The Uncertain Cuckold is an upcoming erotic novel I am working on. Below is chapter 1. I won’t give away too much now. Our narrator is Matt, a 29-year-old man. He is engaged to the beautiful Jill, 31. Has their sex life grown stale? Who knows? But Matt has convinced Jill to fuck another man – an older man – in front of him.
I lay under the duvet and watched my fiancée stride naked into the bedroom, her body fresh from a bath. She approached her drawer of sexy underwear and peered inside. Her figure was insanely gorgeous. She was slim with a voluptuous ass. Her legs were beautiful, her waist tight and her tits small and perky. She hated me calling them small, often threatening to save for a boob job, but they were perfect for fitting in my mouth. She was 31, two years older than myself.
“I wonder what I should wear,” she said, turning to face me with her hands on her hips.
Her pussy was shaven bald, something she had obviously done in the bath. Something she had done without my prior knowledge. And certainly something she had done without my consent. I loved her pussy in all kinds of fashion, though. Whether it was bald, hairy or cropped.
Jill’s blonde hair cascaded down as she pulled out a pair of boy shorts. She slipped them up her legs until they clung to her hips and accentuated her magnificent rear.
“Do you remember that guy on the internet who bought me these?” she teased.
I was erect. Her history of male admirers on the web was something we rarely talked about anymore. She had never met up with any of them. Instead, she had engaged them in back and forth e-mailing, swapped photographs and even sold some pairs of her used panties. Many of the men posted her lingerie and chocolates as gifts. Jill’s self-confidence had soared, and the rewards were all mine in the bedroom.
“You may masturbate over me,” she said, eyeing me through the mirror. “But do not cum.”
My cock strained against the duvet. My bulging balls ached and indulged by her dominant tone. I was suffering the effects of her enforcement of a sex ban which had lasted for several days.
“I’m saving myself,” she had said.
I seized my cock in my hand.
That I was not the man my fiancée was saving herself for sent shock waves to my loins.
“What about these?” Jill was holding up the skimpiest of g-strings with a pink garter attached.
I nodded, almost begging for her to wear them. I had tried to touch her several times all week, but each time I was dismissed and teased that her body temporarily belonged to someone else and only when that someone else had enjoyed the pleasure of it would it be returned to me. She enjoyed mocking and playing with me. And I too was addicted. “I’m going to be for him everything you wish I’d be for you,” she promised.
The sperm in my balls warned they were rising. My resolve was tested. The moment of no return agonisingly close. My hand slacked, then fell altogether into an excruciating, static slumber.
Jill watched, understanding the agony of my actions, and laughed. “If you dare cum, Matt… I mean it.”
We had a great relationship. One which few could appreciate or emulate. Neither of us had ever been truly unfaithful. Everything we had ever done had been either with the other’s approval or so small it wasn’t worth the hassle. We had occasionally swung with another couple. A married couple. The ladies would sometimes do things together, my fiancée once even going as far as to 69 the wife. But it was her lust for the husband, and him for her, which truly turned me on.
“Is this cute?” Jill asked, giving a twirl.
“Very,” I croaked, concentrating on the garters. “You should put on your matching stockings.”
Jill paused, then clasped the g-string with her fingers and pulled it off. “I’ve got a better idea.” She looked at me, a devilish smile on her face. “You’re going to hate me when you see this.” She disappeared to the spare bedroom.
The man she was dressing for was called Gary. He was the husband of the couple we had previously experimented with. For years he had told me how he desired Jill, complementing her often and reminding me how lucky I was. His wife was attractive, but she wasn’t in Jill’s league. I couldn’t help passing Gary’s words on to Jill, nor to control my stiffness when she would reveal how she often fantasised about having him to herself for a night. It was only since Gary’s marriage had hit a particular rocky patch, the depths of which we were unsure, that he and Jill had begun texting on a regular basis. They did it only during the day, when both were at work. I got to read the messages – after all, it was I who had first suggested the contact – and the arousal was tremendous. There was a hint of jealousy within, but I embraced it. This was one of my all-time greatest fantasies, and the doubt only served to strengthen the severity of the reality.
“I’m doing this for you as well,” Jill had insisted earlier in the week, after they had made the final arrangements.
I nodded. The rules had been proposed and agreed upon. Gary understood and agreed to them every part as much as Jill.
She stood first on one foot, then the other.
My heart sank. “What is it, Jill?”
“There’s something else, Matt.”
