The Perfect End to a Perfect Day

TONIGHT

As much as I enjoy cooking paella, it's a lot of work to make it, and cleaning up afterwards is such a pain in the ass.

I was standing over the sink, putting a lot of effort into scrubbing the skillet, when Kristin sauntered over to the kitchen and arched herself back against the marble countertop, watching me for a few seconds as I labored at the sink.

"So ... I'm feeling very horny tonight," she announced in a silky voice.

"Oh yeah?" I asked.

"Uh-huh. I think I'm going to give Joe a call," she said, wandering back over to the living room.

I was not in any way surprised by this, of course. Anytime she told me she was feeling horny, it was always for him, never for me. Still, even after all these times, every time she teased me, gave me the faintest glimmer of hope, my heart perked up just a little. And each time she inevitably said his name, my heart promptly sank back down.

I listened in as she dialed him up while I kept on working. I could hear the phone ringing briefly before he picked up.

"Hey there, handsome," she cooed. "How was the game today? ... Oh, good. Well, speaking of fun games, I was wondering if you wanted to come over tonight and fool around ... oh, no, my husband's right here. Don't worry, though, he won't give us any trouble ... I'm excited to see you, too, darling. Okay, I'll see you in five minutes."

Kristin smiled like a lovestruck teenager as she headed for the hallway. Just before she turned to walk up the staircase, she glanced at me briefly.

"I'm heading upstairs to change into something more appropriate. Joe will be here in just a few minutes. Let him in when he comes and be a good host while I'm getting ready," she said in a commanding tone.

"Yes, dear," I answered, and watched with envy and desire as her plump bottom sashayed as she bounded eagerly up the stairs.

It seemed like hardly any time at all before the doorbell rang. I opened it up and saw Joe grinning smugly. He was about our age, in his late-thirties, but very muscular from his work as a contractor. The first time I met him, we shook hands, and his grip was painfully strong. I think he put a little extra muscle into it just to make a point.

"Hey, wimp," he greeted me. "Nice apron."

"It's a chef's apron," I answered meekly as I hurriedly stripped it off. I mean, it wasn't a frilly pink apron or anything. "Kristin said she'll be down in a few minutes. Can I get you anything?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

Joe shook his head and took a seat on the couch, propping his feet up on the ottoman. I went back to the kitchen, keeping busy while Kristin's lover hung out in the living room.

"Hey there, dreamboat," I heard her call as she descended the stairs. We both immediately turned to look. She was wearing a black silk robe, open slightly to give a titillating peek at her full, curvy figure. Underneath she wore a matching bra over her DD breasts, and sheer panties.

"Wow, babe. You look amazing," Joe said, dumbstruck. I said nothing, but agreed with him completely. I was in awe of how beautiful she looked.

"You like this?" she asked. "I picked it out today when we were out shopping."

That was true. I had been with her when she bought it. And she had even told me there at the store that it was for her and Joe, and asked me if I thought he would like it. I told her that I was sure he would, and it turned out that I had been right.

Joe walked over to stairwell and Kristin bounded into his arms and they embraced in a long, deep kiss. Kristin took him by the hand and started walking up to the bedroom.

"You," she said, looking over her shoulder at me. "Follow behind us."

They walked into the bedroom and continued kissing. Kristin giggled girlishly as she started unbuckling his belt. I had been following from an unobtrusive distance, and as I walked in, I could already see Joe's erect penis bulging out from his now-open pants as Kristin ran her hands up and down his chest muscles underneath his shirt.

She turned away from him only for a moment to instruct me to get down on my hands and knees in the corner of the room, facing the bed, like usual.

"If you make so much as one sound, I'll have him throw you out of this bedroom," she told me before locking lips with him again. From that moment on, I might as well have been invisible to them.

Kristin peeled off his shirt and flung it on the floor. While he stepped out of his jeans, she climbed on the bed, also on all fours, facing the bedroom door. I had a front-row view of her face and her huge breasts undulating beneath her, but she never glanced at me. Instead, her eyes followed him as he stripped off his boxer shorts and made his way to the bed.

Joe climbed on to the bed and mounted her from behind. She giggled as he gave her a playful swat on the ass. He reached underneath and fingered her labia. I could hear the bubbly sound of her wetness as he slid his finger around. Then he pulled his finger back and slid his massive cock into her, and I could see the waves of pleasure wash over her face as he started thrusting.

