A Kiss and a Doug

We married early; it was what I wanted. A husband, a home, a family. I wanted everything I hadn't had as a child - a real home. I'd grown up in foster care. They were kind. No one hurt me. But it was never real. It always felt pretend. Some saw it as a job. I was a bit of extra money that would go towards a family holiday I would never go on—a new car. I would never ride in. I was some extra pin money.

It would have been different if I'd been adopted. That would have been more real, wouldn't it? I had already outgrown my cuteness when I entered the system at age 7. I don't remember much before then. My friend Helen at work can remember being in her cot. I can't remember much at all before I was 7—brief swatches of memories. A blue settee and cigarette smoke curling up to the ceiling, but not much else. Helen says it's a coping mechanism. I've blocked it out.

I remember all my foster homes, though. Mrs Bateson was the best. I liked her; she was like a proper grandma. But they decided she was too old. I didn't care if she was a bit confused sometimes. I liked her. I helped her.

I learned from the Johnson family that a husband, wife and children were the best type of family, in my opinion—the family I wanted to have. Now I was only nineteen when I met David. Dave, as he likes to be called, was the first to show real interest in me. I admit I was flattered that he wanted me. I was very ordinary. I know I had a good figure. Men tended to talk to my chest rather than my face. I suppose it was preferable. My bust was impressive, my face, well, not so much.

Dave was different, although he loved my figure, he seemed interested in me. He listened to me, to what I had to say. We were already married before I realised he wasn't the good listener I thought he was. He had never actually listened, just pretended to.

We had our little flat, and I loved keeping it clean and tidy. Helen said I was like a 1950's housewife and that Dave needed to pull his weight with the washing and the cleaning. I wasn't bothered, though. I liked having someone to love. Finally, to have someone love me.

I knew Dave loved me. He didn't say it, but I knew it. I could see it in his eyes when we were alone, when we made love. Not that Dave would ever call it that. He called it a shag, a jump or a good seeing to. He could be very crude at times.

I'd only been with him, of course. I enjoyed it. I wanted the feeling of being so close to him. I needed the closeness. He was always keen to be with me in that way. Sometimes he was so excited that it was over quickly, but he was always ready to go again. I never refused him. I was a good wife to him. I wanted him to be happy. Looking back, our love life was all about his pleasure, but I was too inexperienced to know the difference.

Dave liked to show me off to his mates. I was happy that he was proud of me. I always made an effort with my hair and make-up when we went out, but it was only my figure that they ever looked at. Dave encouraged me to wear low-cut tops that showed off my cleavage and short skirts. I felt uncomfortable, but if I refused, he used to sulk and make such a fuss that it was just easier to give in. I so wanted to please him.

Then we started to go out less. His mates came over to the flat more.

"Get that little skirt on, you look smashing in that," Dave said.

"No, it's too short. I'll wear it for you when we are alone."

"Give the lads a treat, I don't mind."

So eventually I wore the short skirt. I made them snacks when they were gaming or playing cards. I tried to put the food down carefully on the coffee table so the boys couldn't see down my top or up my skirt as I bent over. That worked until Dave moved the table. We talked about it,

"Oh, let them look. I love showing you off."

So, I didn't complain. I got over feeling uncomfortable. It made Dave happy to let others see what he had. I would have been OK if that was where it stopped. He started to tell me that he wanted to share me with his friends. As much as I tried to make him happy. I couldn't agree to that.

I wanted a happy, traditional marriage and family. That meant monogamy in my eyes. Dave laughed and said that was old hat. I told him no. The only time I'd I refused what he wanted. It was a step too far for me.

He tried everything he could to encourage me, including showing me porn. That was the first time I realised our sex life wasn't all it could be. The women in those films seemed to have a much better time than I ever had. I watched a stranger going down on a willing wife.

"Why do you never do that to me, Dave? " I asked.

"Not for me, Babe, not going to happen."

So, our sex life was all about what he wanted, not what I wanted. It was a one-way street. That made me even more determined to say no whenever he tried to get me to sleep with one of his band of geeks. He constantly pushed my boundaries when he could,

"If you love me, you'd do it."