The blood rushed to my balls as I sensed a darker requirement in her. A need. A lust. The beginnings of a runaway train I might never comprehend how to control.
“You have to let me do this thing,” she insisted, twirling her little finger in a strand of her long blonde hair.
“Tell me what it is first.”
She breathed quietly. “I might want to be alone with him at some stage in the evening.”
“To do what?”
Jill looked at me like I was an idiot.
“Okay,” I agreed. “That should be okay.” My cock was pulsating. It was more than okay.
“I’ll let you know if and when that time comes,” she had added.
Jill entered the bedroom again.
My eyes darted to her lingerie, mesmerised by her cruelty in choosing my most favourite of outfits.
“This is what I’m wearing tonight,” she said. “And that’s final.”
Jill admired herself in the mirror. Her purple basque corset, black stockings and suspenders and a g-string. There was a matching thong for the corset, which she had evidently decided wasn’t revealing enough. The g-string was cleverly worn over her suspenders for easy removal. She completed the look with a pair of red stiletto heels.
I was jealous. My contempt boiling between desire and deception. Pleasure and pain. Attraction and abhorrence.
Jill sprayed the most delightful and tantalising of perfumes on her neck, and rubbed her skin with the backs of her wrists.
“Please jerk me off, Jill… Please.”
She laughed at me. “I’m not yours and I’m not cheating on him.” She came to the bed and pulled back the duvet, her eyes feasting on my fingers wrapped around my shaft. “If you dare cum, Matt…” There was a silent threat. “I’ll not be happy.” Her words promising a punishment of more depth if I dared.
I couldn’t help myself, the sight of her before me and the thoughts of the night ahead. I was overwhelmed, and came hard in front of her. She watched each spurt, staring and smiling at the end of my cock.
“You can’t say you weren’t warned,” she said, and turned on her heel. She picked up a short denim skirt and a black cardigan. “Just something to wear over my lingerie… For a short while.”
As my orgasm subsided, I was almost instantly clouded by doubt. Was I really going to stand back and watch another man fuck Jill? It was insane, surely. What had I been thinking to initiate this?
I noticed the smile on her face as she gave the mirror a final glance. A fantasy I had conceived and convinced her to chase. How could I cancel now and contribute to her disappointment? What if she lost her confidence altogether?
I swallowed hard, downing my pride and my uncertainties, and attributed my doubts to my climax.
I reasoned that sooner or later my arousals would return. They always did.
Jill had told Gary to arrive at 8 o’clock. She and I sat waiting in the living room of our terraced house. Restless. Nervous. Each in trepidation of the evening ahead. To swing with another couple had been an enormous step in our relationship, but in some senses it was a safer risk. We had both stood to endure the jealously. We had both stood to enjoy the pleasures. But now… To accept that Jill was to have sexual intercourse with another man while I watched quietly and respectfully was very different.
It challenged everything.
Our composures almost collapsed when the front door was knocked suddenly at 7:45pm.
“It can’t be him,” I said. “It’s too early.”
“Whoever it is, get rid of them, Matt. I don’t want anyone to see me in this skirt.” She disappeared from the living room into the kitchen to hide. “Except him,” she giggled.
I left the living room and opened the front door.
Sixteen years older than my fiancée, Gary was well-dressed, smiling and mannered as he handed me a bottle of red wine. His eagerness to enter was obvious, and I welcomed him into our home.
“Jill,” I called. “Gary’s here.”
She appeared in the doorway from the kitchen, blushing, and they kissed on the cheek.
He feasted his eyes upon her. “Wow,” he wheezed, as if suddenly short of breath.
I had deliberately laid the remote controls and a newspaper beside me on one of the sofas, indicating it was my seat and leaving them to sit together on the other. Jill smiled at me as she sat, and crossed her legs. Gary’s eyes drank in every inch of her stocking-clad pins on display.
An awkward silence ensued. The grateful relief coming only in a succession of positive sighs as I poured the first glasses of wine. We had more bottles under the stairs and I expected there to be plenty drank before the night was out.
Gary and I talked about the day’s football results. Jill poured herself more wine. There were a few jokes. No one mentioned his wife, despite our suspicions they had separated. The atmosphere changed slowly as the alcohol began to fuel the mood. Jill placed her hand on Gary’s knee, her red nails dazzling under the light. While his eyes lingered on her longer with each additional stare.
