A Christmas (Virtual?) Cuckold

Joanie will do anything to keep her Atlanta sins secret

This story is my entry into the 2019 Winter Holidays contest. Lots of stars will be most appreciated. I'd also love comments!

Warnings: This story has elements of exhibitionism, a strong voyeuristic component, some nonconsent/reluctance, adultery, bondage, and group sex.

This story is long, and has several parts. They are: Boston, Chicago, Morning in Chicago, The Twelfth Floor of the Hotel, and finally, Home at Last.

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Boston

We really couldn't afford for Joanie not to work, but when little Hazel popped out of her and she wanted to spend quality time with our baby, I couldn't deny her. I do think it was the best possible early childhood for Hazel, to have her loving Mom around her 24/7, until Mom and Dad alone were not enough for Hazel, and she needed to be around other children.

Hazel went off to pre-school for a half day at a time, and Joanie used the free time to get back up to speed to join the work force. Joanie is a talented woman, and better still her talents are generally recognized, so it turned out that by the time Hazel was in all day kindergarten, Joanie had a really nice job.

Joanie made less than I did, but she was on a fast track for advancement. She had retained her good looks, and I had always enjoyed how sexy she was. Her legs were not special, kind of short, and maybe a just a tad too thick at the thighs, but she had a sweet, tight ass, and a great rack. Her breasts were not too big, nowhere near the gross range, but big enough to please many a man with a breast fetish, such as yours truly.

The sexiest part of Joanie, however, was her dirty mind. I have a dirty mind, I always have had one, but I have to confess I take a back seat to Joanie. Before our daughter Hazel came along, Joanie always enjoyed sex toys, every possible position (and yes, including anal), and gave the best blowjobs in the county, or at least that's what I thought. She was certainly the best I had ever had.

Christmas was a special time for Joanie. Around Christmas she let her perversions go into overdrive. I'm not really sure why, but I think it had to do with her older brother one very special Christmas. In any event, that was long ago. Once I realized this, I did my best to enjoy her to the max during the holiday season.

Before I had met Joanie, she had been sexually active, and she had been one of the girls in town who was not too hard to get into bed. In fact, the first time I laid her was in an upstairs bedroom at a party. I mean, we had known each other before, we had friends in common, and our paths had often crossed; but she was the first girl I had ever fucked before we had even gone out on a date together.

Maybe because she was so relaxed about sex, and clearly enjoyed it, she had tried everything, or so it seemed. In everything Joanie did, she learned from her experiences and eventually excelled. Sex was no exception. I always enjoyed the pillow talk about her past sexual adventures from before we had met. She also enjoyed hearing about mine.

We fell in love, and we committed to each other, and part of that was sexual exclusivity, our one acknowledgement of the traditional, conventional way of doing things. I worried at first if Joanie would be loyal just to one man (ie, to me), but she seemed fine with it. As Joanie herself explained it, it was a new stage of life, committing to the man she loved, having a baby, and becoming a family, and like everything else she did, she excelled at it.

Joanie continued to care about her appearance, and she remained pretty and sexy, even blistering hot. She still had a dirty and sexy mind, but promiscuity was a thing of the past, both for her and for me. We cut down a bit on the risky sex, however, both because we were older and more established, and because we had a baby and felt we had to be just a bit more responsible.

The thing was, however, that Joanie had to travel for her job. Some trips were day trips, but more than a few involved overnight stays, and sometimes two or more nights away from home. I took care of Hazel during her work trips, and I spent some free time wondering what Joanie was up to on those trips.

In the winter, traveling was always dicey. One never knew when a storm would ground all planes, or there'd be too much ice on the wings, or whatever. Every so often Joanie would get stranded and have to spend the night at an airport hotel, along with some other passengers.

These enforced stays would be fodder for my cuckold fantasies. One time, for example, the hotels were almost full, and Joanie ended up sharing a room with another passenger; the two women even slept in the same bed. I could just imagine the girl on girl action going on, as Joanie and the stranger made the best of a tough situation. Nothing like that happened, not even remotely, except of course in my overactive imagination.

