Authors: Ben Boswell
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
© 2016 by Ben Boswell
Cover image © istockphoto/getty
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without explicit written permission of the copyright holder.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
This preface will be short and dirty, like the story you’re about to read. This is a straight cuckold story, with a harder edge than I usually do. If you’re not into cuckold stories, please look elsewhere.
My wife Becky and I live a pretty white-bread life. We met as undergrads at the University of Maryland, and got married two years after graduation. Becky is an events coordinator for a brokerage firm, and I work as a paralegal in Baltimore. We live in a small, starter home in the suburbs with our two dogs. We go on vacations once a year at my parent's lake house, but for the most part our lives are very routine: work, dinner in front of the TV, walking with the dogs, going out to an occasional dinner and movie.
Our neighborhood is starting to change. Developers bought the lot which adjoins our backyard. At first, we were upset that we were losing the woods behind our house, but when we saw they were putting up 600K+ houses back there, we got pretty psyched about the effects on our property values.
One day after the houses were complete, we saw some activity in the house right behind ours. We peered over the fence to get a glimpse at our new neighbors. They were older than us. Becky and I are 26 and 27 respectively, and our new neighbors seemed at least a few years older. The man was probably close to 40, distinguished, well-dressed, with dark hair graying at the temples. The woman was tall, slim and exotic. She seemed like she was part-Asian and part-Hispanic, although she was relatively fair skinned. They were almost our opposites in that regard. Becky looks younger than she is; when we go to Maryland games she could easily pass for one of the blonde sorority girls we see tailgating in the parking lot. Aside from a few extra pounds and a little less hair, I could be one of the frat guys partying with them. Not that that is all that surprising. That is who we were just a few years ago.
Our new neighbors saw us looking into their yard and introduced themselves as Don and Anita.
Don was a lawyer, and when I told him I was a paralegal, he offered to talk to me about making a career in the law. Anita and Becky seemed to hit it off too. Even up close, Anita was a bit of a mystery. She could have been anywhere from 30 to 40, but she had a sophisticated air about her that clearly left Becky both intimidated and intrigued. After a few more pleasantries, they excused themselves and went back to supervising the movers who were unloading a lot of expensive-looking possessions.
"They seem nice," I said as they got out of earshot.
“Yeah, definitely," Becky replied.
The next day, I was mowing the lawn, when Don walked over to the fence.
"Hey, Jeff," he called out.
I killed the motor and approached him.
"How's the move going?"
"We've got a thousand boxes to unpack. But we love the house so far."
"Great, we'd love to see it sometime. Let me know if you need any help with anything."
"Thanks," Don replied. "Actually, I was going to invite you up to the house for drinks once we got settled in, but if you do have some time later this afternoon, I need a little help moving some things. Would you be willing to give me a hand? We can order some Chinese food, have a couple of beers, and get to know each other."
"Sure, sounds good. I'll check to see if Becky had any plans, but unless you hear different, why don't we plan to come over around four?"
"Great, see you then," he said with a smile.
I went back to mowing the lawn.
That afternoon, Becky and I went over. While Don and I moved some furniture, Becky and Anita unpacked their kitchen. When the food arrived, we sat down in their breakfast nook and had dinner.
Anita and Don were full of stories. They had travelled all over the world. Don was a litigator and had lots of great war stories. Anita had this dry wit, and she kept us in stitches with her asides and observations. She also had this little twinkle in her eyes that I found very alluring, and I could not help checking her out as she walked around the kitchen in her tight jeans. Even that first night, I realized I was becoming somewhat infatuated with her, though I knew I’d never have the guts to do anything about it.
Becky and I spent more and more time with Don and Anita. They added a big, beautiful deck onto their house, and when the next spring came, they added a full-sized, in-ground pool in their backyard. Their house became the
social center of the neighborhood, and it seemed like we spent most of the summer on their deck or around their pool, sipping mixed drinks (Don made a killer Margarita), and mingling with their friends who all seemed as sophisticated and interesting as they were.