I took the initiative to leave them alone and excused myself for the toilet. I took my time climbing the stairs, a distant memory of the first night of our swinging together flashing before my eyes. We had been drunk and playing a stripping game. All four of us were finally naked, giving each other dares, but I badly needed to piss. So I went upstairs. After I had pissed, I took the time to clean my cock at the sink. Gary’s wife had been crudely declaring her need to suck it and I was desperate to suppress any chance she had of complaint. I took at least five minutes, nervously trying to pull myself hard again. I was young, anxious and naive. When I returned to the living room, my girlfriend, as Jill was at the time, was on her hands and knees, sucking Gary’s cock like a porn star. His wife was next to them, watching and encouraging her. Jill stopped only when she realised I had retaken my spot on the floor.
I pissed in our bathroom, stopped, pissed some more and flushed. I washed my hands thoroughly. If something was going to happen between Gary and Jill, I figured it was best I left them alone for as long as possible. The night was young and, if they were feeling half as nervous as I was, a few more drinks were going to be in order.
I headed back downstairs and opened the door. Gary and Jill were still sat together, quietly. Apprehension accentuated the air. I flopped onto the sofa and made a comment about a referee’s decision in the early kick-off. My fiancée leaned forward and set down her glass on the centre table. I noticed the fixture list for the following day in the newspaper and composed a comment in my mind. When I looked up, Jill’s lips were against his. Gently touching another man. Kissing. Devoid of tongue. She was smiling, somewhat placated by his obvious nervousness. Gary pulled away first, and reached for the bottle. He poured more wine.
They both drank.
Jill giggled, smiled again and leaned back in to him. She placed her arms around his neck and met his mouth in the middle. Their lips opened. Their tongues entwined. Smooches and saliva were swapped. Gary’s lines creased as he grinned. Jill’s skin relaxed as her smile faded to a pleasurable moan.
I was straining in my trousers. The sight of my fiancée enjoying a most intimate experience with another man was swiftly defining. I had no woman there to enjoy. No partner of his to take as my own. I was not part of their equation. It was both different and exciting.
Their lips smacked. Their eyes occasionally opened. Snatched a glance. Closed. Her fingers roamed his hair. His knee rose nervously, clashing with Jill’s, then fell. His hand reached out, found her waist and clasped. Jill’s smile widened. His tongue brushed the outside of her lip.
Several minutes passed before they finally broke the kiss for another drink. Exhalations marked their excitement. Repercussions faded in lieu of recurrence. Gary’s boldness grew. His hand wandered, grazing the outline of her figure, tracing her skirt from its beginning to its end. His fingertips rubbed her stocking tops. Her eyes lit up. Their attraction heightened. Her legs dutifully parted, and she smiled to me across the room.
I returned it as Gary’s hand passed her stocking to her naked thigh.
His palm travelled higher.
Her breasts heaved as she breathed.
His hand disappeared altogether under the denim of her skirt.
Jill’s eyes and mouth opened. She leaned towards him as his hand moved between her legs.
I quietly moved for a closer look.
Gary gently caressed her cheek and brought her mouth to his, kissing her gently. Jill panted suddenly.
I looked down. He was rubbing the outside of my fiancée’s g-string panties, pushing the material into her pussy.
“Fetch my mobile phone, Matt,” she ordered suddenly.
“What?” I asked.
Gary stopped touching her.
Jill’s fingers wrapped suddenly around his arm and pulled him back to her pussy. “Get me my mobile… Now.”
I was confused, but saw little reason to disobey her.
“Touch it like it belongs to you,” Jill said to him, as I entered the kitchen.
When I returned with her mobile, they were kissing with a fiery passion. Her fingers hauled his head to hers. His mouth ravished the lips of hers. Jill’s g-string was pulled to the side. Gary inserted his first finger.
I stood unnoticed, with her mobile outstretched in my hand, for over a minute while he manipulated her most delicious of inner sanctums. Her beautiful eyes were shut, lost in her growing lust. Shame shook the steadiness in my knees and threatened the balance in the balls of my feet. I was reduced to a mere servant, forced the indignity of watching another man pleasure my wife-to-be. Pleasures which she herself had refused to permit me for days on end.
But it was what I had wanted. What I had encouraged. What I had practically begged for. To watch my Jill with another man.
“Thank you,” she said finally, and took the mobile phone. Her fingers scrolled downwards, hit a contact and put the phone to her ear. Several seconds passed without explanation. “Hello, I’d like to order a taxi.”
