I’ve been writing XXX stories that have been posted on the Internet for many years, and of the dozens I’ve written, “Cuckold Lesson,” which I posted here today, has received more reader comments than any other. One of the most-common questions I get from readers who have enjoyed that particular story usually goes something like, “Just how real is this story?”

Well, as I’ve told those folks, “Cuckold Lessons” has a factual basis. The first two chapters are based closely on what actually happened when I cuckolded my husband for the very-first time, and in fact, what happened when I came home after fucking our neighbor is derived almost 100% from our actual experiences.

What is described in the story after those early chapters, is, as my readers already know, entirely fiction.

Another question that many readers have asked goes something like, “What made you choose your neighbor as your lover?”

And that’s the purpose of this short story. It should answer that question for all time, because it is just as accurate as I can write it from memory, ten years after these events happened.

WARNING: This story contains descriptions of what three horny people did when they were not only having sex, but actually enjoying it. If that sort of thing offends you, read no further.

THE PREQUEL

My husband and I had been talking seriously for a long time about me cuckolding him, and by the time we’d been married for three years, I decided it was time for all his fantasies to be made real. I’d known for a long time, actually since before we were married, that Glenn was fascinated by the subject of cuckoldry. The most sure-fire way to get him all hot and bothered was to tell him I’d seen a man that day who really turned me on, and I was wondering how it would be to let him make love to me.

Glenn would always encourage me to “experiment,” as he put it, because he was sure other men would be better lovers than he was. I would tease him about other guys having bigger dicks than his, and how they’d probably get me so stretched out that he’d never again be able to feel anything when we had sex. That part wasn’t true, of course, since his organ was by far the largest I’d ever had, and that was based on my seven long-term lovers, plus countless short-termers, as well as one-night stands.

The truth of that didn’t matter at all to my poor husband, and as I fondled him and described how good it would be to be “fucked by a real man,” he’d get so turned on that he could barely breathe. There was no question at all that his imagination was consumed by the idea of “wearing the horns,” as people used to say. So, at last I made the decision that it needed to happen.

The man who lived next door to us was just about the nicest neighbor anyone could ever ask for, and even though he was probably 20 years older than either of us, I had often thought he might make a good lover for me. There was one other thing about him that encouraged me to plan how I could seduce him, and I think that part was actually the most-important of all.

One thing that had always concerned me, in terms of taking lovers, was that I could easily imagine my chosen partner would want more than just a few quick fucks. It seemed entirely possible that he might become really serious, and want me to divorce Glenn and marry him, and I knew there was no way I would ever want that to happen. I loved my husband with all my heart, and just couldn’t imagine a life without him, and it was for that reason, more than any other, that I’d never tried to take a lover.

Our neighbor, Jack, seemed to be a perfect choice because of a sad thing that had happened to him. His wife of many years had become seriously ill, to the point that she had to live in a nursing home for almost three years before she at last passed away. After that happened, he tried to make a life on his own, but finally decided that he’d be better off if he moved to California to live near his daughter and her two children. He was just a couple weeks away from his departure date on the day I made my move, and I was sure that would guarantee that nothing serious would develop between us.

The day I took my first step into adultery was a beautiful, summer day in East Central Colorado, and as I’d been doing for several days by then, I planned to spend some time that afternoon sunbathing on the patio behind our home. I knew that Jack would be mowing our lawn that day, and those two things just seemed to mesh in my mind as I laid my plans to get into Jack’s pants, and let him get into mine.

It was his practice to mow his own yard before he did ours, and when I heard his lawn mower running next door, I made up my mind to just do what Glenn and I both needed, and get it over with. So, I hurried to our bedroom and undressed, then put on a pair of the shortest shorts I owned that had loose-fitting legs. Note that I didn’t put on panties, because that part was important to my plans.

I looked for the skimpiest halter I could find, and then struggled to get my boobs in it, since it had been one I’d last worn before Glenn’s attentions to those parts of my body made them grow quite a bit larger than they’d been before I met him. The halter was held in place by strings that were tied behind my back, and when I stood in front of the mirror as I did that part, I could see how my boobs squeezed out all around the two cups. It didn’t take much thought on my part to make my nipples grow, and before long they were pushing against the fabric like they were straining to break free.

By the time I slipped on my flip-flops, I could tell that Jack was in the final minutes of mowing his own lawn, and would soon be coming through the opening in the hedgerow between our lots, so he could mow ours, too. I grabbed a beach towel and some suntan lotion I’d bought especially for that day, then hurried out the back door.