I replied, "If you loved me, you wouldn't ask me to."

I began to realise that Dave's love came with many conditions, but I refused to let being a whore be one of them.

Things changed when Doug came on a temporary contract at Dave's factory. He was only there for six months. Dave included him with his mates. He was older than us at 38 with sandy hair and a thick, full beard. He had a lovely smile.

He always thanked me on game nights for the snacks I'd made. He brought the trays back and even tried to wash them up. I wouldn't let him, but he talked to me as I washed up. I did eventually let him help. He asked about my week, my day, and my life. He asked me about me, and I knew he was listening because of the questions he asked. I realised that I was starting to look forward to his Friday night visits. It was nice to have someone to chat with other than Helen. Helen teased me about having a crush on Doug. I denied it, but even Dave noticed I was keener to make myself look nice when I knew Doug was coming around.

The truth was, it was nice to have a friend who listened. Dave made me feel stupid sometimes. He always dismissed my opinions if they differed from his. Doug was different. He'd ask why I thought that. If he disagreed, he'd put his own contrasting opinion forward, but he didn't try to sway me; he respected me and my views. I knew that I would miss him when he left.

As Doug's six-month contract was drawing to a close, Dave started on about sharing me again. "What about Doug? He's always in the kitchen having one of your little chats. He's obviously keen to get in your knickers. What about him?"

"No, he's my friend, don't spoil it."

"Ooh, friend, is it? He's the only friend you've seemed keen to tart yourself up for. I'd have thought you'd be gagging for it."

"Doug respects me. He wouldn't use me like that."

"He's a bloke. I bet he's been knocking one out thinking of you for months. So, let's ask your precious Doug and see what he says?"

"Please don't spoil it. I don't want him to think less of me."

"I tell you what, I'll make you a deal. You go along with it, see what he says and then we'll start working on that family you are so keen on having."

I looked at him, shocked; he knew I was keen to have children, to be a real family.

"If he's keen, you have to go through with it."

"Just the once," I bartered. I was sure that Doug wouldn't let me down.

"Just the once," agreed Dave.

That Saturday, Dave invited Doug for a proper meal, and I prepared it all day. It was lovely to get the chance to cook for someone other than Dave. The table looked beautiful, and for the first time in my life, I did too. Although Dave had insisted I wear the lingerie he liked, he let me choose the dress myself. It was a wrap-around dress with sleeves. It showed hardly any flesh, just a hint of cleavage, but I knew it flattered my figure. I kept my hair simple with more subtle makeup than Dave liked. I felt like a lady with class.

Doug complimented me on the table, the food and my lovely dress. I was nervous, but he soon put me at my ease. As I was getting dessert from the kitchen. Dave offered me to Doug. I nearly dropped the plate but hovered by the door to hear their conversation.

"You want me to sleep with Heather like she's just some tart. You're offering her to me like she's some parting gift before I go back to London?"

"It's my kink, my fantasy. I like showing her off. I like other men looking at her, knowing what I've got. This is my ultimate fantasy, like a real-life porno. Then she comes back to me; she's mine, and I reclaim her," Dave smirked.

"What about Heather in this scenario? What about what she wants?!

"Well, she's never been keen. She wants to stay faithful. I've explained that she is faithful to me if I give her permission. A hall pass. She's always refused until she got to know you. She tries to hide it, but I know she wants you. This is my chance to fulfil my fantasy. Are you going to let me down?"

I held my breath, waiting for the answer, half wanting Doug to say no and half desperate for him to say yes. That shocked me to admit to myself that I did want him. I think I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted any man.

"Yes, I will fulfil your fantasy, your dream, but I don't agree with it. I think you're a fool. However, you'll have to agree to my rules to fulfil a few of my fantasies, so to speak."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Well, for a start, I'm in charge."

"Hey, I'm not into that cuckold shit. I was thinking more along the lines of a threesome."

"No, if you want this, you watch. You don't participate. You will watch, and you will be restrained."

