Penelope

"Yes?" I said.

"Do you even want to continue with the scene?" she said. I looked askance at her. The question was a fair one. That she was even asking me was a surprise to say the least.

"Under the right conditions, I guess it would be okay," I said.

"Oscar, we need to set the limits here, that, so I know what your limits are. I don't want to risk our marriage again, not for anything, and certainly not for any short term sexual thrill," she said.

"I guess, determining what my limits are will be something to discover over time. That said, I wanna be able to say that I object and have that stop anything that, in my opinion, is especially egregious," I said. She nodded.

"Okay, I think that maybe that would be a good idea," she said. "I mean, the 'I object' part," she said.

"When is the next scene?'" I said. She looked away.

"Anytime. Tonight, if you're up to it. Or, whenever," she said.

"Not tonight. I need to come down from my mental state before I can trust myself with him around. Today is Saturday. How about next Saturday. Would that be all right?" I said. She thought for a minute, and apparently coming to a decision, she nodded yes. I finally allowed myself a smile.

******

All week at work I wasn't worth a damn. I kept wondering if things would really and truly work out for us. I should have said no to the whole scene. But, truth known, I thought it was a hot scene if things were to be ordered well. And, we'd had sex three times during the week, so I was not overly concerned about the upcoming scene with Bill.

The day of truth finally arrived, and both my wife and myself were nervous as hell!

I was putting some more beer and soft drinks in my small service porch frig when she came downstairs. I looked back when I heard her footsteps and what I saw was a vision. Black midi; four inch spikes; beautifully done nails—hands and feet; makeup that Cleopatra would have envied; and her hair, cascading curls that blew me away. Oh, and the smell of her.

"You like?" she said. I couldn't speak. All I could do was nod, slowly nod.

"Oscar, can we talk for a few minutes?" she said.

"Sure, I guess so," I said. We adjourned to the couch.

"I'm a little frightened," she said.

"Frightened? Why frightened?" I said. "I'm the one who should be frightened. Bill? You? What do either of you have to be frightened about?"

"Frightened about how you might react. I mean the last time..."

"I only walked out because I thought that I was going to be denied intercourse, my husbandly rights as he said. Not because of the night in general," I said.

"No, not that, Oscar. That won't be a problem. It was when Bill wanted to pants you, and you balked. I was afraid then that there was going to be problems. That's why I jumped in and told him he shouldn't push you. I knew you were kind of fragile, all this being new to us. I just don't want to ruin everything because of some silly misunderstanding. This lifestyle, if that's what it is, can be great or us, but it can also be a serious problem," she said.

"I've thought some about that, Pen. I will do better this time. I promise. So long as you keep your promise to me, I will do my best to not rock the boat. Okay?" I said. She smiled.

"Good. I was hoping you'd say something like that. I think it's time for you to get ready if that's all right with you. He'll be here in an hour. Okay?" she said.

I found myself again in my tuxedo. I made a promise to myself not to be recalcitrant when her lover asked me to do something. And, I hoped I could keep my promise.

She looked at me. We'd both heard the knock. I glanced at her and went to the door.

"Good evening, Bill," I said. I slipped to my knees in front of him. I had not told Penelope of my intention to kneel in front of her lover. I hoped it would please her, and, reassure her. It did.

Bill smiled. He handed me his coat while I was still on my knees, and looked over at Penelope and whistled. He went to her and kissed her passionately.

"You look fabulous," he said. Well, she did. She took his hand and led him toward the hall to the downstairs guest bedroom, no playing in the living room this night. Just as they turned, she looked back at me and mouthed me a message.

"You will be very well rewarded." And then they were walking and kissing and feeling each other up as the moved down the hall. I rose and followed them.

I entered the room but a moment behind them; they were already by the bed and engaged in a very sensual embrace. She heard me and broke from her embrace and came to me.

"Oscar, stand over there, so you can see better. Okay?" she said. I nodded.

"Okay," I said. She took hold of my arm, and stopped me, as I turned to do her bidding.

"Oscar, drop your pants down around your ankles," she nodded toward the spot she wanted me to stand, "but don't kick them completely off. Bill wants to see your penis hanging down or maybe getting hard. Okay?"

