Oscar's Cuckold Fantasy

Oscar's Story

Irene is a beautiful woman. I know that as her husband you think that I am duty bound to say this but I'm not alone in my views. Often, when she is dressed-up and we have gone out somewhere, I have seen other men looking at her; particularly her full breasts and the curve of her arse. However, I also think she looks gorgeous at other times as well. Like when she has just got out of the shower or when she comes back from her aerobics class at the gym, flushed from the rush of endorphins.

I have been very pleased to notice that she has been in a good mood these past few weeks. Recently the stress of life seemed to be getting to her. When you are working and bringing up a family it's easy to get tired and forget to find time to enjoy life. I think that part of the reason for the recent uplift in her mood is that her work is going well. The company she works for has finally listened to her and hired an assistant for her. So now, when she comes home, she is smiling and telling me what has happened and how Pierre, her new assistant, is settling in.

At first I didn't think much of this; it's only natural that she would chat with me about a new colleague. However, his name seemed to crop up more and more so I started paying more attention and asking her more about him. It turns out that Pierre is French and has only recently moved to Barcelona. Irene loves to speak French so this has been giving her an opportunity to practice. He is intelligent, tall, probably 1.9m from her description, and keeps himself fit. Apparently he is a few years younger than Irene and a smooth talker. He is also single.

The more I found out about Pierre the tighter the knot in my stomach got. Since before we were married I have fantasised about Irene fucking another man or men, even though she has resolutely shown no interest in this. However, these fantasies were about the act of sex; they were about Irene surrendering to another man, a man with cock larger than mine. They were about the experience of her being satisfied in a way I will never be able to offer her. It hadn't really occurred to me how she would get into a situation where she was with another man. It hadn't occurred to me that another man would probably have to flirt with her and seduce her. This realisation sparked pangs of jealousy that combined with the eroticism to produce an intoxicating mix. Showing interest in anyone in this way was out of character for Irene but I subtly started to suggest that I was comfortable with her talking about him.

Over the following weeks I noticed that that Irene had started to dress differently for work. Perhaps I was imagining it but I'm sure she was choosing to wear slightly tighter clothes than normal and occasionally a shorter skirt; nothing too obvious. I didn't mention this to her.

So far, Irene and Pierre had only met while at work and occasionally for the odd chat after. However, while we were having our evening meal, my wife reminded me that tomorrow was her day to go to the gym and she would therefore be back later. She also happened to drop into the conversation that Pierre had said he was interested in finding a good gym and hat she had recommended that he join her tomorrow to see whether he liked hers. At this news my stomach knotted but I played it cool and just responded with a breezy 'Okay'.

The following evening, Irene returned from the gym only a little later than I would expect. She had the usual glow of someone who has been exercising hard for the past hour but seemed a little distracted. The children were acting up so, what with that and preparing dinner, we didn't really get a chance to chat. Irene went to bed before me while I tidied up and switched out the lights. As I walked into the bedroom, she was sat up in bed with the covers over her legs. I could have sworn that her hands moved rapidly from between her legs as I opened the door. On the bed beside her were an old pair of Lycra shorts of mine, left over from a time when I used to go down the gym with her. With a mischievous smile, she picked them up and dangling them from one finger in my direction.

"Put these on."

I looked at her questioningly, "Why?"

"Just do it for me. I fancy seeing you in them."

I took the shorts from her, not quite understanding what she wanted. It was out of character for Irene to want to role-play or anything similar in the bedroom but if she wanted to try something and it resulted in us having sex, as I expected it might, I was game. I quickly shed my clothes and squeezed into the shorts, my cock already half way to being erect. Irene reached out a hand and started to trace the outline of my cock, moving it into different positions within its stretchy fabric confines. Seemingly still unhappy with its arrangement she started giving directions.

"Can you push it more down the leg", "Is that as long as you can make it?", "Are you fully hard now?"

She pulled me towards her and pealed down the top of the shorts until my cock was released. While continuing to pull the shorts further down my legs, she took my cock in her mouth and started to suck. I stepped out from the shorts and she began alternating between sucking and stroking me before I fell into bed with her and we made passionate love to each other.

