Emma

What else could I say? I don't know if the bloke knew that I was her husband or not but he gave a half wave and said "Hi" as she led him through to the stairs. I should just have started watching the video again but I found that I couldn't, knowing what was happening upstairs so I put it away and went to bed very quietly. I am in the middle of constructing back to back wardrobes in the two bedrooms and a lot of the internal panels remained to be put in place so I could hear everything as if I was in the same room with them. I would still have been able to hear even if the wardrobes had been finished because they were not quiet -- in fact at times I worried that they would wake up Jason along the landing.

It was an ordeal just lying there listening to them. He made her cum a lot and when she did her screams and moans expressed more abandon than she had ever shown with me. All the time that I have known Emma, going right back to when we were at school, I had never heard a swear word pass her lips but that night I heard her say the lot. She was shouting "Fuck me, fuck me hard" and "Fill my cunt with your cum." There are two words that I have often used to express surprise but hearing my wife say "Bugger me," to another man as an order or request, tore me apart. On this and later occasions I came to realise that Emma had the foulest mouth of anybody I had ever met.

I seemed to lie there for hours. My heart was pounding so hard I was afraid that I might have a heart attack and my whole body was continually trembling. The only part of me not trembling was my prick and that stuck out stiff and rigid as a poker - I had to lie on my side because the weight of the bedclothes resting upon it was so painful. Eventually I heard them going downstairs. I was tempted to go down as well. I wanted to see their faces after all that, in particular I wanted to see if he looked at all guilty when I appeared but with my cock sticking out like that I would have looked foolish. I heard the front door close and a minute later Emma slipped into bed beside me. She snuggled up close, gave me a terrific kiss and whispered, "I love you so much." Her hand found my still stiff penis and it felt so soothing but then she straddled me and slipped it inside her. This was the first time ever that we had sex with her on top. She felt very hot and kind of squelchy and I could feel stuff running out of her twat and trickling round my balls. At the start I thought it was just her cunt juices but realised that it had got to be all the spunk that he had put into her. Emma did not actually move, just squeezed me with her insides and I started to cum straight away as if I had been saving up for weeks. She had an orgasm too with wave after wave of tremors moving down her body. I think that we both fell asleep just lying there like that.

[At this point there was a long gap on the tape as I think Mark mentally relived what he had just told. I forbore to interrupt his thoughts and eventually he continued. ]

The next day we just carried on as normal without any reference to what had happened the night before. Usually, when she had been out, Emma asked if I had any questions and I always had but this time she did not bother - I expect she realised that I must have heard everything. The evening before she was due for her next night out she gave me a kiss and said, "I've been thinking."

"What have you been thinking, my love," I asked. I don't know if it was intuition or something in her voice but I was suddenly excited and rather dithery.

"I enjoyed bringing that bloke back here last week. It was better than cold uncomfortable places or the back of a car. He gave me what he would have spent on a room if we had been able to get one so it's better financially for you. Would you mind if I brought them all back in future?"

I did not like the idea. I knew that I would be unable to face watching videos with that going on upstairs and yet I knew that lying listening again would be too painful. Also, as this week had proved there would be no need for Emma to tell me what she had done. "Only if I can watch," I said and I still don't know where the words came from because they most certainly were not planned.

Emma shook her head not liking my compromise - I think she suspected a trick. "You can't join in," she said. "I know that I won't be able to let you."

That thought had honestly not come into my head. I think that I would have felt far too humiliated to join in, particularly if the bloke's penis was very much bigger than my own. "Just to watch," I reassured her. "I'll just sit quietly and never say a thing. You won't even know that I am there."

"I am not sure if my men friends will be too keen on having a spectator."

"Then take the ones who object somewhere else, they can only come back to the house if they agree to be watched," I stipulated. There comes a point when every man has to put his foot down."

In face of my decisiveness, Emma conceded. "It's a deal," she said, stepping forward and sealing the bargain with a very loving kiss.

[Another lacuna on the tape here was where Mark fell again into silent contemplation. Rather than dwelling on what he had just told me, I think that he was ordering his mind for the critical part of the story still to come.]

