Life Ashore

Note. This is undoubtedly a cuckold story but I see it as fairly light hearted. Some may be interested to know that there is a large element of truth in the tale.

*

Carol and I first got together when we were both aged twenty-one and in our final year at music college. She was being trained in piano up to symphony concert standard while I was mastering drums, vibes and basic guitar. I am 5' 9" tall with a wiry build but generally pretty ordinary and consider myself very lucky to have captured such a prize because, although four inches shorter than I, Carol has a stunning nicely rounded but slim figure, an angelic face and shoulder length pale blonde hair. Upon qualification we both gained employment working for P & O providing musical entertainment on their cruise liners and got married mainly to make this possible.

In many ways our four years aboard were an idyllic existence but there were drawbacks and sacrifices to be made, primary amongst these the fact that as crew we only had a cramped cabin with narrow bunk beds. Our mornings were free but from noon we often put in a twelve hour day. While on board, cramped conditions, tiredness and the stuffiness of the cabin in warmer latitudes meant that, apart from quickies, full penetrative sex between us was fairly irregular.

The compensation was that, over the four years, we made love in many of what must be the most exotic and romantic spots in the world. During that time Carol received many invitations to spend the night in the luxurious staterooms of rich male passengers but she always declined, despite the promised extra inducement of expensive presents.

With little opportunity to spend our salaries we accumulated a nice nest egg and the time came when we felt we had sufficient to set ourselves up for life on shore. We were both qualified to teach and so hoped to build up our own clientele of private pupils. Had we gone for an average house we could have managed an easy mortgage with a sufficient cushion left over to protect until our incomes became established but instead we bought a large four bedroom detached house in a very good area.

Although it was badly run down all our cash went on the deposit and we were still left with a frightening mortgage to pay. It had been owned by an old lady who had lived there for fifty years and had rather let the property deteriorate. The reasons for buying seemed good at the time. It was an undoubted bargain compared to the potential value, there was plenty of space for us each to have our own tuition areas, there were no close neighbours to be irritated by the sound of our pupils musical efforts and the area should hold plenty of affluent parents able to indulge the hoped for talent of their offspring.

We probably would not have committed ourselves so heavily if Carol had not been promised regular well paid concert work in the nearby city and I had my own hopes of occasional but lucrative gigs. Playing safe, I also started teaching music at the local school but, to leave me free to resign at any time, I signed up on term by term contracts which meant that I wasn't paid during school holidays.

We took possession on a bitterly cold day in early January. The house had been commercially cleaned with the cost charged against the old ladies estate but was otherwise completely empty and we were there to admit carpet layers, furniture deliveries and men to reconnect gas and electricity supplies. Within the first hour a neighbour turned up. He said his name was Jim and he arrived bearing a large flask of coffee and two mugs. In his early fifties he was about six feet tall and solidly but not heavily built. His full head of hair was dark and waved with distinguished white flashes at the temples set of by a slight tan. It was obvious from his confident assurance that he was used to wielding authority but he had an easy going humorous demeanour.

In a self depreciating way Jim explained that he owned an engineering firm but had organised himself into redundancy and now only showed his face occasionally. Throughout the day he kept both us and the various workmen supplied with refreshment and even took Carol and I round to his house for a warm lunch of delicious soup and hot buttered baguettes.

On one of the occasions when he was in our house, Jim pointed at the strips of hanging wallpaper and areas of bulging plaster, remarking that we had taken rather a lot on and saying that he would pop over to give us a hand. It seemed like an idle promise but early the next day he turned up with the full kit, electric drills and saws, steam strippers, portable work bench and a large tool chest on wheels. It took him two trips to get it all over.

It turned out that he could plaster, hang wallpaper and do carpentry to a professional standard, so for countless hours over the next month, Carol and I were willing labourers for his craftsman role. Brushing aside our protestations of gratitude, Jim explained that he enjoyed getting his hands dirty occasionally as it reminded him of his beginnings.

