4 comments/ 26665 views/ 2 favorites The Computer Course Ch. 01 By: ukresearcher This story is split into to two parts because the sections need to be posted in different categories. The first part describes how a middle aged married man enjoyed out of character but enthusiastic gay sex with a younger man. The concluding part I intend to post in Loving Wives because it deals with the aftermath when his wife finds out. * My name is Alan Martin, I am 49 years old and must admit that I probably look my age. I have reached the stage where I do not want to try too hard and am happy to sink into a lethargic life style. For the last twenty years I have been married to Helen and it is she who keeps me on my toes. A decade my junior Helen looks more than ten years younger than that and is also a seriously sexy lady. She is exceptionally attractive with a body to dream about -- but I shall not say more because she does not figure in my story. The only pertinent fact is that I am pretty certain that she has always used her extensive sexual talents exclusively for my benefit, which makes what happened to me incongruous to say the least. I have worked in computers for over twenty-five years and have developed my own area of speciality in which I am the acknowledged expert. I went on of lots of courses in my early years but for some time have avoided new training, not wanting to be apart from Helen -- and frankly because I could no longer be bothered. The trouble is that the whiz kids have come along with their new techniques and languages, and the things I am good at are becoming less and less in demand. Realising that I needed to make an effort, I deigned to peruse a list of available courses, which had already been kicking round the office for a good two weeks. To my surprise there was a one week course on a subject for which I had already a good grounding and this was an easy chance to prove that I could still go with the flow. To prevent myself from forgetting about it, I went straight along to the personnel department and asked to be put down for the course. I must point that I work for a large organisation which runs courses 'in house' at their own hotel in the south. The ensuing telephone enquiry on my behalf, gained the information that I was lucky in that there was still the one place waiting to be filled. That night, Helen was surprised about the course but fully understood the reason that I needed to attend. Next day, in the middle of the morning, I had an agitated request to go back to personnel and there I was told that my place had been double booked and that the other persons request had preceded mine. All was not lost because it was accommodation that was the problem and my rival had been given one of the few double rooms in the hotel. So -- if we were both prepared to share then I could still go on the course. I consented immediately and then had a tense couple of hours waiting to hear if the other chap was also agreeable. It was an unseasonably hot June Sunday that I travelled down on the train. By the time that I had made my way to the hotel from the station, booked in and unpacked, I was feeling both very sticky and more than a little weary. Intending just to take a half hour rest, I stripped to trousers and unbuttoned shirt and lay on the bed reading the Sunday newspaper that I had acquired in the lobby. After twenty minutes my roommate put in an appearance. He looked in his late thirties, quite good looking with tight curly blonde hair. He walked straight over to me with his hand outstretched and said, "Hi, I'm Dave." Then before I could tell him my name he continued, "Why haven't you got the air conditioning on -- it's like a Turkish bath in here?" "I tried. The damn thing is on the blink - reception have promised to send someone to fix it," I reported. "Shit, I am going to be just a lump of grease if I don't get this kit off," he cursed and forthwith denuded himself of every scrap of clothing. Now I am a naturally shy person and in any state of undress, I will automatically turn to face the nearest wall, no matter what the company. My companion had no such inhibitions, for he padded about happily unpacking as if nakedness was the most natural state in the world. Rather fascinated, I surreptitiously watched while pretending to be engrossed in the newspaper. Now although, my face is no longer youthful, physically I am not in too bad shape, largely because Helen and I like to do a lot of countryside walking most weekends. I was however, not a patch on this chap. His body was lightly tanned, (all over), and his muscles were nicely taut and toned as if he worked out -- or played squash I surmised thinking that I recognised the type. I have to admit that I also looked at his dick. This was pure curiosity because all my life I had never seen another besides my own. There must have been times at school in the showers when I had been in the company of naked males but I have absolutely no recollection from then. From what I could see, his prick was bigger than mine and in a way looked neater -- rather Greek god like, as portrayed on statues. Feeling that he was aware of my scrutiny, I concentrated on the newspaper and was startled to sense him by the side of my bed. Glancing sideways I was confronted with his penis in front of my eyes, resting in a nest of curly light coloured hair very like that on his head. Women's bodies have always attracted me so much that I often thought men gained most from the opposite sexes visual appeal but now I could suddenly see what women got out of the deal. Dragging my eyes upward, I found that he was holding an open packet of cigarettes towards me. "I don't thank you," I said but then, feeling rather embarrassed I pointed to a partly concealed magazine lying on his bed I asked, "Is that what I think it is?" "Yes it is and a good one," he grinned. "I am glad to see that you're a man after my own heart." With that he flicked it across to me. It was as I thought a pornographic magazine but I was in for a disappointment because I had already seen the damn thing. Considering the thousands of such magazines in circulation, I wondered what the odds were of coming across the same one in places over 100 miles apart. I still looked through it and gained enjoyment but would have become engrossed for longer if the pictures had been new. Dave had unpacked a short, thigh length towelling bath robe, slipped it on and was spending some time seeing if he could have better luck with the air conditioning. Finishing the magazine, I called out, "I don't suppose that you have got another of these." "I have," he called back, "but I am not sure if it will be to your taste." I laughed. "It takes a lot to shock me. What is it -- really kinky?" "No just gay." "Dig it out. I might as well learn how the other half lives," I said with a touch of bravado. It was rather disappointing that it was not bestiality or something like that but I seemed to be suddenly in the kind of mood where anything sexual was worth looking at. I have already said that I had previously read the first magazine but that does not explain why the second aroused me so much more. There were several series of pictures set in different locations with most featuring three males, mostly on the young side but some including an older man. There were six, four or two pictures per page. The first set had three naked youths in a kitchen sucking each other's stiff dicks if different combinations and the second was situated in a cinema with one youth bent over the seat sucking off a second while being anally fucked by a father figure. The opening picture of the third series showed two young men doing sixty-nine but then interrupted to answer the knock of the mailman, who then enters the scene. Very soon one guy had the newcomer's cock out and the series continued with the mailman now stripped and joining enthusiastically in the oral activities. The set finished with one lad fucking the other with him in turn being stuck up the mail delivery man bending over in front of him I was rather glad that the magazine resting across my lap concealed the effect that viewing these male only activities was having on me. Dave, having abandoned the air conditioning unit, wandered across to the side of my bed and stood looking down as I slowly turned the pages. As I passed the half way mark, he half perched on the right side of the bed saying, "There is a really good one coming up." Soon after, the whole left hand page was taken up by one picture. It showed a youth lying naked on his stomach with head looking up towards the camera. Between his legs there was an older man who very obviously had his cock hard up inside the younger man's anus. The youth's face was contorted in what could have been either ecstasy or agony. "Who says that they don't like it up em?" Dave laughed, reaching past me to tap the picture. I glanced sideways to join in the laughter and froze because my companions reaching movement had caused the front of his robe to fall apart, exposing a very erect penis. My first reaction was to look up at Dave's face expecting him to give an embarrassed laugh and quickly cover himself. Instead he looked at me with a funny kind of half smile on his face but apart from that did not move. My eyes fell back to his cock. It was beautiful. A good seven to eight inches in length (possibly slightly longer), thick, symmetrical and looking so perfect. The head had a dark reddish tinge and there was a sheen on the tight skin. For a long long moment that seemed to last forever, we formed a frozen tableau but then, acting of its own volition, in slow motion my hand reached out and I watched my fingers close round the shaft. It felt hot, alive and vibrant causing a thrill to run right down my arm. For some time I was content just to hold it like that, feeling the pulses throbbing beneath my fingers