During that day at work I was very tense but also excited. I was dreading the night, wondering how I was going to face it. Where is the dividing line between dread and anticipation or between pleasure and pain? I know that my wife's affairs have given me both in equal quantities and I do not know where one starts and the other begins. As soon as Jason was asleep I started watching the videos but for the first time I could not concentrate on what was happening because I was constantly listening for the door and getting up to look out of the window. I was afraid that whoever she found would refuse to be watched so I was relieved to hear her key in the door.

He was young, (early twenties), well built but without the look of a labourer. My best guess was that he could work in some kind of heath club. The fact that he was on edge showed in the way that he visibly winced on seeing me. But, being a man of some mettle, he forced a broad smile onto his face and strode across to me with his hand outstretched. "You must be Emma's husband. You're a very lucky man."

I had no particular wish to touch him (or even speak to him), but it would have been churlish to decline my hand. "Lucky?" I repeated trying to make my voice ironic.

"Yes lucky. Emma is the most beautiful woman I have met for a very long time."

I was excused from finding a reply by my wife coming up and effecting rough introductions "Mark -- Kevin, Kevin -- Mark."

"You have got a very nice house," Kevin observed looking round, for all the world as if he were here for an interview and wanted to create a good impression.

"Thank you. We are just beginning to get it how we want it. Do you live locally," I said, going along with the protocol.

"I know that you would like to swap life stories, but Kevin is rather anxious to fuck me," Emma interrupted with a smile. "I'm taking him straight up to bed. It would be nice if you could do us some drinks and bring them up. Perhaps you might have the chance for a chat with him later."

I dawdled a bit with the drinks hoping that they would have started by the time that I got upstairs but I suspect that Kevin was unhappy with the prospect of me creeping up on him because he was still fidgeting about fully dressed. In contrast, my wife was already down to her bra and pants. Without specific instructions on the drinks I had poured two shorts (with a red wine for Emma), and now he gratefully grabbed his whisky and disposed of it in one swallow. Despite the Dutch courage, the poor youth was still extremely uncomfortable and kept glancing over his shoulder at me, reluctant to start undressing. Seeing the problem, Emma stepped forward, angled him so that he could not see me, then got down in front of him and extracted his penis. Even in the flaccid state it was far bigger than mine with the excess of foreskin that she liked so much. It was an education watching her wet red mouth and tongue working on his member - the bloody thing kept growing and growing. My wife had placed a dining chair near the wall and now I sank down upon it. The chair had been situated with some thought because the dressing table mirror gave me a perfect reverse angle on the action.

Somewhere my wife had discovered the knack of giving deep throat for, despite the length of his prick she took it completely inside her mouth until his balls were banging against her chin. I was watching in an almost disinterested way as if the academic interest in how it was done had removed any relevance to me. However, when he started to cum, a knot of pain and jealousy gripped my stomach, because, although I knew it had happened before, this was the first time I had witnessed another man's semen being deposited in Emma's mouth.

At sometime, while sucking him off, Emma had managed to get rid of the two pieces of underwear because now she stood up completely naked. There was cum all round her mouth and now she looked over at me and very deliberately licked her lips. Her wine had stood untouched on the cabinet by the bed. Now she picked it and took a sip but as she reclined on the bed the glass seemed to tip and splash the wine all over her breasts. It flowed down the valley between, formed a small lake in her naval with one solitary rivulet pursuing its journey further south and disappear in the forest of hairs at her crotch. "Oh dear," she said. "Whatever are we going to do about that."

Kevin cannot be faulted for his initiative. Divesting himself of garments at speed, he leapt forward to be of assistance and ensured with his mouth that not one trace of wine remained to sully her fair skin. From that point on until he finally left, neither of them betrayed any awareness of my presence. That is not strictly true because twice I was sent downstairs to bring up fresh drinks. In fact, on that and future similar nights, the only justification for my attendance was to fetch refreshments whenever they paused long enough to require them. I came to the conclusion overall that not only was I deficient in penile size but my balls also left a lot to be desired. That was the only explanation that I could find for the speed and frequency with which other men were able to get a new erection after shooting their loads. Also, on the occasions that they chose to splatter their cum over either my wife's face or tits, I gained the impression that other men were able to secrete far more semen than myself.

