Help Wanted

A little history. Met in college. Married ten years. Wife is gorgeous: 5'4", dark brown, wavy hair to the middle of her back, small breasts, skinny waist, perfectly bubbled ass supported by shapely thighs, attractive face with full lips that look like they were meant to be wrapped around a cock. She was 30 at the time, and me, 34. I'm Carl and she's Susan.

We were openminded about sex. Twice in the first three years of our marriage we had done a threesome with another man, the first time a guy who hit on her at a wedding and the second time a guy who boldly hit on her in spite of my presence at a bar. We had both enjoyed the alcohol fueled experiences, but our conversations afterword indicated once sober she felt more regretful than anything about what happened. I hoped we would find a regular threesome partner. She didn't want to talk about it.

What I remember most about those experiences is that I loved seeing the effect of a larger cock than mine on her. I'm just under five and not very thick. Both of our threesome partners were at least longer and thick enough to appear very manly. Both of them made her cum, which my cock never does, and it was a beautiful sight.

I was eager to keep trying to find a great threesome partner for regular rendezvous, but Susan wanted the subject dropped. She seemed in denial of the obvious pleasure she got from the three-ways we did. Occasionally, when we met a guy I thought she might find appealing, I would ask if he "moved" her. She always said something like, "Don't even go there," letting me know she was not interested in renewing our past adventures.

She became increasingly disinterested in sex in general, and as I've heard many a man complain, never initiated sex and often said no when I attempted to arouse her. I wondered how long it would be till she started reading the paper while I fucked her.

When I tried to talk to her about the situation she would give a frustrated sigh, as if to say, here we go again. I even told her it was okay for her to find a guy to fuck without my being there, knowing I would benefit from the increased libido that scenario would likely create. That and similar suggestions were met with, "That's not going to happen."

During this time the internet was my best friend. I discovered cuckold porn and thought any man with a woman sexy enough to have several lovers was indeed lucky. I wanted such a woman but resigned myself to jacking off to the visually aided fantasy. I agreed with her that it wasn't going to happen.

My hottest fantasy was for her to find a boyfriend or threesome partner that would rock her sexual world, a guy she would lust after the way I lusted after her. My fantasies progressed to imagine her having a boyfriend that took control of her sexually. That's when Daryl came into the picture.

Daryl was a new hire where I worked. He was tall, almost embarrassingly handsome and reeked of confidence. When I saw him I hoped he had a really high pitched voice or some other oddity that would take his perfect appearance down a notch. When we were introduced he had a firm handshake and looked me in the eye offering a disarming smile. At quitting time he approached and asked if I would join him for a beer.

There was no reason to rush home to my icy wife, so I joined him and one beer turned into 5 or 6 or 7. I don't count well after 4. 1-4 we talked about sports, the work environment and current events. By 5 the conversation had meandered its way toward women. I asked if he was married and he told me he had just broke up with his girlfriend and moved back into a studio apartment that he kept whether he lived with a woman or not.

"I'm sorry to hear that, and it's none of my fucking business," I said, with a very slight slur, "But what happened?"

He said, "Your right, it's none of your business, but I'll tell you anyway."

"Guy's like to brag about their cocks," he said, "but the fact is, mines huge, and it gets me in trouble."

"Wait, you have that face and that body and a charming personality and a huge cock."

"I'm not proud of it," he said with a completely serious look.

I grinned at his sarcasm and asked, "So women feel like they can't compete with you?"

"It's never that complex. I follow my dick a lot, and it goes where my girlfriend at the time doesn't want it to go."

"Are these supposedly monogamous relationships you're talking about?"

"No. From the start I tell them I won't be in a closed relationship. They agree and then it slowly changes. Within a few months they want monogamy and it's time for me to go back to my apartment."

"Why not find one you really like and settle down?"

"Knowing the affect my cock has on a woman, especially when she gets it the first time, makes me want to see that affect on as many women as possible. It's just a lot of fun, and I feel like I'm doing the world a service. I make a lot of women smile. I'm always giving the woman the biggest she's ever had and she goes crazy with lust. It's fucking exciting to see."

"A few months," I asked.

