Luck of the Irish

The night was young and we were drunk. Even better, it was St Patrick's Day and we were celebrating. Five years ago, the last time St Patty's day had been a Saturday, we'd met for the first time. Two years after that, Claire and I had married. Now here we were.

She pulled me into a bush as we walked up the road, instantly her wet lips and hot breath were all over me. Her hands grabbed me and I grabbed her. Oh yeah, I was getting laid tonight. My hands had no trouble reaching up her short dress and feeling her ass, naked except for the thin lacy strip of her g-string.

"Why don't we fuck right here baby?" She asked. I instantly felt nervous. I really wasn't sure about having sex in public - I could hear the cars driving past nearby. I also felt worried about seeming weak.

It was Claire's favorite joke to tease me about how she thought I was weak and unassertive. She even called me names. It didn't help that it seemed she was able to get me into a compromising position at will. Often she'd down-trail me, or she'd pin me on my front and spank me. Embarrassments like that made me worried that she might think I was actually a bit of a sissy.

"Uhh... what about we get to the bar and have a drink first? I'm almost starting to get sober for christ-sakes!"

She laughed,

"Well we can't be having that!" With one last hot kiss she broke off and stepped out of the bush, back onto the footpath.

I followed her, watching her long, fit legs and swinging ass as she walked. She paused and turned, my eyes were instantly drawn to her chest.

I had a group of mates who I met up with every Friday after work for drinks. We'd started out as high school buddies but over the years a few guys had dropped out and a few more had joined. Now we were early thirties professionals who weren't quite ready to let go of the feeling that we could still have wild parties at any time even though a few of the guys actually had kids.

Amongst our boyish chats, whenever it was necessary to refer to my wife the group always called her "Tits Magee". We'd actually had whole conversations about how epic my wife's tits were. The general consensus was that it wasn't just their size, although that was certainly a consideration, it was the way they seemed to actually defy gravity that made them so impressive. Claire was 32 and had better tits than most 20 year olds.

Naturally I couldn't help but stare as she stood there. God. How on earth did a loser like me end up married to her?

"Come on slowpoke!" She called.

We walked a short way up the street and came up to our neighborhood Irish bar, the "Rose & Thistle". I wouldn't have called it the most Irish of Irish bars. Like all Irish bars however, it served beer and that was all we really needed.

I walked past the two bouncers easily enough, into the dark, crowded and hot interior. The music was loud. Laser lights flashed from the dance floor. I turned to look for Claire and sure enough, the bouncers were talking to her, looking her up and down. She was a bit drunk to be fair, however we all knew this would end with a certain type of smile from her. Soon enough it did and she walked in.

"Where should we sit?" Claire asked, yelling. I looked around. Absolutely no tables, or even stools were available.

"You can sit with us," came a gruff male voice from off to the side.

I turned to look at the guy and yep, suspicion confirmed - he had that dodgy, pervert type of look to him. He must have been in his mid fifties, more than twenty years older than us, yet he was clearly giving my wife the look. He was a bit heavy but also quite solid, taller and larger than me. He had a much deeper voice too. He seemed able to yell without yelling if that makes sense. It probably doesn't.

Before I could say "no thanks" Claire had already accepted his offer and was trotting over to the empty stools opposite him. I felt quite intimidated by this situation.

We sat there and he made light conversation with us. What were our names, what did we do, how was our night going.

Through each answer he replied "Oh yep," with a nod. His eyes were intense and they were clearly focussed on Claire's chest. Pervert. He introduced his brother and father who were sitting next to him.

Brother was younger, perhaps ten years older than us. He was completely drunk, nothing he said made any sense. He clearly thought my wife was hot though. In fact I think he might have even been trying to say so. His laugh told me he also thought I was a loser.

Father was more reserved. He must have been at least seventy but still seemed pretty sharp. In fact he was sufficiently built that I wouldn't want a piece of him. Like the others he spent a lot of time looking intently at my wife's chest.

