Hannah Forever Single Ch 05

Hannah Forever Single - - Chapter 05

Hannah and I were too spent to finish my story about my wife and best friend cuckolding me after her costume party. Frankly, the excitement of what was happening with Hannah and me was eclipsing the trauma of what my wife and best friend put me through. That was all part of Hannah's magic. She was ten years younger, but so much wiser. She'd gone through a lot and with the support of her mentor, she had put much of her own trauma behind her and established herself as an independent artist -- even though that art was courting men on the internet into giving her cash to talk to her and see her play with herself (and others.)

But ever since Hannah and I met randomly at a bar and discovered our similar tattoos symbolizing renewal, she had taken me under her wing and helped my rebirth. As we held hands in bed after the long night of sex and talk (and sex) the golden dragon emerging from an egg on her inner arm overlapped the phoenix on my inner arm rising from the ashes, literally protecting it.

"See? You're saving me," I said.

"No, baby, you just found the right person to help you save yourself," Hannah whispered. "Plus, as of last night..." and she snaked her other hand down my chest to rest against my groin, "You have given yourself to me, lock, stock... and cock."

It was true. Last night, I recounted the beginning of the story of my long night with Rick and Chelsea, where they finally forced me to stop pretending and accept my place as their cuckold. And halfway through the story, Hannah had interrupted me to help me understand my role in setting up their betrayal. And to consummate my new insight, Hannah invited me to a new level of our relationship.

Hannah jokes she is forever single. If I had fantasies of being her boyfriend, she snuffed those out early. Instead, we were roommates and partners -- both in business and in sex. And last night I committed myself to her as property. I belonged to her now and only she knew what that meant. Internally, I vowed never to question it, just as I would never question her requests. I felt so strange as I lay next to her, hoping that for as long as I she let me be in her life, I could trust her and let go. I could get out of my head and just be that animal part of me that needed to feel her pleasure as my own.

"I thought you'd be more nervous," she said.

"I'm excited, but at peace, you know?"

"Yeah." She squeezed my hand. "This is new for me, too, John. It's an experiment. Like, every day with you has been one. I feel like I have all these theories in my head, but with you I get to apply them. I'm going from science to engineering."

"I'm Hannah's experiment."

"My monster." She squeezed my growing erection. "Oh, it's alive!"

Things went back to normal the next couple of days. We had businesses to run. I tended to my web security clients in my office. She spent time on camera with her clients. We saw each other mainly in the kitchen, which was, I'm sure, more interesting for me than it was for her because she often wore lingerie, some cute costume, or barely more than thong underwear. If I'm honest, I kept the house warm just so she wouldn't need to reach for a robe on her way out of her studio.

Today she was in a sheer white bra and panty set that contrasted beautifully with her lightly tanned skin. The cut of her sheer white underwear was so low that her entire light patch of pubic hair was visible; it covered only her cleft, and that was plainly visible. It felt like living with an Instagram model (because she was) except that this one had sandwich crumbs at the corner of her mouth and a gold chain around her waist adorned with tiny keys.

"How's work?" she said as she plopped down in her chair across the small table from me with the sandwich and celery I plated for her.

"Good. Straightforward stuff today. Walking through permission use cases. You?"

"Quiet. Except for the two clients in tears, because I wouldn't let them orgasm for another week. So... same."

I laughed. "Babies."

"You say that now..."

I looked up at her in shock. She shrugged and took another bite. "I'm still deciding."

I slowly chewed my sandwich.

"Here, let me think on it some more," she said as she lifted her bare foot under the table and pressed it between my legs. "Hm. The idea's growing on me."

My lie detector, as Hannah sometimes called my erection, was going off.

I tried to divert her. "Have you ever done that before? In real life?"

She said, "These are pretty real to my clients," jingling the chain of keys.

I shrugged, trying not to look too interested in joining them.

She said, "But, no, I haven't. Kelly, though, had a boyfriend who was into it."

Kelly was Hannah's best friend and sometime scene partner (and onetime lover.) She was the daughter of Beth Johnson, Hannah's mentor and the woman I have to thank for Hannah being essentially my sex trauma life coach.

I said, "How did that go for Kelly?"

"She said it was fun except that she enjoyed fucking too much to keep him locked up for long."

I nodded, feeling a little relief.

