A Cock in the Hand Ch. 05

Although this is a stand-alone story, it is actually the fifth part in 'A Cock in the Hand' series, which began under the gay male category, depicting the manipulation of a straight married man to a submissive gay bottom to a big-cocked alpha male.

This chapter describes the introduction of the big-cocked stranger to the wife of the submissive cocksucker. It contains content of non-consent reluctant man/woman sex, as the wife learns what a 'real' cock feels like. If this is in any way offensive, please move onto another story. If you choose to read on, I hope you enjoy.

Note to reader, as I worked on this story, Amy had a mind of her own and took the story further than I originally planned. So, it's a little long, but I hope the payoff is worth it. Enjoy, and as always, I welcome your feedback!

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I sat waiting for my husband, Wayne's, call, with complete dread. I had no Idea how I could talk to him and pretend I hadn't just ruined our marriage. My stomach felt like I'd swallowed a bag of cement. A long, hot shower did not help to make me feel any cleaner. In fact, I felt nothing but dirty. In just one mindless day, I had tossed all morals aside and succumbed to animal lust with a complete stranger, in my own home.

As these words play in my mind, that was part of the problem. It didn't feel like my home. Since we moved to Dallas for my husband's career, I hadn't embraced the new home, or the town.

On paper, it made perfect sense. I could easily transfer with my company. I work for a large retailer of primarily women's clothing and home goods. His promotion came with a significant raise. However, it turned out, I hated my new boss, and the stress of moving our children away from family, made me feel trapped and resentful.

Wayne tried to help, telling me I could leave my job until we got settled, but that thought only made me feel more dependent and more deeply trapped. I had always been independent-minded and proud of my career. The thought of being a stay-at-home mom, while having some appeal, was always terrifying to me. I would be completely dependent on him for everything. There was no chance I could ever do that.

Then, when Mark showed up at my house, and made me feel sexy and vital, I just lost my fucking mind. All my pent-up frustration, fear and anger released in an animal passion; I hadn't felt in years. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Wayne is a pilot for a major airline and got a promotion with a significant raise to move from Baltimore to Dallas. We discussed it, weighed the pros and cons, and mutually decided to make the move. I went into this, eyes wide open and confident it was the best for our family.

I knew it would be hard being away from Mom and my sister, but with our flight perks, it would be easy to fly back or have them fly out as frequently as we wanted.

Unfortunately, the new boss turned out to be an oppressive, hands-on prick, who used to have my job, and refused to see how anyone would want to handle anything differently than him.

That introduced a whole new level of stress and exponentially increased the stress between Wayne and me and magnified every obstacle. Trying to find daycare and looking at schools became another point of frustration, and with Wayne's travel schedule, the weight of it all rested firmly on me.

So how do I respond? By fucking the young man, my husband was trying to help out of a tough situation. He had offered to pay him for doing some landscaping work on the new house.

I wish Wayne had told me in advance he was coming. Maybe it would have been different. When Mark showed up dressed like he was, it set me back, and I never seemed to get back on track.

That morning, my mom was staying with me, thanks to Wayne's suggestion to help me with the transition. We flew mom out to spend time with the kids, and give me some relief, as I searched for childcare options and reviewed preschool choices. I had that Monday off, and Mom was planning to take the kids to the zoo, while I had some 'me' time and interviewed a couple of babysitter candidates.

Mom and Dad married young, which resulted in an extra-close relationship between her, my younger sister, and me. She looked amazing for her age, and often was mistaken for our older sister. Because of that dynamic, my sister and I really enjoyed spending time with Mom since she was sometimes as much a friend, as she was a mom.

The kids were sleeping in, so mom and I were enjoying the peace and quiet poolside, in the Texas heat. We wore matching bikinis I brought home from work, almost jokingly. We would never have dared to wear them, had we known there would be company.

I was enjoying the quiet, reclining by the pool, sucking up the rapidly rising heat like a lizard. Mom went to refill her coffee and I was starting to drift off, when she returned with our surprise visitor, startling me awake.

"Amy, sweetie, look what I found," she said, in a loud and perky voice.

"Hello, I'm Mark Thomas. Good to meet you, Mrs. Stilson. Seeing you, there's no doubt you and Ericka are related. Such rare beauty is unmistakable, but she's joking about being your mom, right?"

