Lynn and Bobby Ch. 01

"I think she wants a handkerchief," said Bill, returning from his fantasy. I put my handkerchief in Lynn's waving hand and, after one big swallow, she wiped the overflow off of her chin and then cleaned off Bill's dick without losing a drop. When she handed my handkerchief back to me it was sticky and had the, now familiar, smell of Bill's ejaculate.

"Damn good blowjob, Bobby boy. Your wife really knows how to suck cock!"

I helped her to her feet and she looked at Bill anxiously. "Are you coming over tomorrow night?"

"I am open to an invitation from your husband," he said.

"My husband?" Lynn was puzzled, but I knew exactly what he had in mind.

"Your husband," he repeated.

"Bill," I said, "would you like to come over to our house tomorrow night for dinner?"

"Dinner? Anything else Bobby boy."

I said what he wanted to hear. "Why of course, I thought you might like to fuck my wife after dinner. Please feel free to fuck her several times if you like."

"That's a splendid idea," he said, "you know how much I enjoy that tight little pussy. See you tomorrow."

He walked off toward the parking lot. Lynn, brushing the grass from her skirt and knees looked at me quizzically. "What the hell was that all about?"

"You have just had a lesson in male dominance, my dear. If I had not invited him, he would have told you he was not coming because I didn't invite him. You would have been pissed at me because your exhausting and very persuasive oral effort would have been wasted. He had me by the balls, so I did what I had to do. He was turned on by making me invite him to my house to fuck my wife."

"Men! I'll never understand them! But sometimes they're fun to watch." She chuckled when she said it.

Lynn had discovered a way to get extra visits from Bill and she dragged me to the club regularly, looking for him. I had numerous opportunities to invite Bill to our house and Lynn was ecstatic. The next time, as we stood in the dark, a semen stained handkerchief in my hand, watching Bill walk to the parking lot, Lynn giggled and said, "I like to hear you invite him to come over and fuck me. I'm glad he's making you do that. You ask him so nice and polite." She laughed obscenely. "I love the way you say 'I thought you might like to fuck my wife after dinner.'" Mimicking my voice as she said it and laughing. "You say it like you mean it, darling. Do you say it because you love me, or do you say it because he's got you by the balls." She laughed again. It was a happy laugh.

"Well, baby, the fact is, he really does have me by the balls. But I do love you." She was joking, happy that she had found a new way to get fucked more often. But, as I thought about it, she was right. I did love her and I did do whatever I had to do to keep her at home -- to save our marriage. I had to keep her there as long as he wanted to fuck her.

Only a few days later we met Bill again at the club and ended up in the dark behind the pro-shop with Lynn on her knees. She was always eager to get the job done. No preliminaries. She just dropped to her knees, unzipped his fly, pulled that throbbing monster out of his pants and went to work on it. In minutes, she had a mouth full of semen and was waving her hand in the air for my handkerchief to wipe the overflow off of her chin after swallowing it. Then she cleaned and dried his dripping dick, put it back in his pants, and zipped up his fly. All he had to do was stand there. She was giggling when I helped her to her feet.

"Okay, baby. I've done my part, now you do yours -- and be polite."

She surprised me, but what the hell. "Bill, would you like to come to our house for dinner tomorrow night?"

She spoke up before he could answer. "Bobby, aren't you going to offer him any entertainment?" She let out a lewd chuckle.

"Oh," I said, "and I thought you might be entertained by a slice of my wife's pussy after dinner. Please enjoy several slices if you like."

"I would be delighted to come to dinner," he answered formally, "and yes it would be a pleasure to have a slice of your wife's pussy, at least three slices." The fake formality of my question and his answer caused them both to laugh so loudly I was afraid someone might hear them. He headed for the parking lot chuckling.

Lynn turned to me still laughing. "God, baby you're so funny when you ask him to fuck me. You're funny. And, I love you for it." She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big wet semen tasting kiss. Her lips and chin were sticky and had that smell I remembered from our bedroom.