Eventually, it was over and I took Kevin downstairs to let him out of the house. At the door, rather incongruously, he grasped my hand and said, "Thank you very much." "I replied, "Your pleasure," instead of , "My pleasure," but he did not seem to notice.

Back upstairs, I assumed that Emma would have returned to our own bed but she was not there. I found her where she had been, completely uncovered and lying with legs spread. "You can suck my cunt if you like," she said.

Of course I knew what that meant. I knew that beside her juices, I would be tasting what he had left up there and God it was a lot. On the other hand, this was what I wanted to do. This was the activity that left me feeling most deprived when she refused me. What the hell would you have done? I revelled in it. I revelled in the taste of her and the taste of him. I was in heaven. She kept on cumming. Cumming and moaning. I kept tasting new floods of her from her deepest recesses. And then when I fucked her and she was more passionate than I had ever known her. This was how I wanted her. My penalty was that I needed other men to get her ready for me.

In subsequent weeks there were other men, (every Wednesday and every other Friday), some I liked and some I didn't but none tried to make friends in the same way as Kevin. Some sent me apologetic glances but with others their gaze was contemptuous. I watched them do everything imaginable to my wife and I watched her do equally obscene things to them. Throughout it all, I knew that when they were gone, I would get my reward.

In the end, she brought home a man who disturbed me. He was older for a start, at least ten years older than me when all her other pick-ups had tended to be younger. The phrase 'built like a brick shit-house' applied to him and he was very hairy. He seemed to have thick black hair all over his body but on his chest it was so dense that you could not see his skin. His muscles were not the smooth aesthetic kind produced by weight lifting but the knotted variety produced by hard labour. He did not like me any more than I liked him. I have said that some of the other sent me contemptuous glances but his contempt was like a solid thing between us. I did not want him to have her, I didn't want him to even touch her but I had no choice.

Emma introduced him as Max but he did not even nod his head to acknowledge me just holding me in a cold penetrating stare as if I was something that he might have scraped off his shoe. While he was fucking her and the rest of the things he did, I started sweating. None of the others had made me sweat but now sweat was running down my face in streams. Nor did he forget that I was there, in fact he angled himself so that his eyes were constantly on me, watching me watching him. All the time he kept up a constant stream of derogatory comments, "Wimp", "Worm", "Pansy", and "No wonder she needs a real man".

When she was licking and sucking his prick I felt physically sick. Have I described his prick. It was not pretty, it wasn't nice but it was bloody big - and hard. In the reverse of the way that they produce vegetables that resemble a human phallus, his cock looked like the gnarled root of an ancient tree. With all the others, I have given the impression that I watched everything that they did to her but this is not strictly true. Perhaps I have an anal fixation. I could watch while they pushed tongues or fingers up her anus but when they fucked her ass I always closed my eyes. With Max more than ever I did not want to see but I was not allowed my oblivion because he said "Look!" and I seemed to have no will to do otherwise.

Emma was on all fours and he was kneeling behind her. There was a look of triumph in his eyes as he looked at me. "Emma tells me that she has never let you do this," he said. "I can understand that but it puzzles me why she lets a puff like you anywhere near her at all."

I tried to keep my face impassive but this hurt more than anything. For the very first time I was truly jealous. For him to know that my wife had never let me do this was the ultimate humiliation. My eyes must have been full of tears because I did not realise at first that he was beckoning to me. Like a zombie I stood and walked over to the bed. They were towards that side so just looking down, within easy touching distance, I could see her usually rosebud-like arse hole grossly distended by the bulk of his stiff rod embedded inside her. Fascinated by the sight it came as a shock to find that he had grasped my hand and was pulling it forward. Helplessly I allowed my hand to be pressed palm down against her backside with the thick shaft of his cock encompassed within the arc formed by my thumb and first finger. "Feel it. Feel what you are missing," he said. I tried to drag my hand away but he held it in place with an iron grip.

