Take your medicine, Honey! By Micky_D

Ignore this posting... this thread was meant only to hold the story by Micky_D (which is below). If you want to see my new (non-hosed) "Best TRUE / REAL stories - thread to share them" posting, go here:

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/2_66318_0.html

Starting here is my original posting, but again, it's old. See the new thread above for the most recent links to real stories.

I happen to LOVE the REAL stories people post here, especially ones that are "just on the brink" of starting the process and you're not really sure whether it's going to happen, but it DOES. Mmmm. Hope for us wannabe cucks.

Anyway, I've found it hard to filter through the "fluff" even on the "Best Topics" link because there's (understandably) so many picture threads. But what really gets me off are the REAL stories. Some stories you can tell are just made up and that's not nearly as thrilling for me (and I suspect others as well).

So, with that said, I'm wondering if other members who share this interest, wouldn't mind helping me create a "Best REAL stories" thread where we post links to some of the best real stories we've found here at CuckoldPlace. Now, I'm sure some writers are good enough to pull of making something look real when it's not, but that's okay by me! Just like when my wife (very realistically) fakes her moans and growns... gets me off every time as I imagine her with a girthy bull!

So here's the few that I've found so far, and I'm hoping others have some great REAL (or seemingly real) stories to share:

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/2_60702_0.html

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/1_23005_0.html

And probably my favorite as it's a woman's story, and a very intelligent woman at that:
http://www.cuckoldplace.com/9_45405_0.html

And another good (still short) one from both perspectives:
http://www.cuckoldplace.com/2_63646_0.html

As you can see, I've just started to scratch the surface... I know there's got to be a treasure trove of good true / real stories out there. (even if on other sites)

Some rules I'd like to see followed for this thread:

1. This thread is ONLY for links to other longer stories. It is not meant for new stories themselves, or reposting stories to it.

2. Please only send links for stories that ARE or SEEM to be very real experiences (things that actually HAPPENED to them, rather than things they've made up) for the author/s.

Thanks for sharing!

Cuckalicious
Wannabe - see my captions at http://www.cuckoldplace.com/27_74912_1.html

Great idea. This site has so many real stories but so hard to find without weeding thru all the other postings here.
This is the 100% true story of the erotic events that took place when introducing my wife to fuck another man.

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/8_46523_0.html

The link below is to our own story, or at least the start of it, posted under submissive wives rather than cuckold stories because of the way things turned out. Because it's in a different area of the site, you may have missed it. Or maybe it is too long and detailed for your taste. However, it is true, or mostly so (I have condensed some parts and some adventures into one for the sake of readability, but everything in the story actually happened).

I am working on the next part and will be publishing more when I have time to do so, and as long as people are interested in reading it. I hope that you enjoy, and I always enjoy reading comments both good and bad.

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/29_64216_0.html

Rotter
Utter_Rotter
Writer and decadent

Awesome! Thank you for sharing!
Wannabe - see my captions at http://www.cuckoldplace.com/27_74912_1.html

Our story/posts seem to be well recieved.

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/10_62918_0.html

lips6698 - wow, nice! The vids are incredible!

Have you considered telling "The Beginning" of your story? Everything that lead up to the "WE DID IT!!!"? Once you get to that point, you could link to your current thread.

Anyway, food for thought... I know many people love to hear the teeter/totter of emotions of "will it happen? Or won't it?" I personally would love to hear both points of view of yours and hers.
Wannabe - see my captions at http://www.cuckoldplace.com/27_74912_1.html

Wonderful idea - I like real stuff, rather than fantasy (Worse still is people pretending its real). I have only read Lips6698's thread so far, but wow is that amazing!!!
***Please support my amateur thread by saying thanks & keep it great!***

http://hotfile.com/register.html?reff=1862981

Looks like that story is gone:

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/2_35574_0.html

couldn't find ANY posts by Micky_D using search and only found the thread above talking about his "excellent" story.

Bummer! (No one happens to have copied it locally for themselves have they??)

HammerHeart - I'm not sure exactly what you meant by "no Dialog between the wife and cuck". In the stories I posted, particularly in ValGal's, there's quite a bit. Maybe you're looking for different levels? Unfortunately, it doesn't look like we can compare any to Micky_D's to see exactly what you're talking about.

But thanks for sharing anyway... always looking for good leads.

If you know of (or find) others, please let us know.
Wannabe - see my captions at http://www.cuckoldplace.com/27_74912_1.html

Just for Hammer's fans. Medicine is on :
The hyperlink is visible to registered members only!

You may have to register to get there but its free and bug free too. Lots of other great stories too if you search enough.

tommichigan shared two great stories
Cucked in parking lot and
True: cucked for a second time

(and he has promised a third we've yet to hear -- encourage him to share!)

And from the other side of the aisle, Jennifer Allen's
How I got started

Also, slippy02 has been working on his story. First at
Anyone have similar beginnigs, how did it turn out/continue? and retold as
Beginnings and developments

Encouraging slippy02 can only help!

I have it and can upload it if that is ok with Mr. Big

Oh and cuckaliciousr, I scanned the stories - that was enough to tell me there wasn't sufficient dialog, unless of course, the writer know nothing about English and "forgot" to put in quotation marks, in which case, I'm prob not interested in it anyway. If, as a writer, you are going to take the time to do this, then learn how to do it right.

Just my opinion, but there are thousands upon thousands of stories out there and if I'm going to take my time to read one, then as a writer, I would try to make it well worth worth reading.

HammerHeart - that would be GREAT if you could share that story. I've taken to "archiving" the stories I really like now that I see they can "disappear" if the poster deletes them.

As for the writing styles - I guess I'm looking less for "good writing" as I am a "real story" - something that has really happened to the person/s sharing it. I'll forgive slightly bad writing if there is a high level of reality in their sharing.

That said, I certainly *appreciate* the better writing - sure makes it easier on the eyes (and brain!), but sometimes, when the writing is *too good*, I suspect this story itself made up. Still, even if the story is made up, if it's *really good*, I'll go along for the "ride".

But again, (not specifically to you, but to everyone reading) this thread is intended to be links to those stories that are (or seem to be) real people sharing their *actual* experiences.
Wannabe - see my captions at http://www.cuckoldplace.com/27_74912_1.html

this is my favourite one

http://www.cuckoldplace.com/6_38708_0.html

From a womens perpective and how she went about making hubby cuckold

Oooh, nice one Linace! I love the ones from a female perspective. Fun_gall is fantastic. Thanks for sharing!
Wannabe - see my captions at http://www.cuckoldplace.com/27_74912_1.html

This story is epic in length, so for those of you who may want to jump into more of the 'meat' (pun intended) of it, I'd suggest reading the introduction below in italics and then maybe picking it up around Chap 5 or so. However, Micky-D is by far the best author of Cuckold stories I have ever come across, so if you like the build up, please read it all!

OK - I'm sure it will take quite a few posts but here goes:

"Take your medicine, Honey!" By Micky_D


A faithful husband working abroad for six months suffers a cruel injury. On his return home, he learns that a combination of his debility and the resultant medication will prevent him from sexually satisfying his equally faithful wife for several months. His inability to perform soon fuels his long-standing fantasies about his wife not being so faithful. His frustrated wife slowly fulfills his wildest fantasies whilst gratifying her own needful cravings. On his recovery he discovers a small problem, and his wife suggests an unusual solution that may extend his fantasies further than he ever expected...



Chapter 1

I have always hated hospitals. Loathed them, in fact; the clinical aromas, the sterile feel, the gloomy atmosphere, the poker-faced staff. I would have given anything to be miles away from the damned place.

As of this moment, however, I had little choice in the matter. I was ensconced in one of the consulting rooms in the labyrinthine hospital complex, lying on an examination table with my genitals exposed like a horizontal flasher. The pale blue hospital gown that I wore - those hideous goddamned things that expose your ass to all and sundry - was bunched around my waist like a hula skirt.

I looked down at the semi-bald pate of the specialist bending over to examine me and I stifled a soft curse. What was his name again? Rogers. That was it. Dr. Rogers. No - Mister Rogers, I reminded myself. Specialists didn't like being referred to as Doctor.

I felt my pulse quicken. Fucking quacks; I'd had enough of them in the last six days. I was not in a good mood.

Mr. Rogers gently lowered my penis and nodded sagely at my crotch, as if my cock had just uttered some nugget of medical wisdom that only he was privy to.

"Whoever did the operation in Vietnam did excellent work," he said. "The stitching is very good indeed. Really top-class."

An irrational flush of annoyance furrowed my brow as I realised that he was addressing his remarks to my cock, and not to my face; I suddenly knew how women felt when they complained about how some men talked to their breasts.

"I think the surgeon's name was Dr. Sew Mai Kok - something like that." I replied dryly.

He either missed or ignored the sarcasm in my voice. "Well, it really is excellent work," he assured me again, as if I should likewise be impressed. He straightened and removed his latex gloves, and grandly gestured to a vinyl chair in front of his desk in a manner that suggested he had conjured the chair into existence. I assumed that he wanted me to sit in it. I lowered myself gingerly from the examination table, rearranged the irritating hospital gown, and grumpily seated myself in the proffered chair.

Mr. Rogers was a strange looking critter; he was exceedingly tall and angular and thin as a reed, but his head was discordantly round and flat as a pie plate. Looking at his thin body and large, rotund head, I suddenly thought how apt it was that he greatly resembled the dicks that he treated. The thought made me grin waspishly, and I wondered if any of his other patients had made the same observation. He strode purposefully around to his side of the desk and sank into his leather chair like a felled giraffe. His leather chair whooshed as air rushed out of it.

He peered at me over his desk as if he were surprised to see me there. He pressed his fingertips together and rested his index fingers under his chin, as only medicos seemed to do. "How on earth did it happen?" he asked.

I sighed and briefly closed my eyes; everyone wanted to know how it happened. It occurred to me that if it had been a two-inch cut in my arm, or my leg, or even my face, then people wouldn't really care how it happened. But get a deep two-inch slash in your dick, and suddenly every bastard wants to know the grisly details. Fucking ghouls, all of them - like people slowing down to stare greedily at a car accident, wanting to absorb every morbid detail.

I raised my eyelids and slowly focused on Mr. Roger's round face hovering over his desk like a moon looming over the horizon. Maybe he wanted to chronicle this one and submit it to the Lancet, I thought rancorously.

I decided to give him the long version. I gritted my teeth and began: "Just over five months ago I was contracted to work as the chief supervisor on a construction job in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly known as Saigon, building a new multi-storey shopping center. It was a six-month contract, working six days a week. I didn't really want the job, since it would mean I'd be away from my wife and home for half a year - but the money they offered was too good to refuse. There's a boom in building there right now, and they're offering top dollar for guys with my experience in the industry.

"Anyway - last Friday four of the company big shots fronted up, wanting to check out progress on the job. There wasn't anything new for them to see, but what the hell - they paid my salary, so I started showing them around. We went up to the first floor. You have to understand that since it was a commercial building and not a residential one, the first floor was a lot higher than normal - maybe twenty-five feet off the ground.

"There was a section up there that was still accessible only by scaffold, and we started to cross it. Whether the scaffold rigging was faulty, or the bolts snapped, or whether the weight of five men was too much for one weak section to bear, I don't know. But as we crossed it, something broke - the scaffold gave way at one end, right under our feet.

"It all happened so fast - one minute I was just walking, and the next minute I was falling. My first reaction was to grab one of the steel uprights, the round supports that held the scaffolding up - but I could only get my right hand around the tubing, since I was holding a clipboard in my other hand and I didn't think to drop it in time. Grabbing hold of the support with my right hand swung my body outwards slightly, but with the downward momentum that I already had I couldn't slow myself up with one hand - not around the smooth steel. All it did was slow my fall a little, but I still slid down the pole - fast.

"It just so happened that there was a sign bolted to the scaffold bracing under me, and it overlapped the support that I was sliding down by a few inches. The sign was made from cheap tin sheeting, and as you can obviously guess, the corner of the tin hadn't been rounded off, and it was extremely thin and sharp. Under normal circumstances, this didn't matter; the sign was eight feet above the ground, and nobody was going to hit their head on it that high up - even if they were wearing a safety helmet. What they didn't think of was someone coming down the pole, like I was doing.

"My crotch collided with the sharp edge of the overhanging tin. All I felt at the time was a painful sting and then a jolt that basically halted my descent and pushed me backwards, and I lost my grip on the support. I fell the last six or seven feet or so to the ground and landed on my back, knocking the wind out of me. I looked up the see two of the company guys hanging from the edge of the scaffold, yelling and scrambling to get back up. The other two guys had fallen like I had, and they had landed beside me and one of them - the one who ended up with a broken pelvis - was screaming. I raised my head to look at him - and that's when I saw the blood on my thigh. My blood."

I paused my account, remembering the hot burning that had started then. I had reached down to my crotch and felt the ripped material of my trousers, and when I looked at my fingers they were slick with blood. Then the pain suddenly tore through me, and I realised that I was screaming too.

The next two hours or so was now a blur of agony and shock and dread. Luckily the hospital was close by, and I remembered how the ambulance siren had wailed. I was eventually sent to the operating theatre for emergency surgery.

After I awoke from the anaesthetic, the bespectacled surgeon had appeared at my bedside. In reasonable English he'd explained what had happened; as I slid down the steel pole, the sharp corner of the tin sign had effortlessly slashed through my trousers and underwear. It had grazed my scrotum, luckily pushing it backwards out of the way. My luck, however, was short-lived, and the sharp metal corner then pierced the underside of my penis, near the root and slightly to one side, half-slicing and half-ripping nearly three-quarters of the way through as I continued sliding down the steel support. The jolt that curtailed my rapid descent and threw me backwards was my steel belt buckle catching the upper edge of the tin sign. The surgeon said that I was fortunate - if I hadn't been wearing the belt, then not only would my fall have been heavier, but the sharp metal might have continued upward, cleaving my glans in two, and carrying on to tear me open from crotch to throat. What a happy thought. Just marvelous.

A total of eighteen stitches had closed the two-inch slice in my cock, as well as some internal stitching. Painkillers took the edge off the agony.

I had spent the next three days in hospital for observation. A somber delegation of company officials duly paid me a visit, informing me that a flight back to Australia had been arranged at my convenience. As far as I was concerned, it was convenient for me to leave immediately, and I told them to arrange a flight ASAP. I wanted to go home. I gingerly boarded a flight from Tan Son Nhut airport the next day, my crotch swathed in bandaging under my loose trousers. My frantic wife Angela had met me at Tullamarine airport in Melbourne.

Mr. Rogers shook his head and tutted. "Very nasty," he intoned tonelessly. "I assume that you will seek legal recourse for this injury?"

"You bet I will," I replied. I had made a preliminary phone call to a law firm yesterday, and they were already rubbing their greedy little hands together in anticipation of the settlement they could demand if I wasn't satisfied with the offer of compensation that the company was sure to offer me.

Mr. Rogers nodded curtly. He became suddenly businesslike. "Now for your prognosis. Well, the urethra hasn't been severed, as you are probably aware. Missed it by a fraction, but it's perfectly intact - so that's excellent news. There also appears to be no nerve damage, and the underside of your glans was only just nicked. You will also be pleased to hear that we expect you will make a full recovery in time. It's a very nasty injury, but it will heal just fine."

I let out a soft breath. Thank Christ!

