The Bmw

This is a continuing story about a cuckold relationship. If you are likely to be offended by this subject please do not read it. Constructive criticism and comments welcome.

Breathing heavily, Robbie shuffled through to the kitchen and as if in a dream, began to wash the dishes which he had previously deposited in the sink. He dropped a couple of forks on to the floor as he tried in vain to control his hands. This was going to be a long night, how was he going to cope, he had no idea.

Later, Robbie's vivid imagination was working overtime and he could not concentrate on the book he was trying to read to pass the time.

At eight thirty pm he threw down the book and decided to go to the local pub for a drink. He hoped the hustle and bustle in the pub would help to calm him down and take his mind off what Lisa and her black lover would be getting up to.

Luckily, the pub was a mere ten minute walk from his house so there was no need to take the car.

He was pleasantly surprised that the pub was already very busy and paying for a pint of ale he made his way to a vacant seat in the corner of the room.

Trying to be as anonymous as possible he attempted to read the local paper which he found lying on the table but he found it impossible to concentrate and finally gave up. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him and he started to take in the scene around him.

The Castle Inn was indeed a very busy hostelry and the noise level confirmed this. It seemed that everyone was talking at once, trying to be heard above the blare of the loud background music.

At first he didn't recognise anyone then a couple entered the bar arm in arm, laughing they managed to get seats at a table on the other side of the room.

Stunned, Robbie watched as the bold Maurice made his way to the bar to order drinks. He shifted his gaze back to the woman now sitting alone. Blonde, pretty good looking, probably in her late thirties and looking a little bit nervous, as she sat waiting for her escort to return from the bar.

She looked familiar. Then it hit him, well, well, well, Mrs Poole, the bank manager's wife. He had met her at a Rotary dinner dance which he and Lisa had been invited to last winter. Her husband was the club Treasurer.

What was she doing here with Maurice?

Returning with their drinks Maurice settled down next to his blonde companion. Robbie watched intently as they clinked their glasses together in a silent toast, gazing knowingly into each others eyes.

They didn't stay long. Finishing their drinks Mrs Poole whispered something in Maurice's ear then made her way to the ladies powder room. Now sitting alone, Maurice started to look around him and very soon he noticed Robbie sitting quietly in the corner on his own.

Robbie almost wet himself as he watched Maurice get up from his chair and make his way towards him. Standing tall in front of Robbie, Maurice said, coldly and without any feeling. "Good evening Mr Kay, I just want to say sorry for what happened. I hope you have forgiven me."

Robbie remained seated and looking up he managed to say. "It's okay, now that I know it's over."

Just then Mrs Poole emerged from the ladies room. Looking over his shoulder, Maurice indicated that he was just coming. Then leaning over he whispered in Robbie's ear.

"I see you are on your own tonight. Let me guess, Lisa's out with her new man. I'd heard she'd moved on to pastures new."

Turning abruptly he made his way over to where Mrs Poole was waiting for him. Robbie watched speechless as they left the pub. How could that bastard Maurice know that Lisa was out on a date?

Rising unsteadily, Robbie made his way out of the pub just in time to see Maurice's BMW exit the pub car park. As the car passed where he stood he noticed that Mrs Poole was snuggled up close to Maurice as he steered the car out on to the main road.

A few seconds later another car exited the car park and Robbie immediately recognised the driver. Mr Poole, the bank manager, he was following Maurice's car.

As he made his way home, Robbie's mind was trying to figure out what was going on with Maurice and Mrs Poole and what did Mr Poole intend doing about the situation. He must know that Maurice is shagging her, so he must be going to try and catch them at it.

He wondered whether she had made it in to Maurice's trophy photo album yet. He winced as he remembered the photos and that his darling wife Lisa was one of Maurice's conquests. He wondered how many people had seen the pornographic photos of his wife and sniggered at their vulgarity.

It was now ten thirty pm as Robbie reached home and opened the front door. Slumping down into his favourite easy chair he began to imagine what his darling wife must be doing with her new black boyfriend. The thoughts that filled his mind were at the same time both gut wrenching and sexually stimulating.

"God, I must be really perverted to be excited like this, to actually take pleasure in the knowledge that Lisa is getting fucked by a big black man with a huge cock. But I can't help myself, I know that I only have a little penis and Lisa really does need a big cock which she surely deserves. Oh, God, I hope she's enjoying it. I love her and adore her, she's just, so sexy. I just want her to have the biggest and best of everything. Please help me to serve her and worship her as the goddess she is."

Getting up he went to the bedroom and stripped naked. Opening his drawer he took out the pair of knickers that Lisa was wearing when Maurice first fucked her. She had been pleased that he had remembered to put them on last night. Hopefully she would be pleased again. Slowly and sensually he slipped them on, enjoying the feel of the soft silk against his throbbing little penis. He mustn't touch himself for fear of cumming. Lisa would not like it if he had pleasured himself before she got home. She had said that she expected him to behave himself whenever she is out on a date.

Lying on the bed he tortured himself by imagining all sorts of intimate and sordid actions which his beloved wife and her lover would be enjoying. What were they doing right now, right at this very moment? How he wished that he could somehow witness the intense passion of their affair. Oh, if only he could be a fly on the proverbial bedroom wall.