I hesitated, but I obeyed her. "Okay," I said. "I went to stand where she'd indicated. I undid my belt and pushed my pants down to my ankles. I followed that by pushing my underpants down as well. I was semi-hard already. I faced them red-faced, as Bill laughed, and Penelope gave me what I could only describe as an indulgent smile. For some reason their looks turned me on and my half sized cock responded. The two of them noticed.

"Is that as big as he gets!" said Bill clearly and actually surprised. She frowned at him.

"Leave my husband alone. Yes, it's as big as it gets. Now leave him alone," she repeated. He scowled, but did as she said.

"Oscar," she said, looking over at me, "don't play with yourself. I want you horny for later. Okay?" I smiled broadly and nodded my obedience. I was feeling pretty good for the totally humiliated cuckold that I was. I did notice that Bill did not share my good feelings. He gave Penelope a hard look, but for the moment he didn't say anything.

Soon the two lovers were naked, but still standing next to the bed. I knew that situation wasn't going to last. I wondered why they were hesitating. I soon got my answer.

Bill whispered in her ear. She pushed back from him a little and had a concerned look on her face. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted to do something to me, and she was worried about it. She looked furtively at me. I shrugged. She came to me.

"He's asking if I can have you do something for him,,," she started. I interrupted her.

"So long as you are going to keep your promise to me, I will do whatever I can to make this good for you, and, for him too, I guess. And, maybe me?" I said. She gave me a wan smile, but said nothing else.

She took my hand and led me over to him. "Get on your knees, Oscar," she said. I looked at her, smiled, and did what she said.

"Now, my little cucky, I need you t kiss your master's feet," she said. I looked at her and almost choked. I had said I would do anything; she was calling my bluff. Her smile was hopeful. I looked up at him, swallowed hard, leaned down, and kissed his feet one at a time. Straightening up, I started to come to my feet, but Bill restrained me, gently, lightly, but he clearly wanted me to remain on my knees.

"It's time for you to become a true cuckold, I mean a really true cuckold," he said. He waved his cock in front of my face. I paled, I could feel the blood drain from my face. Once again I looked over at my wife. She had a very serious look on her face, but she nodded for me to obey her lover.

I reached up and took hold of his oversized cock. I licked at it for a moment, and then let the tip slide into my mouth. I began to suck. It was my first blow job. It was humiliating, but thinking about what I was going to get later from Penelope minimized the worst of it. Well, as he had indicated I was a true cuck now as if there'd been any doubt before.

He took control of me by holding the back of my head with both hands while he fucked my mouth. I wasn't ready for it when it came; he flooded my mouth with his seed; I choked and coughed, but I swallowed most of it. He, for his part, fell backward onto the bed half out of breath.

Wiping my mouth, I looked over at my wife. This time I had what must've been an angry look on my face. She gave me a look that seemed to say, be patient you'll get used to it. I doubted that; I really doubted that. She'd seated herself on the side of the bed as she'd watched him fuck my face; now she came to me.

She knelt down beside me. She had evidently decided to take over where I had left off. Bill lay spread-eagled with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. She moved between them and sucked his cock like there was no tomorrow. The object was clearly to get him up again in order to fuck her; she succeeded totally, and soon he had her spread-legged on the bed and was plowing her fields with great enthusiasm.

Her moans and gasps were almost non-stop for the next twenty minutes; finally, she screamed as a seismic event engulfed her. I could actually hear her squirting her juices out as he deposited his load inside of her. For the life of me I was turned on—big time—angry at what I'd done, mostly at myself, but nevertheless turned on.

"Cucky, please be so good as to get miss Penelope and I a cup of hot tea," said Bill. Grateful for a chance to get out of the room for a few minutes, I nodded and headed to the kitchen. It took but a few of minutes to brew up the tea and carry it back down the hall to the guest room. As I neared the doorway, I heard them talking and I heard my name. There was a little phone table a few feet down the hall from the room, I set the tea service on it and crept closer to the door to hear what I could hear.

"You told him he could fuck you!" said Bill.

"I had to, he'd walked out. I had to stop him from staying out or he would have cut me off without a dime. He's a mechanic, a good one, and he could just leave and work anywhere," she said.

