Oscar's Cucold Fantasy

As previous chapters it is a cuckold story with humiliation for husband. If you don't like these stories, do not read it...

It had been almost two weeks since my wife, Irene, and I had last had sex and several weeks since Irene had decided that we should be more open about her relationship with Pierre. Since then, we had made a conscious effort to ensure that Pierre came around to collect Irene at a time when our two daughters would see me greet him in a friendly manner, chat with him like a friend and then kiss Irene goodbye before she went out with him. Of course, they didn't know that, in all likelihood, within half an hour of that kiss, their mother was on her back, naked and panting, as she guided Pierre's thick cock in to her cunt. No, all they knew was that their mother was going out with a friend and that their father was happy about it and that he would be putting them to bed. To reinforce the normality of Pierre and my wife's relationship, Pierre had even joined us for the occasional evening meal. Although there was nothing sexual about these encounters, I couldn't help but be aroused by seeing him acting normally with us. My gaze would frequently return to the unavoidable fullness of his trousers. I could not keep from thinking about the two of them naked and wild with passion, their bodies joined by what that now lay there dormant. However, this was pure imagination; I had seen them together naked, I had heard them fucking, I had seen how stretched Irene was after they had had sex, I had even caught a glimpse of Pierre's semi-erect cock but I hadn't actually seen them together. That was something that Irene had decided to keep between them.

Irene returned home from work on Friday evening looking tired but sexy in her office clothes. As I held her close and kissed her I could detect the, now familiar, taste of another man's cock. My hands roamed over her ass and there was no hint of panties below her tight skirt. A few months ago, Irene would never have dreamt of leaving the house knickers less, let alone to go to work, but it was now a regular occurrence. She has told me how she likes to flash Pierre during the day, spreading her legs to give him a view up to the lips of her pussy, his pussy and the labia of which she kept hairless at his request.

Pulling away from me, she said with an excited smile, "I need you to be around tomorrow morning to help with a delivery."

"Okay, I wasn't planning on going anywhere." I replied. "What have you bought?"

"You will see tomorrow but I can assure you that you will like it."

With that she left the room to say hello to the kids and change from her work clothes.

The following morning the four of us were going about our usual weekend routine of clearing up the breakfast things and entertaining the children when there was a knock on the door. Irene answered it and let in two delivery men carrying a large plastic wrapped object.

"What is it? What is it?" the girls asked excitedly.

I looked at Irene with an equal sense of intrigue.

"It's a sofa." she answered and then, in a whisper to me, "It's where daddy is going to sleep when Pierre stays over."

The delivery men carried the sofa into our bedroom and placed it against the wall beside our marital bed. I am sure I caught both the men smirked at me before leaving. Irene told me to remove the wrapping and, as the girls had fun climbing over it, she demonstrated how the arms folded down to convert it into a narrow single bed. The girls soon grew bored of the new furniture and it wasn't spoken about again until later that evening when Irene and I were again alone in our room.

As I got ready for bed, my mind was racing and my little cock hard just from looking at the sofa and thinking about the words Irene had whispered to me earlier. Irene had noticed where my attention lay.

"Why don't you try it out?" she said, pointing to the sofa. Irene stripped naked as I converted it in to a bed.

"Lie down. I want you to tell me what you can see from there."

I did as I was told and, when I was lying down, Irene started to move around the bed. She walked to the side of the bed and bent over resting her arms on it. She started jerking her hips back and forth as if she were being fuck from behind, her breasts swinging freely with each thrust.

"How does this look? Will you get a good view of Pierre fucking me from behind?"

I grunted a reply, struck dumb by the sight in from of me.

"How about like this?" she said, lying face down on the bed with her feet towards me. She places a couple of pillows under her hips, which raised her bum in the air. Her legs parted to reveal her moist pussy. "Sometimes, Pierre fucks me like this. His cock feels so good in this position." As Irene said this she slipped a hand under her body and slowly ran a finger back and forth along the length of her pussy.

My cock was now as hard as it gets. I was so close to cumming that the slightest touch would set me off. Irene rolled on to her back and moved the edge of the bed so that her feet were wide apart on the floor. Both pairs of her labia were now parted as if preparing to invite in an object of significant girth. She was alternating between rubbing her clit and dipping a finger inside.

