"I'm going out shortly. With Dave. He of the large dick and the ability to use it. Make sure this bathroom's tidy when I get back. Looks like a bomb's hit it." I flounced unnecessarily around him. The bathroom did indeed look like a bomb site: an "H" bomb, I suppose, the Harriet missile, depositing dirty clothes across the floor and leaving sundry bottles and detached bottletops on every surface.

He gave me his "more in sorrow than in anger" look. "Yes, Harriet," he mumbled. Time for the coup de grâce.

"And make sure there are clean sheets on the bed."

I knew that would get him. His little dick would be rock hard at the thought of having to make the bed ready for his wife and her lover to use when they returned from their night out. How he loved it, being my little plaything, acceding to my every whim and unreasonable demand. And how I loved him for it, sweet little nothing that he was. Truly, a marriage made in heaven. Dave thought so too...

And so we caroused, Dave and I; we danced and sang, and ate and drank, all of it paid for with the £300 which Mark gave me as I left. Well, when I say "gave", what happened was that I squeezed his nuts with one hand and pulled out his wallet with the other. He quickly saw the benefit of offloading his spare change to me.

And when the evening was over, and we were drunk and sated and horny as hell, we returned to our house, to my little man, and got ready to start the entertainment.

"Mark!" I snapped, and there was little Thumper, bouncing through from the kitchen with a cloth in his hand and an apron round his waist. "We're home. Make us some coffee. Take Dave's jacket." Dave and I went through to the living room and settled down on the sofa. He started fondling my breasts through my black blouse: a bit peremptory, I thought, a bit uncouth; a gentleman would start with a discreet squeeze of the knee, an exploratory nibble on the neck. But it suited my purposes, I suppose, and the look on Mark's face as he entered with our coffee, to see Dave's hand worming beneath my blouse and his fingers splayed across my bra, was well worth the indignity of such artless foreplay.

"Have you put new sheets on the bed?"

"Yes, your favourite silk ones."

"And have you made the spare bed?"

"No."

"Well, you'd better get on with it. That's where you're sleeping tonight. Off you go." I turned and kissed Dave full on the lips, sliding my tongue deep into his mouth as I idly waved Mark away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him sidle out, a picture of morose excitement, ecstatic in his misery. What complicated things we human beings are.

I was in danger of having a breast wrenched off by Dave, who was becoming more neanderthal by the moment, and thought it politic to retire to the bedroom. We ascended with the grace of a drunkard racing to the bar at last orders, and headed for the bedroom: our bedroom, the bedroom belonging to Mark and me. Except poor Mark was quietly making up a bed for himself in the spare room, while I was leading a handsome lover towards the delights of my bed.

We undressed quickly, and I admired Dave's well-toned body. He had a clearly defined six-pack and his shoulders were broad and firm, with biceps bulging and forearms almost as thick as my leg. His upper body was completely hairless, and in the light of the bedside lamp his skin glowed fresh and enticing. I kissed his nipple, then bit it gently, tugging it into my mouth. My hands slid around his waist and I spread my fingers wide over his buttocks, feeling the rippling strength of his muscles. His cock was semi-erect, its hot length grazing against my stomach, a fluttering sample of what lay ahead. I sighed with satisfaction.

I lay back on the bed, naked, and beckoned my lover to join me. I parted my legs obscenely, offering myself to him, ensuring that any onlooker would have no doubt that I was a more than willing participant in this adulterous affair. For I was sure that there would be an onlooker: in fact, I was banking on it. In the depths of the hallway, hidden in the dark beyond the erotic coruscation of the bedroom, I knew Mark would be standing - my loyal husband, my faithful cuckold, watching every excruciatingly wonderful moment of his wife's infidelity. Watching and enjoying.

