You probably wouldn't think so to look at her. She's not a so-called 'hot wife' or a swinger or anything like that. She's never been a flirt or made a play for men. She doesn't dress provocatively.It was 8 years ago now when my wife had an affair, with a guy who'd been lodging with us a while. I call an “affair”, which I think it was to her, an exciting adventure, a bit of romance in her boring life. To him though it was just a casual fuck with a needy housewife, and she was no more special to him than the other wives he had seduced and fucked.
He was a friend of a friend, in need of a place to stay, so I thought it'd be okay to take him in for a while. The rent would come in handy. I had no thoughts at all about her going with him. She didn't even like him that much, not when he first came to stay. She said he was big-head and sexist and he seemed to like winding her up on purpose. It got so bad I thought she would ask me to tell him to go. But it never even crossed my mind that he would have designs on her. I guessed I was so used to her that I took her a bit for granted and forgot that other men might see her quite differently, with a fresh eye, as all women, a “bit of stuff”, a challenge.
I don't know when it happened exactly, but things changed. He was one of those smooth-talking bastards who always seems to get their way with women and once he turned on my wife with the charm and the flattery they stopped bickering. I was relieved that they seemed to have made peace and she even ended up agreeing to do some of his ironing for him, something she'd refused to do. But it seemed her favours didn't end with that and she ended up dropping her knickers for him and it wasn't long before he was fucking her in the afternoons while I was at work.
In retrospect I realized, there were other changes, small insignificant changes, but had I been on the ball I might have seen them as signals. Like she usually wore tee shirts or sweatshirts, nothing revealing, but she took to wearing shirts, maybe with one or two buttons undone. Not to flaunt her cleavage but enough to ****** her neck and the skin above her where her boobs started. She also started wearing skirts, not short of anything, but enough to show that she had legs.
My wife tries to make out she is a feminist, but how can you talk about equality when you are on your hands and knees with your tits dangling and being shafted from behind by a man who has total control over you and isn't going to let up until he has put his sperm in your belly. And if it ends up with you having his bastard well it's not his problem! None of that looks like equality to me, but it's the way nature meant it to be...
I think it was my wife arguing with the lodger about feminism that set him a challenge – he decided that he wasn't just going to bandy words with her, he was going to show who's boss. And in a way he was right. If she was such a feminist then why did she allow herself to be seduced?
How do I know all this? Well I didn't, not for a while anyway. It had been going on for a couple of weeks before I found out when she blurted it out during a row. I was shocked. She regretted blurting it out and begged me not to confront him. She said he would probably challenge me. He was not the sort of guy who'd say 'Oops, sorry about shagging your wife, I won't do it again'. No, he was more likely to threaten me. It could get nasty.
So, reluctantly, I took the coward's way out and turned a blind eye, hoping that it would fizzle out of its own accord when he got bored. Once he was satisfied. He'd set himself a challenge and won her over, proving to himself that feminism is bullshit and that 90% of housewives are gagging for it.
I often masturbate when looking at the full-frontal nude picture of her. It's because she's not looking at me but looking at her lover She is excited. It has always fascinated her that by stripping naked a woman has such power over a man, that she can make his penis erect, that she can make him want her. She thinks it is great that a woman has that power, to make almost any man want to fuck her. But she also knows that her power won't work on the same man too many times and once he has fucked her a few times he will simply walk away, possibly leaving her with a fat belly and a bastard
So that's the situation we lived with for a while. It wasn't as if my wife ever flaunted it in my face and whatever happened between them happened during the day, the afternoons, probably, when I was at work and out of the way. Sitting in the office at work, I would sometimes allow myself to think of what was happening back at home. It wasn't him fucking her that arose the feelings of jealousy, it was imagining them nude together, my wife walking about in her bra and panties, casually half-undressed, or floating about in just a shirt, ******** her belly and pubes, and I imagined bursting in and telling them to stop, but then seeing him there with his slowly subsiding erection, I would see that it was already too late, that he had already put his warm sperm deep inside her belly and she just lay there with her legs open as if she was showing off the fact that another man had had her.
That's how I imagined it.
Then, a few weeks later, I had another shock. It seemed that my wife had told him about her 'confession' and he wasn't happy at all. It was one thing fucking another man's wife, but did she have to go and blab!
