By

Donna M.

 

 

The Christmas party was at Carol and Lionel Wade’s house last year, and that’s when I first saw it.  My name is Paul and I’ve been married to Helena for ten years now.  My wife was a gymnast in high school and college, and with her baby face and four-foot-ten height people think she’s younger than she is.  She may be short, but ‘petite’ doesn’t fit her body.  In her thirties Helena is a curvy woman with D-cup breasts and muscular thighs and glutes left over from her gymnastics days.  She knows how to use that body too. I was accustomed to seeing younger men hit on my wife, not realizing her age and that she was married.  I didn’t get pissed off.  She’d gently let them down with the truth, and I felt lucky to be married to her.

One of her trademark signals is letting her hair down.  Helena has long, brunette hair and doesn’t like it down, usually wearing it in a pony tail or tied up in a bun.  She says she looks more professional that way.  However, when she wears it down she looks amazingly foxy, like a Rubenesque Lolita.  When she wears it down she’s telling me what she wants.  When she wears it down, those nights in bed are the best.

What I saw at the Wade’s party was our older host’s hand up my wife’s dress while they sat on a sofa, and her not appearing to mind.  Did I tell you her hair was down?  I could only guess what that hand was doing, though Helena’s mouth was open and some of her thick hair was stuck to her sweaty face.  How could everyone else not see what was going on?

Why I didn’t charge right over there and put a stop to the mischief surprised me.  Along with anger there was something else—curiosity, arousal?  I stood there with a drink in my hand and watched until Lionel saw me, and like the guilty party he was pulled his hand away quickly and tried to look nonchalant.  I saw his glistening wet fingers.  Now that Helena knew I’d seen them she worked at straightening out her dress as well as her mussed hair.  The only decision I had to make at that moment was whether to ignore them or confront them.  My reaction was a blend of both.  I went looking for Carol, Lionel’s wife.  As the party’s hostess, she was chatting with several neighborhood women as I approached.  Carol Wade was at least ten to fifteen years older than us and not very attractive as far as I was concerned.  In fact she was the direct opposite of my wife.  Where Helena was cute, petite and yet extremely curvy, Carol’s face was rather plain, with perhaps a too-prominent, square jaw for my taste, with words such as ‘butch’ and ‘big-boned’ easily coming to mind.  Maybe my perception was biased, transferring my sudden dislike for Lionel onto his wife.  I asked to speak with her and maneuvered her away from the group. 

 She said, “What’s wrong, Paul? You look flushed. Food and drinks okay?”

“Those are fine. It’s your husband who isn’t fine. I just saw him feeling up my wife in the other room and I don’t like it.”

“Did you tell either one of them you didn’t like it?”

“No. I didn’t want to make a scene.”

“Let me tell you something, Paul. It’s no secret to me that my husband has the sex drive of horny bull. He’ll chase any woman who gives a signal that she wishes to be chased. I think you should talk to Helena before doing or saying anything stupid.”

“You know he cheats and you let him?” I naively asked.

Carol laughed.  “I don’t ‘let’ him do anything. He’s a grown man who makes his own decisions. I make mine too. We both have our needs and we take care of them. Maybe you should pay more attention to your wife’s needs instead of my husband’s.”  As I walked away and went in search of Helena I thought about what Carol said.  I knew I was an old-fashioned kind of guy.  I didn’t think about my needs except within the boundaries of my marriage.  Loving Helena took care of them, but was I meeting my wife’s needs?  Then I began thinking about the unthinkable.  If Carol was so cavalier in condoning Lionel’s fooling around, maybe it was because I was the only one who didn’t know he was doing his fooling around with Helena.

She met me as I entered the Wade’s expansive living room.  Many of our friends were here, dressed elegantly for the holidays and conversing in small groups, yet all I saw was Helena.  Her cocktail dress was mostly white with some splashes of navy blue as contrast.  For the gazillionth time I pondered how amazing she looked.  The dress accentuated her breasts without exposing them; the high hemline accentuating her magnificently chiseled legs and the promise of what it was to lie between them.

Before I could say anything, she said “I’m sorry honey. I guess I’ve had a few too many drinks and lost my sense of decency there for a moment. Lionel was being nice and I didn’t realize what he was doing until he, you know, touched me…”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Like I said, maybe I’ve had too much to drink and lost my concentration of who was sitting next to me on the sofa, and it did feel good. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you tonight, okay?”

“Are you having an affair with him?” I blurted out.

I saw the hurt look in her eyes.  “You don’t believe me?”

