juScuRious
Member
Posts: 52
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#1 · Edited by: juScuRious
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Disclamer: Hiya guys, hope you like this story, i know its a little dark but hey its a fantasy :o)
please enjoy :o)
Ibz
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My life is perfect, my life is absolutely perfect. I’m successful, bring in more than a decent wage, have a beautiful home, a cracking car and an amazingly stunning, hot, sexy wife. I couldn’t wish for any more. Life really is perfect for me. I am the controller of all I can see and I love it! My wife does as I ask of her, in every sense of the imagination, and she has never, ever said no to me. Like I say, my life is perfect!
Sarah, my wife, keeps the house perfect, she looks perfect, she is the perfect hostess, everybody loves her, I love her (although I’ve never been sure how I managed to get her to marry me lol), and I love my life. I don’t have many friends, but the friends that I do have I’m tight with. Infact, if I think about it, Max is probably what I would have expected Sarah to go for in a man… Good looking, more money than me, bigger house, faster car, but he’s good, albeit a bit of a man slut. I don’t know how he does it really but women swarm around him like bees to honey. He’s always telling me of what he’s gotten upto, and he doesn’t just restrict his behaviour to single women. Married woman are a challenge for him, well not that much of a challenge by the sounds of it. It appears that no woman can keep her knickers on when Max is about! I’d love to have that affect on women, not because I want to cheat on Sarah, but what a boost to your confidence knowing that you could bed anyone you wanted would be. I haven’t introduced Max to Sarah, not because I think she would remove her knickers for him, I know that she wouldn’t… I think that she wouldn’t… well, I hope that she wouldn’t, and he’s never seen a picture of her - I don’t keep one on my desk or have one in my wallet, but I’m constantly talking about her to him, telling him how perfect she is, how wonderful she is, how she does as she’s told - I mean asked… I don’t think he realises how attractive Sarah is, I mean I’m not God’s gift to women, so how could I have “pulled” above my station, so he listens but he’s not really listening…
I have noticed Sarah being on the phone more than she usually is, to Shelly - again. It’s not that I don’t like Shelly, well I don’t really if the truth be known, she’s everything about a woman that I don’t like. Yes, she’s attractive there’s no denying that, but she’s a player, she manipulates, teases (well not so much tease, she offers it on a plate) she’s mouthy, lippy, verbal. There’s no class about her, she swears, uses slang, is crude and I don’t like Sarah being friends with her - I don’t want it rubbing off on my wife, I like the fact she’s obedient, subservient to a degree, hasn’t really got her own thoughts or opinions and that she hangs on my every word. Why would I want that to change?
Shelly is always encouraging Sarah to go out more, to dress more risqué, to flirt, to take, and up until now she’s always declined the suggestions. Sarah is attractive, all the men notice her, she is demur, she holds court with all the men when we’re out, they all watch her every move, they all hang on her every word, and she does it with an air of class that you can’t buy but are born with. I’m not saying she’s a snob or speaks like she has marbles in her mouth, not at all, but she does have respect and she treats people how she would like to be treat herself. Everyone who knows Sarah love her, and those that don’t want to.
I’ve always loved the fact that Sarah picked me over any other man, and I still don’t know why she did that, I’m so not in her league, but that has simply added to my devotion to her. She could have any man she wanted and still could, yet she comes home to me and whilst I’m not saying our love life is the best, I’d be happier with longer and more frequent, but I can’t have everything I want, and I have everything else. Always in the back of my mind is the thought that Sarah would stray, not that I think that she would - her morals are excruciatingly high, but the thought is always there. Recently I’ve been thinking more and more about it, wondering who she would go with, what they would do, how upset I would be if she did cheat on me, but at the same time it makes me stir. The thought seems to be turning me on the more I think of my wife with another man. It makes me harder than I have been with Sarah for a long time. I think about it when masturbating, imagining her writhing on a bed beneath some rock hard cock, doing his bidding, what she’s told, watching her exploring his body whilst he explores hers. Listening to the moaning and groaning that escapes her mouth unable to contain her pleasure. Watching her body tense as she cums harder than she ever had for me. I find myself touching myself when thinking these thoughts and cumming hard and fast. I can’t believe that something so upsetting in reality would turn me on so much in fantasy. I spend my time thinking more and more about it, and consequently wanking more and more…
Max gets it everyday at least, sometimes more, and he’s always telling me about the antics he gets upto. I’d love to have a love life like Max, the anytime, any place anywhere philosophy. I love Sarah, but a good hard fucking more often than I get it wouldn’t go amiss.
