenly began wobbling, and I heard more sucking and slurping noises. I realised that my wife was once again fellating him to full hardness in preparation to slide the condom onto his cock. In fact Jason’s hips began moving softly back and forth, and he grunted. He was gently fucking her mouth!
The slurping noises ceased, and silence reigned for about ten seconds before I heard Angela’s excited voice again. “There – it’s on! Now, baby – I want you to FUCK ME!”
My wife quickly leaned back on the sloping bench, and her ankles suddenly lifted and hovered on either side of Jason’s thighs. He quickly lurched forward and lowered his upper body onto her, bending at the knees so he could keep his feet on the floor. My wife’s face came into view over his right shoulder once more as he nestled his hips between her outstretched thighs. I caught a quick glimpse of my wife’s neatly trimmed pussy peeping out from behind Jason’s swaying balls. Suddenly his rubber-sheathed cock blocked the view, and I could see Angela’s fingers wrapped around its head, guiding it to the entrance of her slit.
I panted as his large plum-colored glans nuzzled her pussy-lips. He altered his stance slightly, and then – with a long moan of ecstasy from my wife – he slowly thrust his hips downwards, and slid four inches of his cock into her warm, welcoming cunt!
It was all I could do not to moan myself! My eyes were riveted to the sight of Jason’s large, meaty cock slowly probing deeper and deeper between my wife’s labia. Angela’s legs bucked, and she repositioned herself as well, sliding a little further downward. With a couple of tentative thrusts, Jason’s cock slid in up to the hilt, and his balls kissed my wife’s asshole. Angela arched her back and gasped as he briefly held his thick shaft inside the hot, slippery confines of her cunt. As he gently withdrew, her inner labia seemed to almost suck at his retreating flesh, as if they were reluctant for it to depart! Angela’s hands curled around his hips and slid down to cup the cheeks of his backside as the full length of his shaft sank into her pussy again. His hips began pumping, and my wife uttered another groan of ecstasy as he began to fuck her in earnest.
My beautiful wife – the center of my world – was cuckolding me! She was letting another man FUCK her, right in front of me! I had to stifle yet another moan, and my cock again throbbed impotently in vicarious salute as I watched Jason’s thrusts become faster and deeper. Angela had been right; the height of the bench enabled Jason to use his muscular legs to thrust powerfully into her. The bench-press creaked and groaned cheerily as if it was enjoying the lewd use to which it was being put.
“Oh, Jesus!” my wife moaned. “Your cock is so big… so big! Give it to me… Give it to me, baby! Fuck me!”
The sharp, fleshy slap of Jason’s hips against Angela’s soft thighs began reverberating through the little stereo. Slap! Slap! Slap! Slap! I could even make out the wet, squelchy sound of his cock as it plunged in and out of her creamy pussy; Shlup! Shlarp! Shlurrp! Shlup!
“Come on, baby!” implored my wife eagerly. “Fuck me! Give it to me! Fuck me like my husband can’t!”
“Jesus, you’re so tight!” Jason grunted. “So fuckin’ tight, Angie, and so hot and wet!”
“Fuck! You’re filling me up so much!” Angela gasped. She slid her hands up along his back and her shapely calf muscles tightened as she wrapped her legs around his pumping hips. Her ankles locked, and I glanced past them and up to my wife’s face. To my surprise I found that she was looking over Jason’s shoulder directly into the mirror again – directly at me. She again winked, and her eyes blazed with lust.
“Mmmmm!” she gasped to her lover. “Do you have any idea how much better you are at fucking me than my husband is, baby? How much bigger your beautiful cock is?”
“Does it feel good, baby?” Jason asked with a tinge of self-satisfaction coloring his voice.
“Oooh, yeah!” my wife told him. “Do you know that my hubby hasn’t fucked me since you did two weeks ago?”
“His loss,” Jason panted smugly. “Maybe you should keep that sweet little pussy of yours just for me, sexy!”
Angela just happened to be glancing over Jason’s shoulder again as he made his last remark. She smiled towards my hiding place and replied: “Mmm, maybe I should! It’d mean that I’d at least get a decent fuck every so often!” She giggled.