but then I began to slowly move my hand up and down in a caressing motion. A glistening globule of pre-cum oozed out of his slit. I was holding his dick in a perpendicular position and gradually the globule grew until it looked like a hemispherical glowing gem balanced on the end of the prick. I was fascinated by it and was idly wondering in which direction it would run when Dave said softly, "The nectar of the God's." With that thought in mind, I could not let it run and risk losing one drop of the precious fluid. Leaning forward I scooped it up with the tip of my tongue. That sweet man dew was indeed nectar. It inflamed my brain. I wanted more -- so much more. Taking his cock into my mouth I attempted to drain it from the source. I was aware of a slightly sweaty male smell from the area of his groin -- where before I would have found it revolting now it seemed the most heady aroma that I had ever experienced. After a while the madness eased and I was able to think about what I was doing. It seemed so natural -- so right. It was crazy -- for almost half a century no non-heterosexual thought had ever crossed my mind and yet suddenly I was happily sucking the penis of a man that I had met less than an hour before. The tip of my tongue found his slit and started to explore it with a slight extra stiffening of his whole penis showed that he liked it. I kept returning to that small activity, enjoying the effect that I could cause. A couple of times I removed the whole cock from my mouth to lick slowly round the rim but both times the sight of that big bulbous head, glistening with the mixed sheen of saliva and cum-juice, caused me to take it hungrily back in my mouth again. I knew when he was going to cum. A little before the climax, Dave's breathing changed and he rested his hand lightly on my head. There was no thought of pulling my head away - I wanted what was to come straight from his body into my throat. Immediately before the moment, his cock stiffened and seemed to swell in my mouth. And then I was madly swallowing, my mouth was overflowing with cum and more seemed to be pumping out of him every second. On the basis that the other was nectar then this had to be the elixir of life. I have no memory of the taste or texture that first time, my only awareness being the effect that it had on me. If drug addicts get a similar high from their hits then I can now well understand addiction. Eventually I lay back on the bed with my eyes closed. I was floating, in limbo, almost on the verge of passing out and I knew that I was breathing heavily as if hyperventilating. Dave's hands were stroking, calming me. Then I felt his lips and teeth on one of my nipples and fingers nipping the other. New tremors triggered through me. It was the first time I realised that male nipples were capable of sexual excitement. One sensation seemed to follow another. My jaw hung open and I heard myself moaning. Then suddenly, his tongue was in my mouth, urgent, probing and it took me over the top. Shudder after shudder wracked through my body and in that moment of new experience, I felt myself shooting my own load of spunk into the confines of my pants. I slowly opened my eyes and found Dave smiling at me. "Welcome aboard," he said. Although I smiled back I could think of nothing to say. What could I say -- 'How was it for you?' I had never visualised myself in a situation like this. He gave me a nudge. "Come on. We need to take a shower -- especially you I think." "You go first," I told him. I wanted to just lie and think -- and relive the experience in my mind. "Nonsense. It is a nice big shower -- we can both fit in together." Reluctantly, I started to comply but on noticing that his prick was stiff again, I made a grab for it hoping more of that lovely stuff would be on tap. He avoided me laughing. "Don't be greedy," he chided. "You can have all of that you want -- but later." In the shower we mucked about, soaping each other and laughing. I had often done this with Helen, never dreaming it could be just as much fun with a man. We reached a position where he stood behind me, reaching round to build up a lather on my nipples and I could feel his hard stiff cock digging into me. Suddenly I had a desperate craving for something that I had never had. I wanted to be the youth in the picture. Reaching back, I found his penis was slippery with soap, so I grabbed hold and tried to ram it into me. Dave stopped me. "That is silly," he said. "Never use soap as lube -- it will make you terribly sore. It could put you out of action for the whole week and that would never do. If that's what you want, then we will do it slowly and properly - remember we have got all night. Right now, we will go to the restaurant and grab something to eat then find the other blokes on the course before they come looking for us." During the eating of a very pleasant meal and immediately afterwards, we identified our seven fellow course students for the week. Four of them were the usual whiz-kids, early twenties, brash, overconfident and with accelerated promotion written all over them. Three worked together at the same division of the organisation and the fourth had graduated with them at university -- so they formed a ready-made clique. Two of the others were older men in their sixties, from high level management and were on the course to gain the credit not the knowledge -- it possibly also enhanced their pensions. The seventh was the odd one out. Called Chris, he was early thirties and very tall, (possibly around 6' 6"), and he was also very thin. It did not take me long to realise that I disliked him intensely. It was his manner that irritated me. He possibly thought that his obsequiousness was being friendly but I felt that he was constantly trying to ingratiate himself. Most people have an instinct about invading another's personal space but to Chris this was a foreign concept -- so I always felt crowded whenever he managed to engage me in conversation. After the meal, all nine of us retired to the bar and got to know each other. By ten o'clock, I felt that civilities had been satisfied allowing us to go back to our room. Needless to say, I was more than a little eager. It was eleven (when the bar closed), before everyone broke up and the frustrating part was - Dave was the one who had kept the evening going. When we were alone, I remonstrated with him about this. "We have got to be careful," he warned. "Never appear too eager to get off alone together -- and it might be an idea, when the course splits into project groups, never to get on the same team as each other." I was hoping to just lie on one of the beds with him and get to it but Dave was far more laid back (or realistic) about it. That was fine for a quickie he said but all night in the heat without air conditioning was liable to get far too sweaty. We did try pushing the beds together but they seemed to be bolted in some way to the floor. However, on inspiration and after some struggle, we found that the mattresses were removable and rather fortuitously fitted exactly, side by side, in the space between the two bed bases. Then we lay down together. I started sucking him again - because he was very stiff and it was there. I had intended this as just a preamble to the main event but he came in my mouth very quickly. This was again very enjoyable although it did not have the same devastating effect on me as before but I was also rather disappointed, thinking this would mean a long delay before he would be ready again to introduce Fagin to me. I was to find that he had the most amazing power of recovery and the ability to cum time and time again with little decrease in his resilience. He got me lying face down with my hips resting on a pillow and after initial caresses started applying KY Jelly to my anus. Gradually he worked one, two and then three fingers inside me. At first this felt strange and uncomfortable but quickly developed into an extremely pleasant sensation and I became eager for the real thing. By this time he was more than ready to perform and positioned himself between my legs. I cannot say that it didn't hurt because initially there was an excruciating feeling of pain but the sensation that gradually replaced it was incredible. I very quickly decided that I loved being fucked. At first he took it slowly, allowing me to acclimatise to having him inside me but very soon I was urging him on with cries of, faster, harder, deeper. That night we did it over and over again in many different positions but then it was like that whenever we were alone together. In that short time I had become totally besotted by his wonderful cock and I had an image of it in my mind every waking minute. It is difficult in retrospect to differentiate that night from the many times later in the week. I rather liked Dave lying flat on his back while I crouched above him and willingly impaled myself on his erect pole. The favourite was lying relaxed, face to face, with him inside me and his hard demanding tongue probing in my mouth. At his suggestion, I licked his arse and wiggled my tongue inside him. I grew to love doing this small service for him because the heavy musky aroma made me delirious and the knowledge of what I was doing was incredibly arousing. A bonus was that afterwards, his prick seemed even longer and thicker than usual. That first night, I think that he screwed me sometime after I had fallen asleep -- it was either that or I had a most delightful dream. In the morning, I awoke and found him lying with a sheet draped loosely across his torso but with lower quarters exposed. Taking advantage, I sucked him erect and went on to have an early drink and so established a regular morning ritual. Then it was a matter of restoring the two beds to how they were supposed to be and going downstairs to the restaurant for the official breakfast. The