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. The Virtues of Infidelity

Discussion in 'Cuckold Stories' started by MichaelD, Oct 10, 1999.

  1. MichaelD

    MichaelD Member Author!

    From: MichaelD38 Subject: {ASS} NEW: {MichaelD} "The Virtues of Infidelity" (cheating, wife, teen) (3/4) Date: Tuesday, April 13, 1999 9:54 AM

    *********************************************** The Virtues of Infidelity Copyright 1999 by [email protected] Free redistribution permitted; no commericial use without authorization. ************************************************


    Paul Charles worked for a large development company that bought big tracts of land and subdivided them into parcels for resale to homebuilders. They built the backbone roads and utilities, and sometimes mass-graded the parcels, but built no homes themselves. Each subdivision required massive amounts of paperwork and supervision to comply with all the arcane legal regulations and court precedents that governed home building in California. Developers who screwed up the process got sued, sometimes out of existence. So Paul had to devote all his attention this job, no matter how much he sympathized with Kathy's loneliness. Well, maybe sympathy wasn't the best word. He understood it, but bit by bit he was losing his inclination to care. Over the last year or so, he had begun to realize that his wife no longer much attracted him sexually. It wasn't that he didn't think she was beautiful; he knew she was. It was just that plain vanilla sex no longer did much for him, and what was more frustrating was that he had no idea what might relight his interest in her. He suspected something was there, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Kathy seemed to be bugging him for sex less and less often lately, so maybe he wasn't the only one who felt like this. But that actually depressed him. They were only thirty-three, and that was too damn young to be losing interest in sex. Maybe they needed a vacation. Some kind of change. Something to knock them out of this rut.

    Once again, he had to work on Saturday. He couldn't remember the last day off he had had, but this deal they were working on was just consuming all of his time. As he was getting dressed, he accidentally dropped his wallet, and it bounced under the bed. He squatted down and reached under the dust cover, trying to find it. He found his wallet, but he also found something else--some unfamiliar wad of green fabric. He pulled it out and realized what it was: a garter belt, the one from that outfit Kathy had worn for him once about six months ago. He hadn't really liked it, and he hadn't seen it again since then. Had it been here all this time? No. As he thought of it now, he remembered that Kathy had gotten upset at his reaction to the outfit, and had thrown it all angrily into her closet afterward. So what was it doing here? He had no clue. She had worn it only once; he was sure of that. Well, at least only once for him. As the possibility dawned on him, he stared at the garter belt in a daze. Could she possibly be having an affair? God knew she wasn't getting as much sex as she wanted. She had made that clear enough, but he thought she understood why he had to work so much. He dropped the garter belt to the floor and kicked it back under the bed. He finished getting dressed and walked down to the kitchen, where Kathy was waiting with a cup of coffee in a travel mug. She handed it to him, and he regarded it blankly. "Are you going to be gone all day?" "I think so. I should be back at dinnertime." "Okay." No doubt about it. She was waiting for him to leave. "What are you going to do?" he asked. There it was--a flash of something--uncertainty, nervousness, maybe. She had paused just a split-second to formulate a response. "Um, I don't know. I thought I'd do some gardening." He looked down at his coffee and forced himself to take a sip. "All right. I'll see you tonight." She gave him a peck on the cheek and a pat on the back. But it was a pat in the direction of the door. She wanted him gone. "Bye." He went out to his car and drove down the block, then stopped on the corner and shut off the engine. He turned on his phone and called his boss. Feigning some "family emergency," he begged out of work that day. His boss didn't seem to like it, but didn't argue.