“I’d fuck you every single day if I could!” Jason gasped to her.
“Mmm!” cooed my wife. “I fucking wish! Does it feel good to know that you have a much bigger cock than my husband?”
“Yeah,” Jason replied tightly. “It’s hot knowing that I can fuck you better than he can!”
“Jesus, that you CAN!” Angela confirmed in a half moan, half snicker. “You’re deeper inside me than he will ever be! Give it to me, baby – FUCK ME!”
In my hiding spot I nearly swooned! My hands shook so much that I feared the padlocks would start rattling! I clenched my fingers and tried to quell my trembling.
Jason decided to oblige my wife’s last request; he hooked his palms under her shoulders, and his powerful hips rocked up and down even harder and faster, and again I watched transfixed as Angela’s labia clung lovingly to his plunging cock. A thin rivulet of her secretions emerged from the base of her slit and ran slowly down the crack of her ass, and I could see that Jason’s large balls were becoming wet and shiny with her juices as they slapped her buttocks and asshole, bouncing and jolting gleefully. They kissed passionately again, the wet smacking of their lips adding to the moist chorus of their coupling. Angela had unclasped her legs from around his hips, and now they were spread wide – actually well past a ninety-degree angle. Her whole body shook and jerked with each powerful thrust of his hips. The bench-press creaked and shook with increasing zest, and the sharp slap, slap, slap of their flesh became louder than ever.
My wife obviously appreciated the increased tempo of his strokes; she exhorted him with greater gusto, and her moans and squeals became more ardent than ever. Her outstretched legs twitched and trembled, and the creamy rivulet of her juice trickling down the crack of her ass became a steady torrent. Even her upper thighs had become slick with her wetness.
In a heady, carnal daze I watched as Jason’s thick cock delved and plumbed my wife’s cunt. I had not been able to have intercourse with her for the better part of a whole year, and now here I was, watching another man filling that most intimate part of her with his manhood just a few feet away – not only watching, but loving the sight, relishing the depraved carnal glow that her sanctioned infidelity was awakening in me! I sat there greedily drinking in the image of how her cunt seemed to suck hungrily at this stranger’s big cock. I lapped up the delicious humiliation, the lascivious sense of helplessness, and the pure mind-blowing masochistic thrill.
As my wife again loudly voiced her pleasure, I knew that nothing would ever compare to the heady, almost surreal sense of insatiable carnality that I felt right now; my wife wasn’t simply cuckolding me – she was relishing the chance to do so! She was obviously loving this opportunity to slake her own ardent sexual appetites, and I found that her wanton eagerness to satisfy her lust with a man who possessed a much larger cock than I did turned me on most of all!
With incredible clarity, I suddenly realised that I had always been a cuckold – I just needed to find my cuckoldress! And there she was before me – my wife – who at this very moment was letting another man take what was rightly mine, ardently letting him enter and probe and penetrate her, allowing him to possess her in a way that I hadn’t for months! She had called me ‘Cuckie’ – and now I instinctively realised that it was a self-fulfilling prophecy; providing she had my approval, I knew that Angela would relish the chance to bed other men, and that this definitely wouldn’t be the last time another man enjoyed her intimate charms. My usurped cock gave a soft, poignant throb as I realised I was eagerly looking forward to the prospect of henceforth having to share my wife’s pussy!
With a kinky jolt, I even half hoped that Jason’s condom broke, and that when he climaxed his thick cream would flood my wife’s hot, humid cunt! I imagined looking at her pussy, all wet and sticky with her own secretions, and then watching as Jason’s cum slowly trickled out, almost as if to confirm once and for all my status as a true cuckold! I felt a tiny trickle of pre-cum ooze from my own flaccid tool, and I uttered a soft gasp of both excitement and acceptance.
All of a sudden Angela’s moans shifted to a higher pitch. “Oh JESUS! Fuck me, Jason! Fuck me!… I’m gonna cum!… Keep fucking me!… KEEP FUCKING MEEEEE!” Her legs gave several violent shudders, and as I watched, her clasping cunt seemed to clench Jason’s plunging cock even tighter.