The towel was soon spread on the patio, and I lay face down on it with my feet pointing toward the opening in the hedges. I spread my legs just enough to draw Jack’s attention, and then lay there with my head on my hands, soaking up the rays.

About a minute later, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him walking through the opening, pushing his mower, and turned my head his way.

“Oh, hi, Jack. It’s such a beautiful day that I thought I’d work on my tan.”

He evidently hadn’t been expecting me to be in the yard, and after giving a tiny start of surprise, he replied, “Hi, Shar. Maybe I should come back after you’re through. I’m sure you’d rather not listen to this thing making noise while you’re out here.”

I just smiled at him, and told him, “We’re lucky enough to have a nice neighbor who’ll do that sort of thing, and I’m not going to chase you away. You just go ahead and mow as much as you want.” Then, as I picked up the bottle of lotion, I asked, “Before you start, could you please put some of this on my back? I know people think my skin (I’m from Mexico, and have brown skin) can’t burn, but believe me, it can.”

I saw the way his eyes roamed over my just-barely-covered body, and the slight blush that reddened his cheeks told me he appreciated what he was seeing. He showed his hesitation to do that for another man’s wife, though, when he said, “Well, I could do that if you think it’d be okay.”

I just chuckled, then replied, “You don’t need to worry about Miss Snoopy (the elderly lady who lived next door, and seemed to have her nose in everybody’s business), because I saw her leave just a few minutes ago. Besides, the hedges are so tall someone would have to actually force their way through them to see what’s going on out here.”

That must have convinced him, because he left his mower where it was and walked over to my side. He hesitated again at that point, and I had to hold the bottle of suntan lotion up to him before he took it and dropped to his knees. As I reached behind my head to lift my hair off my neck, I asked nonchalantly, “Could you untie my halter, please? That oil will stain it.”

My eyes were halfway closed as I looked up at his face, but I could see how his eyes got real big and his mouth dropped about halfway open. He finally said, “Are you sure, Shar? I don’t want to get in trouble with Glenn.”

I chuckled again, saying, “You don’t need to worry about that, Jack. You’re our best friend here, and he won’t care a bit if you help me out.”

He whispered a tiny, “Okay,” and then one of his hands moved out and I could feel the halter string being loosened. That seemed to be as far as he could go, and the string was still lying across my back, so I said, “You’d better move it out of the way or it’ll still get oil on it.”

He was finally able to force his fingers to do that simple chore, and then I say there in silence as he poured some of the lotion on my back and started covering my neck with it. By the time he had worked his way down to where the halter had been tied, I was breathing a little deeper than before, and I sighed and said, “God, Jack. You have magic fingers, for sure. I just love it when Glenn rubs my back like that, and you’re just as good as he is.”

As I said that, my head was turned toward his, and through heavy-lidded eyes I could see a bulge beginning to form in the cutoff jeans he was wearing. I pretended that I hadn’t seen anything at all, but just kept sighing and telling him how good it felt.

At last his hands reached the waistband of my shorts, and he stopped rubbing and moved back to rest on his knees. His voice was strained when he said, “I think that’s everything.”

For my part, I curled one knee and lifted that foot into the air. I asked, “Could you do my legs, too, Jack? I don’t want to get sunburned there, either.”

His only response was to put more oil on his hands, then massage it into my lifted foot and lower leg. He then worked his way up from my knee, but simply couldn’t bring himself to get closer than about 6″ to my crotch. I didn’t press the issue, but merely lifted the other foot so it could get its share of the lotion. Again, he covered my lower leg and then my thigh up to the same distance from where I wanted him to be rubbing me.

The bulge in his cutoffs was as big as it could get when I opened my eyes and looked up at him, and he was breathing about as rapidly as I was. I asked, “Jack, you don’t want me to get sunburned down there, do you? Would you do the rest, please?”

I guess my continued insistence had finally overcome his last bit or reluctance, because his only answer was to put more oil on his hands, and then starting where he’d left off, he slowly worked his way up the leg closest to where he was kneeling beside me. When he was less than two inches from “home plate,” I spread my legs and said, “If you move over between my legs, you’d be sure to get everything.”

I heard a tiny whimper deep in his throat, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he sidled closer to me, then lifted his knees in turn until he was kneeling between my legs.

He continued to caress my upper thighs in turn, and I was breathing more raggedly by the second. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer, and I started rocking my crotch against the towel, just as if I were fucking it. I sighed more deeply than before, then whispered, “Please don’t stop. That feels better than I ever thought it could. Please go higher. Help me.”

