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A Happy Cuckold: Book one
“Who was that?” I asked curiously.
“Oh, that’s Marco,” my wife replied casually. “He’s very sweet.”
We were in Maggie’s favorite coffee shop. Marco had just delivered our coffees.
She noticed my eager expression and let out a laugh.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “Anyway, he’s old enough to be my son.”
That seemed unlikely. My wife was in her late twenties, and Marco looked to be about twenty-three, twenty-four. A well-dressed, handsome young man with olive skin and dark, well-groomed hair.
“He was checking you out,” I said.
He had been. Undoubtedly.
She laughed again and gave me a playful swipe on the arm.
“Stop it, Nick,” she said. “Don’t be getting any of your silly ideas.”
I gave a bashful smile. Maggie knew my fantasy was for her to sleep with another man. She tolerated it as a fantasy and nothing more.
For my part, I’d almost completely accepted that my ultimate desire would never be realized. But a man could dream, couldn’t he?
I adjusted my position in my seat as I felt my cock begin to swell slightly. I imagined my wife spreading her pretty legs high and wide
for him, her beautiful eyes widening as he slid into her wet, hot pussy.
My cock grew further.
My wife gave a bemused smile as if she could read my mind.
“Drink your coffee,” she said in finality.
We finished our coffees in comfortable silence before I called Marco over to pay. He really was a very good-looking young man. I could imagine he had his choice of women. And I was sure that given the opportunity, he would choose my wife. Who wouldn’t? She was a stunner: glossy shoulder-length hair, a pretty face with a cute stub nose, and a figure that drove other women mad with jealousy.
I watched in excitement as he gave my wife a broad smile which she coyly returned.
“Your coffee was good?” he asked my wife.
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “Thank you so much, Marco.”
He turned to me. “You’re a very lucky man,” he said, causing my wife to blush further. “Your wife is magnificent.”
His Italian-accented voice was confident and strong.
“I know,” I agreed with a broad smile.
He couldn’t be more right. I was incredibly lucky. But, if she’d just do this one thing for me, I’d be the happiest man in the world.
I had no idea why I desired this so much. Perhaps it was better left as a fantasy.
My cock was already hard but grew infinitely stiffer at her next words. “He wouldn’t be interested anyway…”
“He would,” I gasped. “Of course, he would.”
Her pussy had quickly grown wetter, and I allowed myself to imagine it was because she was thinking about Marco.
“Do you think so, baby?” she gasped as my fingers began to rub on her swollen clit.
“Yes,” I gasped urgently. “Yes.”
“Really, baby? Do you think he’d like to take me with his big cock?”
I groaned in arousal. She knew exactly what to say to push my buttons.
“Fuck me now, Marco,” she breathed. “Fuck me.”
Her words almost caused me to spurt right then. I knew she was only saying it because it excited me, but she was sodden now. Perhaps it was exciting her a little bit?
I quickly changed position to lie between her splayed legs and position my cock-head at the entrance to her slippery heat.
“Fuck me, Marco,” she said, her eyes sparkling. “Fuck me like my husband can’t.”
I thrust into her with a groan of intense arousal. She gasped in pleasure.
“Oh, you’re so big, Marco,” she teased. “Not like my husband.”
“How do I look?” she asked later that evening as we were preparing to leave.
I allowed my eyes to drink in the sight of her.
“You look stunning,” I answered truthfully.
She did. She’s slipped into a tight red dress that left her shoulders and smooth thighs bare. It clung tightly to every swell and curve of her body, highlighting her full chest and narrow waist.
I noticed with disappointment though, that she was wearing a bra.
“Perhaps no bra?” I asked hopefully.
She gave a snort of amusement. “Don’t be silly,” she replied.
Noticing my downcast expression, she spoke again. “But perhaps I’m not wearing any panties.”
“Really?” I asked eagerly.
“Perhaps,” she repeated with a coy smile.
Well, even if it wasn’t true, I could imagine, I thought to myself as my cock grew slightly. God, she looked amazing.
She slipped her feet into a pair of high-heeled sandals.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
I nodded excitedly. “Yeah… Those heels are really nice.”
“Thanks, baby,” she said. “They are, aren’t they? I’m almost as tall as Marco in them.”
She laughed at my shocked expression and took my hand.
“Come on, you weirdo,” she said with a wry smile.
The club was intimate, dark and hot.
As I had suspected would happen, we had barely ordered our drinks when someone approached my wife to ask her to dance.
“OH,” she said, looking at me. “Is that alright, Nick?”
Was she kidding? Of course, it was alright.
“Sure,” I said benevolently. “You have fun, sweetheart. You know I’m not much of a dancer.”
“Oh, OK,” she said, accepting the young man’s hand. “I’ll be back soon.”
For the next hour, I sat at the bar in my own personal heaven as a succession of young men twirled my wife on the dance floor, pressing their bodies to hers and allowing their hands to roam over her body...down her slender back, around her tiny waist, and occasionally down the back of her thighs and to her tight, firm buttocks.
Every so often, she would return to the bar, panting and excited, to gulp at her drink before another man whisked her away. She looked like she was having a great time. And so was I.