    He sat on the corner for nearly an hour watching his house, but nothing happened. Two or three times, he started the car and almost left for work, deciding he was imagining things. But each time, he saw his wife's face as he left. Something was going on. Just before ten, he saw a kid pushing a lawn mower down the street. He was high school-aged probably, and Paul didn't give him any real thought--until he stopped in front of their house and went up to the front door. As Paul watched in disbelief, he walked in without even knocking. Jesus Christ, he thought. It's the yard boy. The kid who mowed their lawn. She's screwing the goddamned yard boy. He sat there in a daze for five or ten minutes. Finally, he got out of his car and walked up to the house. He had no idea what to do-- he was vacillating between killing them both and just turning around for work and trying to forget the entire thing. When he got to the front door, he found that the kid had left it half-closed in his eagerness. He pushed it open slowly and closed it behind him. From upstairs, he could hear moaning, and he recognized Kathy's cries of passion. They were already busy. Very slowly, he tiptoed up the stairs. The doors to their bedroom were only partially closed, and he dropped to his knees to peer in through the gap. Both of them were naked. Kathy lay on her back on the bed, and the kid had his face buried between her legs. Neither of them were paying the slightest attention to anything but each other. Kathy was moaning, holding his head in place and rolling her hips up at him. He could see the kid's tongue rapidly lashing her sex. With a loud cry, Kathy began shuddering into orgasm. She thrashed under the kid's attentions for several seconds before pushing him off. He climbed up the bed and lay next to her. Paul remained where he was, wondering why he hadn't burst in on them. But he couldn't seem to move himself from his spot. As he watched, Kathy sat up and began sucking the kid's penis. With a stab of jealousy, Paul realized the kid was quite a bit bigger than he was-- was that what Kathy was after? But the jealousy began slowly morphing into something else. Scarcely able to believe it, Paul realized he was getting an erection as he watched his wife gobbling the kid's thick cock. Kathy sat back, threw a leg over the kid's waist, and began to ride him energetically. Paul's gaze remained fixed on the fat dick that was plumbing in and out of his wife. Almost involuntarily, Paul's hand drifted to his erection. Unable to stop himself, he began rubbing it, all the while watching his wife screwing some kid half her age. The two of them were soon moaning together and thrashing around on the bed. Kathy reached another orgasm, throwing herself to the side. They rolled over, and the kid mounted her from above. As he began fucking Kathy roughly, Paul found himself digging his hand into his pants. He took his erection in his hands and stroked it rapidly. As the kid cried out, planting his come deep into Paul's wife, Paul squirted off in his shorts. Aghast at what he had done, Paul struggled to his feet and slipped down the stairs. Praying they hadn't seen him, he ducked out the front door and walked rapidly to his car. Not until he got into the seat and drove away could he begin to relax. Every rational piece of Paul's mind rebelled at what had happened. Kathy was cheating on him; Kathy was fucking another man; Kathy was unfaithful. He should be outraged. He should be on the phone with his lawyer. He should be out buying a gun. But he could not drive that image of the two of them out of his head. He kept thinking about Kathy sucking that kid's cock, about her ramming herself down on it repeatedly until she thrashed in orgasm. Paul's dick was already throbbing again, trying to erect itself even though he had just come a few minutes before. He was actually getting turned on at the idea of his wife screwing someone else. It might be insane, but there it was.

    With nothing else to do, Paul went to work. For a few hours, he managed to lose himself in the job, though he kept pausing to think about what had happened. What to do? Again and again he tried to convince himself to be upset, to be angry somehow. He couldn't do it. Every time he tried to summon some sort of outrage, the salacious scene he had witnessed that morning kept reappearing in his head. So. If he wasn't going to be outraged, what was he going to be? If he wasn't going to stop this affair, what was he going to do about it? An idea began to form slowly in his head. It seemed crazy at first, but it was no crazier than the rest of this.