"Will you get a good view of Pierre's cum running from me in this position?" she asked.

"Yes!" I gasped. This was too much, my cock twitched of its own accord and I came.

Irene sat up quickly and looked at me sternly.

"Have you just cum over the new sofa?" she barked.

"Yes" I whimpered, embarrassed at how little it had taken for me to lose my load.

"Well, I think you had better spend the night on there, don't you?"

With that she got in to bed and turned off the lights.

"I'm sorry for being angry with you" she said after a while. In the darkness, her voice had softened to a more loving tone. "It's my fault; I forgot that you don't have the same self-control that Pierre has. Good night."

***

"Good morning, Sexy. I'm feeling very horny." Irene's voice drifted to me through my half-sleeping state.

"Good morning" I mumbled, taking a moment to orientate myself as I remembered that I was on the new sofa-bed.

"Yes, I'm naked and touching myself." she continued in a seductive tone.

I looked up. The morning sun revealed that Irene was indeed naked. She was propped up on pillows, one leg stretched out straight, the other bent at the knee, partially draped with the sheet. Irene was using her fingers to caress her right breast, tracing its shape and occasionally using the palm of her hand to feel its weight. Irene seemed to be purposefully avoiding touching her nipple, which was already tight with arousal.

"No, not since the one you gave me after work on Friday."

It was only then that I realized that Irene wasn't talking to me but was on the phone.

"No, we haven't but I probably wouldn't have cum even if we had...Yes, it arrived yesterday...Ha-ha, yes, he's on it now...Why don't you come over this evening, and we can put it to use?...What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that my cunt is aching for you to fill it; that I want to fall asleep with your thick cock still inside me, that I want to wake up with you licking me in the way that only you can?...No, he won't...Excellent, come around in time for dinner...No, we'll have to be quiet because of the children...That's it, make love to me rather than fuck me...I'm sure you'll manage...Yes, I'm still touching myself...Okay, it'll be hard but I'll save that for you."

Irene, hung up the phone, looked straight at me and then, without saying a word, she walked to the bathroom. With two strokes I was cumming.

When she returned, Irene had showered. "Oscar, please could you change the bed sheets when you get up. Pierre and I will want fresh ones for tonight."

I changed the sheets in preparation but, in snatched conversations throughout the day, I discussed with Irene whether it was actually a good idea to have Pierre stay over. It wasn't that I wasn't extraordinarily turned on by the thought or watching them, I was; admittedly, I was also a bit nervous that I might not be able to deal with actually seeing it for real. However, I was more concerned with our daughters. What would they think about it? What if they hear or see something? Irene reassured me. She said that at their age there was no reason for them to think there was anything unusual about adults having a sleep-over. She pointed out that there was no reason why they should hear or see anything but that we had taken them to the nude beach before so they had seen other naked bodies "...and anyway, it might be good for them to be aware that penises come in sizes larger than yours and that a wife can love her husband but still get her sexual satisfaction from someone better able to provide it." she teased. "As long as they see that we are all happy and comfortable with the situation they will accept it."

***

"Okay girls, say goodnight to your mother and Pierre. Pierre is going to stay here tonight, so you will see him tomorrow." I said, trying to herd the girls towards their bedroom. Irene was right, apart from asking whether Pierre would be sleeping on the new sofa-bed, to which I answered that he would, they seemed unperturbed by the situation.

Eventually, I got them changed and settled in to bed and, when I returned to the sitting room, I crept in, hoping to catch Irene and Pierre being naughty. Instead, I found them sitting together quietly on the sofa, staring in to each other's eyes. Pierre was slowly combing his hand through Irene's hair and she looked as though she was almost purring from this attention. I was somewhat taken aback by this. I guess I was expecting and hoping for sexual tension but this was more like sensual tenderness. I guess I had been naive because I had always imagined them vigorous fucking whenever they were alone. While I'm sure they do, it stands to reason that they would also be loving and tender. They leaned in close and started gently kissing. As their tongues explored each other's mouths, they were seemingly unaware of my presence in the room. Gradually their kisses became more passionate. Pierre's hand moved from Irene's shoulder down to her breast. Unrestrained beneath her shirt, her nipples were already erect and poking at the fabric. Pierre caressed Irene's breast, running his figures over the hard nub, before squeezing the whole breast more roughly. This rough treatment elicited a moan from Irene. Pierre responded by pulling at her nipple. Irene squirmed with pleasure. Her hand dropped to Pierre's lap where it deftly rubbed the length of his cock through the material of his trousers.