"No. That is one promise you cannot keep. He gets no pussy. He is allowed to eat my cum out of your pussy and your ass, but that's it. No kisses, no pussy, no blow jobs none of it," he said. "He's not a man anymore; he's a wimp and a cuckold. He gets no pussy, period."

"I have to let him do me, at least a couple of times to calm him down. He's agreed to do his duty when we all meet, like he's done tonight, but only if I let him have me," she said.

"Okay, okay, if you have to let him inside of you, tell him he can only do it when I have had you first. Sloppy seconds for him and only sloppy seconds. And, only a couple of times, after that nothing ever again. You have to train him," said Bill. They were silent for a moment. I could sense Penelope thinking.

"That might work," she said. "He actually gets off on the cuckold scene. He just doesn't want to be denied. He says he can't handle that, and I believe him. Right now he can't. But maybe, handled right, I could train him to accept denial. I guess it's worth a try."

"Yeah, well that's a much as he gets. You gotta get him to accept his place. I'm your main man now, not him. He is only legally your husband; I'm the man of the house, and I don't want him messing with my woman," he said.

"I picked up the tea service and headed back into the room. Inside I looked for his clothes. The two of them smiled at me, their servant. I set the service down, and, taking the pot of almost boiling tea went to his pile of clothes and poured the entire pot on them. The shock on the faces of the two of them was, for me, almost cathartic.

"What the fuck are you doing asshole!" screamed Bill.

"Oscar what has gotten into you!" said Penelope.

"You just couldn't keep your promise could you, Pen?" I said. She paled. She, the both of them, realized that I'd overheard them.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said. "Look, Oscar. We, all of us, want a good scene. You just have to try an understand that a cuckold..."

"Fuck you, Pen. Marry the asshole. He can support you from now on. I'm done," I said.

"Oscar! No!" she said. "You can't just leave..."

Good old Bill had finally gotten seriously mad. He jumped out of bed and blocked my way to the door. But, I went to the closet. I pulled down a suitcase and started throwing my stuff in it. I was maybe at it for two minutes while the two of them threw various mouthings at me: she begging me to stop and think about what I was doing, him, assuring me that I wasn't going anywhere under my own power. The whole scene was amusing as hell.

Done packing my essentials, I turned to go. Good old Bill was still naked, and he was smiling the smile of the confident. At six-three and two-forty well he might. But, oddly, I wasn't concerned.

Carrying my suitcase, I headed for the door. He blocked my path. "Move or I will have you arrested," I said. Well, at half his size I wasn't into the hero scene.

"Whatsamatter pussy, not man enough to fight for your wife?" he said. I smiled.

"Well, let me see, Bill. You're eight or nine inches taller, maybe fifteen years younger, about eighty pounds heavier: yeah, that'd be a fair fight, I guess," I said.

"Muthafukka," he said, resorting to his linguistic roots. But, he did finally move aside; he wasn't risking jail over scalded pants. Anyway, his pants were going to be the least of his, their, worries.

******

My leaving was going to make things problematical for the two of them. That because they refused to play it straight with me. They both needed me, and they'd blown it. I was more than glad now that I had taken the measures that I had early on in this little farce to protect myself financially.

I was the one who handled the finances in our home; Penelope, as noted, didn't work, and Bill barely made enough to get by. Originally, I'd agreed and decided that I would do what she asked, the cuckolding scene, because it was a hot fantasy of mine as well as hers; and because I was totally in love with her, pussywhipped actually. Plus, until this moment, I had been sure, at least I think I'd been sure, that she was in love with me. Alas, now I knew different.

Had she not done what she'd done and essentially doublecrossed me, hurt me, things would have been okay. But she had hurt me, and now, as I hammered the keyboard to finalize all of the "just in case" measures that I had set in place when this all started; I was guaranteeing their poverty. It might be a fact that I was being replaced by some big dicked knucklehead, but at the least I wouldn't end up penniless.

My personal, and unknown to Penelope, bank account, really just a savings account; now augmented by the $133,000 dollars gotten via the second mortgage I'd taken out on my house, would see to that. I was able to do the mortgage on the sly because the house had been mine before the marriage, bequeathed to me by my mom and dad upon their deaths in an auto accident seventeen years before. Protecting myself didn't make me feel better about what had happened to me two days past, but I did feel safer. I would be dining in a different town, no more than twenty-four hours hence.

