This is part two of a cuckold story - if you don't like them then please don't read it.
The office light shone yellow and grubby through the smoke blackened and dusty office window. It was so dirty I couldn't really see anything through it although I'd have liked to say that I saw my wife and her lover's silhouettes. My cock twitched at the thought of him taking her across that filthy old desk in that sleazy little room again, so I unzipped and let my mind drift back to the events that led to the most erotic event in my life so far.
The internet chats and camming had progressed to the point where I'd be visible in the background wanking while my wife opened her legs for dirty old men, I even chatted with a few while we waited for Sasha to come home. We soon moved onto fucking for them on camera and that's when we met him.
Reg was a seriously fat, ugly old man, but it was obvious Sasha had a thing for him from the start. She'd sit chatting with him for ages before and after anything sexual, swapped phone numbers and would close chats with other guys the instant he came online so she could chat with him.
He barely acknowledged me other than to tell me to fuck my wife harder or to get out of the way so he could see her better. He had a very thick cock and an enormous pair of hairy balls, to the point I thought he may have a problem, but the copious amounts of spunk he let fly in every session seemed to indicate he was just very generously endowed in the scrotal department.
Sasha would always tell him about this fantasy she had where he would grope her in public places, feeling his pudgy, sweaty hands under her skirt. He positively encouraged it, telling her to dress up in the clothes she imagined wearing for him and that he'd fulfil her fantasy anytime she cared to live it out.
All good dirty fun, until one day I overheard her arranging to meet him to carry out her favourite sordid little fantasy. I didn't say anything at the time, I just left them to enjoy their session together but later on that evening my wife could sense that I was troubled.
"What's wrong?"
It took a while but I finally blurted it out, "I don't think you should meet him."
"Who Reg? You heard then?"
She was quiet for a minute but then broke the silence gently, "It's only for a feel you know, like in my fantasy."
"I just don't think it's a good idea," I replied, trying to block out the images of his pudgy old hand up the back of my wife's skirt groping her arse. But by now my cock was like an iron bar at the thought.
"Why not?" she asked.
"Because it's someone else, watching is one thing but..."
"But what?" she whispered in my ear as she rubbed my cock through my bulging pants. "Don't you want to watch him put his dirty old hands up my skirt and feel my bum? It's just a feel."
I gasped as she squeezed my cock and I came in my pants, the wet patch spreading across my crotch.
I wanted it almost as badly as she did and she knew it.
Next day, Friday, was almost unbearable, I awoke feeling ridiculously horny. Sasha didn't say anything before she left for work, just giving me a sly smile before she walked out the door.
I thought about what we were planning to do that evening and my stomach churned, I still had my doubts but was so so turned on by the thought of it, and the more I thought about it the more turned on I got.
Trying to ration my wanking activities that day was futile. I'd had three by lunchtime, another two in the afternoon and then decided to go out for a while to take my mind off it. I only ended up in Anne Summers buying my wife a sexy lingerie set for that evening. All I could see when I looked at it was Reg's fat hands feeling her arse, I'm sure the assistant saw the lump in my pants, she certainly gave me a funny smile when I payed for it.
Sasha surprised me by being home before me.
"I knocked off early," she smiled. "What have you got there?"
I handed her the bag, she opened it, looked inside, then looked at me and smiled.
"I bet you can't wait to see his hands all over me in these," she breathed and then left the room, the bag held tightly in her hand.
I cooked dinner while she got ready, although I knew I was never going to eat it. Neither did she, instead opening a bottle of wine and taking it upstairs to guzzle it while she pampered herself.
After an hour or so she called me up, my heart was pounding in my chest as I climbed the stairs to our bedroom. Then I saw her and I almost came in my pants again.
