Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 And Then There Were Three.  Part one of four parts (MF, cuck, rom)

   Part one

   Just some things you should know now that you've found out about us.  I
know that you were bothered about loosing Paula but now you know that won't
happen.  Whatever has passed between her and me hasn't drastically altered
her feelings for you; both of you have agreed that things will just be a
little different from now on.  That you want to carry on with what you have
agreed says much about you Martin.  Paula and I have talked at length about
the situation and now we can tell you what you are going to do.

   But first, let me tell you how we got to where we are now.  It started
innocently enough, it always does.

   It was the on-line charity auction in the office intranet that did it.
There were the usual stuff, cakes baked to some special `granny's' recipe,
a mornings housework, a genuine Indian meal prepared by building services
guy, free riding lesson and so on.  We could all bid on-line with an
end-date in a week or so.  It was a bit dull I thought, so I offered a
flight in a 2-seat light-aircraft `in the vicinity of your house'; the
plane would be piloted by me, hired from a local flying club.  The auction
really took off then (excuse the pun); the bidding went up very quickly
with some staff bidding against each other several times.  I occasionally
logged on to see the progress; one time Paula's name popped up.  I watched
with added interest then.  Somebody out-bid her and then another and then
she bid again.  Three were left in it and an idea formed.  The flight was
going to be photographed for the work magazine and also for pictures on the
website.  I wanted Paula to get the flight but I didn't want tons of people
around at the time; also, she'd likely be out-bid and I didn't want to take
either of the two guys left in the race.  So, calmly, I `bumped' into her
and told her to stop bidding, I'd take her anyway.

   She was delighted.

   `When?' she asked.

   `Anytime you like.' I said, `a weekend is better; bring your husband to
take some pictures before we go.'

   She looked thoughtful for a second.

   `Saturday?'

   `It's a deal, ' I said, `see you at the local airfield at 9am.  Wear
trousers, lace-up shoes and bring a jacket and sunglasses.'

   I was there at 8.30, plane ready and me waiting by it.  Her car entered
the car-park at her usual rate (fast) and I was pleased to se that she was
alone.  Great, no husband!  She got out of the car.  When I said trousers,
I'd meant just that; I hadn't envisaged a pair of jeans that looked as if
they'd been sprayed on.  Boy did she look good; they fitted so closely,
following every contour of her legs and crotch; the outline of her pussy
lips clearly defined.  I tried not to look (she told me later that I'd
failed miserably).

   `No husband?.  I enquired.

   `No.' She said, giving no further explanation.

   I showed her around the aircraft and helped her into the small cockpit.
As I walked around to the other side I noticed two pilot colleagues
watching; out of Paula's sight, I grinned at them and silently mouthed,
`fuck off.' They waved back.

   `Dirty, lucky bastard.' one softly called.  I climbed in.

   Getting her belted in was a nice experience as I adjusted the straps;
she made it comfortable over her breasts.  I glanced briefly at them;
lovely.  I fired up the engine, went through all the safety checks,
explaining what I was doing as I did so.  She looked lovely with the
headset on and sunglasses.  I called the tower and taxied around to the
runway.  I checked that she still wanted to go and she said she most
certainly did.  I radioed the tower and said I was ready for departure.  I
received clearance and entered the runway.  With a glance at Paula I gave
it full power and we tore down the runway, lifting off quite soon.  A quick
glance indicated that Paula was OK, she was grinning from ear to ear.  I
climbed out to 1000 feet and headed west towards the Brecon Beacons.

   Paula was entranced at the wildness and the view; it was a perfect day.
She wore the expression of an excited child as we levelled at 4000 feet and
cruised around as I pointed out things on the ground and a hot-air balloon
which we circled at a safe distance.  The crew waved and Paula waved back.
I asked her if she was enjoying it.  She put her hand on my arm and said
she was; she left her hand there for some times and then, just so
naturally, dropped it to my upper leg and gently moved her hand back and
forth.  Bloody difficult flying with a hard-on I tell you.  I headed back
to the field and gave her the controls; nervous at first she later relaxed
and I got her to turn it and hold it level and in a straight line.  I took
over again as we neared the airfield and she put her hand lightly back on
my leg; she was apprehensive as I approached for landing as she said the
runway looked too small.

   `It's OK.' I said, `it gets bigger the nearer you are.'

   She giggled

   `So I see.'

   I frowned and then realised.  My hard-on was evident.  I blushed and
then moved her hand.

   `I need to concentrate on this bit.' I said

   I called the airfield and in turn we were cleared to land.  She went
quiet as we approached and then just said `Wow' as we touched down.  I
taxied to the club and shut the plane down.  I showed her how to undo the
safety harness by undoing mine.  She undid hers and in one movement leaned
over and kissed be full on the mouth.