As much fun as we were having, I realized I was getting more and more obsessed with Anita. It wasn't anything obvious and lurid, but rather I thought about her more often, and fantasized about her on a regular basis when I made love to Becky. I never said a word to anyone, of course. I liked Don too much to do anything to hurt him, and I loved Becky too much to risk losing her. But often, I'd just think about Anita. That long black hair, those almond-shaped, black-violet eyes, her long, lean body and legs.
In August, there was a fire in my building at work. The sprinklers had gone off, soaking the place, and they had to close the place down temporarily as they did damage assessment and cleaned up the mess. For two weeks I had nothing to do but lounge around the house. Becky and I thought about taking a vacation, but she was planning a big conference for the end of the month, and could not take any time off.
When we told Anita and Don about my situation, they told me to feel free to come over to their house during the day and use the pool. Anita didn't work full-time; she was an interior designer and only worked sporadically when an interesting client came along. I felt awkward about going to their house when they were not in, and even more awkward about being with Anita alone, so I thanked them for their offer while not planning to take them up on it.
My resolve lasted all of two days. We got hit by a vicious heat wave, and I was bored, bored, bored. One day, after I'd done all the household chores I could think of, I peered into their yard. Both of their cars were gone, the house was quiet, and their pool was beckoning me to take a swim. I gave in and went over.
The water was cool and clear, and I sort of lost track of time. One minute I was splashing around by myself, the next I heard their patio door slam and saw Anita walking toward me wearing a bikini and carrying two frozen margaritas. Her bikini was tiny and suggestive, but Anita had lived in Spain and France, and she could not imagine wearing a dowdy one-piece, or even a conservative two-piece. Indeed, she once told us that even wearing a top sometimes felt oppressive to her. I got out of the water and started to make excuses. But Anita just dismissed them and told me to make myself at home.
I felt like I should leave, but I didn't want to seem rude, and Anita and Don had both invited me to come over and use their pool whenever I wanted. I started to relax, and joined Anita on the deck for a drink.
We spent most of the afternoon together. I went back to my house to get a book, and then read on their deck with her. I don't know if it was the sun or the booze (we had another couple of margaritas each), but Anita was definitely flirtier than usual. She even asked me to put some sunscreen on her back, and as I did, she reached back and undid her bikini top so that she would not have a tan line on her back. Her body was very warm to the touch, and as I rubbed her, she squirmed ever so slightly. I could feel myself getting an erection, and I had the distinct feeling that if I made a pass at her, she'd have responded enthusiastically.
Frankly, the sexual tension scared me. After a couple of minutes, I made some sort of excuse and started to go back to my house.
As I got up, Anita sat up, an arm draped across her pert breasts, and she said, "Jeff, thanks for coming over. I get so bored sometimes." She paused and then added, "it's going to be another hot day tomorrow, come by for another swim."
Back in my house, I peered across the yard at Anita still sunning herself on her deck. I was slowly, unconsciously, rubbing my now fully-erect cock. Like a man possessed, I shoved my hand down the front of my shorts, and stroked myself once, twice, three times, before I came all over myself. I immediately felt horribly embarrassed. I showered, cleaned myself off, and took a nap before Becky came home.
The next day, I was determined to stay away from Anita and Don's house. But it was so hot, and around 1:00pm, Anita actually called and invited me over. I wanted to go, and I didn't have any good excuse, so I accepted her offer. Again, Anita seemed to be toying with me, getting me all hot and bothered. I wondered if she was deliberately tormenting me, or whether I was making things up. Again, she asked me to put sunscreen on her back. This time she was wearing tiny little thong bottoms, and as I sat beside her, she was effectively naked from the back. She also kept leaning over me, letting me smell her scent, a potent cocktail of coconut sunscreen, perfume, and sweat.
Again, I found an excuse to escape. This time I rushed to the bathroom, and deliberately jerked myself off while her scent was still in my nostrils.