But still no Marco, I mused. Maybe he wasn’t coming?
I lost sight of Maggie momentarily in the throng of twisting, sweaty bodies.
As I slipped out of her, she spoke.
“More,” she said decisively. “More.”
I quickly pulled my pants to my waist and allowed her to lead me to the bedroom.
She was insatiable. It seemed that no matter how many times I took her to climax, she needed more. Normally I would have been physically unable to accommodate her needs. But, each time my cock wilted, she knew exactly how to get me hard again.
“I could feel his cock through his pants when we were dancing,” she would breath.” It felt so big… so strong.”
Almost instantly, my cock would begin to grow.
Or, “He took me to the bathroom,” she would breath. “And told me to get on my knees.”
Moaning, I would stiffen.
Or, “He said he wants to fuck me. I’ve got his address. I’m going there tomorrow.”
All manner of things she told me until finally, we both collapsed into an exhausted, tangled heap on the bed to fall into dreamless sleep.
She looked at me, slightly embarrasse,d the next morning.
“Please, baby,” she pleaded. “Let’s forget all the things I said. It was just to keep you hard. None of it had happened. I don’t know what came over me.”
Forget about it? There was no way I’d ever forget. It had been intensely erotic. The words that had come from her mouth had driven me insane with desire. And her body had never felt so good under mine, so responsive, so desperate. We’d never had a night of lovemaking like it.
“Of course,” I said reassuringly. “It was just for fun. I understand.”
“Thanks,” she said before giving me a small smile. “It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“It was fucking amazing,” I enthused. “You are so hot.”
She gave another tiny smile. “Do you think Marco thinks so?” she teased.
I let out a growl and moved to grab her, his name almost instantly sending blood coursing to my cock.
“No,” she squealed in protest, twisting away. “I was just teasing, baby. I’m sorry.”
I let out an exhalation of breath, calming myself. “You can’t say those things around me,” I cautioned her with a smile. “Unless you’re prepared to pay the price.”
“I know,” she said in wonder. “I know…”
Midweek found us once more in the coffee shop. As we waited for a waiter, I noticed Maggie glancing around the room as if looking for someone.
“Are you looking for Marco?” I asked gently.
She blushed. “No,” she protested. “Just a waiter.”
Gradually her thaw chilled. After shopping and returning to the house for a couple of hours, she was almost her usual self again.
“You’re such an idiot,” she said affectionately. “But he’s not interested in me, and even if he were, nothing would happen.”
“OK,” I said lightly.
She looked at me thoughtfully for several seconds.
“You should be careful what you wish for,” she finally said.
“I know,” I agreed. I was just happy that she was speaking to me normally once again. It had been a pretty sneaky move on my part. I’d make it up to her later somehow.
“Watch the pot while I get dressed,” she said, apparently mollified.
“It’s just a stew. All you have to do is make sure it doesn’t boil over. Oh, and set the table.”
I pottered around the kitchen and set the table as she showered and dressed.
“Get that,” she called down.
I moved to the door to let Marco in, seat him, and fetch him a drink.
He rose as my wife entered the room, and I saw his eyes widen, and his jaw drop slightly.
When I looked over at my wife, I saw why. Was she trying to get back at me? If so, it wasn’t working at all. She looked amazing.
She’s put on more makeup than usual. Not enough to be slutty, but certainly enough to bring out the best features of her face: her beautiful eyes, her cute nose, and her pouty lips.
Her torso was encased in a tailored, white blouse, open at the front to display a deep cleavage. It was clear to all that she was wearing no bra. Her smooth thighs were almost completely bare. Just a tiny red skirt covered her groin, and her feet had been pushed into high stilettos.
My God. She never dressed like this. She must have dressed like this for him. My cock began to unfurl at the thought, and my stomach flipped excitedly.
“You look amazing,” Marco enthused, offering her the bouquet of flowers he had brought.
“Thank you, Marco,” she responded politely as they exchanged the traditional European greeting of a kiss on both cheeks.
I noticed his hands linger on her narrow waist as they did so.
“Honey, could you put these in water, please.”
“Yes,” I answered, stunned and taking them from her.
When I returned from the kitchen, she was seated next to him, looking into his face as if entranced by whatever he was saying.
She squirmed in her seat slightly as she repeatedly tried to stop the short material of her skirt from riding up her thighs. I noticed his eyes guiltily jerk away from the sight as I entered the room.
“Shall we eat?” I said pleasantly in an attempt to put him at his ease.
“Oh, yes,” my wife replied as if suddenly remembering that Marco wasn’t the only one in the house. “Let’s.”
“Yes, baby,” I said. “Yes.”
“What if he says no?” she asked in a worried tone.
“He won’t say no,” I assured her. “No man would.”
“OK. OK. OK,” she said, trying to calm herself. “I’ll wait in the bedroom. If he comes in, then I’ll do it. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to find a different coffee shop. Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m so nervous.”
I couldn’t believe it either. It was finally happening.
“You’re sure?” she asked once more.
I nodded, my power of speech suddenly absent.
“OK,” she said, laying a tender kiss on my lips.