The next question was "What brought us out tonight?" Claire lit up as she explained that it was the anniversary of the first time we'd met. This finally bought a reaction out of him.

"Yeah? You met on Saint Patty's day five years ago? Well how about that! Congratulations! Why don't I buy you both a drink!"

Claire smiled again,

"Thank you! That would be nice!"

He pulled out a fat, leather wallet and fished a note from it, this he passed to me.

"There you go, go get the misses and you a couple of Dublin's finest!" I must admit, I was slightly taken aback. In my book 'buying you a drink' meant you would also go to the bar and get it. Also, this meant I would have to leave my hot wife with three perverts.

Claire smiled at me. I wasn't going to get out of this. Damn.

Predictably, the bar was packed. It took a long time to even talk to a barman. I kept looking back at the group. Claire was in an intense, apparently also very light hearted conversation. The look on his face was dangerous. It was the look of a man who expected to get a fuck. Was I about to get cuckolded?

I must admit, the idea had appeal. I would want it to happen with a guy I felt comfortable with however, not one who intimidated me. Plus he was an absolute pervert. Clearly, he was here to take advantage. I was a bit concerned for Claire to be honest.

I finally got the drinks and rushed back. Just as I got there, Claire was walking in the direction of the dance floor holding his fucking hand!

She gave me one of those hot, wet kisses as I walked up. She was still turned on as fuck. My heart was racing.

"We're just going for a dance" she declared. I tried to tell her not to but I wasn't quick enough. She was on her way to the dance floor with her hand in his. I was stunned. All I could do was watch her sexy ass as she followed him. He briefly flashed me a look, it was a fucking arrogant grin.

I knew I really should have, no, needed to walk over there, grab her and lead her away but equally I felt really intimidated by this guy. I also felt fucking turned on by this whole thing. It was really embarrassing. I had to sit down.

"Looks like he wants to fuck your wife!" Father gruffly pointed out with a smirk, his first words to me.

Across the bar I watched the guy dance his way behind Claire and wrap his hand around her left ass cheek. She looked up, laughing nervously and tried to remove his hand. He grinned and eventually allowed her to.

"Are you going to do anything about it?" Father's laser eyed expression made it clear that his real message was 'don't do anything about it'.

I laughed nervously, my cock harder than ever. I watched as some old pervert danced with wife.

iit didn't take long before he was dancing pretty fucking close. I noticed his hand on her ass. Claire laughed nervously and attempted to push his hand off her. It took a moment but again he allowed her to.

I felt so fucking nervous, I was sweating like a pig. This guy's desire to fuck my wife had actually become a spectator event.

"Put your hand on her ass again!" Dad yelled, brother seemed enthusiastic about this too, although whether he actually knew what was happening was debatable.

As if able to hear, I saw his hand once again casually come to rest on my wife's ass. This time she seemed less worried about it but still reached around to remove it. As if using this as an opening, he put his hand on her neck and pushed his lips onto hers.

Holy fuck. This dude was kissing my wife!

"Yeah!" Dad fist pumped, he turned to me and patted my shoulder with enough force to really be considered a strike. "How does it feel! He's pashing your wife over there!"

It made me feel sick and scared, but also turned on as fuck.

She lifted her other hand up and she made a brief and very lackluster attempt to push him off her, before clearly giving up and actually pushing herself forward and into his pash. He took this as an all clear and moved his hand from her neck, down to the bottom of her short skirt.

I cringed as I watched his hand go up her skirt and then very clearly feel her up. My wife placed her hand on his wrist in another feeble attempt to stop him which was just as effective as her last.

I practically blew my load in my pants as I watched.

She broke away from the kiss as he started rubbing her crotch and she threw her head back in obvious pleasure. I was amazed that more people around them weren't looking at what he was doing. As it happened they were practically being ignored. She grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled her lips onto his, grinding her crotch against his fingers. This guy was at least 20 fucking years older than her!

