Huw

"No – well partly yes," Sandra corrected herself. "While we were eating he kept pressing his knee against my leg and he made sure that I knew what he'd got. You couldn't see from where you were sitting but he had his big penis on display, outlined down the inside of his thigh. I got very wet. When he left I was sure he was going to kiss me at the door. I think wanted him to but then you came after us and scared him off. I came to my senses straight away and was relieved that he'd gone."

I started to speak but Sandra held up a hand to stop me. "A couple of weeks after the dinner, when I was getting ready to go back to work for the afternoon, the doorbell rang. It was Huw and the moment I opened the door he just walked in. He didn't speak, just stood there looking at me with that confident expression on his face. I asked him what he wanted but he just laughed and said, 'You know what I want and I'm pretty sure that you want the same thing.'

My wife paused and swallowed then, looking straight in my eyes she said, "I couldn't deny that so instead I said we couldn't because I was expecting you back for your lunch. That amused him. He told me, 'Jeff will be safely tied up in a meeting until at least until four o'clock. I know because I arranged it.' I then pretended that I was expecting my parents any minute but he knew I was lying. He just grabbed my hand and pressed it against his cock and then, before I could even react, he had a hand down my top and his tongue in my mouth. When we came up for air he told me to get his penis out. I sucked it for a bit and then he fucked me."

"In our bed?"

"Of course not, I would never do that," Sandra said quickly, looking upset that I should ask. "It happened on the settee and on the floor. It took a long time to get it inside me but the second time was a lot easier. Since then I've been with him five times, twice in the evening and three times when I went to his flat instead of going in to work."

With her confession complete my wife just sat and looked at me waiting for me to speak but it was more that ten minutes before I had marshalled my thoughts enough to do so. Eventually I said, "I don't want to lose you and I can forgive you. I think we can save our marriage if you promise never to see Huw again."

"But I don't want to," Sandra protested, sending my spirits plunging.

"You don't want to try and save our marriage?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course I do, our marriage is very precious to me. You misunderstood because 'want' isn't the word I meant," she said urgently. "Even though I still love you so much, I don't think I can give him up. At this moment I need him as much as I need you."

"I still don't understand."

My tormented wife considered her words and then said slowly, "I know it can't last. It can't last mainly because of the kind of man he is but I hoped that I could have a fling and get him out of my system without you ever knowing but you've found out too soon. At the moment I can't think of anything except the way that he makes me feel. No matter what promises you get me to make I know that I won't be able to stop going to him. I've got an overwhelming craving for the sensations he gives me."

"What exactly does that mean for us?"

"I'm hoping that you love me enough to let me work through this thing. I would like to carry on with our marriage as usual but keep seeing Huw as well. I will only go with him during the day so you need not necessarily know anything about it if you don't want to."

"That is asking a lot of me," I told her honestly.

"I know but if you force me to chose between you, at this moment, I honestly don't know what I'll do."

The threat was only implied but it was there.

I am a gambling man and can almost instinctively calculate the odds against any outcome. When it comes to cards or dice I'm known to have nerves of steel so why did I suddenly feel so weak in the game of life. It was obvious that if Sandra did leave me for Huw, she would be in a real mess once he tired of her. She had no training or skill with which to earn a decent living, she would have left me possession of the house and I would undoubtedly be given custody of our two children. Logically, leaving me was not a tenable prospect and I knew that my wife was a logical woman. Unfortunately she was now in an irrational state and I had to decide whether her common sense would still prevail.

I should have told her to pack her bags and go to him if she wanted him that much and even if she begged to stay with me it should have been with the warning that any further contact with Huw would mean the inevitable end of the marriage. Unfortunately I suddenly realised that if a certain outcome is totally unacceptable then it is impossible to take the risk irrespective of the odds against it happening.

"I suppose I can give it a try," I said reluctantly and Sandra was immediately in my arms smothering my face with kisses.

