This is the third chapter of “I Make Believe I’m a Cuckold.” You should read those first.
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Wednesday morning after breakfast Nancy and I went to the Field Office for the second day of our four-day assessment visit. Neither one of us was too surprised to learn that Paul Terkin, the Deputy Manager, had phoned in sick. Paul had spent the entire night at our hotel having sex first with me, then with Nancy. The guy must be exhausted, I thought.
The day passed quickly with me and Nancy sometimes working separately and at other times together. Mid-day the Office Manager took us to an uneventful lunch at a nice Thai restaurant around the corner.
Early mid-afternoon Nancy said: “I’m about to send a text message to your wife. You’re getting a copy, but don’t join the conversation. You’ll see what I send and her reply; just don’t jump in.” Then she pressed send on her phone and mine chirped almost immediately.
I was stunned when I read it: it was complete fiction about a pipe bursting in her suite and the hotel lacking any vacancy into which they could move her. The hotel offered her a discounted standard room at a sister property across town, which wouldn’t be as nice and would be quite inconvenient. Nancy’s text told Sally that I had gallantly offered to take the bullet, give Nancy my suite, and relocate to the down-scale hotel. She hesitated to accept – I was her superior after all – so she asked Sally for permission to sleep on the fold-out convertible sofa in the living room of my suite. She ended with, “It won’t be very different from having separate rooms in a regular hotel.”
I knew the ladies had been acquaintances for a long time and got along well, but I looked up at Nancy with surprise and confusion.
Sally replied within a minute. She thanked Nancy for being concerned about my comfort, had no objections at all to our sharing a suite, and said: “If my better half wants to be gallant, he should take the sofa bed and let the lady have the bedroom.”
“Tell her it’s all set then,” Nancy snapped at me, so I texted accordingly to my wife.
“Thanks for being so understanding, darling. Nancy really wanted to stay in the same hotel. FaceTime tonight? XOXO”
Of course all this blather about the sofa bed was nonsense. Nancy and I had already shared the bedroom and its two queen-size beds and would continue to do so.
***
Early that evening, before dinner, back in “our room,” Nancy was distracted, looking down at her phone as I went into the sitting room to FaceTime my wife. I closed the door behind me so that we would both have some privacy. Even through the door, I could hear Nancy’s phone beep as she texted back and forth, or did Twitter, or whatever.
Sally and I chatted about our day’s activities. My day had been pretty boring, and I noticed my wife was splitting her attention between me, on the iPad on her bedroom dresser, and her phone. What *is* it with people and their cellphones these days? Too many texts and too little human interaction if you ask me. My wife spent way too much time on social media. Every two or three minutes I could hear her phone beep, and she’d break eye contact with me and text something to a friend. Multi-tasking; I’d never gotten the hang of it.
I heard Nancy knock on the bedroom door and excuse herself. She came through the sitting room and headed out the door. “I gotta run to CVS to get some toiletries, Don. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
As I ran out of things to talk about my wife said: “Before we go to bed, honey, please wear my nightgown again. Show me how much you miss me? I heard Nancy leave so you’re all alone now.”
“Angel,” I said, “I feel kind of funny in ladies’ underwear.”
“Aw, baby, do it for ‘mommy’, OK? Show me how much I mean to you? And you are all alone… Hurry, it’s hours later here on the East Coast. I’m ready to get in bed.”
I set my iPad into the easel stand and backed away a couple of feet to get my whole torso on camera. Then, one more time, I checked that the bedroom was empty. Satisfied I was alone, I pulled Sally’s negligee over my head.
“Not like that, Goofy. I told you last night you have to take your clothes off first.”
I stripped naked and replaced the nightgown over my head.
“OK, turn around a few times,” Sally instructed. “Now stand sideways. Show me the backside for a second. I’ve never told you this before, darling, but your tushie is pretty nice. OK, twirl back to the front.” I pirouetted and followed my wife’s instructions while she murmured constant encouragement and appreciation.
“You look so nice, darling. I love it that you love me this much.”
I heard laughter from Sally’s end and stood still, staring at the screen.
“It’s the TV again, honey. I’m so forgetful; I meant to switch it off.” urfa escort She looked towards the side of the room, her eyes furious with herself. “I’ll turn it down.” She ducked off-camera for a minute and then came back. “OK, honey, we won’t hear him again. I muted the volume.”
