The Lockwells Of Virginia

The sex in this particular tale is secondary to the plot of the story. This is not a torch the bitch story. If you want to read that type of story look elsewhere. Those of you that don't like a wife cheating on her husband and cuckolding him, should go no further with this story. This story is about cuckolding and cheating.

*

If you have ever been to Virginia you have probably heard about my family, the Lockwell's. I am Vincent Lockwell and I am president and owner of Lockwell Industries. My family and I own two food procession plants in Virginia as well as a chain of electronic outlets in every state on the east coast. But my biggest achievement, the one in which I take the most pride in, is the Lockwell law firm which two of my sons and one of my daughters helped me built over the years.

Oh yes, I forgot to mention that I am also responsible for the introduction and production of some prestigious and of course very expensive brands of wine. I always tend to forget that part of my empire but there is a good reason for this.

You see I am a lawyer or should I say I was a lawyer when I was younger. I am now 88 and at this very moment, while I am explaining to you what is going on inside my mind, I am in a hospital stretched on my deathbed.

Yes, the doctors discovered a year ago that I had liver cancer; I was told yesterday that I was about to meet my maker in a few short hours. Each of my children came to visit me earlier in the day. I saw many tears in their eyes and I know that they all love me very much. Now I am suppose to rest, but my mind is in the process of reliving all the important events that occurred in my life before I undertake this final trip.

I have nothing to complain with my life, well very little. Except for a few wrong decisions I made and a few bad deeds, which were done over the years and of which I am ashamed and ask the good Lord to forgive me, I sincerely believe that I have live a good life. I also know that I will be leaving my mark on this world.

But by far, the greatest feat in my entire life and that which I am the most proud of, was raising my children in the path of rightness and fairness and planting in their mind the notion of always respecting others.

You see, my wife and I, we raised a family of six children, three boys and three girls. Every single one of them is now married and with children of his or her own. But what makes it so special about my children is not the fact that my wife and I raised them to become good and caring individual. No, in those days when my wife and I began working on our family, it was expected of young couples to have many children and for parents to guide them on the right path in life.

No, what makes it so special for me is the fact that when I was a young teen - it was in the early forties then - I became very sick. For two days and two nights I had a very high fever. I did get well after a week or so, but later in life when I was older, I learned that the fever had affected my capacity to have children. When I had myself checked after a few years of married life, and once I realized that my wife was still not in the family way, I was told by my doctor that my sperm count was zero. In other word I would never be able to father children.

Now you might ask yourself, how is it possible for me to be the father of six children when I was always shooting blanks? Some might suggest that I married a widow with six children and raise them as my own; others might believe that we started adopting children once we were married.

No! We didn't do anything like that. Let me tell you how it all happened.

* * *

I was born in the year 1922 in a small town on the east coast of the United States. My father abandoned my mother just a few years after I was born and when I was five, my mother died of tuberculoses. I don't even remember my mother's face and have never seen a picture of her -- it was not very common to take picture in those days. But I was told later (by my grandmother with whom I went to live) that she was very pretty and that she loved me a lot.

After the death of my mother, I went to live with my grandmother in a large house on the fringe of a small town called Rockridge. In those days life was simple and difficult, half of the children of my age didn't go to school at all and the other half either had rich parents or had to work at home while attending school.

But even though I had not been born into a rich family, I was still one of the lucky one since my grandmother insisted that I completed my secondary education once I had graduated from primary school. So, for the next four years I was among the privilege one that attended Rockridge Secondary School.

Even though it was not common for someone to graduate from high school in those days, this was still not enough for my grandmother. She then insisted that I should go to college as soon as I was done with my high school education. By then WWII was just ending and the world economy was starting to roll again.

Of course money was still very tight for us, this plus the fact that I had to board in a big city so as to continue with my schooling, was causing hardship on both of us. Soon grandma had to sell part of the farm to pay for my expenses. Then six months before I was to graduate as a lawyer, my grandmother who was my only living relative, died in her bed.

It was 1944 then and I was twenty-two. That year I graduated and became a lawyer.

Right after my graduation, I sold my grandmother's house as well as the rest of the land around the house and with the money from the sale of the farm; I bought a car and a small house in Rockridge.

Until then I hadn't had the time or the money to go out with girls very often, my only experiences with the opposite sex being the half dozen dates that I had had. Of course I did get to kiss some of them and one even let me feel her breasts over her dress once, but this is about as far as my experience had gone with girls by the time I graduated.

It was just a few months after I began working that I met my future wife.

I had been hired to work for a small law firm in Rockridge and I was earning very good money. On weekends I used to jump in my car and ride around the countryside enjoying the scenery. In my heart I was still a country boy and I didn't like living in the city.

On one of those rides, while driving into the countryside about thirty miles from home; I was riding on a poorly maintained road and admiring the many trees on each side of the narrow road when I heard a strange clacking coming from the motor of my car.