It all came out when he invited me out for a drink one evening, which was unusual because e had never really socialized before. He seemed nervous, ill at ease, and it was quite a shock when he suddenly launched into a big apology. He said he knew that my wife had confessed to their affair – and he was mortified. He hadn't expected her to go that far. But he was honest, I'll give him that. He wasn't going to be a hypocrite and didn't want to apologize for having sex with her. He said any man would have. She may not have been his type, he said, yet there was something about her that had fascinated him – a mix of inexperience and innocence, yet still, she had made it obvious that she wanted to be fucked by him. And who was he to refuse if a woman offered herself? He'd known the first time he saw her naked that it would be good. So no, she wasn't going to apologize for doing what any man and woman do, but at the same time he had some old-fashioned ideas about propriety and doing the right thing, and shagging a man's wife was one thing, but not if he knew about it, that wasn't right at all.
He said he had been offered another job and was hoping to move out within a couple of weeks. He would be out of our hair then, and maybe my wife and I would get back to some sort of normal married life. Before he went, he did warn me though, to keep an eye on her. She wasn't a bad looker and if he had wanted to fuck her then he wasn't the only guy by any means who'd bed her given the chance, and she had clearly shown her willingness to be bedded by another man
Cuckolded By our Lodger - his story
I was looking for a place to stay for a while and one of my mates put me in touch with a bloke named Nick. He and his wife were struggling with the mortgage and they needed a lodger. I went around to meet them and thought Nick was okay, a bit boring if I'm honest and his wife wasn't much to look at, I'd seen enough of her type in my time, typical bored housewife, I reckoned nothing much would make her smile apart from a good seeing to and she obviously wasn't getting that from her husband. The only thing she had going for her really was that she had a decent figure from what I could see, she wasn't exactly dressy and seemed to go in for modest skirts and sensible blouses. But now and then, I caught a glimpse of flesh through a missing button, or the tiniest curve of cleavage the whiteness of a bra cup, I could imagine that a man might have the thought that there might be something worth chasing, to be honest, I was getting more fun out of winding her up.
The best time was when I frightened the life out of her when I was coming out of the bathroom. I didn't think there was anyone in the house, so I walked out stark naked, cock dangling, it might have been semi-hard, I can't remember, but it certainly shocked her. Later she said "Sorry about earlier,"
"I told her, "Forget it, it is nothing you haven't seen before," trying to make light of it. She gave me a puzzled look and changed the subject. I got to thinking then, maybe it wasn't something she had seen before, or at least not mine anyway. Perhaps her husband's wasn't much to look at. The thought of her wanting to get to know my cock a bit better was a tempting one. But was she really that type? She'd never given me any reason to think so, she always seemed more interested in telling me what bastards men were and how they were only interested in one thing and would say anything to a woman to get what they wanted. Same old same old, yawn yawn, I couldn't help thinking what she needed was a good fucking, not that it was ever going to happen or so I thought.
As I said previously, she wasn't my type, a bit too serious, a bit of a nag really with all that feminism crap, but I have to admit, all the same, I was curious to know what she looked like naked. She was slim with a decent figure and from what I could see she had a decent pair of tits. I probably wouldn't want to show her off to my mates down the pub, but I'm sure I'd give her a good seeing to if the chance arose. Anyway, I wasn't going to lose any sleep over it there were plenty of women out there and they were easy enough to chat up, so why waste my time over a frigid bitch like her. Except I did start losing sleep, listening to her and her husband rousing. I don't know what it was about, but it seemed to get quite heated at times. 'Oh, just give her a good fucking and shut her up,' I thought.
The morning after one of these rousing I noticed she was dressed a bit different, I could have sworn the skirt was a bit shorter and she'd ditched her old lady cardigan and was in a shirt, A sexless sort of shirt, admittedly, but it showed off the curve of her tits well. I was getting to like the look of her figure even more and again I wished I could get to see her naked and was wondering about things like did she have a bush or was she shaved? Probably a bush, tufty and dark brown, I guessed.
"I'm sorry if we kept you up last night," she said, "We had a bit of a tiff, not nice for you to listen to though."
"Didn't notice anything," I said, diplomatically.
"It's just that Nick promised we were going out this weekend, spend a bit of time together and I was looking forward to it. Now he is saying he's going to Doncaster and Newcastle, chasing some steam train."
I knew Nick was one of these trainspotter types, and I'd heard them rowing before about him spending more time with his trainspotting mates than he did with her. The next thing I know, she's crying, dropping her head to the table, and having a proper sob. I didn't know what to do, but I got up and put an arm around her, telling her not to cry and that I was sure he'd make it up to her the next weekend.
"I'm so fed up with being disappointed," she said, "I mean, I love Nick, but he can be such a letdown, all this silly trainspotting for a start and there are other things..." She left the last sentence hanging in the air.
