Cucing the Snowbound Couple

*** Disclaimer ***

The following story is a work of fiction. It contains themes of cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, and NTR. If this isn't the fetish for you... oh hell, if you've read 5 chapters with the word "Cuck" literally in the title, this is definitely the fetish for you! Enjoy!

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Chapter 6...

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You know, it didn't always used to be like this— my wife sneaking around and wildly fucking some meat head stranger behind my back. When I first met Alexandra, a.k.a. "Alex", we were inseparable. We laughed. I remember laughing a lot. When she got on a roll, she had this intoxicating cackle that sounded like an evil mastermind. I used to tease her that she laughed like she was a cartoon villain who just tied somebody to the rail road tracks.

For Christmas our first year of dating, she got us matching Onesie pajamas, complete with footies. We looked ridiculous— like Thing 1 and Thing 2. But holy shit were they warm and comfy. We had a good laugh over it, had some drinks, and lazed around the house. She surprised me when she unzipped hers and revealed that she hadn't worn anything beneath— just her round perky tits and puffy pink nipples, flat tummy, shaved pussy, full ass, and long sensual legs. Nothing else to cover her up but that fuzzy pajama suit. We fucked like rabbits, took a snack break, and fucked some more. We fell asleep on the floor in front of the Christmas tree— the PJs were that comfortable.

So how did we get to this point? How did my marriage turn into the motel scene from "The Getaway", with the hostage husband tied up in the next room while his wife eagerly fucks some rough and tumble fugitive while laughing at her husband's misery? It might be impossible to imagine, given everything that you know so far, but at a time there WAS love and laughter and good times— which was why it was so difficult for my mind to switch gears like a light switch and accept this sudden new reality.

What most of us can't accept, (myself included) is that good things in life can go away very easily, and sometimes through no fault of your own. If you have good things, there will always be someone trying to take them from you.

You're probably asking yourself, "Did this chick ever love you???"

The answer is shockingly simple. "Yes. Until the moment that she didn't." You can pretty much say that about all things in human nature. "The cheater was a good wife... until the moment that she wasn't." "The thief was an honest person... until the moment that he wasn't." "The drunk behind the wheel was a good driver... until the moment that he wasn't." "The serial killer was a good man... until the moment that he wasn't."

Those moments are hard to digest. Not just for me, but for everyone. It's the same reason juries take so long to deliberate, why friends plead the innocence of convicted friends, why wives return to abusive husbands again and again...

I was still assigning benefit of the doubt, because for me, there was plenty of it. But that was about to change...

***

We sat in the hot tub listening to the bubbling of the jets. The cold winter air was still and silent. The snow had stopped falling, but if we were to grow brazen enough to step off the deck, we'd sink up to our thighs.

I was lost in my thoughts. Brett was a serial cheater, who had a literal harem of women texting him. Not only that, but he was fucking his best friend's future bride. I could forgive all of that if he wasn't making himself comfortable around my wife. My mind was occupied, trying to come up with a way to reveal this information. To bring it to light and snuff out any possible flicker of interest my wife might have for the guy, and unmask him to be the true asshole that he was...

This was probably the reason I didn't take notice that Alex's bikini top was missing. She sat in the bubbling hot water up to her neck and didn't inch herself any higher.

It was also the reason I failed to consider why they were sitting side by side. Though Brett had swatted away her hand, she continued to curiously trace her fingers along his muscular thighs. They were still playing beneath the water where I couldn't see.

He lounged back, his hands tucked behind his head, smiling to himself. The cartoon cat that caught the canary. Though he was good looking, he was also insufferably cocky, even with his mannerisms and the way he smiled at me. He had looked at me many times that way since this nightmare started. Trying to antagonize me with his grin. We were in competition and he was always happy to remind me of that, without having to say a word out loud.

"I don't think it's a good idea to stay in for too long," Brett said finally.

I looked up. "I barely just got in."

"I know, but we've been drinking a ton these past few days. Especially you, lightweight," he smirked at me. "And hanging out in here for long is only going to dehydrate us." Beneath the water, his hand rested on my wife's leg like he owned her. And maybe she did. She wasn't pushing him away.