“Seeing a man fingering my wife in public makes it difficult to know what to believe.”  I hadn’t realized my voice was raised until a few folks around us stopped and stared.  Helena took me by the arm and suggested we go home.  So much for Christmas spirit, I thought.  Neither one of us was in the mood so there wasn’t any making-it-up-to-me that night.

 

Into the new year our lovemaking returned to what I thought of as normal.  I still had difficulty feeling uplifted when Helena was extra aroused and had multiple orgasms.  Was she fantasizing about being with someone else, like Lionel?  What made things worse was that Helena was becoming Carol Wade’s best friend and spent a lot of time at her house.  I thought of their friendship as some sort of bad influence on Helena, and I couldn’t shake the vivid memory of Lionel Wade’s gleaming wet fingers coming out from under my wife’s dress at the Christmas party.

Helena was always home from work before me, so one day in late spring when I got home to find the house empty and she wouldn’t answer her phone I walked down the block to the Wade’s house to see if she were there.  Maybe I was hoping to ‘catch’ her with Lionel.  Lionel surprised me by answering the door wearing only a long-tailed dress shirt and nothing else.  His erection was hidden by the shirt but the tent it made was quite obvious, as was the round wet spot in the fabric where his cock-head was.

“You can see this isn’t a good time, Paul. What can I do for you?”

Before I could ask about Helena, fearing the worst, Bethany Moore, an eighteen-year-old daughter of a friend who lived near us came out of what I knew to be a sun room and said, “Yeah, it’s shitty timing, Mr. Evian. I was almost cumming.” The lithe blond was not concerned with being naked in front of me, nor embarrassed by getting caught having sex with an older married man.

“I’m looking for Helena,” a shocked me finally said.

“Her and Carol went somewhere. And no, I don’t know where though I obviously knew they’d be gone for a while.”  He looked at Bethany and grinned while his cock slipped out from behind his shirttails.  I saw how Bethany’s face changed when she looked at his semi-rigid manhood.

“Sorry for bothering you,” I said, “You can go back to doing what you were doing. I’ll let myself out.”

Bethany yelped “Goodie!” as she dragged Lionel back to the sunroom.

As I walked away from his door, I thought that at least it wasn’t my wife in there getting it on with Lionel.  Bethany wasn’t the brightest bulb around but I believed the eighteen-year-old could do a lot better than screw around with Lionel Wade.  Before I left the property, I heard Bethany cry out she was cumming, and turned around in time to see Lionel—easily enough from the driveway with the sunroom addition’s glass wall—arch his back and bellow.  I should’ve felt guilty for thinking Helena would be here and doing what Bethany was doing, but now that I’ve witnessed Lionel’s basest nature, actually fucking a teenager in his own house while his wife was out, my sense of worry that my wife was doing the same wouldn’t go away.

 

I knew something wasn’t quite right with our sex life but couldn’t pinpoint what it was, and often figured it was my overactive imagination with the Christmas party scene still indelibly etched in my mind.  When Helena came home from shopping with Carol one day and proudly showed me the bikini she’d bought, I was flabbergasted.

“Why?” I asked. “Your one-piece wasn’t sexy enough? We weren’t planning a beach vacation so where are you going to wear it?”

“Carol said you’d be like that,” she replied.

“Like what?”

“A prude.”

“I’m not a prude,” I protested.

“Then what is it? You say nice things about my body but do you mean it?”

“Of course I do, my love. You’re the sexiest woman alive.”

“Then why don’t you show it?” she said, and I was shocked.  She was only getting started, it seemed.  “I guess because we’re married you don’t have to, but I get passes every day by all kinds of men.  It makes a woman feel desirable to be looked at that way.  I love you, Paul, but I wish you still lusted for and pursued me like when we were single.”

“Is that what Lionel Wade was doing at the Christmas party?” I felt good saying it because I saw it hurt her, “Making you feel desirable since I don’t do it enough?  That’s Lionel, the virtuous man who fucks his teenage neighbor as soon as his wife is out of the house.”

“That’s what I mean, talking about what other men do and don’t do instead of being a man yourself. What happened at the Wade’s was an alcohol fueled mistake, but at least he tried, and don’t think that Carol doesn’t know about the Moore girl or any of the others.”

“There are others?” I blurted out.

Helena laughed.  “Of course there are. That man could probably fuck 24-7 if someone would let him.”

“Have you…let him?”

“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer, but I will make a comment of my own. Lionel asked me to model the bikini for him as soon as he knew I bought it. Why haven’t you asked me?”