"Now for some new that isn't so good," he began. "Wounds of this severity are obviously serious no matter where they are on the body. But a deep incision in the penis has added complications. You are probably aware that the penis is unique in the manner in which it can change size and shape, from flaccid to erect, and vice-versa."

I nodded firmly.

Mr. Rogers continued: "The stitches that are holding the tissues together need time to allow healing to begin. In the worst case scenario, an erection can cause enough swelling to rip the stitches out completely, and even at best an erection can put undue strain on the stitches and interfere with the healing process by causing movement that breaks the first tenuous bonding of the tissues. Naturally you won't be able to engage in sexual activity for a considerable time anyway, but involuntary erections can occur at other times, as we all know - especially at night while you're sleeping."

I nodded again, a little less enthusiastically this time. In fact, I did remember laying in the hospital bed and at one point wondering what would happen to the stitches if I happened to get a hard on. A gruesome vision of my cock slowly peeling apart and bursting like an overcooked cocktail frankfurt had made my testicles shrivel.

Mr. Rogers spoke on. "So until your penis is well on the way to a full recovery, it's important that we prevent any erections that you might have - nocturnal and otherwise."

"How is that possible?" I asked. Mr. Rogers reached into a drawer and retrieved a plastic-coated diagram showing a cross-section of the male reproductive organs. He placed it on the desktop and spun it around so I could clearly see it. The picture had enough detail to frighten small children.

Mr. Rogers used his silver pen as a pointer. "These muscles here control a kind of valve which holds blood in the spongy tissues of the penis. This is what causes an erection. You have probably heard of Viagra, which helps to contract these muscles in men with erectile problems."

"I know about Viagra," I told him. "I think everyone knows what it's for."

He gave a curt nod and continued. "About ten years ago it was noted that a certain type of anti-depressant drug had an unexpected side-effect - it relaxed these muscles instead. It therefore had the opposite effect of Viagra, hindering and in many cases halting erections altogether. The anti-depressant was not popular with many men for this reason."

"I can see why," I grunted. "They probably had enough to be depressed about as it was."

Mr. Rogers uttered a fruity chuckle. "Indeed. Anyway, one bright American researcher decided to isolate the chemical composition that was specifically relaxing these muscles. He eventually succeeded, and the ADA approved the drug early this year. When taken regularly, it causes temporary impotency. As you may well understand, the need for its application is rare - but it cases such as yours, it can greatly improve the chances of rapid healing and a speedy recovery."

"So if I start taking this medication, I can't become hard?"

"Exactly. The penis will remain flaccid no matter how much stimulation is applied. And, in fact, right after your surgery last week your attending physician there introduced it in tablet form as a precautionary measure, according to the records that I was sent by the hospital there - so you're already taking it."

I creased my eyebrows. When I was in hospital in Ho Chi Minh City I simply took the pills proffered by the nurses without asking what the hell they were - not that many of them could speak English in any event. I had assumed they were all antibiotics, and I was issued with a seven-day supply of three different tablets when I left the hospital, along with instructions on when to take what. Mr. Rogers had already asked me about that. It explained why I hadn't gotten an erection since the accident, I guess.

"I see," I replied. "So I just keep taking the pills until everything is healed. How long will that take?"

His smile faded. "Usually in a case such as yours, it will take upwards of ten to twelve weeks."

"Twelve weeks?" I gasped.

"Possibly even more," he replied dolefully. "Your penis has suffered extensive trauma, and it simply takes time to heal. Much will depend on everything going smoothly, and this doesn't always happen. It's not uncommon for injuries of this nature to take as long as sixteen weeks to heal properly."

That sat me on my ass. Sixteen fucking weeks! Or, more accurately, sixteen weeks without fucking! I slumped in the chair. While I was working in Vietnam, many of my colleagues had regularly used the cheap and easily available whores that infested the area around our tacky hotel - but I never did. I had been faithful to Angela. I performed a quick calculation; I had already spent five and a half months celibate - and now possibly another four months on top of that. Over nine months without sex! I stifled another groan.

Mr. Rogers gazed sympathetically at me, and he read my thoughts. "But after you are healed, you should be as good as new, sexually and otherwise." he informed me cheerfully. "Of course, we'll have to assume that scar tissue won't become a factor."

"A factor in what?" I asked sharply. A sudden chill went through my stomach.

Mr. Rogers cleared his throat. "Well, in some cases scar tissue can cause the erect penis to develop a slight curve on the side that the scar is located on. This is because some elasticity can be lost when scarring occurs. In your case, since the incision was on the underside, you may develop a slight downward curve. And you may lose a little length when you are fully erect, as well."

My mouth drooped open; more great fucking news. "How much length?" I asked.

"Oh, possibly no more than half an inch or so. Negligible, really."

Negligible. That was easy for him to say - it wasn't his cock we were discussing. I glared stonily at him over his desk. I guess I was average size in the dick department, but I wasn't exactly John Holmes, either - like any man, I wanted all the length I could get.

"But that's all in the future," he added. "And for the nonce, we'll be optimistic and hope that these factors won't affect you at all."

I heaved a heavy sigh. "Very well."

The remainder of the consultation involved him telling me the various medications I needed to take, and strong advice to keep my penis clean and dry and to change the dressing regularly, to refrain from intercourse (as if I needed to be told that - the berk!), to take care showering, to avoid strenuous exercise, etc. He was typing on a keyboard as he spoke, and soon an inkjet printer on the desk whined and ejected several sheets of paper like flat white tongues.

"I'll get you to come back and see me next Thursday at ten o'clock," he concluded. "I'll also contact your local GP - a Dr. Douglas, I believe - and inform him of your situation. If you notice anything untoward, then go and see him immediately."

He handed me the sheets of paper he had just printed. They were prescriptions. "Get these filled, and when you've finished the course of medication they issued you in Ho Chi Minh City, just switch over to the new batch and follow the instructions for dosage. Use the painkiller as needed, but don't exceed the maximum dose of eight pills per day. I'll get a nurse to redress the bandages for you, and then you can be on your way. See you next week at ten." He must have already pressed a button on his intercom, because a nurse entered the room as if summoned by magic. Mr. Rogers made his requirements known to her, and she led me back to the room where I had first changed into the hospital gown.

Ten minutes later, with my bruised and sewn member re-swathed, I slowly made my way back out to the reception area. Angela arose and walked over to me.

"How did it go?" she anxiously asked.

"I'll tell you all about it in the car, hun" I said somberly. "Let's get out of here."

As we strode under a large sign that read 'EXIT', I was suddenly reminded of the tin sign that had done me so much damage six days ago. I had seen the sign bolted to the scaffold support dozens of times in the last few months. It had been emblazoned with a caricature of a man from the neck upwards, pointing to his safety helmet, and the ironic words underneath had read:
'SAFETY FIRST!'

********************************************************************** ***************

Chapter 2

Angela drove as we made our way onto the Monash freeway. At this time of day, the traffic was relatively light. It was early spring, and the sun beamed with the promise of a hot summer.

The first thing I told Angela was that I was going to be fine. The relief was clearly visible on her face. I then explained exactly what the specialist had said, including how long it might take for the wound to properly heal. I though I saw the corners of her mouth droop slightly when I mentioned it may take sixteen weeks; she had been without sex for nearly six months, as well.

"But everything will be fine after that?" she asked.

"So Moonface told me," I replied. She gave a quick bark of laughter at my unkind description of Mr. Roger's rotund countenance; she had seen the man when we arrived. I continued: "He said there's no nerve damage, and everything seems to be intact. It's just gonna take time to heal."

"Thank Christ for that. You were lucky by the sounds of it, Michael."

I also mentioned the medication that would keep me flaccid, and the reason for using it. Angela worked as a highly successful sales executive for a major pharmaceutical company, and this engaged her professional interest.

"I vaguely recall reading a memo about that drug," she said when I had finished. "But I don't know who's distributing it."

"You'll find out soon enough." I replied. "I have to get the prescriptions filled, so you'll see the packet. We can do that when we get back home."

She nodded. I swiveled my head to look at her. I had forgotten just how gorgeous my wife was, and just how proud I was to be her husband. At thirty-two years of age, Angela was seven years younger than I was. She had wavy, shoulder-length blonde hair that framed a pretty, square-jawed face. I was always reminded of Farrah Fawcett's jawline when I looked at her - but the similarity ended there; Angela's mouth was broader, and her cheekbones were wider, and her eyes were deep green. When she smiled, her whole face lit up.

She stood about five feet, nine inches tall, and diligent workouts on our home gym and regular exercise had given her a body that women ten years younger would have envied. She worked hard to maintain her body, and she was justly proud of her efforts. Her long legs were probably her best feature; they were perfectly shaped and well proportioned, with tight calf muscles and lean, slender thighs. When she wore a mini-skirt she had no shortage of appreciative male glances. She had a flat stomach and a tapered waist that flared out into broad, curvaceous hips, and an ass that was practically edible. Her firm breasts were of average size, but had that delicious cantilevered shape that could take a man's breath away. She once told me that her measurements were exactly 36-24-36 - and I could easily believe it. When she wore a tight dress, her entire body screamed Woman!

I often wondered how much her success as a sales executive was helped by how good she looked in a snug skirt. This was perhaps sexist and unfair of me; she was extremely good at her job, but her feminine charms were amply evident even when dressed in her relatively tame work attire. I would have bet they would have enticed more than one pharmacist to purchase the products she proffered. They would have enticed me.

It was the second marriage for us both; I had divorced my first wife five years ago, and Angela's first husband, an up-and-coming barrister, had died in a car accident at around the same time.

"But our marriage was already dead," Angela once told me. "If Carl hadn't had the accident, we would've been divorced soon after anyway. I already had the papers drawn up."

She explained that Carl had been fond of other women. He'd started having affairs soon after they were married, and Angela had at first been forgiving, accepting his promises to stop his dalliances. But he didn't stop. Angela's love for him slowly died, and her smoldering rage slowly grew with each lie that he told her.

"So in the end I had a couple of affairs myself," she told me "I know two wrongs don't make a right, but at the time maybe I just wanted him to see how it felt. Or maybe I just needed the sex - because I sure as hell wasn't getting a lot from Carl."

I had raised my eyebrows at that: Angela was, as I have stated, an extremely attractive lady. I had delicately asked why she and her husband had not made love more.

Angela had laughed bitterly: "Because I wouldn't let him fuck me up the ass."

Her reply had startled me. She explained further: "Carl had a major kink for anal sex, you see. He'd pestered me about it for years, ever since we got married. Back in those days, it just wasn't for me, and we had so many arguments over it. The more I resisted, the more he tried to persuade me. He became more and more obsessed with it, and he would buy magazines and videos and DVD's - all featuring anal sex. He once even deliberately tried to get me almost blind drunk by spiking my drinks so he could talk me into it. I have a good idea that if I'd passed out, he would've done it to me while I was unconscious.

"The next morning I told him he needed professional help - and of course that didn't go down too well. So, since I wouldn't give him anal sex, he stopped wanting vaginal sex with me - which told me a lot about how he really felt for me and our marriage. It was incredibly hurtful, and it was probably the last nail in the coffin. Anyway, his slutty little secretary must've been more accommodating, since she was the last little trollop he was involved with. Maybe she thought that if she gave up her ass, then she'd get a promotion, or Carl would even leave me for her - she was such an airhead that she would've believed that. But I bet there were a few mornings when she couldn't sit straight on her fucking office chair."

I had heard similar stories in the past; whilst I wasn't into anal sex and had never suggested it to Angela, I certainly didn't begrudge those men and women who did enjoy it. But to allow disagreements about it to corrode your relationship to the point of dissolving was insane.

The final irony was that on the night a drunk driver ploughed into the side of his car and killed him, Carl was on his way back from a tryst with his secretary. He had told Angela he was working late - but the accident occurred just two blocks from his secretary's house on the other side of town.

"If he hadn't always been thinking with his dick, he'd still be alive today. Probably divorced - but alive." Angela had dryly stated.

I had met Angela about six months after my own divorce. Some buddies of mine had invited me to join their regular Wednesday night bowling team, and apparently some of Angela's friends had inveigled her to do the same. The first time I saw her at the bowling alley, she was wearing a red dress that hugged every curve of her body. When she sent a ball down the laneway, I'm sure that every male eye in visual range was glued to her gorgeous ass pulling the material of her dress tautly across her behind. It wasn't exactly a come-fuck-me dress - but it was certainly dropping some heavy hints.

I took instant note of the hints, and by chance the next Wednesday night my team was drawn to bowl against hers. I flirted with her, and after learning that she was single I asked her out to dinner, and she accepted my invitation. To cut a long story short, we became a couple, fell deeply in love, and got married two years later.

I found Angela to be a very sensual lady, and her enthusiasm and inventiveness in bed was a pleasant and very welcome surprise after my passionless first marriage. She was one of those women who exuded an almost understated sexuality, as though she kept her passions in check by exerting only sufficient restraint; you sensed that behind her veneer of propriety there lurked a fervent libido. To say that she had animal magnetism was an apt description. I could see flashes of this in her spontaneous knack for bringing out the eroticism in normally mundane situations.

For example, we once went to a restaurant with two other couples. Angela had slipped her shoes off under the table, and I suddenly felt the toes of her left foot slip up under the cuff of my trousers. I turned my head towards her, and she sent me a soft, teasing smile before returning her attention back to the conversation at the table.

All through the main course her toes had slid sensually up and down my instep. Angela was well aware that this turned me on. As she ate, she carried on conversing and laughing with the other guests as though nothing was happening under the table. When the main course was finished, she leaned over and whispered in my ear: "I need to use the bathroom in a few minutes. So do you. Follow me when I go."

I gave her a perplexed nod. Several minutes later, she excused herself and arose from the table. I also bemusedly excused myself as she had instructed, and followed her into the dim hallway where the toilets were located. The women's toilet was unoccupied (I found out later that Angela knew it was empty, since she had been watching the hallway entrance). She took my hand and quickly drew me inside and locked the door.

Without another word, she sat down on the toilet seat, unzipped me, and - despite my initial (and feeble) protests - she proceeded to give me a blowjob as I stood trembling in front of her. She is extremely good at this particular sexual act, and in less than two minutes I was struggling to remain on my feet and stifling my moans of pleasure as I exploded in her mouth. She winked up at me as she swallowed every drop of my cream.

She then re-zipped me, and checked that the hallway was clear, and with a soft giggle of finality she quickly ushered me out. I dazedly crossed to the male toilet, also fortunately unoccupied, and then shakily made my way back to our table, the warm afterglow of climax making my legs wobbly. Angela returned a few minutes later, and as she began breezily chatting with our fellow diners I admired her aplomb. A waiter shortly materialised to take dessert orders. As I raised my glass to my lips, Angela looked at me with the slightest of smiles and demurely announced: "I think I'll get the vanilla pudding. I really fancy something warm and creamy after gobbling all that meat just now."

I had nearly spat a mouthful of wine all over the table. To make matters worse, a woman seated to her left peered over her menu and whinnied: "Mmm, that sounds yummy! I think I'll have that, too."

Angela had rolled right along: "It's delicious! Michael often gives it to me for dessert," She turned her radiant face toward me. "You serve yours with nuts, don't you, honey?" Her eyes twinkled, and I had been lucky to quell the hysterical giggled that fluttered in my stomach.