Hannah laughed, seeing through my faux indifference. "I told her there were other ways to solve both problems."

I looked up at Hannah, who grinned.

"Win. Win." She said and took a bite of celery stalk.

"Did she?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Let's just say he was far less eager to share than

some

." She popped the last of the celery in her mouth. She crunched away as she cleared her plate to the sink. I eyed her round ass marked by the pink imprint of the one heel she had been sitting on while the other had rested on my crotch. I felt its absence acutely.

I said, "Did Beth know about all that?"

Hannah turned to me and leaned against the counter by the sink. "She didn't judge, if that's what you mean. Beth was supportive of whatever Kelly and I did -- even when it was with each other. She was patient and open, which meant that we would still go to her for advice -- eventually."

Hannah spread her arms out along the counter. I admired her beauty in these casual moments. Her nipples were more inverted, but the pink areolae would get puffy when excited. She was tall and slender with the long legs of a dancer. That was how she met Kelly -- at the dance studio they practically grew up in.

I said, "What was Beth's advice about the caged boyfriend?"

Hannah laughed. "It was a fun conversation for sure. Nothing about men surprised Beth. She always had insight, though. She understood how shame shapes the mind. She also understood how difficult it was to change those patterns once set. So, her advice was always to lean into it and try to change the context."

I felt that sink in. Of course, that's what we'd been doing all this time.

"So, did he... adjust?"

"He was game. But I think Kelly grew bored with it. Honestly, I think she was more into women and just liked his enthusiastic head."

She tilted her head toward me on that point. I raised my hands up in surrender. "I don't need any incentives with you... ma'am."

"True," she said. "But perhaps there are

levels

."

Ouch. OK

. "So, what would she say to you now about us?"

Hannah shifted her gaze far away, through the wall. "Her go-to phrase, whenever she was withholding her opinion, was, 'whatever brings you peace.'" Hannah rubbed the tattoo over her rib cage, 'serenity.' "That's what this is," Hannah said. "I got it when..."

I stood up and put my arm around her. I didn't know the full story, but a while back, I inferred Beth had died.

"How long ago?" I said.

"A year. Almost two." She wiped a tear from her cheek.

I hugged her. All I wanted now for her was peace.

Later that night, Hannah was getting undressed in her room. I was already naked on her bed. She had the main bedroom. I had a single bed in my office where I slept whenever we weren't making love, which wasn't often these days.

Hannah hung the gold chain of keys up on a hook next to the door. It was the last thing she removed. As she ran her fingers down the line of tiny keys, she said, "I would never put you with these."

I felt a moment of pride. Then I realized it meant she was still thinking about locks.

"I'd put you someplace special," she said.

She slipped in next to me, pulled the blankets over, and cuddled up. Her smooth, cool skin sparked against mine as I wrapped myself around her to warm her.

She nuzzled my neck. "I want to hear more," she said.

#

For the rest of the night of the Halloween party, my wife was openly Rick's girl. She danced with him. She kissed him. She let him fondle and feel her as casually as if he was her man. My heart ached because she looked so free and happy.

We were at the Halloween party that she and her co-workers and friends set up. The party was at the pool of a hotel and Rick had booked a room for us next to the pool.

Earlier that night, Chelsea had taken me onto the dance floor and, during a slow song, had whispered words that punched through all my denials about whether she and Rick had been fucking behind my back. "Tonight you watch," she had said, which sent me into a tailspin of anxiety and desire.

The evidence that they'd been fucking was obvious. I had the words on the tip of my tongue just as I had Rick's cum on the tip of my tongue as I lapped it out of my wife's pussy each night afterward. But I couldn't confront them. I couldn't say it out loud. And as Hannah helped me to understand, I might not have wanted the humiliation to end. It was an open secret, but tonight Chelsea made it clear there would be no more pretending. Before the night was over, I would see.

Most of the night I sat at my table, nursing a drink, trying not to get too drunk, and I watched my wife dance and flirt. She danced a lot with Rick, but she flirted openly with everyone, even her woman friends. It was a coming out party for her too. Her costume was the Red Queen from

Alice in Wonderland

. Rick was the Mad Hatter, and I was Alice.