"Fuck me, Dave," I yelled. Ordinarily, I am not an especially vociferous lover, preferring to let my body do the talking, but when I know I have an audience I can recite the dictionary of sexual terminology. "Let me feel your cock, lover boy; god, it's huge, mmm, so hot and hard, I want it in me." You know the sort of thing. You've heard it in the porn movies, emoted by blank-eyed wretches with all the sincerity of a check-out girl wishing you a nice day. I like to think my theatrical nature gives my renditions of those hackneyed phrases a bit of an edge.

"...Big boy..."

See what I mean?

His hands were all over me, as though he had misplaced something in the dark, and I felt like I was being buffed up prior to inspection. He'll be checking my chassis next, I thought, before considering that that might not be altogether unpleasant. He was a curiosity, Dave: his foreplay was appalling, but once he had found his target and his cock was satisfactorily embedded within me, he turned into a genuine and skilled lover. Consequently, for reasons of self preservation I grabbed at his dick and slid it into place, emitting a heavy sigh of delight as I felt it part my lips. He lay above me, his brawny arms stretched, hands on the bed holding his weight.

"Lover boy," I sighed. "Fuck me now, Dave, fuck me now."

Dave began to press against me, gentle at first, building a rhythm, and the sensation of his cock inside me started to send shivers through my body. He was big in every respect - thick and long and with a dominant presence - and his rocking movements, side to side and up and down, ensured that he filled me, his hot length pressing hard against my walls. He bent his back and lowered his head to my breast, taking my nipple between his teeth and biting. That changed the trajectory of his dick and he slid low and straight into me, incredibly deep, making me scream with pained delight. "Fuck, yes, yes," I yelled.

In the hallway, I thought I heard a rustle of activity. I looked at my strategically placed mirror and there, indeed, was the reflection of my husband, poor cuckolded Mark, standing - as he thought - hidden from view. He was naked and his cock was in his hand. My husband was wanking as he watched his wife being fucked by another man. A surge of excitement flooded through me as I considered what was going through his head: he loved me and would do anything for me, but I was constantly testing him, probing, wondering how deep his love was, how far I could humiliate him, how far I could go before he would rebel. To date, I hadn't found that point, and I suspected I never would.

The point is, dear Mark loved it too. How he loved being humiliated, being used, being forced to endure such indignity. He loved skulking in the darkened hallway, silently playing with himself as his wife enjoyed another man's cock. He loved being in the shadows, observing, always asked to perform offstage.

Which was why I thought it time to bring him into the limelight: another test for darling Mark.

"Oh christ, Dave, that's good, that's so good. Fuck me harder, yes like that, oh yes, slide it down, yes, yes." He had adjusted his angle again, and was now spearing almost vertically down, his cock sliding against my clitoris and sending flashing, crashing sensations through my body. I was almost reluctant to stop, but in the mirror I could see Mark's motions were speeding up and now seemed to be the time.

"Hold on," I said, gripping Dave's shoulders.

"What?" he panted, clearly annoyed.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Mark? Is that you?"

There was an awful silence. In the mirror I could see Mark, rigid with fear, a look of horror on his face. This wasn't meant to happen.

"Mark, get in here, this instant!" It was my best nanny voice, one which always caused him to scurry to my service. This time, however, the shock was so great he remained rooted to the spot. "NOW!" I yelled. He waddled out of the gloom into the light of the bedroom, his erect cock straining before him, his face red with shock and a rictus of terror fixed across his face.

Dave had slid out of me and I pressed my hand apologetically around his cock, sodden with my juices, and squeezed it. I began to gently stroke his length, my eyes all the time on the trembling Mark.

"Were you watching?" He nodded his head. "Were you playing with yourself?" Again, he nodded. Mind you, it would be hard to deny it, with his little cock still rigid in front of him. "Were you enjoying it?" Silence.

"Were you?"

"Yes," he whispered, his head down, eyes staring at the carpet.

"Look at me!" He looked up and saw my hand on Dave's prick, stroking it, squeezing it. Dave slid his hand between my arm and body and lowered it towards my slit, his fingers slithering across my damp and swollen lips and sliding into my pussy. Mark gulped. "Carry on then."

