Of Mud And Mist

The rain has finally stopped tapping on the roof of the car, and everything is quiet again. There's something eerie that hangs in the air right after a thunderstorm...the sky is almost too quiet. And the fog always seems a little thicker.

Every time the door opens, I crane my neck to see if it's them. It's going on 10:30 now and they're still in the restaurant. This waiting is driving me crazy! Nothing to read. Nothing to keep my mind occupied. Nothing to do except sit here and wonder.

Who ever said life was fair? I sure got a shitty deal, didn't I? I gave her everything I had...every ounce of my love - and she wiped her ass with it. All I ever wanted was for us to have a happy marriage. But I gave on that dream a long time ago.

Now I'm just trying to survive.

In the old days, I used to fantasize about coming to Melanie's rescue: I'd save her from drowning or something, and she would be eternally grateful. We'd live happily ever after.

Who ever guessed things would turn out like this?

Betrayal. It's a feeling you can never imagine unless you've had it happen to you. Most men would have the balls to get out of a situation where they're being hurt over and over again. I, unfortunately, do not.

Melanie says it's my fault. "If you weren't such a fucking wimp, maybe we could have a normal relationship," she tells me.

"Put yourself in my shoes," she says. "On the one hand, you have Ron, who's sexy, and intelligent, and funny, and successful. And then there's you: dumpy...uninspired...a complete loser! Now, tell me the truth: who would you pick if you were me?"

Maybe it is my fault. She is right about one thing: I'm certainly not a very motivated person. I'm not the kind of guy who wants to go out all the time. I don't like being around people. All I want to do when I get home from work is relax and watch a little television.

That's the exact opposite from Melanie: she hates to sit at home, and she's out just about every night. If she isn't on a date with Ron, she's having dinner with a friend or going to a hockey game with her co-workers. I spend many lonely nights waiting for my wife to come home from yet another evening of painting the town red.

But weekends are even worse. That's when Ron stays over, usually from Friday evening until Sunday. To have him walking around our home like he owns the place is just too much for me to bear...





I told you what happened when he came over last Friday night. I made dinner for Mel and Ron, then I spent the entire meal on my knees with Ron's dick in my mouth. After dinner, they went off to the bedroom. I could hear the grunts and the moans and the "Oh, Gods" until 3 in the morning.

They slept in until noon. I spent the morning washing and waxing Ron's Ferrari; that was his last order before he took Mel off to bed. I had to get up around six to do it, because I wasn't sure how early they'd wake up.

A few early-birds drove down our street and looked at me kind of funny. Come to think of it, I guess it is unusual to see someone out in the driveway washing a Ferrari at six in the morning! But I'm used to all the funny looks by now.

Because they slept in so late, I was able to get a lot done. By the time Melanie and Ron started to stir, I'd already washed his car, straightened up the house, washed and ironed the clothes he wore last night, and had breakfast cooking.

Bacon and eggs, with toast and jam...orange juice, and slices of fresh honey-dew melon. I arranged it all neatly on the serving tray, then topped it off with the morning paper and a nice rose in a crystal vase. I scooped up the heavy offering and made my way to the bedroom.

"Come in," my wife called in response to my timid knock. Mel was sitting on the edge of the bed, filing her toenails. Ron was in the adjoining master bathroom taking that long first piss of the day.

"Good morning, Mistress," I said cheerfully as I set the tray down onto the king-sized mattress. I wasn't really in a good mood - I never am when Ron stays over. But I know my mistress doesn't like a sulking slave, so I have to put on an act...or risk getting the shit beat out of me!

"I hope you both had a good evening," I continued in a cheerful, yet humble tone of voice.

Ron sauntered naked into the bedroom, his big dick flopping confidently back and forth with each step. "Oh, we had a GREAT evening, didn't we, Mel?" he said.

Melanie had a dreamy look in her eyes. She smiled softly and put her hand to her breast. "Mmmmmmmmm....last night was out of this world, baaaaby!" She looked at me and her smile broadened. "Four times, Davy!" she said, twirling her four fingers right under my nose. "We did it four times last night! Can you believe it? Four times!! Isn't Ron just the GREATEST?!!?"

"Yes, Mistress," I whispered, trying to avoid eye-contact with the smirking Ron.

"Alright, that's enough about my prowess in the sack," Ron said as he plopped down onto the bed. "We all know who the Bone-Master is around here." He looked over at Melanie. "Since you like my cock so much, little bitch, you can feed me my breakfast! And be quick about it, slut!" he ordered, only half-joking.

Without a second of hesitation, my wife scooted up to her reclining lover and began slowly feeding him with a fork. After a few bites, Ron looked over at me. "You," he said, still chewing his mouthful of food. "Get over here and suck my toes."