On another occasion, we went shopping in the local mall one Saturday morning. Just after we had arrived, we strolled into a women's clothing store so Angela could look for a new skirt. She found one to her liking - a slinky black number - and she went into the shop change room to try it on. She modeled it for me, and after getting my approval for it, she decided to buy it and wear it immediately. Just after we left the shop, she smiled impishly and reached into her jacket, and passed me a wadded ball of black material. It took me a few seconds to realise it was her panties.

"Put those in your pocket for me please, babe," she quietly told me. My eyes must have widened, because she laughed softly and leaned forward to whisper: "That's right, honey. I'm not wearing anything under my new skirt."

For the next two hours we strolled around the mall, and she would make oblique references to the fact that she was naked under her new purchase. I am not sure if this type of fetish turns all men on, but it sure as hell turned me on. Angela could see the effect it was having on me, and that just made her sly remarks about it all the more blatant. As we sat drinking coffee in one of the cafes inside the mall, she whispered in my ear: "Just think - if it wasn't for all these people here, you could slide you hand up my thighs and feel just how wet I am for you, honey." She had pronounced it in a slow, sexy drawl - whettttt. My coffee cup had rattled sharply against the saucer when I put it down.

The moment we arrived back home, I practically dragged her into the bedroom, and within a minute we were making passionate love.

After, as we lay spent and panting in afterglow, she asked me how much it had turned me on knowing she was walking around with no panties under her skirt. I answered honestly, and I told her it made me very hot - which she already knew.

She propped herself up on her elbow and rested her head on her hand. "Why does it turn you on?" she asked.

I thought for a few seconds. "To know you're naked underneath just makes me hot, I guess. Especially out in public with other guys around."

Her eyes twinkled in sudden comprehension. "Ahh," she said. "I guess it would remind you of that little fantasy."

I smiled softly and nodded. That little fantasy, as she referred to it, was a kink I had developed in my early twenties - a voyeuristic craving to watch my partner have sex with another man. Angela, who did a lot of reading and surfed the Internet regularly, had once told me that it was commonly known as a cuckold fantasy.

During my brief and dispassionate previous marriage, I had never even mentioned this fantasy to my first wife. She hadn't been the sort in whom you would confide anything that smacked of sexual deviance - otherwise it was likely to be thrown into your face during the next argument. I had learned this the hard way.

Angela, however, was completely different; she had an openness that was totally refreshing. She loved to explore the steamier boundaries of sexuality, and discussing fantasies during pillowtalk was a favorite post-coital pastime of hers. I came to trust her completely, and I told her things that I had never told another living soul - my cuckold fantasy being one of them.

When I first, and somewhat shyly, told her about this little kink, I was slightly fearful of her reaction; would she be shocked? Outraged? Disgusted? To my relief, she had simply raised an eyebrow, and told me that she had read that it was a very common fantasy for a lot of men, and that it didn't upset her at all. She stated that it was one fantasy that we would probably never act out for real, but she added that she would make use of the fact that it aroused me.

That was another thing; it had been difficult to imagine my shrewish former wife with a lover; her frigid nature and indifferent attitude towards sex had somewhat dampened the erotic appeal of the fantasy. By contrast, Angela's sensual personality and alluring body made it all too easy for me to imagine her ardently coupling with another man. In fact, Angela's latent eroticism combined with the fact that her job brought her into contact with many different men on a daily basis had made this fantasy blossom like a weed in fertile soil; I found myself thinking about it more and more.

In fact, the next Friday night after I had confessed my little kink to her, I arrived home from work first. Angela came home about twenty minutes later, and I could immediately tell that she was feeling frisky. She kissed me passionately as soon as she walked in the door. She was a great kisser, and her soft lips and warm, moist tongue soon had me hardening in my jeans. She guided my hand up her skirt, and when my fingers slid up her smooth thigh to her pussy I drew a sharp breath; once again she wasn't wearing panties. She broke our kiss.

"Oh!" she drawled softly. "I must have left them in the motel room - after I was with my lover."

If I had been totally hard at that moment, I swear I would have nearly creamed my jeans.

Within two minutes we were naked in the bedroom. I shook as I mounted her. She gasped softly as I slid into her, and she wrapped her legs around my hips as they began pumping. Her eyes glittered as she looked up at me.

"Mmm, fuck me baby," she urged softly. "Give it to me. And as you fuck me, think about where I left my panties!"

I had always prided myself on being able to last for at least ten minutes or longer when we made love. But upon hearing these teasing, carnal words from her, the unthinkable happened; orgasm suddenly boiled up inside me like an overheated radiator that suddenly had its cap removed. A few seconds later I moaned loudly and exploded inside her. I had not climaxed so rapidly since I was a teenager - if even then.

I dazedly collapsed onto her, shaking and panting. She sighed warmly under me and wrapped her arms around my back.

"Mmm, you came so fast, baby!" she said quietly. "I haven't ever seen you cum so quick."

I gasped that I hadn't seen myself cum so quick, either.

She chuckled softly. "Mmm! It's a good thing that my panties are in my handbag then, hmm?"

From that moment on, Angela started employing this form of tease on a regular basis. Naturally it didn't become the sole focus of our sex life, but she quickly realised that she could use this kink to instantly heighten my desire and arousal. Over the next few months she used numerous ploys to discover what new buttons she could create using this fantasy, and she had no hesitation in pushing them - hard. The intensity varied, depending upon the circumstances - from teasingly subtle to blatantly pornographic.

For example, one subtle change involved her work attire; she naturally dressed as her executive position dictated - usually a plain skirt with a hemline a respectable two or three inches above the knee, pantyhose, a modest blouse and business jacket. The underwear that she usually wore was correspondingly tame and sensible. One morning she called me into the bedroom just as she began dressing for work. Instead of finding her in her usual staid undergarments and pantyhose, I was stunned to see that she had dressed in a sheer set of matching black bra and panties, and as a finishing touch she had donned a black suspender belt and stockings. She naturally saw my expression of surprise, and she smiled mischievously: "I just thought this might give you something to think about all day, honey," she told me.

And think about it I did. At work my mind often played with images of Angela talking business with a male client, knowing that underneath her staid attire she was encased in skimpy lingerie and stockings. After Angela got home that evening I was naturally frisky, just as she had planned. She teased me for a while - making small-talk, but sitting with her delicious legs entwined and contriving it so that her skirt rode up, exposing the tops of her stockings. She finally deigned to notice my excited glances at her nylon-encased legs.

"Like what you see, honey?" she asked. Of course, I nodded, and she demurely added: "I'm sure a few other men might have had a good, long look today, as well. So, are you just going sit there and drool at me all night - or are you going to take me into that bedroom and fuck me?"

Naturally, I chose the latter option.

She didn't wear lingerie under her weekday attire a lot - but just often enough to make the tactic extremely effective.

On the more blatant side, she would occasionally launch into a wickedly salacious narrative as we made love. For example, she would start by telling me that one of her major clients had been indecisive about a large purchase, but that he had suggested he would sign the contract in Angela offered him an extra incentive. The 'incentive' was, of course, sex - and Angela would then tell me that he was such a hunk that she had eagerly agreed, and that the pair of them had then gone to a motel and spent the afternoon fucking. Angela would pitch her sweet, sultry voice so that her lewd story had a tone of almost apologetic but unabashed glee - like she was aware she had done something extremely 'naughty', but that she had been unable to stop herself from relishing it.

She had dozens of variations on this theme, and naturally these deliciously wicked stories would drive me absolutely insane with excitement. I am sure that Angela sometimes did it just to see how fast she could make me explode, and at other times she would teasingly start and stop her lurid tale, halting me on the brink numerous times before winding me up yet again until I was a shaking, trembling wreck. With each story she told she learned something more about what turned my crank, and even I was surprised at the lascivious and carnal thoughts and desires that she was able to uncover in the murky depths of my sexual psyche. It was like riding on an erotic roller coaster, with each new crest offering a new thrill, and Angela not only rode it with me, but she kept cranking up the speed.

She did, however, ensure that I was aware that her titillating stories were just figments of her imagination. After one torrid lovemaking session in which she had alluded to a phantom lover with more kinky zeal than usual, she may have felt that I needed reassurance. We were laying naked in bed during the early evening, and we had been making soft, post-coital conversation for twenty minutes or so. She was curled up next to me with her head resting on my chest, softly running her nails over my stomach.

"When I tell you those things about another guy, you know I'm only teasing you, right, honey?" she had asked.

"Yeah, I know that, babe," I relied. "It works, by the way."

She chuckled softly. "Oh, I know it does! But I just wanted you to know that I would never sleep around behind your back. After having Carl do it to me so many times, I know how much damage it can do and how much it hurts, and I love you too much to ever risk letting that happen."

I kissed the top of her head. "I know that, too. Thank you. And ditto."

"So just know that when I tell you the wicked little stories that I do, it's just done to excite you. If we ever did take that fantasy to the ultimate level, we'd talk about it first - a lot. I would never just go and sleep with someone else."

This was the first time I had ever heard her mention the possibility of her cuckolding me for real. A tingle of excitement rippled through me, and I felt my cock twitch. "Do you think we ever will take it to the ultimate level?" I tentatively asked her.

She tilted her face up at me and smiled softly. "Not right now, honey, but in the future? You never know. It's a very, very big step to take, and once you open the box, it can't be shut again. I would need to be totally sure it's what you wanted. If I ever did decide to bring it to life for you, it would just be to drive you absolutely insane," Her smile and her tone took on a teasing edge. "And maybe for me to have a little 'fun'."

Her last statement sent another erotic ripple through me. "You would enjoy doing it?" I asked. My cock began to harden.

"If I knew that it was driving you out of your mind with arousal and lust? Then sure I would. If I found a guy who I really fancied, and knowing what it would do to you, then sure I'd enjoy it." She glanced down to see that my cock had arisen to almost half-mast. She turned her face upward to me again. "Is that turning you on, honey? Imagining me not only really doing it, but enjoying it as another guy fucks me?"

"Yes," I answered softly.

Angela smiled softly again. She slid her hand down and wrapped her fingers around my growing member. She began firmly stroking me, and I quickly became totally hard.

She pressed her face close to mine, and kissed me. "Well, maybe one day if the circumstances were right, I would do it - but we would discuss it a lot first, honey. It's not on my 'to do' list right now, but let's just say that one day it might be."

She released my cock and arose to her knees and swung her right leg over my stomach, straddling me. She reached down and grasped my hard shaft again, her thighs warm and soft against my hips. She guided the head of my cock between her pussy lips and grinned down at me: "There is one thing on my 'to do' list that I need to do right now, though - and that's for me to fuck you."

She slowly sank down, and my cock gratefully slid into her moist heat. She carried out her pledge - and the bedroom was soon ringing to our combined grunts and moans of pleasure as we made love for the second time that night.

Her disclosure about being at least open to the possibility of cuckolding me in the future had naturally increased my excitement. I knew better than to try and force the issue; Angela was not a lady to be pushed around by anyone, including me. It wasn't my style to push anyway, and Angela was well aware of that. She did, however, subsequently discuss it with me on several occasions, but only in hypothetical terms, and to further broaden her own understanding of my little kink. She once summed it up beautifully: "You know that I probably won't sleep with another man, but I haven't ruled it out completely - and it drives you wild to know that I could if I wanted to."

The status quo remained this way until I went to work abroad. Angela continued to refine her methods of tease and her story-telling skills, and to be perfect honest I was quite happy with that. As she had stated - bringing this fantasy to life would be a very large step to take. But at the same time, I did continue to entertain visions of Angela truly taking this ultimate plunge, and writhing naked under some hot stud, her back arching and her long legs slithering over his back as he took her.

When I had reluctantly taken the lucrative six-month contract in Vietnam, it naturally meant that my wife and I would be apart for half a year. I was obviously not looking forward to this for several reasons. One of them was a vague sense of niggling insecurity. Angela had sensed my fears right away, and she made it very clear that she would remain faithful whilst I was away working, and once again telling me that she loved me very deeply. I appreciated her reassurance, and I lightly added that our time apart could make that little fantasy a lot more intense. She had smiled softly, and said that if I still wanted to play with it whist we were apart, then she would make sure that she spun me some mind-blowing tales.

Before I departed, I had purchased a laptop PC and I made sure that I got broadband access in the crummy hotel room where I was lodged. Angela had our desktop PC at home, and although we often spoke by telephone, the bulk of our communication was through email and over IRC and MSN. This was a cheap and convenient form of contact for us, and we used this electronic method to chat almost each night after I got back from the site.

One of the reasons that I wasn't tempted by the local prostitutes in Ho Chi Minh City - apart from deeply loving my wife and wanting to remain faithful - was that Angela had learned that text messaging could have its own delicious erotic nuances. She quickly became adept at composing erotic emails and turning her writing skills to cybersex. In all modesty I got quite good at it as well, and many times my lascivious words were able to make Angela caress herself to climax thousands of miles away; I wanted to keep my lady as happy as I could.

In turn, she also learned that a written form of my cuckold fantasy could drive me just as wild as a spoken version. Once again, this wasn't an everyday thing, but Angela would spin a different tale involving an imaginary lover maybe once a week. The combination of being so far apart and from seeing it in written form actually made her stories more plausible. Of course, her teasing was just that - teasing. But it had a scintillating affect on me no matter how many times she played with variations of this theme.

In fact, on the night before my unfortunate accident she had told me a titillating story about a colleague inviting her out to dinner a few days hence, and how she was planning on serving him up a hot, creamy dessert later that night.

Now - as we coasted along the freeway in brilliant sunshine - I looked at her pretty face gazing ahead through the windscreen, and I thought about the possibility of sixteen long weeks without being able to make love to her, and I sighed heavily. Fate had not been kind in recent days. I dropped my gaze to her bare left leg; I had forgotten how gorgeous her legs were.

Suddenly, an unexpected thought popped into my mind - a thought so darkly lascivious and carnal that I drew a sharp breath. Angela must have heard my soft gasp, because she turned to face me for a second, and she slid her hand into mine and smiled softly. The warmth of her touch flushed the thought back into the dark recesses of my mind.

But I knew that in the coming weeks, and possibly months, the thought would return.

Many times.

Chapter 3


A week later I was once again confronted with the round countenance of Mr. Rogers as I sat in the consulting room. My swollen and bruised member had returned to some semblance of normalcy - if one was able to ignore the seam of sutures on the underside - and Mr. Rogers told me that he was very pleased with progress.

He asked me if there were any problems - any unusual pain or difficulty urinating, and so forth. I told him that under the circumstances everything seemed to be about as good as I could expect, apart from some itchiness.

"The itching is a good sign," he said. "It means that the wound is beginning to heal, and that nerve functions are normal. No problems with involuntary erections?" he asked.

"No," I replied dryly. "Or even with voluntary ones."

He nodded. "The medication should eliminate any problems in that area."

It apparently did. I had obviously not attempted to stimulate myself to hardness, but like most men I was occasionally awakened at night by the need to urinate and the subsequent 'woody' that it caused. I had been aroused from slumber several times in the last week by a need to take a leak - but there had been no sign whatsoever of the usual accompanying hard-on. The innocuous little tablets that I was required to take twice daily seemed to doing their job. Angela had noted that the pills were, in fact, being distributed by the pharmaceutical company she worked for.

The consultation with Mr. Rogers came to an end, and I was to return next week to have the stitches removed. I was encased in a lot less bandaging now - just a light layer that mainly served to keep my underwear from chaffing against the stitches.