Gary and I looked at each other as she called out the name of a local pub. The arrangements had been made for a night in. A kinky night in. What was she planning? The frustration on Gary’s face was a match for my own as she ended the call.
“Oh, Gary, don’t stop fingering me,” Jill told him, and melted when he complied. “Yes!” They were kissing again within seconds. She rubbed his crotch, then momentarily broke the kiss to slip out of her cardigan, revealing the bare flesh of her shoulders and arms.
“Why did you make that call, Jill?” I asked.
She giggled, taking Gary’s tongue again, then moaned as his fingers worked deep inside her.
“Why have you ordered us a taxi?” I demanded, her ignorance affecting my tone.
Jill kissed him harder and nibbled on his lower lip.
I sighed. She was in complete control. Nothing I said, whether in defiance or subservience, would change her behaviour.
The kiss was broken. “The taxi isn’t for us, baby.” She squeezed Gary’s cock through his trousers at the final word, teasing me with a phrase she usually reserved for when we were in private. “I’ve ordered it for you.” Jill stood up and found the zip of her denim skirt. “I’m going to fuck my boyfriend, and I don’t want you around when I do it.”
My insides crashed together. Butterflies in my stomach became fireworks in my chest. My heart pounded. Amok with betrayal and with punishment. And yet there were no words of protest which escaped my lips.
Jill pulled down her skirt, revealing her g-string clad ass in all its glory. Her red heels stepped out. She was dressed only in her stunning lingerie. Lingerie I had bought her. Lingerie I loved her in. And lingerie she rarely indulged in wearing for me anymore. She straddled Gary, his legs relaxing beneath her. Jealousy pumped through my veins. Gary’s hands mauled her backside. They kissed again. She rubbed herself up and down on his crotch. His erection was poking through his trousers and she glided her pussy over it with expert precision.
“I can’t wait for you to fuck me when he leaves,” Jill told him.
“I will… I’ll fuck you really hard,” Gary replied, shedding his shyness.
My cock fought for freedom in the restraints of its coffin. My mind muddled through a multiple myriad of possibilities and probabilities. The sexual extremities of their impending night of passion was upon us. I lost myself in the impossible aftermath of my leaving. Would I seriously allow my fiancée to fuck another man without me around? Her adultery fantasy – my fantasy of her adultery – had fuelled our fantasies for years. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Could… I?
Her g-string stretched around the crack of her ass as she splayed her legs and invited Gary closer.
Then I was struck suddenly, shattering the charade. Of course! I was supposed to fall for Jill’s bluff. She hadn’t ordered a taxi at all. It was merely her creative attempt to turn me on. And it had worked. My suffering – my humiliation at her maliciousness – had stretched my cock to new lengths. My need for her expanding forcefully to new heights. For her sexuality. For her sensuality. For her downright degradation.
Jill malevolently swooped her tongue down from above, molesting Gary’s mouth. Her body curved and craved to his touch.
I faded further into her irrelevance, and my testicles bloated in twisted appreciation.
“I need your cock, Gary,” Jill said. “I wish that taxi would hurry up.”
I smiled. Every part of her effort for the evening had been perfect. The elaborate hoax all the more thrilling because it had been her creation alone, and never discussed nor implied beforehand.
A horn triple-blasted outside.
“Oh, about time,” she said.
My eyes darted from Jill to the curtains and back again. She was dry-humping Gary, seizing his neck and staring lustfully into his eyes.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
I was almost certain Jill whispered something in his ear.
My heart pumped faster as I stood. I crossed the room to the window, looking back at their coupling in agonising, embarrassing fury. I pulled back the curtain and peered outside. “Fuck!” There was a vehicle at the end of the driveway. A red roof light in view. “You really booked it?”
Jill sighed, her frustration clear. “Yes.” She kissed his lips. “Now get out, Matt.” Gary’s fingertips fell inside the thin g-string at her ass. “This is your punishment. You know what for.” She rubbed his cock through his trousers. “Tonight, I really do belong to Gary.”
“Yeah,” he said, and gave her ass a playful spank and a squeeze.
There was an unplanned, worthless feeling to my demise, as I stood watching him take charge of my fiancée. It was a step I had neither anticipated nor sought to indulge. Yet somehow I found myself stood at the living room door, preparing to comply with Jill’s demand that they be left alone. I struggled, yet internally acknowledged that I would do whatever she wanted. I stared, wishing for permission to stay. Preparing for compromise, willing to retreat alone upstairs while they fucked. Willing to listen and to imagine. To masturbate and be grateful.
