34 comments/ 60677 views/ 40 favorites Hung Go, a Club By: ukresearcher The description gave a clue but I will repeat the warning. This story has a definite cuckold aspect, so those of you who are averse to that theme should leave now. ***** It was one of those perfect days of early summer - warm without being too hot and with a freshness in the air that made it the ideal weather for walking. Claire, my wife of twelve years and I were making one of our rare forays into the countryside sans kids, Stuart (9) and Emma (7) would be picked up from school as usual by their grandparents and looked after until we got back to collect them. It was mid week but I had a legitimate day off from my job as office manager and my wife had cashed in some of her accumulated flexi-time to join me. Claire is an analyst programmer writing programs for mainframe computers. As we both work full time, the grandparents, (Claire's mum and dad) look after the children while we are at work and for this we pay an allowance every month. It is an ideal symbiotic relationship because the oldies get a great deal of pleasure from our offspring and the cash allows them to enjoy a higher standard of luxury than would otherwise have been possible, while Claire and I are left free to pursue our careers. My big interests are history and geology while Claire has a passion for ornithology and botany so while our hobbies were not exactly complimentary; a walk on the wild side served both our purposes. In the early years of the marriage we were off somewhere almost every weekend but more recently such trips had grown few and far between. Of course we were at pains to instil a love of the outdoors into our offspring but any excursion with the children in tow had of necessity to be of fairly short duration. So you will see that this day was a bit of a treat for us. We had driven some forty miles and were in the process of climbing a rather large hill that promised to give some spectacular views from the top. My reason for being there, apart from the view, were some reputed earth works about half way up and a cave slightly higher up that was known to contain signs of pre-historic occupation. The hill and its surrounds was designated an area of outstanding natural beauty, so Claire was happy to look out for the rare birds and plants reported to have been spotted in the area. I had spent a pleasant fifteen minutes clambering over the earth works while some distance away, Claire stood resting her arms on the top of a fence, looking into the field beyond. Having seen all that there was to see, I moved to the upwards continuation of the path and called out, "Shall we start heading for the top then?" Now I had thought my wife was waiting for me, so I was more than I little surprised when she called back, "I think I'll stay here for a few more minutes. You're bound to be stopping at the cave anyway, so I will either catch you up there or at the top." I waved acknowledgement, turned away and after a few paces moved out of her sight behind an outcrop of carboniferous limestone but some thirty yards up the path I halted. The fact was that I was more than a little intrigued to know what was holding my wife's attention. I rejected both flowers and plants for these would have needed closer scrutiny so it had to be a bird - or possibly some kind of mammal. This rationalising did not solve the mystery for if it were something of real interested, Jane would surely have beckoned me to share the experience - as she had on numerous previous occasions. With curiosity well piqued I retraced my steps, walking quietly lest I disturb the subject of her study. So silent was my approach that I got within half a dozen paces with my wife still unaware of my return - (it is possible that she was so engrossed as to be oblivious of any sound). I was almost at her shoulder before I saw a horse that had been previously blocked from my view by a bush. It was a large brown horse of the kind referred to as a hunter but the significant thing about the animal was that it was in a state of arousal. Now I had seen pictures of immense horse dicks but was unprepared for how overpowering they could appear in the flesh. This animal's dong had to be a yard long. It was not fully erect but neither was it limp - had it hung straight down, the end must surely have brushed the ground, (I reckoned that it was held roughly twenty decrees from the vertical). To complete the picture, globs of a thick clear liquid were dropping from the cock end and many sticky blobs on the ground between the horses legs gave evidence that this had been happening for some time. "So you are into horse cocks now, are you," I asked from just behind her back. Jane whirled round and I have to say she did have the grace to blush. "I was watching a gg.goldfinch ," she stuttered but then, faced with my knowing grin, she smiled back rather sheepishly and admitted, "It is rather impressive - I've never seen anything quite like it." Further along the field I spotted another horse's head poking over the hedge and even at that distance could tell that it had a more feminine cast. "That is probably his mare," I said pointing. "Lucky mare," Jane said ruefully. I felt that my wife's remark had slipped out without thinking and I was a trifle unsettled by it. To cover my discomfiture, I made my voice factual as I informed, "She's most likely in season - that would explain both his condition and why she is so interested." "Well I would be interested whether I was in season or not," Jane said bluntly. Her voice held such meaning that I could not let the remark pass without retort. "Are you getting at me by any chance?" I was undoubtedly over sensitive on the subject. Ever since adolescence, I'd known that my five and a half inch dick did not fill the average sized lunch box but had always taken great efforts to overcome this handicap, particularly during the marriage. I had taken to heart the adage, 'It's not what you've got but what you do with it that counts'. I had also tried to mimic the