“You’ve got it all figured out: I’m a prude, judgmental, lacking in sensuality, and can keep it in my pants. So, what do you suggest I do to change? Call Bethany Moore?”

“Forget it,” she said and walked to our bedroom in a huff, waving the bikini in the air like a battle flag, which perhaps it was.  “I’ll wear it in Carol Wade’s back yard, by the pool. I’m sure Lionel will appreciate it.”  She closed the door with an adequate slam.

Okay, so I screwed up badly.  I won’t apologize for the way I feel about Helena and the Wades.  Lionel’s fingering of my wife wasn’t an illusion.  Something definitely was going on and basically I didn’t know how to handle it.  I wasn’t about to surrender my wife but I didn’t have it in me to be a Neanderthal either and go punch his lights out.  One thing I could do—after all I’m very good with electronics—is set up a camera above the Wades’ pool fence as an ‘evidence’ gathering tool.  I have a couple of really good wireless cameras that I can activate remotely, and which can transmit the distance to my house.  One of them is weatherproof and has a great long-life battery.  It can be encrypted so no one else except a determined hacker could receive the signal.  What was fortuitous was that Brad Healy and his wife, who owned the property that abutted the Wades’ were gone for two weeks, giving me the opportunity to plant the camera in one of their trees overlooking the Wades’ pool.  Once I confirmed what was going on with Helena I could confront them all and put a stop to this baloney.

Carol called Helena on the next hot summer Saturday and invited her over.  Since the confrontation about the bikini, Helena and I had sex only once, and that was pretty perfunctory though her orgasm wasn’t faked, which actually made things worse for me because all I did was wonder who she was fantasizing being with.  At least today I got to see her in the new bikini before she left the house.

“I’m sorry for everything, and I wish I’d seen you in that when you bought it.  It’s…you’re gorgeous, darling.  Can I talk you into staying home, and maybe…?” I said.

I might have accepted any look she gave me except the one of pity I got.  “Carol’s waiting.  Maybe tonight?”  Her tone told me not to hold my breath.  I almost said “Is Lionel waiting too?” but thought better of it.  I was going to activate the camera and that would tell me everything.

 I opened my laptop, sent the signal to activate the cam, and sat back in anticipation. I knew it was a great cam but the picture quality was even better than I expected.  I patted myself on the back for its placement in the tree since I had a fantastic view of the pool and the lounge chairs surrounding it. Carol and my wife emerged from the house with tumblers in their hands.  Iced tea, or would they be drinking liquor so early, I mused?  Before they each settled into a lounge chair, I watched them kiss and didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly lascivious yet the kiss looked to be more than just a friendship buss.  The women talked but the audio wasn’t up to the quality of the video and I only picked up a word or two every so often.  I heard a few words to indicate they talked about me.  I heard the word jealous and what was either limp or wimp, neither option pleasing me.

I expected to see Lionel hanging around my wife like the proverbial fly on shit, but he didn’t make an appearance until about an hour later.  He joked with the women that nobody was around and that they should be at least topless (his voice carried better than theirs).  Carol looked at my wife, and Helena answered “Why not” and proceeded to remove her top.  Carol did the same, but it wasn’t bare tits that caught my eye.  Lionel dropped his shorts at the same time while making a comment about “sexy women.” Whether I wanted to or not I got my first clear look at his cock, and at least he wasn’t larger than me.  Adding envy to jealousy would’ve made things worse, I thought.  Carol made a joke about something and Lionel knelt between the lounge chairs, and thus between the women.  I saw everything.

He said, “Hot damn, Helena! You need to free those tits more often!” And that’s when he cupped one of them and squeezed.

With Lionel implying that he wasn’t accustomed to seeing my wife’s naked breasts I should have been relieved, and yet he brazenly grabbed one and she didn’t stop him.  Carol pulled him to her and they kissed.  Long and hard, to the point I knew there was a lot of tongue action going on.  Lionel’s hand though was still on my wife, roaming over her from breast to navel and back again.  The picture was sharp enough for me to see that Helena’s nipples were puckered and stiff and that she’d raised her hips from the lounger as if to meet an imaginary body.

I focused on my wife and her body language.  I rarely saw her this aroused, and it hurt.  Lionel separated from his wife’s lips, arose and let out a “Whew!” sound.  He was very erect.  And admittedly I was too.