One upcoming trip in particular, however, worried me. Joanie planned to fly to Chicago, and she would be there for four days and three nights. She had conferences and brainstorming sessions, but the primary reason for the trip was the FinTech blowout end-of-the-year party. It was really a Christmas party, complete with lots of strategically placed mistletoe, heavily spiked eggnog, and the like. To be kind to other than Christian religions, however, it was called a Winter Solstice Party, and it was always held on December 21. This year (2019) December 21 was a Saturday; how fortuitous!

What worried me about the Christmas blowout party in Chicago was that Joanie told me that Brad Jones would be at the sessions, and doubtless the party, too. I could just imagine a drunk Joanie being seduced into debauchery by her old lover and heart throb, the strange man named Brad.

Joanie had smiled when she told me that Brad would be there, and I knew she would be happy to see him again, and why not? After all, Brad and Joanie had been friends since middle school, and they stayed friends in high school and throughout college, but then Brad got a job in Silicon Valley, out in California. Joanie's old friend then morphed into a virtual friend, via Facebook, and the occasional email.

Well, it's great to see such old and long-standing friends in person from time to time, isn't it? My issue was the sexual part of their friendship. I knew, because Joanie had told me, that Brad had introduced her to sex quite early, and he had been her first lover, taking her virginity, at a seriously young age.

"Brad was the guy who seduced me into a life of ill repute," Joanie had told me, giggling nervously as she lay naked beside me one night, playing with my cock. She had smiled at the memory. I had urged her to continue, and she said, "You have no idea how much a middle school boy will pay for a simple blowjob!"

I wanted to know if she also gave away her body in the biblical sense, and she said, "Not until senior year. I felt I had to be eighteen before I'd treat a boy to my body for a little extra thrill. Brad collected the fee in advance, and he was always there to protect me. He liked to watch."

In college, Brad had morphed from Joanie's 'pimp among high school friends' into her primary lover, and he remained her occasional lover until she met me. Joanie dropped Brad and refused all sexual advances not just from him, but from everyone, once we had become exclusive, and certainly after she married me.

Joanie explained it simply: The thrills of the Brad years were over and done with. She had enjoyed them, but also, she had lost desire for the sleazy life represented by the Brads of the world. Her life had entered a new phase, both with age and maturity, as well as with me. Good for her, say I.

Now she was going off to one of her overnight meetings, with a big blowout party at a hotel, to boot, and she was excited to be seeing her oldest friend, and her first and longest duration lover, this complicated man named Brad. I couldn't help it: It made me nervous. It would make any husband nervous.

Joanie could tell I was ill at ease. She laughed at my insecurity, poo-pooing it. When that didn't work, she got serious and told me I was the only man for her, forever. Even if she were tempted, which she stressed she was not, she wouldn't do it, because she couldn't bear to lose me, and she loved Hazel too much to risk ruining our marriage.

"I know what's out there. You know what a slut I was in high school and somewhat in college. Even when we met I was easy to get into bed, something you liked a lot, Hank! But anyway, I've been around, I know what I'm missing, and I don't want it. What I want is you, my fucked-up cuckold-wannabe hubbie," Joanie said.

"Clarification, Joanie: I don't want to be a cuckold, I just find the fantasy of being one hot. Nuance, get it?" I said.

"Touché," she replied.

What Joanie said made sense, but I was still nervous. Joanie had been on overnights before, and I used to imagine her fucking other men to get ahead in the business world. Actually, my fantasies of her doing that jived with the consequences of her overnight trips, as she often was rewarded with financial goodies, or small promotions after one of her trips.

The simplest explanation, however, was that she had worked for them, and that her hard work, combined with her native brilliance, was simply paying off. Occam's razor came into play, and I accepted the naïve, simple, and as it later turned out correct (I think -- it's impossible to truly know), explanation. Joanie had been a loyal wife, and indeed, she had not even been tempted not to be.

Nevertheless, this next overnight trip, when she was to meet up with Brad, was an extreme case. I suspected Brad still had some magnetic pull on Joanie; how could he not? I told Joanie my fears. This led me to tell her in some detail about my cuckold fantasies during her previous overnight business trips. Joanie knew I did not actually want to be a cuckold, only that the fantasies of her getting her rocks off with other men turned me on.

"You know Mike," she had said, "If I want to fuck around, I don't need an overnight out-of-town trip. I can cheat on you during the day, in the morning, or the afternoon. Overnight trips just make it easy, since I'd have a hotel room. You should check my credit card bills to see if I rent rooms by the hour, you know?" Joanie was sucking me off while she told me this, each phrase punctuated by a sexy oral caress of my cock.