Chelsea had convinced me it would be fun to go dressed in a theme and funny if I was Alice, but until tonight, I hadn't seen the costumes. They were, of course, the hot versions. My blue dress had a micro skirt with frilly layers that made it puff out and barely covered the panties (that barely covered my cock.) I had to wear the top of my dress off the shoulders and I wore a blond wig with a black bow. I wasn't entirely sure it wasn't a Sailor Moon outfit. I didn't have to wear makeup, thank God, just a little lip stain. I don't think I'd have made it out the door.

I should not have let Chelsea out the door in her costume. It was essentially lingerie. She wore a red heart jeweled crown. But the rest of the outfit was a lacy bustier that barely covered her generous breasts. She had to frequently pull up the lace to cover her areolae. (Not frequently enough.) She had a similar micro skirt to mine that failed to cover her very sheer panties. Their heart pattern couldn't hide the cleft of her bare vulva, if you were close enough and familiar enough with it to see. Her thigh-high stockings matched the panties, and she wore bright red high heels.

She was so exposed and seemed so comfortable that she even stopped pushing people's hands away when they tried to touch her. Women would 'admire the fabric' as they stroked her breast with the back of their finger or lifted her skirt to admire the craftsmanship of her panties. Men made few pretenses. They casually cupped her ass or wrapped an arm around her waist or up her thigh.

Rick didn't stop them. He seemed to relish their attention on her. I didn't stop them. I knew I had already given away my voice long ago when I failed to confront Rick or Chelsea about their affair.

While I was sitting at my table watching Rick and Chelsea talk with a couple by the bar, a woman sat down next to me. I had seen her earlier in the evening talking with a man. She wore a hot nurse's costume. It was all white with the old-fashioned hat, a deep décolletage, and a tiny skirt slit high up her leg, exposing far up her inner thigh. Earlier in the evening, she and her date had seen my conversation play out with Chelsea and something about the way they had whispered, smiled, and laughed had made me feel even more exposed. I imagined they knew everything.

She said in an Indian accent, "They make a very cute couple."

I looked from Chelsea to her. She was short and had smooth dark skin and eyes. She was curvy, echoed in her bow-shaped lips.

Feeling the sting of her earlier laughter at my expense, I said, "Where's your date?"

"He wasn't my date. Just a co-worker," she said. "Besides, he's more into men."

I nodded. "Do you work with Chelsea?"

"Not like this," she said, laughing. "She's... having fun tonight."

"Yes." I shifted in my seat.

"Are you?" she said.

I looked at her. "Tonight? I'm in Wonderland."

She smiled. "Yeah, yeah. That's good. Very good." She looked back at Chelsea. "She's very sexy, your wife."

"Stunning," I said.

"You are fortunate."

"I love her."

"You must. Everyone has a secret crush on her." She sipped her drink, and I realized she was talking about herself. "Are you a generous husband?"

I took a beat to catch her meaning, and it was so plain, I didn't have a defense for it.

I said, "I... I suppose that's one way to describe me. Tonight... Tonight I'm very generous."

"Do you think she'll dance with me?" she said.

I felt awkward at the implication, so I took my usual tack and answered the overt question instead of the subtext. "Sure, she loves to dance."

"Very good, then," she said, getting up. As she moved past me, she put her hand on my shoulder. "Parvathi," she said, holding out her hand. I shook it. "You look very pretty tonight too." She winked at me and walked to the dance floor. I couldn't help but admire the curve of her ass peeking out under the short nurse's skirt.

When she approached Chelsea, I watched the scene play out. Parvathi asking something. Chelsea reacting with surprise and then enthusiasm. Rick grinning at them as they went to the dance floor. First a couple of fast dances, then a slow one. Parvathi talking, looking up at Chelsea's face with a gleam in her eye.

Rick joined them, they talked, and I saw him pointing off toward our room. Parvathi smiled. She looked at Chelsea, who shrugged and said something else. Then both Chelsea and Parvathi looked at me. Parvathi laughed and then looked from Chelsea to Rick. She smiled and hugged Chelsea.

Rick grabbed Parvathi's hand, spinning her around so that her skirt flared. Her white underwear had tucked into her ass, exposing more of the curve, but she didn't adjust herself.

Chelsea came back to my table. She sat on my lap and ground her ass against my lap.

"Goodness! Should I have you go jack off again?" she said, clearly feeling my erection, as we both watched Rick and Parvathi.

