Chance Encounter

C sat all alone. He took a sip of his cappuccino thinking it was the best he ever tasted. He immediately wondered if its delicious taste was because of its link to their unique marriage and the very enjoyable evening he was having with his queen, Jean.

He muttered aloud, "For a cuckold, it doesn't get any better than this."

Each time he moved, no matter how slight, the cold, wet cum in his underwear came into contact with his skin reminding him of the pleasure Jean brought him with her toes. He had an admitted foot fetish which Jean took frequent advantage of. As badly as he ached to have his manhood inside her vagina, to feel the soft, wet warmth of her love canal, to thrust in and out of its smooth walls as he stared at Jean, to possess her, her toes massaging his penis to orgasm was a nice consolation prize.

He doubted other men experienced the pleasure of her toes on their cocks. He was certain it was something only he and she shared. Their shared perversions made being her cuckold not only attractive but tolerable. When she closed one door she opened another. He was never totally denied or unwanted. He took great comfort in knowing he and she did things to each other sexually that she didn't do with other men. He knew it wasn't because she would tell them no, but because they had no interest in doing them.

He took another sip and mused about how much better the experience was at 50 than as a young man of 19. That first time with Jose had been sexually powerful, but gut wrenching. He still remembered the cold coffee, wanting a fresh cup after he finished it, and getting none. The other waiters steered clear of his table while Jose escorted Jean through the kitchen and to the storage room where he took possession of her body, fucking her through several toe curling orgasms. Their coupling ended when he emptied his cream filled balls into her. She had been working on mastering her vaginal muscles and as he softened she worked those muscles squeezing from him every last drop of his manjuice.

He moved his leg and felt the cold, wet, sticky reminder of his climax. While the cappuccino was warm and flavorful some things he thought never changed. Being alone. Jean's toes bringing him to orgasm. Feeling inadequate. Ashamed of his passivity. Embarrassed he wanted other men to fuck her. Wanting to be the other man, but knowing he didn't measure up.

His climax courtesy of Jean's toes had been a ten, but it also served to remind him of what another man's cock was enjoying, the feel of Jean's pussy as he pushed in and pulled out. He imagined Jean's pelvis rolling up to meet Jose's thrust and rolling back down as he pulled out. From past experience he knew Jean was having a very good time, her pleasure intensified knowing C knew.

His penis began to twitch and grow as he thought of Jose and Jean having sex. He found himself revisiting that day 31 years ago.

They were in Jean's house. She was on the floor on her back and he was on top of her. She was wearing a peasant dress which was now bunched up at her waist. Her legs weren't wrapped around his waist, but her inner thighs were pressed against his hips. He was on top of her fully dressed. They were making out and rubbing their genitals against the other's when he heard Jean's mother.

He jumped off of her but was too late. Jean's mother said nothing. He expected her to be furious seeing her daughter and her boyfriend dry humping, but she was just the opposite. She smiled at their embarrassment. He looked at Jean who was beet red; whether it was from lust or being caught he didn't know. What he did know was his face felt just as ruddy.

Jean's mom spoke, "When you two lovebirds are through, would you run an errand for me?"

Jean and he answered in unison, "Yes."

Her mom left the room without telling them what she needed and she closed the door behind her. It was as though she was telling he and Jean to pick up where they left off.

They of course didn't. He said, "That was strange. I thought she would be furious."

Jean told him, "My mom knows how much I love you. I've been talking to her a lot about you and I. She knows how badly I want to marry you. She likes you a lot and thinks you're good for me. She wants us to wait, but says we're adults and can make our own decisions."

They kissed almost chastely before leaving the room. Jean's mom gave them some money and told them to have lunch before doing her errands.

Jean said she would drive. They got in her car. She drove them to the same Mexican restaurant where she had gotten him to confess his arousal at her being with other men. She assured him it was more common than he thought. He didn't really think of himself as someone with submissive, cuckold desires, but rather as someone who enjoyed sharing his girlfriend sexually. Jean knew his view of himself was a delusion, a coping mechanism. Theirs was not a hot wife/girlfriend relationship and it certainly wasn't an open one. He had even admitted to her his feelings of inadequacy based on his penis being unable to fulfill her via sexual intercourse and rationalized it as grounds for her to have sex with another man, Leo, she was dating. As her sexual relationship with Leo intensified so too did his submissive, cuckold desires. They bubbled to the surface and rather than driving Jean away they made her love him more.