Angela had returned to work on Monday, and today I had driven myself to my appointment with Mr. Rogers. I grabbed a meal at our local takeaway shop on the way home, and as I sat munching my fish and chips I took stock of recent events.

I was currently on paid leave with the company I worked for, and they had begun to make pleasing overtures about compensation for my injury. The overtures had become more pleasing still after I had idly told the squeaky-voiced company spokesman that I would discuss their offer with my legal counsel. I was further cheered after checking my bank account; the six-month stint working abroad had added a considerable sum to the balance - enough, in fact, to finalise the loan on the house. Very soon Angela and I would own the place - lock, stock and barrel. The thought made me smile.

Angela and I had bought the place just after we were married. It was a two storey, four bedroom cedar-clad, located in a leafy bayside suburb. We wanted a fairly large house because we planned on starting a family in two or three years. Angela had sold the house that she and Carl had been paying off, and my ex-wife had bought out my stake in the home that we had shared. This luckily meant that between us, Angela and I had a very sizable deposit for our own home, and we'd needed only a modest home loan.

A massive garage had originally taken up much of the ground floor of the house. Soon after we had bought it, Angela had suggested that we partition off the rear section of the garage so that she could have a dedicated area for her gym equipment. I thought it was a great idea, as we had no need for such a cavernous garage anyway, and it would immediately add value to the property. I had done the renovations myself, and the new partitioned section was actually so large that we ended up splitting it into two rooms - a dedicated gym for her Angela's treadmill, exercise bike, bench press, and various other instruments of self-inflicted torture, and a smaller room that we now used as a guestroom/study.

The home loan was our only remaining debt, and I was looking forward to strolling into the bank and paying it out in full. With the exception of my unfortunate accident, things were falling into place very nicely.

For the remainder of the day I watched some TV and did what little housework that needed doing. As evening approached I prepared dinner for Angela and myself. When she arrived home she anxiously asked about my visit to the specialist. I told her that all was as well as could be expected, and that he was happy with progress. She expressed relief, and smiled warmly and kissed me.

Her kiss sent a sharp pang of desire through me. While the pills I was taking to prevent erections did their job effectively, they certainly didn't stop the underlying sexual hunger. During the first week after my accident, my ardor had naturally been dampened. But as I started mending, my libido gradually began asserting its presence. It had been two weeks now since I had last climaxed, and I found that I was eyeing Angela a little more lustfully each day.

I came to think of it as a 'buzz' - a constant sexual tension, both physical and psychological, that never really ceased - it simply varied in intensity. One thing was certain; it grew a little more each day. I was startled to discover that my gaze would linger a little longer than usual if I saw a good-looking lady walking down the street, or if I happened to see an alluring woman on TV. It had been many years since I had not climaxed for such a long period, and the consequences were beginning to show. In essence, I had the same burning desire for sex - especially after being away from Angela for so long - but I now lacked the means to do so. I was starting to learn what the term 'sexual frustration' really meant.

Angela, always an intuitive lady, seemed to be mindful of my growing internal battle with my own libido, and she subtly tried to avoid arousing me. She would normally sleep naked, or with just a pair of panties on. I had often told her just how much I loved being able to feel her bare breasts against my chest, and how the simple fact that she was naked beside me always turned me on. Since I had arrived home, however, she had started wearing a light pajama set consisting of a cotton tee shirt and a matching pair of shorts. When she kissed me now, her kisses were still warm and loving, but they lacked her usual passion. She knew that a long, deep, wet kiss could make me hard - and so she refrained from doing it.

We retired to bed at about 11:00pm. I wore a pair of briefs over my bandaged member, and Angela was again wearing her pajamas. I slid my arm around her as we lay together, and a light waft of her perfume drifted over me. We began to kiss softly, and Angela responded hesitantly but warmly. I opened my lips, and when her warm, moist tongue slid into my mouth it was like a delicious electric shock.

Normally I would have begun to harden right at that point, but there was no stirring in my loins whatsoever. The buzz, however, suddenly tingled urgently like alarm bell, and an almost tangible vibration began in the pit of my stomach. I started trembling. I needed to taste her lips, her skin, her body... I needed to taste her cunt - now!

I slid my hand under her tee shirt and began to caress her breast as our kiss deepened. Her nipple instantly hardened as I rolled it softly between my forefinger and thumb. I felt her shudder softly, and she stifled a moan.

I began to lift her tee shirt, and she broke our kiss.

"Baby?" she whispered huskily. "What about your... your stitches. I don't want to make you hard."

"It's okay," I replied. "I won't get hard, hun. The pills I'm taking won't let me."

"But I can't please you," she protested softly.

"That may be true," I told her in a voice that shook slightly. "But since when does that mean that I can't please you? I want to please you, Angie. I need to please you!"

I had continued lifting her tee shirt during the exchange, and she suddenly raised her arms so that I could lift it completely off over her head. At last I gazed upon her magnificent breasts; they were as gorgeous as I had remembered them to be. I lowered my lips to her nipple, and she tilted her head back and sighed in pleasure as I sucked it. I began to kiss and lick every inch of her beautiful tits, slowly working my way down her body. My lips trailed down to her stomach, and I relished the taste of her soft, warm skin. I gently hooked my fingers under the waistband of her shorts and panties and began easing them down her long legs. Angela was now trembling softly, her right hand resting gently on back of my neck.

I slid her shorts and panties down to her ankles, and she drew her legs up so that I could remove them completely. I moved lower on the bed, maneuvering myself between her thighs. She parted her legs, and I gazed hungrily at the sight below me; she had opened before me like an exotic hothouse flower. I lowered my head down to her pubic mound and kissed it, feeling her neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling my nose and lips. Angela's hips rose upwards as my tongue slithered further down, and she lifted and parted her legs further.

"Oh, Michael," she breathed. "It's been so long... so long..."

Her scent filled my nostrils, and I extended my tongue and burrowed it gently between her pussy lips. Her juices welled up from within, and for the first time in over six months I tasted her delicious nectar. I drank greedily, savoring her, sliding my tongue deeper inside to scoop out more of her warm, creamy essence.

Angela uttered a long, almost painful moan. "Oh, Michael... Lick me... Please! It's been so, so long!"

I lifted slightly, locating her clit and softly spiraling my tongue around it. I glanced up over her mons pubis. Her pretty face was clouded with pleasure as my tongue teased and tickled her hard button. Her hooded eyes met mine, and I winked at her and then placed my lips over her clit and sucked it. Angela's whole body jolted on the bed.

"Oh, FUCK!" she gasped. "Oooh, Jesus! Do it, Baby! Please! Suck it!"

Her little button seemed to throb joyfully in my mouth, and I slid my left hand up between her thighs. Her cunt was soft and warm and slick with her juices as my index and middle fingers slid inside of her. She moaned and drew her legs back even further. The contractions of her vaginal muscles gripped my fingers tightly as I suckled her clit, my tongue rapidly swirling. She was going to cum - and soon.

I deliberately started to make slurping sounds, and added little moans of my own. This had always driven her wild, and it did so now. I felt her tense and her thighs started trembling. The fingers of her right hand slid down through my hair, and she gripped me firmly. I began to gently finger-fuck her.

"Yes! Oh, Baby, YES!" she implored. "DON'T STOP!"

I didn't stop. I sucked her clit a little harder, and flattened my tongue over it, gently rasping and sliding it against that incredible sensitive part of her. I could feel her whole body tense. I uttered another sensual moan from the back of my throat, and this pushed her over the edge. She tightened her grip on my hair, pulling my face harder onto her cunt.

"Oh, Michael... Oh, MICHAEL!... NOW!... NOW!... FUCK, YES!... I'M GONNA CUM!... AHHHHHHHH!"

Her cunt suddenly clenched tightly around my fingers like a vice, pulsing like a living heart. Her cream erupted from the depths of her pussy like lava as she climaxed, her legs twitching and jerking as orgasm flowed through her like a syrupy torrent. I released my suction on her clit, but kept my tongue gently swirling and dancing around it, maximising the waves of ecstasy rippling trough her body.

She uttered a final moan, and her whole body slumped, trembling and twitching. I very gradually slowed my spiraling tongue and eased my finger from her molten pussy. I slid my tongue down, sinking it deep inside her, feeling it stirring a molten well of her delicious juices. I briefly lifted my mouth from her.

"I want to suck you dry," I whispered huskily. "I want to drink you, to feel every drop of you sliding down my throat."

She gazed down into my face with eyes half-closed. "Then do it," she panted.

*****

Later, after I had eventually surfaced and slid back up to lay alongside her, she turned and wrapped her arms around me. She gave a satisfied stretch, like a cat awakening from a long nap.

"Enjoy that, baby?" I softly asked.

She smiled weakly. "Oh, honey, you have no idea - no idea - how good that was. It's been so long, baby. So, so, so long. And do you have any idea of how good you are at doing that?"

I grinned at her. "I ate a lot of tacos while I was away, just to keep in practice."

She giggled. "In that case, I think I'll start serving tacos here more often." Her face suddenly showed apprehension. "You're not hard or anything, are you?" she asked softly.

"No, hun. Everything's just fine." My cock had, in fact, remained disconcertingly flaccid the whole time I had eaten her.

Her smile slowly returned. "Okay, baby. I was really worried about making you hard."

"Is that why you've started wearing pajamas?"

A slightly guilty look clouded her face. "Yes. Well, it's one reason, anyway. I didn't want to excite you just in case those pills don't work. I know that it's very important that you don't get an erection right now."

"What are the other reasons," I asked.

She pondered for a few seconds. "I guess I felt it would've been insensitive and cruel of me to sleep naked beside you."

"Because we can't make love, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Baby," I replied. "Just because I can't make love to you right now or climax myself, it doesn't mean I don't want you to. In fact, it makes me want to please you even more. I need to please you."

She seemed to understand the latent message, and she nodded softly. "I guess I just didn't want to appear selfish, and I didn't know if you wanted to do anything right now. I know it must be so very difficult for you, especially after being away for so long. What happened to you is so unfair."

I smiled ruefully. "Yes - it is. But until it's all fixed, you know that I've always loved eating your pussy, and the accident hasn't affected my tongue, baby." I playfully licked my lips.

She sent me an impish grin. "So you don't mind eating a lot of tacos, then?"

I laughed. "The more, the better. You got any hot sauce to go with them?"

"You know I have," she replied cheekily. "As long as you're hungry, I'll keep serving them up, honey - with as much sauce as you can handle."

"Yum," I replied, licking my lips again.

Angela giggled again. "So I can ditch the pajamas?"

"Oh, yeah," I quickly agreed.

"Good - I hate the goddamned things!"

We spent the next fifteen minutes or so curled up together, softly talking about this and that. She had remained naked, and I took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her exquisite body. The buzz in my loins had strangely subsided slightly, as if Angela's climax had somehow soothed my own ardent yearnings. She eventually rolled over and lit a cigarette from the pack on her bedside dresser. She only ever smoked in bed after we had sex, and for some weird reason I always found it incredibly sexy when she smoked naked. This probably wouldn't have pleased the anti-smoking lobby, but they had no business interfering in my sex life, anyway.

Angela blew a thin stream of smoke out through her lips. She noticed my lustful gaze, and she turned to me and slowly smiled. "After I've had this smoke, I might go and cook something."

I blinked in sudden confusion. "Eh? Cook? Cook what?"

Her smile turned into a leer as she took another drag on her cigarette and winked at me. "Tacos."

A tingle rippled through me. "Why wait 'til you're finished smoking?" I asked softly.

Angela's leer broadened even more. She slowly drew her shapely legs up and parted them slightly, and her pussy winked invitingly out at me from the apex of her thighs.

"Good idea, honey. Come and get it, then - you don't mind if I smoke while you eat, do you?"

I sure as hell didn't, and I soon proved it to her.

********************************************************************** **************

Chapter 4


Another four weeks drifted by.

I'd had the stitches removed from my manhood at my next consultation with Mr. Rogers, and he announced that he was pleased at how everything was going. There was still an angry red scar where the incision had been, but he told me that in time this would lessen. Always the harbinger of glad tidings, he instructed to keep taking the medication that kept me flaccid so that everything would continue to heal internally.

I spent most of my time just pottering around the house, or watching TV, or playing games on the PC. Angela, of course, was working during the day and she wasn't due to take her holidays for another six weeks or so, and I found that my biggest problem was boredom - but I occupied myself as best I could whilst I was recuperating.

As the weeks had rolled past, the ever-present and frustrating sexual buzz had asserted itself more and more. The feeling reminded me of when I was a 15-year-old; I'm sure that most men can remember the time when hormones first ran rampant in their teenaged bodies, quickly transforming a usually placid and normal adolescent male into a seething, panting hulk of pent-up sexual lust. This is how I was starting to feel - I was constantly frisky, but with the medication keeping my penis limp there was no real way to gratify my libido. I was horny, but without the horn with which to do anything about it.

The only thing that I could do to slake the lust was to orally please Angela. This seemed to act as some kind of vicarious relief valve for me, and Angela was more than willing - and even eager - to indulge me. In fact, one day last week she had been working in a neighboring suburb and she had popped home unexpectedly for lunch. After I had made her a bite to eat, she had offered me something to snack on - and it definitely was not anything from the major food groups. Suffice to say that she had gone back to work that afternoon with a contented smile on her face.

Just over a couple of weeks ago we had been laying cuddled up in bed after I had pleased her. For some reason my thoughts had turned to adult toys, and I had offhandedly asked Angela why she hadn't gotten a dildo or vibrator whilst I was working abroad.

She pondered for a few seconds. "To be honest, I don't know. I never really thought about it. I haven't ever really used one, and I guess that I just didn't need it. Anytime we played on the phone or online, it was enough for me to just use my fingers, and imagine you were there."

I nodded, and she continued: "Besides - now that I think about it, it would've been almost an admission of defeat, maybe. You were only going to be gone six months, for chrissake, and I'd like to think that I could wait at least that long." She turned to look at me sharply. "Why do you ask? Would you have wanted me to use one?"

"Maybe," I answered. "It's kind of hot to imagine you using one."

I now had Angela's full attention; this was the kind of pillowtalk she relished. "Ah, really now?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "Would you like to watch me use one now?"

I nodded slowly. "I think that would be mind-blowing."

"Would you want to watch me using it on myself, or would you want to use it on me?"

I could see what she was thinking; in my permanently flaccid state, a dildo would become a surrogate for my own cock. She was both right and wrong.

"Both," I answered. "I'd love to watch you use it on yourself, but I'd also love to do it for you, as I licked you."

Angela smiled softly. "Well, like I said - I've never used one, honey. But there's always a first time for everything, isn't there?"

"You want to get one?" I asked in sudden surprise.

"Why not?" she replied. Her face narrowed in thought for a few seconds. "We have to go to Kerry's big day this Saturday, don't we?"

I nodded. Kerry was Angela's cousin, and she was getting married this weekend. The venue was nearly an hour's drive away.

"Well," Angela continued. "How about we leave early, honey? If I remember correctly, there's an adult shop opposite a pharmacy that I deal with, not far away from the church where the wedding will be. We can drop in on the way up there if you like?"

The irony of visiting an adult toy store on the way to a wedding wasn't lost on me. "Sounds good," I replied. "Maybe we can grab the blushing bride a wedding gift for her honeymoon while we're there?"