Jill whispered. Definitely this time.
Gary looked at me, then whispered back to her, his hands on her waist now in a complete display of ownership.
Jill turned her head to me. “You can…” Her eyes erotic. “Leave…” Devilish. “Now.”
“Go, Matt. Have a few drinks and unwind. Gary wants me to himself, and what he wants he gets.” Jill’s glance to him was stamped with devotion. “He’s the man of the house when he’s here.” Their lips met. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, and his fingers caressed the naked flesh of her ass.
I was staring.
“Get out, Matt,” she said, louder. “And take a good mental image of this with you.”
My reluctance ceded to Jill’s dominance. My terror capitulated to her desire. My possession surrendered to her debauchery. I allowed the living room door to gently close behind me, watching her in his arms one last time.
“Don’t forget to lock the front door,” Jill called. “Unless you don’t mind someone walking in and catching another man fucking your wife-to-be.”
I went to a different pub than the one the taxi was ordered for. One where I was less likely to bump into someone I knew. My mind would never focus on any conversation and I wanted to be left alone. Such thoughts that I had going through my mind. Such imagery she had planted.
I ordered a pint of beer and found a table. I took out my mobile and set it before me. I watched it like a hawk, hoping to receive a text or a call about what was happening. My cock was hard within seconds. I contemplated texting Jill, writing out several beginnings but neither finishing nor sending any.
I was fortunate when a gorgeous barmaid came to lift my empty glass and asked if I wanted the same again. A trip to the bar was something I couldn’t possibly achieve.
The time on the phone told me I had been away for over half an hour. It would take no longer than that again to drink a second beer. How long was I supposed to wait for?
“There you go,” said the barmaid.
I gave her the precise change and watched her tight ass as she walked back to the bar. She was anywhere between 18 and 21. Every man’s eyes were upon her. I thought of Jill, and wondered what was happening to her right at that moment. Another man’s eyes were on her, of that I was certain. The blood surged to my cock and I downed a good mouthful of my pint.
My phone lit up. 1 message received. There was a catapult of excitement in my stomach. My fingers raced to unlock. My eyes focused to read.
“Fuck sake,” I complained aloud.
A simple network standard text to inform me I was now benefiting from- I hit delete without reading anymore.
My compassion for Jill’s desire to explore her sexuality with someone else – someone with whom she was already sexually familiar – convoluted and contorted within the memory of the disparaging dismissal I had received. Jealousy tore at my arousal. Disbelief drained at my composure. I fixed my erection as best I could under the table, hoping not to draw unnecessary attention.
I finished the second beer and wondered whether I should leave. Jill hadn’t told me how I would know when to return. What if they were finished and she expected me home earlier than this? What if I turned up and she was furious at my interruption? I held the thought. Jill was my fiancée. I could handle her hostility.
I stood up and held my mobile phone in front of my crotch. I crossed the bar to the exit and placed a call to the taxi company.
Circumstance melted my resolve, giving rise to aggravation, as I was told there would be no taxis available for another hour.
Traffic thundered by.
I insisted it was an emergency, suggesting I would be willing to share a taxi if any were already booked for the pub. The woman on the end of the line checked.
I waited. My heart pounded as I recalled Gary’s hands on Jill’s magnificent rear. His tongue in her mouth.
“I’m sorry, there’s no taxis booked for where you are.”
I hung up. My frustration somehow only adding to my arousal.
Rihanna’s We Found Love pumped from inside the pub. A group of three sexy, young women walked towards me in short skirts and knee-high boots. One of them smiled as they passed. They would make for a welcome distraction. Then my mind conjured an image of Jill bent over the coffee table, taking a doggy style fucking and screaming with desire.
I started the walk home. It would only take twenty minutes or so.
When I got to the front door it had been raining heavily for the last five minutes. I put my key in the lock. But it wouldn’t open. I tried again, blaming the beer. But no – someone had locked it from the inside, and left the key in! My jealousy stirred to new heights, humiliation bordering upon insult. Whatever was happening inside, Jill didn’t want me barging in.
I knocked and knocked. Several times and yet there was no answer. I grabbed my mobile and dialled her number at once. It rang and rang. There was a fury growing inside now. If she ignored me completely…
Jill answered, giggling. “What is it?”
“Can you let me in please?” There was sarcasm to my manners. “I’m standing at the front door and someone’s put a key in the door.”