He wasn't the only one in denial. Jean was even more tormented because what she was doing sexually and where she wanted to take their relationship went against what she had been raised to believe. Good girls waited. If they didn't wait they married the boy they did it with. Sex was only with someone you loved and only occurred in a committed marriage. Men were the boss. Boyfriends and husbands made the decisions.

She didn't like men being the boss in a relationship. She enjoyed being in charge and felt at ease being in control. She wanted to make the decisions. By providence she found in C a man who wanted a woman like her. Her desire to dominate C became impossible to suppress and difficult to not take to excess after she experienced sex with the other man she was dating while dating C. While the sexual intercourse with the other man was pure rapture she wasn't in love with him. She loved C and feared what she had done would drive him away and into the arms of another woman. Discovering it had the opposite effect she found if she played to his weakness she would have him forever. To be happy and in a relationship that worked she concluded he needed a woman like her and she needed a man like him.

She hadn't planned on pushing his buttons when they left the house. He was very supportive of her dating Leo and having sex with him. He was almost too eager to please her with his mouth after Leo came in her. Something about his attitude bugged her. He behaved like he was in control. She wanted it clear she was the one in charge and she was dating Leo for her enjoyment, not her boyfriend's. She was thrilled he got off to it sexually, but he also needed to remember she was no puppet.

They entered the restaurant. The cashier told them to sit where they wanted so they chose a booth sitting across from each other. He ordered coffee and she tea. They looked at the menus, one hand on the menu, the other holding the other's hand.

They looked like every young couple you see on a date, but things quickly heated up. Jean surprised him. He was reading the menu but his mind was drifting to imagined scenes of Leo fucking Jean. Those thoughts turned him on, but even more arousing was the news he received earlier at Jean's house. Her dad insisted she date other men; he didn't want her tied down to any one man. As he saw it, if C and she were meant to be, it wouldn't be a problem. He now wondered and wanted other men to fuck his girlfriend. He felt as though he could handle anything and nothing she did would end what they have. He also saw her behavior as sowing her oats believing she would get it of her system.

Now it was Jean's turn to surprise him. She had slipped off a shoe and pressed her foot against his crotch. He was daydreaming and trying to read the menu. Her foot so rattled him his first reaction was way different than tonight's. He started to jump up, shaking the table and spilling some of his coffee.

Jean looked ready to burst suppressing a laugh. When he realized it was her he felt foolish at his reaction to Jean's sexual overture. He opened his legs and she pressed her foot against his crotch using her toes to locate his balls first. She softly pressed her foot against his sensitive eggs. She was staring at him really hard looking he thought very sultry. She commented as she kneaded them, "You must really trust me to let me do this. I could really hurt you."

He answered back, "I do trust you."

She said, "I'm glad. Don't you think the past month has made us even closer? I didn't think it was possible, but I'm even more in love with you. What I love most about you, besides your soft tongue, is your selflessness. You spoil me."

He agreed. The past month had moments of unbearable pain, but they paled in comparison and duration to the pleasure he derived from Jean's dating the very handsome, hung, muscular, bronzed, policeman, and mentor, named Leo. He was also arrogant, crude, and domineering. He was not vested in her in any way but sexually. If she needed another man to satisfy her sexual itches he was the perfect candidate.

Jean pushed her toes against his scrotum. He wondered if she really knew how fragile a man's testicles were. While he was nervous having her probe his scrotum with her toes it was he admitted a turn on to be so vulnerable. With little effort she could have him doubled over in pain.

She later told him his docility made her wet. She toyed with the idea of squeezing his cojones. While he wore them she considered them her property. She liked he didn't object to her possessiveness. She admitted to herself she was very controlling and demanding. She loved his eagerness to please her and to forgive her.

She wiggled her toes against his testicles. It wasn't gentle but it wasn't rough. It actually felt good but what felt better was when she moved her toes up. She located the root of his penis and began to work her way up. She asked if it felt good and he answered yes. His penis was hard and her toes concentrated on the underside, just below where the head and shaft meet, the sweet spot as she called it.