"Well, there's a pattern. They fall in lust. They want me available so they invite me to live in their house/apartment whatever. I move in but insist the whole time that I don't do monogamy. They say they just want me to fuck them and don't care about anything else. I'm basically a nice guy, so their lust turns to love and then to a desire for monogamy, which I haven't been able to pull off. I lust for that next experience with a woman who hasn't had anything like my cock."

"Sure sounds like a fun problem."

"It is, but I realize I need to break the pattern and stop moving in with them. It's tiring to go hunting for new pussy all the time, but I'm finding it's best to just have one night stands with no exchange of phone numbers. I know this makes me a shithead, but I'm finding the best fit for me are the married ones. They just want good cock on the side. One even told me her husband loved it when she came home stretched and messy. I was happy to help out. Unfortunately they moved away."

I'm sure you can guess the affect our conversation had on me.

Daryl and I became regular drinking buddies. The wheels were constantly turning regarding wanting him to fuck Susan. This guy needed a woman he could fuck whenever he wanted without worrying about strings, and he liked fucking married women. The problem was getting Susan to agree. After a couple of months of wanting I formulated a plan that started with inviting him over for dinner, pending a clearance from Susan, of course.

Susan had been terse of late, tending to ignore me when I came home with beer on my breath, possibly because I was also frisky. Sex, if it happened at all, was going to happen on a Saturday night and I may as well not even try for a weeknight. A slate of TV shows reigned supreme over her schedule. "No, Honey, my show is on," rebuffed my attempts at sex. The way things had been going I think we could have squeezed it into a commercial break. Something had to change.

When I got home and walked in the house Susan was in front of the TV. I walked into the living room and sat in a chair, looking at her. She grabbed the remote and paused whatever she was watching. She looked at me and said, "Something's obviously on your mind."

"I just wanted to tell you that I invited Daryl from work over for dinner. I told him I had to clear it with you."

"So, it's not enough that he has become your drinking buddy, now you want to bring him over for dinner."

To avoid having her suspect I was trying to arrange another threesome, which I was, I had a plan that Daryl, unknowing at that point, was going to help me execute.

"When is this dinner you volunteered me for?"

"This Friday."

"This Friday. Some warning. What would you like me to fix."

"Steaks. I'll do the barbequing. You can pop potatoes in the microwave and toss a salad. Doesn't need to be fancy, this guys just lonely. He'll appreciate having dinner with us."

Notice I didn't say "bachelor" or "single" or any of those words that might alert her to my intention or trigger her sexual defensiveness.

"We haven't had company for a while. I guess I can miss a couple shows and I should probably get to know this guy you apparently love to drink with. What's he like?"

"What do you mean," I asked, exploring her curiosity.

"Personality, you know, what he's like?"

"When I first saw him I took him for, hell, I don't know. He triggered something in me. Probably related to something from my past. I was sure I wouldn't like him; isn't that stupid?"

"Yes, Honey, for once I agree with you. What changed your mind?"

"His first day at work he picked me to ask out for a beer. I may be taking another shot at stupid, but it made me feel special."

"You are special, in your own special way," She said, a Cheshire grin accompanying her satire. "You guys have been doing a lot of beer drinking since you met; you must know a bit about him by now."

"I know he lives in an apartment by himself." I knew being vague would get her to ask questions.

"Did he finally move from his mom's basement to his first apartment?"

"Funny. Actually..." and this is where I had to start storytelling, "and by the way, you can't ever tell him I told you this."

"You haven't told me anything yet."

"He hasn't come right out and said it, but I think his wife left him for a black guy." That was a fantasy Susan had shared with me back when she still had a vagina. I can be sarcastic too. I knew it would tweak her interest.

"So what did he come right out and say."

"That he's divorced. When I asked if he'd like to talk about it, mostly because I knew you'd want the details, he said, 'Let me put it this way, she has a thing for black guys and didn't seem to care that I knew what she was doing. So, no, I don't want to talk about it.'"

"Wow. That's interesting. Good job honey. You brought me the juicy stuff. Sounds like he's not over it."

"He's clearly not. He tears up when he mentions her. He doesn't bring her up till we've had drinks."