Alex was all too eager to agree with Brett's astuteness. I may have been oblivious to a lot, but I noticed how fast she jumped into his corner. For what reason, I had no fuckin' clue.

I grumbled but climbed out of the bubbling water. Alex took this as her opportunity and deftly retrieved her discarded bikini, throwing her towel around her body before I could turn and notice her nudity. She yelped and shivered against the cold night air. As we dried off Brett came out last.

He emerged from the water completely naked. My jaw hit the floor. Where the fuck had his bathing suit gone? That knot of dread was back in the pit of my stomach as I realized that he'd slipped them off at some point while he was in the hot tub beside my wife. Did she know about that? Had she been a part of it? Or was this just another way for him to jab me?

Alex giggled as he strode across the deck, oblivious to the cold. Only wanting to put on a show. If the cold was shrinking his manhood at all, he had plenty to spare before his size even came close to mine. His cock swung heavily from side to side.

"Where are your swim trunks, dude?" I asked, annoyed.

He shrugged indifferently. "I took them off."

"Why?"

He smirked. "Why, to fuck your wife, of course." He gave Alex a wink and headed into the house. His comment was said so naturally, that for a minute, I honestly couldn't tell if it was hyperbole or truth.

"He's kidding," Alex said dismissively.

"Seriously, Sean. Lighten up. We've seen each other naked way too many times for you to be a prude about it now." Brett strode up to the lit fire and warmed himself in front of it, only dabbing himself periodically with his towel.

I frowned at him. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? He was sauntering around like lord of the manor, and my wife was just eating it up.

Alex hurried to the bedroom to dry off and change. I glared at Brett for a second, before following. I was so hung up on that asshole, that I didn't notice Alex was completely naked. I dismissed it as her just undressing fast.

We changed into some warm PJs (not the ones that I had soiled when I came in my pants last night), and got ourselves ready for bed.

Alex dawned a very long, very fuzzy, warm looking sweater that covered her to mid-thigh. She didn't bother with pants, which raised a few eyebrows from me. "The hot tub was really hot. I need to cool off," she said, trying to alleviate my concerns. I said nothing. I knew why she was dressed like that. She wanted our "guest" to notice her legs and to wonder about what she was wearing beneath. Even I was curious if she'd even bothered with underwear.

She slid on some warm fuzzy socks— a substitute for slippers.

We found Brett in front of the fire, still totally naked. He was enjoying the heat on his skin. When we joined him in the living room, he retrieved his shorts and slid them on. It was like he'd waited for us intentionally before he dressed.

I looked between him and my wife. Everything they were doing and wearing was intentional, just to make the other stand up and take notice. It was all a dance, like a mating ritual. I needed to put a stop to this and soon.

"I would just like to address the elephant in the room," Brett said, pulling his shorts on over his lengthy member.

This made Alex sputter with laughter. She clutched her stomach and doubled over. "You mean the elephant trunk?"

Brett grinned at her over his shoulder. "That's not where I was going with this, but it's nice to see where your mind is at." He sat down on the couch. "Actually I was going to bring up the sleeping arrangements."

I didn't like where this was going.

"I would at least like a shot at being able to sleep in a real bed," he explained.

I folded my arms. "Does that mean you're going to refund me for my vacation that you're ruining?" I let my voice take on a cocky edge, trying to mirror the way he delivers insults— with a smug sense of humor and a sarcastic wit.

Alex smirked. Her face was torn if she wanted to tell me to shush, or if she wanted to laugh at my comment.

Brett didn't break a stride. "Now I know that's not true. If anything, I've made it way more interesting for the two of you. You ought to be paying me." He winked at Alex as he said this.

"We're both good at sex, it was an even trade," Alex shot back.

Brett grinned but steered us back on track. "It would only be for one night. You guys sleep out here in the living room, and I'll get the bed."

I couldn't resist my own grin. "Or... hear me out... you could go home, and sleep in your own bed."

Alex laughed even louder. It was nice to know that I could still make my wife laugh with a good snarky response. It put my mind at ease that she was still in my corner.

Brett gave my wife a glance, then looked back at me, not at all put off by the comment or the laughter. "Now that sounds like a bet," he said, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

"What?" I asked.