I could still hear the tiny whimpers he was making, and then the fingers of both his hands were inside my shorts, and I just went crazy.

I was almost crying when I begged, “Please don’t stop! Oh, God, that feels so good. Please get higher. Please help me!”

His fingers were stretched along my slit, with their tips rubbing my clit as they worked feverishly up and down. All of a sudden his thumbs were rubbing against my dripping opening, and as I cried out, “Yes!” I could feel both of them enter me at the same time. That was when I lost it, and as I tried to crush his fingers against the flagstones in the patio, I had a tremendous orgasm.

It took me several seconds to come back to reality, but when I did I saw that Jack had moved back over my semi-conscious body, and was once again kneeling beside me. His erection was just as big as ever, and I’m sure if his jeans had been faded more, I’d have been able to see a wet spot.

With barely-open eyes, I looked up at his face, whispering, “God, Jack, that was just about the best thing anybody’s ever done for me. Thank you.”

I heard a tiny sob, and when I opened my eyes all the way I could see tears were running down his face. He choked out, “Don’t ever thank me for that, Shar. I’m the one who should be thanking you from the bottom of my heart.”

He struggled to get his voice under control, then continued.

“I’ve been sitting over there in that empty house, thinking about how useless I am to anybody, and how my life is over. Now in just the space of a few minutes, you’ve showed me I can still help a woman . . . do that. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

I lifted my body up until I was kneeling in front of him, and as planned the halter didn’t accompany my boobs, but just lay there on the towel. I saw Jack’s eyes get as big as silver dollars, and his mouth fell all the way open as he stared and stared at what was sticking out of my chest.

The only sound he made was a tiny, “Urk,” and then he fell silent, with his eyes seemingly became riveted on those entrancing parts of my body.

I asked, “Do you think they’re pretty?”

His eyes flicked up to my face for a split second, then gravity pulled them right back down where they were meant to be. Struggling to speak, he gasped, “God in heaven, Shar! I’ve never in my life seen anything so beautiful! Jesus, your nipples are bigger than my thumbs! I didn’t know they could get that big.”

He ran out of gas at that point, so I seized the initiative by taking his hands and lifting them up to my boobs while whispering, “They get bigger.”

His hands went wild with caressing me, and when his fingers found the two objects in question and began to pinch and pull them, I pushed my chest toward him and sighed again.

I gasped, ” ‘Magic fingers’ doesn’t even begin to say it all! God, I wish all men knew how to get me so turned on.”

Then I very deliberately looked down at his crotch, and through my smile I added, “It looks like my nipples aren’t the only thing getting big and hard.” Then, before he could even think to stop me, I reached down and straightened his erection so that, rather than pointing to the side, it could stand up nice and tall.

As soon as I’d done that, I put my arms around him, pulled him to me, and gave him a great big kiss, with lots of tongue. By the time I pulled back, I’d already planned the next part of his seduction, and I knew I didn’t want it to happen in our back yard.

He continued playing with my boobs as we looked at each other in silence. Then I said, “I still think I should be the one to thank you, rather than the other way around. And so I’m going to go in the house now and make a banana creme pie for you. Would it be okay for me to bring it over about 8:00 tonight?”

He had to clear his throat a couple times before he could even begin to answer, but at last he croaked, “Anytime you want, Shar. You know that.”

I stood, then picked up the towel, my halter, and the oil. Turning to head for the house, I said, “I’ll see you at 8:00. Now you get busy and get this grass cut.”

I laughed, and he joined in after a split second. Then, as I walked through the door, he started the mower, and we both got on with the rest of our day.

Our kitchen was at the rear of the house, and the window above the sink overlooked the back yard. When I stood there for a few minutes to watch Jack at work, I saw him doing something that just about made me break down laughing.

His mower was the type that has a metal bar right below the handle, and that bar has to be held tight against the handle or the engine won’t run. What was so funny to me was that Jack was using his right hand to squeeze the handle and guide the mower, all the while holding his left hand up to his face. There was no doubt in my mind that he was sniffing his fingers, and then when he worked his way closer to the window, I could see that his thumb was in his mouth, and he was sucking my juices from it.

Then, when he reached the end of the row he was mowing, he switched hands so he could “drive” with the left while he sniffed and sucked the right. For some reason that seemed really funny to me, and all the time I was working on the banana creme pie, I was either laughing out loud or looking out the window to see if he was still doing it.

And he always was, and kept on doing it until he finished mowing and went back through the opening in the hedge.