Was this where Lionel would fuck my wife, or would they be more circumspect and go into the house to do it?  Frankly I wasn’t sure which one would bother me the most; seeing them fuck or having my imagination fill in the blanks just as I have been doing since the Christmas party.

During these troubling ruminations Lionel suddenly asked his wife if he could call “Maria.”  The only Maria I knew was Bethany Moore’s best friend Maria Mendoza.  As Lionel went into the house to ostensibly make the call my puzzled brain tried to figure out what was going on.  I sat there in front of my laptop and watched the two women gazing at each other strangely, wondering what kind of silent communication was going on between them.  My cock wilted but not before wetting my briefs with what felt like a lot of pre-cum.

After a minute or two of silence, Helena sat up on the edge of her lounge chair and commented to Carol how lucky she was to have such a unique marriage of “love and trust.”  Love and trust?  Lucky?  The guy openly touched other men’s wives (in the least he touched mine) and screwed a teenage girl when his wife was away, and Helena thought their marriage was built on love and trust?  She had to be joking.

Carol sat up too and said, “I am lucky,” emphasizing the word am, as she reached out to take Helena’s hand in hers.  That’s when they leaned toward each other and kissed, no less passionately than the preceding kiss between husband and wife.  When their lips parted, one of them whispered something and they stood and walked toward the pool.  Seeing the two topless women holding hands and so close together really accentuated their physical differences.  Carol was at least a foot taller than Helena and with her A-cup breasts and non-existent hips, not nearly as sensually appealing, at least to me.

Together they jumped into the pool and then came together for another long kiss.  Some below the waterline fumbling went on and I knew their bikini bottoms were coming off long before they threw them toward the lounge chairs they just vacated.

I thought I was prepared to witness everything but I hadn’t expected this.  Now I understood the previous scene with Lionel; it wasn’t him I’d lost my wife to after all.  Some serious fondling went on for a while until Carol pulled Helena toward the pool’s ladder.  She urged my wife up the ladder until she sat her down on the top step, spread her legs and went down on her.  Helena’s head was back, her eyes closed and her mouth open.  It didn’t take long for my wife to be climaxing loudly.

Carol was still licking and Helena was still cumming when a cheer arose from the patio door.  The aforementioned Maria was indeed Maria Mendoza, as she, Lionel and Bethany Moore came outside to the pool, each without a stitch on.  In that instance all the rest of my suppositions were proved wrong.  Bethany called out, “I want an orgasm like that! Attagirl, Helena! Carol, you rock!”

Lionel said, “Don’t worry girl. I’ll take care of your orgasmic needs.”

“Mine too?” Maria said with a laugh.

I was shocked again when Helena hollered, “Not if I get you first!”

“Ooooo, sounds good to me!” Maria said as she touched herself.  “God, I’m wet already!”

Lionel was rock hard as he fell into one of the lounge chairs and rolled on a condom.  Bethany let out a ‘whoop” as she straddled Lionel and immediately took all of him deep.  Carol could care less her husband was being fucked by a girl half his age.  Still wet from the pool, she was now lying on a large mattress-like pad at the far corner of the patio and being devoured by Maria and my wife.  My gaze alternated between the two arenas.  While watching Bethany’s sinuous, serpentine up-and-down motion, I kicked my shorts off and absently stroked my stiff cock. I then looked at the three ladies in time to see and hear Carol cum.  But the focus was still Helena. I doubt she ever looked more beautiful, more sensual than she did then as she grinned and shifted into position between Maria’s youthful legs.  I found myself stroking faster.

Dark Maria surprisingly (at least to me) had a full bush, which was a big turn on for me.  Even though Helena shaved like all women nowadays I guessed, I was old-fashioned in that regard and preferred pubic hair to the little-girl bald look.  It just seemed more natural. The camera angle was perfect as I had a great view of Helena’s magnificent ass, and beyond that the wonderful view of Maria’s pussy, her dark hair glistening in the sun from all her juices mixed with saliva. Carol lay beside them and fingered herself furiously.

Bethany’s high-pitched sounds drew my eyes back to her and Lionel.  Her slow undulations were over with.  She was bouncing up and down like an automobile piston at high RPMs, and Lionel was yelling that he was cumming.  All the noise around that pool had me wondering about neighbors; the Healys weren’t home but what about the others?  If my camera’s microphone were picking up all the sex sounds then someone in the neighborhood was hearing it all too, I surmised.  My attention back to the female trio, and my hand busily stroking, I saw Carol and Maria go to work on my wife, and in short order they had her cumming like I’d never seen her cum with me.  I ejaculated so forcefully I ended up spraying some on my laptop.  It was a hell of a job to clean up, but not anywhere near the mess I’d made of my marriage.