"Of course, maybe it's special with Brad, you know? After he sees me again, what's it been now, seven years or so, maybe he'll get some colleagues to pay up for a small gangbang? I've never had a gangbang before. Oooh, is my big friend rising to the fantasy of your little wife, the mother of your child, pleasing several men at once? We ARE a pervert, aren't we, Mike?"

We had some super-hot sex as I confessed many (but not all) of my cuckolding fantasies. Joanie told me that even if I actually wanted to be a cuckold, I was out of luck with her. I'd have to find a different sort of woman to marry.

"Even in the limit case? Even with Brad?" I had stupidly said.

"Look, as you know, Brad was my first, and I enjoyed having sex with Brad for most of my younger years, but Brad is a twisted fuck. He enjoyed pimping me out while he watched other men enjoy my body. Yeah, it was hot at the time, and I enjoyed the sexual variety that ensued, you know? I got off on the taboo of fucking in front of somebody else, fucking a man because Brad told me to, and fucking for money."

"I loved the thrill of playing the whore. He shared the money with me, and that was nice, too. But those days are over, over and done with, buried six feet deep, and Brad is now just an old friend, and nothing more, okay?"

"But you're excited to be seeing him, aren't you?" I asked.

"Yes, yes, of course I am. I still love Brad -- no, not in that way! -- and we haven't seen each other in years. I have so much history with him, that of course I'm excited to see him!" Joanie said. "It's not about sex; it's about seeing again an old friend, maybe my best friend ever," Joanie said. She was getting a little exasperated by my pre-emptive jealousy.

"Joanie, be honest. Have you ever cheated on me? Remember that trip to Atlanta, and how the next week you got that big promotion you thought you'd never get?" I asked.

Joanie looked at me. She had a strange expression on her face. "What if I had cheated on you in Atlanta? What if I fucked some stuf right in the outdoor pool at the Georgian Terrace on Peachtree Street? What if I had been a Peachtree Slut, like many a girl before me? What would you do?"

"You did that???" My cock was stirring, damn it all.

"I didn't say that. I said, what if I had? Would you strip me naked, throw me over the couch, and ream my ass? Right here in our living room where our neighbors could see us?"

"No," I said. Then I ripped off her clothes, threw her over the edge of the couch, and fucked her mercilessly, and as roughly as I could, slapping her ass viciously hard as I reamed her cunt, not her ass.

After I had exploded in her pussy, and Joanie's breathing had calmed, she said, "Now I wish I had cheated, if that was going to be your reaction."

"It's just a game, Joanie. I like the fantasy of you cheating, but not the reality. You understand the difference?" I said.

"Of course, I do. Anyone would. Hey, why don't you come with me to Chicago? My Mom can take Hazel for a few days. She'd be thrilled, and Hazel would be thrilled. You can meet my oldest and best-est friend Brad, and verify for yourself that whatever sexual spark there once was between us, is now gone, dead and buried. How about that?" Joanie proposed.

"Thanks, Joanie, but I trust you," I said.

"No, I think you don't. Hey, I can sweeten it. How about I tease you by leading Brad on all weekend? You and I know the teasing road will lead to nowhere, but Brad won't know! That might play well into your masturbation fantasies, or, since we'll be together, you can imagine you're Brad after a really good teasing session, as I blow you to smithereens, or as you fuck my brains out! What do you say?"

"It's probably not a good idea," I said, but I said the words slowly, and I suspect Joanie could tell I was tempted. "You might get carried away, and -- you know -- for old times' sake?"

"What will entice you? Do you want me actually to fuck Brad while you watch? I could probably get him to do that, you know? He never could resist me," Joanie said. "I might be able to do it, too, if you want me to. As a favor to you, you understand, right?"

Joanie figured -- correctly -- that that was another fantasy of mine, to see her get fucked by another guy. It was only a fantasy, though!

"No! I don't want that!" I said, a bit too loudly. "Certainly not," I added, in a calmer voice.

"My husband doth protest too much, methinks," Joanie teased. She tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle.

I figured I'd better go to Chicago, after all. "I've changed my mind. I'm coming. You're not fucking Brad, nor anyone else, but me. Only me, got it? One question, though."