   `Thank you,' she said, `that was the most marvellous experience.'

   I looked at her in wonderment and said nothing; I was dumbstruck.  I
opened the door and got out, went round and opened her door and helped her
out.  The two guys who had watched us go were waiting already; they'd been
listening on the radio and heard me call on the way in.

   One of them, one of those good looking bastards that all us men hate,
chanced his luck.

   `Do I get a kiss like that if I take you flying?'

   Paula stopped, looked him straight in the eye.

   `No.' She said, and walked on.

   I grinned at his disappointment and said nothing.  Back at her car, I
asked if she'd like a drink before going home.

   `I thought you'd never ask.' She said, `I'll follow you in my car.'

   I drove to a riverside pub and we had a lovely hour which passed all too
quickly.  As we left the pub garden, she suggested a short walk along the
river bank; there was an obvious path so we followed it, talking about the
flight as we walked.  I can't remember what I said exactly, but it prompted
Paula to turn round and dig me in the ribs.  I caught her wrist, she turned
towards me and we went straight into a full blown kiss.  She kisses so well
as you know.  I was staggered at the intensity of it, her tongue in my
mouth and her body pressed against mine.  I rapidly became hard which she
must have felt as she gave a short gasp as we kissed.  I felt her gently,
but quite deliberately, press her pubis into me.  There was only one place
this was going from here Martin.

   We broke apart and looked at each other.  We didn't say anything, just
turned around and walked back to my car, hand in hand.  When she got into
her car, I asked her if we could get some time together.  From our
conversations, she knew that I often went out for a day on my own at
weekends or that my wife regularly visited her mother, sometimes staying
overnight.  I also knew that you sometimes travelled with your work.  She
said she'd think about it; I thought then that she was having second
thoughts already so didn't push things.  I was a surprise therefore the
following Monday, that she said that she was taking the Wednesday off and
that you were going away that day and would be away overnight...and could
we meet?  Would I like to call round for coffee around lunch-time?  Yes to
both I said.

   I'll never forget that Wednesday afternoon in your bed Martin.  We never
got around to the coffee.  At first we fucked like it was going out of
fashion, later we made love and talked.

   I boldly drew up my car into your drive: when I got out, I took my
briefcase with me, looking like some respectable business man come to talk
insurance or whatever.  Paula opened the door before I reached it and I
entered your house.  I turned around as she shut the door and dropped the
latch; she looked stunning Martin.  She'd put up her hair and had on a
low-cut top just showing the swell of her breasts.  What took my breath
away however was the skirt she was wearing: it was impossibly short but she
wore it so well and moved no naturally, so sure was she about herself.  I
went through into the sitting room, I didn't sit, just stood there looking
at her.  She asked me if I'd like coffee and I slowly shook my head as I
looked into her eyes.

   `Good.' She said and moved towards me and kissed me full on the mouth.

   It wasn't me that started the running Martin, it was your wife.  She
pressed against me as she kissed me; pulling away she took my hand, turned
and walked me into the hall and to the foot of your stairs.

   I was shaking either through excitement or nervousness, I don't know. 
She took the first step and I followed her up, my eyes on her incredible
legs and bottom moving under her skirt.  At the top of the stairs she
turned left and led me into your bedroom.  The room was bathed in sunlight
filtering through the already drawn curtains; the thin duvet was pulled
back over the sheets that you had vacated earlier that morning.

   Your wife turned around to face me, `I haven't done this before...' she
said, and went to say more but I put the tip of my finger to her lips to
silence her.  I didn't want her going all guilty on me right now.

   She paused, opened her mouth slightly, sucked in my finger and gently
nipped it between her teeth.  I moved towards her and went straight for her
mouth, she let go of my finger a fraction before our lips met; we kissed
without any finesse, hard with searching tongues, teeth on lips and
grinding into each other.  I roughly pulled off the clip holding her hair
up and it fell free around her face.  It was wild, raw passion Martin.  We
broke apart and your wife stepped back; as she looked me straight in the
eyes, she crossed her arms as she gripped the hem of her top and in one
fluid movement pulled it over her head.  I was staggered, she stood looking
at me as I looked back at Paula, her breasts free and wearing just that
short skirt.  She is beautiful Martin, you and I are both lucky men (and so
are a couple of others before she married you she since told me).  I pulled
my shirt over my head and we embraced and kissed again as she undid the
belt of my trousers; I pulled away, kicked off my shoes and pulled my
trousers off, taking my socks with them.  I stood there in my tight briefs
with a seemingly huge erection and precum leaking through.  Your wife gazed
at my evident arousal; as she did so, she undid the clasp at the side of
her skirt, let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it.  I looked at her
in awe.  Naked, her figure is perfect; she wore the briefest of thongs, the
deep claret coloured one you bought for her, the triangular front piece
evidently wet.

