Sunday morning I woke to something unexpected, the smell of bacon and coffee. I went into the kitchen. Paula was at the table reading the paper, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee in front of her. John was busy in the kitchen. It irked me to have been replaced by him in the kitchen especially after Paula commented about how she was cooking for him.
John was in a good mood, asked me what I wanted. I settled on French toast. I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined Paula at the table. Paula had the uncanny ability to read my emotions even when I thought they were well hidden.
"I was going to cook, but John said he's a much better cook so I let him."
Her revelation took the sting out of being replaced by John in the kitchen.
We ate breakfast, chatted, talked about the movie they had seen, and planned our day.
"John wants me to go with him to church. You're welcome to join us."
I had given up on church a long time ago and politely declined. Paula still attended, but sporadically.
Breakfast over, Paula said, "Since you're not going you can clean up breakfast."
She and John headed to their bedroom to get ready for worship services.
They reappeared a half hour later in their Sunday best, he in a charcoal grey suit and she in a dark blue knee length dress. Her dress was more conservative than anything she wore to the office. She wore hose and her shoes were black, the heels an inch, the toes closed. While her dress didn't show any cleavage it also couldn't hide the fact Paula possessed some big boobs, a lean torso, and a Cardi B ass.
I told them they made a good looking couple which caused them to smile and insist I take a photo. John found his camera, showed me how to operate and I snapped away. They headed to church and I went exploring. First place I headed was Paula's bedroom because I craved seeing ground zero. I looked at the bed which was disappointingly made. The laundry hamper proved more interesting as there were several towels in it. The top ones were from their recent shower, but the one on the bottom was cuckold gold, pay dirt. I pressed it to my face inhaling the aroma of her juices and his spunk, picturing them making love in the dark. I poked around a few more minutes, but didn't find anything to make my penis swell.
The parlor and den weren't interesting. John wasn't a big reader. I went upstairs. The bedrooms had adult sized furniture. I wondered as the kids got older and moved out if John and Mary Beth returned to having boarders. The bedrooms were big. I looked in drawers and discovered their contents were empty. The bathroom had towels and the linen closet was full, but the upstairs was devoid of personality. I pictured the rooms full of children's furniture and toys.
The garage was detached and large enough for two cars and lawn equipment. There was a separate building out back which John said he used as a dark room and place to tinker. It was locked. Other than John and Mary Beth's sexual proclivities, they presented as an average all American family. I was going to work on the yard, but John had done it while Paula and I were at the gym.
Paula seemed in no hurry to change the house to reflect her tastes. I wondered if she was doing so as a courtesy to John. She might be the owner, but it was his house. I was anxious to relocate.
John and Paula didn't return until mid afternoon which I found a bit annoying. They were in a good mood. They had gone to lunch. She had been thoughtful enough to bring me a meal. I only had a few hours before I needed to leave so I felt robbed of our time together. I really hadn't seen much of her.
I thanked her for the food and sat down to eat. The two of them went into the den. I had a clear view of them. Paula sat down and a minute later John asked if she needed a foot massage. She told him she did. I'm green with envy.
The foot massage didn't last long because five minutes later Paula's hose is off, her dress hiked up, and John's face is between her legs enjoying dessert. They act as if I'm not there. I eat my meal as he eats her. She is quite vocal when she orgasms. A minute later she suggests they go to the bedroom. They close the door, but it isn't long before I can easily hear the sounds of them fucking. They go at it for a good half hour. He climaxes, but once, but before he does she has half a dozen orgasms. At one point she pleads with him to cum because she can't take any more orgasms.
I go to my room and pack my suitcase. I wait a half hour for the two of them to make an appearance, but they remain behind closed doors. I am too consumed with jealousy so I quietly exit the house and head to my car. I start the car, put it in drive, and head down the road.
I remind myself cuckolding can be painful, but that doesn't make my bruised ego feel any better. A big cocked, former cuckold, septuagenarian, has pushed me out of the picture. Paula let me stew for two weeks before showing up at my door on a Friday night.
I ignored her knocking, but when she said she wasn't leaving until we talked I decided to open the door.
She asked, "Were you ever coming back?"
I answered with a shrug.
"I thought you loved me."
I assured her, "I do, but..."
"But what? Either you love me or you don't."
"Paula, I cant compete..."
She cut me off, "So that's what this is really about? Your feelings got hurt. You're jealous of John so instead of being a man and talking to me you drive off without saying a damn thing."
"Yes. The reason I said nothing is you didn't appear to be in a receptive mood."
"I was having fun. I thought we were having fun. You're the one who insisted John and I do things together. I thought you were enjoying yourself. You seemed pretty enthusiastic about John getting me pregnant."
"I was having fun until it wasn't fun. Seeing John massaging your feet followed by his head between your legs was too much. He crossed the line and you encouraged it. Those were my..."
"Duties? Are you two and can't share? If he wants to massage my feet and go down on me I'm not going to tell him no."
"But you tell me no."
She looked at me as if I was the village idiot, "He's not my pet. Of course I tell you no. I don't force you to obey. You choose to obey. Are you in chastity right now?"
"I am."
"You have a key, Pet. You could have freed yourself, but you chose not to."
"What would you do if I didn't obey?" I moved closer, invaded her personal space. I didn't intimidate her.
I dropped to my knees. My face was level with her crotch. I reached out and unbuttoned her jeans. I unzipped them. I pulled them and her panties down.
"What would you do?" I asked before pressing my face against her sex, inhaling her scent, feeling her hair against my face.
I reached around and grabbed her buttocks. I stuck my tongue out and ran it between her labia.
She opened her knees as her feet were trapped by her jeans. She then grabbed the back of my head.
"I'd let you eat me, but afterwards I would punish you."
"Punish me for making you feel good?"
No, Pet. For disobeying. There are consequences."
She was wet and getting wetter.
"I'm willing to accept them."
"Pet, I'm going to hold you to it."
She groaned, told me to get her pants off as she wanted to be on her back. I ignored her. I licked her sex until she rewarded me with a flood of juices as she orgasmed screaming loud enough to warrant a phone call to the police or a knock on the door for us to keep quiet because there were kids in the building.
After her orgasm, she kept my head pressed to her sex for several minutes.
"Wow, that was nice and unexpected, Pet."