I watched a while longer although the action was mostly over.  The female participants lounged together with some light touching still going on, while Lionel watched them and stroked himself.  The stroking was to no avail, as he apparently didn’t have another erection in him even though Maria teased him about her being next.  Bethany was definitely bisexual as she began making love to my wife so soon after getting fucked by Lionel.  Carol looked much more jealous of Bethany now than before, so the “friendship” between Helena and Carol Wade came into sharper focus.

My opinion of Lionel grudgingly softened like his cock had.  He had a harem that was more interested in sex with each other than with him.  His wife was in love with another woman, and his consolation it seemed was occasional impersonal sex with a young woman, albeit a slim eighteen year old.

So, I played the cuckold and now the masturbating voyeur, and I wasn’t very proud of myself.  What would I have said if Helena told me it was Carol instead of Lionel she was fooling around with?  Would that have altered the level of my jealousy? When the ‘party’ broke up, I remotely shut down the camera, stowed the laptop and got dressed.  Helena was very chipper when she got home, and who could blame her?  I tried to be as casual as I might have been if I hadn’t seen everything.  That’s when I realized it would have been a mistake, since my suspicions had been around Lionel and the jealousy would still remain.  I gave my wife a cold shoulder and left her to wonder what I was thinking.

In the intervening week, I snuck over and got the camera to recharge its battery. I wanted it to be ready for the following weekend, and my wife’s next pool adventure.  During the week we didn’t have sex; she claimed she was too tired and I didn’t push it.  Carol Wade stopped over one evening to speak with Helena, basically ignoring me the whole time, a poorly concealed smirk of contempt on her face.  And maybe it was a sneer of victory.  She’d stolen my sexy, gorgeous wife, after all.

The pool get-together was scheduled for Saturday afternoon.  Saturday morning I ran into Lionel Wade at our local Home Depot.  With an unctuous smile, he said “How are things with you and that hot wife of yours?  Those legs and that ass of hers…man!”

“Keep it in your pants, Lionel,” I answered. “She knows how to handle that ass…and who gets to handle it.”  I wanted him to brag, to confess to something, anything that could be contradicted by what I saw and what I might see that afternoon.

“That she does, my friend.  That she does.”

Your wife, not you , I thought, trying not to contemptuously sneer back at him.

The afternoon performance at the Wade’s pool was all the Carol and Helena show.  “Christ I’m so horny!” my wife declared as Carol pulled her bikini bottoms off and went down on her.  Helena massaged her own bare, heaving breasts as Carol attacked her clit with her tongue and lips.  Helena’s moans became steadily more strident until she whimpered, “I’mmmmmm cummminggggggg” loud enough for the camera’s mike to pick up.  I watched her quake from what must have been an incredible orgasm, and instantly grew hard.

Naked Lionel exited the house as Helena began servicing his wife.  Nestled between Carol’s spread legs and with her glorious ass on display like the fine art it was, she was the magnet drawing Lionel’s immediate ‘iron.’  He muttered “Oh God” and nearly ran up behind Helena, his erection like a jousting knight’s lance.  When he placed the head of his cock at her obviously wet labia, she hollered “No!” and then said what sounded like “Not now.”  Saying no is not the same as saying not now.  Did that mean she would fuck him later?

Lionel stood behind Helena and jerked off while staring at the place he wished he could go.  Carol writhed as she approached orgasm, and Helena waggled along with her, obviously as excited about giving her lover an orgasm as in receiving one.  Lionel stroked energetically with one hand as the other snaked its way to my wife’s exposed pussy.  Unlike with his cock, she didn’t stop his fingertips. He moaned so loudly I heard it.  He said something, but “wet” was the only word I heard clearly.  Carol’s noisy orgasm pushed her husband over the edge, as he ejaculated in four long arcs all over Helena’s writhing butt and back.

With one hand reaching behind her to play with Lionel’s spunk trail, my wife said as she stood upright, “I’m flattered you came so much just for me…and so hot too!  Too bad Paul couldn’t see it.  I like it when he’s jealous.”

Carol snorted, “He’s a prude.  I bet if he was here and saw us getting it on he wouldn’t even get a hard-on.”

“Don’t be so sure,” I whispered to myself, holding my still-hard cock that had spewed about the same time Lionel had.