   She moved backwards to the edge of your bed and sat down, pulled herself
fully onto it and then lifting herself slightly, pulled down her thong and
lifted her legs as she drew it off.  She lay back fully and slightly parted
her legs to expose the most perfect slit surrounded by neatly trimmed hair.
Still standing, I pulled off my briefs and my hard cock sprang clear. 
Paula looked at it and then me; I moved to the bed and went to lie beside
her but she pulled me on top of her.  Then all hell broke lose.  We kissed,
bit sucked at each other her breasts were hard on by chest and she went mad
when I kissed them, gasped when I sucked them and wild when I gently nipped
each nipple in turn between my lips.

   Her hand went down and grasped my solid prick (cock was too polite a
term for this great leaking shaft) as I felt down to her slit; it is lovely
and with smooth edges, as you know Martin, when I thrust a finger inside it
was like opening a floodgate.  Love juice poured from her; I went to go
down on her but she grabbed my hair.

   `Please.' She whispered, `just fuck me Rod, please.'

   I needed no further bidding Martin; as I moved to enter her she grabbed
my prick and slid herself onto it in great haste.  I followed with a thrust
and she gasped, so loudly I thought I'd hurt her and went to withdraw.

   `It's all right,' she breathed, `keep going.'

   And we did Martin, we fucked, there is no other word for it.  Your wife
met every thrust of mine, she grunted at each thrust, digging her nails
into my back, biting my lip, repeating over and over again, `fuck, fuck,
fuck...'

   At one point her flailing arms knocked a photo frame off the table next
to your side of the bed.  It landed face up on the bed and I had the odd
experience of fucking your wife whilst looking of a picture of you and her
on your wedding day.  Bizarre!  I couldn't keep this pace for long; I tried
to stop for a while but she kept saying `No' every time I slowed;
eventually my control fell away and I knew I was going to cum very soon.  I
lunged deeper and fiercely into her and she started to raise her voice as
she repeated over and over again, `Harder, harder, harder...'; I put my
hand over here mouth as I began to cum.  I rammed my prick into her as hard
and as deep as I could, she bit my hand and groaned.  I came what felt for
ages; it felt that good it almost hurt.  I felt it rush through my prick
and release into her.  From walking into your house to now must have taken
place over less than fifteen minutes.  Your wife is a marvellous fuck
Martin.

   My erection faded away after a while and I relaxed and started to
breathe more regularly.  I looked down on her face, her lips were swollen
from rough kissing and I noticed her eyes were moist.

   I went to speak but she said, `Don't say anything' and the words died on
my lips.

   As we lay quietly, my cock softened and started to move out of her: as
it did so she gripped it with her vaginal muscles, a great feeling which I
thought only my wife could do.  I smiled down at her and withdrew my
softened cock and moved down her body.

   `Where are you going?' she asked.

   `I have some unfinished business to attend to.' I said softly and
carried on down, kissing and sucking her breasts on the way.

   She half-heartedly gripped my hair and softly said `No.' but it had no
conviction so I carried on down with my tongue.  As I approached her now
swollen lips she raised her hips slightly, offering up her lovely slit, now
half open.  A wonderful musky scent arose from her, a mixture of her
natural womanhood, her love juices and my cum; it was wonderful.  I found
her slit with my tongue and moved up to her slightly hidden clitoris.  When
I tickled it lightly with my tongue, she sighed and pushed herself into my
face; I drew back slightly and moved down, she lowered her hips to maintain
contact with my tongue and I kept going down until her gorgeous arse was
back on the bed.  Your bed sheet was soaked.  I kept up the stimulation of
her clitoris, listening for signs of her enjoyment, they came soon enough,
and to my eternal delight, so did she.

   And boy, did she let me know it was coming.

   First a great sigh, followed by a `Fucking hell.' then a rush of fluid,
a deep moan and then an almighty shudder and a flood of liquid filled my
mouth.  She grabbed my hand and pushed it down, `fingers.' I heard her say,
`fingers.' She said again.  I thrust two fingers roughly inside her and she
clamped down on them instantly.  I vigorously moved them inside her as she
thrust herself onto them and thrashed around as each wave moved through
her. Eventually she quietened down and I stopped moving my fingers.  When
she was still I gently removed my fingers; as I did so, she opened her eyes
and looked at me hazily.  She told me that was the first time it had
happened to her for over two years.  By my reckoning, that meant that you
hadn't given her an orgasm since you married her Martin.  Also, over two
years ago meant that somebody had before you married her, when you knew
her. I said nothing.