course started and I found it interesting. A constant irritant was Chris who wandered from desk to desk asking questions but seeming to hover more around me than the others. He had a most annoying habit of crouching by the side of the desk, back straight and looking exactly a preying mantis. Over the years I have learned to overlook surface mannerisms and not to go on first appearances but this principle did not work with Chris -- the man made me cringe. After we had taken a quick lunch, with just over half an hour before the course resumed, I whispered to Dave, "Let's go to the room for a quickie." I really wanted it badly. My rectum ached with the need to have him inside me and I thought even a few minutes might ease the craving. My lover quickly indicated his willingness to oblige but at the stairs, Chris collared us. The Computer Course Ch. 01 "Hey you two. I have found a dinky little putting green behind the hotel, It's a gorgeous day -- so why don't you join me for a quick round?" We had no choice but to go with him. In the early afternoon we split into two project teams to work independently on the same hypothetical problem. The four younger men made a natural grouping and, following our plan, Dave attached himself to them. This left me with the two older blokes and the dreaded Chris. The two management men, immediately took control and started approaching the problem using management principles. I felt that they were starting on the wrong track and tried to say so, but just when I wanted Chris on my side, he chose to support the big guns. To cut a long story short, it was 10 o'clock before we switched to my way of solving the problem and just after midnight when we finally came up with an adequate solution. I went to our room to find, that Dave had single handed manoeuvred the mattresses into position and was now lying asleep upon them. By this time, I was absolutely knackered and very tensed up. "What kept you? Our team had it all wound up before seven thirty," he wanted to know. Despite my need, I was really past it and Dave having spent the evening waiting in the bar, as a measure of his own frustration had consumed far too much alcohol. We did screw but it was really only going through the motions. The morning course session was again instruction. While rather rushing our lunch, Dave and I decided to sneak back to the room, taking care to avoid Chris. We almost made it. My key was actually in the door when a voice behind us said, "There you are. I've been looking all over for you two. Are you coming to finish the putting?" With rather bad grace we followed him outside. This time, when the test project for the day was given in late afternoon, it was for work to be done in pairs. Dave and I quickly declared ourselves as a team, grabbed the test criteria and headed out of the room, neatly avoiding Chris who was obviously hoping to attach himself to us. On the way up to out room Dave glanced inside the folder and with satisfaction declared, "Thought so. I was tipped off about this one. I know the answer and there is absolutely nothing for us to do." As soon as we were in the room, I stripped off and flung myself on the bottom of the bed with my legs hanging over the end. Due to the extra purchase Dave could get from having his feet on the floor, this was far the best position for a short sharp shag. "Fill me please," I pleaded. "I have had this burning itch all afternoon and only having you inside me can soothe it." Dave was eager to comply but he had not been at it for more than a minute when there was a tapping on the door. "Shit," he cursed, pulled out, slipped on the short robe from his bed and went to answer it while I simply jumped naked under the covers of the bed. I heard a voice that I recognised to be Chris but could not decipher what he was saying. 'Get rid of him,' I prayed but the next moment Dave said clearly. "You had better come in." As they advanced across the room he explained, "Chris has guessed that we are having a bit of fun together -- I think that we can fit him in as well." As he spoke my friend indicated that I should resume my previous position. Feeling rather awkward I did so but Dave showed no sign of embarrassment as he slid himself back into me. To Chris he said, "I had started so I am going to finish -- you will have to wait for your turn." Looking sideways, I saw that the unwelcome guest to the party had lost no time in getting rid of his clothes and was sitting in a chair watching and fondling an already stiff penis. The prick looked just like the man -- very long and very thin. For whatever motive, after two or three minutes, Dave change his mind and called out, "On second thoughts there is room for you at the front. I am sure that Alan will be happy to oblige." The next moment, the preying mantis was hutching himself down the bed towards me with legs splayed and obscene looking dick bouncing grotesquely before him. I had to force myself to open my mouth and let him put it inside. It was an unpleasant experience. Had Chris been content to just let me suck it might have been all right, but from the start he seemed intent on getting it right down my throat, constantly causing me to gag. Fortunately the ordeal was not of long duration because our unwelcome guest was over aroused and squirted his stuff into my mouth within a matter of minutes. Even here, in contrast to Dave's thick creaminess, the tall mans semen was more watery and stringy with a far from pleasant flavour. Had Dave's cock not been still up my arse, I would have dashed to the bathroom and spat it out but in the circumstances had to swallow as if it was the worst kind of medicine. Meanwhile my lover just kept humping away in the slow and steady rhythm that I found he can maintain for hours. Chris returned to the spectator's position in the chair, from where he sat watching us. After a while, Dave changed to more flamboyant sex, pulling well out then slamming home and I quickly realised that he was putting on a show for the gallery. It must have looked good because I saw the intruder's long ungainly organ quickly regain its earlier stiffness. As if on this cue, Dave had a quick orgasm and removed his penis from my bowels. Chris was out of the traps like a greyhound, almost tripping up in his eagerness to fill my vacant hole. How is it that you can enjoy being buggered by one man and loathe the experience when committed by another. Perhaps it is due to my instinctive dislike of Chris but there is a chance that I am being unfair to him. His dick was longer than Dave's and so went further in. It kept poking against some part of me in a way that caused discomfort even pain but he kept thrusting in just the same way even though my involuntary flinching must have told him that he was hurting me. Again I did not have to suffer for long. The moment that he pulled out, Dave moved forward eagerly. "Your turn Chris sweetheart, I've been hoping for this since the first day of the course. Come on, get your arse in the air - let the dog see the rabbit." The tall man backed away in consternation. "I didn't realise - I thought...." he flustered. "It's turn and turn about here, I thought you knew," Dave grinned. "Well yes I did but I've got to go. I only slipped away from the others for a few minutes - there is still the course project to finish." Chris was still retreating, feeling about blindly for his clothes. "Pity," Dave commiserated. "Never mind - you can be first in line next time." Chris nodded wildly as if in agreement but scrambled into his clothes as fast as possible and left the room at great speed. "We won't be bothered by him again," Dave told me with great satisfaction. "It's all right for you," I complained ruefully. "I was the one who had to put up with him." "Don't gripe - it couldn't have been that bad. Anyway - if you are going to carry on with your new hobby then you'll have to learn to take the rough with the smooth." "His cum tasted vile - it had a kind of fishy flavour." "Figures. In the restaurant he eats nothing but sea food." While speaking, Dave had placed his arm comfortingly round my shoulders but this was only to urge me back into my previous position face down over the end of the bed. Arranged to his satisfaction I felt the hard stiff prick with which he had threatened Chris, reintroduced to my eager anus. Before abandoning myself to the delightful sensation of his flesh moving inside me, I harked back to his previous remark. "What do you mean 'carry on with my new hobby'? This is something that I only do with you - something about you makes me want to do what I never even thought of doing before I met you." "Don't you believe it," Dave told me confidently without breaking rhythm. "You like it too much to give it up when I'm not around. Look at you now - you can't get enough." He was right. Dave raised me to a plateau of sexual sensation that I had never experienced with my wife, no matter how fulfilling our marital sex life had been. I could not imagine that this might be it for the rest of my life. For that moment and for the next two days I managed to put that panic inducing thought from my mind. I abandoned myself to the pleasure of being fucked for the rest of that evening and at times during the night. He had me in countless different positions and my mouth and tongue became intimately acquainted with every inch of his body. The next night was the same and our last night together even more so. His cock was up me for virtually the whole night. Actually we overdid it to the extent that I could hardly walk the next day and even when arriving home had to use the excuse of a trapped nerve. Even though we only fell asleep shortly before dawn, I woke instinctively in time to perform the morning fellatio ritual. As I finished and stood up licking my lips I found that Dave was grinning at me. "I'm really going to miss that in