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From: Richard Short <shattims@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} This Can't be Happening {SHATTIMS} (MF cuck?)
Lines: 207
Date: Sun, 16 Jan 2005 14:10:04 -0500
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This story is completely fictional.

Thank God I've never had anything like this happen to
me.

SHATTIMS


		
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<1st attachment, "CantHappen.txt" begin>

This Can't be Happening
shattims@yahoo.com

'The one absolutely surefire way,' I think, 'to drive my wife into a
sexual frenzy would be to: a) take her out in a boat at night; b) start
exploring her body and kissing her; c) suck her tits and play with her
pussy; d) fuck like crazy.'

This keeps going through my head as I stand on the shore watching my
boss push away from the dock and start rowing. His nearly naked body
moves smoothly back and forth as he pulls on the oars. His legs are
spread wide, and yes, there is my wife between his legs, sitting so
close her ass must be touching his crotch. As the boat pulls out of the
pool of light cast by the single bulb on the dock I can see her hands
gliding up and down his bare thighs.

Now I can just make out the outline of the boat. And now it has been
completely swallowed up by the night. All that is left is the splash of
the oars entering the water and the squeak of wood on metal as he
continues rowing. It's amazing how the sound carries across the water
through the night. As the boat moves farther out into the lake the
sound almost makes it seem that they are still right there, just
outside the circle of light cast from the dock.

'How can this be happening to me?' I anguish. Only this morning I loved
my wife and she loved me. Now she has gone with him, and I don't know
if I'll ever get her back. The knot in the pit of my stomach swells up
my throat, and I am aching with the need to cry.

I listen once again for the sound of the oars. So long as he is rowing
he can't be touching her, and they won't be kissing. Yes, the sound is
still there, but I know with a sense of dread that it will surely stop.

There ... it stops quite suddenly. Not as if they were too far away to
be heard, but as if, and only as if, he had stopped rowing. I know
without a doubt what that means. He is running his hands up and down my
love's back and sides, echoing the way she has been rubbing her hands
on his thighs. Why had she been taunting him so? She must have known it
would drive him insane.

How could I have let this happen? Indeed how could I have been so
stupid as to have triggered it myself? My first mistake was in even
accepting his invitation to come up here to his cabin for the weekend.
And then, tonight; it seemed so innocent at the time. We were playing
Hearts, the three of us, and I won. The house rules for the evening
were that the winner of one game picked the next one. I was having
trouble coming up with anything, and finally just blurted out 'poker.'

But back to the boat. Still no sound from out there in the water. By
now he must be kissing the back of her neck, and rubbing his hands over
her belly. Feelings of desire must already be flooding through her, and
I imagine her clutching his thighs convulsively while pressing her back
against his chest. She has no objection as he moves his hands up to
explore the front of her tube top. She might even be whispering 'Yes
George, yes.'

George had found a box of poker chips, and we had agreed we would start
with 50 points each and play until someone ran out. Nothing seemed out
of the ordinary. No one breathed a word about strip poker, though
looking back I'll bet George was thinking about it. I know it crossed
my mind briefly. I wonder, could the thought also have come into my
wife's mind? Yet there was no sign of danger, none at all until that
last hand.

Oh, how I wish I could hear something out there! What are they doing?
No, I don't need to ask that, I know what they are doing. My honey's
head has started swiveling back and forth with the intensity of her
feelings. Now she has turned it to the side and is rubbing her cheek
against his lips. A low breathy moan escapes her lips as he slides his
hands inside her tube top. She twists sideways in the boat so she can
kiss him full on the mouth. Soon their tongues are making love,
stroking each other and pumping into each other's mouths. His hands are
driving her wild as he plays with her nipples. She yanks her tube top
up under her armpits, exposing her breasts to him.

She was almost out of chips, but she started bidding wildly. I dropped
out, but George kept raising. Finally he topped the last three red
chips she had in front of her, and she wailed 'NO! You can't do this to
me. This is the best hand I have ever had! Take back one of your chips
so I can match you, PLEASE!' But he shook his head.