Towards the end of the month, Jim said we deserved a treat and invited us for a meal at his house on the Saturday evening. The food that he had prepared himself to cordon bleu standard was truly delicious and supported by wine of a quality far beyond our pocket. After eating Jim asked Carol to dance. I don't dance being more used to providing the music for dancers but my wife had learned at college. Of course, as with everything he seemed to do, Jim was a master. People rave about dirty dancing but I found classical ballroom done properly to be far more erotic.

His right hand never moved from the small of her back and his left properly supported hers in the air to the side but as they moved smoothly round the floor in unison, their lower bodies were so close they might have been welded together and on the tight turns when his leg moved naturally between hers, her groin seemed glued to his thigh. I felt a surge of jealousy at how good they looked together but on returning her to my side he politely thanked me for allowing him the pleasure. As we departed, Jim contented himself with giving Carol a modest peck on the cheek and it was she who spontaneously threw her arms round him to deliver a grateful hug.

Jim continued to be useful if not essential to our wellbeing in the year that followed and his Saturday evening dinners for us became a monthly event. I had bought a cheap second hand car to get me to school and on my first morning back after the Easter holiday the damn thing wouldn't start. However, I had hardly lifted the bonnet to gaze helplessly at the mystery beneath before Jim appeared to quickly diagnose the problem and get me on my way.

Then, barely a week later had I managed to put a nail through a water pipe. Leaving Carol with her thumb on the hole, I dashed round to ask Jim if he had the number of a plumber. "Have you turned off the water at the stop-cock?" he immediately asked, to which I had to admit that I didn't know what a stop-cock was. Shaking his head he grabbed a bag containing his plumbing kit and we ran back to my house where he efficiently stopped the flow.

We found Carol with water running down her face and her clothes completely soaked. Without asking me Jim got a large bath sheet from the bathroom, held it up and ordered Carol to undress completely. She hesitated, looking at me but he insisted firmly, "Come on, don't be shy, I promise I won't look." He did look and was quite blatant about it but in the circumstances I could hardly begrudge him a quick flash of my lovely wife's naked body.

Jim's advice and assistance continued but it was not until early February the next year that he really saved us from disaster. Carol's concert engagements had proved fewer than expected, I had been on no gigs at all and usual Xmas expenses fell at a time when the holidays meant no income at all for nearly a month. There had been three interest rises during the year, our credit cards were maxed out and some 0% furniture deals were falling due. The final straw was a horrendous bill to get my wreck of a car through its MOT. Jim found me at a table strewn with bills, tearing my hair at the yawning gap between cash available and money due for repayment.

He quickly took charge, went meticulously through all my papers and said our only hope was a consolidation loan but truthfully explaining that this would cause both increased debt and for longer but would also mean repayments I could handle more easily. He went on to say that although there were firms offering consolidation services they charged an arm and a leg for the privilege and that he was able to offer a loan of £10,000 over ten years. "It's not charity because I will be charging you bank rate but it's still a damn sight cheaper than you'll get elsewhere," he said. We both wanted to throw our arms round him ingratitude -- I think Carol did.

About two weeks later I was over at Jim's house for some reason when he suddenly said, "I'd like to ask you a favour."

At last this was a chance to repay some part of our large obligation to this man so I said, "Just name it. You only have to say and it's yours."

He laughed. "The first lesson of life; Never make a promise to anyone until you know what it entails."

"All right," I said laughing back, "Tell me what you want and I'll consider it."

"I'd like to borrow your wife for two or three hours occasionally, say once a fortnight," he said. I was taken completely by surprise and immediately wondered what he had in mind, secretarial work, her musical ability or even housework at his place.

"I'd want her to share my bed," he told me bluntly. Time seemed to stand still and for a moment I was unable to speak. "Feel free to refuse, I will understand and there'll be no hard feelings," he hastened on to add.

"I don't know how you can ask that," I finally blurted out.

"I can ask because you might say Yes and if I didn't ask I'd never know," he said calmly.

"But surely no husband who really loved his wife would ever agree," I protested.