I tried to snap myself awake, but was confused who this was, and where the hell Mom picked him up. After an awkward pause, he spoke up.

"Damn, Steven didn't tell you I was coming?" he asked, uncomfortably.

"Who's Steven?" I asked, growing uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I mean Wayne," he corrected himself.

I looked at Mom like she was crazy; I couldn't believe she let this stranger into our house. She stood there grinning, in her bright-red bikini, confident as could be, eyes scanning Mark like a starving man eyeing a tender steak.

It was at that moment, that I noticed the object of her roaming eyes. Mark was tall and well put together, wearing obnoxiously tight jean shorts and a plain white tank T. The bulge in his pants was mesmerizing. I realized that, when I finally looked away and he flashed a snickering grin, with his eyes darting between Mom and me.

Trying not to stare at his bulge, I found myself enamored with his pecs and biceps, as well. My awkwardness only grew, and Mom loved every minute of it. She grinned ear to ear, shoving her chest forward, like a peacock with its feathers fanned out wide. Only Mom would invite a complete stranger in, and flirt with him mercilessly.

When I noticed the bulge growing larger, I was slapped back to reality. Mom and I were half naked in front of a large, hung stranger, and the kids asleep in the house. My discomfort level was growing by the second, while Mom was oblivious, and loving being ogled by the young stud.

Sensing my unease, Mark reacted. "I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Mark Thomas. I met your husband, Wayne recently, at the park jogging. He heard my story and decided to help by paying four hundred dollars toward my rent in exchange for some help and told me I could get four hundred dollars more for doing some odd jobs here at the house.

"I'm so sorry, that he didn't tell you. I hope I didn't get my wires crossed on which day," he said, looking concerned.

I was confused by his comments. Wayne never said anything and frankly, it did not sound like him to take pity on a stranger and give them four dollars let alone four hundred.

"Oh yeah, I do have the ATM receipt. He handed it to me with the cash and I never tossed it." He held it out.

It was Wayne's name on the receipt. "He did tell me he was gonna try to hire someone to dig out all these old shrubs and weeds," I said, as Mom's grin widened.

Four hundred dollars was way too cheap. Even eight hundred dollars sounded like a steal, for the amount of work. The shrubs were thick and overgrown all around the house. I thought, it did sound more like Wayne-- 'helping' a stranger, by taking advantage of them.

With Mom's encouragement, I decided to let him stay, and showed him all the work we wanted done. Mark was surprisingly open about his job at a local construction company being eliminated and his struggle looking for work.

He started working in the back and Mom did some prying into his love life, while he worked. She discovered he had been engaged, but his fiancé had broken it off a year ago, after almost five years. He seemed to love the attention and continued all morning, encouraging Mom's flirtation.

"You, ladies, are a prime example of why I haven't dated. All the pretty ones are taken. I could tell Wayne had some smarts, but wow. He picked a winner, Mrs. Stilson."

"Call me Amy," I said, blushing.

I had to admit, I was loving the attention almost as much as Mom.

"My Daddy used to say, take a good look at your mother-in-law, if you wanna know what your future wife's gonna look like in thirty years. Obviously, Wayne heard that, too."

"Watch it Mark, I'm not that much older..."

"Sorry, ma'am, I was just gonna say you must have got married at fifteen, or so."

"Good save, Mark, good save," I laughed.

"If I'd known the perks of this job, I'd have paid Steven, er--I mean Wayne, for the privilege."

I blushed again, as I watched him work, sweat starting to glisten on his rippled, tanned body. His ass was nearly as mesmerizing as the bulge. I was now able to stare at him, as he focused on the bushes.

"Excuse me a minute," said Mom, standing up. "I need to check on my grand babies. I know I kept them up late, but they are being sleepyheads this morning. Or they're up to no good. It just seems too quiet." She strutted away, glancing back, to make sure he was watching.

I had to admit, it did feel good to be the object of such a good-looking man's attention. Tensions between Wayne and I had been higher than ever, lately. It seemed like the past three or four weeks, he showed no interest, and frankly I didn't mind. It was easier to blame him for the stress of the move, than take responsibility for my own decisions.

"Can I get you some ice water or lemonade, Mark, you look downright hot," I said, doing my own bit of flirting. I noticed I even threw in a hint of southern drawl, with my double entendre.