Speaking of head, you don't suppose? No, they wouldn't have gotten that
far yet. But I'm sure he is sucking the tits she exposed to him, just
as I am sure she wanted him to. And he has snaked his hand down over
her belly and onto her shorts. He's probably rubbing her sopping wet
pussy through her shorts. And if so, she's undoubtedly matching his
actions with her hand on his trunks. Just feeling his throbbing cock
through his swim suit has her shivering and feeling little jolts of
electricity radiating from her pussy, not to mention what his hand is
doing as it presses her hottest of all hot spots. That obviously isn't
enough for either of them, and when he slides his fingers inside her
clothes her pelvis starts jerking back and forth and her breath is
coming in snorts.

He probably had the whole thing planned from the beginning. In fact, he
was the one who dealt that hand -- he had to have cheated. After he
shook his head no to her plea he let her stew for a while, but finally
smiled and said 'OK, I'll do it on one condition. But first, tell me,
you do really believe you have a better hand than I do, don't you?'

She had nodded and said, 'I know I do.'

'All right, then, here's the deal. If your hand beats mine I'll give
you all my chips and we'll declare you the poker winner for the night.
But if I have the better hand I get to take you out in the boat, just
the two of us.'

My heart had sunk. 'No, honey, don't do it!'

But she just smiled, 'Don't worry, I can't lose.'

And it sure looked that way when she put down her hand -- a queen-high
flush in hearts. But then he put down his five cards, all spades, and
the top one the ace.

So has he 'aced' her out there yet? I don't think so, not quite yet.
But I'll bet he has slipped her shorts and panties off her butt. I can
just see her wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling herself up
to make it easier for him to do that while she crams his face against
her hot tits. I know all too well how hot she gets when I suck her
tits.

With her clothes out of the way he now can get two fingers up her
steamy hole while he rubs her clit with his thumb. She's already
coming, clawing at his back. Now he yanks her clothes down past one
knee, and she pulls her leg out then swings around and straddles him.
She's rubbing her slimy cunt up and down the bulge in his trunks,
leaving a wet glistening trail an inch wide and six inches long.
They're both dying to do it now, and he yanks his suit down exposing
his huge jerking shaft. She grabs it, positions the head, and sinks
down ...

What was that? I heard a yelp! It was her voice, I'm sure if it. Oh, my
god, they really are doing it. He must be balls deep inside her. Now
they're pounding against each other, and ... oh, no! I can hear her, I
really can. She's wailing, that's what it is. It's all over; I've lost
her, probably forever.

I know George's cock is bigger than mine. I've seen it, and I know how
it must be thrilling her at this moment. I know how forceful he can be
and how much his lovers have adored him. I know he can buy her the
things she loves and I can't afford. I know she'll never want to come
back to me after this.

The wailing rises to a scream, and then silence. I'm totally stunned,
unable to move.

"Why are you just standing there?" the voice behind me says.

No, it can't be! It's her voice, but she's out there with George,
sharing a blissful post-coital kiss.

"Aren't you even going to turn around?"

I turn, and there she is, properly attired and grinning at me. Two
paces behind her I see George, head thrown back in a silent laugh.

"I do believe we really did it!" he guffaws. "Tell us the truth, what
did you think was going on out there in the water?"

"I don't ... but you ... just now ... but I heard you!" I am stumbling
all over my words.

"Heard us what?" my wife asks sweetly.

I turn to her, "You were wailing, I heard you scream, I was sure you
had to be ..."

"No, darling," she reassures me, "George just rowed up along the shore
a ways and then pulled in, and we snuck back over here. He thought it
would be fun to play a trick on you, and to tell the truth, I was kind
of worried about going out there with him, so when he told me what he
wanted to do I was so relieved, and I went along with it, and even
tried to make you jealous as we left, and I hope you aren't too angry
with me, darling."

I shake my head, but somehow I can't smile yet. Wait -- there's that
sound again. Startled I look up, "What's that?"

"Oh, just a loon," George laughs.

It's amazing what an overactive imagination can do.
<1st attachment end>


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