"Then what does he say?"

" 'That fucking bitch,' mostly. On nights when we have to Ubber home he opens up more. He even told me he didn't mind her having lovers on the side, but one of them told her she had to stop fucking him and she did."

"Aren't you the treasure chest of filthy gossip? What else?"

"Friday you have my permission to pick away at him. I have a feeling you'll get more out of him, but don't you dare mention things you aren't supposed to know."

"Fine. Fine. What does he look like?"

"Honey, I don't want us to be people that base friendship on looks. Let's be deeper than that." You see what I did there. I had her expecting some obese or downright homely person, which isn't a put down on the less appearance oriented. It's just an acknowledgement that a handsome guy would have better luck fucking my wife, which was my objective. Bottom line, she was expecting not so pretty. "And remember, the guys a bit fragile," I told her.

"Gotcha. We'll keep the alcohol flowing and get the rest of the lurid tale."

Under other circumstances that comment would have had me reluctant to bring him over. But remember, the story I'm feeding Susan is almost exactly opposite the truth. Before you get all judgmental, I know I told serious lies to her, but it was for her own good. I knew by the time she figured it out it wouldn't matter. If what Daryl said about his cock and its affect on women was true, she'd be getting the best cock of her life and loving it.

I'd been working on Daryl too. Telling him things Susan wouldn't have wanted me sharing. I didn't make anything up though. I told him we had done a couple of threesomes many years ago and that while awkwardly fun, Susan never took to any of the guys and didn't want a repeat performance with either of them. I told him how Susan had completely lost interest in sex. Then, after telling him that, I looked him in the eye and said, "I know it will be different with you."

"Oh come on. What are you saying?"

"That my wife has lost interest in sex, and I need help getting her re-interested."

"Would this be a one-time thing?"

"I hope not. My biggest fantasy is for her to have a boyfriend that completely controls the sexual side of her life, while also encouraging her to take care of my needs."

"Well that's fucking hot."

"Wait till you see her."

"Tell me more about how this would work."

"Anytime you came over needing sex I would want her to have the attitude that I needed to sit down, shut up and stay out of the way unless allowed to watch or join in."

"I look at porn too. You want a hotwife."

"Yes, and for you to be the bull that basically owns her pussy."

"Let's do this."

I had to tell Daryl about the story I told Susan. I told him he had to play the jilted husband who's still reeling from the pain. "And by the way," I said, "I also told her your wife left you for black cock, but only because Susan has a black cock fantasy and I knew she would be intrigued and want to get more of that part of the story out of you."

Daryl said, "I'm a great story teller, I can easily fill in the blanks, or blacks as it were."

Friday came around and I left work early, getting home around four. Susan was wearing sweat pants and a sloppy blouse. "What are you going to wear tonight," I asked.

"I hadn't thought about it. What do you suggest?"

"I'm sure that Daryl, being a typical guy, would appreciate you wearing something sexy. So would I."

"I'm wearing a nice pair of gray slacks and a white blouse with maybe a couple top buttons undone. I'll wear a black bra and he'll feel special getting glimpses of it. The two of you can feel special together."

"You're too funny, but I think you'll regret not dressing sexy when you see what a lonely loser this guy is. If anybody could use a cheap thrill to perk up his outlook on life, it's him."

"You really like this guy huh?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see what I can do, and I know you'll need to get lucky later if I dress sexy. I'm sorry I haven't been to with it lately on that score."

I hadn't expected that admission. "We'll work it out," I said. I'd like to have told her a plan was already in place for resurrecting her libido.

I was tending the steaks on the patio when the doorbell rang. "Can you get that," Susan called out, "I'm getting dressed."

I opened the door to Daryl dressed the way he does when he's pussy hunting. New looking blue jeans, a thick black leather belt with matching black leather shoes, a dark plaid shirt with the top two buttons undone revealing some manly chest hair and tailored to show off his trim stomach. He had flowers and a bottle of wine.

As he entered Susan came down the hall and both of our mouths dropped open. She had a black dress on that I've never been able to get her to wear when we go out. She's says it's too short for public. She wore black stockings that I hoped were not pantyhose. Her makeup was more stunning than usual and her red lipstick really showed off her full and very kissable lips. She looked like a model with her hair falling over both sides of her shoulders. I'm not sure who was seducing whom.