“Oh, God, please!” shrieked my wife. “Keep going!… Keep going!… I’m gonna CUM!” Jason’s thrusts became even more vigorous, and Angela’s smooth, supple legs once again wrapped around his hips, locking at the ankles. I knew that they wouldn’t unclasp until orgasm had swept through her.
“YES!” she howled. “NOW!… NOW!… OH MY GOD, YES!… NOW!… AHHHHHHHHHHHH!… OHHHHHH!… OH JESUS, YES!… AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
I nearly swooned once more as I listened to my wife climax! I watched as her juicy cunt seemed to spasm around Jason’s thick manhood, and a fresh, copious torrent of thick, clear liquid seeped out from between her taut pussy-lips and Jason’s pumping cock. It poured down the crack of her ass, and began forming a shiny pool on the vinyl bench.
It was then that I noticed Jason’s balls shifting position. They almost seemed to be pulled upwards, out of his scrotum towards the root of his shaft. At the same time he gave a husky grunt. “Oh, fuck! I’m gonna cum too, babe!”
“DO IT!” implored my wife eagerly. “CUM FOR ME!”
Jason’s balls parted and pulled up even further until they were positioned tightly on opposite sides at the base of his cock, like a pair of bulbous eyes. He gave another long groan, and then his thrusts slowed slightly, and he plunged his cock into her drenched pussy one final time.
“Jesus, I’m cuming!” he wailed. “I’M CUMING!…YEAH!… FUCK, YEAH!… ARGHHHHHHH!”
I could actually see the underside of his cock pulsing as he ejaculated – the slick, rubber-coated flesh throbbing as it joyfully squirted his creamy semen deep into my wife’s pussy. His tightened balls quivered, and held their taut position for several seconds before they suddenly dropped back into his sac with an almost audible plop! Angela unlocked her ankles with a groan of satisfaction, and she lowered her calves to rest on his twitching buttocks. I could once again hear the soft smack of lips as the pair kissed deeply. I suddenly felt weak and dazed, and I realised I was coated with a sheen of sweat.
Angela and her lover lay for a couple of minutes as afterglow rippled through them both, still languidly kissing; Jason’s slowly deflating cock was still wedged in my wife’s cunt, although his now loose and drooping balls hid it from my view. Jason gradually lifted from her, and slowly rose to his feet. He stood gasping slightly and gazing down at my prone wife.
“Mmm, that was so fucking good, sweetie,” Angela cooed. She hadn’t altered her splayed position as of yet; her legs were still parted, although her feet were now resting on the floor, and I could now clearly see her drenched cunt and pubic region. The pool of her cream still lay on the vinyl bench under her asshole like an oil slick.
“Jesus, Angie – you’re such a hot, hot lady,” Jason said softly. Angela sent him a pleased smile, and he turned slightly, and I looked down to see the condom on his now half deflated cock; the bulbous end of the rubber bulged with a copious amount of his cum. He reached down and gently unrolled the condom from off his manhood and looked askance at Angela.
“Roll it up and poke it into your empty beer can, and then crush it,” she told him. “I’ll bin it later.”
He nodded, and ambled over to the spa and did as she asked. My wife slowly sat up, swung her legs over the bench, and then strode over to Jason just as he crushed the beer can containing the used and full condom. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
“Why don’t we slip back into the spa, sweetie?” my wife suggested softly. “After that, I think we both need a good, long bath!”
Jason chuckled, and voiced his agreement. Angela darted upstairs to get them both another drink as Jason sank gratefully into the bubbling water, a contented half-smile flooding his face. Angela soon returned with another beer for him, and a wine for herself. She then climbed into the spa beside him, and they kissed briefly before sipping their drinks.
For the next fifteen minutes they simply sat side by side in the spa and talked. I was, of course, still wired and horny beyond all belief, and even their soft post coital conversation turned me on. The carnal buzz trilled through me like a drug, and I glanced down at my mobile phone and awaited the signal from Angela to press the button that would speed dial her phone.
Angela presently arose from the spa and popped upstairs again to replenish their drinks. After she returned, another ten minutes passed while the pair softly chatted and bantered as the swirling hot water soaked over them. When Angela finally finished the last of her wine, she placed the empty glass on the shelf next to the spa instead of on the spa decking.