FLASHBACK: SOME YEARS AGO

I had been introduced to Kristin through my ex-girlfriend, who worked with her at the same consulting firm. I had dated this girl for a long time. Things were going well, and I thought she and I might even get married. After a while, I finally felt comfortable confiding in her my deepest sexual fantasies: I had long and detailed fantasies of being in a dominant-submissive relationship in which I was submissive to her both sexually and domestically. In a long conversation one night, once I started talking about these repressed desires, they all came pouring out, even my fantasies of watching her have sex with other men.

I thought she would be intrigued, even happy about the idea. The idea that I would make our love-making totally about her pleasure, shoulder all of the burden of the housework, and even give her as much freedom as she wanted to be sexually active, I figured would be appealing to anyone.

Instead, she was repulsed by my fantasies. She wasn't interested in dating, much less marrying, a guy who would be a "boot-licking, pussy-whipped weirdo." Her words stung, and the night ended in tears. The next morning, she called me to tell me that our relationship was over. She could never be in a relationship with a guy who was into that sort of stuff.

She and Kristin were friends, and at some point she told Kristin what had happened and why we had broken up. To my ex-girlfriend's great surprise, Kristin was extremely interested, and pressed her for details about the fantasies I had described to her. Kristin eventually asked for my ex-girlfriend's blessing to friend me on Facebook, which she did.

I wasn't there for this conversation, of course, but I can just picture the stunned look on my ex's face: What interest could Kristin possibly, possibly have in her wimpy ex-boyfriend?

TONIGHT

"Oh, god, fuck me," Kristin moaned. "Fuck me harder." She was flat on her stomach now, with her arms splayed out in front of her. Joe had his forearms hooked underneath her and his hands cupped around her shoulders to get maximum penetration behind his thrusting. They were fucking like wild animals now.

"That's right, baby. Who makes you happy?"

"You do, lover," Kristin answered between heavy breaths. "Nobody but you." A few seconds later, she shrieked from another orgasm.

Joe pulled out, and Kristin rolled over onto her back. They were both totally naked now, her fancy lingerie tossed into a crumpled, sweaty mess on the floor. Kristin reached back and grabbed onto the latticed footboard as Joe straddled her wide body and plowed back into her. Kristin bounced up and down on the bed from the force of his banging her, crying out in delight as he did. The continuous sound of skin slapping against skin provided the backbeat to her frantic pleading for more.

As I sat there in the corner of the room, my eyes transfixed on them, these nights filled me with more arousal than anything I had ever experienced before in my life. Even though my penis is decidedly on the smaller side, I could still feel the strain as my rock-hard cock pressed against the constraint of my pants.

In that moment, I wanted more than anything in the world to unzip my pants and begin stroking my dick furiously, but Kristin had explicitly forbidden me from so much as touching my dick. Orgasms, even self-induced ones, were strictly for real men, she had explained to me sternly, a category into which I didn't come close to qualifying.

And so I kept my palms firmly frozen to the carpet, mesmerized by the sight of her, aroused beyond description and aching for release. Nothing turned me on more than watching her get so thoroughly well fucked, brought to orgasm after satisfying orgasm, watching how happy he made her.

They switched positions again, with Kristin climbing on top of him and riding reverse cowgirl. She was facing my general direction, and I watched her naked body bounce up and down frantically on his long dick, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth agape as passionate moans escaped out from it...

FLASHBACK

After Kristin had gotten my contact information, we had a few introductory conversations on Facebook, about what kinds of things she was looking for, and what sorts of things I was into. After it became clear that there was quite a bit of overlap there, she invited me to rendezvous at the local park to meet her ... and Joe.

Kristin and Joe had been married for a few years by then. They were still very, very happy and very much in love, but lately the sex, while still satisfying, had become ... routine. The hot passion of their newlywed days had melted into something pleasant and comfortable, but without nearly as much novelty or excitement.

After much persuading, Kristin had convinced Joe to try something new. When the mood struck them, I would come over to their house and be Kristin's "husband." Joe would be "her lover." She would call up her backdoor man, and he would come over and fuck her right in front of her "husband."