   We lay together for a while, saying nothing, she with her head on my
shoulder, occasionally drifting off and coming back again.  I looked down
on her beautiful face and thought what a lucky man I was that afternoon.  I
leant over and kissed her softly and she stirred and opened her mouth and
pushed her tongue into mine.  I returned her kiss and then moved to her
neck (she likes that doesn't she Martin?) and then her breasts.  She
started to react and, to my surprise, so did I.  We made love then in the
true sense of the term.  We smiled, we moved together, talked, laughed and
all the time me moving in and out of your wife.  She told me I was
wonderful, a great lover, marvellous to be in bed with and how much she
loved my `huge prick' she called it.  This surprised me somewhat as I don't
consider my self huge: my wife says my cock is lovely and thick, but not
huge.  Anyway, it did my ego a world of good.  Fancy bedding a beautiful
and passionate woman and being told your prick is huge as you make love
with her!  We went on for quite some time, stopping if I threatened to cum.
After what seemed like a great while, I felt that my balls were going to
explode.  I stepped up the pace and when I didn't slow down I saw in her
face that she knew I was going to cum soon.  As I drove more forcefully
into her she began to meet my thrusts.  As I began to cum, she looked me in
the eyes and simply said.

   `Fill me with your cum Rod.'

   I needed no second bidding Martin, ramming deeply into your wife and
staying deep as I emptied into her.

   After some minutes I moved from her and lay beside her.  She curled up
beside me and told me again what a good lover I was.  She went silent for a
while and then saying that she didn't want to say too much out of loyalty
to you (strange that, after what we had just been doing) but wanted to say
something.  It was then she told me about you and your hang-up over your
small penis; she said there were other things as well which she didn't want
to go into.

   Evidently your penis is `small' whatever `small' means; being a man I
just had to ask `in comparison to mine for example.' She held up her hand
with thumb a finger about three inches apart.  In response, I pulled the
duvet back and pointed out that was about the same as my now flaccid penis.
She then said that that is the size of your penis when hard.  That explains
the flattering comments about my size, I thought.  I made a crude comment
about it's not the size that matters but what you do with it, which I
instantly regretted as a look of pain flashed across her face.  She said
she didn't have a hang-up about it, but you most definitely do Martin.  She
says it sometimes borders on an obsession and seldom does a day go by
without you mentioning it.  I wanted to ask (pry) as to how sex was with
you Martin but I didn't have the nerve.  You are getting into bed every
night with a woman who has the looks most women would kill for.  It
couldn't be a matter of not wanting you, and you clearly do get hard but
not hugely so.

   Why is she telling me this I asked myself?  I listened for a while and
have to say got a voyeurs thrill out of hearing the intimate details of
your love life.  As we lay there talking about your penis, your wife
started to stroke mine which felt good.  My cock stirred, becoming full but
not hard.  It felt good and I relaxed, enjoying the feeling.

   Paula said she felt better for talking and I wondered if she'd
off-loaded some guilt.  We lay there, her stroking my full cock and me
running my fingers through her hair.  Almost imperceptibly she stirred and
kissed my shoulder and then down to my nipples; how did she know I liked
that?  She still had hold of my cock as she sucked them and tickled them
with her tongue.  Effortlessly, she moved down and in one fluid movement
sucked my cock into her warm mouth.  I was stunned at the way in which she
did it, that she did it at all, and that my cock sprang into life for the
third time that afternoon.  She slowly sucked my cock to a respectable
erection; she ran her tongue along its underneath and scratched it lightly
with her teeth, which I found a real turn-on.  Every now and then she
plunged her mouth all the way down several times.  It is a wonderful
feeling as you know.  She kept this going for several minutes and I felt
myself approaching the edge; I just said her name, to warn her of my
cumming, but she ignored it and kept going.  My prick exploded, the first
jet of cum went over the side of her face and into her hair; she deftly
plunged her mouth fully over my prick.  It has been my most intense cum
ever Martin; I thought it wouldn't stop, I almost felt faint as my heart
raced.  It was absolutely wonderful.

   When I quietened down she drew my cock from her mouth and moved up
towards me.  I sensed what she was going to do and I wasn't wrong; she
kissed me full on the mouth, pushing my lips apart with her tongue,
allowing a flood of my cum from her mouth into mine.  We kissed
passionately passing my cum between us, making our lips slippery; I licked
it from her face and passed it to her.  She said what wonderful tasting cum
I had.

