Make Believe Im a Cuckold

I Make Believe I'm a Cuckold (Ch. 3)

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." 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 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 ballsack 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 cheerleading, 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 sissyboy 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 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 cocksucking 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.

I don't know who signaled what how, but we almost shyly kissed each other – no tongues, just lips. Short kisses that got repeated five or six times as we put our arms around each other under the soft warm shower. I thought, but did not say, that Nancy deserved a man who would love her, that it was a cruel twist of fate that she had no one. And then, because she and I had shared more intimacy and affection in those 20 minutes in the shower than Sally and I had in eight years of marriage, I wondered if I didn't deserve someone to love me, too.

Nancy announced, pulling back from our longest kiss, that she was ravenous and that we should go eat. Seattle is famous for its restaurants, and a few great dinners had been on my wish list, too. So we got out, got dry, and got dressed. In our room, Nancy asked me if I would do her a favor and wear another pair of her panties under my regular clothes.

I hesitated just a second and she said, "I don't want to humiliate you. This will make me feel closer to you, and make me feel like you belong to me." She said it with a sweet smile and I asked her to select a pair. She drew a beautiful light blue bikini from her drawer and motioned to me to let her put them on me.

I held the dresser and lifted my legs one at a time as she knelt in front of me and slowly drew them up my legs.

"I want to shave your legs later, Don. You can't look sexy in lacy undies if your lags are all hairy. Will you let me shave them later?"

"If you'll shave for me. Can we trim your bush and let your girl see a little sunlight?" She laughed and agreed that it was a fair trade. Then she leaned forward, said "I'm going to take care of my little boy, Don," kissed the head of my drooping penis, and pulled the pants up the rest of the way. It felt terrific as my balls and penis settled into my silky pouch. I had the early stirrings of feeling like I belonged to her now.

Our entire relationship had always been founded on eating together on our road trips, but dinner that night was special. Nancy still looked around for a man who wanted to seduce a wife, but she did it while still paying lots of attention to me, our food, and our conversations. Among our "firsts" that night was her getting me on a dance floor.

I was exactly as terrible a dancer with Nancy as I had ever been with anyone, but she seemed to enjoy her victory despite a slight bruise or two on her feet from my clumsiness.

When a man from another table asked if he could cut in, I felt for the first time what a husband who might soon be cuckolded should feel: anxiety. It didn't go away when he brought her back to our table, complimented her, and retreated.

Women see things men don't see, and as Nancy looked at my face she burst out laughing. "Holy shit, Don, you're jealous! You look like a husband whose wife just had too much fun dancing with some Lothario on the prowl for a hot wife."

I stewed, and she reached over, drew my head to hers, and gently kissed me on the lips. What with all the sex we'd ever had, we had never shared a genuine kiss in public.

"I think maybe I am. Is this how a cuckold feels?"

"I wouldn't know, but it's a good sign. Is this going to be the first night we go out and you hope I don't find a stud?"

"I'm not sure what I want, but I know what you need, and I just want you to be happy. I kind of want you to be happy when you're with me, so if you need more and get it, maybe you'll be happier when you're with me. Does that make any sense?"

"That's exactly how a cuckold should feel, honey. Maybe we can do "slut and cuck" for real now, no pretending?"

"Let's try."

That restaurant didn't work, but the nice piano bar we went to next was a gold mine. It had a nice air to it and was full of guys who wanted to dance with a woman whose husband wouldn't. Within an hour Nancy had decided that a tall red-headed guy named Cameron was her prize winner, and we were soon in an Uber headed for his apartment.

During the dancing hour, she sat with him at his table between dances, and they played kissy-face and talked about me. Nancy told him that I was one of those impotent husbands who loved to sit in a corner and watch other men plow his wife.

The guy was about 28 or 30, younger than us, and had often fantasized about being an alpha male. "Nancy and Don from Philadelphia" were his dream come true.

He had a genuinely gorgeous apartment, well-furnished and spacious. In the car over he had informed us that he had a roommate, but that they left each other a lot of privacy and he would pay us no mind. He joked that the walls were real thick and neither he nor Jordan had ever heard each other "even when our bedroom athletics got loud."

We sat for a glass of wine in the living room and admired the view. Jordan walked through a few times as he went from the kitchen to his room. He seemed pleasant but distracted, and even younger than our host. Cameron said Jordan was a little intense, being a new hire at a big software company, and usually worked from a PC in his room.

Before the wine was half-finished Cameron had put on some music and resumed dancing with Nancy. There was a ridiculous amount of touching, rubbing, and hunching involved, and Cameron kept looking at me to see if this was really going to work. Unlike any scene Nancy and I had enjoyed before, I took charge.