I was facing the tablet, my erection pointing up in the air proudly behind the silky material. Five inches of powerful dick. The nightie tickled the end of my penis when the fabric moved, and that made me even harder.
“Wow, you’re happy, too, aren’t you honey? Look how big and strong Little Donny is! Next time, I have to give you a pair of panties to go with it, right?”
“If you want, Honey. I’ve never worn girls’ underwear except this nightgown. I don’t know if it would feel comfortable.”
“Hey, I have an idea. Take the iPad and go into the bedroom. Find a pair of Nancy’s panties. Her suitcase is probably open, or she may have unpacked into a dresser. Borrow a pair for a few minutes. We can put them back soon.”
I tried to get out of it, but in fact, I knew exactly where all Nancy’s clothes are because we’re actually sharing the same bedroom. Sally had guessed correctly. Nancy was indeed one of those travelers who unpacked.
“Go. Now. She won’t be back for at least half an hour.”
Only because I actually wanted to do this I let my wife think she had persuaded me. I set the tablet and its stand on the bedroom dresser.
The pair Nancy had worn all day was on top of her open suitcase. I quickly decided those would be safer to play with than a clean pair from the dresser if I hoped to put them back where I’d found them after a few minutes. They were already crumpled up and she’d never notice that I’d briefly worn them.
I heard my wife’s voice from the iPad: “Bring them over here. I want to watch you put them on, slow and sexy.”
I hustled back to the dresser and held them up in front of the camera for Sally’s approval. “They’re wet,” I told my wife.
“Smell them. Tell me what they smell like.”
I held the crotch up to my face and inhaled. The primitive scent of a hot wet cunt shot through my nasal passages. I sniffed again and then said, “They smell like her hole, Sweetheart. No cum smell. A little musky. Your hole smells so sweet when I kiss you down there, and these panties smell much more pungent.”
I kept sniffing a few more times, and then lifted a leg to slip into them. Once I had pulled them halfway I vamped and wiggled as I drew Nancy’s “boy pants” the rest of the way up my thighs and fit the soft material around my penis and scrotum. Jesus, they actually felt wonderful. My cock throbbed and twitched in their new damp home.
“Rub yourself, honey. Rub the front of your panties and make your penis shoot. It never takes you very long, does it baby? Rub a load out for me to show me how much you miss me.”
I looked down at the small bulge in Nancy’s panties formed by my genitals. I was close. I could tell because I got a very warm feeling and my breath got short. I was panting and rubbing, and I looked up at the tablet to make eye contact with my wife.
At that moment she was actually, what the hell? Actually looking at her phone! I said, “Honey, I’m going to shoot any second now.”
She pressed a button on her phone and said “Hold on, Don. Hold it as long as you can. Think about me all lonely here in bed. You’re doing this for me, not for you. Don’t ejaculate until I say so. Pump your penis for me but no squirting yet.”
I heard a nearby phone chime and a second later Nancy came in the door from the sitting room! I groaned and turned away from the doorway as if I could hide from her. Of course, she had seen me naked several times, but my wife didn’t know that.
“Nancy – you’re back just in time. Your boss is going to show you how much he misses me. He borrowed your dirty panties just like we planned and he’s wearing the nightgown I gave him.”
I couldn’t get my thoughts straight in my head. Nothing made sense.
Sally knew that I was almost naked with Nancy and didn’t care? Nancy knew I was being humiliated by my wife and was going to join? The two of them had somehow set this up in advance? Nancy’s panties had been some sort of trap?
You’ve probably had moments like this in your own life when too many things that don’t make sense all bang into your brain at once and you just sort of spin wildly from one confusion to another. Thoughts start but don’t finish before a different thought interrupts. I stood there like a fool, spinning my head from the FaceTime screen to my co-worker and back again. My penis, hard as a rock a moment before, deflated like a flat tire. I looked at it nesting in Nancy’s moist panties as if I’d never seen panties before. Like most interrupted erections, my limp dick was drooling lots of pre-cum.
Nancy came close to me and turned me gently back to the screen. “Isn’t he beautiful, Sally? Your husband makes such a pretty girl I think.”
As sometimes happens when I concentrate balıkesir escort too hard on something for too long, I’d forgotten to swallow. I felt a wet spot on my chest when I drooled a little.