   After a while we lay together and talked about not much.  I said that I
should go.  Paula asked if we could be like this again soon.  I was
delighted and said we most certainly could.  She suggested that sometimes I
could come to your house and use your bed.  I suggested that with the
regular work journeys I did and the team-building events that the company
felt it had to do from time to time, that we could both get away on the
pretext of such an event.  You never questioned them and neither did my
wife.  If we were discreet at work we felt secure that nobody would think
anything untoward, for the obvious reason I'll tell you in a moment.

   Before I went to go, she offered me a shower, knowing it would be
difficult to go home with my thighs and pubic hair plastered in her love
juices and my cum.  So we showered (not keen on your choice of shower-gel
by the way Martin, and neither is Paula, you'll need to change it for us).
As we dried each other, she said that she'd love to bed me straight after
I'd been with my wife.  I was dumbstruck by this, and even more dumbstruck
by my reply.

   `I'd like to be with you soon after you've been bedded by Martin.' I
said.

   `I can try.' She said, and that was all.

   I dressed and we kissed good-bye.  I left you house with my briefcase
looking like a typical business man.  She waved me good-bye and shut the
door as I reversed into the road.  On the way home I pulled into one of
those car parks by a viewpoint which are quite common around this area, I
wanted time to compose myself before walking through my own door and seeing
my wife.  I couldn't believe my luck Martin, to have had such a wonderful
time with a beautiful woman who clearly wanted me when she could have
chosen anyone she wanted ...and a woman who is twenty years younger than me
at that.

   After a week or so, we arranged to meet again a few days later.  You
were going away overnight, Paula would `phone in sick on the day and I
would book as working from home in the company calendar so that there would
be no link between our joint absence.  Paula reminded me of our parting
conversation from our last time together, about our respective partners.  I
thought it may have been a post carnal thought, but evidently not.  She
reckoned you'd be gone by 10am but asked me to park some distance away down
the road and walk to your house.  If your red car was there, then wait `til
you'd driven off.

   I made my wife late for work by a combination of flattery, pampering her
and softening her up for a quickie (at which she it particularly skilled).
We had quick but satisfying time and my wife had to dash as she'd miss her
train.  I told her to use the bathroom first and go.  She did and left me
in my dressing gown with a sticky penis and drying love juice on my thighs.
My wife would be at work for the day so I was a free agent.  If the office
wanted to contact me, they'd do so on my company mobile.

   I washed (but not my penis) and shaved and drove to your road, a one way
street, parking just beyond the pedestrian crossing and on the opposite
side of the road to your house.  Your car was still there: I had
deliberately got there early.  I was going to do something cruel.  You may
remember it Martin?  After ten minutes or so, I saw you in my mirror leave
the house and get into your car.  As you reversed it into the street, I
reached behind me and lifted out my briefcase; I got out of the car.  My
timing was perfect, I walked to the edge of the pedestrian crossing as you
approached and you stopped to let me across.  I walked slowly across and
looked you in the eye as I raised my hand in thanks.  Under my breath, but
audibly, I said, `I'm just going to fuck your wife.' You raised your hand
and smiled at my thanks.  As I reached the opposite pavement, you drove on.
I was surprised how young you looked, and quite good looking at that; one
would never have known you have a little penis.

   I walked confidently up to your house and knocked on the door.  It
opened slightly and Paula peered around the edge as she stood behind it.  I
stepped in and saw that she was in her dressing gown (the lacy one you
bought her).  Her hair was tousled and had that `just got up' look, which I
soon knew she had.  She said she thought it was you come back for something
you forgotten.  We stood looking at each other.

   `I kept my part of the bargain.' I said.  She replied that she had
too...sort of.  We kissed and then she broke away and led me upstairs to
your bedroom.  On the landing, she dropped her dressing gown off her
shoulders and then off altogether, dropping it onto the chair as she walked
by (you'll become very familiar with that chair later Martin).  I followed
your wife's perfect arse into your bedroom.  The bed was drawn back; in the
centre of the rumpled sheets was a damp patch.  Wow, I thought, she did it.
She fell onto your bed and pulled the sheet over her.  I undressed as
quickly as I could and then moved to your side of the bed, my cock erect
and pubic matted with my wives juice.  I pulled the sheet back and moved
over her and we kissed deeply.  I nipped her neck and then her lovely
breasts and then down to taste her.  She half grabbed my hair but I pulled
away and carried on down.  As I got to her trimmed hair I felt a cold
wetness and a then a familiar scent of cum.  her trimmed hair was matted
with it, still wet and with dried cum on her upper leg.  I hesitated.

   `Martin has another problem.' I heard her say.

   It was certainly evident, on this morning at least, that you do have a
problem.  Not only a small penis Martin, but you have a hair-trigger
problem as well don't you?