“Go, now,” she continued urgently. “Go and ask him before I change my mind.”
“I love you,” I said with a broad smile.
She laid her hands on my upper arms to twist me around and push me back into the living room.
“Everything alright?” asked Marco. “I think I might get going. Thanks so much for the meal.”
I was nervous myself now. I’d never asked anyone this before.
“Marco,” I said, sitting opposite him and looking into his eyes. “Maggie really likes you.”
“I really like her too,” he answered easily. “She’s a lovely lady. You’re a very lucky man.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But that’s not what I mean. I mean that she really, really likes you.”
He gave me a confused look back before understanding seemed to come to him.
“Oh…” he said, processing the information. “But…”
I swallowed. “She’s waiting for you now, in the bedroom. I won’t disturb the two of you.”
“Mama mia,” he breathed. “But you don’t mind?”
“No, Marco,” I assured him. “It’s absolutely fine. Honestly, you’d be doing us both a favor.”
I waited on tenterhooks as he remained silent.
Finally, his mouth broke into a wide grin.
“OK,” he said. “I’d love to.”
A curious mix of relief and apprehension flooded through me.
I matched his wide grin with one of my own.
“Come on then,” I said. “I’ll show you where the bedroom is. Stay as long as you like.”
“I almost can’t believe this,” he said, standing.
Me and you both, pal, I thought to myself as I led him up the stairs.
As they kissed, I watched his hands slide down to her waist and then around to grasp her firm buttocks tightly and pull her closer.
She mewled happily through the kiss, pressing her svelte body to his.
Her sex began to rub unconsciously against his thigh.
My breathing was shallow and rapid now, the pressure in my cock engulfing my whole body. Harder, I rubbed at myself. And still harder.
The pressure broke. To the sight of my beautiful wife pressing her semi-naked body to this handsome young man, I came.
It took all my effort to stifle my groans of ecstasy as cum spurted from my cock to stain my underwear and pants in sticky dampness.
As my wife reached her hands up to his chest to begin undoing his shirt, I spurted again. And again, I spurted as she undid the first of his shirt buttons.
I don’t know how quiet I managed to keep my groans. Perhaps they were so engrossed in each other that they simply didn’t hear. But I’m sure some sounds must have entered the room.
I felt the first stings of humiliation as the thrill of climax faded, and my cock began to wilt. What was I doing? This had gone too far, surely. Perhaps I should stop this. I could stop this now…
I remained where I was however, my eye pressed to the tiny gap.
My wife’s fingers were more frantic on his shirt buttons now, almost ripping the front of his shirt apart. She broke off their kiss to giggle slightly.
His words seemed to encourage her. She began to bob her face on his thick cock, taking more and more of him into her eager mouth.
Slurping, sucking sounds reached my ears, further exciting me.
I wanted to delay my orgasm but could not. Electricity surged from my cock through my body as once more I soiled my pants and underwear with my essence.
I whimpered in dismay as he reached down his hands to grasp her by the shoulders and bring her to her feet.
Reluctantly, she allowed his glistening cock to fall from her mouth.
“I want to make love to you,” he explained. “I want you to feel my cock.”
“Yes, Marco,” she replied, moving towards the bed.
I groaned louder in dismay as they moved out of view. No matter how much I craned my neck, I could not see.
The shame returned. My wife was about to be taken by a younger, stronger man, and I was crouching behind the door playing with myself. And I was enjoying it. I shivered in self-loathing and in excitement.
There was silence for several minutes apart from the slight creaking of the bed and my tortured breathing. And then my wife’s soft moans reached my ears. Over the next couple of minutes, these soft moans became more intense, mingling with his deeper grunts.
And with these beautiful sounds, my cock began to ache once more.
Had he taken her yet? I didn’t think so. And I was right. The moment he entered her was unmistakable.
She let out a long, gasping moan as, grunting, he pushed himself inside her slippery heat.
“Oh God,” I heard her moan. That was the last coherent word that came from her lips for the next five minutes. Instead, increasingly fevered moans, pants and gasps came from her.
These beautiful, erotic sounds grew louder and more passionate before eventually reaching a crescendo. I heard him grunt deeply as he came, spurting inside my wife’s pussy. Almost in unison, Maggie too reached climax, a long draw-out squeal coming from her lips.
Their sounds of ecstasy gradually quietened, and silence reigned but for their heavy breathing. And then, the soft moans began again.
I remained crouched outside the door, thrashing at myself repeatedly as my wife was taken to orgasm after orgasm. Twice more I came, before finally, when I was sure they were sleeping, I crept quietly to the spare bedroom to fall into a contented sleep.
The next morning, I was awakened by the sound of their lovemaking. Gentler, softer moans as if they were connecting tenderly, having grown accustomed to each other’s bodies. They weren’t fucking as they had been last night. They were making love.
The moment I heard him leave, I rushed to the bedroom.
My wife was propped up on pillows, a contended look on her face. The scent of their lovemaking was still in the air.
“Hi, baby,” she smiled coyly.
A bare thigh extended from under the sheets. I noticed excitedly that it still shook.