"Not necessarily so," he countered patiently. "Sex is essentially a basic act but it can vary enormously in context. On one side you have the couple who treat sex as an exclusive almost religious act and 'cleave to each other forsaking all others' as it says in the bible but at the other end of the spectrum are escorts who meet someone, enjoy glorious physical pleasure for a few hours and then never see that person again. Most couples are somewhere in the middle, sometimes 'making love' but at other times just fucking for the fun of it - and a few of these occasionally allow others to join in for the pleasure only fucks."

"That has got to be the fast track to the divorce court."

"Quite the contrary," Jim said confidently, "I know too many examples where an out of character pointless one-off fling has ruined a loving marriage when a more open relationship would have survived."

"I'm really sorry but despite what you just said my answer has to be NO," I told him and waited his reaction.

Surprisingly he shook my hand. "I can't say that I'm not disappointed but I admire you having the courage of your convictions. I think that a lesser man might have felt intimidated."

I hurried home and reported the whole conversation to Carol, word for word. At first she was smiling and I could see she was flattered but then her face turned serious. "This is really awkward," she said when I'd finished. "After all that he's done for us, then the only thing he ever asks in return and we have to refuse him. I'm going to feel so guilty and embarrassed next time I see him."

"I know we're deeply in his debt but it was too much for him to expect."

"I agree it was too much and you gave him the right answer but all the same, Jim obviously didn't think it was too much to expect and he's not an irrational man."

The conversation petered out and the subject wasn't raised again for another three days. Strangely there had been no sight of Jim although I doubt if we had previously gone even a couple of days without seeing him since we first moved into the house. Neither had we made love as if doing so would raise the topic we were both trying to avoid. Just before bedtime it was Carol who cracked, "I'm feeling really really rotten about Jim. He's been so good to us. I keep asking myself if we're being terribly mean and selfish."

My own feelings were very ambivalent with the emotion of guilt sometimes a palpable pain, so I was happy to see were she was going with this. "Are you saying we should change our minds? "I asked, giving her the opening."

"No I'm not," she answered quickly, "But all the same."

"What?"

"I keep wondering what it would entail. I mean you're not exactly overflowing with energy and he's more than twice our age. If I did have sex with Jim it would probably be over very quickly. He must get very lonely over there by himself and I can see him wanting female companionship far more than actual sex. I imagine we'll spend the time talking rather than actually fucking."

"That sounds as if you've almost decided to do it."

"You're the husband so it's up to you not me -- but I'm not bothered which way you decide."

"I'm not sure I wouldn't get too jealous while you were with him," I said honestly.

Carol laughed. "Remember that muscle guy who worked in the gym, the one who was chasing me all that last cruise. If it was him I was going with I could understand you being jealous but you like Jim almost as much as I do. Didn't you once say he was like a father figure?"

"OK, you can go with him once to see what it's like," I conceded, "We do owe him at least that much."

Just the weight lifted from my conscience gave me a light-headed feeling but there was also dread at the Pandora's box this might open. And mixed in with this I cannot deny a small thrill of arousal. Carol only nodded. I was unable to read the emotion on her face and if she was feeling excitement she managed to hide it. The uninhibited sex that followed definitely fell into the fun fuck category.

I gave the news to Jim the next day. He pumped my hand in both of his, promising that I wouldn't regret my change of mind. "You may not realise but you are opening your life to a whole new dimension," he told me sincerely. I said that Carol would come to his house at 9 p.m. that evening but I would expect her back before midnight. "Like Cinderella," he said laughing. I smiled at his poor joke but I wasn't in a very humorous mood.

My wife always looked nice and I hoped she would just go next door casually at the appointed time but instead she made major preparations including squandering her hoarded bath oils. She also wore her sexiest underwear. I was not spying in fact I tried to remain strictly uninvolved but she kept dashing about only partly dressed as she excitedly got herself ready.

