Short and sweet, with very little explicit sex. A straightforward willing cuckold story for your enjoyment. Or is it?
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"Just think about it John," my wife Jenny pleaded. "We don't have to go all the way. We can just find someone and mess around a bit."
"I'm not at all sure about this Jenny," I grunted back, brushing my hair back nervously. "It's a bit of a shock. I had no idea you were so unhappy with our sex life."
"It's not that at all," she sighed, looking at me sympathetically. "You're just fine in bed, but I feel we need a bit of variety."
"You mean you need a bit of variety Jenny," I pointed out. "What you're suggesting is a bit one sided."
"Do you feel the need for another woman John?" my wife asked, knowing that I'd told her just the previous night that she was the only woman I wanted.
"You know I don't," I dutifully confirmed.
"And you got really turned on by that video we watched last night," she carried on. "Two guys with one woman really seemed to be your thing."
"Well I guess it did," I admitted. "But the women in the video hadn't been my wife for the last ten years."
"No but one of the men was her husband," Jenny pointed out with a smile. "That was the whole point of it wasn't it. You said so yourself how hot that made it, with him having to watch that other guy undress and fuck his wife in front of him."
"I guess so honey," I reluctantly agreed. Somewhat more reluctantly than I actually felt about the idea, if I'm being honest. "Where did you find a video like that anyway?"
"Look John," she went on, conveniently ignoring my question. "Watching that video last night and Meg at work telling me about this guy today just seems to have been more than a coincidence, as if it was meant to be. Why don't we go for it honey?"
"It certainly was a coincidence Jenny," I mumbled, pretty sure that it was something more than a coincidence, or at the very least a very convenient one. I didn't want to play my hand too willingly, but truth be told the whole thing did have quite an appeal for me. Weird you're thinking? No not really, but I was going to try to go along with it, even if I felt the need to act reluctant.
"Shall I give him a call then honey," Jenny demanded, the smile that I'd always loved so much lighting up her pretty face. "I've got his number."
"What was his name again?" I asked, playing for time.
"Mike," she replied, her smile becoming a grin.
"And what's he like?"
"I told you I don't really know," she responded happily. "Only that he's good looking, and quite a stud by all accounts."
She was lying of course, but that didn't really change anything, and it was time for me to drop my objections and let things drift in the direction that I actually wanted them to. With a shrug and a drawn out sigh, I effectively gave my wife permission to set up a meeting with Mike the stud. An event that I looked forward to with some excitement, even if I didn't want her to know that.
"Thanks honey," she squealed in delight, rushing over to smother me in kisses and rub them big tits of hers all over me. "I'm sure you'll love it."
Well, I'd sure done it now, hadn't I?
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The call was duly made, out of my earshot I have to add, and a date set for the very next night. The idea was that we'd meet the bugger at a pub that we didn't usually go to and see how Jenny and him got on. If they did, and there was little chance that they wouldn't, then it would be all back to our place for a bit of rumpty-tumpty, the idea of beginning with just a bit of messing about apparently conveniently forgotten.
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So there we found ourselves sitting nursing our first drinks, the pair of us nervously waiting for this guy Mike to arrive. Nervous for different reasons maybe, but the pair of us only too aware of quite how wrong this could go, and what a disaster it could all be.
"Are you sure this is a good thing?" I questioned her.
"We're here now honey," she replied. "We might as well wait and see what he's like."
"Right," I conceded, and took another swig of my beer to try to settle my nervousness.
"I wonder if that's him who just came in?" Jenny whispered to me, indicating a big, well set, good looking, dark haired guy who was wandering in our direction glancing around the bar as if searching for someone.
"Jenny? John?" He threw out the question, looking, or perhaps pretending to be unsure.
"Yes. You must be Mike," my wife returned the deception, not that it actually worried me.
"Pleased to meet you John," he greeted me offering me his hand, which I readily accepted. "Your wife is even more beautiful than I was expecting."
Smooth bastard!
