You Don't Deserve My Pussy

The reception was at an exclusive athletic club, sort of a country club without the golf course. I parked and walked in, not seeing Rachel or Rob. Signs pointed the way to the reception, and I busied myself chatting with co-workers as half my brain wondered what exactly was going on between Rachel and Rob. I made my way to restroom, my bladder needing to take a nervous piss, but my half stiff cock had me standing for at least thirty seconds before I could get a flow started, and even then it was on and off for a few minutes. Other people came and went around me. It was embarrassing.

I wandered back, getting a drink and finding the dining room, where each table had assigned seating. I found our table, and sure enough, Rob was scheduled to sit with us.

I grimaced and turned around. Part of me wanted to find Rachel and leave, just get the hell out. I steeled myself to confront her, tell her we had to go and just leave, save ourselves, my pride, and maybe even our marriage.

But there was another part of me. This part had horns and a pitch fork and a pointy tail. This part of me wanted to watch, to see, to experience the rollercoaster of emotion that washed over me. This part of me wanted to see Rachel in Rob's orbit of control.

Finally I found Rachel. It was already 30 minutes after I'd arrived. She were sitting at a table outside with some other co-workers. They hadn't been there when I walked by in my earlier panic.

"Honey, where have you been?" Rachel asked, a drink in front of her. "I saved you a seat."

"Thanks," I said, suddenly feeling great relief. There were other people at the table and Rob was nowhere to be seen. "Did you come straight here?"

"Yep, I waited for you but didn't see you," she answered. She looked at me oddly, perhaps sensing I wasn't right. "Are you okay? I hope you didn't mind, you know."

"No," I grinned, "It's all good. I know how much you wanted this."

She looked at me and gave me a look with the greatest little puppy dog eyes, "Thank you honey, you're the best," and she kissed me on the cheek.

I swear if nobody else was there I would have wept I was so relieved.

Still, I had to know something so I leaned in and whispered in her ear, "You didn't, you know, do anything with him?"

She gave me a sly smile, and looked at the others, and she looked back at me, "I'll tell you later," she answered.

My heart thumped as she looked away, continuing her conversation with the others. I felt like a zombie as I sat there. The stress, the pure mental anguish was incredible. What had she done? Why was she going to make me wait for later? Did she realize how incredibly hard this was for me?

I finished my drink and waited maybe 15 minutes, almost completely silent the entire time as Rachel talked with her old colleagues. I excused myself, dropping my empty cup at another table as I made my way back to the restroom. This time I avoided the urinal, and moved straight to a stall. Thankfully it was pristine, the club certainly knew how to keep their toilets clean. I grabbed a paper toilet seat cover, my shaking hands tearing it in two. I grabbed another and got it right, laying it out.

I sat down and peed again, the liquor flowing through me. I looked around, careful not to make too much noise, and got up, nudging the paper ring into the toilet and I flushed. I sat down again, this time on the warm seat, no paper to give away the rhythmic sound of what I was about to do.

I thought about Rachel, visions of her kissing Rob, sucking his cock, maybe even fucking him crossing my mind, and I could see it. I reached down between my legs, and masturbated.

It was the shameful jerkoff of a cuckold, clear seminal fluid easily coaxed from the tip of my rock hard cock. I smoothed it around my head, spreading more out to coat my shaft where my fingers smoothed it back and forth.

I had to be careful not to make too much noise, so it wasn't quick and hard jerks, just slow and steady as my cock's sexual system came online, a dull pleasure replaced by radiant waves, intensified by not giving myself a death grip handjob, but more like if my wife was jerking me off, going slow when I would like it a little faster, especially as I hit the point of no return.

In my bid to not make noise, I grimaced, holding my breath, trying not to to make any sound that would give away my true bodily function.

Cum squirted hard, splattering on the floor in front of me. I knew others were in the restroom and I squirmed, hoping they didn't hear the thick liquid hit the floor. Anybody who looked would see an obvious puddle of warm white fluid. I bit my lip and grabbed some toilet paper, quickly wiping it up, hoping I wasn't caught. I stood up and threw it in the bowl, then cleaned up. I cursed lightly as I saw a drop had landed on my best suit pants. As I buckled up I wondered if the stain would be obvious, or should I try to wipe it off with some water from the sink.

I wondered if I should I peek outside to see if the coast was clear, or just be normal, walk out like I owned the place. I opted for the latter, ignoring the others in the room. Nobody looked at me, said anything funny. I washed up and used a paper towel with water to blot the stain, I'd have to wear my suit jacket to cover it up until the water dried.