"But what if people find out at my work," I said, trying to backtrack, "Huw is a bugger for bragging about his conquests. That's one of the things I dislike about him."

"He's been shagging me for two months and he hasn't said anything yet so I don't see why he should start. Anyway, if he does and you deny it then I'll back you up." Sarah said sounding unconcerned. "But if you are really worried, I'll threaten to finish with him if people find out. That will work because he's a bit besotted with me as well. Last time he said I was the best fuck he'd ever had and I think he meant it."

So I had committed myself and effectively ignored my primary rule – Make the most of strength because weakness makes it tougher. In visual terms, if you are unable to stand firm on the crest it will get harder and harder to resist as you are pushed progressively down the other side of the mountain.

Sandra rewarded me for my 'unselfish generosity' with the best sex for over three months but even as I lay basking in the post coital afterglow she began establishing the set up for her future double life. "I'll be skipping work to go round to Huw's, Petra doesn't really need me as much at the moment and we won't miss the money. When I do go, would you like me to warn you in advance or would you prefer just not to know?"

Suddenly this was real and not just theory. "I think I'd rather not know," I said, foolishly thinking that would be easier.

For the rest of the evening nothing more was said about our new arrangement. I think that I tried to pretend that nothing had changed and I can see that Sandra was afraid to add any detail that might hazard the agreement. At work I discovered the snag with remaining in the dark because any day that Huw was missing from the lunchtime game, my mind was filled with images of him and Sandra together. Typically, that first week he missed three out of five games and I undoubtedly tormented myself unnecessarily when nothing was actually happening. My work certainly suffered.

On the Thursday of the second week I went to bed feeling relaxed, partly because I had again beaten my foe in the dice showdown. After some kissing and a nice suck at her thrusting red nipples I began kissing and licking my usual path to between her legs but Sandra stopped me, saying gently, "Huw fucked me this afternoon so you may want to give that a miss tonight love. He came deep inside and even though it was nine hours ago, I think there's a lot of his stuff still up there."

Glad of the warning I immediately pulled back and instead started to move on top but she again shook her head saying, "If you don't mind I'd rather go to sleep. He did rather tire me today, the bugger's never satisfied." Understandably I got very little sleep that night with constant images and a painful erection. For some reason I convinced myself that masturbation was a kind of surrender.

This was repeated twice during the next few weeks with the difference that on the second occasion Sandra said, "You can still lick me if you want to," and when I again demurred she said, "I'll wank you if you do, you know how much you like me doing that." Despite the undoubted temptation of her offer I let my fastidious nature prevail.

Early the next week my wife asked, "Huw is busy at work all this week and can't get away so please can I see him on Friday night?"

"NO," I said, not giving her request any consideration. "It's bad enough when I can only guess, so how do you think I will feel sitting here knowing for certain that he's in the process of fucking you at that very moment."

Sandra nodded as if understanding but then said vindictively, "You know that he sends me out of my mind with pleasure so what does it matter if you know when it is happening. I would have thought you might have enjoyed the thought that someone was in the middle of fucking me better than you ever have. I've been reading that a lot of husbands do."

"I might if I really understood," I replied, stung by her implied reproach. "I only know that he has a large cock but have no idea what it looks like. Perhaps if I did I might understand a bit better why you are so addicted to it."

My wife sat and looked at me for a long moment with a thoughtful expression her face and then said, "If you let me be with Huw on Friday night I promise to post a picture of his cock to your phone."

I was about to agree when I saw the snag. "If you do that he'll realise that I know about you and him."

Sandra laughed. "He knows already. Huw said he could tell immediately you found out from the way you glared at him at work."

I was not at all happy about this but there was little that I could do except be prepared to counter any snide comments in the office.

It was strange the way that normal life carried on. The fact was that my wife's extra-marital activities were not constantly in the forefront of my mind when I had anticipated being able to think of little else. For most of the time Sandra and I went shopping, watched TV, entertained the kids and chatted much as we always had. Analysis would have shown that most of the structure of my long term happiness remained in place. However, the agreed evening liaison had the potential to alter that.

