Irene and the New Young Neighbor Pt. 03

Author's Note:

This is a cuckold story told through an initially reluctant wife's point of view. The husband and wife are an older (47 yo) Spanish couple living in Barcelona when a handsome 18-year-old man moves in next door. The story is slow in the beginning to build up the romance between the wife and her lover, so if you are looking for a quick fix, this may not be for you. For anyone still interested, I hope you enjoy.

Recap:

Part 1 - Irene and Oscar (both 47 yo) are a Spanish married couple living in an apartment in Barcelona, Spain with two daughters. A young 18 year old neighbor, Marco moves in to the apartment next door. Irene and Marco soon become friends, sharing meals and working out at the gym together. After a while, Irene begins an affair with Marco, which her husband, Oscar, accepts, if not encourages outright.

Part 2 - Marco is invited to the 18^th birthday party for Irene's youngest daughter. During the party, Irene's daughter flirts with Marco, which makes Irene jealous, and she visits Marco in his next-door apartment later that night. Afterward, Irene returns to her husband, Oscar, who overheard Marco making love to his wife minutes earlier, and Oscar proceeds to clean his wife's freshly fucked pussy.

******

I spent the next day in a haze, trying to make sense of everything that happened the night before. I had started an affair with our young neighbor, Marco. Although he was only 18 years old, he ignited a passion in me, even though I am almost 30 years older than him. What originally started off as a matriarchal relationship had blossomed into playful flirting and then a full blown sex affair. It left me questioning myself. I was a 47-year-old married mother of two daughters, always faithful to my husband and my motherly duties for the past 20 years, and now, here I was, carrying on an affair with someone young enough to be my son.

Both of my daughters, Ana and Lucia, are close in age to Marco, and when I saw them openly flirting with him at Ana's 18^th birthday party, I became possessive and jealous. After the party, I threw my body at Marco, seeking validation that he still found me attractive and didn't prefer my younger, prettier, flirtatious daughters. That said, I couldn't blame my daughters for flirting with Marco. After all, he is young, intelligent, and handsome. It is only natural they should find him attractive. In fact, if I was not involved with him, I might even be thrilled if he were their boyfriend. But my daughters have no idea that I am having an affair with him, and I would be ashamed if they knew.

Even more than my relationship with Marco, my confusion is sowed by my relationship with my husband. For over 20 years, we have been husband and wife. Together, we have built a nice, comfortable life, and I thought I knew my husband like the back of my hand, but his actions lately have left me questioning if he is the same man that I married.

As soon as Marco came into our lives, my husband has encouraged me to spend time with him. It is almost as if he is pushing me to him. At first, it seemed like maybe he was just being neighborly by welcoming Marco to our house for dinner or allowing us to work out together at the gym. But, after seeing Marco and myself grow closer, he continued to encourage me to see how far I could take my relationship with Marco. I admit, I was smitten with Marco and easily convinced to do so, but Oscar has shown no jealousy of my relationship, no possessiveness of his own wife. Quite the opposite, he seems to be pushing me to Marco, and his lack of concern has left me confused.

And then last night, I returned to our marital bed after making love to Marco, and Oscar proceeded to orally service me, even though I was soiled below with Marco's seed. By the end, he was so turned on by eating Marco's cum from me while I sat on his face that he orgasmed, even though I never touched him.

How can a man just roll over and let another man take his wife like that? Does he not have any pride? I would think he is not interested in me if that is the case, yet he seemed to get as much pleasure out of orally satisfying me as I did from receiving his oral stimulation. He even seemed to be more turned on by the fact that I had just been with Marco and was filled with his seed.

All day at work I was in a haze. After I returned home, dinner passed in a blur, and we barely even spoke at the dinner table. I retired early to our bedroom thinking that maybe I just needed to rest, but Oscar also came to bed early, and we ended up talking.

"Irene," Oscar began. "We should talk."

I couldn't disagree with that statement, but I just stared at him, waiting for him to start.

Oscar sighed deeply and then began speaking. "I love you. More than ever, I love you. I need you to know that."

"So, you push me to sleep with our neighbor. Do you not feel humiliation?" I protested.

"More than anything else, I want to see you happy. Can you deny that you enjoy Marco's company?" Oscar inquired.