the mornings - you real are a glutton for the old ball juice." "I was wondering about the future," I said hesitantly. "This doesn't have to be the end. Occasionally at weekends we could meet at a hotel somewhere. I could easily pretend that it had to with work - a seminar or something." "I'm afraid that I can't Alan. This week has been great and I have loved every minute of it but this has got to be it. Store it up as a glorious memory like I'm going to do. If you want more of this kind of fun, find someone nearer home - there are plenty of gay and bi-sexual men around." "But..." I began but then could not continue. I had felt sure that he would agree to something and his rejection made me feel uncharacteristically emotional. "Alan, lover - old mate. This week has been special but if we try to prolong it, we can only spoil it. Think of the lies and deceit. If we arranged to meet things would always start to go wrong. Weekends would be aborted because of some snag at one end or the other and that would lead to futile waiting and anxiety. Apart from anything else, how are we going to communicate to arrange liaisons." Standing up he placed a hand on my shoulder. "If you are honest with yourself, all that you need is a male body. Believe me there are better bodies than mine out there - and bigger cocks, if that interests you." I tried to put a brave face on it. "You just dropped into my lap," I said, "I just don't know how to start looking for a replacement. "If I remember correctly," he smiled, "It was you who dropped into my lap." After that we finished packing our bags before going down to the lobby. We did not touch again apart from shaking hands as part of the hand shaking ceremony with other course members. Helen welcomed me home with a loving kiss and my two teenage kids deigned to say "Hi Dad," as they passed me on their way out. I'm pleased to say that my wife likes her regular supply of sex and I could tell that she had expectations when we went to bed. I used my trapped nerve as reason to be excused but instead of waiting until the following night, she started to shuffle seductively down the bed. I am ashamed to say that I fell asleep before her lips even touched my dick. We made up for it the next morning, then Saturday night and Sunday morning. My week of alternative sex had certainly increased my appetite and that same period of abstinence had given Helen a hunger that was hard to satisfy. I enjoyed reverting to being the one who did the fucking and at the end of a week of passionate sex every night it was hard to remember that I had filled any other role. I revelled in my willing wife's lush body and all my heterosexual instincts came rushing back to the fore. It was three weeks after I returned home that I first got the burning itch in my anus. The first thought was that Dave had given me something nasty and I had visions of making a secret but humiliating visit to a VD clinic. It got worse but I put off seeking medical attention. I continued to have sex with Helen on the principle that if I was going to pass on any infection, she would have got it already. I felt very guilty but about the possibility of having passed on a sexually transmitted disease rather than the things I had done with Dave - strangely I felt very little guilt at all about that. On the fourth night of my affliction, unable to sleep because of the intolerable internal itching, with Helen snoring beside me, I wet two fingers and pushed them inside my anus. It helped immediately but I had to force them in as far as I could before I found true relief. I knew then that, rather than being infected, my body was simply craving what it had learned to need. After that, whether I had screwed Helen or not, I had to do the same thing to ease the itch. Many nights I fell asleep with my fingers in place and it became a morning habit to scrub the discoloration from my fingernails. I thought about Dave a lot and sometimes when fingering myself I pretended - well you know what I pretended. In the street, I found myself looking at men and wondering when previously my gaze had unerringly sought any attractive female within range. The danger signal was the first night when I was so overwhelmed by a craving for male sex that my wife's voluptuous charms failed to arouse me. In desperation, I bought a nine-inch salami and while pretending to take a bath, rammed it up myself. This did still the body craving for days at a time but my mind was constantly active with memories of my five nights away from home. I took up cruising or is it cottaging? Odd lunchtimes from work and evenings when I had a legitimate reason to leave the house, I went out looking for public conveniences in the belief that there was where it was all happening. Most were boarded up but one in the local park was still in use. I had no idea what to do so simply stood at the urinal a long time while people came and went. I dare not approach anybody in case I made a dreadful mistake and no men approached me for no doubt the same reason. I felt that there must be some signal that I should be giving but I had no idea what it was. I did start feeling optimistic because I saw faces that had been in more than once and some looked at me in more than a casual fashion. Then I read in the local paper that a gang of 'queer bashing' skin heads had badly beaten a man in the park and I dare not return there again. So I moved on to plan B. Using the pretence that I was having a night out with a friend, I went to the notorious gay club in town. When I say 'to' I mean that I took up a vantage point nearby to spy out the lay of the land. Now had the clientele appeared as normal as I believed myself to be, I would have entered like a shot and perhaps had all my problems solved. Unfortunately, almost all the people that I watched entering, both male and female, seemed anxious to advertise their deviant sexual orientation. I gathered, possibly wrongly, that the club was for those following an exclusively gay lifestyle and not for part time players like myself. My next resort was the Internet. Up until then I had used the external connection on my PC exclusively for sending and receiving E-mails. I started scanning for pornography. I searched on a gay key and skipped from web page to web page looking at the free sample pictures. Actually I did better looking at the cocks of men engaged in straight sex because those sites were both more explicit and more generous in pictures offered for free viewing. Then almost by accident I came across a site offering gay stories rather than pictures. I downloaded a great number of these tales and spent many hours pleasurably reading. I found great difficulty relating to the majority and got more out of the stories which were possibly true rather than the obvious fantasies. Some really excited me and I stored these in a hidden archive, deleting the rest. It was only gradually that the idea came to put up my own experience. I have spent two weeks composing it, but here it is. I hope that I will get some kind of come back from it. [ Above is the story as referred to in the section that follows. It never did get on the Internet until now.] The Computer Course Ch. 02 The first part of this story describes sexual activity between a middle aged husband and a younger man. It can be found in the Gay Male category. THE COMPUTER COURSE -- AFTERMATH I arrived home from work at the usual time and not seeing my wife around, I poked my head into the kitchen to be greeted by a most delicious aroma. Helen was busy tipping sliced vegetables into a pan. "That smells good, and I'm famished" I said happily. "How long have I got before you serve it out?" "I'm doing your favourite. I hope that you will still feel like eating when it is ready," she told me mysteriously. "Half an hour?" I guessed the answer to my unanswered question. When confirmed that I had the usual leeway I went upstairs to switch on my PC. It had become my habit to spend this period checking on my E-mail. The normal pattern was disrupted when I found my screen saver flickering on the screen but I just assumed that I had forgotten to switch off the previous night. However, on touching the mouse, I found that a file had been opened. The title blazed out at me -- 'The Computer Course'. I went cold all over because I knew for a fact that I had not accessed the file for over two weeks. A noise from the door made turn to see Helen casually leaning against the wall watching me. "Is it true?" she asked. "No -- of course it isn't. I made it up. It's just a story," I blustered. Helen nodded. "Just a story?" "Yes -- just a story," I confirmed with what I hoped was a casual laugh. "All the product of your imagination?" I just nodded, congratulating myself on having weathered the storm. "That does give rise to another question," she said quietly. "What inspired you to write such filth? How long have you been thinking about that kind of thing? Have you been a secret homosexual all of our marriage and finally felt driven to put your foetid fantasies into words?" "No," I stammered answering only the last of her questions. "There are only two alternatives. Either you have put a great deal of thought into doing that sort of thing or the story is true and it was something that just happened. I think the first is far worse." "The story is true," I confessed. "I am not going to ask any questions -- heaven knows, you have left little enough to ask. I'm going back downstairs, your dinner will be out in five minutes." At the door she paused and added, "Don't even consider deleting that file -- I have printed some copies whatever you do." Glancing at the paper hopper of my printer with a feeling of despair, I estimated that there were now probably four hard copies of my shame in existence. During these few minutes of grace, I tried desperately to devise a strategy but the best I could