"A contest. If I win, I get to sleep in the bed for tonight."

I looked uneasy. "That's it? Just the bed for one night?" I didn't believe him that it would be that simple. I saw the way his eyes went to my wife, sitting on the couch with her smooth strong thighs— her revealing outfit tantalizing. Her long shirt barely covering her crotch.

He grinned like a shark. "I can push for more if you want..." he threatened.

"No no, go on," I waved my hands, humoring his game idea. Not realizing that I was playing into his hand.

"And if you win, I'll leave tonight and sleep in my own bed."

While I half expected Alex to protest this immediately— Brett braving almost three feet of snow was a lot to ask for— I also knew that Alex had a competitive streak. When we'd first met, she was actively involved in a recreational sports league. Each season would be a new sport: dodgeball, softball, volleyball. Alex was a natural at all of them, usually better than most of the men on her team. Able to out-perform, out drink, and out curse them. That side of her never backed down from a competition or a game. She was pretty much up for anything.

"You sound pretty confident that you'll win," I remarked. He was asking for very little and I was asking for a lot. I was almost afraid to ask. "What's the competition?"

He looked from me over to Alex. They locked eyes for a second, then he looked back to me. "I have a fun idea."

I paled. "Look, if it involves something that you know I'm going to lose at, then forget it."

He chuckled. "Relax quick draw. I'm not going to ask you to do anything physical. I'm not that cruel. So no pushups, situps, or weight lifting. In fact, you won't have to do anything more than sit there. The less you do, the more likely you'll win."

Now it was Alex's turn to chuckle. "That sounds right up your alley." She grinned at me. I blushed.

"Would you stop calling me quick draw," I insisted.

Brett paused, still grinning broader than ever. "Then prove it."

"Huh?"

"I've been thinking about what happened in the shower. How you finished early, and ducked out, then got pissed when me and your wife wanted to keep going..."

I was flushed red now. "How is that—"

"And clearly by how mad you're getting, you've been thinking about it too. So how about you redeem yourself?" He smirked.

I scowled, folding my arms. My leg began to twitch involuntarily. I didn't realize my restless leg syndrome was kicking in. This cocky asshole had once again figured out how to jab me hard enough to earn a rise out of me. "How?" I asked finally, wanting him to quit dancing around this and get to the point already.

He smiled, folded his arms behind his head and lounged back on the couch. "Your wife gives you a lap dance."

Now I was taken aback. "What?" I asked.

"Your wife gives you a lap dance. The hottest lap dance that she can possibly dream up. If you can last ten minutes without creaming your jeans, snow or no snow, I will pack up my bags, brave the elements and bid this place adios. But if you can't hold yourself back, and blow your load, I get to sleep in the bed just for tonight."

I must say, with a guy like Brett, I was expecting his contest to be much more... humiliating. I was expecting something that I would utterly hate. The thought of my wife gyrating on me as sexy as she could... well... it wasn't the worst idea that I'd ever heard. ...Assuming Alex would go along with it, which was Brett's battle to fight. Not mine.

"Just me, right?" I asked, really wanted to hit home with this. "I just want to make sure that you don't slip in some amendment that involves her dancing up on you too."

Alex rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. "Oh my god. You really want to dot the I's and cross the T's, huh?"

I glanced at her, and couldn't stop my slight spreading smile. "I do," I gave her bare thigh a little pinch, not knowing that a short time ago, Brett's hand had been resting in this same spot in the hot tub.

"Of course you're into this. You're such a perv," she shook her head. But despite her forced sarcasm, there was a look in her face that was different than when I'd normally make a suggestion like this. It was an expression of excitement. She was intrigued.

"Alex will only dance up on you," Brett assured me. "She has to try to make you cum without sex, without giving you oral, and without using her hands. It gives her a chance to show off her... talents." He glanced at my wife, and their eyes seemed to lock. There was a weird exchange between them. Like she was asking him for permission, and he was granting it. It made me momentarily wonder just which of us she was more committed to. Then Brett glanced back at me. "I'll just sit here and watch, like the Beta that I am," he shrugged. "Just to keep things fair. Your wife struts her stuff. You sit there and watch your wife using her entire body to entertain you, taking things to a new exciting level. And if it's not enough to make you cum quick, I'll leave and let you two have all the time to yourselves. So it's really a win win for you, no matter how this goes down."

