Cumming In My Wife's Best Friend Ch. 04

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I drove home, wondering what had triggered the change in Natasha's mood from the happiness which had been experienced at breakfast, to the raging anger which had been transmitted on the phone. I thought about how I could defend myself against any further accusations, but I realised that it was impossible to plan for this without knowing exactly what evidence she had to support the comments she had made.

She had certainly addressed me with more venom on the call than I could ever recall in our married life, which made me nervous that she had something incontrovertible, but I could not begin to imagine what that might be. The only thing I would be able to do was to hear what she had to say, assess how concrete the source for her accusations was, and then react accordingly.

However, as I pulled into our driveway, my stomach was churning and I felt slightly ill. I also knew that the words she had used to describe me were all true, a fact compounded and worsened by the act of cumming on my willing personal assistant's luscious breasts just minutes earlier in a brand new act of infidelity.

Natasha's car was in the driveway, and I steeled myself for what was about to come as I walked up to the front door. I contemplated shouting "Hi honey, I'm home," as I walked into the house, then smiled at my own weak attempt at gallows humour. Instead I entered in silence, and got an icy cold statement of "I am in the front room," from Natasha after I had closed the door. I walked through to see her, now feeling as if it was me who had in turn been summoned to see the headmistress.

I entered the room to see Natasha sitting at one end of our sofa, wearing a summer dress which left her arms bare. Her hair was drawn up in a bunch at the back of her head. I could tell immediately that some of the anger she had expressed on the phone had subsided, to be replaced by an exterior of frostiness.

"Sit down," she commanded me, and I complied, sitting at the other end of the sofa from her. She stared at me, and I could see that her eyes were slightly red, that she had been crying just before I got home. However, she was hiding this apparent sorrow behind a hard facade now. "Have you got anything to share with me?" she asked.

"Natasha, what is it?" I queried. "You called me here."

"I SAID," she replied, loudly. "Have you got anything you want to share with me?"

I was still not ready to spill my guts until I knew what evidence she had in support of her earlier accusations, so I repeated, "You called me here? Why?"

"Because I want to save our marriage," she stated. "Because I want you to be honest with me about what has been going on with Helen, before it's too late. So, I will ask you again, have you anything to say?"

"Haven't we already had this conversation two days ago?" I replied, trying to act hurt and confused again.

"Yes, we did, but that was before I was given the evidence that proves that not only are you a cheating no-good bastard, you are a lying no-good bastard as well." Harsh but fair, I acknowledged mentally.

At least this gave me the opening I was looking for. "What evidence?" I asked.

She contemplated the question, then sighed, and said, "I can see now what a fool I have been this week, and I am realising now that with someone who is clearly as accomplished at lying as you have been revealed to be, expecting you to tell me the truth was too much to hope for. What evidence? WHAT evidence? This evidence." She reached for the TV remote control, switching the TV on from standby, then in turn took the DVD remote and pressed play.

It took me a second to recognise what I was looking at, given the peculiar angle from which the footage had been shot, but as soon as the penny dropped my heart sank at the same time. If this was about to show what I guessed it was about to show, I thought, my marriage may well be as completely and utterly screwed as Helen had been over the course of the last 3 evenings.

The first moving image on the TV screen was of Mike's back, as he moved away from the camera which he had just surreptitiously planted on the bookshelf in the annexe bedroom. He turned back once to look at the camera, then left the room, which then lay empty as the footage continued to record. The camera, on a shelf which must have been about a foot above the level of the bed mattress, captured the angle of the bed completely.

I moved to grab for the remote, but Natasha swiftly moved it out of my reach. "Oh, don't worry... LOVER," she said sarcastically. "I have already watched it, this morning with Mike at his house, so snatching the remote from me isn't going to save your dirty little secrets from coming out. This watch is for your benefit, so you can see what I have already seen and think about how that might have made me feel while viewing it. If you want to have any hope of saving our marriage, you can sit there and squirm while we both watch this together. In fact, I think Mike and the slut are having a similar viewing at this very moment."

