Henry Pt 01

This is a true story about cuckolding. If that idea turns you off, why read it?

My wife, Angie, and I were living in a suburban area near a big city --manicured lawn, attached garage, nice shrubbery all around the house, barbeque in the back -- you get the point. We were happy, with good jobs and adequate money to enjoy ourselves.

We'd been married about ten years, and like most married folks, we'd kind of settled into a pleasant, but not particularly exciting, sex life. We made love about three times a week, and Saturday morning sessions sometimes went on a long time, with Angie having multiple orgasms as I licked her, fingered her, and fucked her in several positions. Although she almost never turned me down for sex, as time went by Angie pressed me to have sex with her less and less often, and I became the one who usually suggested it.

We went to lots of parties, in those days, and met all kinds of people. We usually split up at those parties and occasionally one of us would meet an attractive member of the opposite sex and maybe even do a little kissing and groping out of sight of the rest of the party. That was fun, and we would always tell each other about it after it happened. But that was as far as that kind of thing ever got, at least as far as I know. And because Angie and I were within sight of each other most of the time when we weren't working, I figured I'd know if she was going beyond the occasional party make-out.

Angie was tall (5'11") and slim (140 lbs.) with small firm breasts and a beautiful ageless face. I, on the other hand, was just normal-sized, about 5'10". Everything about me was size medium, from my shirts to my shoes, to, well, my cock -- about 7" when fully erect.

At one party we attended, I noticed Angie spending quite a bit of time with a tall, well-built guy. I strolled over to where the two of them were talking and introduced myself. "I'm Harry," the man said with a pleasant smile, shaking my hand. Then he turned back to Angie and continued with the story he had been telling, which was apparently about a year he had spent in France. Not having heard the beginning of the story, I lost interest and wandered off. I eventually got caught up in an interesting discussion about psychology, with a small group of people including a psych professor from the nearby college and a very sexy woman named Karen who had the habit of touching the arm of the person she was talking to, to emphasize her point. When that person was me, it seemed to me that the gesture suggested further intimacy -- a very pleasant sensation.

Eventually, her touches were frequent enough that my cock started to harden and I began thinking of ways I could get her off into a corner, or, better yet, into the darkened back yard, for some deep philosophical exploration of the topic we were discussing, hopefully involving exploration of each other's tongues as well. But the opportunity didn't seem to be presenting itself, and I left the group in search of another drink and a trip to the bathroom.

Upon my return she had disappeared. Everyone else from that group was still there, so I knew she hadn't gone off with anybody else. I checked the bar and the beer keg, then the bathrooms, but couldn't find her.

Maybe she has gone out into the back yard, I thought, and went out in search of her. I saw nobody in the area just outside the glass doors, so I stepped off onto the grass and wandered back toward the bushes at the back of the yard. I wasn't really looking that hard for Karen, just enjoying the cool evening with thousands of stars overhead.

As I approached the big magnolia bush near the back hedge, I heard moaning and heavy breathing. Curious, I slowed my pace and detoured around another bush so I could see the lovers without being seen.

It was Angie and Harry. They were standing in each other's arms and kissing passionately. I noticed that Harry's hands were on Angie's ass, and when their lips came apart for a moment she was panting hard. As I watched, she leant back slightly and pushed her crotch against his.

My immediate reaction was anger and jealousy, but then it occurred to me that this was exactly what I had hoped to do with Karen, so I could hardly be too upset! My second realization was that my cock was getting hard as I watched my wife make out with a stranger.

I stood and watched them as they went from kissing and hugging to obvious groping. Harry had his hand on Angie's breast, and Angie had her hand down between their bodies as they continued to kiss. I could see her elbow moving as she apparently rubbed his cock through his pants. By now I was completely hard and was also rubbing myself through my pants. But I soon became concerned that the action in front of me might go further than just making out fully clothed, so I decided to try to break it up in the least dramatic way I could think of. I quietly made my way back to the open doors of the house; then, turning toward the dark yard, I called out "Angie! Angie! Are you out here?"