    For a week, Paul turned this idea over in his head, trying to decide what to do. He had a feeling that Kathy was seeing this kid during the week too, but he had no way of knowing when. But on Saturdays, when the kid mowed their lawn, Paul knew Kathy was giving him one hell of a tip afterward. So he would have to wait until then. He rose that morning fully expecting to see what he did when he got to the kitchen: Kathy waiting with a cup of coffee. "How long are you going to be today?" "All day. I'm sorry." She nodded. That was not disappointment he saw in her eyes. She gave him a peck on the cheek. "It's okay. I'll see you tonight." "Bye." "Bye, honey." He went out to his car and backed out of the garage. He drove down the street, but stopped on the corner and got out. Trying to walk as casually as he could, he returned to his house. He watched the windows closely as he approached but saw nothing. He slipped quietly through the side door, listening for any sound of his wife. He heard the shower going upstairs. Kathy was no doubt preparing for her lover. Moving as carefully as he could, he crept upstairs. The shower was still going, but Kathy was out of sight in the bathroom. Paul's closet was around the corner from it, and he ducked inside, shutting the door behind him. He positioned himself as best he could, peeking out around the sliding door. From the far end, he could just get a glimpse of their bed. He shut the door for now and waited. His heart refused to stop pounding in agitation, especially once he heard the shower stop. He could hear his wife walking around the room, getting ready. For nearly an hour, Paul sat uncomfortably in his closet. He could hear Kathy moving around, but did not dare peek out for fear of being seen. Then things were quiet for about five minutes. Then he heard the front door open, and someone climbing the stairs. "Hello, Casey." So that was the kid's name, Paul thought. "Hi." Unable to wait any longer, Paul opened the closet door slightly. His wife was leaning on her dresser, facing the door to their bedroom. She wore only a silk camisole that just barely covered her. He couldn't see the kid yet; he was out of sight around the corner. Kathy raised her right leg, putting her foot on the bed and lifting up the edge of her camisole. A moment later he saw why. "I shaved my pussy for you. Do you like it, Casey?" Paul gasped. This was not Kathy, his stable, professional wife. She had never acted like this with him. The kid suddenly came into view, moaning in anticipation. When he got close to Kathy, she extended her arm, holding him off. The kid dropped to his knees, bending forward and attacking Kathy's sex with his mouth. Kathy leaned back, taking his head in her hands. Paul fumbled for his erection, digging it out of his pants. He began stroking rapidly, not wanting to come this soon but unable to stop himself. The kid was going crazy, moaning as he licked at Kathy. Kathy scooted back on the dresser, putting her other foot over the kid's shoulder. She whimpered, pulling him closer. She began to shake under Casey's attack, and finally cried out, thrashing in climax and pushing him off. Paul forced himself to let go of his erection, knowing he was about to squirt off all over his closet door. The ache was unbearable, but he made himself wait. He didn't have to wait very long. Casey stood, and Kathy dropped to the floor in front of him. She dug his stiff cock out of his jeans and took it in her hand. She stroked it a few times, looking up at Casey's face. She extended her tongue and wiggled it over his glans. "What do you say, Casey?" "Uh, suck my cock. I want you to suck my cock." Kathy's mouth then descended onto his penis. Most of it disappeared into her before she pulled back. Paul was mesmerized, and his hand returned to his erection. He locked his eyes on the spot where Casey's cock was sliding in and out of his wife's mouth. She bobbed over him rapidly, and he could see her cheeks hollowing as she sucked on him. Paul masturbated furiously, all thoughts of restraint gone. Casey was oblivious to everything but his penis, holding Kathy's head. She gripped Casey's balls in her hand, playing with him. Casey cried out, legs shaking, and at the moment Paul could see him coming, when he knew Casey's come was spurting into his wife's mouth and he could see Kathy's throat convulsing as she swallowed, Paul came himself, splattering the back of his closet door with his sperm. The scent of it rose into the air around him, sour and pungent. Paul leaned back against his clothes, trying to catch his breath. He had never come that hard in his life, had never felt as drained as he did now, and he didn't want to think about why. Not fifteen feet away from him, his wife of four years was engaged in a passionate act of adultery. A minute or two later, he recovered enough to look back out the door. The two of them were on the bed together, clothes gone, caressing each other. He couldn't quite hear what they were saying, but he could see Kathy playing with Casey's cock. As Paul watched in amazement, she brought him back to erection within a few minutes. Kathy straddled the kid as Paul had seen her do the week before. The angle was perfect; he could see right up between the kid's legs, right between Kathy's buttocks to where that fat cock was slamming into his wife. Paul reached for his cock again, knowing he would never get hard again this soon but not caring. He stroked himself slowly, trying to summon another erection. Kathy and Casey were taking their time now, moving slowly. Kathy rode the kid in a smooth rhythm, rubbing herself against Casey's cock. He saw her leaning back, reaching around in front of herself. "Do you like that, Casey? I'm getting myself off for you. Watch me." Paul's cock leapt in his hand at those words. The ache at the base of his penis was deliciously agonizing, but slowly he began to erect again as he watched his wife masturbating over Casey's cock. She shuddered, she shook, and she soon thrashed in orgasm, throwing herself forward. Casey rolled her over, but she refused to allow him to simply mount her again. Instead, she rolled on her stomach, pushing her buttocks back at him. Paul could see it again now, could see Casey stabbing himself into Kathy's firm butt. He could see the kid's balls bouncing around, balls that were probably fizzling with another load of jizz that he was about to plant into Paul's wife. Kathy was slamming herself back at him, meeting every thrust. "Casey," she moaned, "do you want to fuck me in the ass?" The kid moaned incoherently, unable respond in his shock. Paul himself was no less surprised; Kathy never once indicated a desire for anal sex with him. His cock throbbed painfully, and he stroked it faster. He watched in amazement as Kathy reached under her, guiding Casey's cock up to her ass. Casey fumbled with her for a moment. He could see Kathy trying to stretch herself open, trying to expose herself to his entry. Then Casey forced himself in, and Paul watched as that fat cock disappeared into his wife's ass. Kathy kept her hand under herself and began masturbating as Casey slid awkwardly in and out of her. She cried out, bracing herself against the headboard with her free hand. Paul lost it again and pounded his dick insanely, so hard he worried about them hearing him. But they were clearly lost in each other, and were making so much noise themselves that they could not possibly hear. Kathy cried out, thrashing around under Casey, who was himself groaning as he closed in on his orgasm. Paul felt his sperm rising at last, and the three of them came as one, Casey spurting his come into Kathy's ass, Paul coating his closet door with another load. After that, Paul was too drained to do anything else, as aroused as he was. He watched as Kathy and Casey somehow fucked a third time a few minutes later, but finally the kid left and Kathy got into the shower. Paul slipped out of his closet and left the house as quickly as he could.