I was obviously well-and-truly rumbled, so I was resigned to being on the receiving end of whatever medicine Natasha now wanted me to swallow. However, she had now made reference to 'saving our marriage' on two occasions, so I took that as some encouragement at least that things were not completely beyond redemption.

On the screen, a minute passed, and then Helen entered the room, wearing a conservative unattractive dressing gown. She shut the door behind her, then Natasha and I watched as Helen quickly shrugged off the shapeless dressing gown, revealing an equally shapeless t-shirt covering plain panties underneath. This was obviously the attire she had put on for Mike's benefit.

Despite myself, I observed with fascination as she then acted to ready herself for me. First she was reaching into the cabinet in the room, producing satin gloves, black leather boots, and gauzy black panties. Then she was stripping off her dowdy clothes, and adorning herself with the arousing black outfit she had displayed to me. Then there was a quick spray of perfume, before she lay on the bed, the camera capturing her perfect body.

"Natasha, if you have already seen this, what's the point of watching it again?" I asked, a hint of panic in my voice, wondering how good the audio was going to be and desperately trying to recall what I had done and said the previous night.

"Why don't you stop asking questions, shithead, and only speak when you are answering some of my questions," she replied, for which I had no possible counter.

We then sat in silence, watching as Helen slid a hand down inside her panties, and started to touch herself. She masturbated herself slowly and teasingly, similar to the way she had done on our first night together, the main difference being that then a large part of her body had been under the sheets. Despite the situation, it was a very horny sight to see, but there was no way I was going to let Natasha see that element of my reaction.

Finally, I heard the doorbell ring in the background on the television, announcing my imminent arrival. This was a cue for Helen to stop her self-pleasuring and to compose herself in the posture with which she had greeted me, with her hair fanned out beneath her and one leg bent sexily.

"Here comes the conquering hero, for his hour of awkward sex," Natasha sneered spitefully, as on screen I entered the room, and the said hero made the first of what were now to prove to be gut-wrenching announcements, commenting on how stunning Helen looked before divesting himself of his clothes at rapid pace.

Viewing what followed over the next hour represented probably the least comfortable experience of my life. Natasha actually forwarded through some parts, but essentially she made me watch all of the torrid highlights as I fucked and sucked her best friend from all sorts of angles, and as I was sucked and fucked by Helen in return. Occasionally Natasha made some acerbic remarks such as "Yes, it looks very awkward, doesn't it, you lying shit," or, "Do you really like those tiny little tits? They are like 2 aspirins on an ironing board," or, "Cumslut? She is a fucking whore." The latter comment, or variants thereof, was uttered the most frequently, but generally we watched the whole squirm-inducing session in silence.

Despite my predicament, part of me could not help but appreciate how good the sex on the screen looked, however. Helen looked fantastic, and I had to admit that I looked fairly porn-star like and performed pretty well too. I therefore watched in grim fascination as Helen first of all worked down my body with kisses, before starting a blowjob which culminated with me cumming in her mouth. I then watched as we adopted the 69 position, and she in turn came under the assault of my willing tongue. The action went on from there to Helen squatting above me and gradually lowering herself onto my cock, with the hot fucking which followed.

The camera in fact confirmed to me what I already knew, which was that sex with Helen was as close to perfection as I had ever experienced. I was sure that Natasha would be able to see this as well, and that the knowledge could well be consuming her with jealousy and rage from within. How would I able to cope with watching Natasha indulging in top-notch sex with someone else, if the roles were reversed? Not very well at all, I surmised, and therefore I could understand Natasha's occasional barbed commentary.

What was slightly surprising to me however was just how loud Helen and my grunting and moaning was, and how animal-like it sounded. The camera had in fact recorded the audio perfectly. Indeed, this high-quality sound was disastrous, since the worst moments sitting here right now while watching with Natasha were definitely when Helen and I participated in lust-filled conversation and exclamations which betrayed our partners more emphatically than any lewd act we were committing on the screen had done.

For instance, Helen whispering to me, on the video, early in the night....

