Chapter 8
Lacey's 1st
Ten years ago.
We are sitting on a couch in a plain room. Little to no artwork or photos on the white walls, small television sitting on a slightly less small table on the other side of the room. It looks like the living room to what some might call a bachelor pad, or possibly the first home of a young newlywed couple. There are two or maybe three other people here with us, and we all have red solo cups in our hands or nearby. This is a small get together of old friends who haven't seen each other in awhile and are now awkwardly trying to catch up. Not my friends, though. These are people who Lacey hasn't seen since high school, and who I have not met until tonight.
Directly across from us, next to the too-small T.V. and table, a hallway leads off from the main room. A door opens from just down this hallway and a woman steps out and walks across the living room in a straight line to stand directly in front of Lacey. The woman leans over and says something to my wife which causes her to stand up and walk away from me to enter the door that her friend had so recent just exited. She closes the door behind her.
She never looked at me or said a word before leaving, just simply walked casually to what I now know is a bedroom.
I never heard the woman speak and yet I know what she said.
We are at the residence of an and long time, yet long absent, friend of Lacey's. A male friend. Everyone here has just recently learned that this old friend of theirs is suffering from a terminal illness and is unfortunately facing his last few years, or possible even months, with little time or energy to get all of his affairs in order. At the moment, he is feeling very tired and is resting in his bed .
The woman who had just talked to Lacey was visiting with him, catching up and reminiscing on old times when he had confided in her a long held secret; he had always had a crush on Lacey. Maybe "crush" is too romantic a way to put it. The truth is he had always lusted after her, had wanted to get with her sexually and now that he was reaching the end of his journey here on Earth he was thinking of a passion never fulfilled. As he pondered lost lust and fantasies unrealized, he told this woman that he wanted the opportunity to fuck Lacey at least once before he passed on. If he could do that, he said, he could die happy. Patting his hand and smiling, she left the room and walked straight up to Lacey to tell what she had just learned.
She had come to tell my wife that her old friend's dying wish was to have her, to fuck and ravish her. Right here. Right now.
And without hesitation of any sort, the woman I loved had gotten up and walked into her friends bedroom to grant that last wish.
As I sat in the living room with these people I didn't know, the sounds of bedsprings and Lacey's moaning soon insured that we all knew exactly what was taking place in that room. I stared at the plastic cup in my hand as the anger swelled within me.
I quickly became so angry that I came fully and completely awake, lying in the darkness next to my wife.
As I lay there watching her sleeping so peacefully and innocently, I knew that she had done none of the things I had just witnessed. Of course she hadn't, it had only been a dream after all.
And yet the anger was still there. Now, any one who dreams knows that any emotions that are felt during the dream state usually dissipate almost immediately upon waking. Usually, but not always. I was fuming. How dare she do what she had done in my dream?! I gently shoved her to wake her up and let her know how upset I was with her for hurting me like that.
Now, of course, I knew that it was not her fault; she couldn't possible take responsibility for things that had happened in MY dream. I really just needed her awake to hold me and assure me that she loved me and would never do anything like that in real life. I usually don't need that sort of reassurance but this time I did. My anger had been that strong. In fact I remained upset for several days and Lacey thought it hilarious to tease me about it repeatedly.
But what, exactly, had made me so angry? Was it the fact that she had willingly fucked another man while I sat in the other room? No. No, that wasn't it. Was it the fact that everyone at that house knew that my wife was fucking another man? No, that wasn't it either.
What had pissed me off was that she hadn't involved me in the decision to fuck someone else. She hadn't asked if it was okay with me. She hadn't turned to me a said something like "I know this will upset you, but he is one of my oldest and dearest friends and if this is what he needs to be happy and die in peace, then I'm going to give it to him." Hell, she hadn't even LOOKED at me! She had just went into that room without hesitation as if I didn't even exist! Whatever other fantasies I may have and no matter what anyone else may think, I have no interest and receive no arousal from being treated like a cuckold.