_________________

Glenn came home from work about 6:00 that evening, and when I saw his pickup truck pull into the driveway, I ran to the door to meet him, as I nearly always did.

As soon as I had pulled him through the door and closed it behind him, I helped him get undressed. I haven’t allowed him to wear clothes in the house since about two weeks after he moved in with me, and even when I’m not at home when he returns, he always strips right inside the door.

He was already hard for me, as usual, which I’ve always liked to see. There’s no greater compliment a man can pay a woman than to get hard for her, and my husband had never failed to compliment me in that way.

As he’d been trained to do long before, he got on the floor on his back as soon as he’d peeled off his undershorts. I took off the shorts, which were the only clothes I was wearing, then straddled his head so he could look up at my quim. I whispered, “Do you see how wet I am, honey?”

I was afraid he’d injure his head nodding it so vigorously against the floor, so I quickly bent my knees and settled in place on his mouth. I said, “Jack did that to me a little while ago. Do you want to hear about it?”

God, his eyes were opened wider than I’d ever seen them, and it must have been very difficult for him to blink them twice, which is our agreed signal for “Yes,” but he did.

I acknowledged his answer by telling him every detail about what had happened, from the time Jack walked into our yard up until he left it about half an hour later. By the time I finished my story, Glenn was licking and sucking so hard that I was afraid he was going to turn me inside out, so I moved back until I was sitting on his chest.

I stared down at his handsome face for a long time, listening to him gasping for air, then asked, “Do you still want me to cuckold you, honey?”

His immediate response was a croak that I took to be, “Yes!”

My next words were no longer questions, because as far as I was concerned, we were both committed to what was going to happen that very night. So, all I did was stand up and say, “Okay, then it’s going to happen in just a few hours. Now I want you to go take a bath, because you’re all sweaty from working.”

So, he ran off to the bathroom to get clean, and I went back to the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the pie, as well as our dinner.

By the time Glenn came out of the bathroom, it was time for him to set the table, and then we ate our dinner while he told me about all the funny things that had happened to him that day. It was so good listening to him describe things to me that I didn’t even realize time was passing so quickly, and the next time I looked at the clock, it was almost 7:30.

I stood up from the table, then said, “I want you to give me a nice bubble bath now, honey, so I can be clean for Jack. I told him I’d be over at 8:00 to fuck him, so we’re going to have to hurry.”

He ran off to the bathroom to get the bath ready, and I took a quick peek in the refrigerator to make sure the pie was still looking pretty. It was, so I headed for the bathroom, and a few seconds later Glenn was helping me get in the tub.

I kept telling him to get my pussy really clean so Jack would like fucking it, and other things like that, and by the time I was ready to get out of the tub, my poor husband was simply out of his mind with lust. His dick, which had been hard ever since he came home, was jumping up and down like some crazed snake, and the pre-cum was literally dripping out of the little hole in the end. There was no doubt at all that he truly was turned on by the thought of being cuckolded.

After Glenn had toweled me dry, we hurried to the bedroom, where the clothes I’d selected were laid out on the bed. He helped me put on the panties, followed by a pair of short shorts that were a tighter fit than the ones I’d worn that afternoon. Last of all came a halter that was a clone of the one I’d worn earlier, and then I was ready.

It was just about two minutes before the appointed hour when I took the pie out of the refrigerator and carried it to the back door while Glenn stood there and watched, with his chest heaving as he labored to draw breath. As I stepped into my flip-flops, I told him, “I’ll be back in about two hours. I want you in bed on your back when I get home, and you’d damn well better not play with your little dick while I’m gone. I’m doing this for you, and I want you to show me how much you appreciate it by being harder than ever when I get back.”

Then, as I walked out the door, I said over my shoulder, “It looks like you’ll both be eating creme pie tonight, but yours won’t taste like bananas.”

Somehow, that struck me so funny that I chuckled all the way to Jack’s back door.

CHAPTER 2

He must have been watching for me, because I’d barely put one foot on the first step when the door opened, and Jack came rushing out.

“Let me carry that for you, Shar. I’d hate for you to slip and drop it, after all the trouble it was for you to make it.”

I let him do just that, and then pulled the door shut behind me as I followed him into the house. As soon as we entered the kitchen, I said, “Just set it on the counter, Jack, and I’ll take it from there. You just sit down at the table, and I’ll serve you. After all, it’s the least I can do to pay you back for the wonderful orgasm you gave me this afternoon.”