My growing despondency was only alleviated just prior to her leaving when she took me in her arms, delivered a long loving kiss and said, "Remember that I love you and I always will. This isn't going to change us in the slightest, I promise. I won't let it." Strangely, once she had gone I felt relaxed and even got involved in a film. It was only in the last hour that I became anxious with my mind dwelling on what must have occurred next door.

Carol got home in time to avoid her clothes turning into to rags by barely a minute. Her face seemed to glow. "So how was it?" I asked, adopting a sympathetic tone off voice.

"I've had a wonderful time," she enthused happily, which was hardly what I was hoping to hear. "I was quite wrong about him getting tired quickly; of the three hours I was there we must have spent at least two fucking and you won't believe the size of his cock, it's really gorgeous, about two inches longer than yours and much thicker. I told Jim it looked huge but he said it's only eight inches and many men have one much larger."

"Did he make you cum?"

Carol nodded her head enthusiastically. "Lots and lots of times." But then, seeing the look on my face, she went on, "Not that that means anything. I read somewhere that women always cum more with a lover than with their husbands, it's a genetic programming thing."

"So it had nothing to do with his oversized penis," I said bitterly.

"That may have helped," Carol said honestly, "But I had two orgasms long before he ever put it in me. He just knows how to do all the right things. At the start he spent a whole half an hour getting me in the mood and by the end I was going crazy wanting the fucking to start. When he did put it in I felt really stretched but he took it real slow for a long time until I got used to him. After he had cum the first time it only took fifteen minutes before he was ready to go again but I helped by sucking him stiff. The second fuck was the best. He did everything he knew, it seemed to go on and on and at times he had me almost delirious with pleasure. I can hardly wait until I'm with him again."

"I thought I'd only agreed to one time," I objected.

My interruption stopped Carol for a moment. "I think you may be right," she admitted thinking back, "But Jim certainly thought it was going to be a regular thing and anyway, I've already agreed to go with him again in two weeks."

I was very unhappy but I didn't make an issue of it. My higher priority was to gain relief for my now achingly stiff dick and to symbolically reclaim my wife after her infidelity, but as I tried to bustle her towards the bedroom, Carol said, "Don't think you're going to have me when we get upstairs. "I promise I'll reward you tomorrow, we can stay in bed doing it all day if you want but I just can't have sex with two different men one after another the same day, I'd feel such a slut if I did. Anyway, I'm going to have a shower right now."

After a sleepless night with my brain filled with images, Carol fulfilled her promise with great enthusiasm. I actually managed to perform twice but in my case the recovery time was nearer to two hours. Despite this I still had not resigned myself to Carol going with Jim again. If it had been a pity fuck or even from a sense of obligation I would not have minded continuing contact between them but what upset me was that after a year of watching Jim doing everything with more skill than me I was now faced with the fact that he could also fuck my wife far better than I ever had.

By the next weekend I still hadn't thought of a way out but a phone call suggested a strategy that was to badly backfire. On the Saturday my mother rang to announce sarcastically, "I'm not dead in case you wondered." I immediately apologised for being remiss and said we would visit for the weekend, promising to drive up the next Friday. Returning from the phone, I 'innocently' told Carol the news.

"We can't go, haven't you forgotten I'm seeing Jim on Friday night," she said with almost a look of panic on her face.

"You'll just have to cancel Jim because I'm certainly not giving back word to my mother."

"Like hell I will, you'll just have to visit your bloody parents on your own," she said angrily. But then, as I struggled to reply she went on more calmly, "Actually it all works out perfectly. You can drive there by yourself on Friday and I'll catch a bus up Saturday morning, you can tell your folks I had a sudden concert booking. This is far better because it means I can spend the whole night with him and be far more relaxed without the need to fuck every available second."

There was nothing I could say but I had effectively managed to turn a three hour date into one lasting from four in the afternoon to nine the next morning. As it turned out it was all relatively painless. For a start Carol was extra loving during the following days, giving me almost more sex than I could handle up until the Thursday night. We were lying in bed kissing, she was playing with my dick and it looked like the start of another big session until she did something completely new with my testicles and I suddenly ejaculated without even realising I was close.