He mopped up the spilled coffee. Jean's eyes shifted their focus to the waiter standing against the wall. He couldn't see him without turning his head. It was obvious she was looking at something so he asked. She answered, "The waiter. Didn't you notice how handsome he is? He looks so macho."

Her wonderful foot suppressed whatever jealousy he felt. Besides it was he, not the waiter, who was on the receiving end of her toes. She was smiling at him now. He walked over to take their order. He thought she might stop or move her foot but she didn't.

Jean ordered for them. Her eyes never left the waiter's face. He came to recognize that glassy look and the dilated pupils as indicators of her arousal. She even referred to him as her boyfriend when she ordered his meal. The waiter glanced briefly at him, then shifted his focus back to Jean.

He studied the waiter. His nametag said Jose. He was in his late 30s or early 40s. He was short like him. He had a Zapata moustache and thick coal black hair he combed straight back. He wasn't handsome so much as rugged looking. He did look very macho. He wondered if he had been a boxer. He imagined him for some reason as a boxer turned waiter. It was because of how he carried himself. He was very certain of himself. Jean's attention stoked his ego.

He found it a turn on the way she flirted with Jose in front of him. He pretended to pout commenting after he left, "And I'm not macho." She smiled, "No, you're sweet. And sweet is much better than macho."

He told her she was making the waiter's day.

She smiled at him, "Now I'm going to begin making yours. I want you to sit back and enjoy." Jean kept her foot resting on his cock. Whenever she felt his hard on might be flagging, she resumed massaging him with her foot.

Their food soon arrived. Jose served her first. His hand had a pot glove in it. He gently explained to her the plate was hot and asked her to be careful. She put her hand on his and asked him to get us more chips and salsa. He looked at her hand on Jose's and then at his face. Jose knew he was watching but he didn't care. He focused on Jean. He sensed Jose was fencing Jean off from him, marking his boundaries, taking ownership of his girlfriend.

In response to her request, Jose put his other hand on top of hers and said, "En seguida" meaning right away.

Jose put his plate in front of him, but didn't bother to give him the same admonition about the plates being hot. Jean's behavior, her complete control of the situation, excited him and inspired him to behave like a beta male would around the alpha. He looked down when Jose looked at him. He conceded leadership when he wouldn't make eye contact with Jose looking instead at his plate.

The meal itself was good. Jean and he hardly spoke, but the instant she glanced towards Jose he was back at their table refilling her glass. Instead of Jose asking him if he needed a refill, Jean asked him. He spoke to her and she relayed it to him. When he returned with a new cup of coffee he placed it in front of him, but his eyes were focused on Jean's.

Jose returned to his perch, standing against the wall. Jean and he stared at each other. It was unsettling to see her so focused on Jose. Her toes kept him hard. Whenever he worried she brought his penis back to life. He saw it as nothing more than a tease and he felt bad for Jose. Lunch would end and so would Jean's prick tease. He hoped Jose took it well.

He had to turn his head to see Jose making it impossible not to steal a glance without being obvious. He couldn't bring himself to look because he was as caught up in the moment as Jean.

Their eye contact not only continued but intensified. Other than her foot on his penis it was as though she was eating lunch alone.

He found himself looking at Jean's chest while he ate his meal. Her nipples were visibly hard, poking against the material of her dress. He imagined how good it would feel to have his mouth on one of her tits. He knew it would be hours before he would have that opportunity. They would wait until it was dark, make up some pretext to leave the house, and go find a place to be alone.

Their courtship continued. Whenever she wanted Jose to approach her she would place her glass of ice tea next to the edge of the table. When he filled her glass, instead of letting him set the glass down she took it from his hand and thanked him. She engaged him in conversation telling him the meal was delicious. She complimented him on his service. He answered it was always a pleasure to serve a woman as beautiful as her. He moved his head closer and closer to her whenever they spoke. At one point he thought Jose was going to kiss her in front of him, but he didn't.