That made him blush, which is something I’ve always liked to see a man do, because it tells me he has feelings that make him more human. Of course, he tried to protest like he’d done earlier, saying that he was the one who owed me, rather than vice versa, but I wasn’t buying it.

Instead, I got a pie server out of one of the drawers (I knew where most things were in his house, since we were good neighbors, and spent lots of time in each others homes) and a platter out of an overhead cabinet. It was the work of seconds to cut a piece of the pie and put it on the platter, then put it and a fork in front of him on the table.

His soft, “Thank you,” was all the reward I needed, but the way he literally inhaled the slice made my heart swell with pride, because I could tell he thought I was a really good cook.

As he ate, I lifted my bottom up to the countertop that was about 3′ away from where he sat. I hooked the edge of my flip-flop on one of the drawer pulls under me, and pulled the drawer open for a foot rest. Of course, the drawer I’d opened was in the middle of the lower cabinet, and when I put my feet on it, they were so far above the floor that my knees were widespread. That, too, was part of my plan of seduction, because I’d practiced that very movement several times, and knew that the effect was to give Jack a really good beaver shot.

He evidently appreciated the view, because I think he was looking at my crotch more than he was watching what he was doing with the fork.

When he’d eaten the final bite, and even scraped the platter with the edge of the fork and licked it clean, he scooted his chair back and started to get up to put the plate and fork in the sink. I guess it slipped his mind that he had a raging hardon sticking out to the side in his trousers, but as soon as he remembered, his hands immediately dropped to his lap to cover the incriminating bulge.

That was when I hopped down from the countertop and put the things in the sink. Then, while he blushed even more deeply, I stood beside him, lifted one leg over his, and sat on his lap facing him, just far enough back to miss whatever it was that was making that tent down there.

Lifting both his hands out of the way, I straightened his cock through his pants while saying something about how uncomfortable that looked, then adding, “I’ll never understand why you males try to hide your hardons from women. I think the nicest compliment you can give me is to get hard for me.”

He didn’t say anything in return, so I once again took the initiative and kissed him with every bit of passion I could muster.

We were both breathing pretty heavy when I pulled away from his lips, but his own struggles to get air became even more noticeable when I whispered, “Untie that string again. I can barely breathe.”

He croaked something that sounded like, “Are you sure, Shar?” and I just nodded my head and answered, “Please, Jack.”

His hands had been around my waist, caressing my lower back while we kissed. Very slowly they began to move up my spine, and when they reached the halter string, he looked deeply into my eyes, as if asking for permission. All I did was nod, but it must have answered his unspoken question, because his fingers found the ends of the bow knot and pulled them apart. Then, as his eyes once again became transfixed on my boobs, the halter fell to the floor and I could feel my nipples engorging as the air in the room caressed them.

Still staring directly at my chest, Jack whispered, “They’re so beautiful, Shar. I can’t believe you’re letting me see them. I’ve never done anything to deserve this.”

I chuckled deep in my throat, then put one hand behind his head and pulled it forward. As his lips touched my right boob, I sighed, “Then earn it right now. Get busy.”

I’ve always thought Glenn was the biggest tit freak in the whole world, but I have to say that Jack was his equal, or maybe a close second. He kissed and licked both boobs with a fervor that did him credit, knowing instinctively that he should pay attention to all the other parts before he at last concentrated on my nipples.

Just when I was about to demand that he service my nips, his tongue found them, and then his lips. I felt him drawing one of them deep into his mouth, and then that flash of lust that is always incredibly strong raced from my nipple to my quim as he sucked with all his might. Every nursing mother knows what I felt then, and as far as I’m concerned it’s the reward the Goddess gives women for carrying around those two weights that can sometimes make their shoulders and backs ache.

The flush of pleasure had barely reached my crotch when Jack jerked his head back, then gasped out, “Jesus, Shar! You have milk! Are you pregnant?”

I laughed out loud at the thought of ever being in that condition, and then tried to explain. “No, Jack, I’m not preggers. I doubt that I’ll ever be, for that matter. Glenn did that to me before we were ever married, because he’s such a tit freak. Any woman can make milk if her boobs are stimulated in the right way.”

Then, once again pulling his head toward my chest, I asked, “Now, do you want to talk about it, or do what we both need?”

His only answer was to inhale the nipple, then suck with all his might. As I felt the milk being drawn from my boob, the erotic flush made its quick way to my quim, and all I could do was close my eyes, lay my head back as far as it would go, and revel in the sensations he was giving me.

At last his mouth reluctantly pulled away, and he whispered, “I can’t get any more. Do you want me to do the other one, too?”

