This is a continuing fictional story about a man who has allowed his fiancée to have sex with another man. You can read about that in part 1. In part 3 she begged her lover to fuck her ass in front of her fiancé, and he complied. The fiancé, torn between his anger and his arousal, has just asked her if her fun with the other man is now over. If you don't like stories where this happens, don't bother reading it. I do appreciate feedback, so do feel free to contact me especially with any requests or suggestions for future parts.
*
She watched me, indicating no obvious or apparent answer.
"You and him," I repeated. "Is that your fun over?"
She beckoned me to sit next to her. She kissed me hard when I did. Her tongue ever so convincing of her love, despite everything else. "Let me ask you a question, baby? Does it still arouse you to watch me with him? Now, be completely honest."
"Completely honest... Yes, it does."
She stroked my balls. "Then my fun isn't over, baby." She continued to play with me for several minutes, coaxing my cock back to an erection.
"Suck it," I said, soft and encouraging rather than as an order or instruction.
She stood up. "Baby, I'm too tired. You can sit down here and masturbate, if you like. Or you can come to bed with me now. I'll dress sexy if you do."
I followed her to bed, lying under the duvet as she selected something to wear. I naively expected more of an effort, perhaps one of her outfits, but when she donned the skimpiest of her g-strings I could not complain.
She turned on her side, ass facing me. "You can stroke it and maul it, baby, if you like. You can think about what happened to it earlier."
I was erect.
"But no fucking," she insisted. "I'm tired."
I had another troublesome night of arousal and insomnia.
* * * * *
It was late morning the following day when she entered the living room. I basked in her beauty. Her hair was up in a clip, although she pulled off the look with magnificence. Her make-up was flawless. She wore a long, red coat, the buttons fastened at the front. There was another pair of sexy boots underneath. How I adored her in a pair of boots. The way her body swayed when she walked, her ass jutting out.
"He's on his way," she declared.
"What?" I demanded.
She sat down and crossed her legs, revealing the bare flesh of her perfect legs. "We've been texting this morning. I didn't think it was fair of me to expect you to get a taxi back down to pick up the car, so he's coming up here."
"And then what?" My eyes were drawn to those fine legs. "Is he giving me a lift to his?"
She giggled. "Baby, you are silly. He's picking me up. I'll drive the car home."
"Should I not come with you?"
She smiled at me. "That's not the plan."
I had to confess to her. "This is eating me up not getting to fuck you anymore, darling. I need you. There's nothing I want more than to bend you over that table and fuck your ass hard like he did last night."
"You're sweet, baby." She glanced out the window, then back. "But that was just a one-off. I got caught up in the moment. You have to respect my decision not to engage in anal sex anymore."
I had one card left to play. "Then pussy sex. You can't deny me that any longer."
She shot a fierce look. That ever rebellious nature I had long ago fallen for. That no man would tell her what she could or could not do. It calmed within seconds, then came the playful, naughty look I was becoming ever more confused by. "If you're not careful I might just refuse to have sex with you again until after we are married."
"That's insane!" I shouted.
She walked to the window and parted the blinds. "Its traditional."
"But-"
She turned to me. "There he is." She unbuttoned her red coat and hauled it apart, revealing what she was wearing underneath. "What do you think?"
I was speechless, shocked and amazed.
"I'd better hurry." She buttoned up the coat and kissed me a quick goodbye on the lips. "I won't be long."
The front door closed behind her. I watched her walk to his car in those boots, her rear swaying under the coat with every step. She opened the car door and leaned one foot into the passenger side, leaving the other dangling out for a few seconds. It meant her legs were parted for him. Suddenly the door shut. I stared, hoping they wouldn't kiss in our driveway. They didn't. I was spared a public humiliation and for that I was momentarily thankful.
The car drove off and I was left with an imprint of what she had flashed me under that red coat, my cock straining again in my jeans. I paced myself back and forth in the living room, my eyes never far from the clock. I allotted them 10-15 minutes, depending on traffic, to get to his. The same for her to return. When thirty minutes had come and gone, every passing minute was a minute I could attribute only to alone time between them.
The first hour passed and my thoughts focused on her open coat. She had been wearing a black lace babydoll outfit. I had never seen it on her before. It was a tight fit, covering her nipples, revealing her navel and barely hiding her pussy. The groin region was shaped like a hand, mauling her most intimate region. She had looked incredible in it.
My arousal and jealousy excelled. It was impossible to any longer contemplate that nothing would be happening between them. I pictured his fingers pulling the lace to the side and his tongue exploring her clit. Her words to him in my apparent absence the night before that she "had no wish to hurt me" would be sacrificial lambs to their desires.
Another thirty minutes passed. I imagined him pounding her cunt while she begged for it like a slut. My balls were aching. I needed release. I needed it inside her. Over her. Everywhere. My cum was meant for my fiancée's body, not another tissue. I sat down and reluctantly opened my jeans. There was only one manner in which I could enjoy the situation.
My hand was a rare pleasure, an escape from the sexual torment of her denial. I wanked normally for fifteen minutes, then came the dangerous thoughts of him having her ass. There was no question it was on the cards, despite her claims that it was a one-off. I knew what she was like, her personality addictive for anything she enjoyed. I had watched her, heard her and felt her the night before. She was an anal slut whore all over again.
* * * * *
The car in the drive caught me off-guard. I rushed to pull up my jeans before she entered. The clock indicated she had been away for almost 2 hours. The dirty fucker!
She entered the living room, her hair clearly dishevelled. She looked in the mirror and gave a slight chuckle. She knew it too. Her eyes found mine. "Yes, baby?" she asked, mock innocence a commodity.
"Did anything happen down there?" I asked.
She smiled. "Of course, baby."
I couldn't help myself. I had to take her. I jumped from my seat and twirled her in my arms. I went straight for the buttons on her coat. To my surprise, she was non-resistant. She even smiled. I felt her flesh underneath as I reached the third and final fourth button. I pulled open her coat, her back to the window.
"Do you like what you see?" she asked.
