Home Comes The Hero

Harold and Edith had been walking out for nearly two years before he finally managed to persuade her to let him put his hand in her knickers. Even then it was only at the weekend and only for a few minutes. Edith had yet to feel his manhood except through his trousers. No, that's not strictly true, Harold had once tricked Edith by unbuttoning his fly and guiding her hand over his underpants. No sooner had she felt the material of his underwear than she pulled her hand away. Harold however was in rapture, he started cumming as soon as Edith had touched cotton. Edith was disgusted and called Harold a pervert. She refused to see him for a week.

Along came the war and Harold's call up. He didn't want to die a virgin but the only way into Edith's was via a wedding ring. Harold proposed Christmas Eve 1941, the day after Edith's eighteenth birthday and was rewarded with Edith actually moving her hand up and down his shaft, albeit over his trousers. Edith kept the motion up just long enough for him to cum, all of twenty-seven seconds.

In March 1942, Harold's Aunt Mary died and left him a four bedroom detached house. Edith and Harry now had somewhere to live and they married in late April, on his last weekend before deployment.

Edith was as good as her word, she said she would let Harold has his way once they wed and on their wedding night she lay naked on the bed waiting for Harold to finish his ablutions. Harold came into the room and coud not believe what he saw, Edith laying with her legs apart displaying her tight lipped bearded clam in all its glory to him. Harold climbed onto their bed and started kissing a very responsive Edith. She placed his hand on her breasts and kissed him passionately. Edith asked Harold what he was waiting for, telling him she was his, telling him to take her, to make her a complete woman, telling him to give her his baby. Harold forced his way past her hymen and probed as deep into her pussy as his four inch dick would go. She felt as though he was stretching her, in her virgin imaginings she had worried that she wouldn't be able to accept him inside her, he had felt so big under his trousers. Harry had no sooner delved into Edith's pussy than he felt the twitching of an imminent ejaculation and he emptied his seed into his bride.

They lay there, Harold ecstatic that he had finally broken his duck. Edith lay there wondering if that was what it was all about, pain, a few seconds of being stretched and, well and what? Harold recovered quickly and climbed back on Edith, thirty or so seconds later he rolled off again, his seed inside her. Harold told Edith how much he loved her and how good it felt to make love to her. Half hour later later Harold was ready again. Five times Harold entered Edith that night. Edith had man flesh in her pussy for a total of less than seven minutes all told.

A tearful goodbye the next morning saw Harold go off to war. Within a fortnight he was a prisoner of war. Every day of his incarceration he found a quiet thirty seconds when he was alone to have a wank day dreaming of the day he could repeat his stud performance of their wedding night. Just over three years later he was one of the first men to return home from the prisoner of war camps.

Wanting to surprise Edith he didn't tell her he was on his way. It was midnight when he arrived, he was hoping she was asleep in bed. He checked the hiding place in the midden for the spare key and sure enough there was one there.

He unlocked the back door and stepped into the kitchen and was surprised to see his wife stood there naked except for the dressing gown that was hanging open. Edith was in shock, she dropped the glass of water she had been drinking from. The breaking glass shook her out of her reverie and she covered herself up. Edith tried too talk, Harold shushed her. She told him they must talk. He told her later. Harold swept her up and carried her to their bedroom. Harold lay Edith on their bed. Edith tried to speak again and Harold put his finger to her lips. Harold was surprised that Edith was being more coy than on their wedding night, she was keeping her legs crossed. Harold grasped Edith's ankles and gently pulled them apart telling her he wanted to see the heaven that he had spent these years yearning for. Edith opened her legs slowly as Harold lowered himself on to her. As soon as the end of his cock touched her thigh he lost control and coated her leg. Harold pulled back and started to apologise, he stopped when he realised he could see Edith's pussy in the dim light, not the tight lipped bearded clam he remembered but the gaping whore hole of a slut, not only that, there was thick slimy cum leaking from it.

He was just about to scream at Edith when the shrill howl of a crying baby got his attention. He stormed down the hall to the room from which the sound emanated and there laying in the cot was a baby. He glared at Edith and asked just what he was looking at. She told him it's her baby. The dark skinned child smiled up at him. Harold was about to shout at her again when a man's voice shout asking Edith where she was followed by an explanation that he must have falling asleep.

Harold didn't know what to do, what to think and when the hulk of a naked black man came along the landing he just lost it an ran from the house. Harold walked for hours, his marriage, his dreams in tatters. He ended up picking a whore up, she took him back to her place and lay on a dirty mattress waiting for his to do the business. Harold couldn't get himself hard. The prostitute was patient but after ten minutes she couldn't help but laugh at him for trying to put his limp dick into her. He arrived back home at six in the morning not knowing what to do.

All signs of his wife's lover had gone from the house, except of course for the baby. Edith was dressed and waiting for him, her eyes red from crying. She tried to say sorry, she tried to explain. Harold had decided what to do, he had decided it was the fault of the war. Harold drew his finger through the air, tell Edith it was a line, that on one side was the past and on the other their future. Edith hugged him and suggested they go to bed. They went up hand in hand, undressed and climbed into bed. They kissed, they cuddled, the touched each other. Edith had learned a few things in the previous three years and tried all the tricks that she knew pleased men. She wanked his cock, she slid down and sucked on his cock, she talked dirty talk for him. Nothing made him hard. The both fell asleep crying.

Edith told Harold of how, because of the size of the house, she had had to have American soldiers billeted with her. She told of her she had succumbed to the charms of one of them one evening when she was feeling low. Harold asked if the guy last night was the father of the baby. She told him he wasn't. Harold asked how many men had she slept with. Edith told him it was more than ten.

The next few weeks were hell for both of them but they stayed together. The bride he had waited hadn't waited for him and what had happened left Harold with a permanent inability to maintain an erection, he and Edith never had full sex again.

Harold accepted the baby as a son and endured the whispers and gossip over the years.

Edith cuckolded Harold with his knowledge, sometimes with him watching, many times over the years.