"I cannot," I begrudgingly admitted.

"Do you know what the sexiest thing in the world to me is?" Oscar asked.

I shrugged, feeling as if I didn't know my husband at all any longer.

"It is to see you happy," he explained. "To see you with a passion and fire. When you are around Marco, I hear the excitement in your voice. I see how your eyes light up. Maybe long, long ago you felt that way for me. I'm not even sure anymore. But I know during sex I am not satisfying to you. Do you deny this?"

I shook my head, unable to refute his assertion.

"What is it about Marco that is different than with me?" he continued. "Perhaps I should be the one asking questions."

My voice almost dropped to a whisper and I hung my head. "He is large. You are the only man I have been with, so I did not know. But I feel much more with him. It - your penis, it is not big enough," I admitted apologetically.

Oscar's body seemed to shrink before my eyes as I said those words. He slowly nodded his head in understanding as he digested my words before responding.

"So, I see the connection, the attraction you have with Marco. I see you happy, and how can I deny the woman I love happiness when I am, as you say, physically incapable of making you happy?"

I was visibly shaken. "Oscar, we have been married for 20 years. If you did not make me happy, I would long ago leave you."

"Can I make you happy and bring you the pleasure that Marco does?" he asked openly.

"No, but I don't understand. What is it you want? Do you want me to leave you for him?" I responded in exasperation.

"Of course not. You are my wife. But I can accept that there is a happiness that Marco brings you that I cannot. I can accept your relationship with him if it makes you happy."

"Perhaps it is one thing to accept it," I retorted. "But last night, you knew I had been with him. And still, you - you cleaned him from me. And that turned you on. It is one thing to turn a blind eye to my relationship with Marco. It is another to do as you did last night."

Oscar gulped and took a deep breath before responding, clearly choosing his words carefully. "I heard you with Marco last night. I already told you that. I heard how excited he made you. I heard you orgasm, and it turned me on. As I told you, my biggest turn on is seeing your happiness, and I wanted to see it for myself. That is why I went down on you. I wanted to see, I needed to see the evidence of your orgasm. Last night was the first time I brought you to an orgasm myself, even if it is using my mouth because I cannot do so with my cock. And I was so happy I made you cum, even if it is not with my penis, that I orgasmed, also."

"So where does that leave you? Is there someone else you want to have an affair with? Like a tit for tat?" I wondered, still trying to understand my husband's motivation.

"I am not seeking to have my own affair. As I said, I can accept your relationship with him if it makes you happy. That is enough for me," he insisted.

"And what does that mean?"

"It means you should pursue your relationship with Marco," Oscar continued. "Our daughters must be protected, of course. They should not know. But maybe we can, I don't know, have a little holiday."

"What kind of holiday?" I asked, unsure what Oscar was suggesting.

"Maybe to the beach for the weekend. Rent a room right on the beach. You, me, and Marco," he explained.

I had to admit the thought appealed to me. Suddenly, all I could think about was spending the day at the beach with Marco.

"And you will not be jealous of Marco on this so-called holiday?" I asked suspiciously.

Oscar smiled. "If you are happy, then I am happy. But does Marco know that I know of your affair?"

"No, he does not," I said as I lowered my head.

"It is okay. Do not tell him, but why don't you invite him for this weekend? The girls can stay with their cousins. I will make the arrangements," Oscar suggested.

"What will we tell the girls? They will wonder why we go on holiday with our neighbor, won't they? Especially since they have their own attraction to him, as you saw last night."

"We don't tell them," Oscar flatly replied.

We retired to bed shortly after, but my mind raced with thoughts of spending the weekend with Marco. Truth be told, all my imaginations were of being with Marco, and I felt guilty wishing that my husband is not there. It was one thing to carry on my affair behind closed doors, but I could not carry on my affair openly with Oscar there. I tempered my initial excitement as I realized that what I really wanted, to spend a weekend alone with and making love to Marco, would not happen. I finally decided I should be happy to have Oscar so accepting of my relationship with Marco and that it would all sort itself out in due time.

*******

"I would love to spend a holiday with you. Wait, just us?"

I had just invited Marco to come with us to the beach.