I felt good as I left the restroom. Sexualy it was a relief, even if questions still swirled, but I felt like I could at least hold a conversation. I picked up two more drinks and headed over to the table where my wife was still chatting.

We chatted for 15 minutes when Rachel asked me if I wanted to dance. I nodded and we made our way to the dance floor. It was a quick number with lots of people moving around, nothing for an intimate conversation. Rachel loves to dance, so we had a pretty good time for a couple of songs. Finally a slow dance started.

She smiled at me and we closed in on each other, her head on my shoulder has I held her close.

"So what happened?" I whispered.

"Oh," she said loudly, looking at me laughing, "You wouldn't believe it."

"What?" I answered.

"So we're driving over and we're just chatting, everything is normal, and we pull into the parking lot, and he asks me to kiss him."

"Really?" I said.

Rachel just nodded her head, grinning like she was pleased with herself if not a little surprised.

"And?" I said.

Rachel leaned in and kissed me. I humored her, returning the kiss. Was I tasting Rob on her lips? Her kiss seemed absolutely normal, but I wanted a full report. My cock pressed into her, hard.

"How did it feel, the way he took me from you?" she whispered.

I groaned, "It drove me crazy. I about went insane until I found you."

She surreptitiously reached over and brushed my hard cock, giving it a gentle squeeze, and I smiled at the thrill of her touch.

I was completely wound up again, "Did you kiss him?"

She just smiled, looking in my eyes, giving me a little smirk, and she nodded, almost imperceptibly.

I pulled her tighter and closed my eyes. It had happened and it was what I wanted to hear, "Was he a good kisser?"

She nodded.

"Do you want to kiss him again?"

She nodded.

"I want to fuck you so bad," I whispered.

She leaned in and purred, "You don't deserve my pussy."

"Did you blow him?" I whispered.

"No," she answered laughing, "What am I, a slut?"

So it was just a kiss. My hard cock wondered what other wonders the day would bring.

I held her there and whispered in her ear, "Is there a chance there will be more tonight?"

"Mmm hmm," she whispered, looking away from me.

We finished out our dance and walked off the dance floor. We hung out a bit more and I finally spied Rob making the rounds, glad-handing people as he charmed them. Finally he made his way to us, but not before grabbing yet another drink for Rachel.

We stood there, Rachel on my arm, beaming at him. Again she greeted him with a kiss, this time grabbing his hips, kissing his neck. It was definitely over the line but it happened so fast I'm sure nobody noticed but us.

"I was just telling my husband about the car ride over," said Rachel, winking at me.

"Oh really?" Rob answered, a smug look on his face.

"You know," Rachel continued, "I was wondering, would you be interested in driving me back this evening?" She said this, our elbows intertwined as she leaned on me.

"You might get back very late Rachel. Can your husband handle the long and lonely wait?" His eyes drilled into me, his million dollar smile lighting up his face.

Rachel also looked at me, and I realized it was my choice. Right then and there, it was time to make a decision.

I looked at them both, silently appraising the situation. The sexual tension in our three way triangle could be cut with a knife.

"Please?" Rachel begged me with those puppy dog eyes.

Still, that wasn't enough to sway me. Rachel grew frustrated, and then she said something that changed everything, "Think about who deserves it more."

She was being tactful, but the message was clear to me - You don't deserve my pussy

Rob scrunched his eyes, clearly perplexed.

Now don't get me wrong, it's not like she actually thought her pussy deserved anything. The whole you don't deserve my pussy idea is fantasy bedroom talk, nothing more, nothing less. But remember, every time I'd heard the sentence, it was as if I was conditioned to accept her cheating, dominant sexual role. I associated those words with her teasing my cock, as her pussy dangled in front of me, not quite attainable. I associated those words with her working her sex toy in front of me. I associated that phrase with fantastic orgasms and the best sex I'd had in years.

The devil inside me, the one who wanted to experience the rollercoaster, egged me into the seat and strapped me in.

"Today is your lucky day Rob," I answered, and I took another drink.

The rest of the party was pure agony and arousal. Both of them danced, almost exclusively the rest of the night. We ate dinner and she sat by him each one touching and holding, not hiding it when inappropriate, merely being friendly as far as the other guests were concerned.

The coup de grace occurred as they gathered their things and we left, Rachel kissing my cheek as she turned to follow him to his car. I stood on the curb and watched them drive off. I was relieved the kids were at her parent's house. It would be a long and lonely night.

It was almost midnight, a couple of hours after I'd watched her drive off, when I got a phone call. Imagine my excitement as I saw Rachel's number pop up on the front screen of the smartphone. I picked up the phone and greeted her.

"Hi," she said. There was activity in the background, music and something more.