Sitting alone at home being aware that my wife was in the process of being fucked proved as bad as I had anticipated but I think I need to qualify the word 'bad'. My mind was in torment, my stomach was in the grip of severe cramp and there was also pain from my over stiff penis but my feelings of arousal were more intense than any I had previously experienced. For periods I seemed to float detached from reality in an almost out of body experience. I considered an adjustment to ease the strain on my penis but did not do so because I was afraid that the slightest touch would act as a trigger and cause me to lose these new sensations.

The ping of my cell phone brought me out of this semi trance and with trembling fingers I brought up the image Sandra had sent. Perhaps if I had watched more porn I might have been better prepared. It was more, much more than I had expected. In an instant I understood my wife's fixation. I knew that if I were female and was offered the choice of that cock or mine it would be no contest and my only concern was whether it was actually too large. It was so wide and the height filled the screen. Veins, swollen from pumping blood, were prominent down the side, and the taught skin of the cap glistened, possibly from pre-cum but I rather assumed saliva. My only problem was that the snap was taken against a blank background.

Gazing at that image only enhanced my mental movie and I quickly retuned to what I can only call my 'meditative state'. Then strangely I fell asleep, perhaps my mind was simply overwhelmed. The front door woke me and a glance at the clock told me it was 2 a.m. Sandra literally bounced in with a big smile on her face, which grew even larger when she spotted the mobile lying on the settee by my side.

"How did you like the picture," she asked happily.

"Very impressive," I admitted, "It has helped me understand why you like him so much." But then, in case I might have enthused too much, I felt the need to add, "Pity that I couldn't get any sense of scale."

Sandra immediately knew what I meant. "It would have been better with my hand in the picture wouldn't it? Never mind, I'll take care of that next Friday, which would you prefer to see, his cock actually up inside or me licking it?"

With that one sentence my wife craftily extended a one night dispensation into regular routine and I missed it completely. I think I was too busy considering my choice of images.

"Maybe I'll send you both to reward you for being so understanding and letting me see Huw tonight.

I got more than twice the time with him than usual. When I see him during the day sometimes he gets held up at work until after lunch I only get time to suck him off."

This was a bit of a shock because in my imaginations he had always been fucking her. I had naturally accepted that she would lick and suck his cock but I had never considered him cumming in her mouth.

"But usually you don't?" I asked hopefully.

"Oh no, I do it every time, I love doing it," Sandra told me without any reserve. "Then we mess about until he gets stiff again so we can fuck. It doesn't take him very long and after he has already cum once, he can keep on poking me for far longer without any worry about losing control."

"You've only ever had my cum in your mouth two or three times and that was right at the start of our marriage," I said unhappily, "You claim to still love me but it's obvious that you think more of him."

"It has nothing to do with love," Sandra told me patiently. "Your spunk has a bitter chemical taste but his is thick with a sweet creamy taste or at least my mind makes me think it has. I love looking in the mirror and seeing it coated all over my tongue."

"It's not just that. Over the years you haven't even sucked my cock all that much, certainly not every time," I complained, unwilling to abandon my sense of grievance at his apparently preferential treatment.

"Darling, that is just a fact of life and it has nothing to do with me liking him more," my wife explained patiently. "An ordinary sized penis has a function but most are not particularly appealing and a woman will only suck one for three reasons, to give the man pleasure, to get it stiff enough to fuck her and conversely to avoid being fucked. A large cock is completely different because the woman will want to suck it solely for her own pleasure. This is not just with Huw, my mouth literally waters at the sight of a large cock and most women will tell you the same."

About a month later there was a new development. Ironically it came just after I had decided that sharing my wife was not so onerous after all, with this belief undoubtedly helped by the fact that Sandra had made sure that I remained sexually very well satisfied. This night we'd messed about and I had given her a good licking but as I made to climb on top for the finale she put up her hand to stop me saying, "I'm sorry love but I don't want you to fuck me anymore, at least while I'm still seeing Huw."

It felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me. "This is his idea isn't it?" I said bitterly.

My wife quickly sat up and, grabbing my hand, said urgently, "No it isn't and you mustn't think it's so that he can be exclusive with me either. This is all me, how I feel and what I think is best for us."

"But it's the first step in stopping having sex with me altogether," I said unhappily.

"Don't be silly. I love having sex with you and the things we do, especially being licked. He doesn't do that much for some reason so I will always need your wonderful tongue. It's just having your penis inside me that's the problem. Whenever you start I wish desperately that it is his cock I am going to feel and when it isn't I resent it. Sometimes I get claustrophobic and have to struggle not to push you off. It's because I know it will end that way that I pretend to be too tired. If it wasn't for that I would have sex with you anytime."

Sandra took a deep breath and went on, "I don't honestly know why having your cock inside me should be important for you because at times it seems more like an ordeal. When you're struggling to give me an orgasm the sweat is running off you, your face gets very red and I can see from your eyes that you are nearly exhausted. That doesn't seem like enjoyment to me. On the other hand, when I play with you, it is obvious that it's pleasure all the way. Sometimes when I keep getting you to the edge and not letting you cum you get frantic with sensations. I love doing that because I have so much control over you. The moment I decide to let you, you squirt. Darling, if you agree not to fuck me anymore I can make that even better for you."

The offer was very tempting because I did get an inordinate amount of pleasure from her manual skills but those words still filled me with panic. "I just can't face the thought of never putting my cock inside you," I objected.

"Sweet heart I didn't say never. If you get really desperate to put it in then I will grit my teeth and let you but I would prefer that you didn't. Actually, after a bit I don't think you'll even want to anymore because I'll make the other thing so good. Even now I'm convinced that you have far bigger ejaculations from my hand than you ever did cumming inside me."

With that guarantee I agreed to give it a try and, over a succession of subsequent bedtimes Sandra worked hard to make me start believing that I had done quite well out of the deal but about three weeks later there was another event to trigger my latent resentment. With hints of a treat in store, my instructions were to undress and lie on the bed with my eyes closed. I obeyed and with mounting anticipation felt her climb on the bed and scramble up close to my head. "You can look now," she said with obvious excitement.

I opened my eyes to see her cunt mere inches from my face and it had been shaved bare. The sparse covering of soft brown hair that had clung to her sexual mound for the last ten years had disappeared completely and for the first time ever I saw the tempting lips of her vagina clearly delineated. My immediate reaction was one of anger. "He asked you to do this, didn't he?" I said belligerently.

My wife answered in the same tone asking, "Jeff why do you always find it so easy to believe that I've abandoned all my principles? Yes, Huw did ask me to shave down there but you did too years ago so I really did it for both of you."

This example of female logic left me momentarily lost for words and before I could speak Sandra carried on in a softer tone, "I did want to do something for Hugh and of the three things he had asked for this was the one I thought wouldn't upset you much and if you really hated it I could easily grow it back."

"What things did he want?"

"For a start he asked me to get my pussy pierced. I was rather tempted by the idea but, apart from the pain, I worried that if something went wrong my clit wouldn't work anymore."

"What else?" I prompted.

"He also wanted me to get a tattoo. It was his initials HA done in fancy script with the letters superimposed on each other. He'd actually already worked out the design on his computer and wanted me to have it put on just below the bikini line. It was small, subtle and rather attractive but I was damned if I was going to walk round with his brand on me like a succession of his other sluts."

That made me smile. "So you think of yourself as a slut?"

"I suppose I am," she said as if considering the thought for the first time but then added defiantly, "I do know that I've had a hell of a lot more fun being a slut than I ever did when I was straight."

"I actually quite like your new look," I admitted.