Sucking him off was just a practical way to get him to come to dinner. But for me, it was humiliating, watching my wife degrade herself on her knees, then wipe his come off her chin, while that bastard looked at me and smirked. There was one thing she did that bothered me the most. After he'd pumped his load and his dick was not yet soft in her mouth, she placed her thumb at the base of that thick ten-inch erect penis, two fingers on top, then squeezed and slid her hand down the full length of his cock. She was milking him down to force the remaining semen into her mouth before she swallowed his load. I felt humiliated watching her do it.

Doing the "honors" was also degrading. He was going to fuck her anyway, but making me invite him to do it got my gut. And having to create clever wording for inviting him to fuck my wife was almost as demeaning as watching him do it. She took pleasure in watching me invite him and laughed at me with him. Then, the next night they taunted me, as they stood naked, just minutes from going into the bedroom to fuck. Laughing, as they reminded me that Bill was just fucking her because I had invited him to. The whole thing was like getting kicked in the balls, and they knew it and they laughed.

Lynn and Bill had become quit comfortable in their sexual relationship, happy, laughing and joking about their sex in front of me and kidding me about it. She taunted me and laughed with him as I reacted to their taunting with a forced smile. It was about this time that she developed the pet nickname she used for me in front of Bill. The first time she used it, she was getting up off her knees behind the pro-shop and she said, "Husband Dear, would you do the honors?" Honors being what she called my formal, polite invitation to Bill to come to our house and fuck my wife -- an invitation he formally accepted, after which they erupted in laughter.

Then, at home, she began to use the nickname to taunt me as Bill led her, naked, from the patio to the bedroom. She would say something like, "Husband Dear, would you excuse us, something's come up," pointing to Bill's erection and they would burst out laughing as they walked into the bedroom to fuck. She varied the last line as they invented phrases they thought were funny, such as "I'm going to lay down for a while," or "I have to entertain our guest," and the one I that got to me the most "Bill, has decided to accept your kind invitation to fuck your wife." These were happy times for her. She was as happy as I had ever seen her and that happiness hurt me even more than watching her fuck him. Her happy period lasted about three months during which time I waited for what I knew would be the ugly ending to this relationship. The ending Bill had predicted that first day when he had said nothing more boring than servicing a used-up bitch ... she'll be a wreck when I dump her ass.

Some nights as they walked from the patio to the bedroom, they stopped for a casual chat, resuming a conversation that had begun before he fucked her. They were quite comfortable with me, standing side by side naked. One night we were having a conversation about a club barbeque and he had his arm around her, playing idly with her breast, thumb and forefinger twirling an erect nipple. Her hand toyed casually with his testicles and his thick, flaccid penis, which minutes before had given her the explosive orgasm that I could not. Unable to control myself, I stared at his fat cock with envy. Then, I realized he was smiling down at me, reading my face like an open book. He was a bastard, but he was not stupid. He saw my helpless jealously and my pathetic envy. And it turned him on. Still, I was unable to avert my eyes or to conceal my feelings, even when I knew he was looking at me and reading my thoughts in my face.

Turned on by my helplessness and my envy, he began to get an erection and Lynn, playing with his thick cock, felt it and looked down as it grew in her hand. She had been telling me the plans for the club barbeque, but she stopped talking and began pulling him toward the bedroom by his cock, looking back over her shoulder at me and saying, "I'll tell you all about it later." She was so eager to fuck that she did not even have time for a joke about something coming up.

I went to my chair. He fucked her, but he wasn't finished with her. He was going to rest a few minutes, then he was going to fuck her again. And, she was expecting to get fucked again. I sat there with all those helpless feelings -- jealousy and envy and anger -- I was useless! She would call me after he left and tell me she loved me, but she needed to fuck him. Her body would smell of his sweat and semen and I would lie on a sheet wet from his ejaculate. I would do the cuckold's job, eating his cum out of her pussy, as she held my head in her hands and told me she loved me. I sat there, helpless, reminding myself to hold on because it would soon be over.

******

During that third month Lynn was able to get extra nights with Bill by blowing him behind the pro-shop. She quickly learned how he liked his cock sucked and became quite proficient at giving fast blowjobs, like a machine. On one occasion, as we were walking out, we nodded to some friends about to pay their check. As we were unlocking our car, our friends walked up to their car parked next to us. Lynn had sucked him off, cleaned him up, I had done the "honors," and we'd sent him on his way, all in the time it took them to pay their check. I was glad they were not close enough friends that she got a kiss her on her sticky, semen smelling cheek. Every time she sucked him off she was happy and laughing as she made me do the "honors." And, after the first couple of times, she always kissed me. I think she knew exactly what she was doing. She saw it as a joke - a "taste his semen" joke.

