Spoiler Alert.
I've recently received some criticism from certain Anons concerning the types of characters I write about. But I'm not going to change. So for those of you who don't like stories about wives with big tits and men with big, fat cocks then look away now and do not continue to read on.
Please also be aware that there is no element of BTB or RAAC in this story. There is however an element of cuckoldry.
For those few of you who are now left and are not put off by any of this - enjoy!
TeamEquipe
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We'd been in the cinema foyer for about ten minutes or so when I first saw middle aged pudgy man. It wasn't his build that drew my attention. He was just a small, squat man with a substantial beer belly wearing an understated green and brown check three piece suit that had clearly seen better days. Nothing unusual about that.
It wasn't his appearance either. He was nearly bald apart from a circle of wispy grey hair at the back of his head that ran from one ear to the other. And he obviously had that stupid misplaced idea that he would look younger if he wore it a bit longer. So it was brushing against the collar of his shirt. Somebody should have told him he was being foolish because it just looked like he was overdue a decent haircut.
I only noticed him because of the way he was looking at my wife. Now don't get me wrong, lot's of people look at my wife and I usually don't give it a second thought. But with him it stood out. It was the way he cocked his head to one side as he checked her out, his eyes running up and down her body several times, like he was scanning her bar-code. It was very pronounced and what made it worse was the way he was continually licking his lips as he did so.
I could understand why he would want to look at her. She's not stunningly beautiful but she has an nice homely quality about her that quite a few men seem to find quite attractive especially as she's a blonde. But get her dressed up to the nines with her make up on, then that's quite another matter entirely. She can look really hot and I've then seen quite a few men openly lusting after her.
I can't say as I blame them. I would do too if she wasn't my wife. Drifting towards her late thirties Cheryl's still retained her curvy figure even after blessing me with two children. Her body was pretty good before and I'm proud of the way she's kept herself in trim since. She's certainly put together quite nicely with large 34DD breasts, a nice ass and very shapely legs. Oh and I should add she has full pouty lips that I think just beg to be kissed.
So it goes without saying that she's been chatted up and flirted with on numerous occasions but she's always handled it well. I trust her judgement enough not to interfere even if I think things are getting a little bit out of hand. We'd long ago decided that if the going got too heavy it was up to her to diffuse any uncomfortable situation that might arise before it spiralled out of control. That would also hopefully stop me from getting into any more fights trying to defend her honour, which is something I'd done a couple of times when we were younger.
Anyway, tonight she'd dressed up a little bit more than usual. Nothing outrageous, just a nice blouse, a skirt and a pair of high heels. As an official date night treat I'd taken her for a pre show meal. She'd drunk a little wine; well more than a little really. I wanted her primed and ready for me later as I'd been reliably informed that the film was sure to get her in the mood!
She possibly already was because sometime during the evening she'd craftily unfastened a few more buttons of her blouse and was now showing me some cleavage. There wasn't an outrageous amount on display, just enough to tease me but more than enough to hint at the greater treasures that lay hidden within. Her skirt was short and lengthwise came somewhere between mid thigh and her knees but high enough to show the distinct curvature of her thighs. As I mentioned previously, my wife had great legs. The skirt was loose fitting but still clung enticingly to the firm swell of her delectable round full ass. A pair of strappy high heel stiletto sandals completed her outfit and as it was a warm evening she was bare legged.
Finally we were allowed into the cinema that was showing our film. As we filed in I lost sight of pudgy man and soon forgot about him. I manoeuvred my wife towards the back of the theatre, not quite the back row, a bit lower than that. I was more interested in getting her into some of the seats at the side. In my experience this is always the least occupied area as most people automatically gravitate to the centre seats. She didn't question my prompting but her raised eyebrows and a wry smile suggested she knew what I was hoping for.
I found the aisle I wanted and entered first and walked along to the end taking a seat not quite up against the wall. I'd carefully selected the spot thinking we would be isolated enough that I may get a little bit of action when the film got to the racy bits. You know, relive our youth so to speak. Not the back row but good enough! And so far, I'd been right. We were sat alone.
But as Cheryl settled into the seat next to me I felt a griping pain in my stomach. It had come from nowhere but it was fairly intense for a few seconds. And then it was gone. Eventually the cinema lights flickered and dimmed as the adverts and the trailers for upcoming films came on. Cheryl crossed her legs and I put a hand on her knee and gave it a loving squeeze. She looked into my eyes and smiled. Encouraged I slid my hand along her leg and under her skirt and as I did the griping pain returned with a vengeance.
I struggled on for a few minutes but the griping pains just got worse. I could hear my stomach grumbling and I badly wanted to pass wind hoping that would help ease the situation. But I knew without a doubt that if I did I would probably embarrass myself.
I toughed it out until the film started. I leaned over to my wife, "Cheryl, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to go the the toilet," I whispered.
She tore her eyes away from the cinema screen for a second and shot me a withering look.
"Seriously; couldn't you have gone earlier!" she whispered back with a hint of disdain. She shook her head and turned her attention back to the screen.
There was no point trying to explain. I grimaced my reply as the griping pain intensified but I doubt she saw it. It was fairly dark where we were sitting now the lights had gone down.
I stood and edged my way along the aisle. I felt awful and the sound of disappointment in her voice hadn't helped. She'd wanted to see this film for some time and I'd finally allowed her to talk me into going. I'd resisted at first, thinking it was just another chick flick until I was advised by a work colleague to read the reviews. It seemed it had some pretty hot scenes in it. According to him, after he'd taken his wife to see it she'd almost raped him when they got back home. That would do for me. It had been a while since my wife had let me touch her intimately. Maybe I would get lucky tonight.
I got past my wife and was about half way along the aisle when I saw the people at the end stand up. An older man was pushing past them. He seemed eager to get past me too. Even though I leaned back as much as I could to let him through he still barged into me in his haste to get by. In spite of that I paid him scant regard as the people in the row behind began to grumble their objections about their viewing being disturbed.
"Sorry, sorry," I mumbled to them as he elbowed his way past me. As I turned to carry on with my quest to reach the toilets I saw him plump himself down in a seat that was only three places away from Cheryl. Not an ideal choice for him to make especially with what I had planned for my wife later. He was much too near. I'd have preferred him to be further away, or better still in another aisle altogether.