"N-no." I was honestly afraid she would.

Chelsea ground her ass down on my cock again. She said, "Parvathi is sexy, right? She called you a 'generous husband.' I like that. Better than

other

terms I've heard."

She jumped up, nearly breaking my cock in two.

"Well, better dance while I still can. It's getting late. We'll be turning in soon." She stretched her arms in a fake yawn. Then she said, "Oopsies," and tucked her right breast back in her bustier before toddling off to dance again.

I wondered what 'other terms' Chelsea had heard. Was that part of Rick's tutelage? Had he fed her categories of porn to feed her fantasies, just like he had groomed her to use me for blow job practice? I couldn't imagine my naïve wife being excited by videos, but she loved romance books. And there was no end of erotica ready to amp up her curiosity.

As the party wound down and the bar closed, most people left. Many hugged Chelsea goodbye as if she was de facto hostess. Finally, Chelsea and Rick came back to the table. Chelsea held Rick's arm and leaned into his side. Her bustier had slid again, exposing most of both areolae, but she didn't bother fixing herself.

She said, "It's time, Johnny." She looked up at Rick. The lust was clear in her eyes.

Rick said, "Come on, buddy, the night is just getting started."

Chelsea slapped Rick's shoulder and laughed. "Don't be mean," she said as they walked away.

I followed a few steps behind as we made our way through the gate and across the small walkway to the patio of our room. Rick and Chelsea looked like any other romantic couple. I watched her ass sway as she supported herself against him.

The sliding patio door was open, and they didn't look back as I followed them inside the room. It had a living room of sorts, and a wet bar. A small hallway went off to the bedroom and bathroom.

I hadn't seen Parvathi in a while, so I assumed that had fizzled out. I felt relieved. She was super sexy, but I didn't know if I could handle having a witness to what Chelsea had promised. During the entire party, the phrase, 'tonight, you watch,' went around in my thoughts, followed closely by 'You'll want everything?' That's what I did while Chelsea and Rick played out their first public date: I watched and wanted

everything

.

I sat awkwardly on the couch, still not sure how to sit in my frilly skirt, which pushed up, exposing my panties. I held it down with one hand.

Rick handed Chelsea a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. She downed it thirstily, water dripping down her neck and into her bustier. She was still shining with dew from the dancing and slightly out of breath. Just then, I heard Parvathi's voice coming out of the hallway bathroom.

"Is this what you were thinking?" she said. She had a big purse in one hand and a pair of handcuffs dangling from the index finger of her other hand, which she held out to Chelsea. Rick nodded. Chelsea took the cuffs and walked over to where I was sitting on the couch. She stood over me, holding the cuffs. They were real steel with padded linings. Chelsea looked at me seriously.

"For tonight," Chelsea said. "Rick would feel more comfortable if you could wear these. I mean, it was Parvathi's suggestion, really."

Parvathi smiled at me and waved her fingers.

I felt a panic rise. All their eyes were on me. It suddenly felt like a ritual -- a small wedding. Parvathi would be our witness, after all. I wasn't sure if I was to be the best man or the flower girl. Even though I had fantasized about a night like this, I had never pictured it like this. I felt overcome with fear. The other feeling that overwhelmed me was desire.

"Stand up, Johnny," Chelsea said.

I did. Our matching skirts pressed against each other as she stepped close to me.

"Turn around," she said. "Put your hands behind you."

I did. I felt the coolness of the cuffs on my wrists. She locked them tightly in place. Fortunately, the padding helped them not cut in as much. But they weren't toys. Now helpless, she stroked my exposed, heaving shoulders. She whispered, "Are you ready, my

generous

husband?"

In fear, I shook my head no. She twisted on my shoulders to turn me around to face her.

"That's too bad, Johnny." She shook her head. "Because for the rest of the night, you have no choice. Tonight, I get what I want, but..." She reached down, lifted my skirt, and stroked my erection, poking up over the band of the panties. "I can tell it's what you want too."

"N- No, please," I said.

"Save the begging for later," she said as she walked over to Rick. She draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him.

Parvathi watched them and me. She pulled down one side of the top of her nurse's uniform, exposing her full, round breast. The white material contrasted with the darkness of her skin and large areolae. She played with her nipple as she checked my reaction. I could only stand and watch, my knees trembling.