The Territorial Husband Ch 01

I am the territorial husband. My wife is blonde, 39 with a beautiful face and massive natural boobs. She dresses immaculately and smells divine. Her voice is soft and gentle. I am the only man she has ever had sex with and she was 17 when I met her and married her a year later. No children. She does exactly as I say and is in awe of me.

In bed she gives me everything I desire. She considers it an honour to please me and always thanks me for the privilege of doing so. She diligently sucks my cock/ balls and licks my arse. She continuously thanks me for fucking and licking her to climax. She adores me. I am the territorial husband

She on occasions needs to attend an evening function with her friends. Prior I always insist in either my sperm inside her whilst dressed to the nines or at very least rubbed into her ample bosom. Sometimes I will even take her up the arse prior to such engagements and yet she continues to be grateful. I am the territorial husband

One evening she didn't return home at the 11.30pm promised. I rang her to no avail. I then rang one of her friends who informed me they left her at the Brighton hotel for her to get a cab home. I was worried. I duly drove to the hotel and asked reception if they had seen her after describing her and showing a recent photo. The young French receptionist seemed uncomfortable but informed me she believed she was on the fourth floor in room 404. With haste I took the lift. A sudden feeling of apprehension can over me. Why is she in this room? Is she drunk? But it's so out of character and she's not answering her phone. What on earth is she doing? Outside the door I could hear what sounded like some sort of commotion inside but took a deep breath and knocked loudly three times. Suddenly all was silent. I did so again even louder, this time calling her name. I could hear tentative footsteps towards the door. It clicked as if to unlock but wasn't opened. I then slowly turned the handle and opened the door of room 404. I am the territorial husband...

Scarcely able to believe my eyes I was confronted by the sight of naked young men, I counted eight, all gathered around a huge four post bed. I walked towards that bed with somehow the youths oblivious to my presence. To my horror my darling, dutiful wife was tied naked to that bed by her wrists. And she was blindfolded. The boys were taking it in turns to insert their stiff cocks in her mouth and she greedily sucked in the way I had taught her. One by one each youth was satisfied as they came in her beautiful mouth, my wife's face dribbling in copious spunk. Why am I permitting this? I thought I was the territorial husband...

I found it so strange nobody seemed to notice my presence. Also the lads didn't touch the rest of her perfect body which I found ludicrous. I was so tempted to fuck her there and then but somehow something prevented me from doing so. Half angry yet strangely aroused I'd seen enough, so I decided to get away from this madness and leave her to it, absolutely fascinated what she would say upon her return

Almost in a trance I took the 25 minute drive back to out bungalow. I made straight for our bar and poured myself a huge brandy and collapsed in my chair. After pouring a few more I was dead to the world, obliviously drunk, not really caring whether I woke or not. My world was in tatters. Perhaps it was time to end it all. Eventually with a sore head and noticing daylight I glanced at my watch showing 8.15am. I staggered to the bedroom. Surprisingly my beautiful wife lay fast asleep. I undressed and jumped in with who I thought was my faithful wife. She's snoring and out cold. What happened? I intend to find out. After all, I am the territorial husband...

It was a Sunday morning and I didn't have to work. As per normal my dutiful wife prepared me breakfast in bed and looked as beautiful as ever when she presented it. She gently kissed me on my forehead and told me 'Enjoy it darling'. Frankly I couldn't eat a thing, my stomach churning over and my mind in utter confusion and hurt. It was 11.30am and after just a few gulps of coffee I simply left the full English breakfast. I put on my dressing gown and walked into the living room; as per normal my beautiful wife was on her exercise bike. She blew me a kiss as she normally did. She was exactly as normal. I just couldn't understand her unaffected attitude. But I dare not ask about last night, not yet

Sunday meant my managing a local football team and after showering I gently though almost reluctantly kissed my beautiful wife, saying I'd be home around 7pm; the team normally finished their game around 4.30pm and we'd have a couple of drinks in the club bar after. But I wasn't in a good place. Normally I'd be highly motivated to inspire this team of enthusiastic guys in their twenties, but I'm sure they could sense my relative lack of enthusiasm, my mind clearly elsewhere. Shortly after the kick-off I told my assistant I wasn't feeling well at all and asked whether he'd take over the reigns, to which he reluctantly agreed. I stopped at the local supermarket on the way home to buy some wine, I seriously needed it, then arrived home. Surprisingly there was a mini-bus parked in the drive and I had absolutely no idea who would own such a vehicle and be present of all days on a Sunday. Then this dreaded feeling came over me, something horrific I feared and my stomach needed to vomit. I was shaking and sweating with a terrible apprehension as never before in my 41 years as I tentatively approached my front door.

It was unmistakably my wife's shrills I heard coming from the bedroom. I knew them so well. Suddenly anger overtook me. I was at the point of actually killing any man who dare lay a hand on her. Whilst just about to open the main bedroom door I could have sworn I heard other female voices; I then calmed myself before very gently opening the door. My beautiful wife, as before, was tied to the bed, blindfold and completely naked, being pleasured by, I counted: EIGHT naked and gorgeous young women. They didn't see me initially, though when one did she scarcely took any notice. They were licking her delectable cunt, sucking her huge tits and her perfect painted toes, something that I knew sent her crazy. With a massive hard-on yet still confused and hurt I hastily got out, jumped in my car and headed for a pub in town

I ordered an expensive bottle of their red, still having no appetite, then duly knocked it back, my life in shatters within less than 24 hours. I was furious, hurt, confused yet bizarrely aroused. In a ruthless, irreverent mood, I clocked a young girl, 20 max, giving me 'that' look. Fuckit, and I gestured her over to my table. Turned out her name was Chelsea and she was merely 18. Did I give a fuck? Nope. After a few drinks and loads of crappy small talk she agreed to go to a hotel with me and frankly I fucked the arse off her. I didn't want to see her again and made that quite clear; she was surprisingly hurt but the bastard in me didn't care. In fact I got angry with her when she started getting clingy and tearful and told her to fuck off and go back to her parents. Chelsea was a great shag, we were at it for hours, but I still loved my wife and any empathy I may normally have had was non-existent. I'd become a cold and heartless bastard. And I was feeling very sorry for myself: The territorial husband...