"Cameron, my wife loves dancing, but would you consider taking us into your bedroom and throwing some cock in her? The slut is as horny as I've ever seen her and Nancy wants you to show me how a real man fucks a whore wife." I silently patted myself on the back both for having taken the initiative and coming up with the porny dialogue.

Nancy reached down and gave the young man a squeeze. "The young man has a hefty size cock, Daddy. Won't you be jealous if he makes me cum all over this thing?" Nancy was no slouch in the dirty talking department, either.

Cameron's eyes almost popped out of his head as he dragged Nancy down the hall with "her husband" in hot pursuit. He didn't know which to do first, so he alternated removing an item of clothing from Nancy and then an item of his own. When she was down to her panties she dragged him in close and smothered him with those large breasts she carried. He tried to kiss both nipples and take his pants off at the same time, and Nancy stepped it up a notch.

"You just pay attention to Mommy's breasts, you dirty young man. My husband will make himself useful. Daddy?" That was my cue to kneel in front of Cameron and unbuckle his belt and strip him bare. Out popped Nancy's prize, a half-hard but drooping uncut dick that was considerably longer than average. The foreskin was halfway back, so the head of Cameron's cock was half exposed. He was a real redhead by the way.

His was only the second uncut cock I had ever seen in person. In college many years ago I had sucked quite a lot of guys, but they were all cut, every one of them. There had been a guy in Denver a month ago who forced me to blow him after he fucked Nancy, and he had been my first whole dick.

I don't know what Nancy hoped would happen, or when, but I had not thought to play touchy-feely with Cameron's sex organs early in the evening. But Gary had shown me that using my mouth to bring an uncircumcised cock to full erection was truly glorious. Getting my tongue under his foreskin, using my pursed lips like a tight hole to force the skin back as the head went into my mouth, all had turned me on.

So without much thought, I said, "Darling, may I please get Cameron's big cock ready for your pussy?" Without waiting for an answer, I gobbled half of it into my mouth and started moving my face into and out of his crotch.

He moaned like no one had ever sucked his cock before. I threw my neck muscles into working him hard, and it didn't take long. Youth is indeed wasted on the young. I'd kill for a cock that performed on demand like that.

Nancy finished stripping herself and pulled Cameron's dick out of my mouth, dragging him over to the bed. She settled down on her back, opened that nice hairy cunt of hers, and told Cameron to "knock off that gay shit with my husband and fuck me." When he lay down next to her instead of getting aboard, she mounted him, which might have been what he was hoping for.

Humping her wide hips up and down his considerable length, she dragged her fleshy tits across his face. "Such a big strong boy for Mommy," she moaned. Nancy was getting off on the age difference and was working it into our cuckold play. "Daddy's dickie is so small, Cameron, it's up to you to make me feel like a woman."

I'd almost forgotten, what with everything that had happened between us, but for Nancy, this was first and foremost about us playing the role of an unhappily married couple. Whenever she could she said something about her "husband's tiny dick," or how she "always needs a real man to make me cum." "Show my husband" was a frequent line, as in "show my husband your cock," or maybe "show the wimp how a real man fucks a woman."

For his part, Cameron said several times that he had never been in a cuckold scene before. At many moments he expressed wonder that I didn't object. "Your wife loves my cock, doesn't she, Don? You're not man enough to care who fucks her? You get off on this shit?"

While Nancy rode Cam's cock like a cowgirl, she ordered me into the action. "Play with his balls, Cucky." Get down there between his legs and stroke his balls. I want a big load from this big cock tonight, you sissy."

Then, to her lover, she said, "I'm glad my husband is such a pussy. If I'd married a real man I wouldn't have met you. I love your fantastic cock, you young stud. Am I the first neglected wife you've ever fucked, really? This sack of shit I married is the only man you've ever turned into a cuckold?"

I pulled his legs open to make room and lay face down on the bed between them. I fondled his large eggs for a second and then craned my neck so that I could get my face under Nancy's big ass and lick Cameron's ball sack.

By this time his entire crotch was just sopping wet with Nancy's secretions, and it tasted for all the world like eating pussy, not sucking balls. I worked one testicle into my mouth and moved it around as much as I could, then went for the second one, but it was too late.

Cameron was repeating over an over "I don't do gay shit," but he orgasmed with a scream and blew a big cumload up into Nancy's vagina. She came at almost the same time and my face was soon just fucking drenched with cunt juices and Cameron's load of jizz. Nancy collapsed down onto Cam's chest and the two of them whimpered their pleasure as I licked every body part I could reach with my face.