This guy should have been a salesman. He basically was a car thief, selling my own stolen car back to me. Or in this case... my wife. I looked over at her. Fuck, she was sexy, especially tonight. Her big baggy sweat shirt covered her tits, and her sleeves were longer than her arms, but her legs were bare and smooth. I could only imagine what she would be capable of if she was really invested in a strip tease. It was something that she never actually did for me, but I sometimes fantasized about— Alex cutting loose and displaying herself.

But alas, She was much too dominant of a personality to try to seduce me, and I was too much of an over eager sucker for her advances to need much coaxing. She didn't need to do a long elaborate strip show to get me to fuck her. This was new territory, and I was thrilled at the thought. Whether Brett was here or not, I could only really see her, and the tempting vile poses she'd strike for me. And Brett's last comment was the icing on the cake— he'd be the observer and nothing more.

Of course, there was always one hiccup in this idea. Alex. She would never do anything she didn't want to do. And if she wasn't down for this, it would be over before it got off the ground.

My wife's eyes were distant. She was softly chewing the tip of her finger, looking lost in thought. She readjusted her feet on the sofa, and I detected a hint of a tremble. Alex actually trembled? She was never the insecure type about her body. Why suddenly now? Could it be excitement that I was seeing?

"What do you think, baby?" I asked, my voice gentle, not wanting to portray myself as some sex-hungry douche.

"How about it, Alex?" Brett joined in. "Care to put on a little show for your husband... and me of course?" He just had to throw that last part in. Maybe he was more like Alex than I thought— unable to leave things unsaid.

"If you're okay with it?" She looked at me, but halfway through her question, her eyes were drawn more toward Brett. There was a magnetic pull about the way she couldn't resist him. Whose permission was she asking?

"I'm fine with it if you are," I replied.

Brett only nodded, locking eyes with her. She seemed to wait only for Brett's answer, and once she got it, his decision was the one that urged her into action.

My wife grasped me by the arms and directed me over to the easy chair. Brett poured himself a drink and made himself at home on the couch. He set up a stop watch and even put on a little music.

I must admit, I was nervous. There was a set determination to my wife's expression. It kinda turned me on. I could feel my cock tensing in my shorts. Her face was intense. She was going to put her all into this, and it sort of scared me. I didn't recognize her, and I didn't know what she would be capable of. It also made me wonder... she could easily do a bad job— forcing Brett to leave. But somehow I didn't think she would throw the dance on purpose. This was up to me how this would end...

She started almost immediately. No hesitation, no opening joke, nothing to ease the tension. She was ready to jump right in... something else that made me not recognize her.

Standing in front of me, Alex already looked very hot in what she was wearing. But now she spread her legs like she was bracing on a ship in choppy seas. She started to sashay her hips from side to side. Her hands started at thighs, sliding them smoothly higher, catching the bottom of her sweater and pulling it up and up... Her eyes never left mine, although there was a lusty haze to them, like she was miles away in her mind.

She gave me a few quick teasing peeks of flesh, but stopped just shy of her panties, then suddenly bent forward. She hovered her face inches from mine. Her eyes half shut and she ran her tongue across her upper lip hungrily. Her hips continued to sway and move, and I was vaguely aware that across the room, Brett had a commanding view of her ass. His eyes were on her body as well, and a detached part of my brain wondered if her movements weren't orchestrated to entice him. After all... as I wasn't yet aware, he still hadn't climaxed after fucking her in the hot tub.

She rested her hands on the arms of my chair and glared at me, then began to slide herself down my body, until she was kneeling between my legs. She threw her head back, flicking her hair back behind her. The hair flip always did it for me. My cock was nearly springing to attention now, even as she squatted on the floor. Her sweater rising up to show off the firm globes of her round bottom.

Her eyes were hard, focused with concentration— staring daggers into me.

She nuzzled my erection with the side of her face. She snapped her teeth at the tent forming in my pants. Everything about her was aggressive. A complete sex panther right now. My cock jumped, and I felt the spreading warmth of the smallest drop of precum.