"Yes?"

"Did you fuck somebody for that promotion?" I asked. "Back when you were staying on Peachtree Street?"

"Do you like me being a Georgia peach, honeychile?" Joanie replied. Her voice was sarcastic; she was clearly annoyed.

Joanie just stared at me. It was her 'are you really that stupid?' kind of stare. Then her mouth twisted into a smile. It was her 'no mercy, you asshole,' smile.

"Maybe," she said, "Maybe I did; maybe I didn't," in a cute little, teasing, sing song voice.

I knew she was teasing. She was still naked from our last brutal fuck, and this time when I threw her over the end of the couch, I did in fact ream her sexy ass, much to her squealing delight, and possibly -- we never knew -- to the neighbors' titillation.

Chicago

There was a bit of a scare getting to Chicago. The plane waited to take off on the tarmac for too much time, and had to return to the gate for some de-icing of the wings. I'm always a little nervous about flying, anyway. Quite frankly, I see no earthly reason why a giant hunk of metal with fixed wings, weighing literally tons, should be able to fly.

Joanie, in contrast, is absolutely fine with flying. It works, and that's enough for her. Luckily for me, the flight attendants were generous with the tiny booze bottles. Joanie and I took advantage of their generosity. By the time we finally got to Chicago, we were well on our way to being sloshed.

"I have an early Christmas present," I whispered to Joanie as we sat together in business class, thanks to massive amounts of frequent flier miles.

"For me?" Joanie said, excited it might be jewelry.

"Well, probably it's a present for me; maybe for me and you both?" I said.

Joanie opened the gift-wrapped box. "What is it?" she said, hiding her disappointment that it was not a piece of diamond jewelry. It looked like it was, but the stone was cubic zirconium.

"It's a Bluetooth enabled transmitter. I can control it with an App on my cell phone."

"And the hat?" she asked.

"It's a special Santa's Helper hat, to go with your outfit. All those baubles on it are tiny cameras, to record the action. They'll transmit by Bluetooth to my phone, via another App," I explained.

"What outfit?" Joanie asked.

"A Santa's Helper outfit, with a short skirt and that will be nice and tight where it counts. You're going to look stunning," I said. "Remember, the blow out party is a Christmas theme."

"It's a Winter Solstice theme. We're very politically correct. Hey! Don't I always look stunning?" she teased.

"I don't need the video. You wasted money on the hat. Nothing's going to happen. The sound transmitter, however, is a great idea. You can listen in to the verbal banter between me and whatever men I flirt with. You're going to love it," Joanie said, winking at me as she said it.

"Or to the banter between you and this mysterious Brad guy," I said.

"Do you really think you're going to witness a cuckold situation...?"

"Oh yes. At a party like this one promises to be, with a smoking hot babe like you, there's going to be men coming after you from all directions. Surely you know this?" I said, and Joanie giggled nervously in reply. She flamboyantly put the 'diamond' broach on her suit jacket. I told her to walk to the back of the plane and speak to a flight attendant, and I'd listen. It would be a test.

I took out the red hat with the white fluffle ball on the top. "Wear this, too, and unbutton a few buttons so you show some more cleavage," I instructed.

Joanie complied, and it worked like a charm. I got to watch the male flight attendant sneak peeks at her boobs as she 'innocently' spoke to him about how nice and smooth the flight was, after the horrible delay for de-icing.

"Did you enjoy that?" she said, as she returned to her seat. "Oh! I see how much you enjoyed it!" she said, as she looked at the tent in my pants. "I guess you saw him checking out my boobs, right?"

"You betcha," I replied.

"Could you see him stroking my ass, too?" she teased.

"You're kidding! He did that, for real?"

"Maybe. Maybe not," she said. Sometimes Joanie can drive me up the wall with her teasing!

***********

I went to the welcome party on the first day. Joanie was there of course, looking smoking hot, flirting around, bouncing from cluster of men to cluster of men as if she were a butterfly in a field of flowers. She wore a low-cut blouse with a push-up bra, and a short skirt. She had left her tan legs bare: no hosiery. Men looked down her blouse continuously, and she paid them no mind, no mind at all. After all, she told me later in the late-night restaurant we had gone to, "So they saw my bra. So what? They can see the same in the JC Penney's catalog."