"Lemonade sounds great. But you look awfully comfortable laying there. I can get us both, some, if you tell me where the glasses are." He had walked over and stood next to my lounge chair, with his bulging cock hovering in front of me.

I suddenly imagined sitting on the edge of the lounge chair, looking his cock dead on, while I unbuttoned those shorts. Then, in my mind, I unzipped them and slid them down leaving his semi-hard monster fighting to break free of his underwear. Next, my fingers slipped into his waistband and pulled his undies out and down, revealing his hot manhood before gripping him with both hands.

"Glasses?" he asked, breaking my lecherous train of thought.

My eyes moved from his cock to his wide-eyed face grinning down at me. My mouth hung open, a side effect of my dirty little thoughts. My pussy was flushed with moist heat, and I had to glance down and make sure my wetness was not visible. When I realized he knew what I was thinking, my face reddened, and his knowing smile widened just a little.

Then, with an arrogant tone, he asked, "Which cabinet are the glasses, Mrs. Stilson. You look a little flushed, some cold lemonade could help."

"The second cabinet to the right of the fridge, thank you, Mark," I said, trying to show some bit of self-control.

As he turned, the profile of his bulge was accentuated by the sunlight, as my eyes were drawn back to it. I was thankful for Mom's return, to snap me out of my sexual fog.

"Sound asleep. Maybe, I'll take them to see 'Minions' today, and get an earlier start for the zoo tomorrow. I hated to wake them."

I looked at my watch and it was already 11:00am. "Wow, they never sleep this long. Gramma wore them out."

Just then, Mark returned with two glasses of lemonade. "Your drinks, ladies."

"Well, thank you, sir," replied Mom, with an overdone smile. "I could get used to this."

"So could I," replied Mark, as he drank us in with his eyes.

He went back for his drink and Mom joked, "I think you could use a full-time pool boy, don't you?"

"Hell, yes!" I giggled. "Look at that ass in those jeans."

"It's not his ass I was looking at. He's hung like a... Thanks again, Mark!" she yelled, as he came back out.

I had to laugh at how easily I came around to a stranger having the run of the house.

Mom kept up the conversation with him, as he worked. No question was off-limits, and he seemed willing to answer. He seemed truly devastated by the break-up, and still hadn't fully recovered. His ex was already engaged again, but he was still not ready to think about anything serious. He'd been out of work for almost two months but had a lead on a potential full-time slot that could start next month.

When the kids woke up, they had cereal and were ready to hit the pool. Mark continued to work while Mom and I played with Caleb and Ashley. Caleb was five and would start kindergarten this year, and Ashley was three and a half. She loved and idolized her brother, and thank God, he felt the same. I knew that would change some day, but for now, he loved to play with little sis.

Mom and I swam with them, and after a bit, Mom, of course, took the opportunity to flirt.

"Hey, Mark, you look awfully warm. Sure, you don't want to cool off?" she yelled, then whispered to me, "No need for a bathing suit."

"Mom!" I looked at her in disbelief.

"You know, I can honestly say, I have never been invited to swim by two bikini-clad babes in my life. Thanks for making my day."

Mom giggled and I just blushed, as usual. Luckily, he laughed it off and got back to work. She, of course, continued to interrogate him and, it seemed, he really had taken the break-up hard. He had only been on three dates since, and none made it to a second.

The kids had just eaten breakfast and Mom had some cereal with them. I was getting hungry, so I offered Mark a sandwich, while Mom stayed with Caleb and Ashley in the pool.

We sat on the barstools at the kitchen counter and ate.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you and Steven, I mean Wayne. I'm sorry I keep saying that. It's just that's what he told me his name was, at first. I think he was reluctant to give his real name to a stranger, even though he was helping me out with a problem. Anyway, I am grateful. And I hope to repay your kindness someday, Mrs. Stilson."

"Call me Amy, please. There's nothing to repay. We're paying you to do a job. It's not charity at all," I said, touching his hand that lay on the counter.

I'm still not sure why I did that, but he didn't move his away, and I held it there, afraid to pull back and acknowledge my mistake. Then it became--awkward. My hand rested on his, as we sat next to each other. His brown eyes seemed to carry the sadness of his breakup, and I felt a wave of warmth through my whole body.