The fantasy suited everybody. I finally had the kind of relationship I was looking for—a woman who would dominate me and subjugate me without a shred of mercy, and put me through the most degrading humiliation solely for her own pleasure, and without the slightest regard for mine.

Joe, the classic alpha male, was intrigued by the fantasy of getting to brazenly screw another man's wife. Plus, mentally it freed him to say and do things in bed that ordinarily he would feel a bit awkward saying and doing to his wife.

The appeal of this arrangement to Kristin, of course, should be obvious.

At first, we dipped our toes into our roles very cautiously. The first time I came over, Joe was waiting down the end of the street, and I hadn't been there five minutes before she called him and we got rolling. He also set down the rule, still in force, that I was never, ever to touch Kristin in any way.

But as time went on, I was spending more and more time playing the role of the dutiful house-husband before Joe came over. Today had been our longest day together yet. Joe had left early in the morning for Charlottesville to go watch the football game. I came over shortly after he left.

I took the key from under the mat and quietly let myself in through the front door. Kristin was still resting, so I made her breakfast in bed and brought it up to her.

"Thank you, honey," she said with a smile. She looked so very enticing laying there in bed in a silky pink nightgown. If a stranger could have observed us in that moment, they would have thought for sure that I was actually the husband I was pretending to be.

While Kristin got ready, I tended to a few items from the "Honey Do" list she had prepared for me—pulling up weeds from the lawn, cleaning out the gutters; the sorts of chores that they were happy to have someone else do.

Then it was off to the mall to go shopping. Today was the first day we had ever gone out in public together. As Kristin went from store to store, I held her bags and waited while she tried things on, occasionally offering my opinions on things. (We had driven to a mall an hour away to minimize the risk of stoking the curiosity of anyone she might know.) A few of the sales clerks complimented me on what a good "husband" I was.

When we got home, Kristin popped a chick flick in the DVD player and we watched that together. Initially, she had had to convince Joe to let us spend a whole day living out our roles, but seeing as how he'd gotten to go to a football game while avoiding chores, shopping and watching chick flicks, he was quite able to get on board with the idea.

And it was clear that Kristin was enjoying this alternative reality, too. The last time we'd talked on Facebook, she'd said that she genuinely liked this part of it. She said I was like "the gay best friend she'd always wanted," simultaneously making clear that she had absolutely zero physical attraction to me.

And then after the movie, it was time to make dinner...

TONIGHT

She was sucking his cock now. I watched as she really went to town on him, bobbing her head up and down. She smiled when Joe called her "a dirty little whore." It was easier to say and be told such things in this setting than it would be without our little game.

Then the dirty talk trailed off, and I could see that he was getting close to climaxing. She could sense it, too, and she slid her mouth down further until she was swallowing the whole of his cock. Finally, with a masculine grunt he came, pumping his seed into her mouth.

Kristin pulled off from him and turned her head. Maybe I was mistaken about this part, but for a moment it seemed that she for the first time looked at me, and the germ of an idea flashed in her eyes. But a moment later, she turned away and swallowed his seed in one big gulp.

"Wow, that was amazing," she purred after they collapsed in exhaustion on the bed.

"Hell yeah it was," he said. They lay in each other's arms for just a little bit, and then Joe started getting dressed to leave.

"See you again next weekend?" he asked.

"Count on it," she said, beaming.

Joe zipped up his pants and threw on his shirt. He gave Kristin one last, long kiss and then started walking in my direction, towards the door.

"Later, loser," he sneered at me as exited.

Kristin hurriedly slipped into the bathroom. She re-emerged covered up in a bathrobe. This was the end of the show for me. She walked over to where I was. I kept my eyes fixed at her feet.

"I'm going to take a shower. I want you the fuck out of my house before I get out," she commanded with purposefully rudeness.

When the bathroom door closed behind her, I quickly made my departure. I drove home, and as soon as I had closed the door to my apartment, I took off my clothes and began jerking myself off, reliving the whole day, and fantasizing that all of it was really my life, the life I desperately wanted, that Kristin was really my hotwife and I was really her cuckolded husband.

But even as the sperm exploded from my cock as I jerked it, I knew we never would be. This game was the closest we would ever come to living out my fantasy, but I was eternally grateful to have even that much.