As we laid curled up in each other's arms half dozing in a post-coital glow, I asked her "What got into you with the Lycra shorts?"

"Nothing, don't worry about it?", she mumbled

"I'm not worried, I just want to know what it was all about."

She giggled and said, "Okay, but promise you won't get upset."

"I won't", I said.

"Okay, well you know how Pierre came to the gym with me this evening. Well, he wore a pair of Lycra shorts and, well, I couldn't help but notice his package." she said getting all embarrassed.

My mind was suddenly tumbling with possibilities while my cock began to harden with the idea of Irene, my wife, looking at another man's cock. "and...", I prompted.

"Well I know that you have always said that you weren't very well endowed but I always thought that there can't be that much difference between them; that is until I saw Pierre..."

"and.." I prompted again.

"...and I'm sorry. I just wanted to compare you with him."

"No, don't be sorry...Well, how do I compare?"

Irene turned away from me. "He seems to be quite a bit bigger."

"There, I told you so. How big is he?"

"No, he must have had some padding or something down there because, flaccid, he looked to be bigger than you. I mean bigger than you when you are erect. But no, it can't have been padding because I could see the shape of the cock as it snaked down one leg."

"I bet it wasn't padding. He's just one of those lucky guys whose much bigger than me. Were you thinking about him as we fucked? Were you imagining what his cock would look like when turgid with blood, pulsing in front of you?"

"No, yes, no" she said embarrassed, burying her head in the pillow. "Stop it, he's a colleague."

I tried to rub my now hard cock against her to instigate a second round but it wasn't happening.

The following day, I struggled to concentrate on my work as my mind was still back in the bedroom replaying my wife's revelation. When I got home, I was hoping to find Irene still in a horny mood and up for a repeat performance. However, I couldn't have been further from the truth. In reality, I found her anxious and upset. After much coaxing, she finally told me that during the day Pierre had had a quiet word with her, letting her know that her observation of his groin hadn't gone unnoticed. He, quite rightly, had also realised that her attention to his manhood was a little more than idle curiosity and, it transpired, had used his smooth talking to get her to confess this to him.

Naturally, I was concerned that my wife was upset; however, I can't deny that the little brain in my pants was following a different train of thought. I tried reassuring her by talking through what had actually happened. By the sounds of it, Pierre wasn't acting in a threatening way but merely trying his luck by pushing her to see if she was a faithful wife or a board one looking for some fun. To this end, he had persuaded Irene to go out with him tomorrow evening to discuss this some more.

It took some doing but I eventually convinced her that this was a reasonable request and that she should go. After all, no harm could come from having a drink with him and it might put her at ease with him seeing that they will be working together.

So another day of distraction at work for me that eventually came to an end. Due to the time of their meeting, Irene came home before going out to meet Pierre. She was anxious again about the meeting but did go. As she shouted that she was leaving and scuttled out the door, I happened to notice that she had changed into a tight pair of pants and a loose shirt that was unbuttoned to reveal some of her gorgeous cleavage. Nobody would say that she was necessarily dressing sexily but it was interesting that she had made the effort to change.

The bar they were meeting at was only a short walk away and, in all honesty, I didn't expect them to be more than an hour or so, Therefore, I was beginning to get a little concerned when, almost four hours after leaving, Irene wasn't back. I was beginning to think I ought to ring her mobile when I heard her keys in the door. Irene stumbled in; it was obvious that she was a little tipsy and I also noticed that at least one more buttons on her blouse had come loose.

"You're back! I was beginning to get a little concerned about you, Darling." I said, giving her a hug. I could smell his cologne and my heart started beating a little faster. "How was it? Did you have a good chat with Pierre and sought everything out?"

"Oh, yes. We had a good chat, a very good chat." she said, grinning at me as she fumbled to remove her shoes whilst leaning on my shoulder.

"Good. What did you chat about?" I enquired.

"Oh, lots of things."

"Yes, such as what?"