"Restrained?"

"Yes, apart from watching, you will have no involvement at all. That's the condition."

I peeked my head around the door to see Dave nod warily.

"Good, bring your dining chair with the arms through to your bedroom. I'm in charge now."

"Heather, sweetheart, will dessert keep?" he shouted to me.

"Yes," I stammered.

" Good, we will save it for afterwards."

I put the dessert back in the fridge and realised that my hands were shaking. I was sure he would have said no, yet I was excited that he said yes. I went to the bedroom and almost knocked on my bedroom door. It all seemed so surreal. Dave was tied to the chair with a selection of his novelty ties. He looked so ridiculous. Cartoon characters should not be involved in bedroom activities.

Doug held out his hands to me and pulled me towards him as he kissed me for the first time. All my doubts melted away in that one kiss. One hand was tight on my lower back as I sank towards the floor. He held me tightly as I responded to his kiss. His unfamiliar beard tickled me as he explored my mouth with his tongue.

"Hey, I didn't agree to kissing like that," Dave interjected.

"Shut up!" Doug snarled at Dave, " Or I'll use another tie to gag you."

Taking my face in his hands, he said,

"Look at me, Heather. Do you want this?"

I started to glance over at Dave,

"No, don't look at him. Do you want this? Do you want me? If you don't, that's OK. But I need to know that this is your decision."

"I never wanted to be with anyone else," I stuttered, "Until I met you."

"That's all I needed to hear, sweetheart," he smiled. " I need you to know that I would never consider doing this either unless it was you." He then whispered in my ear. "You're special, very special."

I melted again as I felt his hot breath on my ear. With that, he opened my dress and let it drop to the floor. I suddenly felt very cheap in the stockings, suspenders and push-up bra that Dave had insisted on.

"You are very beautiful Heather, too beautiful to wear all this tat. You don't need it. Let's get you out of it, shall we?"

He gently helped me to undress and admired my breasts with a sharp intake of breath as he removed my bra. He paused as he pulled down my thong, closing his eyes and drinking in the scent of my arousal. He murmured, then suddenly, without warning, he pulled me to him. Kneeling below me, his tongue plunged into my wet depths, lapping at my womanhood.

"Hey!" shouted Dave. " You don't have to do that. She doesn't need that!"

I became ever more breathless as Doug's soft beard tickled my thighs. As my orgasm started to build I managed to shout,

"Shut up Dave, I - bloody - well - do!" as I came hard.

My legs shaking, Doug gently guided me to the bed. I was lost, talking gibberish. "I have never - no one ever - I didn't know - I didn't -."

"Sweetheart, no one ever did that for you?" he asked, glowering at Dave. "Well, then, he's even more of a fool than I thought."

"Hey," said Dave.

"Idiot," growled Doug.

"No one has ever made love to you, have they Heather? Well, that's going to change," he said as he removed his clothes.

Under his shirt, his chest and tummy were covered with a layer of sandy brown hair, a shade darker than his beard. I liked it. Dave was pale and hairless. Doug looked warm and fuzzy as he stood in his loose blue boxer shorts. I realised that my heart was beating just a little bit too fast. I was really excited. I wanted this. I wanted him. He was turning sideways as he dropped those boxers. I gasped, and Dave said,

"Bloody hell, you didn't say you were hung, Doug. Untie me, I've changed my mind."

"That's exactly why you're restrained Dave. I thought you might change your mind when you realised you don't measure up."

With that, he turned to face me, and I saw him in all his glory for the first time. He was impressive, but if I'm honest, it wasn't the sheer size of him that excited me. It was because it belonged to him. It was him that excited me.

As we lay together, naked, I forgot all about Dave. It was as if he had ceased to exist. I could only think about Doug and me as his hands ran gently over my arms, waist, bottom, and breasts. His hands lingered over my breasts, gently stroking and kneading the flesh before lifting each one to kiss and suck, gently at first and then more insistent. He smiled at me.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect."