For the last twenty minutes I hadn't seen any traffic and until I heard that strange noise coming from my motor, I was feeling very good, while admiring the countryside. Then a few seconds after hearing the noise the motor went dead. The car had just enough momentum for me to guide it safely to the side of the road.

Of course I did open the hood and had a look inside. But since I knew very little about cars, I realized that I needed help.

The closest building I could see was the steeple of a small church about two miles ahead and way to my right. I could tell that it was located on a side road therefore I began to walk across the fields on a straight-line path toward the church. When I got there half an hour later I noticed a well-kept house situated a couple hundreds feet from the church.

I immediately walked to the house and knocked on the door. As soon as the door opened I experienced something I had never felt before in my life. It was as if the young woman standing in front of me had a strange power over me. I just stood there in front of her speechless and I couldn't take my eyes off her.

She was about twenty and of average height. She was certainly not a beauty queen but neither was she ugly. There was something about her that made me want to keep on looking at her. Even though I didn't realize it at the time, I felt in love with her on that first meeting.

Her name was Mary-Beth Goldman, she was the only child of the minister, she was living with her mother and father in the house next to the church. I learned a couple of weeks later than even thought she was twenty, she had never traveled farther than fifty miles from her house. I soon realized also, after I got to know her better, that she was unbelievably naïve for a girl of her age

Mary-Beth or Beth as I preferred to call her, had a strange effect on me from that first day I saw her, I felt extremely attracted to her, for some reason I couldn't explain to myself, I had a strong urge to hug her and hold her in my arms. I thus knew then, when I first saw her that day as she opened the door to me, that I was meeting my soul mate. She was the one whom I had been waiting for all my life and I knew that I had to get to know her better.

She had shoulder long brown hair and stood about five foot and seven inches tall with strong hips and a very thin waist. Her large hazel eyes seamed to reach for me and I couldn't move my eyes away from her face. But what attracted my attention the most were her fleshy, plump lips that seemed made to be kiss.

On that day, as she stood in front of me in the doorway of her house, she was wearing a knees-length plaid jumper with a long sleeves, white blouse underneath. Even so I could tell that she had a very generous and attractive bust underneath all the layers of clothing covering her.

It wasn't long before I started dating Beth. At first her father didn't approve of me but her mother did and since Beth was already twenty and old enough to choose for herself, I gradually got to know her better as we dated.

The first time I kissed her she was surprised at first. Even though she didn't protest, she didn't cooperate either. But when I kissed her again a few days later she kissed me back and I could tell that she liked what I was doing to her. From then on she would let me kiss her whenever I dared do it and it was very evident that she was enjoying it very much.

Soon kissing her led to fondling her bosom and then I discovered how beautiful her breasts were. They were even more attractive than I had imagined them to be. Being on the voluminous side, each was tipped with a long, brown nipple, which was centered in the exact middle of each circular, light brown areole. After that first time when I handled and kissed her bare bosom, I couldn't get enough of touching and pressing her beautiful breasts.

We would pretend to be going to a movie and most of the times I would take her to my house where we would kiss and explore each other's body.

One early evening while we were in my house kissing, I took her hand and placed it over the front of my pants. Instead of immediately pulling her hand away as I half expected her to do, she proceeded to press and close her hand over my erection. Then all of a sudden she said to me in a trembling voice.

" Can I see your... thing Vincent?"

I remember answering in a soft voice full of emotion that sounded so weak.

" Yes, take it out, I want you to press it and rub it."

As soon as she had my erection in her right hand, I noticed that her breathing became much faster. A few seconds later, she reached for my erection with her left hands stroking and pressing it as if it was a work of art.

" It's so beautiful and warm. I have never seen one before."

" It's called a penis or a cock, Beth. Have you never heard those words before? " I said to her in a shaking voice.

" No of course not. My parents never allow me to talk about these matters."

She continued fondling my cock and balls for long minutes then all of sudden she said with a voice full of emotion.

" Please... can... can I kiss your... cock Vincent? Will it be ok with you if I kiss it? "

Who was I to say no to such a request? Yes, on that memorial evening she made love to my cock, there is no other word to describe what she did. She held it in her hands while kneeling between my legs and she handled my erection and balls as if they were a most sacred relic. I then watched her move her head slowly and very deliberately toward the head of my cock, all of a sudden I saw it disappear inside her mouth. For the next twenty minutes she proceeded to make love to my erection as she sucked and stroke it; she even managed, once in a while to take my balls into her hungry mouth.

"Your penis is so pretty Vincent, I wish I could always hold it in my hand and squeeze it. It's mine now and all mine."

Yes, making love to my erection is the only way to describe what she did that first time. Soon she was kissing the head and licking the whole length. Even though I tried to prevent it from happening, after a while I came on her lips and all over her face.

She looked surprise at first but that didn't stop her from licking and sucking all my juice with her tongue and lips.

Even though we didn't fuck that first time, I did get to feel her cunt and lick it. I even gave her a couple of orgasms with my mouth; it was now evident to me that she was sold on the idea of sucking and licking.