After a few minutes of this, Pierre broke from their embrace and softly asked Irene "Shall we continue this in bed?" She bit her lip and nodded yes with a seductive smile. Pierre turned to me and in a sterner, matter of fact, tone said, "Oscar, your wife and I are going to your bedroom to make love to each other. I believe that there is now a sofa-bed in there. I have agreed with Irene that you may be present but you are to remain on the sofa-bed at all times, unless we tell you otherwise. Is that understood?

"Yes...thank you." I replied my voice cracked with excitement and a feeling of submission.

"Good." Turning back to Irene, Pierre's manner softened again. "Right, I think that it is only proper that I carry you over the threshold of the marital bedroom." he said as he bent down and scooped her up in to his arms. Irene shrieked with surprise and flung an arm around his neck before burying her head in to his shoulder to stifle her giggles. Her skirt was too short to be trapped by Pierre's arm as it supported her under her knees and, as a result, it hung down exposing the backs of her thighs, her bottom and, poking out between her legs, her labia. They were swollen in anticipation of what was to come and, presented as they were, cried out to be licked. My eyes dropped from this beautiful sight to the bulge in Pierre's trousers, just a few inches below. The outline of his cock was now clearly visible, running down one leg of his trousers. He looked larger than I remember from when I saw him on the beach but not erect just more turgid. It wasn't straining the fabric but it was obvious there was a significant mass there that moved out of time with each step he took towards me. "Lead the way, Oscar" he said.

Pierre carried Irene in to the bedroom and playfully threw her on to the bed before jumping on after her. I sat on my sofa-bed while they returned to their kissing. Their hands were now exploring each other with more urgency. They both undid each other's shirts and struggled out of them. Their hands again continued their explorations; Irene's over Pierre's muscular frame while Pierre's enjoyed the curves of her breasts.

Both now topless, Irene pulled Pierre up until he was standing by the bed before she knelt on the floor in front of him. She kissed along the line of pubic hair that ran from his navel down in to his trousers. Briefly, she fumbled with his trouser button before slowly pulling down his zip. With an air of excitement, delight and wonder, she peeled the two halves apart to reveal a thatch of public hair and four inches of his cock, the rest still contained within the trouser leg. Irene worked Pierre's trousers down and as she did so his cock bobbed free. Letting the trousers drop to the floor, Irene continued her kisses along his shaft. Once at the tip, she eagerly grabbed the shaft with both hands and started running her tongue around the head as she slowly massaged its length. Incredibly, he started to get thicker and longer until he stood rigid at 45 degrees, his gland dark red and glistening with my wife's saliva. His manhood emanated a power, a sense of control, a certainty that it was going to have its way. I felt humiliated and slightly scared that this was about to penetrate my wife and yet, at the same time, I was probably more turned on than I had ever been seeing her handle it with familiarity and excitement.

Pierre lay back on the bed and Irene quickly clambered over the top of him adjusting his position so she was facing towards me. Squatting over Pierre, my wife took his cock in her hand and looked directly at me. She rubbed the tip of it up and down along the length of her pussy and then, still looking directly in to my eyes, she slowly lowered herself down on to it. As his gland disappeared between her now taut lips, Irene's eyes rolled up and she let out a groan. She had only taken half of him inside her on the first stroke but her body was soon moving down for a second and this time two-thirds of his shaft made it in. With the third a subsequent movements of her body she took all of Pierre within her. I looked on in awe as her cunt stretched with his girth.

