Cuckold Confessions by DerekGrant
Cuckold Nigel
“I know you like him Beccy,” I said to Rebecca, my lovely Wife.
“Yes,” she replied. “He’s nice.”
“And handsome. And strong. And a good listener,” I continued.
“Yes! And?”
“You fancy him. Don’t you.”
Rebecca’s face turned the colour of a ripe tomato before she responded. “Of course I bloody well do! But I love you Nigel. You’re my husband. I couldn’t ever cheat on you.”
But I knew better. I had seen her and Jacko, my best friend, talking together at a party and it had been obvious to me that there had always been a deep attraction between them. As they had talked I could see that my Wife was showing all the usual body language signs of attraction. She held his gaze for long moments as they smiled warmly at each other. She had unconsciously licked her lips (a sure sign of a wet pussy), she touched his arm and as her nipples poked through her thin blouse she had pulled her chair even closer to him with her legs apart. My Wife was unconsciously (or not) telling my friend that he could have her, and he knew it.
Jacko, on his part, was clearly enjoying talking to his best friend’s Wife, judging by the prodigious bulge in his Chinos, but he had also sworn to me many times that he would never make a move on Rebecca. And I believed him.
I had loved Jacko as a brother since we were at school together and he had got me out of many a stupid situation with his size and strength and I had saved him a few times with my intuition and ability to organize. He was a dynamic natural leader and had been the captain of our school football team, and the reason for his ‘prodigious bulge’ had been the subject of many ribald jokes in the showers after the match. He had also been the Best Man at Rebecca and my wedding where, at the reception festivities later, he danced with and subsequently seduced Rebecca’s sister, Nicky and spent the night with her in his hotel room. Much to her husband David’s chagrin and, it must be said, to Rebecca’s annoyance.
A year later Nicky, as his Black Owned Mistress, had given birth to his child, therefore one could say that at this time he was very much part of the family. So it was a shock to us all, including Nicky’s cuckolded husband, when one evening at dinner at our house he announced that he was going back to stay with his parents St Lucia.
Although I had Rebecca, I knew that losing my long time best friend would be unbearably painful because I had no other pals. My affection for him was not a ‘gay’ thing, but he had been my constant companion (when he wasn’t enjoying Nicky’s pretty body) for all of that time. I felt distressed at the news – not that I intended to show my pain; that would be most unmanly – wouldn’t it?
“When are you going mate?” I asked, pretending unconcern.
“End of next month.”
There was no doubting Rebecca’s misery at the thought of Jacko leaving and I was finding it very difficult to hide my own. It was time for Rebecca and I to talk about the loss of our friend – and we needed to be honest.
“So how far are you prepared to go to keep him here?” I asked a tearful Rebecca one evening just a week before Jacko’s departure.
Her pretty face took on a determined look as she looked me directly in the eyes. “All the way,” she replied.
“Truly?”
“All the way! Whatever it takes,” she confirmed. “And what about you Nigel. Are you prepared for ‘whatever it takes’?”
She smiled triumphantly when I gave her answer.
I had to work fast, and I already had a plan in my head, which I kept to myself, before the night’s end; so the following morning I phoned Jacko to tell him that Rebecca and I were planning to redecorate our Lounge (it was true – we were). And, as usual, he volunteered to help.
“It’ll be warm work,” I said, as the weather forecast had been quoting a sunny day and high temperatures.
Rebecca, Jacko and me worked all day; scraping, rubbing, filling holes, painting and finally cleaning up; consequently by late afternoon we were tired, dirty, paint spattered and very, very sweaty. To his credit, Jacko had set to the task with enthusiasm and had heroically ignored (or tried to but I wasn’t fooled) Rebecca’s bouncing unrestrained breasts under her t-shirt and her shapely bottom under tight shorts that were little more than a thin pair of knickers. As you may imagine, it was all very informal.
“I’m off for a shower,” Rebecca said after we finally finished putting the furniture back into place, and subsequently left the room. Jacko, it must be said, looked longingly after her as she left, and that was the moment that I put my plan into action.
“Christ Jacko, you stink of sweat,” I said truthfully, “you need a shower too mate.”
“I will in a few minutes,” said Jacko, just as the noise of the powerful water pump could be heard from where we were standing.
“Why don’t you go up and join her,” I said noncommittally while trying hard to conceal the effects of my heart pounding like a base drum.
“Really?”
“Yes really,” I replied, “I don’t want the hot water to run out.”
“Won’t Rebecca object?”
“Maybe! We’ll soon find out won’t we.”
“I guess so! But are you really, really sure Nigel?” he asked.
“As sure as I have ever been Jacko.”
With that reply, he turned away and climbed the stairs to stand on the landing and remove all of his clothes before opening the door to the shower room and walk in – naked.
Jacko has never told me what Rebecca’s reaction was to her husband’s best friend walking into her shower room. I have often wondered whether it was shock, or pleasure that showed on her face when Jacko entered without knocking. But what I do know is that there was no scream of outrage, or her shouting for him to ‘get out’. All was quiet except for the shower pump that continued to run.
It must have been half an hour before I heard the pump switch off. Had my plan worked? The plan that I was orchestrating for my best friend to stay in my life and if that meant that I was to be cuckolded, then so be it.
Momentarily, I lost confidence in my wish for my best friend and my Wife making love upstairs. ‘Maybe they just washed each other’s backs,’ I thought to myself, only to have that idea blown away by the squeaking sound of the springs on our marriage bed being compressed above my head.
‘Maybe she is laying out some of my clean clothes for Jacko to wear,’ I thought while remembering that he was three times bigger than me in ‘everything’ that matters.
‘Rebecca is lying naked on my bed with her legs open and Jacko is going to penetrate her with his big dark brown cock,’ I realised, ‘and there is nothing I can do, or would want to do, about it.’
And then the rhythm section of my ‘orchestra’ started to play. Slowly at first, like a very good symphony, the springs of the bed creaked under the weight of love’s physical pleasures. There was no doubt that my lovely Wife Rachel had willingly opened her pretty long white legs for Jacko’s big member, and naturally, he had accepted her warm and open invitation.
Maybe, because they knew I was downstairs listening, they refrained from making any noise, that is until Jacko increased his rate of thrusting. And then the real music started. The music of passion and lust. The sweet-sounding notes of moaning and muffled screams came in beautifully and on time to the increased beat of Jacko’s rhythm. It was a melodic work of art and I sat directly below them in awe of the harmony of two people I care for finding love.