Letter to the Cuckold Ch. 01

I've often wondered how you felt the first time you watched me enter your wife.

Excitement, maybe? Arousal, surely. That much was evident. Did you not feel possessive as you watched my cock slide deep into her pussy and she groaned with excitement? Did you notice how much longer and thicker it was than yours? It must have been many years since you had seen her so turned-on, so wet. Maybe during your honeymoon, 15 years ago...or before that even.

You could probably smell her arousal in that small bedroom. After all, I had been playing with her for ages, easing one finger, then two, then three into her widening hole. By the time I was nudging my erection against her flesh she was already more than ready. I don't need to remind you of that.

Did you have any doubts? If so, you didn't say anything. After all you had played a role in the events which led to this point. You were with us weeks ago when the flirting began, the teasing, the playing and each little moment as we all became more and more intimate. At first it had seemed so unlikely. She was old enough to be my mother - nearly - as you liked to point out. But here we were, heading towards the inevitable.

I had never previously noticed how many photographs there were in the room. Of the both of you together. Wedding photograph, confetti freeze-framed in the air. Holiday shots, you in shorts and her in bikini, on a white beach. Skiing photographs. A dinner party snap with some of your friends.

You wanted us to do it, I'm sure. It can't have been so very surprising to find yourself watching me fuck your wife for the very first time. Instead you watched, transfixed, as she held her cunt lips apart and I eased myself into her. She was laid back on the double bed, head back, her mouth half-open and her eyes half-closed. I was between her legs, my mouth on her chest, suckling. She was wearing the same red lipstick as always, but it was smudged, smeared around her mouth, from where we had been kissing earlier. I wondered whether some of the lipstick was still on my lips.

And then in a moment she moved her hips forward as I moved by body forward. She was holding herself open, and in one stroke I was inside her. I'll admit I was in heaven. She looked so beautiful, her white thighs, pale belly and large chest pressed against the soft duvet under my thrusts. Long brown hair spread over the pillos. Her tight pussy held me in a warm, wet and surprisingly tight grip. And it was an added thrill to know that you were standing just six feet away, silhouetted by the winter sun coming through the window; still dressed, but your flies open, your cock in your hand.

I held her by the shoulders, leaning forward to kiss her neck and cheeks. I eased my right hand down to her thick pubic hair, seeking out her clit, and stroked the hard little nub as I eased myself in and out. Our motion was purposeful but slow. I think that she and I both wanted to savour it, to make it last a long time.

If you were jealous you didn't show it. I suppose these things are incremental. Perhaps the biggest shock to you had been weeks before when your wife and I first kissed, in front of you, our tongues deep inside each other's mouths. That must have been exciting to watch. Or that morning at breakfast, a few days later, when Margaret removed her top, and then her bra, offering her generous nipples for me to suck - while you ate your toast and marmalade at the other side of the table. Do you remember how stiff her teats were? You showed no emotion at the time, but you must have been churning inside.

And all those other moments which - in retrospect - were just staging posts towards this act. The first time she tentatively touched my cock, the first time I tasted her pussy,

the first time I licked her out. But this, watching her get screwed, was the peak, or so you thought. You watched patiently for five minutes, maybe 10 minutes, which showed remarkable restraint. Your hand, moving up and down your stem, as you followed us with your eyes. I wonder if you felt jealous, watching my young, toned body, such a contrast to your flabby middle-aged spread. You carried on masturbating until your cock was swollen, so swollen. And then you joined in.

As you approached the bed Margaret looked up at you and opened her mouth further, knowing what was coming next. She dutifully took you between her lips. She had her husband's tool in her mouth, rock-hard with excitement, while her pupusy was impaled on her younger lover's cock. My cock. There was a pink flush around her neck. I

knew from previous occasions what that meant; that she was close to her moment or orgasm. I could hear three voices, all breathing heavily, tightly. In that small, quiet room, the window closed, no music on; that was the only sound bar the slurping noise as my erection sawed in and out of your wife's slippery womb.

I wondered what your other neighbours were up to right now. George and Hannah, to the left. Were they cooking dinner or watching TV with the kids? I was glad that both of your children were away for the weekend, leaving us free to play.

You were first to come. I didn't see it, of course, because Margaret was still blowing you, but I saw your face contort with pleasure, saw you grip your wife's head with your hands as you emptied yourself into her throat. And as you withdrew, stepping back, I could see the white liquid dribbling out of her mouth and down

her chin. That was probably the trigger for us. I knew Margaret wanted me to come because she started to squeeze my cock tight, I felt the determined pulses of pressure around my hard-on. And she began to grip my back hard with her finger-nails. Her eyes were open now, oblivious to you, watching my face. She wanted to see the ecstacy on my face as she took me over the edge.

To her you had already become almost an irrevelance. That was obvious. It sounds like hindsight but it is not. I didn't know how things would be now; that she and I would be sharing your marital bed, that you would be sleeping on the couch downstairs. None of us could have known then that this was the point when you were to be demoted within your own household - replaced by me.

But I knew that something had changed. For good. Smugly, you still thought that you - the 40-something man of the house - was merely giving his wife a treat; the 30-year old neighbour, young, dumb and full of come, for her

happiness. You didn't know that I had decided that I wanted her for myself. At least for a while.

If you wanted her you would have to share her. To have my leftovers. From now on.

I leant forward to kiss Margaret full on the lips as she continued to squeeze me, urging me to ejaculate inside her cunt. I loved the way her tongue probed deep inside my mouth, almost in time with the thrusts of my cock.

"Are you almost there," I asked. "I want us to come together." She threw her head back

into the pillow as I accelerated my pumping, faster, harder and deeper inside her. I knew she was always vocal when she reached her limit, but I'd never heard such a loud come. She groaned with happiness, urging me to keep going, to do her harder, to give her more, as I gave a few final thrusts and released my seed deep into her. As I felt the spasms in my cock I held her deeply, gripping her hard, as if absorbing her into my own body.

Perhaps you did realise the significance of the moment, because when we looked up you were no longer in the room. You returned, a while later, with a tray and three mugs of steaming tea. Your wife was draped over me, her head on my chest.

What I said seemed to surprise you: "Thanks John, me and Margaret will drink our tea in bed. You can go next door."

You looked at me as if I was joking, as if there was a punchline to follow. But Margaret knew I was serious. "You heard him," she said. "Why don't you come back a bit later? James and I have got some things to talk about."

You delayed, a few seconds longer, unsure of what was going on. There was a flush of anger in your face. But I'm bigger, younger and stronger than you. There was never going to be a fight, was there?

I decided to be honest. "The truth is, I want to do your wife again, but without you in the room. You can listen from outside but we don't want you in here." Your face was dumbfounded but you knew when you were defeated. You closed the door behind you. There were no footsteps. I could sense you lurking in the corridor outside.

I knew you were still listening as I told Margaret what was going to happen next. "Get on your hands and knees," I told her. "I want to lick out your pussy and arsehole, and then fuck you for hours." She did as she was told, shifting her body so that her head was in the pillow and large bottom was pointing up towards the ceiling. She held her buttocks open, waiting to feel my tongue on her two holes.

"You can forget about John now," I told her. "Now I'm giving the orders. Later, I might let him join in. But for now it's just you and me." I felt her tense as I ran my tongue down her spine, towards her bum. As I started to lick her arsehole, I felt her push it hard against my mouth, urging me into her.

"Who do you belong to now?" I asked. Her soft voice came back to me. "You, James, not John, I'm all yours now."