I came back to full consciousness as he spoke, then after taking a deep breath, answered, “We’d better save that one for Glenn. He’ll need it before he goes to sleep tonight.”

Then, standing up beside him and pulling him to his feet, I added, “There’s something else you can do for me. Let’s go.”

Taking his hand, I led him down the hallway toward his bedroom, and when his fevered brain at last understood what I meant and where we were going, he actually whimpered. I wasn’t sure if he was doing that due to lust or fear, but it didn’t matter to me; I’d been driven right to the edge of climaxing as he nursed, and he was going to finish the job, like it or not.

As I led him into the bedroom, I flicked the light switch that controlled the table lamps on each side of his bed, because I’ve never been a big fan of having sex in a dark room. I’ve always thought the visual part of fucking is just as erotic as the touchy-feely parts, and very few of my past lovers had ever disagreed with me on that score.

When we reached the bed, I turned to him and said, “Undress me.” I stepped out of my flip-flops as my hands went to his shoulders, and the tiny downward pressure told him in no uncertain terms what I wanted him to do. He evidently got my signal, because he quickly dropped to his knees, unfastened the waistband of my shorts, and shucked them down my legs.

That was as far as he got, because he was apparently paralyzed by the sight of my bush sticking out from the edges of my panties, or maybe it was the scent of my dripping-wet quim. Whatever, it was only when I whispered, “Those, too,” that his hands were able to lift themselves to my waist. His fingers found the elastic band, and soon my last scrap of modesty was lying on the floor.

Just as I was ready to tell him to stand up so I could return the favor, his head moved slowly forward, stopping only when his face was buried in my crotch. I heard him inhaling so deeply that I was afraid his lungs would burst, and then a gasp burst forth from my lips as I felt his tongue taking a long, slow lick from my opening all the way to the top of my slit.

I knew I was really close to climaxing, so I bent over and put my hands under his arms. As I pulled him up I whispered, “I don’t want to do it like that. I want you inside me when I cum this time.”

His ability to talk had evidently left him, so I unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off his shoulders. After taking a couple seconds to make his nipples as hard as possible, I dropped to my knees and pulled off his house slippers. After that, it was the work of just a few seconds to get his trousers and undershorts off, and then I took my time caressing his balls and his cock to make sure it was as big as it could get.

When his pre-cum was threatening to drip on the floor, I stood up and walked around the bed, where I asked, “Could you help me turn back the covers? I don’t want us to get any spots on the bedspread.”

Again without speaking, Jack joined me in pulling down the covers and the top sheet, and soon they were piled on the floor at the foot of the bed. There was nothing left to do at that point but for me to get on my back in the middle of the mattress, spread my legs as far as they’d go, and hold my arms out to him and say, “Now fuck me, Jack. Make me cum until I pass out.”

My crude request broke through the fog that had enveloped his brain, and he began laughing. It took him a long time to at last gasp out, “God in heaven, Shar! Do you even have any idea how special you are? There surely can’t be another woman like you in the whole world.”

Then, when it seemed he’d done everything he could to delay the inevitable, he put his knees on the bed and climbed over me to get where we both needed him to be. He moved closer to my crotch and rubbed the head of his cock against my slit to get it lubricated, and then guided it into my opening with a heartfelt sigh.

To my complete surprise, he’d barely made one stroke before he jerked his dick out of my quim, then sat there on his knees with a horrified look on his face. I didn’t know what was wrong, but he finally explained when he said, “Jesus, Shar! I’m so sorry! I’m not wearing anything!”

I guess my own brain was pretty fogged up right then, because all I could think of to say was, “Of course you’re not wearing anything! I’m the one who undressed you, remember?”

His face turned bright red as he stammered, “I mean . . . I don’t have any . . . protection. God, some of it’s already in you. I’m so sorry. I just wasn’t thinking.”

My only answer was to hold out my arms to him as he crouched there, and say, “You don’t need to worry about ‘protection,’ Jack. Mama put me on the pill when I was in middle school.” Then, smiling as broadly as I could, I added, “Now get that thing in there where it belongs.”

His response was to simply shake his head in wonder, and whispering, “God in heaven, but you’re special,” he once again lowered himself to me. His dick was almost instantly buried to the hilt in my sopping quim, and then he began to withdraw it very slowly before ramming it back in.

It took him just a couple strokes to realize that I’d been stretched so much by Glenn’s monster that I probably wasn’t feeling anything, and that was when he started doing something that had never happened to be before.