manage was to keep my head down and be as obliging as possible until it all blew over. At the dining table, Helen asked how I intended to spend the evening and I reminded her that the computer game I had ordered was amongst the items of that morning's postal delivery. "If you think you are going to be playing with that then you have another think coming," she told me flatly. "I want you where I can see you -- not upstairs sending E-mails to your pervert friends and scanning the internet for pornography." "Honest, I don't do that. I only want to tryout the game." "Forget it because I have other plans for you. You are going to spend the evening doing all the house work that you have only pretended to do over the years." "I'll do anything you say," I muttered humbly. "You will if you want to stay married to me. The galling thing is that I have always been loyal to you and it has not always easy. When I think of the chances that I have had -- and with men whose prick is a damn sight bigger than yours." "How do you know that?" I ventured foolishly. "That's for me to know and you to worry about," she said smugly. I remained silent but Helen continued, "On second thoughts, if I leave it like that your devious mind will work out some justification for your gross behaviour. I can say that I have never done anything to be at all ashamed about." As Helen had anticipated, my appetite had deserted me and I merely toyed with the food on my plate. Clearing the dishes she observed, "You should have made most of that because it is the last favourite meal or even hot food that I will prepare for you. In fact you are not going to get anything that you like for a very long time. I am going to really punish you. You are going to find out exactly how much your escapade has upset me." As promised I spent the evening scrubbing and polishing, with my wife constantly checking that I had done it to her satisfaction. I wondered how long this purgatory would continue before I had expiated my sin -- or she became bored of punishing me. A week? a month? -- even then I realised I was getting off lightly because I had delivered perfect grounds for divorce. In the bedroom later, instead of getting straight into bed, Helen put on a fashion show for herself, trying on the various items of erotic underwear that she had accumulated over the years, and admiring herself in the mirror. Just watching I became incredibly aroused. I just hovered, afraid that I was to be banished to the guest room and not daring to get into bed without permission. The finale came when she stood in front of me completely naked, cupped her breasts in her hands and jiggled them as if weighing a pair of melons, then observed. "Not bad, even though I say it myself. I'm sure that there must be some man somewhere who will still fancy them." "I still fancy them. I fancy you as much as I ever did. Nothing has changed," I said eagerly. "Hasn't it?" Her tone voice was ambiguous. It might have been uncertain as if needing reassurance or it might have contained an icy resolve. I optimistically opted for the first interpretation. It was obvious -- she was afraid that I had become totally bent and needed to know that I still desired her as a woman -- hence the flaunting of her body in front of me. I smiled secretly to myself -- everything was going to be all right. In bed I rolled to her and grasped her breast, seeking out the nipple between thumb and forefinger with the intention of working the old magic. "Take your filthy hands off me," she hissed. "I don't know where you've been." There was a pause and then said, "No -- the trouble is that I know exactly where you have been." Severely chastened I lay silent. I continued lying like for along time until Helen's steady breathing suggested that she was asleep. My prick was still very stiff and it was beginning to ache intolerable. I started to stroke myself, not really masturbating, rather just seeking to ease the pain. "Keep your hands off yourself as well," came a voice out of the darkness. "I very nearly made you wear gloves. I'm warning you -- if there is any more movement from your side of the bed, a wet patch on the sheet in the morning or even a suspicious stain, then you are out of here." For the rest of the night I lay with hands clenched rigidly by my sides and it was almost dawn before I finally found sleep. The next day it was the same -- an evening of hard labour, a tantalising fashion show followed by a frustrated sleepless night. Following nights repeated the pattern until I was in a state of total torment. I tried lying on my stomach but had to constantly change position. "For God's sake lie still and let me get some sleep," Helen complained. "I can't. My prick is killing me - it's agony. I am going to go crazy if I can't cum." "All right -- if that is the only way I am going to get any peace." "Thank you," I gasped rolling nearer to her. I did not think I would be allowed to fuck her but I hoped that she might help me. Helen was quick to disillusion me. "I'm not touching the disgusting thing if that's what you think." It didn't matter -- I had half expected this. I took hold of my throbbing member and gave a long sigh at the relief that just the touch of my hand afforded. "Not in the bed," she ordered. "I do not see why I should lie and listen to you abusing yourself. If you must do it then go and sit in the chair." Panicking in case my wife changed her mind, I jumped out of bed and groped through the darkness until I found the chair. I leaned back with eyes closed anticipating the blessed relief to come - and then the light came on. Helen was lying watching me with dispassionate eyes. Despite this ultimate humiliation I had to choice but to persevere. Very quickly, a stream of spunk jetted from my cock, reaching almost to the bedroom door. Immediately the light went out again. "You can clean that mess up before you come back to bed," Helen ordered. It took me a long time crawling in the darkness, clutching a handful of tissue and feeling for the sticky trail, before I was confident that all evidence had been removed. The next night on entering the bedroom, the first thing I saw was a gigantic vibrator lying on the bed. There was no show, Helen was obviously too keen to try her new toy for as soon as the light went out the buzzing started. "Just because you are being punished does not mean that I have to go without," she told me in justification. A little while later, after a noisy orgasm, she said, "This really is nice and big. There must be a man somewhere with a dick this size." Then she laughed and added, "If we found one, I wonder who would want him most -- you or me?" I endured the same thing for the next five nights with similar taunts but then I surrendered. As soon as I got home from work, I said, "I give in. I will do all the work that you say to make amends but I just can't stand the rest. At least let me move into the spare bedroom until I am forgiven. Haven't I suffered enough?" "You haven't even started suffering. Anyway, how can I possibly forgive you when I don't understand why you did it. Explain." "I can't explain because I don't understand it myself. I'm not gay. It just happened and I don't know why. It was something to do with Dave -- he is somehow special." "If he is so special then I want to meet him." "You can't" "It's up to you. If I meet him then I might just understand. Anyway, there were two of you at it -- it is rather unfair that you should be the only one being punished." That decided it. Even if it meant further hassle for me, I could not involve Dave in my wife's recriminations. "I can't get in touch with him. I do not know where he lives and I haven't got his telephone number." "What about E-mail?" "He might not even have a computer." "Don't be stupid. He works for the same firm as you. Surely an organisation like that has an internal mail network." "I shook my head. "I just can't do it," I said. "Please yourself," Helen told me. "I have no intention of letting up on you until I have met him." Next day at work I made contact. Helen had warned me not to let Dave know that the secret was discovered. It would have been difficult anyway for even the messages that I did send needed to be very circumspect -- the firm applied a very rigorous vetting policy on all telephone calls and internal mail. My message simply said: Need to see you re computer course applications. Alan. The reply was even more succinct. 