She laughed. “Yes, we’re not long finished.”
I hung up and waited patiently for close to a minute. It was Gary who opened the door and allowed me into my own home. He was wearing only his trousers. There was an awkwardness between us. He was the quiet type at the best of times and I was utterly lost for words myself. Although I bore him no animosity. It was my fiancée who had changed the rules.
Jill wasn’t to be found in the living room. I walked through to the kitchen, also empty, and finally into the conservatory where I could only stand and stare at her sitting naked on a sofa, with her legs closed together but not crossed.
“What if Sebastian or Francesca, or old man Jenkins on the other side, looks over the fence and sees you like that?” I said.
“Don’t be silly,” she replied, and looked at my wet clothes. “Nobody in their right mind would be out in that weather.”
Gary entered the room and sat beside her, slipping an arm around her bare waist.
“Besides,” Jill continued, “he likes me like this.”
Gary nodded. “Absolutely.”
It seemed instinctive when she leaned into him, his arm wrapping around her even tighter. It didn’t appear to matter that I was there. When Gary was in the house, Jill was apparently his. The distinction scared me. The image of him and her enticed me. The chemistry between them shamefully arousing me.
I sat opposite and watched, dying to ask a dozen questions. Yet for some reason I couldn’t. Not while he was there. I was embarrassed. I was disgraced. Gary had assumed ownership of my wife-to-be and somehow I felt under his authority. As crazy as that sounded.
“You’d love to know what we did, wouldn’t you?” Jill was calculating in her taunting.
I felt so humiliated, and yet I admired her cunning.
“Wouldn’t you?” she insisted.
They were both watching me, his hand caressing her right breast. I looked to the floor.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” Jill turned and whispered something to Gary. It was drowned out by the rain beating against the conservatory roof.
“Look at her,” Gary ordered, though his voice was calm and not very loud.
I could feel my face redden as I looked up. “Yes,” I said.
“Yes what?” she demanded.
“Yes, I would like to know what you did while I was out.”
“Like?” Gary asked.
I was silent.
“Gary asked you a question, Matt, answer it or you’ll be sent out again.” Jill had such a dominant tone to her voice that I dared not tempt her again.
“I would love to know what happened,” I admitted. We had enjoyed years of incredible, mind-blowing sex. That Jill had been alone with Gary was both devising and destroying my night.
“Well…” She parted her legs and slipped two fingers into her pussy. “Mmmmmm.” I wanted her sex there and then. “Oh…” There was something glistening when she pulled out her fingers again. “You can tell what this is can’t you, Matt?.” She stared at me, neither offering nor implying apology. “I let another man cum in my pussy.”
I was seething, staring at her fingers and doubting first my eyes, then her words. This was something we had discussed together in private detail. Jill had confessed a catastrophic lust for the sperm of another man to swim inside her. The sperm of this man. I was repulsed by the idea, and argued my point. His vasectomy didn’t matter. Precaution failing to serve as predilection for her argument. He could cum on her, I thought we agreed, but not inside her.
Jill smiled at me as she rubbed his cum into her pussy lips. My head was spinning, my heart pounding and every inch of me awash with nerves. The cruellest of betrayals and yet my balls were bulging.
“Jealous?” Jill asked.
“Yes,” I admitted.
She laughed, crossed her legs and kissed his chest. “I think this is going to be a regular thing.”
“I hope so,” Gary said.
Jill ran her hand down to his crotch. “Oh my God, Gary, you’re hard again.” She looked at me. “Matt, go pour yourself a beer.”
I did as I was told and entered the kitchen. I opened a tin and was pouring it into a pint glass when I looked through the window, viewing into the conservatory, and saw Jill pull down Gary’s trousers. I watched her take his cock into her mouth. When I finished pouring, I rushed back into the conservatory.
Jill looked at me as she held his cock an inch from her lips. “Who told you that you could watch?”
“Fuck sake, Jill,” I said. I was no longer in the mood to be out of the room. I wouldn’t let her force me to leave again. Enough was enough.
“Let him watch,” Gary suggested.
“Do you mind?” she asked, wanking his cock slowly, treating him as lord of the manor.
“Okay.” She looked up to me, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “You can sit over there in the corner, Matt, but no interruptions. I’m going to give my boyfriend a wonderful blowjob and nothing is going to get in my way.”