A cuckold, by definition, is a man who's wife has sex with other men. Okay, I'm cool with THAT, but when anyone uses the term in the current vernacular, they are referring to a man who's wife treats him in a demeaning manner. A man who's wife has little or no use for him sexually and thrills at humiliating him while fucking around. A man who's wife does not include him in her decisions and relations, at least not as an equal. Now THAT shit, I have no use for. I like the idea of my wife fucking other people, but I need her to do it almost as much for me as for herself, to treat me as her equal partner and share her adventures and thrills with me.
Of course I didn't tell Lacey all of this as at this time, so many years ago, these thoughts and interests had not yet fully formed in my mind but I DID let her now that it was only her indifference toward me that had angered me. Looking back, that should have been her first hint that I may enjoy letting her have sex with other men.
****
Now we are back in the present and Ben has invited us both to a 4th of July party at his friend Eric's house. Let me tell, there was a moment of near panic for Eric when he saw that I was there as he knows that Ben is fucking my wife but not that I actually encourage it. Ben assured him that I was "cool" however, and the evening proceeded as would be expected. We watched the fireworks, grilled burgers and hotdogs, downed a fair amount of alcohol, and played horseshoes.
As the night wore on Lacey indicated that she wanted to go home, but as there were apparently some invited guests who had not yet showed up and that meant that the party hadn't truly started, Ben encouraged her to stay. He assured us that Eric would let us crash at his place and we could all go home in the morning. Did he have some ulterior motive in mind? Probably.
The party died down, the missing guests never arrived, and now it was certainly too late to drive home. Lacey announced that she was tired and going to bed, asking if I was coming with her. I wasn't tired so I told her to go ahead and Ben and I were going to stay up talking for awhile.
Shortly after my wife disappeared into the house the conversation of course turned to sex. Specifically, sex Lacey. Ben told me how much he had needed what my wife was giving him as he and his wife were heading toward divorce. He told me how tight and hot Lacey's pussy was. He told me that Lacey had told him how thick my cock is - that had almost certainly been her response to what must have been his inevitable question about his own size. You know, the same question every guy asks of a woman who has been with other men - "Is his dick bigger than mine?" It turns out that Ben's dick is about 2 or three inches longer than mine but mine is roughly twice as thick. I started thinking that Lacey must feel like she has been getting the best of both worlds. She would go out with Ben and have him fuck deeper into her pussy than she had felt in a long, long time, deeper than I ever could and then coming home to have me fuck her and stretch her pussy more than Ben could ever hope to. I wondered how any woman couldn't be in heaven with that arrangement. I also thought once again how much I believed she would enjoy us both fucking her at the same time.
This of course was Ben's next topic of conversation - did I think my wife would be up for a threesome?
I responded to his query by giving him the details of me and Lacey's sex session while up North for my school reunion. I told him how she had become increasing more aroused as I forced to think about whether she like to have both of us at the same time and how she had had an orgasm as I asked if she would enjoy sucking Ben's cock while I ate her pussy.
Ben's grin got wider and wider as I related my story and when I was done he asked, "You wanna go wake her up?"
Now how do you think I would respond to that? Of course I agreed, and we quickly went inside to both crawl in bed with my wife. When we pulled back the covers we saw that Lacey had gone to bed still fully dressed. Ben stretched out full length next to my wife, rubbing his hand across her stomach and leaning in to whisper in her ear. "Wake up," he said. "We have a surprise for you."
While Ben was attempting to wake her up I took the low ground, lying on the lower half of the bed with my head even with her hips. I started massaging her thighs and slowly moved to her crotch, pressing the heel of my hand directly on the denim that was covering her vagina. The heat radiating from her pussy was intense and I gently pressed and rubbed against it, moving my hand in a more or less circular motion.
"Go 'way," Lacey slurred. "I'm 'sleep..."