    Kathy stood under the spray, trying to let the glow of their lovemaking persist as long as possible. What had possessed her to offer her ass to Casey the way she had? She had never really been much attracted to anal sex, but all of sudden, when Casey was pounding from behind, the idea popped into her head. And she had done it. Drops of his come were still dribbling out of her, and she tried to clean herself with her finger. God. She was close to losing it over Casey. She knew he was in love with her, teenage love at least. He had as much as said so. She cared about him, but all she really loved about him was his cock and his incredible stamina. One of these days she was going to try to fuck him until he was unable to get it up anymore, just to see if she could. She realized she had not made love with Paul for over three weeks now. She would be ovulating again soon, because that had been the last time. So either she and Casey had to take a break, or she would have to figure out some protection to use. She wondered if Paul had noticed her change of mood, no longer seeming to care about their not having sex. She wondered at his reaction, were he to find out the truth. She finished her shower and began to dry off. After digging a bra and panty out of her dresser, she went to her closet and tried to decide what to wear for the rest of the day. She was picking through her blouses when something caught her attention. What was that smell? She turned around, sniffing. It was sperm, no question. She had known that odor since she was sixteen and had given Robby Boudreaux a hand-job in the back seat of his Camaro. Nothing else smelled like sperm. Convinced that Casey had left a calling card somewhere, she tried to find it lest Paul discover it. But when she walked toward the bed, the smell faded. She turned around, sniffing again. She took a step back toward the bathroom. There it was again. Where was it? She stood between her closet and Paul's. It was right around here somewhere. She leaned closer to Paul's closet, and the smell intensified. Confused, she slid back the door. Now the smell was twice as intense. She squatted down, inspecting the closet. She pawed at the carpet. There it was--a damp spot right next to the track. She brought her fingers up to her nose. It was sperm. Somehow, there was sperm on the floor of Paul's closet. Regarding her fingers in amazement, she sat down and leaned against her closet door. What was going on? Casey had been nowhere near Paul's closet. He had come into the bedroom, fucked her, and left. The sperm was fresh. She was sure of that. But if Casey was not responsible for it, who was? Her heart began to pound in fear, and she felt her body tensing up. There was only one possibility, as incredible as it seemed. Who else could have come in here but Paul? Who else would have known? She closed her eyes and began to shake as the reality of it unfolded in her head. Paul knew. Paul had come back home and hidden in her closet while she was with Casey. He had watched them. Watched them and masturbated while they were fucking. Nervous convulsions began to rack her body. She buried her head in her hands and rocked back and forth, sobbing in confusion and anguish. No, no, no, no, no, she thought. This had not happened. She had dreamed it all. She had not cheated on Paul. She loved him, even if he drove her crazy by ignoring her. Casey was a figment of her imagination. "Oh, God," she sobbed, "please. Please, please, please, no!"