I looked at the empty glass: That was my cue!
I gingerly plucked my mobile phone from the table with my shackled right hand, and pressed a button on the touch-pad. The LED display glowed into life. I clicked twice to bring up the internal phone book, and then I pressed the green button to dial Angela’s mobile number.
Several seconds passed. I held my breath.
Out in the gym, Angela’s phone trilled. Angela scowled, and she arose and reached for the warbling gadget. She answered the call:
“Hello? Oh, hi hun!” Angela darted a glance towards Jason and raised her forefinger to her lips – the classic “shush!” gesture. She then continued talking into the phone. “Yeah… Just down in the gym right now – I just did a few K’s on the treadmill, and now I’m taking a dip in the tub… Uh-huh… Uh-huh… Ah, okay… Okay, hun… How long will you be?… Yeah, that’s fine… Good flight?… Ah, I see… Yeah… Sure… Okay, I’ll be up… drive safe… See you soon, hun… Love you, too… ‘Bye.”
I had to admire both Angela’s acting skills and her aplomb.
Jason had been listening to the conversation, and as it progressed I could see him stiffen in apprehension. It was almost comical to watch his expression changing.
“Who was that?” he anxiously asked when Angela had placed her phone back on the shelf.
“That was my husband,” she replied, leaning back into the spa. “He changed his mind and took the last flight from Sydney, and just landed at Melbourne airport. He’ll be here in just over an hour.”
Jason sat upright. “Shit! I had better get going!”
Angela laughed. “Calm down, honey! He’s still at the airport on the other side of town – not just up the street! We still have plenty of time to get you dressed and on your way.”
Jason relaxed a little, and the pair sat talking softly for several more minutes. I was still dazed and incredibly excited by the sight of my naked wife and her equally naked lover as they sat chatting and giggling in the spa. I flexed my shackled ankles and wrists in anticipation of Angela releasing me. Lust and desire bubbled in me like fermenting syrup.
Out in the gym Angela finally sighed. “Well, I suppose we’d better get you on your way before hubby gets here, sweetie.” Jason nodded, and they climbed out of the spa. Angela simply dried herself and slipped her black kimono back on, and then perched herself up on the spa decking with her legs crossed. Jason, of course, needed to completely redress, and as Angela sat watching him slide his jeans on, I saw her glancing towards the mirror. A soft, slightly naughty smile formed on her lips. I gazed back at her in apprehension – something unexpected was forming in that evil mind of hers.
When Jason had finally slid his boots on, Angela quickly rose to her feet and approached him, and the pair kissed. I could see that my wife was really putting a lot of passion into the kiss, and Jason duly responded. My wife pulled back, and looked up at him.
“I want to do something before you go,” she told him.
“What’s that, sexy?” he asked.
“I want to give you a blowjob,” she replied.
I think Jason was just as startled as I was.
“Now?” Jason asked her.
My wife nodded. “There’s something I have always wanted to do – and that’s to be able to watch myself sucking a big cock – a big cock like yours…” My wife gestured toward my hiding place. “I want you to stand in front of the mirror as I kneel down and suck you. I want to see myself taking you into my mouth – will you do that for me?”
I gasped in astonishment, and Jason himself seemed surprised, but naturally assented. The pair strode towards my hiding place, and I again cringed involuntarily as they approached and came to a halt no more than two feet from the mirror. They stood facing eachother, side-by-side – Angela to my left, and Jason on the right. My wife smiled at her lover and slowly kissed him deeply again. Her fingers fluttered downwards to loosen the strap on her kimono; the thin material parted under its own weight, revealing her firm, golden breasts. She broke their passionate kiss, and lifted the kimono from her shoulders, and it slithered to the floor, crumpling at her feet. She was once again totally naked. I drew a deep breath as she kicked her kimono to one side.
My wife then smiled demurely at her lover and sank to her knees in front of him. She then did a curious thing; instead of unbuttoning his jeans, she simply reached up and unzipped his fly, and slid her slender hand inside the opening. I could see her easing the front of his briefs down, and then she gently drew his cock out of the slit. Her hand reached in again, heading downwards, and she even more gently lifted his balls out of the fissure.