Suddenly, it hit home, how cold it had been between Wayne and me, and how long it had been since we made love. Then, I caught myself letting my eyes wander back to those jean shorts.

When he spun his barstool to face me, I just stared at his growing cock for a second, or two. His legs spread, revealing the outline of his manhood, as it filled with a rush of blood, causing a similar rush between my legs.

I whimpered and pulled my hand back, with a look of shame and fear. Fear of what I might do if I didn't break this train of thought. He clearly noticed my stare, looked down at his growing manhood, and his face flushed with redness.

He struggled for words, "I'm sor--"

"Let me refill your lemonade, Mark," I interrupted, taking his glass and practically running toward the fridge. "So, tell me, how did you and my husband actually meet, while he was jogging in the park?" I followed up, determined not to make more of an awkward moment than it was.

He hesitated, and I feared maybe I was unsuccessful in downplaying the moment.

"Well, that's a funny story, Amy. There I was, on my first day running in years; I was in the woods at the farthest point from the trail heads, in distress, and along comes Steven. He took matters into his own hands and fixed me right up."

I had put the counter between us, after filling his glass. I slid it to him as he spoke, and then grabbed my plate and slid my sandwich to my side of the counter. I thought I handled it all quite nonchalantly.

"What kind of distress?" I asked, puzzled by his choice of words, and again reverting back to calling him Steven.

He showed a sly little grin for just a second, then responded. "My muscles were spasming and hard as steel. Mark saw my situation, grabbed hold of the troubled area, stretched, squeezed, and rubbed until the problem was resolved. He really went above and beyond, to make sure I was taken care of. Not too many people would do what he did for a stranger. He even followed up on a couple of occasions since. He's been a real friend."

It seemed strange the way he described everything to me, but l was just happy our uncomfortable moment was behind us. I changed the topic back to his new job prospect and when we finished our lunch, headed back to the pool.

Shortly after that, Mom suggested to the kids, going to see 'Minions' and they lit up with excitement. I suddenly felt a sense of fear at the thought of being alone with Mark. The electricity in that touch played through my mind, and my mental image of freeing his cock flashed over and over in my head.

From there, it spiraled into a barrage of wicked thoughts. I imagined everything from kneeling in my yard and sucking his cock, to being bent over the kitchen counter and fucked from behind, pounding me to a screaming climax. In that fantasy, it happened so fast, he just yanked my bikini bottom to the side and fucked me with it on.

The frequency and intensity of thoughts only seemed to get worse, as the thought of giving into my animal lust made me feel excited, alive and sexy, like I hadn't in what seemed like years. Wayne and I had been married for eleven years, and I never got the 'seven-year itch' but I was definitely feeling the eleven-year itch if that was a thing.

While Mom rallied the troops for the movie, the Texas afternoon heat kicked in and my eyes burned from perspiration, as I lay on my back in the sun. So, I went inside to cool down for a bit. As I did, I saw Mark out the front window, now shirtless. His body glistened with sweat, as I watched through the sheer curtains. I stood once again, mesmerized as I stared at his firm body and rippled muscles.

With the curtains there, I felt like I was unseen, and he gave no indication of noticing. My mind ran through fantasy after fantasy. Taking him to my shower and washing him clean, before he picks me up and fucks me with my thighs around his waist; fucking him hot and sweaty on my living room floor; ass on the counter, legs spread wide as he fucks me in the kitchen; image after image, rushed through my brain.

I was obsessed with what that cock must look like, trying to imagine how big it was hard, and what it would feel like inside me. I was ashamed and excited at the same time.

Wayne and I married young, and I had only been with two other men. I did it once with a Michael Celeski in high school and seven times with Richard Selest in college, before I dated Wayne. Richard brought me my first orgasm the fourth time. Wayne brought me many, but they were becoming fewer and farther between.

As I watched Mark and fantasized, I told myself it was going to be a night with my plastic buddy. With Wayne away so much, I learned early on in our marriage, that a vibrating cock was a necessity. I was open with Wayne about it, and we even used it together over the phone a few times. Unfortunately, it was proportioned to Wayne and not Mark, but I would make do.

'Till then, I was content to watch and fantasize. That was, until Mom came down with the kids.