Max is continually bragging about his last fuck, his last cum, the last women, what she liked, what he liked, what they got upto. He brags about being able to have any woman he wants. He brags that no woman would be able to say no to him - non have so far! These thoughts intermingle with my thoughts about Sarah more an more and whilst it frustrates me it also makes me harder than hard! I keep telling him that I know a woman that would be able to say no but he doesn’t believe me. I leave it at that - I’m not going to be laughed at, but I am happy to plant a seed of thought in Max. Leave him to come to me, let him think it’s his idea, I’m happy with that - it’s what I do with Sarah…
It only takes a few days before Max mentions to me over a pint in the local that he’s been wondering about this woman that would say “no” - I mean, come on, how can you say no to Max lol. I don’t give him too much information, I’m still tagging him along, but I drop into the conversation how attractive she is, and if I wasn’t married I’d “do her” - to which he laughs. I mention where this woman works and give a brief description of her, I under egg it slightly so he doesn’t suspect anything. Max askes me how I know her and I simply reply that I used to work with her before landing my current job. I also say that she’s lovely, a proper lady, that she’s not a one night stand kind of gal. Max bets me that he could bed this woman and I laugh hard. He’s serious though, he’s fallen for this rouse hook, line and sinker. Result! I tell him that she’s called Sarah and works in an office not far from ours. I know, what a coincidence that she’s called Sarah too… she often goes to a bar at lunchtime to meet her friend Shelly and have a glass of wine with her lunch, and that he’d probably catch her there one day this week. I emphasise the fact that she wouldn’t go with him, that she wouldn’t be interested, no she’s not a lesbian lol, she just doesn’t do “players”. That’s all I say on the matter, we talk about other things, who he was with last night, what Sarah made for dinner, how I wouldn’t mind more sex than I get, I play it down. It’s obviously playing on his mind, this not going for him thing and he offers me a bet. I tell him not to be so ridiculous, I’m not betting on a woman fucking him, how crude and crass is that? That makes him all the more determend for the bet to occur so after another pint I back down and accept the bet. It’s to be a substantial amount, but I’m so convinced that Sarah won’t play back that I accept. I make the proviso that I want evidence of the conquest. I want to see her mobile number in his contacts, a text and if he wants the £1000 he’s insisted on I also want a photo of her and a video of some antics. This takes him aback. He’s surprised at the perversity I’ve managed to conceal for so long, but he is impressed. He’s more than up for it and accepts. We write this on a napkin and both sign. Either way, one of us is going to be a £1000 the better off for it, and if he wins - which I sincerely doubt he will, then he’ll have had a good fuck into the bargain and I’ll have to rethink everything I thought I knew - but it won’t come to that, I’m convinced of it, and watching him give me that £1000 with his tail between his legs will be worth the angst.
Dinner is on the table when I get home from the pub. It always is, I can’t fault Sarah. She’s a good cook too, there isn’t anything she can’t do - the perfect wife. We enjoy a couple of glasses of wine with dinner and go to bed. No action again for me tonight - I should have opened that second bottle after all!
Sarah’s her usual pristine self as she goes to work the next morning. She always looks stunning in an understate way, her blond hair lying loosely around her shoulders in soft waves, her big blue eyes emphasised with black eyeliner and lashings of mascara to make her long lashes look even longer. She has the clearest skin and only adds a little blush to her cheeks, I don’t think she realises the effect that slight blush to her face has on men - it makes her look like she’s just cum and is flushed and it’s hot! Her mouth just has the sheerest tint of gloss on it. A pretty pouty mouth that is full and she really is very pretty. I still get hard looking at her. She’s wearing a blouse that glides over her curves and makes the most of her breasts with a pair of black three quarter length trousers - her skin is tanned and she likes to show it off to the world. Not an orange false tan look but a golden brown colour. A pair of flats finish the look and she looks so elegant. She puts her sunglasses on and slides them over her head so that they’re worn as a hair band and the look is finished. No wonder all the men want her I think to myself. She tells me she’s planning on meeting up with Shelly at lunch time and I just nod in acknowledgment. A glass or two of wine at lunch time and a meeting with Max… should be interesting conversation at dinner tonight!