From where I was standing, I could see downwards, into her shirt, the shadow of her cleavage, the pale freckled skin, and her beige-colored bra. I had woken with a raging hard-on earlier and this glimpse of her tits wasn't helping. She was still sobbing, so I sat beside her and tried comforting her. The face she turned to me was nothing like her usual blank expression, much more soft and vulnerable, and before I knew what was happening I was kissing her. She broke away, acting shocked, then said something about Nick, before carrying on. She was greedy for it, greedy for a man's attention. All our earlier arguments seemed forgotten. She reached out fumbling with my belt.
I had a raging hard-on straining to get out of my pants. I stood up then and turned to face her, she quickly undid my belt and unzipped me pulling my trousers down so she could get at me. She rubbed my stiff prick murmuring her appreciation, the next minute her fingers closed around me, "Oh Chris, I love your prick, I knew you'd have a big one, I want it inside me," she leaned forward and I felt her mouth close around it, taking a good 3-4'' into her mouth, I wouldn't have dreamed she could act so wantonly.
"Better get yourself up the fucking stairs then," I said, "Get your kit off."
"Yes, yes," she said, pulling me towards the stairs, as I followed holding my pants and trousers.
Once upstairs she closed the bedroom curtains and started to undress. First the shirt, then dropping her skirt, so she was standing in front of me in her bra and panties. She had a great figure, I could see then that despite any earlier thoughts I might have had about her plainness, she was 100% cunt and definitely in need of a good fucking. I could see through her bra that her nipples were erect and when she reached around to unbuckle the strap and let the bra loose she had a fine pair of tits, 34B I guessed, the right size in my book. Next, she pulled her panties down, revealing a nice bush of hair, just as I'd imagined.
She sat down suddenly on the bed, "Oh, I haven't been naked in front of a man for years, not for anyone apart from Nick, and I don't think he's that bothered to be honest."
"He's a fool then," I said, pushing her back and playing her nipples. It's funny, you never really know what to expect until you're actually at it. I'd always imagined her being a bit dried up, that she'd need some work but she was quite the opposite. When my fingers were between her legs I could tell she didn't need lubricating, far from it. I pushed her over onto her back and got into position above her. She had my cock as stiff as a poker, I pushed her legs apart and slipped into her. Oh yes, it was a delight, nice, moist, and as tight as a virgin, I guessed she didn't get much cock, well, she was certainly going to get a length of mine. It slipped inside her easily, all the way in, all 7.5” and it felt great, even more satisfying to give a good seeing to a so-called feminist. She was always going to about it but I'd always thought it was a pretense, that all she really wanted was a good shag. Her initial sighs had changed to moans now and I could feel her cunt muscles gripping onto my cock as if she was milking it.
"Oh Chris," she kept saying, "Fuck me, I love your prick, I want your prick inside me." I was close to coming by then and with one final look down at her dark nipples and her pubic bush was enough for me, I stiffened as I began to spurt the first of five loads of spunk deep into her belly. We hadn't even mentioned birth control and I wondered if she was on the pill, none of my business really. It wouldn't be the first time I'd left a woman with a bastard as a souvenir, and if desperation for cock made her run that risk, well it wasn't my problem, I wouldn't be the one with the fat belly.
The best time was when I frightened the life out of her when I was coming out of the bathroom. I didn't think there was anyone in the house, so I walked out stark naked, cock dangling, it might have been semi-hard, I can't remember, but it certainly shocked her. Later she said "Sorry about earlier,"
"I told her, "Forget it, it is nothing you haven't seen before," trying to make light of it. She gave me a puzzled look and changed the subject. I got to thinking then, maybe it wasn't something she had seen before, or at least not mine anyway. Perhaps her husband's wasn't much to look at. The thought of her wanting to get to know my cock a bit better was a tempting one. But was she really that type? She'd never given me any reason to think so, she always seemed more interested in telling me what bastards men were and how they were only interested in one thing and would say anything to a woman to get what they wanted. Same old same old, yawn yawn, I couldn't help thinking what she needed was a good fucking, not that it was ever going to happen or so I thought.
As I said previously, she wasn't my type, a bit too serious, a bit of a nag really with all that feminism crap, but I have to admit, all the same, I was curious to know what she looked like naked. She was slim with a decent figure and from what I could see she had a decent pair of tits. I probably wouldn't want to show her off to my mates down the pub, but I'm sure I'd give her a good seeing to if the chance arose. Anyway, I wasn't going to lose any sleep over it there were plenty of women out there and they were easy enough to chat up, so why waste my time over a frigid bitch like her. Except I did start losing sleep, listening to her and her husband rousing. I don't know what it was about, but it seemed to get quite heated at times. 'Oh, just give her a good fucking and shut her up,' I thought.