I gazed in perplexity at the pair for several seconds – Angela completely naked as she knelt in front of him, and Jason standing beside her, fully dressed except for his genitals dangling out of his fly. Jason himself seemed puzzled, but not displeased; he simply gazed down at my naked wife as she briefly cupped his balls in her small palm before wrapping her fingers around his cock. His shaft wasn’t hard, but I could see that it was in the process of becoming so. Angela’s lewd proposal had obviously excited him, and I envied his prowess in being able to rise to the occasion twice within thirty minutes; one of the many benefits of youth.
“Mmm, such a beautiful cock…” my wife cooed. She softly jerked it with her right hand, looking into the mirror, almost right into my eyes… She knew, of course, that it would drive me practically insane to watch her fellate Jason to the ultimate conclusion – and she had arranged to do it almost right under my nose. My own cock gave yet another excited twitch as I watched her stroking him to hardness.
Her head slowly eased forward, and she parted her lips and flicked her tongue over his large, plum-shaped glans. I sat mesmerized, watching every move she made. She looked up at Jason and smiled, and then slid his growing tool into her hot, wet mouth.
Jason grunted, and placed his right hand behind my wife’s head. In a burst of recollection, I suddenly realised why Angela had elected to ease his cock and balls out of his fly rather than lowering his jeans completely: I had once told her that the notion of her being completely naked as she fellated a virtually fully dressed man was a huge turn-on for me. It seems that she had remembered my lewd observation, and was now acting on it.
Angela pulled back and let his hardening cock slip from her mouth. “Mmm, it’s so hot to watch myself suck your big cock, sweetie. Watch with me…” She gestured to the mirror, and once more took Jason’s dick into her mouth, sucking it with growing enthusiasm.
I sat there as both of them watched their reflection in the mirror – Jason watching her suck his cock, and Angela gazing up into his eyes. The different angles of their gazes meant that both of them seemed to be looking me directly in the eyes as Angela fellated him. The deliciously lecherous contrast of Jason’s almost fully attired state and my wife’s nakedness as she knelt in front of her lover and sucked his cock was incredibly carnal. I don’t think I had ever seen a more wanton and wickedly indecent sight in my entire life! I swallowed heavily and panted.
“Mmmmmm…” hummed my wife. She began stroking the base of his cock faster, and her head bobbed back and forth more vigorously, sliding her mouth and soft lips up and down his shaft, over and over. His cock was now completely hard, and at this close range the impressive size of his manhood was all too apparent to me. I suddenly realised that he would have compared very favorably with Angela’s large dildo, and the insatiable little buzz seemed to chortle inside me! My own cock once again quivered, and I found that my pelvis was spontaneously writhing, desperately trying to stimulate myself.
“Jesus, Angie!” muttered Jason. “Oh, Christ, that’s so good!”
His hips began to sway, rocking back and forth to match her bobbing lips and mouth. From this close range, I could see every vein on his cock, and see the bulge of Angela’s cheeks as Jason’s tool filled her mouth, over and over. Angela looked up at him and again pulled back.
“Jason?” she whispered huskily. “I want you to cum in my mouth… I want to watch as you cream… Fuck my mouth, baby… Shove your cock in and out for me…”
She immediately slid his cock back between her lips, and disengaged her hands. In fact, she placed her hands behind her back in what was almost a gesture of submission and surrender. Do whatever you want to me, her body screamed, and I won’t stop you! Jason gasped, and immediately complied with her last request; he now began pumping his hips harder, placing his left hand behind her head as well. He held her face steady as his large cock pistoned in and out of her mouth. All the time her gaze never left their reflection in the mirror, and she started to hum, making a soft, sexy noise each time his cock touched base: “Uhmm… Uhmm… Uhmm… Uhmmm…”
“Oh fuck, Angie!” gasped Jason. He, too, was watching their reflection in the mirror. He sped his thrusts, sending his tool spearing into my wife’s hot mouth even faster. A rivulet of her drool trickled down her lips and pooled on her chin. My wife’s muffled moans kept pace with his accelerated thrusts: “Uhmmm!… Uhmmm!… Uhmmm!… Uhmmm!… Uhmmmm!”