That night, Don called. Becky picked up, and I heard her agreeing to something. When she hung up, she told me that Don and Anita wanted us to come over for dinner Saturday, and that she had accepted.
The next morning, I got called into the office. They had finally gotten around to my cubicle and wanted me there to identify papers and things. I breathed a sigh of relief that I would not be subjected to any more of Anita's teasing, all the while feeling disappointment like a pit in my stomach.
On Saturday, we walked over to their house with a bottle of wine. Anita prepared a delicious meal -- caramelized shrimp, bell pepper risotto, and tiramisu for dessert. We drank a couple of margaritas to start, two bottles of wine during dinner, and brandy with dessert. Needless to say, we were all pretty buzzed.
It had cooled down nicely, and after we put away the dishes, Don suggested we go sit in the hot tub for a while and finish our brandies.
"We don't have swim suits," I protested.
"Well, it's not like you live across town," Don replied with a grin.
"Okay, I'll get ours," I replied.
"Wait," said Anita looking at Becky. "I just bought a new bikini, but it's a little big for me, but it should be perfect for you," she said.
Becky frowned, and it occurred to me that she thought Anita had just called her fat.
"Oh no, silly duckie," Anita said quickly as she realized what she had said. "It’s just a little loose for me up here," she continued, bringing her hand up to her chest.
Becky smiled, and Anita took her by the hand upstairs to try on the suit.
"I have an extra one too, if you don't want to have to go back to your place," Don said.
"That's okay, I want to check on the dogs anyway."
I went back to the house and gave the dogs some more food, and changed into my own swim trunks. I walked back over to Don and Anita's. Don was already in the hot tub, and as I climbed in he passed me a refilled brandy.
We shot the shit for a while, and waited for the girls to join us. Finally, after an inordinate amount of time, they did. I don't know if it was the booze, or what, but they both looked stunning. Anita was her usual, lithe exotic self, but Becky looked especially hot. It took me a couple of seconds to realize it was the swimsuit. Becky wears bikinis, of course, but nothing like this one. Anita had her decked out in a neon yellow bikini. The bottom was a tiny thong, and the top was a strapless band that barely contained Becky's 36-C breasts. With her blond hair, and blue eyes, she looked like an Instagram hottie.
"Sorry to take so long," Anita began. "We had to do a little waxing to make it look right," she said with a grin.
Becky turned three shades of red, and playfully slapped at Anita's arm. "Bitch," she giggled.
We sat in the water talking. Every once in a while, one of us would jump into the pool and cool down, or sit on the deck with their feet in the tub. Don got up at one point and brought the entire bottle of brandy down to the deck and refilled all our glasses.
We had gotten to know Don and Anita pretty well, but most of our conversations had been about neutral topics: vacations, houses, work, and so on. That night, lubricated by the booze, we started to get more personal, and as the evening wore on the conversation turned more and more to sex. Don and Anita hinted about all sort of unconventional activities, and they had a good laugh telling us about how they joined the Mile High Club on a trip to Hawaii. I was getting a little uncomfortable, because I wondered if in this setting, Anita might not let something slip about how touchy-feely and flirty the two of us had been all week.
I also wondered if she had told Don, and I started watching him closely to see if he seemed suspicious or upset. Instead of that, though, I noticed for the first time how much attention he paid to Becky. For the past several months, I'd always been so focused on Anita, that it never occurred to me that Don might be interested in Becky. Then I started to get suspicious. Yeah, sure, I'd rubbed suntan lotion on Anita's naked back, but for the past month or so, Don and Becky had been going for long bike rides on the weekend (I can't because of a bad knee). I wondered if something was going on there.
By the time I focused back on the conversation, it had taken a turn.
"What is the most unusual thing you've done?" Becky asked.
Don and Anita smiled at each other for a moment, and finally Don nodded.
"Well," Anita said was a leer, "we've done some threesomes."
"What?!" Becky sputtered incredulously.
"Oh don't be so shocked," Anita said, "a lot of people do it."