Cameron started up again with "I'm not gay." I thought maybe he was a teensie bit in denial.

Nancy knew that she didn't need to tell me what to do next, but for the sake of our role-playing, she rolled off of him, onto her back, and ordered me to suck her lover's cock and balls clean.

"I think I know why your husband doesn't satisfy a real woman like you," Cameron said, as I nibbled.

"Wait until you see what my old man really likes," Nancy replied, and began to remove my pants. "Ass up, darling. Time we gave your pathetic equipment some daylight." She dug her hands under my hips and helped lift me up onto all fours. My mouth was still attached to Cameron's penis.

Nancy only needed to lower my trousers half-way down my thighs to reveal to her lover that I was wearing women's panties. "Whoa," he exclaimed. "Your husband is a cross-dresser? I don't do gay stuff."

"It gets better," she said. "Hand me that lube." And while Nancy's latest bull looked on slack-jawed, I sucked and licked while she finger-fucked my asshole. He couldn't actually see my ass because it was facing away from him, but Nancy made it clear.

"My husband has a really horny ass, Cameron. He's not so good with the cock God gave him, but he gets other cocks, real men's cocks once in a while to enjoy. Can you get it up again so soon? You could try him out. I love to watch my husband get fucked by my lovers."

"I've got a better idea. Jordan is totally gay. How would you feel if he took a ride on your husband's cute ass? Go knock on his door and bring him in here. Better throw a robe on, though. Pussy turns him off."

Nancy was back in a minute with a stunned gay top who looked at me with wide eyes.

"Come in, Jor. Her hubby's ass is hungry, and she's already lubed his hole for you."

I turned to look at Jordan and smiled, then went back to work on Cameron. Then I briefly interrupted my work and told Nancy, "Honey, hand him the KY. He needs it now."

He did, although he congratulated Nancy for doing "such a good job of opening your husband's ass up." She told him I had shot my load while she pegged me with her vibrator just before dinner. He smirked and said, "It's almost like you knew he was going to take some cock tonight!"

She sneered, "my cuck takes some cock most nights, Jordan. You're not exactly getting a cherry boy here...."

Nancy and I didn't return to the hotel until daybreak. Cameron was indeed able to "get it up" again, and he fucked her bareback two more times that night. Each time, Jordan did me beside them, in the same King-size bed. Jordan always wore a condom, which Nancy encouraged, saying "there's no telling what's been in my faggot husband's ass, Jordan. He'll happily take cock from anybody. I don't know how he ever tricked me into thinking he was straight, and marrying him."

Once again I enjoyed the soft fleshiness of a real cock over the hard unyielding rigidity of Nancy's vibrator, hours earlier. More than once, as it turned out. Jordan never touched Nancy, and he didn't share me with Cameron, either. Every moment we were awake Jordan either had his sheathed cock in my ass or, condom-free, down my throat. I noticed that Jordan's jizz didn't taste as sweet as Paul Terkin's, but I'd never swallowed a load that I didn't like at least a little bit. Even back in college, when I'd been a total mouth-whore for my friends – and, to tell the truth, for a few total strangers – I'd never hated a mouthful of sperm.

I think the best moments tonight were when one of us was being fucked in the missionary position and the other was on all fours, and "my wife" and I could tenderly kiss each other while our men fucked us side-by-side, wondering out loud how a pair like us ever became a married couple. They had fun taunting us with a running gag about our being married.

Jordan started on me, with "You promised 'to love, honor, and obey,' huh cuck? Obey this, you wimp." He punctuated the three words "love, honor, and obey" with three very exaggerated thrusts of his big cock downward into my rectum. "You're such a fag you probably caught the bouquet at your own wedding!" I tightened my legs, wrapped around his hips, and held him tightly.

Cam said to Nancy "'In sickness and in health'? You're sick, you slutty whore. Here's an injection that will cure you," said as he unloaded his balls into Nancy's upturned cunt.

As they went back and forth about how incongruous it was that we are married to each other, my mind wandered. I thought about my real wedding day many years before, and my rather sexless life with Sally ever since. I thought about our separate bedrooms, not just separate beds, but bedrooms. I tried to remember when I had last felt joy to see my wife, or maybe her me.

I lay in that bed, physically sated and emotionally upset, the muscles in my ass kneading Jordan's erect cock. I was holding Nancy's hand and returning her soft kisses as we each moaned our pleasure for the men making us women.

And I briefly imagined a different future for us. The last words from my real wife were dismissive and contemptuous. Maybe Sally and I were finished. Just before I fell asleep in Jordan's arms I wondered: were any two people ever better suited for each other than me and Nancy?