I found I was again silently adding my own encouragement, watching in feverish expectation as Jason became more and more urgent in his quest to fill my wife’s mouth with his semen. He had now achieved a perfect rhythm, his smoothly pumping hips thrusting his cock into her mouth as though it was a warm, sucking cunt. I was shocked to realise that I was actually mouthing silent words: “Do it… Cream her… Cum in her mouth…Do it!” I got control of myself with an effort, and watched as his balls gleefully jolted and swayed, occasionally bouncing playfully off her chin
Angela’s little moans and whimpers intensified, and I could see her nipples standing proud and erect as her tits swayed to the beat of his thrusts. Jason suddenly uttered a soft gasp. “Jesus, I’m gonna cum, Angie!”
My wife looked up at him, and she rapidly nodded and then winked at him; her message was clear – Cum in my Mouth
Jason tensed, and his legs shook, and I could actually see his balls contracting again. He gave two soft moans, and then he held the bulk of his cock inside her mouth and groaned softly. I could see the base of his cock throbbing and pulsing, and I could also see Angela sucking and swallowing as his cream exploded in her mouth, her humming now taking on a tone of delight… Jesus, he had just cum in her mouth! I felt my cock leaking doomed pre-cum again.
Jason’s grunts of pleasure slowly dwindled, and Angela tenderly resumed fellating him, her head weaving with deliberate slowness in and out as Jason struggled to remain steady on his feet. My wife kept up her soft, post-orgasmic oral ministrations for almost a minute as Jason regained his breath. His shaft had reluctantly started to deflate, and Angela continued to softly lick and suckle it as it shrank. She finally gave it several deep, gentle sucks before she let it slip wetly from her lips.
Angela looked up at him. “Mmm, you taste fucking yummy!” She opened her mouth and slid her tongue out to show him (and me) that she had indeed swallowed every drop of his cream.
He uttered a soft chuckle of mingled praise and contentment. “Jesus! You’re so fucking good at that, Angie… Oh my sweet Jesus, you are the best I’ve ever, ever had…”
My wife smiled sweetly at him, and gently eased his now drooping balls back through his fly, and then did the same with his half-deflated cock. She finished by pulling the front of his briefs up through the slit and then re-zipping him. My wife then gathered her discarded kimono from the floor and arose from her knees. As she slid back into the thin gown, she turned her head towards the mirror and smiled at her own reflection. I knew her smile was directed at me.
“So you liked that, sexy?” she asked, turning back to her lover.
“Oh, yeah!” he quickly replied. “I hope you enjoyed watching it as much as I enjoyed you doing it!”
My wife laughed softly, fastening the kimono strap around her narrow waist. “Well, sweetie, I’d better send you on your way, and tidy up before hubby gets home.”
Jason nodded, and the pair slowly walked to the far doorway.
“You got everything?” my wife asked him.
Jason nodded. “Yeah – I just came with my wallet, so there’s not a lot to leave behind.”
“Okay, sweetie,” my wife replied. She opened the door, and they disappeared through the doorway. I could hear the pair talking softly in the garage for a couple of minutes, as well as engage in a long parting kiss. A car door opened and then thudded shut, and then I heard the whine of the garage door raising, followed by the bark of Jason’s car starting up. The engine gradually dwindled until it was gone, and then I heard the garage door close again.
A minute passed.
Angela suddenly strode back into the gym. She smiled softly towards my hiding place, and walked to the laundry hamper and lifted her black jacket. She reached into a pocket and retrieved her key ring, and then walked towards the spare room door.
A few seconds later I heard the outer door open, and then I heard the key sliding into the deadbolt on the inner door. The door opened, and my wife slowly walked in. She clicked the light on, and I blinked in the sudden glare. Her kimono did little to hide the contours of her body, and I stared hungrily at her.
“So, lover,” she began softly, dropping her key ring on the desk. “How was the show?”
All I could do was croak.
Angela giggled softly. “Was it good, my little Cuckie?”