There was no response, so I turned and walked back into the house. I went through the kitchen into the living room and engaged somebody in small talk, hoping that Angie would break off her kissing and return to the house but wondering what I would do if she didn't come back in, soon. But no worries, here she came, glowing a little perhaps but not out of breath.

"Ready to go home?" she asked.

"Yes, I've had about enough to drink and I'd be happy to leave," I replied.

"Then let's go," she agreed, and bidding good-bye to our hosts, that's what we did.

Angie was the designated driver, and as she was driving us home I put my hand on her thigh. She smiled and let her legs part slightly. I pulled her skirt up and swept my hand to the top of her thigh.

"Did you meet anybody interesting?" I asked.

"Yes, a bunch of people," she said. "But nobody particular."

Uh-oh, I thought. "How about that guy Harry you were talking to? You seemed pretty into him when I saw you."

"Yes, he was telling me about the year he spent in France, studying as a cook. But he's really not my type, I think. Actually," she glanced over to me with a lascivious grin, "you're my type. And as soon as we get home I'm going to fuck your brains out."

And so it turned out. As we entered the house from the garage and walked toward the bedroom, she preceded me toward the bedroom, taking off her blouse, then her skirt, then her bra and finally her underpants as she went. She dropped each item as she removed it, leaving articles of clothing strewn along our route. She preceded me down the hallway, stark naked and swinging her hips exaggeratedly. As soon as we got into the bedroom she turned and quickly undressed me. When she pulled my briefs down, my cock leapt out, completely hard and oozing pre-cum.

"Hmmm ... Been thinking about this, have we?"

Just as she hadn't mentioned her tryst with Harry, I didn't mention that my excitement was more due to watching her with him than my thoughts about upcoming sex with her.

As soon as she had me naked, she turned away from me and bent over onto the bed.

"Take me!" she urged. "I'm ready!"

I complied with a single thrust, sinking my full 7 inches into her soaking-wet cunt. She cried out in delight and I started to fuck her in earnest. She almost immediately started making the noises she makes when she's about to cum, and I could feel her fingernails occasionally hitting my cock as she frantically massaged her clit.

"Oh, God! Yes! Harder! Harder!" she urged. "Uh, NOW! Oh God, you feel so big!"

No bigger than usual, I thought, wondering if she was imagining herself with Harry. Well, I had to admit, I was thinking of her with Harry, too. As Angie let out one final scream, loud enough to wake the neighbors, my cock erupted into her cunt.

I gave her a few more stokes, then she fell forward onto her face and my cock slipped out of her.

"Oh, honey," she whispered, "you're so good to me." She turned, gave me a deep kiss, and went into the bathroom to clean up. I crawled into the bed and was soon asleep.

By the time I had to leave town for business a few weeks later, I had more or less forgotten the back-yard episode with Harry and Angie. I was traveling with an attractive woman from my office, and the trip went well. We closed the deal a day earlier than we had thought we would, and as we walked out of our client's offices my colleague grabbed my ass and gave it a squeeze. I didn't think much of it, but it was definitely a nice feeling.

"Well," I said, "we've finished up a day early. Do you want to hang out here, or should I book earlier flights home?"

"Let's go home," she replied. "I've got some stuff to do around the house; I think I'll take tomorrow off, since nobody expects me to be in the office, anyway."

So I booked a flight for that same evening and called home to give Angie the news.

You can imagine my surprise when a man answered the phone.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello, I'm calling for Angie. Who's this?"

"Harry," the voice replied. "I just stopped in to see you guys. She's in the bathroom - I'll get her."

He called her name and she came to the phone immediately. I told her the business trip was going well, then blurted, "What's Harry doing there?"

"Oh," she said, "I had given him our address at the Smith party, do you remember?"

"The party? Yes, I remember."

"Well, he was in the neighborhood and dropped by. He was expecting to find both of us here, but I told him you were out. We're having a cup of coffee together and then he's leaving."

"Oh, OK," I said. "Well, say hello to him for me, and don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"I won't," she assured me. "See you tomorrow night. Love you."

"Love you, too," I said, then ended the call.