   Paula muttered that she wanted to taste my wife on me.  I moved beside
her as she went down to by hard cock.  She licked my shaft and pushed her
tongue amongst my pubic hair.  She told me my wife tasted lovely, that she
could taste my cum and her juices mixed.

   `Describe your wife's pussy to me.' Paula asked me between sucks my
rampant prick.

   I did, telling her the most intimate details of the woman I been married
to for well over twenty years.  I felt no guilt whatsoever as I told her
what we had done together this morning, how she tasted, that she'd had a
quick orgasm and I given her a quick hard fucking and enjoyed a good cum.

   `Does she give you a blow-job?'

   `Yes.'

   Does she swallow?'

   `No.'

   `Does she cum when you fuck her?'

   `Seldom.'

   `Does she cum when you go down on her?'

   `Yes, always.'

   Then she asked, but while looking at and kissing my prick.

   `How many times has my lovely prick been unfaithful?'

   I hesitated.  She gently nipped the end between her teeth.

   `Three.' I gasped.

   `Naughty prick lying to Paula.' She said, and nipped the end harder.

   `Five,' I almost yelped, `five.'

   `Only love Paula now.' She said, and then took the whole of me in her
mouth.

   I started to cum and Paula let me empty into her mouth; it felt
wonderful.  We kissed as we had a few days before, swapping my cum to and
fro.  She then rose up and straddled my head; leaning forward she pressed
her pubis, still wet from your cum, into my face.  She smeared your
premature cum over my mouth and pressed it into my nose so that I could
breath in the scent of your cum at the same time as I tasted it.  I loved
the kinkiness of it.  I thought of you driving to wherever you were going.
I was certainly having a better time than you.

   I asked her, when you did manage to get it in, if the sex was good.

   `Oh, yes.' She said, `but not for long.'

   I said it must be frustrating for her.  She said it was - but she'd
found a way to get something out of it and give your pride a boost Martin.
Your wife bought you a strap-on dildo didn't she?  She said it was useful
after you had come or when you'd come over her before you got your
miserable little dick inside.  She showed it to me; very nice; I wonder why
she bought you a black one?  It is a good size too; I bet you feel very
manly when you wear it.

   We were hungry so got up and showered; whilst we were in there she
turned and kissed me; as she did I lifted her up and she wrapped her lovely
legs around my hips, her arms around my neck, her gorgeous slit against my
cock.  (I'm also stronger than you evidently, by the way Martin) As we
stood there kissing, I reached and turned off the shower; we stood like
that kissing in the silence after the noise of the shower.  I was an odd
feeling at first: initially a warm spreading sensation and then a
full-blown gush of hot liquid spraying over my belly; Paula was pissing
over us both.  It ran across my belly between us, over my cock, around my
balls and down both legs.  As it went on, she drew her head back and smiled
at me; it was the most erotic feeling.  Eventually she stopped; she smiled
again, `I thought we should try the rinse cycle' she said, and reached
across and turned the shower on again.  She said nothing more about it, as
if it was the most natural thing to do.  She turned off the shower and
stepped out; I dried her and she did the same to me, kissing my cock on the
way by.

   We went downstairs and ate toast and drank your coffee.  I was starving
and needed the energy.

   `You make some more coffee,' she said, `I'll be back in a few minutes.'

   She turned and I heard her go back upstairs.  I made coffee, poured a
cup and stood looking out of your garden window, marvelling at my luck.  I
heard her come back down the stairs, hesitated when she realised I wasn't
in the kitchen and then into the room where I had my back to her.

   `I hope you like black.' She said.

   I turned around.

   `My God.' I breathed softly.

   She stood there with her hair pulled up, emphasising her graceful neck.
She had on a tight, black basque which fitted closely down to her hips and
up to half cups supporting her breasts which swelled over the top.  From
where it ended at her hips, suspenders held up black stockings.  The
blackness of the basque complemented her light strip of pubic hair, so
recently matted with your cum.  She stood six inches taller in black patent
leather stiletto heeled shoes.  I have never seen a woman dressed like this
other than in pictures.  I was speechless.

   `Well?' she asked.

   I shook my head slowly from side to side.

   `Why me Paula?' I stupidly asked.

   She was silent for a few seconds.

   `Because I'm falling in love with you Rod.' She said and walked slowly
towards me.

   We kissed for a while and then she asked for a coffee, sat down with it.
It was bizarre, Paula sat there, sitting quite normally, in a basque, her
breasts spilling out of it and her wonderful slit fully exposed.  The
trouble was, I was beginning to fall in love too, but I didn't tell her.

