I had heard of support groups for lots of things: alcoholism, sex addiction, gambling, parents whose kids have various problems. Until four months ago, I had never heard of one for cuckolds, husbands who caught their wives in bed with other men and liked it. I was shocked when I got that mysterious email inviting me to join the group.
At first I thought it was someone's idea of a sick joke. Why would anyone consider going public about his wife's cheating? It wasn't very public. There was only the small number of members who knew about the group, and the members were vary careful about who they invited to join them. I still don't know how they found out about my finding my Sandy fucking our neighbor, or about how I enjoyed watching them. I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself.
I was the fourth to speak that night. I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about my experiences. After hearing the first three speakers, I had the confidence to get up in front of the group. Each of them had had a hint of some kind as to what was happening, but I had none at all. That tore my heart out. Sorry. I'm rushing things again.
"Hi, I'm Mark, and I'm a cuckold."
"Hi, Mark."
Sandy and I are what everyone call the ideal couple. We have two children, a boy and a girl. We are active in the PTA. We go to church every Sunday. Sandy is the treasurer for our congregation. I'm an usher. She's a stay-at-home mom. I run my own business. We represent the America dream, self-sufficient by means of hard work. We own a nice home in a nice neighborhood with a perfectly manicured lawn and two late model luxury cars in the two-car garage. We are wholesome enough to make a saint sick.
One day about a year ago, I felt a little under the weather at the store. I wasn't sick. I didn't have a fever or any symptoms of the flu or a cold. Basically I had a case of the blahs. I told my shift manager I was going home for the rest of the day. He was to close the store and make the bank deposit.
Once I got into my car, I started feeling better. Maybe there was something in the air conditioning system. The ducts hadn't been cleaned for a couple of years, so there could have been some molds building up in them. I made a mental note to have them cleaned. It was eleven-thirty, so I decided to get some lunch before going home.
I should tell you a little about Sandy at this point. She is a very beautiful woman. Her figure is perfect. She keeps it that way by working out at the local health club three days a week. Even after nursing two children, her breasts are still firm. They're big, but they don't rest on her ribs. She does have a couple stretch marks on her waist, but you have to look for them. Her bottom is round. Her belly is taut. She can wear the skimpiest bikini without embarrassment. Just thinking about her flawless body is enough to make me horny. Her sapphire eyes contrast nicely with her auburn hair and her alabaster skin. She has high cheekbones and a constant, natural smile. I think it was her smile that I fell in love with.
There was a gentlemen's club a couple blocks from my store that my friends had told me served pretty good sandwiches as well as the expected forms of entertainment, i.e., strippers and lap dancing. I had never been in one before. Something drew me there. I can't explain it to this day, but I felt drawn there.
A very pretty girl, probably in her mid-twenties greeted me and led me to a vacant table. I had a good view of the stage where another of the waitresses/dancers did a striptease.
My waitress reminded me of Sandy. She had big tits, a flat tummy, long straight legs, high cheekbones, and a warm smile. Her uniform, if it could be called that, consisted of a G-string and a bra that just covered her nipples. "I'm Candy. Do you see what you want, or would you like a menu?" she asked seductively. I asked for a menu and a glass of iced tea. She returned with both in a minute.
While I was waiting for Candy to return to take my order, I looked around. The tables were about eighteen inches in diameter. The seats looked like three-person cushioned benches. Dividers kept me from seeing the people at the adjacent tables. The low stage was about ten feet in front of me.
She returned to my table immediately after taking my order to the kitchen. "Would you like me to dance for you while you're waiting for your sandwich and fries?" she asked.
"That sounds like a pleasant way to pass the time," I said.
"Would you like a plain strip or a lap dance? A strip is twenty and a lap dance is fifty." I handed her a fifty. "I want you to sit in the middle of the seat and put our arms out to your sides." I complied with her instructions.
She began swaying her hips in time with the loud music. Leaning forward she swept her long tresses across my lap. With each pass her face got a little closer to my crotch until her mouth was within an inch of my zipper. Next she straightened up and turned her back to me with her hips still undulating from side to side. She opened the catch on the front of her bra and tossed the tiny garment on my table. Her bare bottom stared at me invitingly. Holding her hands out with the palms parallel to the floor, she moved her head from side to side in the style of an ancient belly dancer. Slowly she turned around to face me. Her breasts were capped with half-inch high erect nipples that begged my hands to caress them. Again she turned her back to me. She bent down and looked at me between her legs. "Spread your legs," she whispered, which I did.
Candy backed up until her hips pressed against my crotch. My dick stiffened as she rubbed her fanny on my pants. Instinctively I placed my hands on her hips. "Sorry," she said softly, "no touching. I can touch you in certain places, but you can't touch me. I know it's unfair, but that's the rule." Reluctantly I put my hands back on the seat cushion. Her teasing continued. She ground her bottom into my lap giving me a raging hardon. "I love the way that feels. Your wife is a very lucky woman." Her right arm snaked around my neck and pulled my head down so my left ear was next to her lips. "I get off at four. I want to know how you would feel inside me."
"That's very flattering," I whispered back, "but my wife would kill both of us."
She continued her movements without missing a beat. After a couple minutes, she stood, pushed my knees together, and sat on my lap with her hardly covered pussy against my turgid cock. "Are you sure I can't change your mind? I'm not a prostitute, so it would be free."
"Thank you, but I can't."
She pressed her boobs against my chest and crushed her mouth to mine. I placed my left arm around her ribs and my right hand on her left hip. Slowly I caressed her side from her hip up to the level of her breasts. I could feel the urge to cum. "If you keep that up," she whispered, "we'll both have wet pants." As tempting as Candy was, I still had wedding vows to honor. The song she had been dancing to ended. She stood up and put her bra back on. "I'll get your order."
Candy left the check when she returned with my sandwich and fries. The food was better than I had expected considering the nature of the establishment. After eating, I turned over the check to get the total. It was much less than I expected. Beneath it was a note that said, "Let me know if you change your mind. Candy." I smiled. If ever I was tempted to stray, I knew where to go.
I got home at one. The front door of our house was unlocked, which surprised me. I looked up and down the street hoping I might see Sandy in front of one of our neighbors' house. There was no sign of her. I went inside and closed the door without locking it. If she was outside, I didn't want her to be locked out.
In the kitchen I looked out the window over the sink to see if she was in the back yard, but she wasn't in sight. I opened the refrigerator to get a beer when I heard a male voice calling, "Saandyy." I recognized the voice. It was Bob, the carpenter who lived across the street. He often got off work early on hot days, or so Sandy had told me. The temperature had been in the nineties that day.
"In the bedroom," I heard her answer.
By the time I got to where I could see into the living room, he was headed down the hallway to the master bedroom. His back was to me, so he didn't see me see him stripping off his clothes and dropping them on the floor as he went. "Are you ready for a hard time?"
"I sure am," she replied.
"What are we going to do if Mark ever finds out about us?" he asked.
"He is so wrapped up in his store he'll never suspect a thing. Even if I have to give you up, I still have Mike and Fred. I'm so lucky to have swinging neighbors who will take care of my needs."
I heard his heavy construction boots hit the floor. I tiptoed down the hall. They hadn't closed the bedroom door. When I saw the open door, I dropped down to my knees to create as small a profile as possible. I moved to the door and peeked in. She was sitting on the edge of the bed completely naked. She had his left testicle in her mouth. His hands caressed her hair as she sucked gently on his right one. "You do that so well," he muttered. "Does Mark know what he's missing?"