So Harry was at our house when I was away. Was it purely by coincidence? It didn't seem likely. More likely, they were starting (or continuing?) an affair. It occurred to me that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander, and I was in another town with a hotel room already paid for and a woman who had just grabbed my ass; but now that I had changed the air tickets, how could I get her to stay over with me for a night of fun and games? Assuming she would be interested. Also, we worked for the same company, and intra-office affairs are generally a bad idea. Besides, I was still being faithful to my wife, and maybe my suspicions about Harry and Angie were wrong.

So my colleague and I stuck to plan and flew home. As soon as we landed and gathered our bags, we said our good-byes in the gathering darkness and separated to our individual cars.

In fifteen minutes I was turning into our street. In front of our house was, no surprise, a car I didn't recognize. Instead of pulling into our driveway, I drove around the block and parked on a different street. As usual with suburban neighborhoods, most of the residents had little contact with each other. Of course, Angie and I knew our immediate neighbors, both on our side of the street and the opposite side, but we knew no-one on the street behind us. Thus, I was pretty sure nobody would recognize our car and wonder why I had parked it there.

I strolled up to our yard as calm as could be, as if I had been out for a walk and was returning home. Instead of going up to the front door, I walked up to the gate to the back yard and went through it.

I was now protected from view from the neighbors. The back of the house was dark except for a shaft of light coming from our bedroom window. Quietly, I snuck up to the wall next to the through the gap in the drapes.

I needn't have been quiet. On the bed were Harry and my wife, in the missionary position with her legs around his waist, and she was screaming her head off as he plunged into her. I had a poor view, from the side and behind them, so all I could really see was his side and hairy back, and her legs, with her feet in the air, but she was clearly having a great time.

Knowing in advance that Harry was at our house had prepared me for the sight, and I felt almost no jealousy. Instead, I had a raging hard-on and was actually breathing hard, watching my dear wife being heartily fucked by a relative stranger. I pulled out my rock-hard cock and stroked it lightly, not wanting to cum as I continued to watch in fascination.

Angie was cumming over and over, but then she seemed to build to an even higher level. Her legs gripped Harry's back urgently, and her toes curled as her screams reached a crescendo. I felt a familiar tingling in my cock and spurted gobs of goo all over my hand, the wall of the house, and the ground.

Harry apparently came at the same time; in any case his thrusts slowed and he pulled his body partly away from hers. Realizing that if they turned toward the window one or the other might see me, I pushed my now-limp dick back into my pants and hurried away.

Of course, the airline had not fed me on the plane, so I was starved. I went back to the car the way I had come, and drove to a little restaurant nearby. As I ate dinner, I watched the customers and the wait-staff, and every time I saw an attractive woman I thought about fucking her, just to get back at Angie. By the time I paid the bill I was as horny as hell.

After dinner I drove back to our neighborhood and saw that the same car was parked in front of our house. I drove around the corner and parked as before. Returning to the bedroom window, I saw the room was dark, but now light streamed out of the glass doors leading from the kitchen to the back yard. I continued cautiously to the kitchen, and there I found Angie and Harry. This time, they were standing facing away from me, with Angie bent over at the counter as Harry plowed his cock into her from the rear. She was screaming again and was so eager to take his thrusts hard that she was thrusting back against him on every plunge. Eventually she pushed him backwards from the counter and toward the glass doors until he was hitting his bare ass on the doors with every backstroke.

Unlike the bedroom window, these doors were uncurtained, and if either of the two had glanced out through them, they would have seen me, exposed by the light from inside, with my hard cock in my hand. But even so I couldn't resist creeping up close outside the doors to within a few inches of Harry's back. It almost seemed to me that I was Harry, plowing into Angie, her cunt gripping my cock on every stroke. Suddenly, I came, my cum splattering against the door.

I backed away from the light and, once again, tucked my limp dick into my pants. I went to a small boat we kept in a nearby marina, to spend the night. I slept like a lamb.

I spent the next day on some boat repairs and a good nap. That evening, at about the time when my flight would have landed, I got in the car and drove home. This time there was no car in front of the house, and I turned into the driveway, punched the button to open the garage door, and drove in.

"Hi, honey, I'm home!"

"Hi, dear, how was your trip?"

"A tremendous success! We closed the deal!"