   I offered her my hand and helped her off the chair and led her up the
stairs.  We spend the rest of the day making love generally, talking
between bouts.  her stockinged legs felt wonderful around my waist as we
made love; not `fucked' now Martin have you noticed, `made love' We were on
the slippery slope.  Towards the end, Paula asked me if there was anything
I'd like her to do for me.  I said that I felt her pubis would look super
shaved rather than trimmed.  Was there anything else?  I thought for a bit
about the thoughts on something I'd never done.

   `Go on.' She said, `say it.'

   `I'd love to make love to your gorgeous arse I said.

   She went silent.....`I'll give that some thought.' She said.

   As I drove home, I sincerely hoped she would.

   The last time we met was at a `team building event'; the team being just
us two.  The guy behind the reception desk looked at Paula and then me; his
look said `lucky bastard.' or was it `lucky old bastard?' He looked
admiringly at her legs, clad in tights/stocking which had a large mesh
about an inch across, the effect was as if her legs were wrapped in a layer
of a fishing net.  You recognise what I'm talking about, don't you Martin?

   Several things were memorable about that last time; looking back, I can
see now that she had been planning to get us to where the three of us are
now.  Clever woman your wife; we both walked straight into it.

   We went up to our room.  She'd promised to bring some clothing
especially for sex, but, `I don't want to wait.' She said.  I found out why
quite quickly.  She headed for the bedroom while I poured a drink; she
emerged in a couple of minutes, walking in as is it was a perfectly normal
thing to do....walking into a room clad from neck to toe in a body
stocking, the legs which I had seen earlier.  She looked stunning; the
stocking fitted her form completely, apart from the exposed crotch area. 
She had shaved completely.  Paula noticed my glance at her shaved mound.

   `Martin shaved me for you this morning' she said.

   I swallowed a mouthful of vodka in one.

   `I wore this for Martin this morning.' She paused.  `Take me to bed Rod'
she quietly asked.

   I walked to her and kissed her lightly, took her hand and walked her
into the bedroom.  I quickly stripped as she lay on the bed, her legs
slightly apart to give me a teasing view of her slit, moist even from where
I stood.  I lay straight beside her and kissed her breast where the hard
nipple poked through the mesh of the body-stocking.  She took hold of my
hair and pushed my head down.  I didn't resist.  My mouth went past her
slit and then upward toward it as she parted her legs; my tongue went
straight into her lips and I got a slippery feeling of something entering
my mouth; and then I tasted your cum.

   `Lick my husbands cum from my wet cunt, Rod.' Paula said with a slightly
hard edge to her voice, `Drink wimpy Martins cum from your lover.'

   I did, and went at it with enthusiasm, licking her clitoris between
times.  She came in a couple of minutes with, a massive groan and a flood
of love juice.  When she quietened, she pulled my head up to hers, grabbing
my prick and guiding it straight into her through the open crotch of the
body-stocking.  I wasn't gentle with her Martin.  I held her arms
outstretched either side of her and put the full weight of my lower body
onto my legs which were covering her.  Pinned down as she was, I roughly
rammed my prick into her with as much force as I could muster.  She loved
it Martin.

   `Fuck me my Rod; fill me with your huge prick Rod: fuck me like a proper
man Rod: rape me, Rod: hurt me, Rod, hurt me.' it went on and on.

   Speaking as I rammed into her, I said,

   `You fucking whore: fucking adulteress: unfaithful bitch: you deserve to
be fucked like a dog.'

   `Yes,' she said, `I do.'

   I pulled out of her and rolled off; I roughly turned her over and
dragged her to her knees.  She stuck her beautiful arse high into the air
and I smacked it hard.  She gasped; I smacked it again and then plunged my
prick into her now gaping cunt.  I fucked her hard, but not for long as I
felt my control slip away.  She gave a sharp intake of breath as I went
deep into her to cum.  I pulled back and let the whole lot go.  I came so
hard it hurt Martin.  Paula said, over and over again.

   'Fill me, fill me, fill me...' as I pumped cum into her.

   She collapsed under me and we lay still, she on her font with me lying
lightly along her back.

   `I love you Rod.' She said softly.

   I said that I was feeling much the same way, not falling in love with
Paula and out of love with my wife, just being in love with two people.

   `That sums up my feelings too' she said.  After a while she said, `Come
beside be, I want to tell you more about Martin.'

   I pulled out of your wife and moved beside her, turning on my back as I
did so.  She turned and lay in my arms.  I asked her what it's about?

   `Martin has started to say and suggest strange things.' She paused, `I
think he actually enjoys being like he is, small and an inadequate lover.
He's gets his kicks from feeling humiliated.'

   She paused, `Now it's becoming obvious.'