I knew I wasn't, but at that moment, I was, in his eyes. He kissed me with increasing passion as his fingers worked their way down to touch me again. As he kissed me, I felt his fingers searching to give me pleasure and the relief I craved. When it came, I cried out, kissing his face and stroking the softness of his beard with my fingertips.

"Thank you," I cried. " Thank you."

It was spoiled by Dave shouting " Hey, what about me? At least untie my wanking hand."

Doug didn't answer him but got off the bed and walked towards Dave. I noticed that Dave never took his eyes off Doug's erection. I swear he licked his lips as he approached.

"I think you've seen and said enough, Dave," said Doug. With that, he moved Dave's chair around to face the wall and placed his own boxers over Dave's head. He returned to my arms and held me tight. I reached for him and held his hardness and thickness for the first time. It was so hard, long and smooth. His foreskin was partly folded back, showing the tip of the head of his manhood. It glistened with moisture, with his desire for me. Dave always made me suck him first. I did it for him like so many things, but with Doug, I wanted to taste him, not just for him, but for me, too. I started to roll my tongue around the now-exposed head, stroking his furry balls as I did so.

"As wonderful as that feels, sweetheart, tonight is all about you - making love to you."

He positioned himself between my legs, rubbing his glans over my already engorged clitoris. I thought I might come then and there. It felt so good. Slowly, he entered me, gently going deeper than anyone had ever been. I felt fuller than I'd ever been before as he entered me completely. I felt a depth of pleasure I'd never known, partly because of his size but also because he knew what he was doing. He knew how to pleasure a woman in ways that Dave had never even imagined.

I had never dreamt that it could be like this. As he increased his pace, I felt my pleasure build. He kissed me, caressed me and all the time he moved faster and deeper within me. Just as I felt I couldn't take any more pleasure, he whispered in my ear,

"If you were mine, I would never share you - I could never share you. You're too precious to me."

He tipped me over the edge with those whispered words, and I came hard. The orgasm carried on for longer than any I'd ever known. As we lay together, holding each other, I whispered.

"Did you mean what you said? If I were yours, you would never share me?"

"Of course. Why would any man, any real man, want to share the woman he loves?"

"Well then," I said "I'm yours,"

A big smile came over his face." I was hoping you'd say that; you've had my heart since the first time you let me dry the dishes," he laughed. "But you need to know that if we are together, we will be an equal partnership, a team. We will share the chores and the decisions; I don't want you to wait on me hand and foot. The same with the children - we both do the same."

I cried then, thinking of a family life with this lovely man. Of course, Dave had to spoil it.

"Is this part of the game? Are you role-playing? I don't like it."

Doug very quietly took me by the hand, and naked, he led me to the kitchen, God, he was lovely.

"Let's eat dessert and make plans."

As we ate, he told me he'd fallen hard for me, hated Dave for the way he treated me, but knew that I was loyal to him. That's why he had agreed to today's suggestion, hoping that if he made love to me, I'd realise the difference, that he could show me that he really loved me. He felt it was his one chance to convince me.

"Well, I'm convinced." I smiled.

"It will only get better, sweetheart," said Doug. "Please pack your bags and come back to mine. You can stay in my flat until we return to London at the end of the week, if that's what you want," he said, suddenly looking unsure.

I nodded and he smiled, saying, "We need to start making some babies."

I didn't have much and left all the tarty clothes and stuff David liked. Doug hated them as much as I did. Helen was shocked when I told her, but after meeting with Doug, I think she was a little bit jealous.

Dave was not happy, though he was relieved when Doug finally untied him.

"It was only meant to be a one-time thing," he whined.

"Well, it was - for you," said Doug, "I hope it was worth it."

I'm sure that he will get over it. I think he really needed to experiment a little on his own for a while. I couldn't forget how his eyes watched Doug that night; he didn't seem to watch me at all. Maybe wanting me to be with other men was actually him wanting to be with other men. Although he had killed any misplaced loyalty I'd had for him, I genuinely hoped that he found what he was looking for.

Doug was true to his word. He truly valued me, and I felt truly loved for the first time in my life.

In all the years since, he has never disappointed me.