Then we found him less frequently at the club and Lynn was hurt and angry when he stopped coming altogether. I hoped he was losing interest in her. One episode that suggested Bill might be looking elsewhere occurred one night when Lynn and I were at our favorite restaurant down town. We saw Bill come in with the "Princess" on his arm. The Princess was a thirty-something, well endowed, flashy blonde who was the trophy wife of a wealthy petroleum engineer, thirty years older than she, who traveled to oil fields all over the world. She was ten years older than Bill. It was common knowledge that when her husband was away she "slept around." If Bill was taking her to dinner, it was a virtual certainty that he was banging her. Lynn almost jumped out of her chair. Fortunately, we were sitting where Bill didn't see us.

"Oh my God," she whispered to me, "do you think he's going out with her? Damn! That bitch. She's a whore. She fucks guys when her husband is out of town."

"Yeah," I said, "and that's hell of a lot worse than fucking a guy when her husband is in town."

She looked at me, actually puzzled for a moment by what I said. Then, figuring it out, she said, "That's different," dismissing that subject and returned to "that whore" the Princess, who by now had disappeared into the back dining room with Bill.

Looking very concerned she asked me, "Do you think he's, you know, seeing her a lot?"

"I don't know if he's seeing her a lot," I said, "but you can be absolutely sure he's banging her. I've been told she's an excellent fuck and gives good head."

Lynn looked concerned. Then she asked a very perceptive question that told me she understood Bill quite well. "Do you think she's got the fetish?"

She seemed relieved when I said, "I doubt it. I think she's just a whore." But Lynn's question indicated to me that she understood a lot more about Bill and herself than I had previously thought.

I was glad to see Bill with the Princess. It was more good news. Lynn's reaction was not anger, but fear. She knew that sooner or later Bill would dump her ass. Not being able to catch him at the club, a number of missed visits to our house without a phone call, and now the Princess, all started her emotions into a tailspin. She tried to figure out ways to keep him interested, picking my mind for ideas of things he might like. Still number one on her list was getting on top of him and doing the work so he could play with her tits. I told her again that I never saw him fuck that way in the dorm

Of course, my sex with Lynn had changed. I hadn't fucked her since Bill started to because I couldn't even "get it up" anymore. She usually wanted me to eat pussy after he fucked her. I think she saw it as proof that I still loved her and knew what she had with Bill was not love. She held me in her arms, caressed me, stroked me, said she was sorry, told me how much she loved me, and how she did not love Bill, but needed him. Our relationship during these months was interesting because, except for taunting me when she was with Bill, she was very loving and affectionate. I got the feeling that, if I could get an erection, I could get some "mercy fucks" that would give her no pleasure but would perhaps ease her conscience.

Bill no longer fucked her twice a week. He skipped a lot of nights without calling. Each time she was afraid to call him, she cried and asked me what she should do, she asked me if I would call him and ask him to come over. She went to sleep crying at night. I began to have hopes that he would soon leave her alone.

He still gave her the same explosive orgasms. He could bring her off any time he wanted to. For weeks, I had admitted openly to myself, that I envied him -- that I wanted to give my wife orgasms like that! Sometimes I fantasized about having a cock big enough to satisfy her, imagined her under me grunting like she did with Bill. It was pathetic because I knew, there was no way I could ever satisfy Lynn again! Not with her fixation on that big, rock hard cock. That cock was her image of a man, and I was no longer a man. It made me feel useless. God! I envied him!

Bill had changed. It began by him joking with me about how much Lynn enjoyed fucking him. He became increasingly crude, vulgar, and sadistic. One night he was fucking her by the hot tub and I was sitting on the patio with a drink, watching. Lynn was grunting and pumping to meet his thrusts, working hard for her orgasm when Bill looked up at me, laughed and said, "Listen to this horny bitch grunt like an animal! Your wife is a cunt, Bobby. She needs a man Bobby -- it takes a real man-sized cock to make this cunt fuck like this. Too bad your dick's too small to satisfy her." The first time he talked that way, I was stunned. Then it became routine. He began to skip the bedroom sessions and leave shortly after he fucked her on the patio.