    About an hour later, she had recovered enough to think about what had happened. Had it really been Paul? The only other possibility she could think of was Casey bringing a friend with him to watch. But when could this friend have possibly gotten into Paul's closet? She had been upstairs since Paul left. And as she thought back through that morning, she could not detect anything unusual in the way Casey had been behaving. So it had to have been Paul. He had come back here, deliberately, and hidden himself in her closet to watch her having sex with Casey. Not just to watch, to masturbate while he was watching. Why? For some reason beyond her comprehension, Paul was aroused at the idea of her infidelity. Aroused at the idea of her screwing someone else. Aroused enough to want to do something this crazy. What to do? She was not capable of confronting him with this; not when it would mean confessing her infidelity. Even if he obviously knew already. She began pushing it back down in her mind. Maybe this was all her imagination. Maybe somehow she had gotten some of Casey's sperm into Paul's closet, however ridiculous that sounded. Maybe, just maybe, if she ignored this whole thing, it would go away.

    A few days went by. Kathy was unable to sense anything different in Paul. He was working so much that it would have been hard to detect anything in him anyway. She would lie in bed at night, wondering what was going through his head, wondering why the idea of her having sex with another man aroused him. Wednesday night, she forced herself to snuggle with him, to indicate her desire for sex. At first, she thought he would reject her as he usually did, but then she remembered that she was ovulating this week. "Honey, we need to. It's time." "Oh. You mean . . . " "Yeah. We can be quick about it if you want." It was dark, so she couldn't quite read his reaction. "Okay." She cuddled with him, trying to drive all thoughts of Casey out of her brain. He kissed her for about thirty seconds, then pushed up her nightshirt to get at her breasts. When they had first been dating, he had been obsessed with them, lavishing all kinds of attention on them. Now, he would suck on her nipples for about ten seconds each before mounting her. She reached down for his penis, discovering to her surprise that he was completely flaccid. "Is something wrong?" "Uh." He didn't answer her right away. "I don't know." She slipped under the covers and took him into her mouth. She sucked on him eagerly, trying to ignore the obvious difference in sensations between Paul and Casey's rock-hard penis. She worked on him for a few minutes, but nothing seemed to happen. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm just tired." She sighed. "It's all right." "All this work lately." "It's all right, honey. I understand. You don't have to apologize." She snuggled with him and tried to get to sleep, wondering what was going on.

    *********************************************** The Virtues of Infidelity Copyright 1999 by [email protected] Free redistribution permitted; no commericial use without authorization. ************************************************
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