methods of manufacturers who conceal the size of small products with heavy packaging. In general I had kept romance alive with flattery, flowers when appropriate and many small surprise gifts. In the bedroom with variation, play acting sexy scenarios and always indulging in plenty of foreplay and after-play. The net result was that Claire had an orgasm during intercourse more often than not and never missed during my oral worship, a practice I indulged in excessively. I honestly believed that we had a healthy sex life and would not have expected my wife to dispute this but deep down I still harboured an inferiority complex about my endowment. Claire looked at me blankly. "I don't know what you mean. How could my remark possibly be construed as getting at you?" Now I was embarrassed. "I'm being stupid," I said. "I was mentally comparing my dick to that thing and I think I just assumed that you were doing the same." My wife's face broke into a big smile. "I see what you mean - it really is a case of 'from the sublime to the ridiculous'. No I wasn't getting at you - I don't think you were even in my mind when I said that." I joined in the laughter because it was funny but this did not lessen my sudden feeling of inadequacy. "Seriously, have you ever wished that I had more down there?" "Why should I? You are a very accomplished lover and you have kept me more than satisfied - have I ever even hinted that I might be unhappy with what you've got?" "No you haven't," I conceded, " - but you're not the kind of woman to say something you knew would upset me. What you think in your head is a different matter." Claire was obviously unhappy with the direction the conversion was taking for she failed to respond to my last statement. Unfortunately I was unable to let the matter drop. "Have you ever had a really big cock up you?" A flash of real annoyance crossed my wife's face but she reached out to take my hand and then said softly, "Ian, over thirteen years ago we both agreed that our respective pasts should be a closed book. When people are young they often do things that they regret - I know I did. I was never a complete whore but there are some things I am not proud of and I'm sure that you are the same - so there is no point in excavating the past only to lumber the other person's imagination." "I know we agreed but I would like the answer to just this one question - have you ever been fucked by a cock that was more like that than mine?" I illustrated the question by nodding towards the quadruped's dangling monstrosity. Claire thought a long time and then removed her hand from mine before answering. "The answer is 'Yes'. He was Scandinavian, his penis was huge, we did it three times altogether and if you want to know what it was like you will have to keep on wondering because I honestly can't remember. Is that any help?" It helped, oh God how it helped - if an experience with an oversized dick was so forgettable then what the hell was I fretting about? I tried to conceal quite how elated I felt but could not resist lurching forward to give my wife a big kiss. "Forget that I have just been so stupid," I begged, "I think I must have had some kind of mental aberration." Claire signalled my return to favour by slipping her arm in mine and thus entwined we proceeded to the top of the hill, not bothering to visit the cave en route. There was no-one else around but we still sought out a secluded spot before unpacking lunch from our back packs. The simple sandwiches, tomatoes, bananas and apples tasted like the food of the Gods. Everything seemed unreal, I felt supercharged and Claire's eyes held an unusual brightness. I don't know whether I seduced her or if Claire made the first move but the next thing we were screwing like rabbits. It had to be the first time since the wedding that we had fucked in the open air. Something about the day must have infected us because we were at it again that night when the kids were in bed and the effect lingered for over a week before things gradually got back to normal. Thus it was not until that surfeit of sex was over that my mind returned to the moment on the mountain when I had showed myself to be an inadequate jealous fool, simply from seeing a horse with a hard-on. Although everything had turned out so well, I still felt a need to prove to my wife that I harboured no hang-ups about my less than average sized prick. Claire and I used the same PC and both of us held files pertaining to our work that were classified as Confidential. In consequence, we had gone through the motions of partitioning areas of memory that were pass-word protected from the other. Now over the years, when Claire had been tied up with a late problem at work, I had taken the opportunity to browse the Web for pornography and had accumulated a small file of photographs downloaded when they caught my fancy. Rather sneakily I had hidden these in the area of memory to which only I had access. In my collection is one particular photograph that features a bay stallion sporting a full and gigantic erection. Also in the picture is an attractive blonde girl with a deliciously bare rump and she is bending over in front of the animal with that massive organ resting on her back. You have probably seen the shot because I have also spotted it as one of a series of small thumb-nails featuring the same scenario, displayed on the free tour of a pay to view site. I took the photo and posted it to my wife's section of memory, attached to a message that read, 'As you are into that sort of thing, I thought that you might like this. Ha Ha.' I did it to show that my momentary jealousy on the mountain was a thing of the past. I then waited in anticipation of Claire's next session alone on the computer, eager to know her reaction to my missive. This happened a couple of days later and she came downstairs laughing. "It's marvellous," she said, "Where the dickens did you get it from?" I had not thought the thing through because I should have expected the question. It was embarrassing because I did not want to confess that a portion of my time trawling for porn was spent on bestiality sites. There was an awkward silence and then, too late for my off-hand manner to be convincing, I said, "Oh someone sent it to me as a laugh some time ago." "And you kept it?