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they broke it off and walked back in our direction. I couldn't even make eye contact with either of them.

"Cucky," he said to me, "go outside and order us a taxi back to yours so I can fuck your wife!"

Dad cracked up laughing. The guy once again pashed my wife in front of me, she enthusiastically let him. "Looks like I'll be out for the night boys," he said to Dad and Brother.

I was horrified by this turn of events, totally unsure of what to do. I felt like I should say no, grab Claire and drag her out of there. My heart pounded. Depressingly, I realized I was too much of a sissy to do that. Instead I walked toward the door, laughter from Dad and Brother followed me.

I summoned the taxi and was about to hop into the back seat but he pushed past me, my wife's hand in his, forcing me to just close the door for them.

"Where too?" The taxi driver asked as I hopped in the front, his eyes were on the two back seat passengers. Rather, they were on my wife's sexy legs. We both noticed they guys hand slipping up her dress again. Apparently, despite his admiration for said legs, this was a step too far. "Hey, not in the taxi!" the driver yelled. The guy smiled and took his hand away.

"You don't want a wee peek at what's up there?" His hand tugged at the edge of Claire's skirt in an obvious hint. She just smiled.

"Not while I'm on duty buddy," the taxi driver responded firmly. I admired his resolve, realising that while he could resist that, I couldn't even raise a word of disagreement at what he was doing with my wife.

Feeling like even more of a sissy, I gave the driver my address.

"Those two friends of yours?" The driver asked, continuing to take frequent looks to the back seat as he pulled out and joined the traffic.

"Yeah," I answered. The last thing I would ever say to him.

"This is his wife! He's our cuckold," the guy called from the back seat.

"Oh-kay," taxi driver was obviously purplexed. I just stared at the floor as the burn of humiliation overtook me.

We reached home and the two lovers practically fell out of the taxi before making their way inside while taking constant pash-breaks. When they reached the door and Claire had to stop to fish her keys out of her handbag, he took the opportunity to pull the back of her skirt right up and show off her skimpy g-string. He grinned at the taxi driver as he rudely cupped her ass cheeks before the door was opened and they both disappeared.

I handed over the money for the taxi.

"Have a nice night," the taxi driver said to me. He clearly thought I was a weirdo. Was I? I didn't know anymore. I couldn't bring myself to meet his eyes or say anything, instead I just made my way inside.

I was shocked as I entered and found them on the settee, which sat in our foyer. Claire was naked except for her heels, these were wrapped around his back, her toes curled in them. He'd dropped his pants and I could see his ass cheeks clenching as he methodically thrust into her, grunting as he did. Her arms and head were splayed over the corner of the settee, her mouth open as she passionately moaned and bucked in time with his thrusts. Her eyes were squeezed shut and I could see a sheen of sweat forming on her naked skin. She blushed very slightly.

I stood by, feeling totally impotent and useless. I felt nauseous, dizzy and wanted to cry. My cock was hard though, so much so that I felt an almost uncontrollable urge to pull it out and start masturbating right there.

"FUUUUUUU......." Claire suddenly half moaned, half screamed. She screwed up her face as she did and this snapped me out of it. I scuttled away toward the kitchen.

I soon heard them climbing the stairs. With sudden, intense curiosity as to where they might be going, I followed quietly. My suspicions were confirmed as I saw them enter our marital bedroom. My shoulders slumped even more.

For the next 45 minutes or so I sat, frustrated and angry, in the lounge. I turned the TV up and up again, at one point I actually yelled up the stairs for them to be quiet. I sipped on my whiskey. They can't have heard me.

"OHH FUCK!! OHH YES!! OH GOD YES FUCK ME!!! OHHHH!!" The bed was being absolutely slammed against the ground.

"Call me daddy!" I heard him say.

"OH YES DADDY!! YES DADDY!!! THAT'S IT DADDY! SOO FUCKING GOOD DADDY!!"