"Really?" Becky asked. And then after a pause, "who with?"
"We've done it with a lot of people. Mostly men, some women and couples," she replied. "Don likes to watch."
"I could never do that," Becky said to me, glancing at me for confirmation, or was it to ask permission?
"No, neither could I," I jumped in, too loud.
Don grinned. "Don't bash it 'til you try it." He turned to address Becky. "You love Jeff, right?"
"Of course!" Becky said. "That's why I couldn't do it."
"Wait a second, hear me out," Don said softly. He voice was mellow, calming, oddly seductive. "Okay, you love Jeff, right?" She nodded. "So you like to see him happy." Again she nodded. "Do you like to watch him when you are making love, when he comes?"
Becky turned beet red.
"I think that's enough," I said tartly, "maybe we should go home."
"Oh lighten up," Don said, pouring me a little more brandy. He said it with a combination of condescension and humor that put me on the defensive.
"Well, do you?" he asked Becky again.
"Yes," she answered barely above a whisper.
"Well, then you know what it’s like. But imagine that you get to see everything, and you get to focus on it all because you are standing aside. There is nothing I like better than seeing Anita having a climax. I love watching it. It is the hottest thing I know."
Becky shook her head incredulously, but she was also obviously curious. "Doesn't it make you jealous?"
"A little," he replied, "but that is part of the excitement, and when you really love someone, and know they love you, you know there is no real risk."
"Wow," Becky said softly. "That’s crazy." She fanned her face. There was a lull in the conversation and then she added, "It's hot in here, I'm going for a swim."
She quickly stood up, her erect nipples poking through the material of her bikini top, and dove into the pool. A few moments later, Don got up and jumped into the pool as well. I was about to join them when I noticed Anita climb up onto the deck and dangling her feet into the water. Her legs were spread apart, and she was absentmindedly caressing the inside of her thighs.
"What is going on?" I asked her.
She smiled lewdly. "Don wants to watch you make love to me, and he is trying to convince Becky that it's okay."
"But it is not okay..."
"Don't you want me?" she asked. "That bulge in your shorts the last couple of times you came by the pool makes me think that maybe you do."
"You’re a very exciting woman, but I don't do that sort of thing."
"No one does that sort of thing, until they do it." Her hand was now between her legs, and she was tracing little circles over her pussy. Despite my best efforts, I could not tear my eyes off her.
"Come here," she said.
I looked over at the pool. Becky and Don were at the far end, standing close together, talking. Becky's eyes were closed and she was seemingly unconsciously caressing her stomach.
"What's going on?" I said pointing at them.
"Don't worry. Don's just having Becky imagine watching us, and from the look of her, she seems to like the idea. Did you know women could be voyeurs too? You saw the way she responded when we mentioned it earlier."
I swallowed hard.
"Let's give them a treat, I can see it in her eyes. She likes to watch," Anita cooed, holding her hand out to me.
An uncontrollable impulse seized me, and I got up and approached her. Before I knew it, I was standing between her legs and we were kissing passionately. I pulled off her top, and kissed and sucked her small hard nipples, making her moan in delight. She reached down into my shorts and slowly started stroking my hard, pulsing cock.
I pulled aside the fabric of her bottoms, and quickly pressed two fingers into her steaming, wet pussy. I could smell her excitement, and my fingers made a loud squishing sound as I pumped them in and out.
I was so completely mesmerized that I didn't notice Becky approach until she was only a couple of feet away. She had a strange look on her face, anger, jealousy, and unmistakable arousal. She had her hand down between her legs and was rubbing her clit wildly. As we locked eyes, I felt Anita lean forward, pull my shorts down, and swallow my cock deep into her mouth.
"Oh God," I moaned.
"Oh God," my wife echoed as her body shook in an obvious orgasm. Becky's legs gave out, and she dropped to her knees on the deck. At the same time, Anita released my cock from her mouth, leaned back, and said, "fuck me."