She reached up to retrieve the small brass keys from the clip on the wall, and began to unlock the padlocks. The wrist cuffs were finally free. I lifted my hands slowly, flexing them, and I stared hungrily up at my wife, who stood looking down at me with a soft ruminative smile playing across her face.
I gazed into her eyes. “Please kiss me!” I begged.
Angela’s soft smile broadened into a leer. “You want me to kiss you after I just finished kissing my lover? And just after I gave Jason a blowjob, Cuckie?”
“YES!” I gasped. Angela leaned down, and pressed her lips to mine. I opened my mouth to let her tongue slither inside, and I groaned as I tasted both her own essence and the tinge of her lover’s cock flavoring her saliva. Angela slid her tongue over my teeth and teasingly pulled back. Her green eyes blazed with an inner heat.
“So – how was it, baby?” she asked again.
“Fucking mind-blowing!” I panted huskily, undoing the wrist cuffs.
“Did you see and hear everything?” my wife inquired as she pulled my chair out from under the desk. She spun me around to face her.
My wife chuckled and sank to her knees to unclip my ankle cuffs. “And was it everything you expected?” she asked as she unclipped the straps and slipped the cuffs off completely.
“More than that, ” I replied shakily. “It was fucking, fucking mind-blowing!”
“So – are you ready for your little reward, honey?” she asked as she stood up, glancing at the single bed behind me.
I nodded, and shakily rose to my feet, and undid my jeans and slid them off. My briefs followed, and I shivered as Angela gazed down at my cock. I was further excited as I saw a soft flickering smile curl her lips as her gaze swept over my limp shaft; was she mentally comparing me to her lover? My mouth went dry again, and I trembled.
“Okay, lover,” my wife said softly. “Lay down on the bed.”
I did as Angela asked, and my stomach did flip-flops as Angela sank onto the bed and sat cross-legged between my knees.
“Mmm,” my wife intoned. “All ready…” Her right hand reached for my soft cock. I moaned as the warmth of her soft fingers closed around it.
“Now, my little Cuckie,” began Angela. “Tell me how it felt to watch Jason fuck me…”
I moaned again as Angela’s nimble fingers began caressing my flaccid tool. “How it felt?” I gasped. “It felt so hot, so, so hot to watch!” My voice had almost a hysterical tone to it.
“Did you see how big his cock is?”
“YES!” I almost moaned.
“It’s bigger than yours, isn’t it, Cuckie?”
My wife grinned up at me, and her fingers found that sensitive spot under my glans, and she tickled it. New waves of incredible pleasure tore through my loins. “Do you like being my little cuckold?”
“Yes! I love it!” I gasped. “I want to be your cuckold – always!”
My wife raised an eyebrow. “Do you, now? So you want me to cuckold you again?”
Angela gave a teasing chuckle. “I can stop if you want…”
“NO!” I screeched. “Please don’t STOP!”
“Aww… You want me to offer my hot, creamy pussy to Jason again?”
“I’m sure he wants it, Cuckie!”
“I know he does!” I croaked. Angela’s fingers tickled and teased my flaccid little cock, and I could feel the first stirrings of a building climax!
“Did you like watching him cum in my mouth?” she asked me.
“OH, FUCK, YES!”
My wife giggled and increased the tempo of her soft ministrations. I nearly screamed as she used her other hand to caress my full, aching balls.
“Did you see him cum when he fucked me, Cuckie?
“Yes! I saw him cum!”
“How did that make you feel – to watch him cum as he fucked me? To watch him cum inside me?”
“I wished that he didn’t have a condom on!” I blurted.
“Oooh!” my wife said, raising an eyebrow again. “Is that right? Would it have been better if he’d shot his hot, creamy load inside me without a rubber on, baby?”
Angela giggled. “Well, next time, I’ll let him fuck me bareback then, won’t I?”
“And I’ll tell him to cum inside me…”
“Jesus, do it – DO IT!” I shrieked. Orgasm sent teasing, exploratory tendrils through my loins. I felt almost faint as muscles at the base of my cock began to tighten. My heart pounded like a jackhammer.
My wife tilted her head and smiled that sexy smile. “Mmm… are you sure you wouldn’t mind if he explodes inside me, Cuckie?”