I knelt at the foot of the bed and took Ron's big toe gently between my lips. While I abased myself at his feet, I managed to sneak a few peeks up at them every few minutes. Melanie looked like a Geisha girl, sitting on the bed with her legs tucked up under her, tenderly feeding her lover.

The look on Ron's face was absolutely sickening. It was obvious he was feeling awfully pleased with himself! I guess he had reason to be pleased: here he was in this couple's house, with a stunningly beautiful woman feeding him breakfast while her husband submissively sucked his toes! Ron had the calm, bemused smirk of a man who knows he has the world by the tail. It was the look of a true king!

Ceaser. Nero. Ramses. Henry VIII. No monarch ever felt more regal than Ron did at that moment!

When they finished eating, they laid back on the bed while I removed the tray and took it to the kitchen.

By the time I got back into the bedroom, Ron was on top of my wife, slowly humping her thigh. Melanie had her face buried in Ron's shoulder, and her breathing was starting to get heavy.

Mel noticed me first. "Don't just stand there gawking at us, you sorry sack of shit!" she spat at me just before Ron effortlessly flipped her over and sat her on his lap. "Get over here and make yourself useful - lick my ass!"

It was difficult to keep my tongue in her butt as she rode Ron's cock up and down. As her humping grew faster, Mel's ass began to slam into my face.

Luckily, it didn't take them long to cum. Melanie thrashed around wildly on his cock, screaming bloody murder as the orgasm swept through her body. I tried to keep up, but it was nearly impossible as Ron was holding her by the hips and moving her up and down on his cock at lightening speed as he loudly enjoyed his own orgasm..

Melanie fell back onto the bed. My mouth followed her butt down to the mattress.

I continued licking my wife's anus as she nuzzled up to Ron, tenderly stroking his hair. Feeling playful, Melanie started mewing in Ron's ear, which she knows tickles him. He laughed and turned his head from side to side, trying to avoid my wife's darting tongue.

Meanwhile, down below, I was finding it hard to breathe. Her ass was squished right up against my face, and I was gasping for air. The gamey smell of their lovemaking was just inches from my nose, and my chin was starting to get wet from the cum oozing out of Mel's pussy.

I heard Ron burp loudly, causing Melanie to retreat in semi-mock disgust. "Grrross!" she complained dramatically, while Ron chuckled lightly to himself, as if he'd just done something really clever.

Then Ron leaned up on one elbow and looked down at me with an amused expression. He watched me lick Melanie's ass for a few minutes before turning back to Mel.

"What do you think, honey?" he asked my wife. "Has our little fag-slave earned the right to taste my love puddin' this morning?"

"Hmmm...I don't know," Mel replied, placing her finger on her chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "He's really doing a nice job of lickin' my ass."

"And the breakfast was just scrumptious," Ron added. "The bacon was crispy, the toast was just right...and the rose was a nice touch!"

Melanie smiled impishly at Ron. "Okay, what the hell," she said. "The little queer has earned a taste!"

I yelped as I suddenly felt Mel's hand grab my hair by the roots. She swung her leg across my body and guided my face to her sticky vagina. "Wake up, Davy! It's Jello Pudding time!" she sang as I began softly licking the globs of semen from her battered pussy. "Taste the freshness, Davy! That's one hundred percent protein you're suckin' on down there! Thank Ron for letting you lick it out of me! Don't be so fucking rude to our guest, Davy!" she hissed as she reached down and slapped me hard across my eye.

I felt like my throat was full of sandpaper, but I knew I had no choice. "T-thank y-you, sir...for letting me...lick your cum out of...Mistress Melanie's...vagina."

Ron said nothing as he relaxed on the pillows with his eyes closed and a dreamy smile on his lips. He reached down and tenderly patted me on the head.

I slowly lowered my head back to my wife's sloppy pussy. Her tattoo was staring me right in the face. Earlier this summer, Ron talked Melanie into getting a tattoo: a little red heart on her upper thigh, just above the bikini line, with the word, "Animal" engraved in tiny, florid letters. She's talking about getting another one done on her ass; maybe Ron's initials, she said.

That would be the clincher: my wife running around with another man's initials tattooed on her ass! Unfortunately, I think she's serious about having it done.

After I licked Melanie's pussy clean, I was sent off to go run a hot shower. Then, as they enjoyed a long, hot, leisurely shower together, I scurried around making the bed and straightening up the bedroom. Then I gathered up the dirty sheets and took them downstairs to be washed...

* * *

Nothing yet. For a second, I thought I saw them come out, but it was another couple. My leg is starting to cramp from sitting in the car for so long, and my foot is falling asleep. I'm afraid to get out and walk around, because the last thing Mel told me was to "stay there."

I don't know if she meant for me to literally sit in the same spot...but I'm not about to take any chances!

I know it sounds crazy, but I need these chains. Please don't hate me because I am weak. Have mercy on a broken man's soul.



DON'T BE A DWEE...STAY TUNED FOR PART THREE!!!