Angela laughed. "Knowing Kerry, she'd already have two of whatever we bought her," she said cattily; Kerry was not known for either her virtuous behaviour or her chaste conduct.

We did visit the adult store on the way to the wedding, and both Angela and I were stunned by some of the products on offer. We found the dildo and vibrator section - if you could call it that - and after some muted discussion between us Angela selected a largish realistic-type silicon vibrator.

On the way to the wedding, we discussed some of the more kinky and bizarre adult toys that we had seen. Angela shook her head. "You know, I'm as broadminded as the next person - but Jesus Christ, who the hell wants to go to bed with a blow-up farm animal?" We had seen rubber blow-up sheep and pigs for sale in the shop.

I shook my head. "Horses for courses." I grunted. "Or even horses for intercourses - there was a blow-up pony for sale, too."

Angela bellowed with laughter. "Oh, my God! Well, I actually feel very innocent and staid just buying a dildo, then!"

Because I was still taking medication and also to allow Angela have a few drinks, I stuck to non-alcoholic beverages during the wedding reception so that I could drive us home. Angela was still tipsy when we arrived home, and maybe friskier than usual. We both had a nightcap and shortly went to bed. Angela had already placed the dildo on her bedside dresser, and after she had undressed down to her panties she smiled softly at me as she unwrapped the box.

She eased the fake cock out of its plastic cocoon; it was just over eight inches long, and I was startled at how closely it resembled the real thing. With a sudden tingle I realised that it was considerably larger than I was when erect. Even to see Angela handling it sent a lascivious shiver up my spine.

Angela slid the two 'AA' batteries into the appropriate slot, and she then rotated the round switch on the base; the dildo responded with an eager whir. She turned it off and then looked at me.

"You want to watch me use it, honey?" she purred.

I could only nod. I realised I was panting softly as I slid to the end of the bed so I could observe her more clearly.

Angela smiled, and slowly slid her panties off. She then lay back on the bed, spreading her thighs. She held the dildo in her hand, her small palm making the large fake cock look even larger than it was.

She guided the broad head of the dildo down to her pussy lips and gently worked the fake glans between her labia. I realised that my heart rate had just skyrocketed. The soft, rubbery head flexed slightly, and then slowly slithered just inside her lips. Angela closed her eyes and drew it back out, smearing her pussy lips with her secretions. She then rolled the head and shaft of the dildo along her slit, moistening the silicon.

Angela drew her knees further back, tilting her hips upward. The thick head of the fake cock was poised just over her juicy pussy, dipping downward slightly as if it were eager to explore what lay just below. Angela opened her eyes slightly.

"Watch me, baby." she whispered.

She grasped the dildo at base, and lowered the glans back to rest between her pussy lips. She then drew it gently forward, and the shaft bowed slightly as she applied more force. My heart thumped as I first watched the thick pink head disappear inside her, soon followed by the thick silicon shaft - inch by inch. Angela uttered a syrupy moan.

"Mmm, it's so big, honey," she breathed.

She paused when there was at least a good six inches inside of her. She slowly drew it back out, and I could see the shaft glistening with her juices. Then she slid it back in, even deeper this time. My eyes were riveted to how her pussy lips seem to almost suck at the silicon shaft, moving inwards as she inserted it into her, and clinging desperately when she slid it back out, as if her cunt was reluctant for it to depart. She slid it home again and uttered a sharp moan, and I realised that almost the whole eight inches was inside her.

"Does it feel good?" I heard someone utter. I suddenly realised that it was my voice.

"Mmm, yeah, baby," Angela murmured. "It's so fucking big... it's been so long since I've had anything inside me... Jesus, it's inside me so tight, honey!"

She now began to slowly fuck herself with it, sliding it in and out in a steady carnal rhythm. Wet slurping sounds began to issue from her pussy as the large dildo began pistoning into her creamy cleft. I glanced up to see that her nipples were hardening. A rivulet of her juice suddenly trickled from the base of her slit, and it ran with almost teasing slowness down over her puckered rosette. I licked my lips.

All of a sudden I realised that if she ever did cuckold me for real, then this is how it would look - her long, sexy legs spread wide as his large, meaty cock slithered deep into her juicy pussy, pumping inside of her over and over again. His balls would be slapping wetly against her asshole, becoming coated with her secretions. Her pussy lips would cling to his cock with just as much relish as they were clinging to the silicon imitation. I stifled a gasp at the thought.

She suddenly eased her pumping motion, and she reached down with her other hand to turn the circular switch. A soft buzz emanated from the dildo, followed immediately by Angela's sudden gasp of pleasure.

"Oooh, my GOD!" Angela panted. "Fuck, that feels so good!" She quickly readjusted her grip on the very end of the dildo, and she once more began rapidly sliding it in and out of her steamy cunt. The slippery sounds of its urgent passage added to the electric whir.

I had never seen a woman use a vibrator on herself before - and now I realised what I had been missing. It was one of the most erotic, sensual and carnal things I had ever seen - so much so that almost of its own accord my hand drifted down to stroke myself. I actually located the head of my cock through my briefs before I felt the bandaging. I forced myself to stop.

Angela was now truly fucking herself. Her back arched and she began to shake and buck. Her pretty face was clouded with ecstasy as the large cock repeatedly plunged into her, over and over. Another stream of her creamy secretions rolled sensually down into the crack of her ass. She was now panting hard, moaning and shaking. She pulled the shaft upwards so that the rubber vibrated against her clit.

"Oh, Jesus FUCK!... It's so fucking BIG!... Aaaahhhh!... AAAAHHHHHH!"

I could see her climax approaching. Her legs began jerking and trembling in earnest, and I could actually see her cunt firmly squeezing the thick pink silicon shaft. She arched her back, and her beautiful face tilted upwards. The buzz of the dildo echoed the buzz in my own loins.

"Oh, Michael! It's gonna make me CREAM! OH JESUS!... YES!... YES!... NOWWWWWWW!"

She literally screamed as climax tore through her, holding the large vibrating rubber cock deep inside her as her body jolted and shook. Her pussy was clenching the silicon shaft so tightly that the tone of the vibrator actually altered with every climactic spasm of her vaginal muscles: Whirr... Wharr... Whirr... Wharr... Whirr... Wharr... She kept moaning, over and over...

I realised that I was panting almost as hard as she was. I shook, and it felt like there were a million butterflies in my stomach.

Angela finally let her body go limp. Her fingers drifted to the circular switch and the hum of the vibrator abruptly ceased. She slid the massive fake cock slowly out of her pussy, and as it exited her love tunnel it made a soft shlop! My eyes were glued to how slick and shiny it was with her cream.

She opened her eyes to slits, and she smiled groggily at me.

"Was that okay, honey?"

I was bereft of speech for several seconds. "Holy FUCK!" I finally gasped.

She smiled, and held the dildo up. She took note of how slick it was with her cum, and she giggled. "Look at alllll my cream, baby!"

I swallowed. Her smile curled further. "Why don't you lick it all off for me, honey. You don't want me to waste my cream, do you?" She held it out towards me.

Mesmerised, I came closer.

"After you lick it clean for me?" she added in a soft drawl. "Why don't you lick the rest of me clean, too. Will you do that for me, honey?"

Of course I would - and of course, I did.

Twice.

*****

hmm lets try to post the next part again... sorry

Chapter 5


Mr. Roger's round face beamed at me over his desk. I was still amazed at how rotund it was.

"Everything is coming along nicely," he told me.

I wanted to contradict him and say that everything wasn't cuming along nicely - I wasn't cuming at all. But I bit my tongue.

It was a week later, and I was again back in the consulting room.

"So how's the prognosis now?" I asked him.

"Very good indeed. You're healing extremely well, and now it's just a matter of time until you're back to your old self."

"So I can stop taking those goddamned impotence pills, then?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head dolefully. "Not yet. I want to be sure that everything is healing internally, and that nothing interferes with that. We can't risk a premature erection undoing all our good work thus far - otherwise we would have to go through this whole process again, and we don't want that," He paused and added: "I know it must be very frustrating for you." If he'd seen Angela, then he would know how frustrating it was.

I grunted. I hadn't expected any better, but it didn't hurt to ask. So - the soft-dick pills would continue.

He looked at me intently. "You haven't tried to have intercourse, or masturbated have you?"

I sent him a sour stare. "Of course not."

He nodded. "Good. Any undue stimulation or rough handling of the shaft can be detrimental as well. But without an erection, the risks are greatly reduced."

A little bell went off in my head. "Just to the shaft? My glans wasn't affected, was it?"

He nodded. "Yes, just to the shaft. That, naturally, is where the major trauma was, and thus the reason why we want to keep it as stable as possible for another few weeks. Your glans received relatively little damage."

"I see," I said thoughtfully.

"Well, since all seems to be going according to plan, I will schedule you in for two weeks time instead. Say, two-thirty in the afternoon next Monday week?"

I was glad to flee the place, and I headed home.

*****

It can be strange how just one relatively minor occurrence can lead to major changes in life, and I was shortly to experience the phenomenon first-hand.

For the last three days Angela had been of her 'time of the month', and this meant that I was unable to even orally please her during her period. As a result, my already rampant libido skyrocketed yet further into almost incandescence. My neglected balls had sometimes ached softly in the last four weeks, but in the last three days they had started to ache almost constantly. It was not truly painful - just irritating.

So when Angela and I retired to bed that night, I wasn't surprised when they began aching yet again. I prayed that Angela's period would soon be over, and I could at least deflect some of the constant sexual tension that made my nerves snap like a loose sail in a high wind by burying my tongue deep in her creamy pussy. This didn't say a lot for my sensitivity to feminine issues - but ladies, please forgive me; as you may well know, a standing dick - or in my case a sitting one - has no conscience. I was horny as hell.

I drifted off to sleep with my arm around Angela, the soft waft of her perfume leading my dreams to a place from which I would never really return. A lot of people have lucid dreams, I guess - but maybe my frustrated predicament had my subconscious working overtime.

In any event, the dream I had that night changed my life forever...

*****

I found myself involved in a poker game. The setting could have been lifted straight from Hollywood; the room was dark and smoky, and I was sat at a round table that was covered in green felt. A circular ceiling lamp dangled low over the table, and the face of the other player at the table was hidden in shadow. I was perplexed at my reason for being here, since I didn't gamble a hell of a lot. But I felt an overwhelming urgency, almost a need, to beat my adversary.

This was apparently proving to be difficult; when my luck was bad, my opponent seemed to sense my ill fortune, and he upped the ante, and I lost. When I was dealt a good hand, he eerily seemed to know this as well, and he quickly folded. I subsequently lost far more than I gained. I could feel a strange sense of desperation inside me.

I suddenly realised I was out of cash.

"I don't have any more money," I said to the shadowy figure across the table. The man was silent for so long that I wondered if he had heard me.

"What about your wife?" he finally asked in a strangely deep voice. It was the first time he had spoken a full sentence.

"You want me to bet my wife?" I asked in surprise. His answering silence simply confirmed my question.

A sudden flitter of motion to my left attracted my eye. I was startled to discover Angela sitting in a chair against the wall with her long legs crossed, serenely smoking a cigarette. I wondered if she had been here all the time. The question of how it was that she was bathed in light when the rest of the room was so dark didn't occur to me - but in dreams, things don't have to make sense.

I noted that she was wearing a red dress very similar to the one she had worn when I had first seen her in the bowling alley so long ago. But this one was a come-fuck-me dress; it was so short that it revealed not only the full sweep of her smooth thigh, but also a hint of her right buttock. The plunging neckline dipped half way to her navel, and the soft swell of her breasts lay exposed almost to her nipples. I instinctively knew that she was naked underneath the dress.

I looked at her face. She gazed back at me with what was a detached, almost aloof half-smile, as if she either had full confidence in my ability to win if I bet her in the game, or she simply didn't care. She unfolded her legs and crossed them to the opposite side. I noticed that she wore her red high-heels with a four-inch stiletto.

"How much?" I asked the shadowy figure opposite me. He slowly pushed the pile of bills that he had in front of him to the center of the table; he wanted to wager all that he had in exchange for me wagering my wife. I licked my lips.

"Okay," I said. "I'll bet my wife. Deal the cards."

As he slowly dealt the cards, I glanced back at Angela; her indifferent half-smile had widened, almost as if she was amused and even pleased at the notion of becoming the prize in a poker game.

I picked up my cards to discover that I had a high straight. I felt a glow of elation, and I looked at Angela and winked. Her smile became almost a leer. The shadowy man across the table was totally silent, and all I could see was his hand holding the back of his cards to me. He elected to take two, and I held. Since the bet was fixed - here I glanced at Angela butting her cigarette - there was no further betting.

He laid down his cards: a single pair of aces. "Let's see what you got," he said.

I laid down my hand in triumph.

"You lose," the man said.

"Lose?" I barked. "How the fuck can I lose? My straight beats your pair!"

"Take a look at your cards," he intoned.

I glanced down at my cards; the faces were blank. Plain white. Empty. I stared down in shock. As I watched, the five cards that I'd placed onto the green felt almost seemed to shrivel and wither.

"You lose," the man repeated.

"That can't be!" I yelled.

"You lose, honey," Angela interjected softly. "You shouldn't have bet me if you didn't have anything to back it up with." Her leering smile had become a lusty smirk. She rose to her feet, and I now saw that the hemline of her dress barely covered her pubic region.

I went to rise to my own feet - only to discover I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. The harder I tried to rise, the more I became immobile.

Angela walked over to the victor sitting opposite me. He slid his chair back to allow her to stand in front of him with her back to me.

"Are you going to take me now?" I heard her ask him.

"Yes. Undress yourself." he replied. His words rocked me. Undress yourself? Angela?

The ceiling lamp now started playing weird tricks; the bright cast of its light seemed to alter to keep only the face of the mysterious man in shadow. When Angela turned to face me I could clearly see her soft, drowsy smile, She slowly reached around behind her back to unzip her dress, and she slowly peeled it off; her beautiful breasts and her neatly-trimmed thatch of pubic hair leapt into view. She contemptuously tossed her dress aside, gazing back at me with a teasing smile. I sat staring in frozen disbelief as she stood naked in the harsh light of the ceiling lamp. My rivals' hands suddenly came from behind to cup her hips. He drew her backwards and pulled her down to sit on his lap.

Their faces were lost in the shadows again, but I could see that Angela had swiveled her head sharply to the right because the bottom of her golden tresses swept over her upper chest. The smack of lips suddenly echoed from the far side of the table, and it was perfectly obvious that they were kissing. His hands slid around her waist, reaching up to cup her firm breasts.

I opened my mouth to speak - whether in approval or in protest, I wasn't sure - but no sound came out in any event; I was dumbstruck. Again I tried to rise from my seat, but I couldn't move. It was like my arms and legs had become welded to the chair on which I sat. I realised that I was becoming hard - I could feel my cock slowly expanding inside my trousers.

He took each of her nipples between a thumb and forefinger, and he rolled them firmly. They instantly hardened, and I heard a smothered moan issue from my wife's lips. He tweaked and teased her nipples expertly, and her hair dipped sharply to one side. I realised he was kissing her neck - which always turned her on. Her body began to writhe almost imperceptibly.

"Do you want me to suck your cock?" I heard Angela whisper to him.

"Yes," he said in that strangely deep voice. "Get on your knees."