"Tell me I'm better than your fucking husband!"

"SOOOOO MUCH BETTER DADDY!! SO GOOD DADDY!! FUCK YES DADDY!!"

Yet another nail. I felt utterly depressed as, totally defeated, I pulled out my cock and began to wank it. I couldn't help it any more. I had been holding out a slither of hope that I might get to be with Claire after he'd finished or left but I realized this wouldn't happen.

"FUCK DADDY!! FUCK!! MARRY ME DADDY!! FUUUCK!!"

"Tell me you love me!"

"FUUUUCK I LOVE YOU DADDY!! I LOOOOOVE YOU!!!"

Suddenly I blew my load all over myself, a bit of it even landed in my whisky which I was still holding in my other hand. Fuck.

"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU..........OHHHHHHHHHHH......"

Claire was cumming again.

"Oh fuck yes!" I heard him moan. I guessed he must have cum as well. Not surprising, when Claire cums she kind of thrusts forward and squeezes, it's totally impossible for you not to cum as well. Suddenly I felt a shock.

"How do you like that in you?" I heard him say. God, he must have cum in her! Claire wasn't on the pill, we'd been talking about having a baby. Fuck! She'd have to take the ECP tomorrow.

I didn't hear too much more from upstairs. I heard them kissing a bit and moving around on the bed, no doubt straightening themselves up or something. I decided not to really move too far myself and just laid back, closing my eyes.

I awoke with a start. It was light.

"OHH FUCK YESS!!"

Were they fucking again? Claire had always said to me that once a week was enough. Now that must have been their third fuck in less than 12 hours. Fuck.

I tried to block it out, I didn't want to hear. For the first few minutes anyway. Then my hand was wanking my little dick once again. I felt so fucking pathetic. Once again I blew my load so fucking fast.

I had time to get up and wash out my whisky glass, then went to the the toilet - all before they'd even finished their fucking session. The flushing must've reminded them that I existed. Almost shockingly, Clare actually acknowledged my existence.

"Honey!" She called out, blatantly summoning me. "Baby!"

"What?!" I yelled back, why should I even listen to her??

"Come here please!"

I frowned. Why the fuck was she summoning me? I thought about not going but once again I wussed out and walked up the stairs.

The bedroom had been devastated. The mattress wasn't even straight on the bed and it was a pretty fucking big mattress. No sheet was within metres of the bed, one was even hanging off the top of the mirror on the dresser. Pillows were everywhere. Only a duvet covered their sweaty, panting bodies. Limbs were sticking out. Somehow Claire still had both her high heels on. The room absolutely reeked of sex.

He reclined smuggly. She smiled.

"Get us some MacDonalds please?" She asked sweetly. As if she wasn't my wife who had just fucked some random old guy all night. I was utterly stunned. How could she possibly ask that? I already knew I would do it though.

It was clear that the last night had represented a tectonic shift in our marriage. I knew things would never be the same again. At this point I basically had the option of accepting it - or not. I already knew which option I would take.

I sighed,

"What would you both like?"

I won't bore you with the rest of the details but basically, Mcdonalds was followed by me being his transport back to his house. Which was followed by a trip to the chemist to collect and ECP for my wife. She went to the doctor and got back on the pill after that, suddenly she wasn't ready or babies anymore.

We saw the guy a series of times after that, he would turn up on any given night, maybe twice per week at most. He never stayed over again but he did fuck the heck out of my wife each time before dashing out just as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving an exhausted, sweaty, cum filled wife. Mercifully, they seemed to grow bored of each other after a few months. It seemed like they had some sort of argument about something. I never saw him again.

A few nights later I walked in on my wife, wearing a short, tight dress that should have been too young for her but wasn't. Her high heels completed the sexy combo. I had no doubt that her lingerie matched in as well.

What she said next shocked me more than anything else I'd ever heard in my life. It also turned me on.

"Well, I feel like going out and finding a big dick. Want to come along?"