“No! – I wouldn’t mind!”
“You’re sure?” Angela teased.
Angela grinned. “Did you see how much I creamed when he fucked me, Cuckie? All my cream is still out on the bench-press…”
“I saw it! Jesus, I want to lick it up!” I blurted.
Angela raised her eyebrows again. “Ah! Do you, Cuckie? You want to lick up all the cream that dribbled from my hot, wet, sticky cunt as another man’s cock made me cum?”
“Oh, fuck! YES!” I was so close to cuming!
“Then I’ll make sure you lick it up before you go to bed, Cuckie! Every last fucking drop…”
I unleashed a moan of pure lust! Angela’s dancing fingers swirled and teased and stroked. My legs shook violently, and my balls rippled as her fingernails trailed over them.
“Hmm,” my wife said thoughtfully. “Let’s hope your little cock is able to get hard soon, Cuckie. Because if it can’t, then you’ll probably have to watch some other man fucking me – a lot! Your were right – I need a good, long, hard FUCK!”
“I KNOW YOU DO!” I howled.
“Ahhh! There’s an idea!” my wife chirped. “Maybe I should get some of those nasty little pills from work, and get you to keep taking them – and that way your soft little toy cock will never be hard again, hmm?”
I almost screamed! “DO IT!”
My wife giggled. “Oh, my little Cuckie – don’t make rash wishes – you may get what you ask for! Just imagine never feeling your thin little dickie sliding into my pussy ever again! And then imagine having to watch some other man with a real cock do what you can’t – slide his big, hard cock inside me again and again!” My wife giggled again.
“OH MY GOD! PLEASE DO IT!” It was going to happen! I was on the verge of tears as I felt orgasm screeching along my loins. I bucked and writhed on the bed, and I gazed into my wife’s beautiful face!
Angela sent me a wicked leer. “Mmm, by the way? Next time I hook up with Jason? Maybe you should ‘be in Sydney’ overnight – and then I can spend all night fucking his brains out! I could leave you tied to this bed, and then I’d take Jason upstairs to our bedroom, and you can just listen all night as he fucks your wife, in your bed, over and over and fucking over, hmm?” She uttered a tinkling, evil giggle. “I just might let him fuck me in the ass, too! Wouldn’t that be so bitchy of me! You’ve never been allowed to take my ass – but I think I’ll let Jason have it, CUCKIE!” She tilted her head back and amplified her giggle!
Climax suddenly tore through me like an erotic scythe. My whole body shook, and my back arched. I turned my face upwards, and screamed! The room shook, and with each and every heavy, ecstatic throb of orgasm I bucked and shook anew, I could feel my semen flowing from my cock like a river, and all the while Angela’s teasing, tickling fingers stroked and caressed, sending me up through the ceiling, past the stars, and into a place I had never been before! I convulsed and screamed again:
“ANGIE!… ANGIE!… ANGIE!… ANGIE!…”
An hour later, Angela was curled up beside me in bed, her arms wrapped tightly around me.
“Wow,” she repeated again
I smiled softly. “I take it you enjoyed driving me out of my fucking mind, honey?”
My wife chuckled languidly. “I’ve never seen anyone climax like you just did… it was… mind-blowing, as you put it…”
I grinned. “Well, let’s just say that you really nailed what I find the most arousing.”
“Oh, that I did! And very unwise of you to let me know, lover! You do realise, don’t you, that you just gave me a shitload more ammunition – and that I’m going to drive you fucking insane?”
“I have no doubt.” I replied truthfully.
Angela simply smiled. “In fact, I can think of at least half a dozen new and evil little thoughts and ideas…”
This remark aroused my interest. “Really? Care to elaborate?” I asked.
Angela did care to elaborate – she talked softly for about twenty minutes. As I listened, my respect for both her imagination and her wickedly lascivious sense of eroticism went up to a new level.
“So, baby?” she concluded. “Do you like any of those ideas?”
I did indeed! “Oooh, yeah – all of them, in fact!”
My wife giggled. “Well, we can have a good, long talk about them over the next few days, baby. I love you, Michael.”
“I love you too,” I replied.
We slept until late Saturday morning…