I sat on the chair on the other side of the room, my head repeating her reference to him as her boyfriend. I both loved and hated the idea. Desired and despised. Found it as wonderful as it was worrying. I watched, breathing in a fantastic view of her ass as she bent over on her knees to take him deep into her throat. I could see some of what she was doing, but not all of it. The rain beat harder on the roof, droning out his moans.
Jill pulled her mouth away from him for a split-second. “Your cock is so fucking beautiful, Gary.” I knew she was saying it as much for my ears as his, teasing my love of dirty talk. She slipped it back inside and sucked up and down for several seconds, then licked the shaft down to his balls and back up again. “The head is so big.”
I wanted to masturbate as I watched.
“I can’t wait til you cum in my mouth.”
I felt unable to in my home.
“Will you cum in my mouth?”
I noticed Jill’s free hand play with her pussy, the juices evident. Were they hers or his or a mixture? Her tongue was all over his balls.
“I’m gonna swallow every drop and clean you up after.”
I wanted to come behind her and fuck her pussy hard as she returned to sucking his cock. I was desperate to, but the rules we had set in place beforehand were clear. This was her night of one-on-one sex with him. A threesome was out of the question. I was out of the equation.
“If you were my husband I’d do this to you everyday,” Jill promised, then her blonde hair bobbed back and forth on his crotch.
Gary grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down deep, his hips forcing his cock to fuck her mouth hard. Jill gleefully swallowed his length, moaning, purring and playing with her pussy underneath. Gary grunted and yelled a tremendous roar. His body appeared to spasm. I was frozen on the spot, useless and helpless, unable to react. My eyes zeroed on his member in her mouth. Powerful and pulsating. He was emptying load after load of hidden cum between her lips.
Jill guzzled it down – behaviour which she had relegated in our relationship to once per year.
She swept her hair away from one side of her face, manoeuvred her mouth around his cock and swallowed the final load of his ejaculation. Her pupil shifted in her eye. Shifted to me. Crude and perverse. Erotic and elusive. Denied and exclusive. I was subjugated in her manner. Subjugated to him.
“That was incredible,” Gary groaned, as Jill licked slowly around his circumcised head. “You’re amazing, Jill.”
Gary dropped his feet to the floor, grabbed Jill under her arms and threw her onto the sofa, spreading her legs and diving his face into her pussy. Jill squealed as his tongue licked up and down her lips.
“You taste fantastic,” he stated, then circled her clit with acute precision, rested his tongue on her centre for several seconds and finally clamped her entire sex under his lips.
Was he using his teeth on my fiancée’s most sensitive part? I couldn’t tell. I couldn’t know. Her face, contorted by lust, longing and a passionate, growing liveliness, invoked primal feelings of misogyny in my mind, erupting similar urges of rampant arousal in my loins. I was locked in a static sense of disorder, unable to react or to respond. Commit or comprehend. Caught between sensations of commiseration and congratulation. Happiness and misery collided. Desire and disdain mocked laughter, and restraint rode over my every impulse.
Gary added his fingers, first to her clit, then to her insides.
Jill’s naked body surrendered to his touch. Her breasts shivering. Her teeth chattering. Her throat expelling a succession of sensual, menacing moans.
I was terrified of the neighbours hearing her and turned on the stereo. Metallica’sBlack Album, the last CD I had listened to, blasted suddenly out of the speakers. Neither Gary nor Jill appeared to notice. Or care.
She ran her hands over his head and pulled him closer. Her eyes were shut, her body close to shuddering at his mercy. “You’ve no idea how good that is,” she said.
Gary’s physical appetite increased with her encouragement, and he pounded his fingers into her pussy.
“Oh my God,” Jill cried. “Keep doing that… Fuck…”
Gary grunted an animalistic tone and shoved his hand deeper between her lips.
Jill indignantly squirted her juices into his face, and yanked him tighter to her pussy.
Gary relinquished his roving mouth to her gush, burying himself in her expulsion. He lapped at her labia, providing his tongue as a ventricle for her vagina’s most gruesome and brilliant ejaculate.
My genitals generated a shocking protrusion in my trousers, scraping the material and fighting my mind and my manners to shatter the shackles of conscious control. The urges were overwhelming. The need for relief devastating. The impossible situation ordering a cacophony of concordance in my head.
“Fuck, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” Jill confessed in a frenzy.
I looked at her face.
She was staring back at me, smiling and knowing I would never forget a single word. That her sentences would ricochet in my head for several weeks and months to come. That I would relive the moment over and over again.
