Loving a Cuck by bummerbeau,bummerbeau

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Lily agreed eagerly and suggested that a weeknight might be best, since lots of people go away on weekends. I drew up the proposed guest list.

Our four emails went out and drew immediate replies. Two of them were disappointing — the men said that they sympathized with Lily’s plight, would like to help out, but they were happily married. The other two responded with alacrity, said they hoped they could help Lily, and sent headshots. We didn’t need dick-pics since Cindy Harris had assured Lily that both were well-hung studs. Both proposed to meet us at some mutually convenient location, and we agreed on a coffee shop downtown. We’d recognize them from their headshots, and of course they had pictures of Lily. Separate meetings, of course, Wednesday and Thursday.

We arrived early on Wednesday, told the staff we were expecting someone, and we’d order when he showed up, and scored a small table in a secluded corner. Peter Roberts turned out to be an athletic-looking six-footer, clean-shaven, well-groomed, brown hair. He saw us, made his way over, sat down, introductions all around. Coffees ordered, then a pause…”So,” he began, “I learned a bit about you from your email, Lily, and I’m intrigued. Tell me more about yourselves.”

Lily took the lead. “We got the awful news several weeks ago that my husband’s prostate removal has almost certainly caused permanent erectile disfunction. Which means no more sex for him. Or me. This news came after months of waiting, hoping, without sex. I’m only 31, in the prime of my sexual life, and we have always loved having sex, sex of all kinds. The thought of a life without it is intolerable. We discussed options. Divorce is also intolerable, because it would deprive us of each other, and we love each other very deeply. Me being completely sterilized is also an awful option. Which leaves…” She left the thought hanging.

I continued, “which leaves us seeking other sexual partners for Lily. I’m completely agreeable to this because I want above all for Lily to be happy! We have a few conditions, but if we’re satisfied with those we hope to have mutually fulfilling and happy arrangements, short-term or long-term.”

Peter thought for a minute. “What are your conditions?” he asked.

Lily replied emphatically, “David and I want him to watch, and assist in any way he can, but I will not allow him to be ordered around, humiliated or belittled! He has been a totally satisfying, vigorous and fulfilling lover, and it’s not his fault that he’s become impotent.”

“Our only other condition,” I took up the conversation, “is that any of Lily’s lovers has to be tested for STDs. She’s on the pill, and she doesn’t like condoms, so her lovers must go bareback. That’s more pleasurable for everyone all around anyway. Always was for us.”

Again, Peter thought for a minute. “No problem testing for STDs — I get tested regularly, the last time being two weeks ago. I’ll send you the documentation. And I’m attracted to this, because I’m attracted to you, Lily — you’re an astonishingly beautiful woman, nice curves, and you’ve got lots of spunk!”

“Thank you for that lovely compliment, Peter! I’d also like to be clear,” Lily continued, blushing, “that when we are together, you are in charge. You can do anything you want with me, and I will do anything you ask of me. Anything. David will help in any way he can.”

The air was kinda charged after Lily’s declaration. After a moment, Peter declared, “the Renaissance Hotel — dinner next Wednesday at 7. Meet you in the bar for drinks at 6:30. And book a deluxe room — they have king-size beds. And shave your pussy.” With that he left.

The meeting the next day with Tom McBride, same coffee-shop, same time of day, same pack drill. Tom turned up right on time. He was a little shorter than Peter, just about my 5 ft 11-inch height. Blond hair, winning smile, warm handclasp. We went through all the same steps, and resulted in a set-up the following Friday, drinks, dinner, etc., at the Royal Connaught hotel. Whew! Twice in one week! — but then I remembered that Lily and I used to fuck three or four times a week, sometimes twice or more in a night, back in the day.

~~~~~~~

Outside Room 919, Renaissance Hotel. This was it, the moment that all our planning and preparations had led up to. I clicked the door card, opened the door, and stepped aside to let my wife and her — what? Lover? Bull? Fucker? — anyway, to let Peter enter with her, his hand on her lower back, guiding her, controlling her. I followed, and the door clicked behind me.

“W-would either of you like something to drink?” I asked, trying to break the ice.

“I’d like a cognac,” said Peter, “on the rocks. And get something for yourself — you’ll need to relax.”

Lily declined. As I busied myself at the mini-bar I observed Peter move in on Lily, enveloping her in a clinch like the one he had used on the dance floor downstairs. With a hand on each of her ass cheeks. She purred happily and wiggled within his arms.

“Here’s your drink, Peter,” I said, handing him his cognac and taking a large gulp of my neat Scotch. “Now, the rest of the evening’s in your control. Anything you’d like. You’re the boss.”

“Let’s start by stripping the bedclothes down. David, you take that side and Lily, you take this one.” Lily and I obediently moved, each of us grabbing a side of the bedspread, duvet and sheet, moving them down exposing the bottom sheet. Peter prodded the mattress. “Good, and hard.”

“We have far too many clothes on!” exclaimed Peter. “David, you undress Lily, and then Lily, you undress me, while David removes his own clothes. Then, when we’re all naked, I’ll lay out the program of action for the rest of the evening.”

Undressing Lily would be easy, I realized. I moved behind her and unzipped the side of her little black dress, and then I undid the bows of the spaghetti straps at the tops of her shoulders. As the second of these gave way her dress slipped down and pooled at her feet. Mission accomplished. She wore no underwear, and stood before Peter in her naked sensual beauty. I picked up her dress, folded it, and put it carefully away.

“Beautiful. Now Lily, will you undress me — that will take a little longer, I think.” Lily moved in, removed his tie, and began from the top to undo his shirt buttons. As she ministered to him, he ran his hands over every part of her, with special attention to her 36C breasts, which he kneaded and tweaked. I observed all this while I was undoing my own shirt, belt, button, and zippers. My clothes fell away. No erection to impede them. Peter watched as my trousers and boxers fell off me. “That’s a good-sized cock you’ve got there, David — looks like about 5 inches or more while soft. Pity it won’t get hard.”

Having done with Peter’s shirt Lily moved on to his belt buckle, button, and fly zipper. His trousers fell down revealing a huge bulge within his boxers. Lily folded his pants and took off his socks. “Last but certainly not least!” she exclaimed as she took the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down. “Wow!” she cried, as Peter’s cock leapt upwards and caught her on her chin. “Cindy said you were well-endowed, but this is fantastic!! Even maybe a little larger than my husband used to manage.”

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