"Oh, such as you."

"Me!"

"Yes, you. You and your small cock."

"My small cock! So you now think it is small? I thought you were there to talk about you looking at Pierre's cock." I replied, slightly stunned and aroused that she had been sat in a bar talking about my marital equipment.

"Yes, we were; we did. He asked if I was staring at his cock because I hadn't seen one that big before. So, when I said yes, he knew you must be smaller. He then asked how much smaller. So, I told him."

By this time, Irene had sat down at the kitchen table. "Fetch me a glass of wine would you?" There was a pause while I did this. Handing the glass to her, she took a large sip and continued. "It's so easy talking to him. He explained a lot of things to me. He confirmed what you said about cock sizes and he explained why you are so interested in me sleeping with another man. I think I understand it now."

My heart was really raising now. "Did you sleep with him?" I asked with a dry mouth.

"No", she snorted, taking another gulp of wine before giggling, "but we did kiss. Well a bit more than kiss."

I was stunned. "What, what happened?" I stammered.

"I don't know really but all this talk of cocks and sex got me excited and when he kissed me I didn't resist. Nor did I resist when he took my hand and gently placed it on his cock."

"You touched him?"

"Yes," she said now looking me straight in the eyes, "and I bet you want to know what he feels like, don't you?"

"No, yes. Yes, I do."

"I only touched him through his pants but that was enough to tell that it definitely isn't padding. It was so warm and large. He was only half erect but it felt so different, so good. I think I would need both hands if he were erect. Does it excite you to know that your wife has been stroking another man's cock?"

"No...well, yes" I confessed, slightly embarrassed. "Did he touch you?"

"Are you hoping that he did?"

"Yes."

"Then you won't be disappointed. He wanted to know how turned on was, so he slipped his hand into my knickers and ran his large fingers over my cunt before dipping one inside me. I almost came, right there in the bar."

The sexual excitement had got too much for me, an animalistic part of my brain had taken control and, while still standing in the kitchen, I had taken my cock out and was furiously wanking. Part of me felt ashamed of this response and didn't want Irene to know how I felt but the overwhelming majority desperately needed some release.

"Let me help you with that." Irene said, replacing my hands with hers. "Hmm, he's so much bigger." she muttered under her breath. Hearing these words triggered my orgasm. I came so hard that I almost blacked out and collapsed into the chair, my legs shaking. She kissed me and said she was off to bed. By the time I had cleared up the mess I had made on the floor and joined her, she was asleep.

It was Saturday the following day, which gave us more time to discuss the previous night. Irene revealed more of their conversation.

"Pierre says that we need to talk because, if we are both willing, he would like to sleep with me."

"Do you want to?" I replied, not entirely believing that we were having this conversation.

"Do you still want me to sleep with another man?" she retorted.

"Erm..yes, I think so."

"In which case then, yes I think I do too, but I have a few things I would want to make clear. Firstly, if I do this it's because you want it. Secondly, it doesn't give you the right to sleep with anyone else. And, finally, I love you and the children and don't want to loose that but if this experience is going to be as good as you think it is, this probably isn't going to be a one night thing. I'm going to want to experience it again and you won't stop me regardless of how you feel. What do you feel about that?"

"I think that makes sense and you should do it." The words just slipped so easily from my mouth.

"Very well, I will arrange a date with Pierre." and that was it. We got on with the rest of our weekend and didn't mention it again. However, unusually for us, we made love every night. I don't know about Irene but on each occasion I was acutely aware that this might be the last time I make love to her before she finds out what an above average cock feels like.

Half way though dinner on Wednesday evening, Irene just said, "I'll need you to be around to look after the children on Saturday evening."

I was about to ask her "Why?", when the penny dropped. "Oh right." I responded. "Okay". I wave of nausea passed over me. A sudden flood of doubt combined with the knowledge that it was going to happen.