“I wish you could do that to me every night,” she said.
Gary grunted below her.
Jill bit her lip as her body jerked again, reverberating under another round of gushing. She tried to force her eyes onto me throughout the moment, but Gary’s momentum carried her forward. His fingers driving into her at phenomenal speed. She tried to hold my stare once more, until her body inevitably surrendered to the superiority of his touch.
“Keep… Doing… That.” Her body was beginning to shake. “I’m… Gonna… Cum.” Her orgasm was earth-shattering, her naked form bouncing over the sofa and held down only by his grip on her thighs. She tried to pull away.
Gary held her in place and teased pleasure beyond her limits.
“No,” she begged. “Please.”
He gave a final lick of her pussy and released her.
Jill collapsed onto the sofa. Her eyes glazed. Her hair a mess. Her naked body an image of penetrated filth.
Gary touched the back of her knee, ran his hand up to her ass cheeks and gently brushed against the lips of her pussy.
Jill began to shake once more, her body threatening to squirt again, and she pushed him away.
I rubbed the scar on my temple with my fingertips. New boundaries of pleasure had been broken in her. Something would never be the same again.
I turned off the music.
“That was amazing,” Jill said after a couple of minutes, flipping onto her back.
“I know,” Gary agreed, and pulled her into his arms.
I watched my naked wife-to-be in the arms of a naked man, listened to them complement each other some more and struggled to sit still. I had never needed release more in my life. I felt like a young teenager experiencing arousal for the first time, fighting the most desperate of urges to be alone.
“I need the toilet,” I said, and walked out of the room. It was tempting to jerk off over what I had witnessed, but I was lying and only pretended to leave. I closed the living room door to the stairs and crept back to the kitchen, eager to discover their secrets.
There was silence for twenty or thirty seconds, broken only by occasional sounds of their smooching.
“I really got off on humiliating him.”
“I hope he’s okay,” Gary said. “I wouldn’t want there to be any animosity between us.”
“He should be okay. He wanted me to do it.”
“Did he know you were going to send him to the pub?”
Jill laughed. “No, I told him I’d send him upstairs for a while or take you upstairs and make him wait down here. He was up for that, but I didn’t think he’d be able to help himself from joining us.”
“You are so beautiful, Jill,” he said. There was another kiss. “You’ll have to come down to my house next time.”
“Do you think he’ll allow you?”
“I’ll come down whether he allows me or not. If he says no, I’ll just tell him I’m going to my sister’s.”
Despite everything I had experienced, this threat was something which still struck me unexpectedly. Jill was treading a dangerous line between game and affair. My cock ached.
“I don’t mind him watching,” Gary began, “but I’d love to have you on your own again, Jill. That was the best part of the night… Something I’ve waited years for.”
She giggled, saying nothing, then I heard them kiss.
I was preparing to sneak back to the living room and abruptly open the door to upstairs when she broke the kiss and asked him, “Do you want to take a photo of me on your phone?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
“Then do it. Quickly. Before Matt comes back.”
Terror seized my stance. The thoughts of Gary carrying a clandestine picture of my fiancée on his mobile phone were both dangerous and erotic. But I was compounded by fear. Fear he would dare show the image to someone else. That he would boast and brag about having fucked this younger stunning blonde. That he would forward the image to a series of friends. That one person would know another who would recognise Jill and the secret of their illustrious involvement would be unleashed.
I was caught in the moment. There was no time to interrupt.
“Spread your legs,” he said.
I surmised she was allowing him a close-up of her pussy.
“That’s beautiful, Jill.”
A pose in which she couldn’t be identified.
“Smile,” he said.
I heard the camera click. I felt my betrayal fulfilled.
“You look wonderful.”
He would possess a part of her now. A part which would remain a mystery to me. My imagination was running wild. How much of her nudity had Jill shared with his camera?
“Stay as late as you can,” she said. “Matt’s going to want me to tell him everything that happened while he was away and I’m too tired for it tonight.”
“If I stay any longer, Jill, I’m gonna want to fuck you again.”
My hands were trembling. My cock and balls aching for release. For her. What I had started was spiralling out of my control. Jill and Gary wanted to see each other again. At his house. Was this the beginning of an addiction? And if so, was it hers or mine? Or his? My arousal only distilled further confusion within.
I feared the come down. The potential regrets when I finally achieved my release.
I heard them embrace again.
“Don’t tempt me,” she said.
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