I looked down to see Anita spread before me. She'd pulled off her bikini bottoms, and her shaved pussy was open and throbbing with excitement. I glanced over at Becky for just a moment. Her eyes were glassy, nipples hard, and mouth slightly opened, and then my eyes went to Anita waiting for me.
Without another thought, I stepped forward. Anita grabbed my cock and guided it home. I buried myself balls-deep on the first stroke.
She gasped softly, and then said, "Now fuck me."
I didn't need any more encouragement. Like a man possessed I screwed her with deep, hard strokes. Becky leaned forward, now on her hands and knees and from less than two feet away watched my cock piston into our neighbor.
Anita's pussy was incredibly hot and wet. She was so excited that I slid in and out with barely any friction. She was bucking her hips, but she also kept looking over at Becky, as if she were more interested in my wife’s reaction than my efforts.
"Oh yeah baby, do it," she hissed, “you know you want it.” Was she speaking to me on Becky? Still, all of that was just beyond my consciousness, and all I could think of was how long I'd waited for this.
In fact, I was so excited that after less than thirty seconds, I felt a familiar tingle. I tried to slow down, but I was already too far gone. I came hard, spurt after spurt draining into Anita's sloppy hole.
When she realized I'd come, she said, "Oh that was so good," but I could tell she was disappointed. I know I was. Still, I figured I’d make it up to her next time.
I didn't have time to focus further on Anita's reaction though because just as I was finishing up, I noticed Don coming up behind Becky. I looked over to see him rubbing her hard ass with one hand while he slid two fingers under her thong. I watched in shock as he pressed his digits into Becky's snatch. He pulled down his own trunks.
"Hey!" I finally managed to blurt out. This wasn’t part of the deal.
Anita reached up and put a finger on my lips. "What's good for the goose, baby."
I turned to look at her for a second. She was smiling lecherously, suddenly looking older and less attractive than I'd remembered. By the time I turned back to look at Don and Becky, he had his cock out and was rubbing it against my wife's pussy. He was huge. For a moment, I though the light was playing tricks on me, but then as I looked closer, I saw it was all him. His cock must have been nine or ten inches long and as thick as a beer bottle.
As I watched, paralyzed, he pressed that thick slab of meat into my wife’s pussy. It was slow going, and I could see that he had to press hard to push that big cock into her tight hole. But finally, he had it all the way in.
Shockingly, Becky started bucking and moaning as he hit bottom.
"Oh God," she said softly. And then turning to him, "Oh fucking God!" she hissed, her voice cracking.
"Yeah baby, cum on my cock," he croaked out, as my wife shuddered in orgasm.
He gave her a couple of seconds to adjust to his girth, and then he started fucking her slowly. Becky was moaning softly, continuously, only punctuated by a sharp little gasp each time he hit bottom. She looked up at me, but she was really looking right through me. Her eyes were glassy, her dilated pupils looks like big, black saucers crowding out the blue of her eyes.
"He's going to fuck her good," Anita noted, cutting through the fog in my brain.
I looked down at Anita.
Bitch, whore, witch,
my mind screamed.
Her legs were still spread, and I could see a thin line of my come dripping down from her pussy. I looked down to see my cock, spent, shriveled, pitiful compared that that thick, bruising tool Don was using on my wife.
Suddenly I was sick to my stomach. The booze, the excitement, the anguish, and the jealously all hit me like a brick. I stumbled over to the side of the deck and puked up all the booze and that gourmet meal into their rose bushes, until my stomach was empty but still trying to empty itself further.
As the last of the dry heaves subsided, I looked back over at them. Don was still boning my wife, a little faster now, but still a long, controlled fuck. Anita was kneeling in front of Becky. She had unhooked Becky's top, and was kneading my wife's big, beautiful breasts. Becky looked up and Anita kissed her wetly. Becky returned the kiss passionately. I looked back to Don, grinning broadly as he watched the two women deep kiss while he continued plumbing the depths of my wife's cunt.