After that they had to cool off, so into the pool the three of them went.  Lionel was still in a groping mood and Helena seemed to tolerate it although her attention was on Carol.  Lionel’s resignation was plain to see in his demeanor.  He would always be the odd player in this tableau, and I supposed I would be left out too from now on.

After they exited the pool and dried off, Carol asked Helena when she was going to tell me.  “I do love him, you know, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him,” Helena said after a sigh.  Whether the sigh was in response to her concern for me or from Carol fondling a breast was left to my interpretation.

Lionel suddenly laughed and said, “Why don’t you invite Paul over next weekend? Let him see what’s going on instead of having his jealous imagination run wild.  That’s if he HAS an imagination.”  Lionel laughed again and said something about inviting others.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…yet,” Helena feebly said.

Oh, but I did, especially if ‘others’ meant Bethany and Maria!

When Helena got home I asked her if she had fun.  She replied yes, she had fun but said no more.  I pried. “Was Lionel there?” She again said yes but nothing else, so I pried some more.  “Do you guys get naked and fool around?”

“Do you know how childish that sounds—fooling around—?”

“I disagree, since finger-fucking and cock-sucking are much more vulgar terms and I wouldn’t use them.  However, I hope you realize that I’m teasing you.  I’m sure everything happening at the Wades’ place is rated-PG and quite tame.  I’d actually like to go next time.  Bury the hatchet, so to speak.  I shouldn’t be holding onto my animosity of the Wades from the party.  I’m sure there’s no reason for me to be jealous.”

Helena had this pained expression that stayed with her for hours.  She didn’t say anything about the next pool get-together, though I knew she was agonizing over it.  After all, an invitation would be her coming-out party. 

I surmised that during the week Carol (and maybe Lionel too) must have pressured her for a commitment, for wasn’t that what her decision really was?  By midweek I was invited, and only then did I remove the camera from the tree.

When Saturday unfolded bright and sunny, the pool party was on.  I’d picked up two expensive bottles of wine as peace offerings.  I was determined to be ‘anti-prude’ since I now knew what to expect.  Helena was nervous on the way over since she had no idea that by the end of the day I expected to give her my blessing to pursue any bisexual desires, Carol Wade or otherwise, as long as I was her number one man.  I loved my wife and I didn’t want to lose her.  If that made me a cuckold, then so be it.

Lionel and Carol both greeted us, wearing bathing suits of course, and then I had the biggest surprise.  Bethany and Maria were already in the pool, fooling around with a young man who looked to be a couple of years older than the girls.  Lionel offered to open one of the wine bottles we brought, and Carol suggested alternatives if we wanted them.  Helena and I both opted for the wine.  I dutifully checked out the two girls, who were by now topless, waved to them, and turned to Helena to ask if she’d be taking hers off.

“You don’t mind?” she said, “I mean, you must know by now that we usually do.”

I cupped one of her breasts and winking, said “Your tan sort of gave you away.”  She blushed, which I thought was sweet.  I asked, “Can I also assume that the young guests”—I motioning toward the pool—“are often here too?”

“You know who they are, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah, Bethany Moore and Maria Mendoza, but I don’t know the guy.”

Carol heard me and said, “That’s Brad Abel.  His parents live down the street.  He’s back from college and used to date Bethany when she was younger.”

“How much younger?” I said but immediately smiled and added, “No prude here. She’s a doll and all the power to the dude for having a piece of that whenever he could.”  I wasn’t being disingenuous.  Considering I classified both girls as nymphomaniacs, thinking of them having sex as early teens didn’t seem much like pedophilia to me.

Lionel didn’t either.  He joined us and said, “I bet you wouldn’t mind a go at either one of those babes.”

I put my arm around Helena and pulled her closer.  “Not really. I happen to think I’m married to the sexiest babe around.  Don’t you agree?” Helena seemed uncomfortable with the turn of the conversation.

Lionel hesitated for a second, unsure if I was setting a trap.  I was sure he remembered me seeing him fingering Helena at their Christmas party.  Finally he said, “Yes, I agree.  In fact, we’re both lucky men.”

Maybe that was a trap for me.  Carol certainly wasn’t my type but perhaps Lionel was being sincere and meaning that he was lucky in the sense of their open marriage, of sorts, allowing Carol to play with other women while he played guilt-free too.  “Lionel,” I said, “when any man has a good woman to share his bed, he’s lucky.”