"...I spoke with Natasha earlier. She was so incredibly gullible, so trusting of the two of us, so willing to believe there is no passion or lust between us. Well, in the next couple of hours, I am not going to just help you to break your marriage vows, I am going to wipe Natasha out of your mind, am going to make you fall even more completely in lust for me..."

The exchange between us, when Helen's mouth was hovering teasingly close to my cock...

"...Do you want my hot little dirty mouth on your cock today, for the first time? ...Do you want me more than your wife now, do you lust for me above all others, including Natasha?" And my answer confirming that, yes, I did indeed lust for her more than my wife. Later, I had also gone on to tell her that her ass was better than Natasha's, and every time these comments came out on screen with Natasha next to me, it was painful.

The worst however was when Helen was squatting over me, massaging two inches of my dick inside her cunt...

"...I bet Natasha has never done this for you, has she? I bet her cunt cannot make you feel like this?"

"...No, never," I gasped on screen. "Her cunt is too loose for this..." That one earned me a specific dirty look and a disapproving curse from Natasha.

And finally, when lying in our cum-soaked embrace prior to the shower, Helen saying....

"...I don't know how I can give you up in two nights time John. I don't think I can let Natasha have you back, all to herself...." And me replying that I did not think that I wanted her to...

When finally the on-screen couple moved to the shower, Natasha forwarded through the rest of the DVD until she arrived at a scene where I left the room and the recording cut out. She then paused the DVD and turned to look at me.

"You said some horrible, cruel, terrible things last night, John," she stated, once again looking hurt. "Did you mean them?"

"No, of course not, they were stupid comments made in the heat of the moment," I responded, feeling terrible again for what I had done to Natasha for and for my betrayal of her with both deeds and words. "Yes, I have been having lustful sex with Helen, and yes, I lied about that, but please do not think for one moment that I do not love you and want you."

"And as you say, you have lied to me repeatedly too," she added, sighing wistfully. "You were very accomplished at that, skilfully deflecting my suspicions over the last couple of days, when I began to wonder whether I had made a very big mistake in agreeing to all of this." I said nothing, but looked as shamefaced as I currently felt. "I guess all of this is my fault though," Natasha continued. "I started this, I pushed you into the way of temptation, into the bed of that conniving bitch."

"I should have said no, from the outset," I replied. "I have made a terrible mistake." And this time, I genuinely meant it, wishing I could undo what I had already done with Helen, to put things back to how they had been with Natasha. And what about your cock-sucking personal assistant, do you want to 'undo' that as well, my evil inner voice challenged.

"My friendship with Helen is finished," Natasha stated. "There is no way I can trust her after this. I truly hope that she isn't pregnant, the conceited cow. However, the question is, can I trust you, and do I want to save our marriage and do you want to make sacrifices to save our marriage?"

"I want to save our marriage," I stated firmly. "I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you, to make you trust me again." An image of cum being smeared across flawless bronzed breasts rose inappropriately into my mind, undermining the comment even as I made it.

"So if you were me and you also wanted to save our marriage, John, what would you do?" Natasha asked me, expecting an answer, and I was suddenly unnerved because I sensed that there was some hidden agenda behind the question.

"Firstly, I would make me promise never to do anything like this with Helen ever again," I said, carefully. "And I give you that promise. I will not see her again."

"That is a given, otherwise I will cut your dick off myself. And what else?" she demanded.

Coming up with a second point was a lot trickier, particularly when I felt that she already knew what the answer was but wanted to see me squirm. After a few seconds of fruitless consideration, I desperately ventured, "Forgive me?"

"Well, I suppose that is a given too, eventually," she answered, "but it isn't the answer I had in mind." She stared at me for a few seconds more, then sighed and said, "Whatever you might think given your actions over the last few days, John, which have not shown me any respect at all, I am a strong person and I actually have a lot of respect for myself. But I still love you, and I love our family, and I actually concluded before I had finished watching this video for the first time today that I was not about to give up on all of that just because you have allowed that cock of yours to overwhelm your small mind for a few days."