Jose's boldness astounded and aroused him. He watched Jean and Jose indirectly with his head tilted down. They continued to stare at each other. He told her she had beautiful eyes. She smiled and looked up at him. He then told her she had beautiful hair. She told him it was freshly washed and asked him if he wanted to smell it. He couldn't believe it when Jose bent down and smelled her hair. He asked if he could touch it as it looked so soft. She said yes. He put the fingers of one hand through her hair and ended his touch by caressing her face. She turned to his palm and lightly kissed his hand.

He remembered his mouth hanging open in disbelief just sitting there while his girlfriend let another man touch and smell her hair. When she kissed his hand he was thankful Jean stopped moving her foot or he would have climaxed on the spot. Like a good book he didn't want what he was watching to end.

The moment passed. Their plates scraped clean, Jose took them away and asked Jean if they wanted dessert. Jean said she needed something sweet and ordered them sopapillas. She asked him to bring her boyfriend a coffee and a hot chocolate for her.

Jose had ignored him up to that point. It was when she referred to him as her boyfriend, Jose drilled him with his eyes. His stare and the look on his face bespoke contempt. He briefly met his stare. He wanted to challenge him but didn't, looking down at his plate, Jean's toes consoling him for being weak. He never realized until that moment how much of a foot fetish he had and how aroused he felt by her toes. He stared at her lovely foot, the nails painted bright red, as they stroked the lump in his pants. Any other man would have been furious with the situation. He shouldn't have been aroused at the humiliation but he was. He felt the same way with Leo, but at least with Leo he wasn't in the same room.

His instincts as a man told him he should challenge Jose. Losing a fight wasn't the issue. Neither was being hurt. He didn't because deep down he wanted it to happen. He just couldn't admit he got off to another man seducing his girlfriend in front of him. He told himself it was just a phase she was going through. If he hung in there long enough she would remain his and only his.

Jose brought them the sopapillas. They smelled wonderful. Jean tore a corner off of hers and poured honey into it. She put it up to her mouth and bit into it. Jose stood there watching and asked if she liked it. She said it was wonderful and asked if he was just as sweet. He smiled and said, "Yes, but not nearly as sweet as I imagine you are." She took another bite and some of the honey trickled down the corner of her mouth. Before she could get a napkin, he had used his finger to wipe it from her face.

He stared in disbelief. The honey was on Jose's index finger. Jean thanked him for being so nice. She said the honey was so good she didn't want to waste it. Jose held his hand in front of her face. He could see the honey coating it. She opened her mouth and Jose put his finger in it all the way to the last knuckle. She closed her mouth around it and he slowly removed it. He couldn't help but imagine Jose's finger as a cock and the honey as his sperm. Jean smiled at him and said, "I hope I got it all."

He looked at Jose's crotch. His erection tented the front of his pants. He looked huge. He was breathing hard. Jean thanked him. He remained standing there looking as though he were in a daze. The fog he was enveloped in was his lust. Jean took a sip of her cocoa and another bite of her sopapilla. She continued to look at him and he at her.

He might as well have been invisible. He looked at Jose's hands. On his left was a wedding band. He wondered if Jose had ever been unfaithful before and decided he had. He also pondered what Jean found attractive in men like Jose or Leo. She was always railing about the machista culture but those same men she felt sexually drawn to; she was a contradiction.

It was a good thing the restaurant was nearly empty. There were two other waiters milling about. They must have thought Jose and Jean knew each other and that explained why he hovered at their table. Jean continued eating the sopapilla. After it was done, she finished her hot chocolate tilting her head back as she drained the cup. She put the cup down and asked him if she had a moustache. He smiled and said yes. He started to pick up her napkin to clean her face, but she stopped him and asked him to use his fingers. He took the meaty part of his thumb and ran it across the flesh above Jean's upper lip erasing her moustache. He then held his thumb in front of her lips. Again, she opened her mouth. She grasped his hand with her two hands. She commented on how warm his hand was and said it was a sign he was passionate. He said her hands were soft. His thumb looked huge. He held it extended fully. She put it all the way in her mouth before closing her lips around it. She must have been running her tongue all around it. He closed his eyes, but she continued to stare up at him. She slowly took it out of her mouth and thanked him for cleaning her face. He looked flushed. He saw him as a buck in rut, oblivious to everything around him, but the doe in estrus.