Helena and Carol shared a look.  Some signal must have been transmitted for that’s when both women removed their tops.  I enjoyed one more moment in my life admiring my wife’s breasts.  Lionel was looking too; he wasn’t looking at his wife’s though.  The pool trio climbed out one by one.  No one commented that all three were naked and that Brad was semi-erect. He had youth going for him but not much of a cock.

More wine was poured as we lounged around the pool talking about nothing much.  Brad appeared a little embarrassed about being naked in front of us and the girls didn’t care.  In fact, they were purposely flaunting themselves to Lionel and me.  Especially me.  I’d seen them naked before although they didn’t know it.  I knew that as long as I didn’t focus on Maria’s lush bush I wouldn’t have an erection.  My wife had the best tits by far and they all knew it, so the girls’ flaunting fizzled out quickly.  I sipped my wine and wondered how things would progress now that I was here.

Carol invited Helena to swim with her.  As they walked to the pool’s edge, Carol slid her bottoms down and off, and while looking directly at me, said “You guys can do like Brad here and lose the swim suits.”  They dove in, so Carol didn’t see Lionel look at me as if to gauge my reaction before pulling his swim shorts off.  I grinned, shrugged and took mine off too.  I was sure the women wanted to be alone so they could figure out how to break the news to me.  They needn’t worry.

I heard whispers from the girls and glanced over at them to find Maria staring at my newly uncovered manhood and nudging Bethany.  “Look at him, he’s hung!” Maria muttered.

Well, I wasn’t hung.  I knew I was above average in size and girth but never thought I was in the realm of porn stars.  Their attention began to work, though.  My cock twitched and began to stiffen.  They noticed.  Being the biggest of the three males present I guessed was good enough for nymphomaniacs.

When I glanced toward the pool, I caught Helena and Carol kissing.  I left the others and dove in to the cool water.  I swam to them and before they could react, I said “Yes, I’m jealous, but I’m also practical.  Seeing that you two have something going I won’t make a scene.” I turned to Helena and embraced her, pulling her away from Carol momentarily. “Always remember that I love you body and soul, and always will.”

“Why haven’t you ever said it like that before?” Helena said sweetly, with no hint of recrimination to match the words.

“Words can be cheap.  Remember the old Extreme song we both loved—“More Than Words”?  If I failed to show you how much I love you with more than words, then I apologize.”  I turned back to Carol and said, “Love her well, she deserves it.”

Helena kissed me on the cheek and said, “You can, you know, play with the girls.  It’s only fair.”

It was my turn to kiss her on the cheek.  I then whispered in her ear, “Whatever I do, realize that they’re nothing compared to making love to you.”  Without another word I swam away from them and climbed out of the pool.  Maria was waiting for me by the ladder with a towel and a smile.

“If she doesn’t want you,” she said, “then I’ll be glad to have you.”

Her dark skin and even darker pubic bush were things to behold, and behold her I did.  Ignoring the towel and my being wet from the pool, Maria wrapped her arms around my neck and slipped her tongue between my parted lips.  She may not be the prettiest, but her sexual heat could draw any man or boy.  When our lips parted I said, “It’s not that she doesn’t want me, she’s just loaning me for a while.”  Maria was perplexed by my reply, but she regrouped quickly and pulled me toward one of the vacant lounge chairs.

I chuckled when I saw Brad fucking Bethany doggie style while Lionel looked on in melancholy gloominess.  He was the odd man out this time.

Maria gave me a big grin as she said, “You’re nice and big, but not too big to suck.  I like big.”  And suck was what she did.  She didn’t suck at it either, giving me some fantastic, wet throat. 

My wife was now sitting on the berm of the pool with her legs viselike around Carol’s head.  Helena’s vocalizations told me exactly what Carol was doing to her.  Before they rolled back into her head, Helena’s eyes met mine.  She blew me a kiss before her orgasm struck.

Maria commented on how she liked how hard I got and couldn’t wait to get me inside her.  I chuckled and said “Why wait?”   She immediately straddled me and lowered herself onto my rigid cock.  She was extremely wet and had no second thoughts about taking my full length into her in one motion.  Somehow I figured these girls were always wet.  Her mouth silently formed an ‘O’ on her second descent as I felt it too.  Did my cockhead really hit her cervix?  I thought that was impossible but what did I know about female anatomy anyway?  With a little more control she nonetheless rode me hard and I loved watching her bounce as much as I enjoyed her tight vagina.

Groans and moans echoed around the high patio walls; first Helena, then Bethany and Brad climaxed.  Maria let the whole neighborhood know that she was cumming and that it was her “BEST EVER!”