'Difficult.' I sent back, 'Desperately important -- meet you half way' and was relieved to receive 'OK This Saturday, 2p.m.' naming a hotel in a town equidistant from our home cities. That evening I told Helen and she relaxed the pressure on me. During the nights to the weekend, there was still no sex but my hard labour was cancelled and a couple of nights I was allowed to try out my new game. My wife insisted on ringing the hotel to make a reservation and when Saturday arrived, we drove down. We booked in and took a light lunch in the restaurant. When we had finished eating, I was instructed to stay in the bar for the next hour and not go back to the room until 2 p.m. This was better than I had hoped for because it gave me the chance to collar Dave when he arrived and warn him what was in store. I took one quick drink then lurked in sight of the car park entrance, looking constantly at my watch. I only needed him to arrive a couple of minutes early but was disappointed -- in fact I even risked running over for five minutes, so desperate was I for a quick word with my friend. On returning to the room I was shocked by what found. Helen had changed into a dress that I had never seen before. It was very low cut and with an extremely short spit skirt. She was also wearing very high stiletto heeled shoes. The most extreme part of the outfit was her underwear -- if it deserved that name. It was easily visible through the slit as she moved and comprised little more than a thong over the crotch that seemed little thicker than a shoelace. "What is this in aid of?" I asked. "After reading your story, I thought I might need to look a bit sexy if I wanted to compete with your Mr Wonderful," she said and I had the distinct feeling that she was laughing at me. "It's a bit over the top don't you think?" I said, trying to make my voice light to conceal an increased sense of unease. "You're a model of decorum, I suppose." I never did stand a chance with my wife when it came to verbal fencing so I decided my best chance of safety lay in silence. At that moment there was a quiet knock on the door. If that turned out to be my friend then I could not understand how I had possible missed him. Nevertheless I started to hurry towards the door when a cold voice snapped, "Stay where you are," and Helen strode past to do the honours. The male outside started to speak but his voice died on seeing my wife and than he said, "I seem to have come to the wrong room." "Dave, I presume," she said and I could tell from her voice that my wife had accompanied her words with a most alluring smile. Helen stepped aside to let him enter and when Dave saw me his face broke into a wide lecherous smile and he rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. It was obvious that he thought I had laid on a hooker for us to share. I spoke quickly to dispel this allusion. "Dave - can I introduce my wife Helen." The smile died on my pal's face and his eyes flitted uneasily from side to side as he realised that he had walked into a situation. Helen laughed softly, "I know Dave. You're a bit confused because you didn't expect to find me here. Read this - I think it will explain far better than I can. Sit down, there is quite a lot of it." As she spoke, my wife handed him a printed copy of my incriminating story. Rather bemused Dave started reading but at the bottom of the first page he stopped and looked accusingly at me. I could only meet his gaze for a moment before looking away. "Read on," Helen ordered. "I think you will agree with me that my multi-talented husband has quite a flair for description. He makes you feel as if you were there - but then of course, you were." Not wanting to look at me and not daring to look at my wife, Dave returned his attention to the printed sheets. Where he had scanned the first page quickly, he now seemed to read extremely slowly. I went to the other armchair, deciding that I would rather feel less awkward sitting than standing. Helen lit a cigarette and continued to pace backwards and forwards a few paces in front of him. Eventually he finished reading only to start tapping the pages back into perfect alignment on his knee. My wife stopped this activity by holding out her hand and this gave my friend the opportunity to glance again at me. Without the need for words his eyes plainly sent the message ' You stupid bugger'. Helen stepped closer to him and said seductively, "Don't worry Dave, I'm not upset at you. I only want to clarify some details from my husband's very explicit story. Would you stand up for a moment." He had no choice but to oblige and they finished standing face to face with less than an inch separating my wife's thrusting tits from his chest. Looking up into his face she said innocently, "Alan claims that your cock is like that of a Greek God - is that true?" Then, without giving chance for him to answer she reached out to cup his genitals and give them a gentle squeeze. Dave looked around wildly - but not at me. I was a bit put out seeing my wife touch a man in that area even through the thickness of his trousers but at the same time I was glad it was his turn to be tormented instead of me. But her next actions shocked me to the core. "I agree - you do feel pretty substantial in that department but I do need a visual check." As she spoke, without waiting for any reaction from her victim, Helen undid his belt and then pulled down the zip allowing his trousers to fall around his ankles. Possibly because he had expected to find me alone, he had neglected to wear underpants and now his cock sprang up in full erect glory. Without hesitation, she reached out to grasp and then run her hands silkily up and down the shaft. I was watching the petrified expression on my friend's face and was startled to find my wife looking over her shoulder at me. "You were right my darling. It really is beautiful," she said. "I can fully understand now why you couldn't resist the temptation to put it in your mouth." I sat frozen in disbelief as she mimicked exactly everything that I had described, then parted those luscious lips that only belonged to me and took his throbbing cock deep inside her mouth. OK - so she had made the gesture, punished me but surely enough was enough, she couldn't possibly be planning to go through with it. I had quite forgotten my own words, that having started to suck his gorgeous cock I had found it quite impossible to stop. With mounting horror and a twisted feeling growing in my gut, I watched her working on his penis with an enthusiasm that she had never shown with me. Despite the horror, despite the jealousy I realised that part of the physical distress was due to my own prick being agonisingly stiff. Dave was standing almost immobile, eyes closed and head tilted towards the ceiling but it was obvious that he did not know what to do with his hands. Time seemed to stand still as, with pounding heart, I watched the blow-job carried to its inevitable conclusion. With Dave moaning and my wife's throat gulping, the weeks of frustration combined with the trauma of watching my faithful wife happily swallowing another mans cum, caused me to deposit a pool of semen on the inside of my pants. Helen stood and turned towards me. There was spunk coated all round her mouth with on strand dangling from her chin. There was a look of defiance in her eyes as she started to walk in my direction. For one dreadful moment I thought that she intended to kiss me but instead she bent down to snap open her handbag and extract a tissue, which she used to clean up her face. I could not believe what I had just witnessed. My faithful wife for more than a score of years had just fellated another man - an action that she had not done to me for longer than I could remember and then only as part of mutual oral sex. To be more exact, I doubted if she had actually swallowed my cum more than three times during the whole of the marriage - and if I remembered correctly, all of those times were before we actually tied the knot. My wife had administered a pretty harsh punishment for my misdemeanour but I consoled myself with the thought that this had got to wipe the slate clean and restore normal marital relations. My friend had turned sideways and was rather shamefacedly trying to push his prick back inside his pants. "Don't bother Davey boy, you and I are going to take a shower," Helen told him cheerfully. "I'm sure that is the next thing on the agenda." "But.." Dave started to protest. I think he was as anxious to escape as I was to see him leave. The Computer Course Ch. 02 "Now don't go telling me that the shower is too small for two. I seem to remember that in the story you held the opposite opinion." Laughing as she spoke, Helen pre-empted further objection by grabbing hold of his tie and set off for the tiny bathroom, dragging him behind her, like a reluctant bull being led to market. The moment that I was alone I searched my pockets for tissues and drawing a blank, pinched some from my wife's handbag. I used these to mop the inside of my pants as much as I could then stuffed the sodden paper mess into my pocket. My intention had been to remain in the bedroom until they returned but found my feet heading towards the sound of running water as if no longer under my control. During the time I had taken to clean myself up, my wife and friend had undressed and were now crammed naked and together under the warm shower jets. The shower curtain had been half pulled closed. This still afforded me an almost perfect view but hid me from my friend's eyes and, freed from the constraint of my beady gaze, I could see that he was enthusiastically joining in the spirit of the occasion. As I watched Dave's hands slid sensuously over her lush ripe curves and I could not help feeling that they imparted a sense of ownership. My wife's hands were not idle but they concentrated exclusively on his buttocks and genital region. I knew exactly the pleasure that she was experiencing because she was doing just the same as I did, as related in the story. He was getting very aroused with his cock sticking out rigidly in front of him. Almost beside himself with passion, Dave tried to thrust his pulsing member between her legs. My heart sank. 'She can't possibly intend to let him actually fuck her' I thought. So it was with utmost relief that I saw her almost casually turn her body just enough to frustrate. He kept thrusting with growing desperation and I could guess the pleasure that Helen got from toying with him as a matador does with a bull. Tempted beyond endurance, my one time lover pushed her back against the side of the cubicle, forced his thigh between hers and started prising her legs apart. "No," she said sharply. "I have no intention of getting soap inside me, I thought you knew better than that. I'm hungry so I'm going down to the restaurant now. Perhaps you should turn the water to very cold for a while." With that, taking advantage of his shock, Helen slipped out of the shower, throwing me an almost friendly grin as she skipped past me dragging a towel around her as she went. 