The only clue that she was reacting to his taunting abuse was in bed when she began to explain her need for him by saying she needed a man-sized cock. "Oh God, I love you so! I can't help it! I need that man-sized cock. You don't understand." But, unfortunately, I did understand. Her idea of a real man was a large cock and her sexual need for a man could only be satisfied in that way. She did not see me as a real man. There was nothing I could do except wait. It would get better.

The last three or four visits were worse than I had ever imagined possible. There were no dinners or polite conversations. He treated her just like the redhead in our dorm. On a night when he was coming over she had to strip, put on spike heels, and meet him at the door, naked. He and I would sit at the table on the patio while she walked around naked and brought us drinks and hors d'oeuvres. He fucked her once on the patio and then left, staying only briefly to enjoy her begging him shamelessly to stay longer.

Now he was obviously enjoying taunting her more than fucking her. He even started telling me that he was "servicing her." He made her dance naked and "bump and grind" like a stripper. He taunted her while she danced. She was completely docile and obedient and took all of his abuse without complaint. He was aroused by what he was doing. Aroused by making me watch. I could see his erection, which he stroked through his pants, as he sat there laughing at her, submissive to his every demand. His sadistic behavior scared me.

"Look at her bump and grind Bobby!" Then to Lynn, "Shake your tits baby. Bump that pussy." He laughed at her and jeered her and she took it without reacting, as though she had retreated into a shell. The bastard enjoyed the pain he caused me. I could tell he was humiliating her to cause me pain. After taunting her and mocking her, he fucked her as I watched, making vulgar comments to me as she pumped eagerly for her orgasm. It was pathetic. Then she would beg him to stay -- beg shamelessly, crying, even getting on her knees, pleading for him stay longer and take her into the bedroom. He said ugly things to her as she begged, laughing, taunting her. I remembered the redhead every time he did it. Remembered her gang banging six guys to keep Bill happy. I realized with a sudden, sickening shock that he could make Lynn do the same thing if he wanted to. I couldn't take that.

******

Then one night -- it was the last night, but I didn't know it when it started - he sat and talked to me openly about what he was doing to us, and I realized just how far out this sadistic bastard was.

"Bobby boy," he said, "it's great to have you here watching. I've had my share of fun with cunts like your wife, but I've never before had the husband watch me do it. It's a new experience for me. Knowing you're watching what I'm doing to her and can't do anything about it really gives me a hard-on." He reached down and stroked a massive erection that bulged in his pants.

We were sitting at the table drinking as he talked. "Bobby boy, let me show you something." Turning to Lynn he said, "Lynn baby, get on the mat on your back and spread your legs for us. Show us your pussy. That's it, now, spread 'em wide. Wider! Atta girl!" Leaning over to me he said, "See how she behaves? Look at that cunt spread her legs! That pussy's had a lot of use the last few months. I stretched it out for you. It's big and loose now. You're gonna get it back soon and your little dick will just get lost in that big roomy pussy." He laughed. Lynn just lay there, legs spread, submissive, afraid to move.

"How much longer?" I asked him softly, helplessly, pathetically. I had almost reached my breaking point. I was trembling.

He didn't answer my question. He just smiled and said, "Bobby boy, you know what I could make her do now. Remember that red headed bitch? Remember watching her gang-bang? How many was it?"

I was shaking now. "I think it was a half dozen," I said. My mouth was dry

"A half dozen? Yeah, that's what I remember. How'd you like to see you sweet wife fuck a half dozen of my buddies? She's ready to do it you know."

Oh God, please no, I thought. Please no. He's right. She'd do it if he told her to. I bowed my head, almost in tears. I couldn't talk. I was afraid to look at him.

"Look at me Bobby boy. Look at me."

I looked up at him, trembling in fear. I had no idea what this sadistic bastard was capable of doing to us. I was trembling.

He smirked. "God this is fun! I never did this before. It's like first time pussy. You're scared. You're actually trembling! You know I can do it." He was stroking his erection, which bulged, in his pants up to his belt buckle.