******

Penelope:

He's been gone almost six months. He's left me; my husband's left me. I've made a huge mistake, and now he is making me pay for it. Oscar is, was, a good man. He's worshipped me from day one, but not anymore. And me? Do I love him, my Oscar? Yes, I think so. It's just that I needed something more, well, something longer and fatter. I didn't before, but now I know what it is, and I do need it.

For ten years Oscar and I shared our sexual fantasies, tried new things, laughed, and had an all around good time sexually and otherwise, even with his miniature dick. The uptick in our sexual lives was the result of him reading things on the net and in magazines of one kind or another. Then, about nine months ago, I met William "Bill" Kristoff: tall, dark, and handsome; eight-inch dick, and outstanding stamina.

About a week after I'd met Bill in the supermarket where he worked, I ran into him again. He was coming out of the Department of Motor Vehicles where I'd gone to register Oscar's new car. He'd asked me to lunch. Lunch had preceded our going to the Motel-6 near his place of work. Until that day I had never cheated on Oscar. However, that day wasn't to be the last. Bill and I met at least twice a week thereafter. Finally, I sat down with Bill and we made some decisions, plans. We would involve, Oscar. Somehow, I had to get him into the mix. That, or we, Bill and I, would be discovered; and then what would happen would have been what has in fact now happened: my hubby is gone.

I needed what Bill could do for me, and I do mean needed. That first time that I'd let Bill do me made me know that I had to get Oscar on board, involved; and, as I said, Bill and I figured and planned. But the plans failed. I just can't seem to win. And Bill?

Bill, is a fun guy—in bed—but nowhere near the man that Oscar is in any other way. Bill wanted to take Oscar's place in my life, except for the actual marriage part that is, he was very clear about not wanting to tie the knot with me, ever. That, actually, fit with my desires; I did not want to lose Oscar, not at this stage of my life. Fuck! But that is exactly what has happened.

The knock on the door shook me out of my reverie. "Bill!" I said, as I let him in.

"Yeah, it's me. Any word about wimpy?" he said. He walked past me into the living room.

"Fuck you, Bill. If you hadn't insisted that I cut him off, and incidentally lie to him, he'd still be here. I can't tell you how fucking much I appreciate you fucking up my life, not to mention his," I said.

"Yeah, believe it or not, I'm sorry about that. I know you had a thing for the little guy, dinky dick and all," he said. I gave him a look that should have turned his blood cold.

"Let's put it this way, butthead," I said. "Oscar makes, or made, $75,000 annual. You make, what, twenty-five? How in hell's name do you figure I'm gonna be able to keep up the payments on these digs? I don't work, never have, and you're what? A box boy in a supermarket!"

"A clerk," he said.

"Huh? What?" I said.

"A clerk, not a box boy," he said.

"Yeah, well, hoopdeedoo!" I said. "I have to find that man and get him to forgive me, and you're gonna help me," I said.

"Hire a detective. He can be found. I'm betting he hasn't gone all that far. Probably not left the state. You've waited long enough for him to call you. It's time to go after him," said Bill.

"I thought of that. At $200 a day and expenses I stopped thinking about it. You wanna fund the search? I've used every spare dollar I could find to last this long. I'm at the end of my rope," I said. He looked down.

"You know I don't have that kind of money," he said.

"Yeah, I do know. But no matter what, I am going to find him. Sooner or later I'm going to find him. You can take that to the bank," I said.

******

"What'll you have today," said Tito. Tito is a Filipino bartender with lots of high tone experience: European and Asian hotels. He invented something he calls the hot martini. He'd open a bottle of vodka and drop in several chopped up Thai hot peppers and let the bottle sit untouched for a week. The result was a bottle of Russo-Thai firewater. Anyone who knows anything about Thai food, knows that Thai hot peppers make the Mexican variety seem like a garnish for ice cream.

"Same as always, Tito, one of your hotties," I said. The Courtyard had been my hangout ever since I left Groverton and travelled across the state here to Fairfield, ever since I'd left Penelope. That'd been ten years ago now as I reckoned. I still wasn't over the woman. God help me; my love for her has proved to be deathless. Almost every day since my departure I've thought about her. Wondered whether she'd divorced me and married the asshole. I'd never had to sign papers, never gotten any news.