I get a call from Max that afternoon. I was waiting on the call, I had been expecting it. He didn’t disappoint me. He can’t believe that I wasn’t lying about this woman - “fuck she’s fit!”… “can’t wait to get my cock inside her!” to which I’m not ashamed to say my dick twitched as he said it. It won’t happen though, Sarah isn’t like that. He’d bought her and Shelly a glass of wine and had asked for her number but she had declined with a dazzling smile - I knew it! I knew my wife wouldn’t let me down! That money is mine for the taking lol! Then he took the wind out of my sails… he was meeting her for a take in the same bar that night! About nine. He’d meet her there. I couldn’t speak. I had to go, hang up, pretend to work to get the thought out of my mind. Why would she meet him for a take if she wouldn’t give him her number? What the fuck was going on?
Time dragged so slowly until it was time to go home. Dinner was on the table, as usual, there was a smile about her but she wasn’t smiling. It was if she had a spring in her step. Conversation was stilted during dinner. The conversation dragged until we were almost finished when she announced that she was meeting Shelly for a take later this evening. Really? Shelly? Hadn’t she seen her at lunchtime today? Should I come with her? She answered all of these questions in her stride, yes she had, but they had lots to chat about and I knew that Shelly and I didn’t see eye to eye so why didn’t I stay at home and watch the football (she knows I don’t like football) with a couple of bottles of stella. With that said she cleared the table and stacked the dishwasher, and off she went to get ready. Why get ready so early Sarah? Girly night she answered, got to look your best on girly night…
Her mobile rang and she grasped it from the work surface and answered it bright and breezily - “hello Shelly… how’s it going?…. I’m sooo looking forward to tonight… think I’ll wear my new dress… catch you later!” she sounded breathy and girly, not a voice I’d heard in a long, long time. She put her phone down back where she’d got it from and went out of the room and headed towards the bathroom. I heard to door close behind her and got up from my chair at the table. Looking at her phone I knew I was doing wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. Checking the call log there was no name assigned to the number, just the number. I knew who’s number it was going to be before I’d even checked the phone but that didn’t stop the air being sucked out of my stomach. It was Max’s. Needless to say he already had my wife’s number - to ring her phone it didn’t take a genius to work that one out. Question was would he be able to follow through with the other two requirements for the bet. I had been certain that he wouldn’t be able to get her number, now I wasn’t so sure about the photo or the video… and I felt sick to my core at the thought of this evening’s antics. Max is a man slut and the word “no” isn’t in his vocabulary so why shouldn’t part two and three be completed? The shameful thing is, that whilst I’m gutted about him having Sarah’s number, my cock is also tingling at the thought of what else Max will do to win his £1000.
The phone rang whilst I was still holding it… Sarah was in the bathroom pampering herself for Shelly - I mean Max, and the name flashing on the phone was Shelly’s - do I answer it or leave it ringing? I decide to answer it. Shelly’s voice was bright and excited until she realised it was me that was on the receiving end and it changed immediately. I asked how she was and what she was up to that night. Her response was curt and replied that she was having a night in with a bottle of wine and a dvd and that she’d simply rang Sarah to find out if she’d finished the report she’d been working on at the office. I said that she’d mentioned it over dinner and that it was all but completed. I told her to enjoy her evening and that I’d get Sarah to ring her once she was out of the bath. With that Shelly hung up and I deleted her number from the caller’s list on the phone. I felt wrong doing it, but I did it anyway. I know knew that it was definitely not Shelly that she was meeting that evening, and I wasn’t going to let her know it.