Angela climbed up off his lap, and he also rose to his feet. Angela's pretty face reappeared in the circle of harsh light as she sank to her knees. She reached over and undid his trousers, and she soon slid them down. His briefs followed next, and I was stunned as his cock sprang into view; it was already erect, and at least eight or nine inches long, and very thick.

Angela, in fact, drew a startled breath as she gazed at it. "What a beautiful cock," she whispered in adoration.

"Bigger than your husband's cock, isn't it?" he stated.

Angela nodded. "Lots bigger. I want to suck it."

"Then suck it," he told her. "Blow me."

I sat paralyzed as she did just that; her pouty lips parted and her head darted forward, sliding the broad purple head of his massive tool slowly into her mouth. She eased further forward, and my eyes widened as she engulfed him totally. How she could take all of him inside her mouth I didn't know - but she did. Her pert nose was buried in his pubic hair, and his balls joyfully kissed her dimpled chin.

"Mmmmmmmm..." she hummed from the back of the throat.

She pulled her head back until the glistening crown of his cock withdrew to her lips, and then she repeated the process - taking him back into her mouth and out again, over and over, getting faster and faster. Her long blonde hair swayed hypnotically back and forth, and lewd sucking and slurping noises drifted over the table. The faceless man slowly reached down and gently pushed her head back so that the underside of his glans rested on her bottom lip.

"Hold your mouth open and keep still," he commanded.

My wife obeyed him; she opened her mouth a fraction wider and gazed adoringly up at him. He then started to fuck her mouth, swinging his hips slowly back and forth, and again I watched in disbelief as his long cock slid in to the hilt. His full balls slapped against her chin. Angela's rapt gaze never left his face.

"Play with your cunt," he bluntly told her. "I want it soaking wet."

I saw her right shoulder dip slightly, and although I couldn't see under the rim of the table, I knew that Angela was again complying with his request. I could imagine her nimble fingers sliding into her moist slit, making it slick with her secretions. He continued to face-fuck my wife, and she tilted her head slightly back, allowing his cock to slide even further down her throat. A glistening stream of her saliva trickled down her lips and formed a wet inverted mound under her chin. It quickly grew under its own weight and hung for several seconds before it dribbled slowly onto her tits.

He pulled his hips back, and his cock slipped from her mouth, hovering over her face like a club. A sticky bridge of saliva hung between her lips and his cock for a second or two before it broke.

"Is your hot little cunt wet yet?" he asked her.

"Yes - my pussy is so creamy for you," my wife replied. "Are you going to fuck me now?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes. Get up onto the table, on your back."

Angela quickly rose to her feet and backed up to the table. She levered herself up on to it with her hands, and then slowly leaned back until her body was flat on the felt surface, with her buttocks slightly overhanging the opposite edge. She raised and parted her legs, and I could see the she was still wearing her red high-heels. Her inverted face was now no further than three feet from me. She tilted her head back and looked up at me.

"He's gonna fuck me, honey!" she told me huskily, following up with what appeared to be an involuntary giggle, as though she couldn't help it. Her nipples stood proudly erect, like little flagpoles.

The faceless man moved unhurriedly between her parted thighs, his countenance still clad in shadow. He firmly seized the spikes of her high-heels, one in each hand, and pushed her legs back and outwards even further. This tilted her pelvis upwards, and lifted her pussy lips into my line of sight. He then swung his hips forward, and his hard cock slithered over her cunt, almost pointing directly at me like the muzzle of a canon.

He settled until his broad swollen glans was resting just under her mons pubis. He began rocking his hips slowly back and forth, seesawing the underside of his thick shaft between her labia. I realised that it was also rubbing against my wife's clitoris, teasing her. I could feel my own cock throbbing impotently.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" he asked her.

"Mmmmm, yes!" my wife panted. "I want you to fuck me hard."

"Beg me," he told her

"Please fuck me. Please!"

"Why? Why do you want me to fuck you?"

"Because I need it!" squealed my wife. "Because I need to be fucked!"

"Doesn't your husband fuck you?"

"Not anymore! He hasn't fucked me in months!"

"So that steamy little cunt of yours hasn't had a hard cock up it recently?"

"No!" Angela rasped. "Not for ages!"

"I'll soon fix that," the man confidently chuckled, rocking his hips a little faster. The underside of his glans slithered wetly back and forth over her clit.

"Good!" Angela gasped eagerly. She wriggled her hips. "Please stop teasing me! Do it!"

"You put it in," he told her. "If you want my hard cock inside you so much, then you reach down and put it in."

My wife hastily slid her hand down to his meaty shaft. She wrapped her fingers around it, and guided the massive head downwards. I actually saw it disappear between her upturned pussy lips.

"Now fuck me!" my wife hissed to him.

I watched helplessly as he slowly thrust his hips forward, and his thick cock slid wetly into her - inch after inch after inch, until at last his huge tool was completely buried in her cunt. Angela uttered a long, grateful moan and tilted her head back toward me. I stared at her upside-down face, and her green eyes bored into mine.

"Mmmmm, he's inside me, Michael," she panted to me. "His hard cock is so deep inside me! Jesus, it feels so good! He's gonna fuck me hard, honey!"

I heard him laugh softly. He slowly began sliding his cock in and out of her pussy, almost in slow motion. "I think Michael likes watching someone fuck you," he said.

Angela grinned and looked towards his face. "I know he does. You didn't need to win me in a bet - you could've just asked him if you could fuck me. That would have made him hard!"

The man guffawed. "He's already got a hard-on." I have no idea how he knew I had an erection - but he did.

Angela smirked cattily. "That makes a fucking change! See? He can only get it up if someone else fucks me - and you're gonna fuck me hard, aren't you?"

"I sure am. Your sweet little cunt is so tight!"

Angela smiled. "It's tight because my fucking husband hasn't used it in so long!"

He laughed again. "That wouldn't matter - you'd still be tight for me anyway."

She giggled. "I'm sure I would be! Your cock is so big - and so hard! I love feeling it inside me!"

He gave a deep chuckle. "Are you sure you want my cock? Wouldn't you rather have your husbands cock inside you instead?"

"NO!" she cried sharply. "I want yours!"

"You're a horny little tart, aren't you?" he stated.

"Yes, I am! - now FUCK ME!"

He instantly obliged her, slowly speeding his rocking hips, slamming his cock deep inside her as I sat in paralyzed silence, watching every powerful thrust, watching my wife's body jolt with each firm stroke, watching her beautiful tits describe tight, wobbly circles as the rhythm of his pumping hips flowed up through hers. He was still holding the spiked heels of her shoes, using them almost like a pair of convenient handles with which to keep my wife's legs widely parted.

Angela's moans soon took on a far more urgent and ardent tone. Her body tensed as the carnal slap of their flesh became more and more intense. With her legs drawn so sharply back, I could see her pussy lips clinging to his cock as it slid in and out, slick and shiny with her juices.

"I'm gonna cum any second!" he grunted.

"Cum inside me," my wife implored loudly. "Shove it right in and shoot it deep inside me! Cream me!"

He uttered several shuddering moans, and his hips suddenly plunged forward and drove his cock inside her to the hilt. I knew at that very moment his semen was beginning to erupt deep inside my wife's hot, creamy pussy.

"Oh, yeah!" he moaned loudly. "I'm cuming!"

Angela arched her back under him, and yelled: "I'm cuming too! Cuming! CUMING!"

*****

"Cuming."

The voice caused my eyes to snap open. There was only darkness, and I was softly gasping. I could feel myself trembling. Disorientation took me for a few seconds.

I inhaled the familiar aromas of our bedroom. A dream, I realised. A goddamned dream!

I felt Angela in bed beside me; I was pressed snugly against her naked back, and she was stirring from slumber.

"Michael?" she murmured groggily. "Are you okay? I heard you cry out, baby."

I heard her reach up and tap the touch lamp on. I squinted in the sudden brightness.

"I'm okay, hun," I replied. "Just a dream."

She slowly began to roll over to face me when a look of sudden confusion passed over her face.

"What the hell...?" she muttered. She reached behind her back, sliding her right hand down to her panties.

At the same time, I became aware of a dampness on my briefs. I darted a hand down to my groin; my briefs were drenched, and from the smooth, sticky consistency I knew that it was semen. The dream had caused me to ejaculate - a lot.

Angela drew her hand from behind her back, rubbing her fingers together and staring at them intently. She, too, realised that the fluid was semen.

"A wet dream?" she softly asked me.

I sighed in embarrassment. "Apparently so," I replied. My groin had been pressed tightly against her backside as I dreamed, and some of the watery pre-cum and semen must have soaked through my underwear and onto her panties.

I arose and went to the bathroom to clean up the mess, still stunned by what had occurred. I returned to the bedroom and slid a fresh pair of briefs on.

"Is everything okay, baby?" Angela asked as I slid back into bed. I knew what she was referring to; she was worried about if I had hurt or damaged the healing incision in my penis.

"Yeah, it's okay, baby," I told her sullenly. "I had a look in the bathroom. Everything's fine."

"You didn't get hard at all, did you?" she asked.

"No, hun," I replied. "Those fucking pills are still working. I wasn't hard at all."

"What did you dream about?" she inquired.

"I can't remember," I replied - a little too quickly. Even to me it sounded lame, and I inwardly cringed.

"Don't lie to me, Michael," she said quietly. "Whatever you dreamed about made you so aroused that you were able to have a wet dream - even though you weren't hard. I want to know what the dream was. It's important to me."

I closed my eyes. "Can I tell you tomorrow?"

"No - by the morning you will have forgotten most of it. Tell me now."

I doubted I would forget that dream in a hurry. I sighed again - I was cornered. I acceded to her request, and I recounted the dream in soft, halting detail, omitting nothing. Angela lay beside me and listened intently. When I had finished my account, she smiled softly and kissed me.

"Thank you, honey," she said. "Okay - well, firstly, I'm not surprised that you had a wet dream; it's been six weeks since you last ejaculated, and it was bound to happen sooner or later, honey. So don't be embarrassed about it, okay?"

I smiled wanly and nodded.

"Secondly, I'm very aware that the notion of me screwing another man has a huge impact on you, and that it's probably your biggest turn-on. As I've always told you, I'm more than fine with that fantasy, honey, and I can certainly understand it. Jesus, I use it on you myself, so don't be shy about telling me any dreams or thoughts that you have about it, no matter how kinky or extreme they are, okay?"

I nodded again.

"Thirdly? I'll play amateur psychiatrist, and say that I can see that there's a lot of things in that dream that reflect the current situation - for example, I'm guessing that the cards going inexplicably blank and wilting is perhaps symbolic of how the medication is keeping you soft. The same with you not being able to move or speak as you watched me. That dream just blended your inability to have a hard-on with your cuckold fantasy - very intensely."

"You're probably right," I said quietly.

"I'd really like to talk about a lot of the other things that you mentioned, but not right now - it's too late and I'm in a coma and can't think straight, honey. Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

"Sure, baby" I replied.

She gave me an inquiring look. "Did you actually climax?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. Being asleep, it was kinda hard to tell. But I think I did." In fact, I did feel a warm post-climax glow in my loins.

Angela cocked her head to one side. "Really? That's interesting. Very interesting. We just might have to have a chat about that, too. But let's get some shut-eye, huh? I have an early start tomorrow, honey."

I nodded, and she touched the metal base of the lamp and the room was plunged back into darkness. She kissed me again, and our faces remained pressed gently together on the pillows.

"I love you, baby" she whispered.

"I love you, too" I replied.

There was silence for about twenty seconds, and then she quietly asked: "Did you enjoy watching him fuck me?"

"Yes," I answered softly.

I felt a soft grin flood her face.

We drifted back off to sleep in each other's arms.

********************************************************************** ***************

Chapter 6


Angela and I didn't get a chance to talk about my lascivious dream until the evening after the next. We'd had visitors the night after I'd had my dream, and we had gone to bed very late and very tired. The next evening we were gloriously alone. At around 10:00pm, and after we were sure we wouldn't get any more unexpected guests, Angela suggested that we take a long relaxing soak in the spa. The spa was an extravagance that I'd added to her gym room downstairs.

We gratefully climbed into the warm water. Angela had retrieved two beers from our refrigerator, and she handed me one as we sat letting the warmth of the spa soak into us.

We chatted about the usual stuff for about ten minutes, and then she sent me a long appraising stare accompanied by a soft smile. "So, honey," she began. I knew it was time for our little chat about my dream. "Did you really climax the other night?"

"I think I did," I replied. "Like I said - being asleep it was kinda hard to tell."

She nodded. "Yeah. Did you know you were actually humping me?"

That took me by surprise. "No - I wasn't aware that I was."

"That's what woke me up," she said. "You were moaning in your sleep and softly grinding yourself against my ass. I thought that there was something wrong with the cut."

I blushed slightly. "Jesus - I'm sorry, baby!"

Angela brushed my cheek gently with the back of her hand. "Don't be sorry, honey. You were asleep, and I was just worried when I heard you moaning." She took a swig of her beer. "I did some checking on the Internet the other day. It's quite possible for a man to have an orgasm even if his dick isn't hard. It's far more difficult to achieve, and the man has to be extremely aroused - but it's quite possible. So you may very well have actually climaxed as you dreamed."

I sent her a rueful grimace. "Just my luck to be asleep while it happened," I grunted.

Angela gave a soft laugh. "True enough! But think of it as a good sign, honey: everything's still working just fine, by the looks."

"Rogers told me that the head of it - my glans - was hardly damaged at all," I told her. "He said that the nerves are okay. So I guess that if I was grinding it into your backside, then there might have been enough stimulation to make me climax even though I was still soft."

"And the dream you were having obviously excited you a lot," Angela replied. Her face became thoughtful for a few seconds. "He's just worried about you having an actual erection, isn't he? Mr. Rogers, I mean."

I nodded. "Yeah. He told me that I needed to avoid any trauma to the shaft - no erections or anything else that would cause the wound to open up, or to screw things up internally."

"You mean no jerking or pulling it?"

I shrugged. "So he said."

"But your glans is essentially fine now? That part's okay, isn't it?"

I nodded again, wondering what she was driving at. "I guess so. If I was able to cum in my sleep the other night, and everything's still okay, then it seems to be."

Angela took another swig of her beer and glanced thoughtfully at me for a few seconds. "Why don't we see, honey?"

"Huh?" I grunted.

Angela flashed me a smile. "Why don't we try to reproduce what happened during your dream, and see if we can make you climax again?"

I looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, are you sure that you can't get a hard-on? I mean, are you sure that no matter what you do, you can't get an erection because you're taking those pills?"

I gave a perplexed nod. "I haven't even come close to being hard since it happened - no matter how aroused I am, as you probably know, hun." I had, in fact, attempted on several occasions to see if I could at least start to harden in response to stimulation, just to see it I could. But no matter how much I tried, I remained flaccid and limp. The evil little pills were certainly doing their job.

"So," Angela added. "What about if I was to softly caress and stroke just your glans - no jerking or pulling the shaft. I wonder if that'd be enough to make you climax, honey - especially if I was to tease you a little as I did it."

A little electric jolt passed through me. The thought of her caressing me after so long without any such contact made me tingle. The ever-present carnal buzz inside me quickly went into high gear.

"In fact," Angela continued with a suggestive smile. "As I did it, we could play a little game of Questions and Answers. Then we'd really be able to explore your kinky little dream, wouldn't we, hmm?"