What he did was this: On the forward stroke, he would move his hips to one side, which had the effect of making his erection enter me at an angle. That made the head rub against one side of my pussy walls, and the increased friction I felt when he did that instantly felt really good. Then, after he’d pulled almost all the way out, he’d move his hips in the opposite direction, and the other wall would feel that same friction as he again plunged deep inside me.

He kept doing that, faster and faster, with both of us breathing like steam engines as we got more and more turned on. All of a sudden he rammed his dick as far inside me as he possibly could, and I knew he was cumming, although I couldn’t feel it the way I usually could with Glenn.

It was right at that moment that his crotch started almost vibrating back and forth as it pressed as tightly as possible against mine, and I again felt something that was new.

You see, he had pubic hair, unlike Glenn, and when he jammed his crotch against mine, that hair felt just like a pad of steel wool “sanding” my erect clit. My legs instinctively wrapped around his, and as I lifted my body to his, I climaxed.

It was only when he raised his body off me that I came back to full consciousness, and before he could pull his dick out, I gripped him in my arms and held him in place.

“Stay in me,” I whispered. “I love the way it feels when someone doesn’t pull out right away.”

While that part was true enough, it wasn’t the entire truth. You see, I knew if he took his “cork” out of my quim all his cum would run out, and I didn’t want that to happen, because I had other plans for it.

So, I held him in place while we regained control of our breathing, and then I rolled to my side until we were lying next to one another, still connected. As I kissed his neck and played with his nipples to keep him at least partially hard, I whispered, “God, Jack, that’s the best orgasm I’ve had in a long time.”

That part was true enough, so I wasn’t really lying. What I didn’t tell him was that I considered the five hours since my last one to be “a long time.”

We lay there for awhile, nuzzling each other and occasionally kissing, but mostly talking about nothing really important. That changed when he took a deep breath before asking, “How can I move to California now? I thought my life here was over, but now I know it’s not. I just can’t bear the thought of not being near you, if you’ll let me.”

That gave me a start, for sure, because as I explained earlier, one of the reasons I had chosen Jack for my lover was the fact that he was planning to move out there to be near his daughter and grandchildren.

I kissed him again to keep him from digging a deeper hole, and then said, “Jack, this is just a temporary thing. I loved getting that hand job this afternoon, and then being fucked by you just now, and it’s something I’ll always remember. But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever leave Glenn for another man. He’s my whole life, and there’s no way I could ever live without him.

“Your place is in California, and we both know that. Mandy (his daughter) needs you in her life right now, because of the divorce, and your grandkids need you there to be the man in their own lives. That’s lots more important than fucking the neighbor, isn’t it?”

He pulled away far enough that he could look deeply into my eyes for a long time. At last he took another deep breath, then in a ragged voice, said, “You can get right to the heart of the matter, can’t you? I guess I knew those things, but I’m just so happy right now that I can’t think straight.”

He drew another deep breath, then asked, “Does this mean we’ll never do this again?”

I pulled him closer to me, then while chuckling, answered, “You’re not going to get off that easy, Jack. I’m going to fuck you up one side and down the other until the moving van drives away. In fact, I intend to fuck you every day, and twice on the weekends. The only way you can escape that fate is to keep your door locked.”

He started laughing, and I could feel the tension draining from his body, and that made me feel so good that I started doing something my mother had taught me when I was in high school.

What I did was to flex my pelvic muscles, which had the effect of squeezing his dick, almost as if my pussy were sucking his dick. I’ve never known that to fail when it comes to getting a man hard for me, and it had that same effect on him. As I squeezed and relaxed, squeezed and relaxed, I could feel his thing growing, and soon he had rolled me over on my back, and started fucking me again.

I knew I wasn’t going to cum again right then, because I wanted to save it for Glenn. Instead, I kept massaging the hardon that was inside me, and in just a couple minutes, he gasped, “Jesussssss!” and held me tightly against his body as he climaxed for the second time.

After giving him a few seconds to cool down, I turned to look at his bedside clock.

“God, Jack! I didn’t know it was so late! I have to get home before Glenn sends out a search party.”

I rolled to my side and quickly pulled my crotch away from his, while at the same time asking, “Do you have a handkerchief I can borrow? You must have put about five gallons of that stuff inside me.”

He pointed at the chest of drawers that was sitting beside the headboard, and answered simply, “Top drawer. Take all you want.”

I sat up on the side of the bed and jerked the drawer open, then took one of the scraps of cloth from it. It required only a split second to wad it up and stuff it between my legs, and then I used my toes to reach out and pull my shorts closer. Soon they, too, were back in place.

