I stared at them and knew the look on my face matched those of the four other husbands scattered throughout the club as they watched their wives dance with these older men who prowled the bar in search of young wives to seduce and bed.
My buzz wasn't solely from the alcohol I had consumed, but by Paula and Aaron and the other young couples who had been joined by a third. We were birds of a feather. Cuckoo birds. We shared a common desire, to cuckold or be cuckolded. Her fingernail gently stroking Aaron's face as she reminded him she was married was more arousing than when she held Rusty's cock in her hand.
They got up and returned to the dance floor. The band played its last song. The lights came on. They returned to the table she leading him by the hand. She looked excited.
She asked, "Are you okay to drive?"
I told her I was.
She rummaged through her purse and handed me the car keys.
"I'll see you in the morning."
He didn't gloat because he didn't need to. She gave me a quick peck on the lips and they headed to the exits. I thought about telling her to wait, but didn't. Looking around I noticed I wasn't the only married man whose wife had left with another man.
We all waited until the club emptied before we made our walk of shame to our respective cars. I drove to Paula's house, let myself in, changed into my pajamas, and got in bed. I had the other key to the lock securing my cage and could have freed it, masturbated, and secured my penis in it again, with Paula being none the wiser, nut didn't.
I luxuriated in the feel of my swollen manhood confined to its leather prison as I pictured them making love, and fell asleep. My sleep was fitful, my dreams vivid, my bladder hyperactive.
I had eaten, showered, dressed, and was looking at the real estate listings when the doorbell rang. I mulled over how I intended to handle Paula. What happened the previous night wasn't spontaneous, but calculated. She might have thought she was being clever, but that caress revealed her hand. I figured why not play the hurt wife; after all I was her pet.
I opened the door. It was Paula. I stood there blocking her entrance.
She asked, "Are you going to let me in?"
I moved aside. She entered. I closed the door and headed to the kitchen. She followed.
She asked if there was coffee.
I pointed to the pot of coffee.
"You're not going to get it for me?" she asked sounding a bit nervous.
Being rude wasn't in my nature and being submissive was. I poured her a cup.
She took a seat at the table.
I served her cup. Always the good husband, the adoring pet, I asked, "Are you hungry?"
She looked more relaxed and confident, "Actually, I am. An omelette would be nice.
I made her an omelette, toast, and poured her a glass of orange juice.
I sat down. She started wolfing down her food.
"I noticed you're looking at houses. Did you find anything?"
I sat down beside her and told her I found a couple of prospects.
She smelled of booze, smoke, and if my head was between her legs, cum.
She said she needed a shower.
She asked if I wanted to join her.
I declined telling her I needed to get the kitchen done and we were running late.
She asked if I was sure.
I told her I was. She sounded disappointed.
We were out the door thirty minutes later.
She drove. I gave directions as I had the addresses and street map.
We looked at three houses and didn't see anything coming close to what she wanted. We did like the older neighborhoods the houses were in. She was done, but I begged her to drive around.
"Maybe, we will see something we like."
"But, it won't be for sale."
"Please, Mistress."
She looked at me and said, "Thirty minutes."
I spotted it. For sale by owner. Open house today.
"Mistress, stop the car."
It was a stately two story home. The open house had already ended she pointed out.
"Let's ring the doorbell anyway."
She agreed.
We stood on the porch.
"I like the exterior. This is a beautiful porch."
We heard footsteps. An old man opened the door.
"We saw the sign. I know we're late, but we would to see the house."
We looked trustworthy. He let us in.
"You're a young couple, I'd be surprised if this is what you're looking for, but I'll give you a tour."
We asked why he was selling, He said he should have sold it years ago as the house was too big for an old widower, but the memories it held were so sweet.