"No one does," he said. "The minister thinks we are a social group, which we are in a way. How do you feel now? Still scared?"
"I'm down to nervous. I felt like I was the only one before. At least I know now I'm not alone. Was this the whole group?"
"Just a small fraction. You weren't the only newcomer today. Most of them won't be back. They're embarrassed or feel humiliated. It would help everyone if they returned, but they won't. I'm glad you could join us today." He held out his hand to me.
"When is the next meeting?" I asked as I accepted his hand.
"I hoped you would ask. Watch your email carefully, especially your spam folder. We won't be so blatant in the future."
"How did you find out about me?"
"I can't answer that. It's not important. What matters is that you are among friends."
I continued going to the meetings. The notices came as junk email. The locations were different each time. For the first three months, I only received invitations to the lunchtime gatherings, which were held a couple times a month. Then I received a notice for an evening meeting.
Before it had been Ellen who had made up excuses for going out at night. She had been very convincing with PTA meetings, sorority meetings, etc. I don't know why I bought the PTA meetings; we didn't have kids. After an hour of brain-wracking agony, I finally came up with one -- an old friend passing through town.
The first part of the meeting was much the same as the day ones with deli platters, chips, and sodas. The members began discussing their experiences. Some knew their wives' lovers. They were best friends, neighbors, even a couple of brothers. Others didn't know. A few were only suspicious. I only listened for the next two months before I worked up the courage to sit on the stool in front of the group. The funny thing, if there is anything funny about being a cuckold, was that each speaker's story was just a little worse than the last one's. It was like playing king-of-the-hill, only with unfaithful wives instead of pushing other's around. I would give them something to top.
"I'm Pat," I began, "and I'm a cuckold."
"Hi Pat."
My wife and I have a great sex life. We're very adventurous in bed. I doubt there is a place we haven't gotten it on, except the White House. (We haven't been there yet.) We did it once in the microfilm room at the National Archives. There were so many people around that we only had time to stick my dick in her. Neither of us had a climax, but we can say we did it there. There have been other places you might expect, like a booth in a dirty bookstore. Once a guy stuck his erection through a hole in the partition between his booth and ours. She sucked him off while she sat on my lap with my boner in her snatch. That's the only time a third person was involved with us.
We have a bunch of sex toys too. My favorite is fuzzy handcuffs. Our bed has vertical brass pillars on the headframe. We take turns cuffing each other's arms to the pillars. The cuffed person is totally at the mercy of the other. He or she can only lie on the bed and accept whatever the free person dishes out. One night she sucked me off four times in two hours. I was exhausted when she was done with me, but, man, it was great. Another time I gave her 56 orgasms in one hour using only my tongue. The one who is trussed up has the right to say 'stop', but neither of us has ever exercised it. After eight years of marriage, you know what your partner will and will not tolerate.
One Saturday evening about a year ago, she announced she wanted to try something new. Knowing how her mind works, I knew I was in for a fun night. One night she jacked me off in a restaurant. We often go out without underwear. Her skirts are short, and her blouses border on see-through.
Ellen has a great body. Her breasts are full and firm with prominent half-inch nipples. She seldom wears a bra. When we go to the health club to work out, every guy there ogles her. She loves the attention. Her pussy lips are clearly outlined through her leotard. She wears her dark hair on the short side. She says it's easier to take care of that way. Her eyes are dark brown, almost black. She has a tiny waist. Her hips are perfect for making babies. She shaves her pussy daily.
This particular night she was dressed to kill when I got home from my golf game. She wore a red skirt that showed most of her legs. The hemline wasn't more than an inch below the globes of her arse. Her shirt, also red, was pulled down tightly into the waist of her skirt so it hugged her breasts clearly outlining her nipples. She had matching, open-toed, high heeled shoes. Her red clutch purse was on the nightstand.
I went straight to the shower. When I came out, she was stretched out on the bed. As usual, she wasn't wearing her panties. The sight of her hairless pussy made my dick start to grow. "What are we up to tonight?" I asked eagerly. She held up a set of regulation police handcuffs. I smiled at the sight of them. "It looks like we are in for some serious fun."
"I sure am," she said in her most sultry voice. "Open the closet door." I rushed to comply with her command expecting to find something new for me to wear. Instead there was a wood chair with vertical supports on the back and rungs between the legs. "Have a seat," she said sweetly. "Take your towel off first." Again I followed orders. She stepped into the closet behind me. After putting a cuff on my left wrist, she threaded the other one around the center upright and secured my right wrist. "Are you comfortable?" she asked. "This isn't too tight on your shoulders?"
"I'm fine," I said. I eagerly awaited finding out what was next. I was, of course, totally naked.
Our closet door has adjustable louvers to allow air circulation. She opened them halfway and closed the door. "Can you see the bed?" I said I could. She laid down on it. "Can you see me?" I said 'yes' again. She came back to the closet carrying her clutch purse. "Put your feet on the rungs." I placed my heels on the rungs. I'm not into very kinky sex, but I do trust my wife -- at least I used to trust her -- so I didn't argue when she used two more sets of cuffs to secure my legs to the chair's rear legs. This forced my legs apart and kept me sitting upright. When I was completely attached to the chair, she began stroking my cock. Within seconds it was rock hard. My breathing was deep and rasping. I didn't understand her plan, but whatever it was seemed pretty good up to that point. I was on the edge of cumming. She picked up her purse and stood beside me. "Now close you eyes and open her mouth." I expected to feel one of her nipples between my lips. What I felt was something round and hard being shoved into my mouth. Straps on my cheeks were pulled back behind my head. My eyes flew open. I heard the click of a couple snaps. "This will keep you quiet. It's a rubber ball riveted to a leather strap." My dick was soft. She traced the edge of my glans with her fingertips. She smiled as my shaft returned to its previous turgid state. "Hold that thought," she said as she closed the closet door. "I'll be back as soon as I can." A minute later I heard the front door close.
Time dragged by while I awaited her return. My hardon wilted right after she left. I had no idea what she had in mind. We had done many goofy things sexually, but this time I was totally perplexed. I was helpless, but I was confident she would return soon. After fifteen minutes, my arms began to ache from being immobile. A minute seems like five, then ten. The bedside clock seemed to stop.
Forty-five minutes later I heard the front door open. I was relieved to hear Ellen's voice. Surely she would be releasing me immediately. Then I heard a man's voice. What the hell was going on? A minute later she came into view through the louvers. Some guy I'd never seen before was behind her. His hand was under her skirt caressing her bare bottom. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a long open-mouth kiss. "Let's take care of business first," she said in her most sultry voice.