Naturally this led us later in the week to have complete intercourse, Beth took to having sex with me like a duck takes to water. Less than three months after we had started to go out together, she was always the one initiating sex with me. From then on, we were fucking whenever we were alone together.

Less than nine months after we had met, we were married and she moved into my house with me. By then Beth was dying to start having children and since I was now doing extremely well as a lawyer, we bought a much larger house in Rockridge Height, a house with a lot of land all around it.

The house as well as the whole street was situated on a tall and long ridge on the southern part of town. It provided a wonderful view of the town itself below us as well as the wide river a few miles away. It was a very large house and it had been built fifty years previously, but it was still in a very good condition, beside a new roof and painting it needed very little repair.

We had neighbors on both sides of us but since most of the houses on that street had been built on large estate lots, our neighbors were at least a hundred yards on each side of us.

In front of us, on the other side of the street there were no houses since the rock ridge was not wide enough on that side of the street for houses to be built there. At the back of the house there was a wood that led to a small road behind our street. We therefore had all the privacy we wanted and were still close enough to the town below us.

To the left of our house lived a couple that had no children. They were the Erickson. Sven Erickson was Swedish by birth and he was thirty, he had already been married to his American wife Alexandra for a couple of years.

Alexandra was about Beth's age but unlike my wife, she had long dark hair and was shorter than Beth. She was very pretty and laughed all the time. As soon as we moved into our new house both women became very good friends.

Sven and I didn't catch up like the women did, as a matter of fact I found him self centered and very arrogant. Therefore, even though our wives were good friends and were visiting each other all the time, I had to force myself to be nice to Sven. I suppose he didn't appreciated my company more than I did and we only talked to one another on those special occasions when the four of us were eating together in the yard.

I soon learned that Sven's family had move to America when he was a young lad. His father had been in the business of winemaking. Sven was now the owner of his father business and he had a dozen employees working full time for him in a downtown location. He even had four or five brands of wine that were sold in half of the states in the country. In the constant and ideal temperature of his large basement he was always experimenting in making new kinds of wine.

His basement was the perfect place to experiment with wine making. Having been dug in solid rock, it was also connected to a small cave. The temperature and humidity there was ideal for the slow fermentation needed for good wine, it was even perfect for storing it afterward. It was the best wine cellar that one could ask for.

It must be mention here that deep below some of the houses on the ridge where both of our houses were situated, there were many naturals caves linked with man made tunnels deep below in the rock. These had been used a century earlier to store contraband merchandize. Since the main tunnels had an exit that led to the river, this system had also been used during the prohibition to hide and ship illegal liquors by mean of the river.

Sven's parents had immigrated to America from Sweden and they were both dead now. As for Sven, he was the typical looking Viking type. He was tall with lot of muscles; he kept his blond hair quite long even though it was not in fashion at the time. He also had clear blue eyes and even his voice was deep and powerful. Yes he certainly had that wild look which comes into people's mind when they hear the word 'Viking'.

But I didn't like him at all. He had this egocentric attitude about himself and more than once I watched him looking at my wife in ways that left nothing to the imagination. I even told Beth a few times about this, but it seemed to amuse her and it just made her laugh, she would then ask me if I was really jealous of Sven.

***

We had been living in our new house for a full year now and still Beth was not pregnant. So one day, she suggested that we should both go and see our family doctor so as to check if there was something wrong with either of us.

She got a separate appointment for each of us and when I came home the following Monday, she immediately threw her arms around my neck telling me that she was in perfect health to have babies. She was now eager to know what the doctor would tell me since my appointment was on Friday of the same week.

Well, after answering many questions, the doctor got a sample of my sperm and he examined it through a microscope. I was then shocked to learn that my sperm count was nil, zero. In other word if I should ever become a father it would be a miracle. It seemed that the fever I had had while I was a teen had destroyed my capacity for making those little swimmers that were needed to make babies.

I was devastated; I couldn't even try to imagine how Beth would react to this news. After all she was extremely eager for us to start having children. I then realized that adoption was our only option now. But I was not really keen to do that yet.

Therefore I made up my mind to tell my wife a little lie. I knew that sooner or later I would have to tell her the truth, but I wanted to wait a little before telling her the bad news. So when I got home that day, I told her that there was nothing wrong with me and we should have no problem having children of our own.

* * *

So live moved on and Beth and I continued to fuck like minks. She couldn't get enough of my cock in her cunt and mouth. As soon as I would get home from work she would often insist that we fuck before eating. Even in bed, after we were done having sex, she would insist on keeping my cock in her hand for half the night.

Beth was insatiable as far as sex was concerned, she never had enough of it and she was always willing and eager to try new things. She often begged me to fuck her in the ass but I just couldn't bring myself to stick my cock in her shit hole. Oral sex, both receiving and giving it was a must for her. Each time that she made me cum with her mouth, she would swallow every drop of my juice, for me it was very exiting to know that she enjoyed the taste of my cum. It then occurred to me that she probably was a nymphomaniac, sex was as important to her as breathing was. But it didn't worry me since I was willing to give her all the fucking she wanted.