I think Saturday was the longest day of my life. Irene went out shopping in the morning leaving me to entertain the children, a welcome distraction. A couple of hours before her date, Irene ran a bath and started the preparations for her date or, more accurately, preparing herself to fuck another man. I would have loved to have watched the process but she had told me to play with the children. I could hear her splashing around in the bath and then her getting out. Her hair-drier went for a long time and then the wardrobe doors before I got a waft of her favourite perfume (she's wearing that for him). About fifteen minutes before she was planning to leave, I ventured into our bedroom. She was in front of the mirror putting the final touches to her make-up.

"How do I look?" she asked glancing back at me in the mirror.

"Fantastic" I said ogling her from top to bottom. She was dressed simply but to great effect. Her shirt was tucked into her skirt pulling it taught across her breasts. The faint outline of her nipples suggested that she was begging to get aroused. The skirt was knee-length but its material billowed and flowed around her legs.

"Stockings or tights?" I asked. She tuned towards me slowly lifting the front of her skirt higher and higher. With each centimetre my cock stiffen. Eventually the tops of her stockings came into view but she kept lifting the skirt higher until it revealed her panty clad pussy. Her shopping trip earlier had obviously been for lingerie as I hadn't seen before the sheer panties she was now wearing. Their sheerness provided another surprise.

"You've shaved!" I exclaimed, my eyes fixed on my wife's labia that appeared to be pouting at me through the thin material.

"Yes, but not all of it; there's still a strip above. Pierre said he would prefer me like this. Do you mind too much?"

"No, not at all. It makes you look so...wanton."

"Well I feel it at the moment. Right, it's time I should be leaving. I don't want to be late for Pierre." With that she dropped her skirt and smoothed it down wile giving herself a final check in the mirror. She kissed me on the cheek (not wanting to spoil her make up) and headed for the door. Pausing, she turned back towards me.

"You are still sure that you want to go ahead with this? It's not too late to cancel it you know."

Dry mouthed again I told her to go ahead.

"Okay, I think it's probably best you don't wait up for me, don't you? If Pierre gives me what you want him to give me, I probably won't be back until the morning." She then left saying good-bye to the children as she went.

"Where's Mummy going?" asked our eldest.

"Erm...just out to dinner with a friend."

"When will she be back?"

"Probably not until tomorrow."

"Is she having a sleep-over with her friend?"

"Yes, something like that."

As you can imagine, I didn't sleep that night. Not just because I'm used to having my wife next to me but because her absence indicated that she was in someone else's bed. Someone who, quite possible at that moment was thrusting their 'much bigger' cock in and out of her. I must have slept a while because when I awoke the sun was up and Irene was still not back. There was now none of the wondering of the previous hours about whether they had or hadn't done the deed, by now it was over. My wife had surely had her second cock inside her.

It wasn't until mid-morning that she finally returned. Compared with how she looked when she left, Irene was now a mess. Her clothes were creased and her hair ruffled. I was concerned that our neighbours had seen her like that because it was quite obvious that she had had a hard night.

I gave her a hug and asked, in hushed tones so as not to be overheard by the children, "How was it? Did you have a good time?"

Irene smiled, raising her finger to her lips to quiet me. "Make sure the children are occupied and then come to the bedroom."

The children were watching a DVD, which I knew had some time left to run. When I got to the bedroom, Irene had brushed her teeth and was standing in the middle of the floor waiting. Once I had closed the door she hugged me and kissed me.

"Thank you, thank you, it was wonderful. The best sex of my life." she said barely able to contain her excitement. Realising the implications of what she had said, she quickly followed this with "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that. Have I hurt your feelings?"

"A little but I guessed that that would be the case. I mean that's the whole reason I wanted you to do it. I'm happy for you. Tell me all about it."

"I have something to show you first." She quickly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing her bare breasts, and threw the shirt in the corner. Then she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the ground. I was expecting this to leave her completely naked but instead she still had on her sheer blue panties. However, they were no longer the pristine fabric that she showed me before she left; they were soaked in what looked like a mixture of her wetness and his cum. The pungent aroma of sex that now filled my nostrils confirmed this. There was so much wetness there that, between her thighs, the tops of her legs were glazed with a damp sheen.