I think she noticed the look on my face, that her comments allowed me to hope that things could return to how they were, and she immediately added, "However, I also knew immediately after watching that footage that I could never be the sort of person to just wake up one day and say 'I forgive you', after which everything would be alright."

She paused to give herself time to compose her words, then said, "If I had reacted to this act of adultery with just tears, then the sense of betrayal and jealousy would I think have eventually been too much to take. I think something like that would stay in our marriage like a poison in the blood, slowly killing off everything that is good between us, with me feeling like the victim and forever persecuting you as a result of my sense of being wronged. I know that am not the kind of person who could imagine that things could be made right just by saying 'I forgive you', following which I would be able to forget about what you had done and move on. No, I'm not that kind of person at all... however, I am the sort of person who could remove the pain of an injustice by... getting even."

"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling like I was being slow on the uptake.

"I mean that my immediate reaction to that video," she replied, "was that the only way I could save our marriage was not to forgive you but to get even with you. That way we could both put this thing behind us and move on. And that the only way to get even with you would be to do to you what you had done to me. That is, to have sex with another man who wasn't you, so you would know what it felt like for me to see you fucking another woman and cheating on me with your words and your actions."

"You mean, that for us to save our marriage," I replied, slightly aghast, "you are going to have sex with another man? Who?" The thought of her fucking someone else abruptly filled me with horror and made me feel slightly sick, and I was immediately full of the uncontrollable envy which she had no doubt been experiencing over the last few days and this morning.

She stared at me solemnly for a few seconds, then announced, "Not, GOING TO have sex, John. I have had sex with another man already, this morning, after I watched the video of you and the slut."

"What! Who?" Part of me already knew who she was referring to, but I was not able to articulate it to myself.

"With Mike, of course," she answered calmly. "We fucked this morning, in his front room, after we had watched the video Mike had captured last night. What better way to get even with our cheating spouses than to return the favour? Mike suggested it first of all, but then he and I discussed it quite rationally, before we had sex together, there and then. It was quite good, in fact. Mike made me orgasm a number of times, and is probably having this very conversation with his whore of a wife right now."

"Oh," I uttered, crestfallen. I felt sick. My loving wife, my loyal partner throughout my adult life who I was sure had never cheated on me, had just announced that she had just had partaken in revenge sex earlier that morning. The smug mighty conqueror of other men's wives had in fact been cuckolded by the cuckold, that ever-present evil rear part of my brain commented wryly. "Well, is that it, then? Does that mean you think our marriage can be saved?" My voice was weak, broken. I immediately could not stand the thought that tiny-dick Mike had stuck his cock in my wife, the arrogant little prick. How dare he? He had better not have cum in her, or I would fucking kill him. God, what if she had sucked his dick?

"Erm, not yet," she replied, and I could see the strong Natasha who I had fallen in love with years earlier shining out as she spoke, a slight upturn at the corner of her mouth no doubt emerging as she recognised the queasy envious reaction her words had caused. "Mike and I had to sit through that stomach-churning video from last night, so before you and I can really start to consider how we are going to heal our marriage and be true to each other again, you need to sit here and watch mine and Mike's video."

"What?" I almost squeaked, appalled. "You filmed it?" She nodded, then moved her hand back to the remote, signalling she was about to press play. "Natasha, please don't make me watch this."

"This isn't your time for requests," she said. "Watch this, and maybe I will be able to feel satisfied I have got even with you, and maybe we can then move on to save our marriage."

She pressed play on the remote. Helen and Mike's front room came in to view. Seconds later, Natasha and Mike appeared on screen. I watched the screen, my heart pounding, as they approached each other.

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They were stood about two feet away from each other, in touching distance, in the centre of the screen. Natasha's blonde hair was up in the same style as now, in a bunch behind her head, exposing her neck. Her summer dress similarly displayed her arms, and reached about halfway down her thighs. She had obviously taken her boots off upon arrival at their house. Natasha's expression was recognisable as one of determined resolve, and she glanced briefly at the camera as they faced each other, clearly aware of its presence.