I nodded eagerly. Questions and Answers was a lascivious little word game that Angela and I played every now and again - a little like Truth or Dare, except that there were no dares involved. The rules were simple: One of us asked the other a question, and the other had to answer truthfully, usually with a simple yes or no - although often the questions needed a more open answer. It was almost like a gentle sexual interrogation. Angela loved to play this game in order to explore the darker side of our desires and fantasies. It was one of her favorite post-coital ploys that she used during pillowtalk, and to be honest I loved to play it because it always led to some extremely hot and erotic conversation.

"I'd love to try that," I replied quietly.

Angela's smile widened. "When we talk about your dream, I'm gonna ask you some very kinky questions about it, okay? You promise to answer me truthfully?"

I nodded again. One of the unspoken rules of the game was that nothing was taboo, and that practically any question was allowed, and it had to be answered honestly. "Do you want to do it now?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "It's too awkward in the tub. We'll wait until we're done in here, hun, and then we'll go and have a nice, long chat about it in the lounge."

"Okay - I'm ready when you are!" I said in what was only half mock-enthusiasm.

My wife giggled. "You've waited six weeks, lover! I'm sure you can hold on for another few minutes!"

Angela craftily changed the subject right then, and we lazed in the spa for another ten minutes or so, talking about this and that. Because it was already late in the evening, we both just put on our dressing gowns rather than getting completely re-dressed. We headed upstairs into the lounge-room and made ourselves comfortable on the couch. The wicked little buzz in my loins was practically screaming. Angela could sense my eager anticipation.

"Ready to play the game, lover?" she asked me. I nodded hungrily.

She grinned. "Untie your dressing gown, honey."

I loosened the cloth strap around my waist, and Angela reached across to peel the gown open; my pubic region became exposed to her gaze. She rose from the couch and sank to her knees in front of me, placing her hands on my knees and parting them.

She looked up at me. "You're sure that you won't get hard, baby

"I'm sure, hun," I replied.

"If you even harden a little, I'll stop, okay? Slide down a bit, honey."

I pushed my hips down and outward, so that I was almost slumped with my backside was just hanging off the cushion. Excitement fluttered through me.

“That’s it,” Angela told me. “Now I can get to you properly…”

She moved between my knees and reached down with her left hand to gently lift my cock. I uttered a soft gasp; although she had occasionally changed my bandages for me when I'd still had the sutures in, she had obviously not touched or caressed me in a sexual manner. This was the first time that she had actually fondled me in over seven months. As she held my penis upright in her left hand, she extended the forefinger of her right hand and placed it on the incredibly sensitive spot just under my glans. She began to softly massage the tip of her finger underneath me, making rapid little circles. Little sparks went off in my loins.

Angela looked up at me. "Feel good, baby?"

"Jesus, yeah!" I softly gasped. Normally I would have begun to get hard long before this, and with the delicious waves that her swirling fingertip was sending through me, I should have hardened instantly. But my cock stayed disconcertingly limp. For some weird reason, I was surprised to find that this in itself was a turn-on.

"Good," my wife replied softly. "Let's start the game, honey."

*****

When I came back down to earth, Angela was still softly sucking me. I was literally gasping for breath, and my whole body shook and trembled. She gazed up at me, her eyes alight. She let my cock slide gently from her lips.

"Mmmm, you taste so yummy, lover," she whispered softly. "Was that good, baby?"

I went to answer her, but I could only utter a croak. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Never so good," I squeaked.

"Did you cum hard, baby?"

I nodded. "It was the most powerful orgasm I've ever had!" I whispered truthfully.

Angela's face lit up with a smile. "Mmm, good, baby! I know it's been so long since it's happened."

She rose up from her knees and leaned in to embrace me, kissing me softly but very deeply; I could taste myself on her lips. I was still panting and trembling, and Angela slid back onto the couch beside me. She sat beside me for a few minutes as I slowly caught my breath, and she then arose and got us a drink from the kitchen.

We spent the next half-hour softly talking about what had just occurred, and about the dream in general. Angela was typically inquisitive, wanting to know how it felt as she had fondled and caressed me to climax, and which of her questions had excited me the most. I held nothing back - I was still floating in the soft haze of afterglow, and it was easy to be candid.

"So, baby?" she finally said. "The thought of me screwing another guy while you're taking the medication to keep you limp is really making you that hot?"

I waited a few seconds before answering her. "Yes - it is," I finally told her softly.

She nodded and gave me a tender smile. "I think that was the part that excited you most - you really began shaking as soon as I mentioned that bit, and your balls tightened, as well."

"Well, I have no idea why it turns me on so much - but it does," I told her.

"One thing surprised me," she announced, "And that’s how much you enjoyed me being so bitchy."

I blushed slightly. "I guess it's all to do with the tease, maybe," I replied. "And in a lotta ways it fits in with that whole fantasy. Imagining you being like that and saying things like that is extremely erotic."

She grinned impishly. "So I see, lover. I'll make good use of that in future, too!"

I smiled. "Oh, I have no doubt that you will."

She gave me a long look, and then said: "Do you still think about me doing it for real? Sleeping with someone else, I mean?"

"All the time," I replied. "A lot more since the accident, I guess."

"So it'd really excite you if I did do it for real? Even though you're taking those damned pills to keep you soft, I mean?"

"Yes," I affirmed. "I think that because I can't have real intercourse with you right now that it's even more intense than usual."

"So what would you say if I told you that Debbie's sister is having her Hen's night next Friday, and that they’ve invited me to go. I told them that I probably couldn't make it - but I can soon change my mind. Would it drive you wild if I went, honey?"

A soft quiver of excitement danced through me. "It would drive me absolutely fucking insane," I replied softly.

My wife sent me a half-smile. "I have absolutely no doubt that it would; after seeing your reaction to some of the things I told you tonight, I am fully aware of what it would do to you."

"If you did go, I’d be wondering what you’re doing – all night," I mused in a trembling voice. "Where's she having her Hen's night?"

"At a club in town, honey," Angela told me. Her eyes suddenly sparkled. "You do know how wild and uninhibited a bunch of frisky girls can get at a Hen's night, don't you?"

I nodded. "Yes," My mouth suddenly felt dry.

"And if I do go, you know that there'll probably be a ton of horny young guys trying to hit on us too, don't you?"

"I'm sure there would be," I panted.

Angela's sexy grin widened. "And what about if some hot young guy tried picking me up at the club, lover? Would you want me to be a good girl - or a bad girl?" Angela asked in a silky voice.

An almost deliciously masochistic quiver slithered through my loins. "Are you asking me if it's okay for you to make this really happen?" I asked, my stomach fluttering.

Angela smiled sweetly. "I guess I am - yes."

My stomach suddenly did flip-flops. After playing with the idea of bringing the fantasy to life for so long, it had finally come down to this moment. A lecherous wave of desire and lust pounded through me.

"You'd really go through with it?" I asked shakily.

"Oh, yeah, honey," she replied. "I would."

"Then maybe you should do it," I heard myself tell her softly. My legs had gone shaky.

She smiled. "Maybe I should. But before I do, have you really thought it through? If I do decide to make it happen, have you thought about later on, after it's actually happened?"

I paused for a few seconds; Angela was offering to make my most lascivious and hot fantasy become real. I knew that she would never do it if it threatened our relationship in any way. I finally nodded. "Yes - I have."

"You'll be able to handle it okay?"

I nodded again and swallowed what little saliva I had left in my mouth. "It won't change how you feel for me, will it?"

"Of course not, baby!" she replied. "I would be doing it mostly because it's been a fantasy of yours for so long. I would not be doing it because I want out of our marriage. I love you Michael, and if I do decide to make it real for you, it'll be done mainly for that reason."

"I know that, baby," I told her. "I love you too, and I know what you mean."

"Well, we'll talk about it a lot more later, okay? If we do go through with it, I want to know that it's really what you want, baby."

I nodded. "Can I ask you a few questions?" I inquired.

"Fire away, honey."

"Are you still missing actual intercourse?"

"Yes - I miss it a lot." she replied, and then short-circuited me by asking: "Do you want to know if us not being able to have penetrative sex is making me hot for other men?"

I swallowed. "I guess so, yes."

She pondered for a few seconds. "It's certainly making me think about intercourse a lot more - but not necessarily with other men."

"But you have thought about doing it with someone else?"

"Honestly? Yes - I have." She gave me a long, almost abashed look. "Not very often I might add, but I admit I do think about it if I see a really good-looking guy." She again paused for a moment and sent me a teasing half-smile. "And after tonight, what would you say if I was to think about it a lot more? Do you think I could find myself a hot little playmate at the club next Friday?"

I swallowed sharply again. "I'm sure you could."

"Well, as I said," she replied. "We'll talk about it a bit more before Friday - just to give you time to really think it over, honey."

I nodded again. My heart was pounding.

She suddenly uttered a low chuckle. "Hmm, I just thought of a sneaky little plan..."

"What is it?" I eagerly asked.

She shook her head. "Never mind - it'll be a surprise, lover! Telling you now would spoil it - but just know that if I do go to the Hen’s night and if I do happen to hook-up with someone next Friday, then afterwards you'll be sure to know exactly what happened," She finished with a wink.

I tried to wheedle the plan from her, but Angela refused to budge - except to say that it would excite me a lot. She then gave me a sexy look, and said:

"And by the way? I finished my period yesterday, honey, as you probably guessed." Her smile turned into a leer and she lifted the hem of her dressing gown suggestively. "Fancy a nice, juicy taco, baby?" she asked.

After the little chat we'd just had, I sure as hell did! Our previous positions on the couch were reversed - this time with me doing the kneeling and her doing the moaning - and Angela's clenched fingers in my hair soon guided me to exactly where she wanted me.

As I ate her creamy cunt, my mind was torridly thinking about what Angela could get up to at the Hen's night next Friday - with a lot of justification, as it turned out.

********************************************************************** ***************

Chapter 7


"How do I look, honey?" my wife asked me.

I quickly turned my attention from the television show that I had been watching and focused my gaze on Angela as she stood framed in the lounge-room doorway. My hungry eyes slowly floated over her a couple of times, from eye-line to ankle.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," I finally told her.

And she did. It was 7:00pm on Friday night, and Angela had just finished dressing in preparation for her night out with the girls. Yes - she had decided to go to the Hen's night.

She was wearing a slinky cream-colored skirt with a hemline that hovered perhaps six or seven inches above her knees. Her torso was encased in what I can best describe as a lacy red top that resembled a glorified sports singlet; it was almost like a snug fitting corset which had been sewn onto the bottom of a bikini bra, and it hung over her shoulders on spaghetti-thin straps. The neckline wasn't overly deep but it still offered the observer a generous glimpse of cleavage, and the cup of her breasts was amply evident under the swell of the taut, sculpted material. A loose black jacket and black high heels completed the ensemble.

Angela had also outdone herself in the bathroom; she had blow-waved her long blonde tresses into soft undulating waves. She didn't need a lot of make-up at the best of times, but tonight she had enhanced her dazzling green eyes with mascara and eye-shadow, and her lips gleamed moistly with soft red lipstick. Angela had made the most of the recent late spring sunshine, and her freshly-shaven legs glowed with a modest tan.

Gazing at her, the overall effect of her alluring attire was sophisticated and classy - but absolutely sexy. Seductive was the first word that sprang to mind. She smiled at me and turned a playful pirouette, and I drank in the sight of her tight calf muscles and her curvaceous backside that resembled an inverted cartoon heart. The wicked little carnal buzz began hammering at me yet again.

"Do you like my new top, honey?" she asked when she had completed her pirouette.

"Very nice," I replied truthfully.

"I picked it up yesterday," she informed me. Her eyes flashed. "I don't need to wear a bra under it," she added, almost playfully. "It has one kinda built in to it."

I nodded and swallowed involuntarily. My wife sent me a knowing smile and strode over to where I was sitting. She sank down to perch herself on my lap. Her rich perfume enveloped me, and the warmth of her thighs pressed onto mine.

"Are you still okay with this, baby?" she asked softly, sliding her arm around my neck. "You're okay with me going to the Hen's night?"

I slowly nodded. "Yeah, hun - I'm perfectly fine with it. If I seem jumpy, it's just because..." I hesitated.

"Because you're thinking about what I might do tonight, lover?" Angela smoothly added, completing my sentence.

"Yes."

"And you're still perfectly okay with me having a little fun if I get the chance, honey?"

I nodded again. "Yes. Jesus, do you have any idea what the thought is doing to me?"

Angela's lilting smile widened. "Oh, yes, honey. I know it's been a fantasy of yours for a long time, honey - and I know what it's doing to you to think about it possibly becoming real." She paused for a second. "Especially now," she added. I knew she was referring to my inability to get an erection, and I drew a sharp, excited breath.

We had, in fact, discussed her jaunt to the Hen's night on several occasions in the last five days. Angela had wanted to be sure that I was ready for this final leap into unknown territory. She had again made it absolutely clear that if she did do anything tonight, then it was because she loved me, and because she wanted to let me experience my fantasy at the ultimate level. She had also told me that she was very pleased and gratified that I had enough faith and confidence in our love to allow her the chance to play outside of our marriage.

She did, however, also admit that the notion of her engaging in some illicit sex was extremely enticing. This admission naturally augmented my own arousal. I had excitedly asked her several more questions about how much the thought of finding a lover turned her on - but she had coyly deflected my queries, apart from teasingly telling me that it had been seven months since she'd had sexual intercourse, and that my dream had perhaps been right - she just might need it.

She now squirmed on my lap and her smile became a sexy little leer. "So will you be thinking about me while I'm out tonight, baby?"

"Oh, yeah - constantly!" I answered. My excited tone underscored my reply

"Well, just keep thinking about me until I get home, honey," Angela playfully said. "I'm sure you'll wait up for me," She winked and kissed me softly. She arose to her feet. "Well, I suppose I’d better head off."

I swallowed again and nodded, getting to my feet and following her into the kitchen. She picked up her car keys and large leather purse.

"You won't drink too much tonight, will you?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "No, baby - three standard drinks will be my limit tonight. I'm not risking my driver's licence."

She started to slide her purse into an inner pocket of her jacket. She paused thoughtfully for a few seconds before drawing it back out, sending me a playful smile.

"I also picked something else up yesterday, too," she said mischievously. She opened the purse, and lifted out a small cardboard box. My heart suddenly pounded.

"I thought I’d better get some - just in case," she playfully chirped. I glanced down at the small packet of condoms before she slid them back into her purse.

"Oh my God!" I uttered in a tight voice. The buzz clicked up about ten notches.

Angela giggled. "I though that might get your attention!" she purred. She tucked her purse into the pocket inside her jacket.

"You know that I'm going to be a fucking wreck when you get home don't you?" I whispered huskily to her. She leaned in and kissed me. Her warm, moist tongue slithered over my lips.

"I'll make sure of it, honey," she replied smoothly. "Well, I'm gonna head off, lover. If I run into any problems, I'll give you a quick call to let you know."

I nodded. My pulse was still racing.

She embraced me, and kissed me again. "I should be home at around midnight, or even a little later, okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you, Michael."

"I love you too, Angie."

Her broad grin reappeared. "Have fun tonight, lover."

"I'll try. You have fun, too," I replied tightly.