'That's told him', I thought with a glow of relieved satisfaction. A meaningless blow-job was one thing but if he thought my wife would let him get his end away with her then he had another think coming. That was his punishment - to be driven almost frantic with desire and then told to take a cold shower. It was almost poetic. Helen dressed in a more conservative fashion for the restaurant. I now looked tidy and Dave emerged from the bathroom dressed but still looking hot and bothered and we set off as a trio in search of food. During the meal, feeling much happier, I was able to make some general contributions to the conversation but there was no need because Helen was happy conducting a monologue. She was apparently having the time of her life, overflowing with effervescence and verbosity. Dave was completely different from how I remembered, seeming almost tongue-tied on the few occasions that he attempted to speak. Throughout, almost oblivious of my presence, he was constantly searching my wife's face for some private glance and when not, his eyes were fixated by her tits. I could tell that he was remembering how they had felt under his hands in the shower and he was craving for more of the same. Already Helen had got under his skin and it pleased me to see him suffering. After we had eaten our sweets, Dave decided to cut his losses. Standing up hesitantly he pointed out that he had not yet been up to his room and his luggage was still awaiting his attention behind the desk in the lobby. "I'll get off to my own room and leave you two alone," he offered diplomatically. Helen would not hear of it. She said that after reading my story, she was intrigued to know him better and with a small laugh conceded that the earlier bit of fun at my expense had not really helped her get an insight into his character. Dave allowed himself to be too easily persuaded and I detected a glimmer of hope returning to his eye. Our room contained a double bed and a cottage type suite comprising a small settee and one armchair. I made straight for the settee and plonked myself down. I did not care who sat beside me and who took the chair but I was determined that they would not sit together. I had another think coming. "I want you in the chair," Helen instructed, he voice back to the old coldness. "Move it over there and swivel it round. Dave and I are going on the bed and that will give you the best viewpoint." "But - I thought..." I stammered. "You thought that one symbolic bit of head was going to clear the slate did you my love," she said with false sweetness. Have another read of your erotic story and remind yourself exactly how aggrieved I am entitled to be. Your friend is going to fuck me and you are going to watch and if you leave that chair before I tell you to, then consider yourself to have walked out of the marriage. You made it sound so good that I feel that I owe it to myself to check out the experience for myself." While I hastened to adjust the position of the chair, keeping my head bowed to hide the tears in my eyes, Helen turned to Dave and asked, "Is that all right with you lover?" Her lover to be, my ex lover did not speak but nodded his head enthusiastically with eyes already filled with lustful anticipation. My wife taking her revenge this far hurt me but I was more hurt by Dave's eagerness to go along with her. When he and I had sex there was an intimate rapport and at other times we had shared a manly camaraderie - but that now counted for nothing. Now in blatant betrayal, Dave was very obviously prepared to fuck my wife in front of me. My heart sank as Helen deliberately positioned herself with legs spread wide in an openly invitational manner. Dave seemed almost clumsy in his eagerness as he manoeuvred himself into position above her but at the very last moment she deftly extricated herself from his embrace and skipped off the bed. I felt a surge of relief - it was all one big tease. Helen had obviously taken this to the brink to torment me and was punishing him at the same time by denying her body when he must have assumed that it was all in the bag. My friends face showed that his thought processes were paralleling my own but when she leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, the grin that appeared on his lips gave the first intimation that I had read the scene wrong. Dave leaned back smiling supporting himself on his hands with legs spread and penis standing rigidly at the ready. Helen walked round between his legs, turned and then backed up to him, halting only when she came up against his dick. She then put a hand on each of his thighs, bent and raised her legs until her whole weight was supported by her arms. At this point, acting under orders, Dave reached round and adjusted the position of his cock until the head was engaged just inside the lips of her cunt. With the scene set, my wife looked into my eyes and said with cruel satisfaction, "Alan my love. In the twenty-two years that I have known you, yours is the only cock that has ever been inside my twat. Watch this and reflect on the error of your ways." Then with her gaze never wavering from mine, she slowly lowered herself to let his cock move inch by inch into her welcoming depths. That symbolic penetration was the worst moment, (I actually held my breath until his big penis was fully embedded inside her) but the continuing spectacle maintained torment as his shaft kept reappearing glistening with her internal juices as she raised and lowered her body. I felt a bitter sense of injustice. I had enjoyed with Dave what could not be replicated within the marriage and in that sense my infidelity was less meaningful as this. Had Helen instead chosen to take revenge by having sex with another woman, that would have been more apt and I could have watched with far less pain than this. To be honest, I suspect that I would have viewed such a situation with a great deal of pleasure. That position was very tiring even though Dave was assisting with hands underneath her buttocks, so after a time she reversed, still straddling his lap but facing him. This actually gave me a far better view of his cock disappearing inside her cunt but she no longer had the pleasure of watching my reaction as she fucked him. My own prick was agonisingly stiff but still I dare not lay a soothing hand upon it - had I been allowed to even release it from the confines of my pants, I felt that would bring some relief. I have read accounts by husbands about the pain of watching their wives being fucked by other men, (without ever thinking it would happen to me), and yet I think that my position was even worse. I had the distress of watching violation of the intimate territory that had been exclusively mine - but at the same time I still suffered cravings for the cock that was affecting my humiliation. I think that the lack of control got to Dave because he wrapped his arms round Helen and twisted round so that she was underneath him on the bed. From my point of view what followed was even worse. Before, in both positions with her on his lap, it had been demonstration sex. Granted his dick was moving inside her but it was stilted, artificial. This was the real thing. Now she was really being shagged. He was plunging in, no holds barred, both of them gasping and totally oblivious of me. I could almost feel her body reacting to him. I watched Helen's arms clutch convulsively round him and I heard the low moan emanating from her throat. Long minutes before it happened, I knew that he was going to make her cum. I waited for it praying that it would not happen. A malevolent God reversed my plea and gave her an orgasm of greater magnitude than anything I might have imagined. This was my ultimate defeat - or so I thought. The nadir came a few moments later when, her arms still clasped around him and nails digging into his back, she breathed, "Oh Dave - I have never been fucked as good as that." Those words were no longer revenge, no longer said for effect to punish me further - I knew that she had spoken involuntarily from the depths of the experience. They continued screwing and Helen had another two minor climaxes, like after shocks following a major earthquake. Shortly after the last, Dave shot what I knew would be copious amounts of semen in the direction of her womb. They separated and lay for a while side by side until my wife slowly sat up and looked over at me. Some of her confidence had gone as she was shocked by the violence of her body's reaction to him. Then, making an effort, she opened her legs allowing me to see the white stuff starting to ooze out of her. "Fancy a bit of tongue work?" she taunted. I was past humiliation and at that moment there was nothing that I wanted more in the world. As if on a piece of string I started moving out of the chair until she laughed and said, "Think again my love. You are still in purdah or the equivalent. There is one hell of a lot that you still have to expiate - remember, you were pleasured by this lovely man for nearly a week so I have a lot of catching up to do before the slate is clean." Bitterly disappointed I sat back in the chair. After all that I had endured, it was this that caused the tears to start trickling down my face. They seemed to melt my wife's heart of stone. "This can't be a lot of fun for you sweetheart," she said. "Darling Dave seems to have got have got the hang of what is required of him and can manage without an audience to cheer him on. Why don't you take a break and pop down to the bar for a couple of hours." Despite the torment of watching I was about to decline the offer until realising from the expression on Helen's face that this was an order and not a suggestion. I stood up slowly and started to trudge reluctantly towards the door, still unable to drag my eyes away from the tableau on the bed. I had half opened the door when she called out "Wait," and for a moment my heart leapt thinking that the had relented. It was a foolish hope. "While you are out, you might as well take Dave's stuff up to his room for him," she smiled sweetly. "You can