Sarah came down the stairs and took my breath away, she looked absolutely stunning. She wasn’t tarty, but oh so classy and she looked amazing. Her hair hung loosely around her porcelain face, there was barely any make up on her face but what was just emphasised her beauty, her big blue eyes sparkled, her cheeks looked flushed and her perfect pout had a slight gleam. Like I said she looked absolutely stunning. What she wore was understated and perfect. Her navy blue wrap round dress hung off her curves revealing a perfect hour glass figure that Marilyn Monroe would have been bowled over by. Slim but with full breasts, a nipped in waist and hips that made any man go weak at the knees and all women envious. She really was a beautiful specimen of a woman. The dress dipped between her cleavage showing off her curves to their best advantage. The swell of her breasts revealed between the silky blue material, heaving against the material. She had on the pretty little diamond necklace that I’d bought her for our last anniversary. This stopped me in my tracks. It was a present from me to her that she only wore for best occasions, and she was choosing to wear it this evening, when she was going to meet another man, going to get up to whatever Max had decided, and she was wearing it. I commented upon it and she said that it rested perfectly on her breasts and looked stunning and that Shelly had always loved it and was jealous of it and that’s why she was wearing it. More lies…
The skirt of her dress finished slightly below her knees showing off her long legs. They looked even longer with the four inch sling back heels she was wearing. I can not emphasise enough how stunning Sarah looked right now, and if I thought that I stood a chance, I’d have her straddled across the staircase right now fucking, but I know I’d be refused and I couldn’t cope with refusal on top of betrayal.
Sarah’s not too sure what time she’ll be back. I tell her not to worry, that I’d been on the phone to one of my friends and that I’d be going round to his tonight and that I wouldn’t be back until the early hours - we are going to watch some pay per view boxing on Sky that didn’t start until after 1am. In fact, there was a high possibility that I wouldn’t be home tonight at all because I was going to stop off at the off licence and get a carry out and we were ordering pizza later so we were going to make a night of it. It’s not like either of us have work in the morning, Saturday’s usually a lie in day anyway so I’d probably just come home in the morning at some point. Sarah looked surprised - it’s not often that I go anywhere with anyone, my friends are her friends and they don’t like me very much so usually if she’s away off out without me I spend the night rattling around the house on my own. She takes this information in her stride and kisses me on the cheek before picking up her clutch purse and clip clopping across the kitchen laminate to the front door. The taxi to pick her up had announced it’s arrival in the gravel drive by beeping it’s horn impatiently. She said she’d ring to let me know what time she’d be back, but I told her not to and that I’d see her in the morning. She smiled her dazzling white teeth at me and closed the door behind her with a click of the latch.
I watched the taxi drive off the gravel and onto the road and watched it drive out of view. I felt sick, physically sick. I pace back and forth feeling as if I’m wearing a groove in to the kitchen floor. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to pacify myself this evening, where to turn, how to fill in the time until she returns home. I’m at a loss. I know that if Sarah sees something in Max that I’m left out in the cold. I’m not stupid.
I planted the seed of thought that I’m not going to be home tonight. I know if anything is going to happen that it will be in our home - Max lives with flatmates so he’s not going to take Sarah there, he’s more likely to come back to ours. He’s never been to ours so it won’t give it away that it’s my Sarah’s he’s about to fill. I have a couple of hours to pace about and work out what I’m going to do. I could fill a few hours by doing the diy in the bedroom that Sarah’s been asking me to finish for what seems to months and months… I could fill in the void until she gets home by busying myself. I chose that option. I go up to our bedroom and look around it, thinking that this will be used this evening for Max’s bet and Sarah’s deceit. It’s the shelves in the wardrobe that needs fixing. It’s a huge oak thing (at least I think it’s oak…), and the shelves have fallen beneath the weight of Sarah’s nik naks. There are a couple of holes where the wood joints have fallen out and I’d bought some filler to sort it out. The filler that comes out as a spray and expands before hardening and becoming rock solid. After a couple of attempts, I seem to get it right - I’m no diy hand, never been good with my hands, always lagged behind in the manly aspect of things, and this amuses Shelly and Sarah no end - they enjoy laughin
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