Again there was silence.

"Did you hear? Carry on, start wanking." Again, he made no move. "Do you need something to excite you?" I asked rhetorically, sliding down the bed. "Get on with it, little man!" Mechanically, Mark's hand moved towards his cock and he slid his fingers around it. I lowered my head to Dave's prick and licked my tongue along its length. All the while I watched Mark, watched him settle into a rhythm, watched him wank as his wife slid another man's cock into her mouth. I sucked on Dave's head, hard and hot, licking my tongue round and across, flicking it against his urethra, grazing my lips against his sensitive skin. I gripped the base of his shaft and started to wank it, sliding it deeper and deeper into my mouth until I had a good six inches inside me. Bobbing my head back and forward I began to wank him with my mouth, sucking and ensuring my cheeks rasped against him. Meanwhile, Mark was standing by the side of the bed, a man in sexual torment, his cock hard and glistening as he pulled at it frantically. I knew this would be killing him, being made to play with himself while he watched another man being serviced by his wife's expert mouth.

Dave's cock began to pulse, an early warning of impending explosion, and I stopped what I was doing: I didn't want him coming just yet. I settled myself on the pillow once more and draped Dave around me, his hand on my pussy and mine gently stroking his dick. We both looked up at Mark.

"Come," I said huskily. "I want to watch you come."

I knew this was even more humiliating for him. Not only was he being made to come in front of us, we had stopped what we were doing to allow us to observe it: before, he had been given some material to wank with, but now he was simply expected to bring himself off before our prurient gaze. He looked miserable as he continued to thrash his meat.

"Some time today would be quite nice." He blushed. "You wouldn't think something so small would take so long." Dave laughed and Mark winced. My barbed comments seemed to be the spur he needed and his body tensed, his knees locked, a fixed, pained expression on his face. He grunted as he came and a huge spurt of spunk flew from him and arced forcefully on to the bedroom carpet. He spasmed a few more times and another three or four spurts oozed out of his reddened cock. He slowed to a halt and stood shamefaced before us, hand still round his fast-shrinking prick.

"Oh well done," I said as patronisingly as I know how, and believe me I really know how. "Now, apologise to Dave for interrupting us and thank him for letting you come."

Mark was in the depths of humiliation by now. Nothing I could do could make things any worse for him. Or better, for that matter.

"Sorry Mark, for interrupting. And thank you for allowing me to come."

"No worries Mark. Just go and clean up that mess on the carpet now." I loved that. Even Dave was getting in on the act and instructing my poor cuckold like the servant he was.

"Yes, Dave, sorry." He turned to go.

"Hold on, before you go." Mark stopped. I settled back on the bed and pulled Dave towards me, parting my legs and positioning him between them. "Time to pick up where we left off."

Mark looked confused, not sure whether or not he was expected to stay and watch.

"Mark, come here," I cooed. "Put Dave back inside me." A huge rush of excitement swept through me as I uttered the words, as I explained to Mark what I wanted him to do. Appalled, he looked at me and I wondered for an instant if this might just prove to be the point when he said no. I could see the torment in his face as he weighed up the situation. Finally, I saw resignation in his eyes and knew that I had won. He stepped towards us and knelt by the edge of the bed. Gingerly, he took hold of Dave's cock and guided it towards my waiting pussy. I felt it nudge at my lips and watched in delight as Mark eased it between them and slid it inside me. I thought I was going to come on the spot at the thought of my poor cuckolded husband being forced to participate in the penetration of his wife by another man's dick. Dave started to hump against me and I could tell that he, too, was turned on and close to coming. I raked my fingers down his back, hard enough to raise the skin, and my hand fell away towards Mark. I took his hand in mind and he squeezed it, and as my climax approached I screamed and held it tightly.

"Mmm, thank you," I said, to either or both of them.