We stood in front of the tablet and Nancy embraced me from behind, gently touching my penis in her delicate panties. My wife told Nancy that I loved having my nipples caressed, so she raised her hands to my manboobs and started working over my tits and little nipples. I felt the blood rushing back into my confused cock.
With Nancy holding me tight in her arms and stroking my breasts and crotch, I surrendered to the sensations. I let go for now and enjoyed what the two women in my life were doing to me. Maybe later I could make sense out of everything. Later I could imagine my new life as their toy. Maybe later, not now. Not with my nipples as hard as little rocks. Not with electricity shooting from my ball sack to my boobs and back. Not with the light material of the ladies’ negligee swishing back and forth over the head of my granite-hard little penis.
Sally kept cheer-leading, saying mean things about my poor performance as a man. How I was “better at licking my hole than real sex”. Saying that I became a girly sissy-boy when my tits were groped. Accusing me of being sexually manipulated by a female subordinate.
Nancy defended me, sort of, saying that I just couldn’t say no to sexy underthings and that I only wanted a strong partner to play with. She said I was “very sexy” and that I “really enjoyed sex if it was done the right way.” She said she was sure I would enjoy sex with any of my colleagues, male or female, if the opportunity arose. Sally replied, “I’ll make sure of that.”
I was no longer able to tell the difference between when they were having a real conversation, and when they were reading a script to each other to manipulate me.
Nancy moved to my side and while one hand rubbed the front of her panties the other hand reached inside to fondle my ass. Moving both hands up and down, she slid the panties down slowly as her right hand slid between my cheeks to finger my anus. With her palm open on my ass cheeks, she curled her middle finger into my ring up to the first knuckle, which is to say she barely entered my asshole at all. Her touch made me thrust slightly forward, away from her finger, but that just increased the pressure on my cock.
“We’re going to turn around now, Sally, so you can see what Donny really likes.”
She gently twisted me into the reverse position, so that I faced the bed and my butt faced the iPad. Nancy pushed me forward over the mattress and used both her hands to push my shoulders down. This bent me more than 90 degrees and my ass stuck up in the air in front of the iPad.
“Don’t fucking move,” Nancy snarled at me as she let go. “Sally, if your sissy husband moves an inch let me know, OK?”
She went quickly across the room to the bedside table. Taking some items out of the drawer she returned to me, faced the tablet, and said: “Wait until you see your husband in action now, Sally.”
Lubing her fingers with KY she started to gently finger-fuck my bottom.
“When I find his prostate he’ll wiggle his boy pussy like an excited doggie.”
I felt her finger, then two of them, twisting my sphincter open. She added more lubrication and began to plunge her two fingers harder, faster, and deeper, and I found myself rising up on my tiptoes in shameless delight. And although I tried not to, I wiggled, just like Nancy predicted.
“Now the vibe, Nancy,” Sally ordered.
Nancy very slowly inserted the lubed plastic vibrator into my rectum and began pumping just the front third of it in and out of me. As pleasant as the feeling was, I couldn’t stop my body from trying to move forward, resisting the insertions. This brought my crotch into contact with the edge of the mattress, which I began to hump like a horny puppy.
Nancy adjusted our two bodies so that my wife could see my degradation in the video window. Holding my hip firmly with her left hand, she placed the base of the vibe against her mons pubis with her right hand and started to fuck me by thrusting her pelvis forward and back. If it wasn’t for the hand holding the vibe, you would have thought she was fucking me herself.
The feeling of my cock rubbing and thrusting, combined with the exquisite delight of having my rectum reamed by Nancy’s “penis,” brought me to the edge of climax in a few minutes. Unlike Paul’s cock the night before, each time my sphincter muscle tried to clench it met hard unyielding plastic. When my ass squeezed Paul’s real penis there was warmth, and give. It felt like my rectum and anus were chewing on Paul’s firm but supple cock shaft, nibbling a treat.
Clamping down on this cold plastic vibrator it almost felt like the cock was fighting back. But for some reason, even though the sensations were less intimate, I couldn’t stop myself from fighting the plastic. I squeezed and lost as it refused to trabzon escort yield. Then I squeezed again. My anus and rectum felt as if the vibrator was somehow defeating us. The three of us working together – me, my anus, and my rectum – could change the shape of a marauding penis, but not this damned vibrator. It mastered us.
“He won’t last much longer, Sally. Where do you want him to squirt?”