"Great! I've made your favorite dinner, chicken cacciatori!"

"Great; thanks! So, how's Harry?"

"Oh, OK I guess. He only stayed for a cup of coffee."

"Seriously? You gave him your contact information and instead of calling here he simply showed up? Just when I happened to be out of town? Angie, ..."

Angie's face crumbled. "Oh, I'm so ashamed. Harry called me and asked if he could come over, and I told him you were out of town but he could come over for a cup of coffee ..."

"Wait a minute. He called when I just happened to be out of town? Or did you call him?"

She started to cry. "I called him. I really enjoyed his company at that party, and thought we might spend some time together."

"So, he came over. What then?"

Now she was really crying. "We ... had sex."

Despite myself, I asked, "What was it like?"

"Well, you know ... like sex."

"Did you enjoy it?" I really wanted to ask, "More than with me?" but didn't have the courage to ask.

"Yes."

"What's he like?"

"Well, he's hung like a horse," she giggled.

"So you fucked, and then he left?"

"Well, no. He spent last night here."

"Are you planning to see him again?

"No. Definitely not. Please believe me, love; this was just a one-night stand."

"OK, fine. If he calls you, you'll let me know?"

"Of course, dear. I love only you."

"And I love you." We came together and hugged, Angie still crying.

Suddenly, she backed away from me. "You've got a hardon!"

"I admit your sex with Harry is a real turn-on for me. But I'm afraid of what it might do to our marriage."

This was my opportunity to come clean about seeing Angie and Harry together, but somehow, despite the fact that Angie had confessed to her infidelity, I kept it a secret.

"Please believe me," Angie said, "I love only you. And you're the best lover I've ever had."

Having seen her with Harry the night before, I wasn't so sure she felt that way, but I knew she was sincerely trying to make me feel better.

"So, let's get back to Harry. You've agreed to see him again, haven't you?"

"Yes," she answered reluctantly.

"Are you supposed to call him, or will he call you?"

"I'm supposed to call him."

"OK, here's the deal. If I try to stop you from fucking Harry, I take a big risk that you'll just go behind my back. After all, you're already done that once (at least, I thought but didn't say). So I'm not going to do that. But I have conditions. If you want to fuck Harry it's got to be out in the open. Invite Harry over with both of us here, and let's discuss the whole thing."

"Oh, darling, I don't know. Aren't you jealous, or afraid of this? I know I won't ever betray you, but I want to make sure you know that, too."

Wait a minute. Didn't she just fuck Harry for an entire night while lying to me about it? And didn't she just change her story about never seeing Harry again? But the idea of her fucking Harry turned me on and I thought, if I can control this, no problem.

"I'm not jealous of Harry as long as I get to set the limits of the relationship. No fucking behind my back. No secrets between you two that you don't share with me. And all within our marriage -- we're married and in love with each other, and nobody else, not even Harry, can come between us."

"Oh, darling, I love you for this. I agree with everything. Harry will never come between us, I promise."

So she called Harry and he came over to our house the next evening, after work. We sat in three chairs in the living room, and after the usual small talk we got down to business.

"Harry, I know you've been fucking Angie. I'm not jealous about that, but I want you to understand our situation. We're married, and in love with each other. I'm not jealous about your relationship with her, and in fact it turns me on to know she's fucking you. But our marriage is the most important thing. No matter what happens here, Angie and I both want to end up married to each other. If you're willing to accept that, fine; I'm sure we're all going to have a lot of fun with this. But if you ever try to do anything that puts a wedge between Angie and me, or if you ever insist on having something from Angie that I don't agree with, or keeping secrets from me, you're gone. Understood?"

"You mean, it's OK for me to fuck Angie?"

"Exactly. But you have to accept those terms. Are you willing to do that?"

"Hell, yes! Is this just between Angie and me, or do you want to be involved in the sex?"

I glanced down at Harry's crotch. To my amazement, the end of his hardening dick was just visible as it pushed down the leg of his shorts. How big was this guy, anyway?

"That's up to me. If I want to join in, I can. If I choose not to, then you and Angie can do what you want together. But the key is that it's up to me. If I say no sex without me present, then that's it."