Initially, Irene had been aware of my presence but she was now lost in the act of fucking. They changed positions until Irene was on all fours on the bed and Pierre was standing beside it fucking her from behind. Viewing this in profile, as I was, was amazing. I couldn't see Irene's pussy but I could see Pierre's cock moving in and out of her in rhythmical strokes. One moment their bodies are six inches apart, connected only by the bridge of meat protruding from Pierre's loins, the next moment, with a sharp slap, he is buried to the hilt and they are as close as can be. Each slap of flesh on flesh was accompanied by a load grunt from Irene. Luckily she had her face buried in a pillow to deaden the noise. Pierre picked up the pace, slamming in to Irene with more and more force until her grunts became one long scream and her body convulsed with orgasm.

Without seemingly removing his cock, Pierre flipped Irene on to her back, pulled her hips to the edge of the bed, and placed her ankles on her shoulders before continuing to fuck her.

"Oh God...that's deep" Irene gasped between thrusts. It sounded as though she was struggling to get her breath back.

"Have you been a naughty girl since I last saw you?" Pierre asked.

"Yes" she stammered.

"Have you been flirting with Jose?"

"Oh yes"

Yet again I was shocked and excited by something I had witnessed this evening. Again, my simplistic assumption that all Pierre and Irene did was fuck was shattered. Of course they would play and fantasize with each other and, given my wife's relationship with Pierre, why wouldn't this include other people. I was now desperate to know more. I knew Jose; he was the father of one of our daughter's friends and someone we hung out with socially. I also suspected that he would fuck Irene given half the chance but I didn't know that she had been flirting with him or that Pierre knew and seemed to be encouraging it.

"He volunteered to...oh god yes keep going like that...he volunteered to fill in for you...when you weren't available."

"What did you say to that?" asked Pierre while continuing with his steady fucking.

"I said that that would be a big task."

"How did he respond?" Pierre chuckled.

"He sent me...oh yes...a picture his cock."

"Oh really, and..?"

"Oh, it's nice...he's thick...not quite your length." Irene's voice was beginning to crack.

"How did you respond?"

"I sent him a photo...oh yes...of how...oh yes...of how wet he made me" Irene's confession was consumed by a powerful orgasm, the most powerful orgasm I have ever seen her have. It was almost too much for me, seeing my wife cumming from another man's cock while hearing that a friend of ours now had an image of her cunt that she had sent him.

Pierre joined Irene on the bed and caressed her as she came down. After a while he moved himself between her legs and started kissing, nibbling and licking around her now red and swollen pussy. When he could sense that she was ready, he moved his attention to her labia and her clit. When Irene's cooing turned to panting, he introduced a finger in to her and soon had her coming again, not as intensely but still significantly.

Irene didn't need to recover this time, as soon as she could talk, she looked down at Pierre and said, "Get that cock of yours back inside me." Pierre didn't need telling twice, he jumped up between her legs and began fucking. The two of them probably fucked like this for five minutes before their pace quickened. Again Irene was moaning with each thrust and, indeed, Pierre was also beginning to grunt as he slammed in to her. Suddenly, Irene grabs a pillow and smothers her own face as she lets out another cry. At the same time, Pierre releases a low grunt and from my vantage point I can see his balls contracting with each wave of his orgasm; each contraction pumping load after load of semen in to my wife's cunt.

Pierre lay on top of Irene for a while, his cock still inside her, as they both caught their breath. After a while they started gently rocking. Pierre raised himself up and out of Irene, kneeling between her spread legs. I thought that this might signify the end of their encounter but Pierre was still erect. Not with the same hardness as before but with, as I realized to my own shame and excitement, still a greater volume than I currently had in my most erect state. Pierre took hold of one of Irene's legs by the ankle and swung it in front of him, providing me with a view of her open pussy now dripping with their combined juices. This seemed like a familiar move to Irene and she rolled on to her side with her leg propped up. Pierre lay down beside her in a spooning position while Irene fed his cock back in to her wet cunt. With her leg still raised, I could see him slowly moving inside her and her gentle rocking of her pelvis to match his movements. Each small thrust appeared to coax more of the wetness from Irene's pussy. It pooled on her thigh before dripping down on to the sheet.