The morning after one of these rousing I noticed she was dressed a bit different, I could have sworn the skirt was a bit shorter and she'd ditched her old lady cardigan and was in a shirt, A sexless sort of shirt, admittedly, but it showed off the curve of her tits well. I was getting to like the look of her figure even more and again I wished I could get to see her naked and was wondering about things like did she have a bush or was she shaved? Probably a bush, tufty and dark brown, I guessed.
"I'm sorry if we kept you up last night," she said, "We had a bit of a tiff, not nice for you to listen to though."
"Didn't notice anything," I said, diplomatically.
"It's just that Nick promised we were going out this weekend, spend a bit of time together and I was looking forward to it. Now he is saying he's going to Doncaster and Newcastle, chasing some steam train."
I knew Nick was one of these trainspotter types, and I'd heard them rowing before about him spending more time with his trainspotting mates than he did with her. The next thing I know, she's crying, dropping her head to the table, and having a proper sob. I didn't know what to do, but I got up and put an arm around her, telling her not to cry and that I was sure he'd make it up to her the next weekend.
"I'm so fed up with being disappointed," she said, "I mean, I love Nick, but he can be such a letdown, all this silly trainspotting for a start and there are other things..." She left the last sentence hanging in the air.
From where I was standing, I could see downwards, into her shirt, the shadow of her cleavage, the pale freckled skin, and her beige-colored bra. I had woken with a raging hard-on earlier and this glimpse of her tits wasn't helping. She was still sobbing, so I sat beside her and tried comforting her. The face she turned to me was nothing like her usual blank expression, much more soft and vulnerable, and before I knew what was happening I was kissing her. She broke away, acting shocked, then said something about Nick, before carrying on. She was greedy for it, greedy for a man's attention. All our earlier arguments seemed forgotten. She reached out fumbling with my belt.
I had a raging hard-on straining to get out of my pants. I stood up then and turned to face her, she quickly undid my belt and unzipped me pulling my trousers down so she could get at me. She rubbed my stiff prick murmuring her appreciation, the next minute her fingers closed around me, "Oh Chris, I love your prick, I knew you'd have a big one, I want it inside me," she leaned forward and I felt her mouth close around it, taking a good 3-4'' into her mouth, I wouldn't have dreamed she could act so wantonly.
"Better get yourself up the fucking stairs then," I said, "Get your kit off."
"Yes, yes," she said, pulling me towards the stairs, as I followed holding my pants and trousers.
Once upstairs she closed the bedroom curtains and started to undress. First the shirt, then dropping her skirt, so she was standing in front of me in her bra and panties. She had a great figure, I could see then that despite any earlier thoughts I might have had about her plainness, she was 100% cunt and definitely in need of a good fucking. I could see through her bra that her nipples were erect and when she reached around to unbuckle the strap and let the bra loose she had a fine pair of tits, 34B I guessed, the right size in my book. Next, she pulled her panties down, revealing a nice bush of hair, just as I'd imagined.
She sat down suddenly on the bed, "Oh, I haven't been naked in front of a man for years, not for anyone apart from Nick, and I don't think he's that bothered to be honest."
"He's a fool then," I said, pushing her back and playing her nipples. It's funny, you never really know what to expect until you're actually at it. I'd always imagined her being a bit dried up, that she'd need some work but she was quite the opposite. When my fingers were between her legs I could tell she didn't need lubricating, far from it. I pushed her over onto her back and got into position above her. She had my cock as stiff as a poker, I pushed her legs apart and slipped into her. Oh yes, it was a delight, nice, moist, and as tight as a virgin, I guessed she didn't get much cock, well, she was certainly going to get a length of mine. It slipped inside her easily, all the way in, all 7.5” and it felt great, even more satisfying to give a good seeing to a so-called feminist. She was always going to about it but I'd always thought it was a pretense, that all she really wanted was a good shag. Her initial sighs had changed to moans now and I could feel her cunt muscles gripping onto my cock as if she was milking it.
"Oh Chris," she kept saying, "Fuck me, I love your prick, I want your prick inside me." I was close to coming by then and with one final look down at her dark nipples and her pubic bush was enough for me, I stiffened as I began to spurt the first of five loads of spunk deep into her belly. We hadn't even mentioned birth control and I wondered if she was on the pill, none of my business really. It wouldn't be the first time I'd left a woman with a bastard as a souvenir, and if desperation for cock made her run that risk, well it wasn't my problem, I wouldn't be the one with the fat belly.