For a short while I watched him slowly sliding in and out, feeling the movement of his cock against my skin and sensing the sensations that this rectal invasion was giving to my wife. Then I made the mistake of glancing up at his face to find that he was staring intently at me. From that moment I was pinned by his hypnotic gaze and unable to pull my eyes away. He began to speed up, ramming into her hard, his pelvic bone crushing my forefinger and his balls banging against my thumb. I knew when he started to cum both by his facial expression and actually feeling his cock twitching as it pumped his stuff inside her. My wife's reaction was immediate. Beneath my fingers I could feel Emma's innards convulsed if a paroxysm of tremors and the vocal sign of her orgasm was the high pitched keening moan that issued from her throat. The extreme sensation of that moment I could have withstood had not Max tipped me over the edge with an obscene act. Opening his mouth he slowly waggled his thick coarse tongue at me. Next moment, I was cumming too, my seed spilling out to form a lake of shame inside my pants. Max was looking deep into my soul and he knew.

I staggered back to my chair and watched the subsequent proceedings through a mental blur for I was deeply troubled by the way my body had behaved. It was hard to drive it from my mind because the discomfort of the damp patch at my groin constantly reminded me. Max stopped subjecting me to verbal abuse but I was still the subject of many scathing glances. Eventually, later than usual, it was with some relief that I escorted him downstairs but at the front door he prevented me from opening it and turned to face me. When he spoke it was in a friendlier tone of voice than at any time since first arriving. "Why don't you admit that you're a fairy?" he asked.

"A fairy?" I was genuinely mystified by the remark.

"A faggot, a pufter, a queer, a bum boy."

"I am not gay," I stated categorically having finally understood his meaning.

"Come off it. In my experience, men who like to watch their wives being screwed are all gay, at least in part. They won't admit it to themselves but watching their women being ploughed is the nearest that they can get."

"You don't understand -- it's not like that at all."

"Then why did your eyes never leave my dick all night. It's obvious to me -- you wanted it for yourself."

"You're mistaken," I said almost sobbing in my desperation to prove him wrong.

"So why, when I gave you a touch, didn't you take your hand away?"

"You stopped me. You held my hand in place."

Max slowly shook his head smiling confidently. "Oh no. I held your hand there for just a moment at the start until you got the idea and then I released it to see what you would do. Sure enough, it stuck there like glue until the bitter end and I won't mention how that affected you."

Panicking I tried to pull the door open by brute force against his weight. "Calm down, I'm not going to rape you, even if that's what you really want," he said laughing but pushed a card into my hand saying, "That is my telephone number, give me a ring when you have thought about it."

I handed it back and told him that I would not need it. He stood away from the door allowing me to open it but as I expected him to step through he said," What are you going to do now? I will tell you what you will do -- you are going back upstairs to suck all of my cum out of your wife's slit."

"How do you know? Did Emma tell you?" I stammered.

"Nobody told me. It's what men like you always do. While you are at it, don't forget the load I put up the back way -- hell, you shouldn't forget - you felt the damn stuff going in." With that he was gone and I realised that I was clutching his card in my hand.

Upstairs Emma was spread out for my banquet and her legs were more than just slightly spread. "Hurry up," she urged. "You have been a long time."

The words Max had spoken were too fresh in my mind. I remained standing and shook my head. "Not tonight -- it's getting late."

"I want you to do it. I won't let you watch in future if you don't." Emma could not have thought of a better threat to bring me to heal. Part of my reticence for sex had been the fear that my disgraceful episode might have left me unable to perform but, by the time that I had finished ministering to her nether regions with my mouth, I was raring to go. An extra benefit was the fact that I was not as trigger happy as on previous occasions. I was happily fucking away, revelling in the number of orgasms that I was able to give her when Emma squeezed me to stillness and gave me a big kiss. "I know that it is against our rules but I would like to see Max again," she whispered seductively in my ear.