Maria eventually climbed off and looked at my still-hard cock, confused. “You didn’t cum?” she asked.

“It’s not you, Maria.  You’re a hot young lady but I guess my cock still favors my wife over there.  I bet that sounds corny.”

“I, like, think it’s sweet,” she declared just as she was looking around for Lionel or Brad to finish the job.  I shook my head and thought that she was much too shallow to understand what “sweet” truly was.

As Maria walked away from me, Carol and Helena approached.  Helena looked at my still-rigid cock and asked the same question that Maria did.  I said, “Like I told her, she isn’t the same as you,” while shrugging my shoulders in a who-really-knows gesture.  Carol patted my wife on her lovely ass and said, “I take back everything I ever said,” before bending down to me and giving me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

I only guessed at what she thanked me for, and assumed it was for the ‘loan’ of my wife to her.  Honestly until this very moment I worried it was more than a loan.  Helena straddled me in the lounger and said, “I owe it to you, my love, to take care of that,” palming my erection (how could it have gone limp looking at the babe in front of me that I will be forever grateful chose me as a husband?)  I think I worried for nothing.

Helena slid over my cock like Maria had though more sensually and with better eye contact.  I knew I was in for a good fucking.  I heard Bethany make a comment about wanting my “big cock,” and as she said it Helena slowly shook her head.  I heard Maria climax and wondered who brought her there, for some reason secretly hoping it was Carol instead of one of the men.  Helena muttered “I want to be taken hard,” so I obliged my wife by shifting her onto her back and mounting her missionary.  I held nothing back as I did her fast and furious, all while she clamped her strong legs around me and spurred me on.

“Yes…yes…yes…YES…!” she cried until she convulsed so violently the lounge chair collapsed under us.

As the others rushed over to see if we were okay, Helena asked “Did you cum?”

I answered, “This time I did,” as rivulets of semen dribbled from her in confirmation after I pulled out.

Helena and I turned out to be the main event, since that was the end of sexual play for the day.  While the last drinks were consumed, Carol and Helena went to one corner of the pool and talked while Lionel corralled me at another corner.  “Man, you’re one lucky dick, I’ll tell you,” Lionel said, unable to keep what sounded like awe from his voice.  “I think you know I’d give anything to fuck your wife.”

I took no offense.  “A lot of men think like you do,” I told him.  “Besides me, I think Carol’s the lucky one too.”  I turned slightly to face Lionel head on.  “Like at your Christmas party, don’t push it, okay?  You can’t have her so have fun any way you can,” I said, gesturing toward Bethany, Maria and Brad as they dressed to leave.

He raised his hands in a conciliatory motion, saying “I read you, buddy. I figured you both for pushovers, and boy was I wrong.”  We actually shook hands on it.

As Helena and I walked home, she told me how happy she was that I saw how things were and understood it all.  I wasn’t about to tell her of my jealous voyeurism that allowed me to understand, and be as nonchalant as I was entering today’s get-together. I asked her if she loved Carol and she replied that she wasn’t sure.  “There is something there between us, and I can’t ignore how much she arouses me, but I don’t want to hurt you because I love you.”  Her hand reached out and took mine while we walked.  I told her that I loved her too and that no matter what happened she should follow her heart, and that if she loved Carol I would understand and not get in their way as long as there was room for me in her heart.  “There always will be, sweetheart,” she said, “and room in my bed too.”

When we got home we showered and then got onto said bed.  Unlike the frantic sex by the Wades’ pool, our lovemaking was slow and unselfish.  I wasn’t sure how we got into the pretzel-like tangle we were in when we both orgasmed.  When we finally untangled Helena was aglow, and that’s when I knew in my heart that no matter the extent of her attraction to Carol Wade or any other woman, I was her man ’til death do us part.

 

This story has been in limbo for a long time.  In the meantime I wrote “The Party” with a similar theme and left this one to stagnate on my hard drive.  In that story, the main male character wasn’t a nice guy, and frankly nobody else was either.  I forgot about “Deception” and the Wades but on a whim I pulled it out of electronic mothballs and set about finishing the story, making the main character a more sympathetic man.  Personally I don’t care much for the typical cuckold husband story.  To me they just paint the man as weak, too weak for my taste.  As faithful readers know, I’d much rather tell a swinger story where spouses and significant others go into it on equal footing, at least to start with, though they don’t often end that way...

 

I hope you enjoyed this one.

 

Donna M.

 

© 2013

 

You can e-mail me at boredbutstillhot@yahoo.com

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