come back in two hours but not a minute sooner. Oh yes, while you are standing there, be a love and hang the 'Do not disturb' sign outside the door." This was real humiliation - relegated to the role of porter for the man who was poking my wife. The task was not made any easier by the fact that I had to both identify myself and think up a convincing reason why Dave was unable to look after the luggage himself. I cringed to think of the snickers that my telling the truth would have provoked. In Dave's room I dropped his bag heavily, sincerely hoping that it contained something fragile. I hated being in that empty room but was forced to linger there long enough to regain control of my emotions. The ache in my heart was only exceeded the one in my groin. It was in my power to something about the last but by now I was totally demoralised. I had lost my nerve. I felt it inevitable that Helen would know if I masturbated and could not face the thought of the fresh punishment that this might provoke. In the bar I drank enough to ease the pain but had to deny myself the solace of complete inebriation because I had to remain enough in control to walk back into that bedroom at the end of my ordeal. I have never known two hours take so long to pass and during every living minute my mind was peopled with images of what was occurring in the bedroom. At long last I was able to return upstairs. I walked up the staircase with deliberation but had to pause outside the room door to control the attack of trembling that afflicted my legs. At this last second I checked my watch to ensure that I had not mistakenly come back to soon. With everything in order I took a deep breath and stepped into the room without knocking. They were both still lying on the bed and Helen was smoking. This in itself was a disappointment. I had thought that they might both be dressed or if not that Dave would be ready to return to his own room. In the bar I had envisaged slipping into bed beside my wife, not for sex but for the acknowledgement that I had expiated my guilt. But there was no forgiving tone in my wife's voice as she said, "You have surprised me - I honestly didn't think you had the self control to stay away until now." I didn't know what to do. I hadn't expected them to be still in bed together and was at a loss to know what was expected of me. Helen solved the problem by waving me back to my chair. "Dave wants to fuck me the way that he fucked you and I've said that he can," she explained. "He wanted to start to start straight away but I know it's something that you would not want to miss, so I made him wait until you got back. In future you can't ever accuse me of not considering your feelings." This was worse than even my most terrible nightmare. You may find it hard to believe but during the score of years that we had been married, I had never screwed Helen that way. Ironic though it seems now I had always been slightly homophobic - in retrospect this possibly explained my unrealised inherent leanings that way. The bottom line was that as anal fucking was what queers did, I had convinced myself that it had to be nasty with no place in a decent marriage. Up until now my punishment had been to painfully watch Dave doing to Helen what I had already done many times (with the suspicion that he did it better adding only marginally to the torment). But now he was about to break new ground - his penis was going to venture where mine had never been and that thought was intolerable. Would that I could have died rather than watch - or even find the ability to force my eyes away. Riding above all other emotions was one of jealousy - the feeling that the pleasure that my wife was about to enjoy rightfully belonged to me - I know that my arse ached at the memory of the sensations that she was going to discover. As if by prior agreement they did it as a set piece and could easily have been performing for a 'Teach yourself buggery' educational video. Helen got on all fours carefully angled to give me the perfect view and when satisfied with her position she actually turned her head, grinned at me and then wiggled her buttocks enticingly as encouragement for him to begin. It seemed to be in slow motion. Dave carefully lined his ramrod stiff prick touching her puckered rosebud and then at the last moment, as I gritted my teeth in anticipation, he too could not resist the temptation to look triumphantly over his shoulder to witness my reaction. He entered her slowly but this still caused Helen to wince and gasp at the unexpected level of pain. For a few hopeful moments I hoped that she was going to ask him to stop but my wife is made of sterner stuff. I reckon that for the first three minutes Helen believed this to be an ordeal that she had to endure but then everything changed and her moaned "Oh Yes" signalled the start of my suffering. He drove her crazy. She was delirious - almost out of her mind with pleasure and throughout, as previously mentioned, my mental pain was on two distinct levels. It was impossible to tell when one orgasm ended and the next one began. Without a shadow of doubt, Dave was taking her to sexual peaks in comparison to which, my best efforts had always left her somewhere in the foothills. I honestly believed that I was witnessing the end of my marriage for why should she ever be satisfied with me after an experience like this. At the end they collapsed together, still connected and both breathing heavily. It was several minutes before he withdrew and allowed Helen to roll over to face me with a dreamy expression on her face. For the first time since this whole thing began I saw kindness in her eyes and hoped that this grand finale was the end of my punishment. "This can't be very nice for you my love - why don't you go and kip down in Dave's room for the night. I want some more of that and plenty of the other before I'm through." Swallowing my disappointment, I muttered ,"I'll stay." "You've already seen it all and anyway, we will be getting under the covers so there will be nothing for you to watch," she insisted. "I don't care." "Go," she ordered with the coldness back in her voice. "If you must know I want to say things to my lover that I don't want you to hear." Totally defeated I trudged head down towards the door only to hear her final instructions before I could exit the room, "Remember to keep your filthy hands away from your dick and come back here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning but not before." Perhaps the mind can only stand so much. I had anticipated a long sleepless night with my mind tormented by what I had seen and the activity still occurring but strangely I fell asleep the moment that my head touched the pillow. I woke at seven the next morning. A leisurely wash and shave and taking my time getting dressed only took the time to seven-thirty. Incapable of staying away for another half hour I returned to my room. The bed was a mess with Dave still lying on it with his head and torso under the duvet but with his lower quarters exposed. His cock was limp but the moisture upon it showed that Helen had recently sucked him off. Our bag was packed and my wife sat fully dressed putting the finishing touches to her make-up. The Computer Course Ch. 02 "Grab that bag and we'll be off," she said standing and heading for the door. "Shouldn't we say goodbye to Dave," I asked, edging past her towards the bed. "I shouldn't bother," Helen warned quietly. "I shagged your supposedly inexhaustible friend to a standstill last night and when he couldn't get it up anymore he had an attack of conscience about you - I think he might be a bit embarrassed having to face you this morning. I've got his personal Email address if you want to drop him a line from home." We got in the car and set off up the motorway. I drove in silence being still more than a little cowed. After a while Helen said, "You're punishment is over bye the way. You may also like to know that I have forgiven you completely - I can now fully understand why Dave seduced you so easily. If you want, from now on, I will be 100% faithful to you for the rest of our lives." I started to mutter, 'Of course that's what I want' but my wife cut me off. With the note of authority in her voice that was now so familiar she said, "Wait until I tell you the alternative. I have enjoyed this trip more than I believed possible and I would very much like to see Dave again - he has pestered me for the same thing. I also think that you would like to come down alone to renew your friendship and a weekend of us sharing him might be fun. Such visits are bound to be rare and I can imagine that you have recently acquired tastes that you might need to satisfy between times. You have my permission to do so but if I ever find that you have had sex with another woman, then what you suffered this weekend will be like a slap on the wrist compared to what I will do to you. On my side, I will feel free to go with other men when and where I chose. I promise to be discreet and if you chose I will tell you everything that happens but, apart from Dave, I won't ever let you watch again. That's the deal - think about it and let me know which alternative you really want." There was really nothing to consider. "You mean, not an open marriage but one with specific holes in the walls? I vote for that," I told her. I was still suffering from severe sexual deprivation and the mental images inspired by my wife's words had turned my penis into a pulsating rod of white-hot iron in serious danger of spontaneous combustion. Helen chose this moment to rest her hand lightly on my thigh, triggering me to involuntarily twitch the vehicle into the adjoining lane. "Pull off at these services and park somewhere with a bit of privacy," she laughed. "I better do something about that thing between your legs before you kill the pair of us."