“Shit, I don’t know. Reach under and catch it in your left hand. Then make the faggot eat his own load.”
Just hearing those words set me off, and Nancy barely had time to get her left hand in place before my worthless little balls exploded and my prostate gland gave up their juice. When Nancy put the hand cupping my load in front of my face, I lapped my cum slowly out of her palm.
My wife watched it all with a smile on her face.
“Sally, did you see that? Oh my God, he dumped a pretty good load, too,” Nancy said.
“Yes, thanks. Your timing was perfect. I always make Donny clean up his own mess. Give him a minute or two, and then make him eat your pussy. Looks like you don’t shave. That’s the hairiest bush I’ve ever seen. I’m smooth as a baby, myself. Most of the men I know prefer it that way. Donny’s mouth is his best part; make him lick you out good. But first, bring him closer to the camera. I want to see his face all glazed with his own jizz.”
Shocked, shattered really, I couldn’t resist as my co-worker pulled me by my soaking wet cock towards my wife’s face on my iPad. Her right hand still held the dildo inside me.
“Oh, Donny, somebody is a very bad boy and is going to get a big punishment when he gets home. Now you just listen to Nancy from now on, you hear me? I’m putting Nancy in charge of you for the rest of your trip. She should spank you when you’re a bad boy. You’re pathetic, you know that, don’t you? You’re a sorry lame-ass excuse for a man. I’m going to think about what to do with you from here forward. Things are going to change around my house, that’s for sure.”
“Nancy, you make Don behave himself from now on, you hear? Belt his ass if you need to. He’s all yours for the next few days. Keep sending me those text reports and photos, OK? “
“You mean like the one this morning? Of his wrecked butthole leaking semen?”
“That was *awesome*, Nancy! I’m going to make that the new lock screen wallpaper on my phone. Get his face right in front of the iPad now so I can blow my little boy a nightie-night kiss while he’s still wearing my nightie.”
Nancy shuffled me a few inches closer by thrusting her vibe into my ass. Then she withdrew it entirely and touched it to my lips. “Look, Sally, he’s going to kiss my cock goodnight now, too.”
I did.
I my wife groan and blurt out “You dirty cock sucking pig. Are you licking your ass off of Nancy’s dildo? Damn, you’re disgusting. Stay in Seattle, you sick fag. I’ll never kiss *that* mouth again, I can tell you that right now.”
And then I heard that sound again, of male laughter coming from the iPad. I guess Sally had already unmuted the TV.
***
What came next was in some ways quite remarkable, even compared to being pegged to orgasm in front of my prudish, conservative wife: Nancy and I took a shower together.
While we had crossed the line from co-workers to sex partners, there hadn’t really been much intimacy between us. In fact, we rarely ever spent time alone with each other except for meals in restaurants. But there we were in that big hotel shower, gently washing each other and even touching, kissing, and making out.
In the beginning, we had barely been attracted to each other. I found her a bit slutty; well, no, all-out slutty, and she thought I was a prissy snob. We each carried 10 or 20 more pounds than the other would find attractive in a member of the opposite sex.
But our shared sexual escapades, despite lacking any tenderness between the two of us, had brought down the barriers between us. As I gently soaped and rinsed her body, and she mine, I think we became closer than we ever had previously.
While I had always been a “Low-T” husband who left my wife unsatisfied, she had taken it out on me in other ways that made love difficult. Sally had always been not just cool to me, and usually cruel, but often noticeable hostile. Even on the rare occasions that we tried something sexual at home, it invariably ended up with Sally insulting me and making me feel not just insufficient, but unlovable and unworthy of her.
Nancy, on the other hand, was a warm passionate woman. Too passionate, which is how our relationship came to include sexual activities in the first place. Our few sexual activities, while reinforcing my beta-male stature, were at the same time pleasant and satisfying for her. She now saw the real man, or boy, behind the pompous “senior manager” facade with which I strutted around the office. I wasn’t her ideal man, but I was likable. And Nancy, divorced, needed someone to like if she couldn’t find someone to love.
So there we stood in that shower, naked, wet, and sometimes soapy, touching each other gently, and each trying to get in touch with the real person inside the other. I don’t think either one of us was comfortable with these new feelings we were having. I gently washed Nancy’s furry crotch and her large breasts, and she gently soaped and stroked my limp penis.