"No, not just us," I clarified.

"That is okay. You have a lovely family. I am honored you would invite me to spend time with them," Marco responded.

"Actually, our daughters, they will be with their cousins. It will be just you, me, and Oscar," I awkwardly explained.

Marco's face filled with apprehension. "Irene. I am sleeping with you, his wife. Besides, why would he invite me?"

"Marco, he insists you come. You are almost like family to him, like the son he never had," I said, unable to admit to him that Oscar knew and approved of our affair.

"So, he trusts me, and I betray his trust by sleeping with you," Marco posited.

"Please Marco. If not for him, then, please, come for me," I insisted pleadingly.

I saw the guilt trip I laid weighing heavily upon him as he reconsidered his response.

"I feel this is a bad idea, and I will regret it, but I cannot tell you no," he finally relented.

My heart soared. I was elated, and I couldn't hide a silly grin as I excitedly told him, "We leave Saturday after breakfast. We will stay overnight. Oscar has made the arrangements. Just pack a bag."

Marco nodded his understanding, and then turned to close his front door, clearly still processing how the weekend might play out.

*****

Marco and I traded many secret text messages in the days leading up to Saturday. Both of us were eager to spend the weekend together, but Marco was uncertain to have Oscar there with us.

Ana and Lucia went to their cousin's house on Friday night, so Oscar and I woke up on Saturday, and packed our bags in the car. Marco joined us carrying a backpack for his supplies, and then we were on our way.

The conversation in the car was stifled and awkward. Oscar was driving, and he repeatedly tried to start the conversation, but Marco only offered muted responses.

"Have you been to the beaches in Castellon before?" Oscar asked.

"No, my family always went to the Atlantic beaches, not the Mediterranean," Marco responded, not offering any further details.

"We have many beautiful beaches in Barcelona," I asked, wondering aloud why we were driving so far out of the city.

"Barcelonetta and the others near the city are far too crowded," Oscar scoffed. "Too many tourists. Besides, we have been to all of those. Let us drive just a little to better enjoy someplace new."

The drive from Barcelona was about three and a half hours to Castellon, and we enjoyed the beautiful seaside and countryside scenery as we travelled, which helped pass the time, and soon we arrived at our destination. As uncomfortable as the conversation was, I was filled with a great anticipation. I felt Marco's presence, and I longed to be held in his arms, and I tingled with excitement, even though I had no idea how we would find any time alone together, but I assumed (and hoped) perhaps opportunities might present themselves.

We found a nice spot along the beach and then set up our chairs and umbrella. It had rained earlier in the morning, which seemingly scared some folks away, so the beach was only sparsely populated, although people were starting to stream in. It was a little early for lunch, or la comida, but I was feeling fun and flirty.

"Oscar, don't you think some drinks would be perfect? Perhaps a round of agua de valencia? Could you get some for us?" I casually asked.

Oscar eyed me warily, but he begrudgingly grunted his agreement and got up. I realized after I made my request, he probably relished some relaxation after the drive and lugging our supplies from the car to our spot. He had barely had a respite before I interrupted, but Oscar saw a vendor off in the distance, and he started trudging off in that direction.

I looked around the beach, and I was suddenly filled with misgivings and self-doubt. When I was alone with Marco, he made me feel like the most desirable woman in the world. But now I saw so many young and beautiful woman, I could not imagine how I could compete with the scenery. I wondered if I would lose Marco's attention. In comparing Marco to all of the guys at the beach, he is the most handsome and attractive. I only wish I could say the same for myself. I am 5'3" and 152 pounds. I am a 47-year-old woman, and I look my age. I saw so many statuesque women before my eyes, many of them taller than me, and so many of them skinnier than I am.

I noticed other women, such as myself also at the beach. A little older, a little more meat on the bone, as they say. I imagined to others that I looked as they did... invisible. They just faded into the background. There, but not noteworthy, not eye-catching, just in the background. Normally, I hate being the center of attention and a level of anonymity suits me just fine, but I realized how different Marco and I appeared on the beach. He didn't disappear into the background. He stood out, and I felt foolish, wondering all over again what it was that Marco saw in me.