When I stood, I slipped my feet back into my flip-flops, and then picked up my panties from the floor. As if it were a spur-of-the-moment thing, I handed then to Jack, saying, “I want you to have these, to remind you of me when you in California.”

He took them from me and held them to his face and inhaled deeply, then sighed, “Shar, there’s no way in hell I’ll ever forget you. I’ll always keep these with me, and every time I look at them, I’ll visualize you just as you are now, and remember how good you’ve been to me, and how you made me want to live again.”

He then started to get out of the bed, saying, “I’ll walk you to the door.”

All I did was put a hand on his shoulder and push him back down on the mattress.

“Jack, you’ve earned some rest. Just lie down and I’ll pull the covers over you. I want to think of you sound asleep here, having hot dreams about me and getting ready for when I come back tomorrow for another shot at you.

“I usually stop writing at 4:00, and if it’s okay, I’ll come over then.”

He looked like he was on the verge of tears when, in a choked voice, she answered, “Shar, anytime or all the time. I know I shouldn’t say this, but I just can’t help it.”

At that, he choked up and couldn’t speak at all until he had cleared his throat a couple times, but at last he was able to continue. “Shar, . . . I . . . I love you. I know I’m not supposed to say that, but it’s all I can think of.”

“Jack, I know that right now you really do love me, because I love you in the same way. But deep in my heart, I think we both know we’re in ‘lust,’ now ‘love.’ Now, I really do need to go home.”

Then, pulling the covers off the floor and tucking them around him, I gave him a quick kiss. Before he could think of anything to say, I had turned off the lights and said a hurried “good night.”

As I stepped through the doorway, I heard him saying in a emotion-filled voice, Thank you, Shar. You really are one of a kind, you know.”

With that, I hurried to the kitchen, picked up my halter and tied it in place, put the pie in his refrigerator, and locking the door behind me, almost ran across our yards toward my back door. Glenn had been thoughtful enough to turn on the porch light after I had left, and that made it take even less time before I was once again home, and rushing down the hallway toward our bedroom.

As I stepped into that room, the nightlight in the hallway showed me Glenn, lying on his back with the covers thrown off him. His monster was jumping back and forth, and it seemed to me that it was bigger than it’d ever been. As I hurried toward the bed, I untied the halter and dropped it on the floor. I took another second for me to step out of my sandals and push my shorts down my legs, and then I was on the bed on my knees.

As I lifted one leg over his head, Glenn gasped out, “Did you do it?”

My only answer was to pull Jack’s handkerchief out of my crotch, settle in place on his lips, and whisper, “See for yourself, honey.”

So, he did. His tongue took a long swipe along my slit, and I truly felt an electrical shock as he licked me. Then, he started moaning and licking feverishly, and I started sighing and literally dancing on his mouth.

It was when he concentrated his attentions on my opening, and took his first suck that both of us went out of our heads. I gasped as I felt Jack’s cum being drawn from my pussy, and an instant later I was shocked back to reality by the sensation of ice-cold drops of water splashing against my back.

It took me a split second to understand that what I was feeling were the gobbets of cum that Glenn was spurting all over the two of us, and then another couple seconds to realize that he was cumming with nothing touching his dick. I think that, more than anything else, was proof of how turned on he was by his first experience with being a cuckold.

As I had promised myself I would, I had saved my last orgasm for my husband, and when I felt him squirting his slimy load on my back, I knew it was time to give him that reward.

So, I did. And then I just sat there and reveled in the sensations of the man I loved more than life itself satisfying his deep-seated hunger by eating another man’s semen directly from his wife’s pussy.

It was good; it was very good, and I’ve never regretted for an instant what I had done to him. We both wanted it to happen, and it did.

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As promised, I did return to Jack’s bed the next afternoon, and every afternoon after that until he at last drove away, following the moving van to California. I always planned my visits to happen about an hour before Glenn would get home from work on the weekdays, and at random times on the weekends.

As soon as Jack had filled my pussy with the evidence of his love for me, I would hurry home to meet my husband at the door when he returned, or to meet him in the bedroom. He was always eager to eat his “snack,” and I was always eager to feed it to him. It seemed neither of us could get enough of what we were doing, and I truly believe that if Jack had continued living next door to us, I would have drained his balls so much that they would have shriveled up and turned to dust.

But, that didn’t happen, because right on schedule he left Colorado and moved to California.

All was well that ended well, I guess.

The End (or maybe the beginning, depending on how you look at it.)

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