"Oh, I'll certainly try, honey!" she playfully quipped. She gave me a soft final kiss and strode to the front door. She was half way out when she turned back to face me. "Oh! By the way? If I do happen to meet a hot little playmate tonight, I'm still going to go though with that little plan I told you about the other night - so I might have a little surprise for you when I get home. See you later tonight, lover!" With a final teasing wink, she was gone. The front door shut with a thump of finality.

As I listened to her high-heels clicking down the front steps, I wondered about her last remark. I had previously tried to find out what her mysterious plan was, but she had teasingly stonewalled me. I listened as her car emitted a muffled bark, and then watched as she reversed down the driveway and drove off - giving my two fruity toots of her car horn in farewell.

I glanced around the lounge-room with my heart still pounding.

It was going to be a long, slow, tortuous night.

*****

She sent me her teasing little half-smile, and simply took my hand. She led me into the master bedroom at the front of the house. I followed on legs that shook so much that I'm surprised my knees didn't knock together.

We entered the dark bedroom and reached the side of the bed. Angela tapped one of the bedside touch lamps on, and the room was instantly bathed in soft light. She turned to me. "Why don't you get undressed, baby?" she purred.

I quickly undid my shirt and almost ripped it off. My jeans and briefs followed, and I sat down on the bed to slide them and my socks and sneakers off. Angela had simply kicked her high-heels off, and then stood watching me with that exciting half-smile as I disrobed.

"Lay back on the bed, baby," she softly instructed. I did as she asked.

Angela slowly loosened her skirt, and eased it down her sexy long legs. I stifled a gasp when I saw that she was once again sans panties. I could see her neatly trimmed pubic mound in the dim light. She was still oddly wearing her black jacket and red top, but completely naked from the waist down.

She giggled at my excited expression. "Yeah - no knickers again, honey. But when did I take them off?"

With that, she swung herself over me on the bed, straddling me. Her warm thighs clasped my hips, but she kept her pelvis raised. I glanced down to see her pussy hovering an inch above my limp cock.

"Now, honey?" she began, "Are you really sure that you meant what you said about me being able to play?"

A carnal ripple of almost staggering proportions tore through me.

"Yes!" I gasped.

"So what if I was to tell you that I did hook-up with a sexy playmate tonight?"

"OH GOD!" I moaned. "Did you?"

Angela's serene smile deepened.

"Yes."

I almost climaxed right then. My whole body shook, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. I moaned aloud and arched my back, wanting to drive my flaccid member upward towards her pussy!

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around my limp cock. She gently lifted it upright and slowly seesawed the soft head between her labia. I could instantly feel how wet and slippery she was, and I excitedly wondered if she was still moist from recent intercourse. When my glans was nestled fully between her pussy-lips, she delicately lowered her warm thighs fully onto mine; the moist, creamy heat of her cunt enveloped my cock like a slick cocoon. I whimpered softly again as she began rocking her hips gently back and forth, softly massaging my glans within her pussy.

"Feel good, honey?" she purred.

"Jesus, YES!" I wailed. "Please tell me, Angie! What happened?"

Angela smiled down at me. "Okay - right from the start. Well, his name was Jason, and he hit on me almost as soon as I walked in the door of the club, lover,"

"Did he?" I panted. My lower stomach and thighs felt tense and hot.

"Mmm, yes he did," my wife replied smoothly. "He was a real cutie, too. About six feet tall, and a really yummy body. He came up to the bar as I was getting my first drink, and he looked at me and said that he thought he'd seen me before. Maybe he had - he might've seen me when I was out making sales, or most likely it was just a bullshit pick-up line. Anyway, he offered to buy me a drink - so I let him."

I panted underneath her. Her hips seesawed, and enveloping pussy moistly clutched at my cock, sending a lascivious message through my loins.

"I had a few dances with him, in between raving and shooting the shit with the other girls at the Hen's party. He told me that I had beautiful eyes, honey. I have to tell you that I flirted with him - that was ok, wasn't it?"

"Yes!" I gasped. Her hips were continuously grinding her molten pussy against my cock.

"Oh!" Angela suddenly exclaimed. "Take a guess how old he was, lover?"

"Jesus, how old?" I asked shakily.

"Twenty-five, honey. Is that young enough for you?" Angela giggled. "Let's see - that's almost fifteen years younger than you, honey! Just like in your kinky little dream!"

All I could do was moan in reply.

"Well - to cut a long story short," Angela continued softly. "I danced with him a few more times, and most of the other girls were all doing their own thing - so I asked him if he wanted to go somewhere a little more private."

"Oh my GOD!" I blurted. "You asked him?" For some reason, the idea that my wife had initiated any subsequent encounter simply added to the wicked eroticism of what she was telling me.

Angela uttered a sexy chuckle. "Yes, I did, lover. He'd seen my wedding ring, and he asked if I was married. I told him that I was - but that it was okay, because my hubby was in Sydney right now. You don't mind if I told him a little white lie like that, do you, honey?"

"NO!" I yelled. I could feel my glans settle a touch deeper between her soft labia as her hips continually undulated and rocked.

"He told me that he was house-sitting for his uncle this month while his uncle was overseas, and we could go back there if I wanted to. Wasn't that handy, honey? That he had a nice, quiet place for us to go to when we left the club?"

"Yes!" I listened to her words with almost a sense of surrealism - as if she was talking about someone else.

"I had to be a little sneaky, honey. I didn't want Debbie and her sister and god knows who else seeing me leave with him - so I told him to meet me outside the club in fifteen minutes."

"And did you?" I quavered.

"Yes - I did. Ten minutes later I went and told Debbie that I was heading home early. Jason was waiting for me outside. He knew I had my car there, and he told me to follow him back to the house. And follow him I did. I pulled into the driveway behind him, and then we went inside."

"Did you kiss him, Angie?" I gasped shrilly

"After we got inside? Yes - I did."

I choked back another long moan.

"He made us a drink," my wife continued, "And we sat on the couch for a bit, just talking - and then we just kissed. He was a good kisser, too, lover."

I could feel a rivulet of her pussy juice trickling warmly down my balls as her pelvis continued to massage my cock inside of her enveloping cunt.

"Jesus, what happened then?" I screeched.

"He asked me if I wanted to go up to the bedroom, honey."

"Did you go?" I gargled.

"Of course I did!"

"Did you let him fuck you?" I almost screamed.

Angela looked down at me, her green eyes sparkling in the low lamplight. "And what if I did let him fuck me? Is that okay, baby?"

"YES! I want you to!" I blurted

"Then you're in luck - because he did fuck me, baby. He fucked me hard. So, lover? You're now a cuckold - for real - just like you always wanted!"

I let out a long, carnal moan! Little waves of almost perverse pleasure darted back and forth inside of me like little electric shocks. She had done it - she had really cucked me!

I saw Angela reaching into her jacket, and she brought forth her large leather purse; she snapped it open and withdrew the box of condoms. Without another word, she opened it up and pulled out a plastic strip. She smiled down at me and turned it towards me; the rubber rings lay curled snugly next to eachother under their see-through coating - except for one empty socket, where the plastic had been roughly torn open.

"See, honey? I told you that I might need them," My wife winked at me.

Another molten wave of almost masochistic pleasure danced through me. I gazed at the packet. "OH JESUS, JESUS!" I almost wailed.

My wife tossed to packet to the floor, and her eyes glittered. "Do you wanna hear what happened next, baby?"

"Jesus, yes! Please tell me!"

Angela giggled again. "Tell you? Oh, no, honey. I won't tell you..."

She reached into the inside pocket on the other side of her jacket.

"That's my little surprise, honey - my little plan worked. I won't tell you..." Here she paused for an agonising few seconds. "Instead? You'll hear what happened."

She withdrew her hand from the inside of her jacket, and she held aloft the silver micro-cassette recorder that she sometimes used at work when she wanted to take spoken notes about an order, or to record a quick memo to herself. It suddenly struck me what she had done.

She had recorded the sounds of her cuckolding Me.

I felt another wave of scintillating, almost perverse pleasure tear along my loins.

Angela flashed her teasing smile and glanced down at me. "Is that okay, baby? I turned the recorder on when I went to use his bathroom, and I just popped it back in my jacket - just before he took me up to the bedroom, lover. I hung my jacket on the handle of the wardrobe beside the bed," She winked down at me. "Do you want to hear him fucking me? I rewound it in the car to exactly the moment when he's just about to slide his cock into me. Want to listen, lover?

"OH MY GOD - YES!" I screamed. My wife's creamy pussy suddenly clenched a little tighter around my glans, and I could feel a building orgasm begin to flutter in my loins.

Angela uttered another soft giggle and placed the little recorder on the bed beside me. I turned my head to see her raise the volume up to full. She quickly slipped off her black jacket and tossed it to the floor, and she then pressed the 'Play' button on the silver recorder.

The tinny hiss of playback leapt forth. The little speaker suddenly rang with a soft feminine sigh. Angela's voice!

"He's just about to put it inside me, baby - listen." Her pelvis rocked back and forth like a happy boat in a rough swell. My limp cock nestled into her steamy cunt even deeper.

I listened, shaking and trembling, and then I heard voices.

Angela: Ahh! Oh, Jesus, yeah! Put it in!
Jason: Unggh!
Angela: Oooooh! YEAH! Oh, shit, it's so BIG!
Jason: God, you're wet!
Angela: Fuck me! Fuck me, Jason!

A thin slapping sound issued from the little speaker - the solid, sharp collision of skin against skin.

"Mmm..." the real Angela softly said. "He's starting to fuck me, honey."

The tinny slapping sped slightly, and I could hear the thin creaking of bedsprings adding to the rhythmic erotic pulse:

Angela: Arrrrgh, that's it, Jason! Give it to me!
Jason: Spread your legs a bit more... YEAH, like that! - wide open for me...

I could hear the wet smacking of lips adding to the rising tumult; they were kissing passionately as they were coupling: Smack!... Crick!... Smack!... Slurp! The bedsprings chipped in at a slightly higher tone: Squeak!... Squeak!... Squeak!... Squeak! Angela's voice rang from the recorder again:

Angela: Fuck me!... Fuck me HARD!
Jason: Christ, you're so fuckin' hot, Angie!
Angela: Am I nice and tight for you?
Jason: Yeah! - you're SO tight! Christ, you've got a gorgeous body!
Angela: Mmm, thank you! And you have such a big, hard cock!

Angela lifted her hips slightly and took my drenched cock between her fingers. She then started to slide the soft head rapidly back and forth between the lips of her pussy. The sensation literally took my breath away; I glanced up at her beautiful face, and I was stunned to see my own lust reflected in her expression. I realised that not only were her ministrations sending waves of ecstasy through me, but she was also stimulating herself by rubbing my glans against her clit.

The squeaking bedsprings on the tape got even louder and faster, and Angela's cries of passion rose to match. The slap of flesh against flesh became more resonant.

"Listen, lover," Angela huskily whispered down at me. "Can you hear him fucking me,? Can you hear his balls slapping against my ass? Can you hear him slamming his big, thick, hard cock inside me?"

"Yes!" I screeched. Angela slid my glans back and forth through her labia with even greater fervor. I could feel the orgasm which had been circling for the last few minutes building inside me. I moaned loudly again and listened to my wife cuckolding me!

Angela's glazed eyes peered down at me again. "Listen, Michael! Very soon, I'm gonna say something very bitchy, and I want you to hear it!"

I listened intently to the tape; sure enough, a few seconds later I heard Angela's encouraging moans and gasps cease as she spoke again:

Angela: Oh my GOD, Jason! It feels so good! You're so good... So BIG! You fuck me so much better than my husband!
Jason: Do I, Sexy?
Angela: Jesus, yeah! Do you like fucking my married pussy?
Jason: Fuck, yeah!
Angela: Give to me!... GIVE IT TO ME! Awww, JESUS!... it's been so long since I had a big, hard cock in me!... Please make me CUM!
Jason: I'm going to! I'll make you fuckin' cum, alright!

I tilted my head back and screamed. Hearing Angela say this to her young lover was simply the most carnal, erotic and totally lascivious thing I had ever heard! Climax suddenly jumped closer, and a delicious warmth spread up my thighs. The oily friction of Angela's creamy cunt rippled through me as she rubbed the head of my cock against her clit. I even felt a slither of pre-cum leak from me, adding to her own creamy secretions. The sheer carnality of what was happening tore a path through me.

I stared up at my wife's beautiful face. She tilted her head back and emitted a soft moan. Her gaze slid down to me again. "It's so hot to hear what he's doing to me, baby!" she gasped. "He's gonna make me cum!"

My own orgasm rippled and danced even closer as I listened to the grunts and moans and the squeaking bedsprings that issued from the recorder. Tendrils of heat worked their way into my loins as unctuous waves of ecstasy jolted through me like a million needles. Angela's pants and cries of lust pouring from the little speaker filled my mind; I listened to her, silently urging her to cum - I wanted to hear her lustful moans flood the room, to listen to her climax as she cuckolded me!

On the tape. Angela was beseeching her lover:

Angela: YEAH!... KEEP GOING, BABY!... OHHH, JASON!... I'M GONNA CUM!... PLEASE KEEP FUCKING ME!... PLEASE!
Jason: Jesus, your so fuckin' HOT!... CUM for me! Cream my fuckin' cock!
Angela! Ohhhh!... OHHHHHH!... YES!... YES!... OHHHHH, JESUS, NOW!... NOW!... I'M CUMING!... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I could feel Angela's hips shaking as she listened to herself climax. My loins went white hot as the recorded Angela wailed and moaned. I teetered on the brink, the tension in my lower body almost tightening to snapping point! On the tape, I heard a further exchange that pushed me over the edge!

Angela: Ahhhhh!
Jason! Argh, Jesus, I'm gonna blow!
Angela: DO IT! CUM FOR ME, BABY! CUM!
Jason: Oh, fuck! OH, FUCK HERE IT COMES! ARRRRRGH!

I climaxed just as Jason's own orgasmic celebration flooded the room. I could feel my semen trickling out of my soft cock like molten lead, coating Angela's creamy pussy lips and clitoris. I unleashed a moan like I had never done before as climax rippled through me, jerking my body in an uncontrollable convulsion. Angela kept sliding my glans rapidly against her clit, moaning and gasping.

She looked down at me. "Jesus, Michael! I need to cum! Please lick me! PLEASE! "

Even through my orgasmic daze, I realised I had never seen her so excited. Without hesitation I slid my hands under her thighs and cupped her ass cheeks, and pulled her up towards me. She hurriedly made her way up my body on her knees until her drenched cunt hovered over my face. She lowered her pelvis with a grateful moan, and the pussy I had licked and worshiped and adored for almost five beautiful years - the pussy that just a couple of hours ago had accommodated another man's hard, throbbing cock, making me a true cuckold, the pussy that I had just coated with my own heady release - that pussy sank wetly onto my eager mouth.

She unleashed a sharp moan as I quickly found her clit and sucked it. Angela's warm upper thighs clutched at the sides of my face as she ground her cunt firmly down onto me.

Angela moaned loudly. "OHHH, Yeah!... Suck it!... Suck it!... SUCK IT, SUCK IT, SUCK IT!"

In seconds her thighs gave a violent shudder, and she let out a long howl of ecstasy as her own orgasm pulsed though her loins. I sucked and sucked and sucked. My hands cupped her ass cheeks and pulled her erupting cunt deeper onto me.

My only thought as I began to swallow her rich cream was that after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again...