   `How?' I asked.

   She said, `When he cums before entering me, he goes on about how perhaps
I should punish him by strapping his arse with his belt whilst telling him
what a hopeless lover he is, and how he wouldn't blame me if I had a lover
to turn to and came home and made him eat my lover's cum out of me.'

   All a bit near this I thought.

   `Have you tried any of this?' I asked.

   `Yes.' She said, `it got a bit insistent so I gave it a try - he loves
it.'

   `Tell me' I said (a bit too eagerly I think)

   She told me about when you came over the sheets before you got anywhere
near her Martin.  You started to go on about being strapped, so she snapped
at you to lay face down on the bed.  She said that whilst she took the belt
from your jeans she noticed that you were trembling.  At first, she only
very lightly brushed you with the belt, but you very soon asked her to
strike your arse harder, which she did.  And then harder again; you
squirmed, your arse got redder and Paula felt herself getting wet.  As she
realised this, she saw that the cheeks of your arse were clenching
rhythmically; you were cumming again Martin, weren't you.  She stopped
strapping and looked down on you.

   `Fetch your dildo Martin.' She said, and up you got.

   Evidently you gave her the best fuck you'd given her for ages.  She said
you looked quite good with your black dick and your cum stuck to your
thighs.  She said how satisfied you looked to, as if you'd done a proper
job of it at last.

   She said that the belt gave way to a small cane and how you like to be
left with stripes across you arse.  Recently, now that you always cum ever
so early, she tells me that you cry and kneel asking for forgiveness, and
`please don't cane me.' but Paula does cane you, because that's what you
want really Martin, isn't it?

   By the time your wife had told me all of this, I'd got another hard-on.
Paula got up and went into the bathroom, returning with the small bottle of
skin lotion that hotels give you.

   `Lay on your back.' She said.

   I did, with my prick standing at a slight angle.  Paula sat beside me,
opened the bottle and squeezed out a good amount of the pink cream on the
tip of my knob: it felt cold and smelt quite pleasant.  She rubbed it
gently over the length of my cock and then some more until I was covered in
slippery lotion.  She squeezed a large dollop of it on the end and then
straddling and facing me.  She reached behind her, steadied my prick with
her fingers, and lowered herself until her arse engaged with the tip of my
prick.  She took her hand away, and started to impale herself on my prick.
I held my breath, willing myself not to cum; she had her eyes shut in
concentration.  She eased herself off and then back on a couple of times to
spread the lotion.  As she eased herself down more, she breathed in sharply
a couple of times.

   She stopped, `I can't do it Rod,' she said, `sorry, it hurts too much.'

   `It's alright,' I said, `it doesn't matter.'

   She kept saying sorry as she reached behind her once more and, looking
me in the eyes, slid her hand up and down my penis.  She help it against
the crack of her arse and buried it between the cheeks as I came.  It felt
bloody good Martin, cumming between the cheeks of your wife's perfect arse.

   We go up and went to shower together, but before we did, she made me sit
in the double bath.  She then stood astride me and pissed all over my chest
and legs.  Believe me Martin, it is so sexy.  We showered afterwards and
went down to eat.  The waiter and barman practically tossed off in public
as they ogled at her incredibly short skirt.  They gave me mixed looks of
envy and hate in equal measure.  They must have wondered what such a
beautiful woman could see in a man clearly very much older than herself.

   After dinner, we made love, slept some, woke up and made love again.  In
the morning we were late for breakfast (more dirty looks from the waiter).
We packed our respective bags.  Just before we were to leave the room;
Paula lifted her skirt, laid down on the bed, pulled her knickers to one
side and simply said.

   `Fuck me Rod, please, hard and quick.'

   I did!  She urged me deeper and locked her legs around me as I came.  I
rolled off and she reached for a tissue and placed it in her knickers.

   `Don't want to leak all over the place' she said.

   Now she had us both Martin.

   The rest you know.  You were pleased to see her home.  She enticed you
to bed, ensured that you came far too early (not difficult) and then asked
you to go down on her before she caned you for being `a naughty boy' When
you realised what you were tasting it was too late wasn't it Martin?  She
clamped her thighs around you head and expressed my cum out of herself and
into your mouth.

   `I've found a real man,' she said, `and I am going to tell you what I am
going to do about it.'

   You cried, and begged her not to leave you; she told you that she had no
intention of leaving, but from now on, things will be different for the
three of us.

   Evidently, your face was a picture!

   `Three of us?'

   `Yes,' she said, `three of us, now fetch your cane and come back with my
darling black penis on.'

   To be continued

   The author will be pleased to receive constructive comments or
criticisms at mr_blue_skies@hotmail.co.uk