I looked up at the sun beating down. It was just past noon, but it was already sweltering and would only continue to get hotter. I didn't want to roast and turn into a sore reddened tomato.

"Marco, I burn so easily. Would you mind to spread some lotion on my back?" I asked him, hoping I might at least momentarily distract his eyes from the other beauties on the beach.

"Of course," he answered, immediately jumping to his feet.

I had changed into my swimsuit before we left, and I rode in the car with a cloth wrap. I had worn a two-piece string bikini, originally thinking that Marco would enjoy seeing me in it, but now I felt a twinge of regret as I pulled the wrap off. I saw the younger skinnier girls scattered across the beach in their thongs and sunbathing topless and was filled with insecurity over my own imperfections and flaws.

As I stared across the landscape, a glob of lotion was squirted on my back.

Marco's head brushed against my hair as he whispered in my ear, "You don't know how I have longed to touch you again."

His voice reassured me, and I turned to look at him with a big silly grin. "You are sure you do not want the younger girls closer to your age here at the beach?" I asked.

"I have already tried you on," Marco laughed. "And you fit me just right."

"I am old enough to be your mother," I lamented.

"Does my age bother you?"

"No, of course not," I sighed.

"Then why should it be any different for me?"

I stopped arguing, half afraid I might succeed in convincing Marco to lose interest in me. I pressed my beach chair flat and then laid down on my stomach as Marco started spreading the lotion on my back. He generously applied it on my backside and gave me a nice massage at the same time.

"You are tense. You should relax. We are on holiday, after all," he told me.

He was right, I thought to myself. If Marco does chase after the young beach beautifies, there is nothing I can do about it, so I decided I may as well enjoy myself.

"I am sorry," I finally replied. "It was a long week at work, but thank you for the massage. You are right. We are at the beach. I should relax to enjoy the sand and sea."

"And what about your front?" Marco asked as he finished applying the sunscreen to my backside.

"If you like," I smiled back at him as I turned over.

Marco proceeded to spread lotion

"Will you bathe topless, also?" Marco asked.

"Would you like?" I teased him.

Marco nodded. "I would like very much, but you don't want to get burned there, either, if you do."

He proceeded to lower my top as I sat in my chair, exposing my breasts. Then he squirted the lotion onto them, and massaged them slowly and sensually, making a point to pinch my large nipples between his fingers as he finished. I remained still on my beach chair as Marco openly fondled my breasts in public.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Oscar down the way, looking back at us. I pretended not to notice him, but I wondered how much he had seen.

"Your legs are not done yet, either, correct?" Marco asked.

"No, they are not," I admitted, my body already shaking in anticipation.

Marco started at my feet, massaging them and slowly spreading the lotion over every inch of me. He took his time, gingerly working his way up each leg. It played out like a slow tease as he covered every inch of exposed skin right up to my bikini briefs. As he inched closer and closer to my private areas, I became more and more aroused, the anticipation mounting. I longed for him to touch my most private regions, even as we sat there on the beach surrounded by hundreds of people. He had me under his spell, and I was so turned on, I would not have protested if his hands wandered under my bikini bottom, but he remained a gentleman and preserved my modesty.

"This is not a nude beach, otherwise, I would lotion under your panties, as well," Marco smiled as he finished up.

"That is the only part of my body untouched by you this morning. And somehow, it is the part you have had the greatest effect," I pointed out, aware that I was almost dripping like a faucet by this point.

"I am happy to be of service," he replied with a cheeky grin.

"I may need to reapply lotion every half hour," I teased him.

"Don't worry, we will find other games we can play," Marco responded.

I had glanced back to Oscar occasionally, and he remained off in the distance, watching us curiously. Finally, he marched off, and then a while later, he returned with our drinks.

I had fixed my top back on before he returned.

The time passed uneventfully. I mostly relaxed on the beach chair, soaking in the sun while reading a book. Marco and Oscar wandered into the surf occasionally. At one point, some college aged looking ladies wandered over and addressed me while Marco sat to my right.

"Excuse me, but we need one more for our game. Would your son like to play volleyball with us?"

Marco was too shy to correct them, but he politely accepted their invitation. I looked on in dismay to these women in their skimpy thong two-piece bikinis looked impossibly fit with curves in all the right places.