She didn't say anything else, and I listened, confused. After a few seconds I asked, "Are you okay?"

"Oh yes," she laughed. Her voice had a strange distant quality. "I'm doing verrrry well, great!" On the word great her voice became sharp and high pitched.

Was she, could she? My mind ran through the possibilities, but there was really only one conclusion, she was with him now.

Again there was more silence. She mumbled something unintelligible and I asked her to repeat herself. "Oh, I just told Rob you are still on the line."

"Is he touching you? Please tell me!" I begged. My cock was in still in my underwear, straight down my leg, stiff and hard.

"You could say that, oh, yes, like that. Yes. Yes. Yes," she repeated and I realized that halfway through the sentence she'd started speaking to him.

"Is he fucking you?" I asked.

"Mmm, hmm," she answered.

I sat there in silence, just listening to my beautiful Rachel, the love of my life and fucking mother of my children get pleasured by Rob Brown. My chest felt like it would burst.

"My pussy," she paused, letting out a guttural moan, "My pussy is getting what it deserves, oh," she breathed sharply, "oh yes!"

I listened to her for a full minute as she cried out.

I've read stories on the internet, read little tales from guys who claimed they've had an orgasm without touching themselves, and although I believed it, I never thought it could happen to me. And in a sense, maybe it didn't. But I wasn't concentrating on my dick either, other than some very weak touching, but my cock spasmed, pumping sperm that dripped against my leg, within my underwear.

"I just came," I told her into the phone, and suddenly I heard a laugh, it was Rob. Had he heard me? Was I on speaker?

"Rob?" I asked. There was a little bit of commotion.

His voice came on the line, full and clear, "So did I."

"Rob!" my wife called out, sounding appalled, but the line went dead.

Epilogue

The flight hadn't been very long, a nice direct flight to Cabo from the west coast. The kids were at grandma's house, and life was good.

The entire time Rachel read a hilariously titled self help book that was a guide to better sex. I thought it was amusing considering we'd had some of the best sex of our life lately. We had learned so much about ourselves over the prior six months.

The dates were my favorite part. I loved sitting at home, wondering how Rachel was going to come home. Sometimes she had a sopping wet gash, and she'd rub it in my face, making me get up close and personal with Rob's handiwork on her pussy, not to mention his sperm. Thank God for the IUD.

He also took her to Hawaii. That was the most agonizing week. It was bliss when she returned, but I really didn't want to repeat that.

Rob's true colors eventually wore on Rachel and she broke up with him.

I quit my job and got a much better one in industry. I have a life again, and can enjoy the kids.

We got into the swinger scene after that, almost by pure chance. What could have been pure embarrassment opened a new door when Rachel found out a good friend swapped partners. She'd met Nikki in a new mother support group, and they'd been pretty close since then. One day after too much wine she let it out of the bag that I'd let her fuck Rob, have a boyfriend. Nikki asked her if we were interested in playing, but nothing turned me on like Rachel getting fucked.

One night as I had sex with Nikki, we could hear Rachel and Nikki's husband in the next room, and I realized my mind and all my thoughts were on my wife and her moans of pleasure.

That night was also the first time Rachel lowered a freshly cum glazed pussy onto my waiting mouth, my brain paralyzed by fear, the smell incredible and I tasted the musky drips, seconds before I planted an open mouth kiss on her wrecked pussy.

It was great.

I can't explain it. It was what it was. So she started going out without me.

Nikki and her husband "broke up" with Rachel because he was developing incredible feelings for her. Rachel and I talked it over. Where did we see our relationship going? What did we want? Did we want to go back to what we had before all this? It had been intense, and very stressful on both of us, even if we loved the sexual energy. We decided to lighten it up.

We picked up a taxi at the airport. It was a typical Mexican taxi, kind of beat up, but the driver was very friendly and pointed out the landmarks and tourist traps and I gave him a nice tip. He pulled into the resort and dropped us off, the staff tagging our luggage as they directed us to check-in.

Rachel had our passports out as we waited behind another couple to register. She was always in charge of things like this on our vacations, she loved dealing with the logistics, talking the front desk into the best room, asking for advice and tips. We couldn't believe we were here, and grinned at each other nervously like 8th graders getting ready to ride a roller-coaster. We struck up a conversation with a nice couple who came in behind us.

One of the ladies behind the counter held up her hand, and we walked over to check in.

"Hello, buenos dias," Rachel said, getting into the flow of the country.

"Welcome to Temptations," said the cute girl behind the counter. There was a chance I would have much less sex on this vacation than Rachel, and condoms would be the order of the day, but I was thrilled.