She walked up to Daryl and I could see the approval in her eyes. "Are those for me?"

"Uh, yes," he said, obviously affected by Susan's beauty. I'm sure he was feeling very lucky that I wanted him to seduce my gorgeous wife. It was just a matter of time before he would be trying desperately to hide his growing hard on. I wondered if I should hand him a towel now to drape over his lap. And what the fuck was with Susan. Every since I told her about him coming for dinner she seemed to sense that a good cock was about to enter her life. Maybe her lack of interest in sex was more of a lack of interest in sex with me.

I took the flowers and wine and headed to the kitchen, setting the wine on the dining room table as I passed through and finding a vase for the flowers. I later learned that when I stepped away Susan held out her hand to shake and he lifted it, bending down to gently kiss it while maintaining eye contact the whole time. She said she could feel her face turning red and a shiver ran up her spine.

They both looked flustered when they entered the dining room, him from knowing he was going to fuck her and her from failingly trying not to want to. "Have a seat you two. Daryl, you can poor the wine and I'll grab the steaks and potatoes. Go ahead and dish up some salad."

Our plan, Daryl's and mine, was to make sure nothing happened that night, even if Susan seemed to want it to. We both thought it would be more fun to tease her first and get her to make the first move toward bedding him. It's not like he was desperate for pussy.

After small talk involving working together, Susan brought up his marital status. "So how does a handsome man like you stay single." By then we were on our third glass of social lubrication. We were finishing off the tasty syrah he had brought.

"Oh, I guess Carl told you I'm divorcing."

"Yes, I hope you don't mind that I prodded him. I like to have an idea of who he's hanging out with. I hope single life is treating you nicely."

"Yes, well, I'm a bit emotionally raw from the break up, so I haven't been dating. I really don't want another relationship, but I miss sex a lot. I'm sorry if that's too much information."

"Don't be silly, we're grownups. What would you like to happen next?"

Daryl looked at me, as if for permission to speak freely. "Go ahead, tell her what you told me." I actually had no idea what he was going to say. We were making it up as we went at that point.

"I told your husband I'd like to find a woman that was too into her career to want the confines of a relationship, but who nonetheless needed regular sex."

"Okay, I guess I asked for that. But thanks for being honest. It's refreshing."

"I try."

"Why don't you guys settle in the parlor while I clear the table. And why don't you break out that Irish you've been saving."

"I'm down to my last bottle, but this does feel like a special occasion."

Our parlor is a small cozy room, 12'X12' with comfortable chairs and a round, antique, walnut coffee table in the center. I told Daryl to have a seat while I put some soft jazz on the Bose Acoustic Wave Machine. I dimmed the lights to a comfortable glow and opened my last bottle of the smoothest 12-year whiskey I'd ever tasted. "Rocks as usual," I asked him.

"Yeah, you know what I like." Then he held up his hand and shook it saying, "Your wife is so fucking hot."

Susan walked in just catching the last part. "Is it too warm in here," she said, though I'm sure she caught the gist of what he was saying.

"No, no," Daryl stammered. "I was complimenting the music."

"Have a seat honey," I said to Susan, "I'm going to grab a bucket of ice." I left and came back. "Shit, Honey, we're out of ice. I'll run down to the corner and get some. Be right back." This was part of the plan. I wanted to see what she would do with some time alone with him.

When I got back they were both grinning. "We couldn't wait. We did a couple of shots without you."

"I'll do one and we'll all basically be on the same page." I fixed and handed them an Irish over and settled into one of the chairs. I noticed Susan had chosen to sit kitty-corner to Daryl, giving him a great view of her legs. I also noticed she had not worn pantyhose. Her dress was so short all of her stocking tops were showing and a small bit of bare thigh and garter strap. She was keeping her legs tightly closed, but that changed as the drinks poured. Susan kept the conversation focused on Daryl. She slathered him in compliments and asked what he was looking for in a career oriented sex partner. That's when he pretty much sealed the deal.

"I want a woman that looks as good as you for starters."