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "You know me - never throwing anything away," I said lamely. Claire gave a knowing smile. "Anyway, I think it's marvellous - I think I might use it as my screen saver." "You can't - what about the kids?" I protested in horror. "I know that stupid. It was a joke - but I am certainly not sending it to the bin." Amongst girls approaching school leaving age a certain percentage are especially gorgeous but, amongst women eight years older and more that special percentage has almost completely disappeared. This is because some of the favoured females have gone off to gain fame and fortune and others have found wealthy husbands but I suspect that a large proportion of the remainder have become fodder for the sex industry. Claire is second rank because slight irregularity of features on her still very attractive face bar her from true beauty and yet her body is just about perfect. When I tell her so she always says, 'My bum's too big' - why do so many women have this complex about their backsides? Granted she doesn't need an ounce more but I would not be happy with an ounce less and when she walks away from me wearing nothing but a thong and high heels, I could believe that I had died and gone to heaven. Claire is a statuesque 5' 9" inches tall, only a scant inch less than me and when wearing her three and a half inch stilettos she can seem to tower over me. Early in our relationship when out for the evening, she took to wearing flats or just a minimal heel but when I realised that she was doing it to preserve my feelings, I insisted that she always wore more flattering shoes. I did this mainly because her gorgeous legs deserved to be seen at their best advantage but it also showed that I had no kind of complex about our comparative heights. Towards the end of the following January, Claire told me that the system that she had been working on for the last eighteen months was ready to go live and this would entail her spending six successive weekends on the client's premises doing parallel running, starting the first weekend in February. I was not too pleased to hear this but the blow was eased when she went on to say that, there would be a substantial bonus involved. It would have been worse in the better weather because then the weekends are more precious. The first of these weekends came and went. Claire travelled with the rest of her team, departing just after lunch on the Friday and returning late Sunday afternoon. When I asked how it had gone, she replied, "Easy Peasy. The system works so there is little to do - we spent most of the time playing cards, all really rather boring." The second and third weekends were exactly the same but Claire returned from the fourth looking totally shagged out. "There has been an almighty cock-up and we had to work all hours to put it right," she reported when I remarked on her tiredness. That week at home she was very quiet and several times I caught her studying me pensively. After the next weekend, she was equally tired if not more so and responded to my query by saying 'Same problem' without elaboration. As this looked like a persistent bug, I prepared for Claire needing to burn the midnight hours at her usual place of employment, working to repair a known fault - but this never happened. The final weekend left her again showing severe sleep deprivation but all that she would say was that the system had been successfully installed. She displayed no relief or pleasure in the announcement and I was left with the definite impression that something was not right. As the end of that week approached, I was looking forward to spending the first Friday evening with my wife for seven weeks but arriving home, with a brittle look on her face, Claire informed me that she was going out for the evening. "I'm taking the team out to celebrate the system going in," she explained. That sounded like a valid reason but I got the impression that it was ad hoc rather than planned - and she did not get home until after 3 a.m. which was far too late for an office booze-up. Despite my worries and suspicions, I said nothing and then the following Friday Claire again declared her intention to leave me alone for the evening. "Rick, one of my team has got a new job in France and this is his leaving do. I know it is rather soon after me going out last week but it can't be helped," she said. "As his team leader I am almost obliged to be there." It sounded very plausible but something in my wife's posture told me that it was not the truth. Again it was three in the morning before she got home but this time I was sitting waiting when she got home. "What are you doing up?" she asked, walking past into the kitchen. I got up and followed. "Waiting for you," I said. By all normal behaviour she should have looked at me and asked 'Why?' but instead she kept her back to me and proceeded to set out two mugs and make tea with unnecessary concentration. I waited until she had placed a mug in front of me and sat down facing before asking, "Are you having an affair?" She looked straight into my eyes and with her face bland said, "Goodness - wherever did you get that idea?" I said nothing and just stared back. Claire held my gaze for a long minute and then her eyes dropped. "I'm not having an affair but I have been having sex with someone. How did you know?" I ignored her question. "Who?" "Rick." "I thought you said that he was obnoxious." "Yes I did and he is." Claire looked up at me with her eyes full of tears and for the first time in a month I could see the woman that I knew and loved. "Then I don't understand." "It is difficult to explain but I'll try." "So this leaving do was a complete lie?" I asked, interrupting anything else she might have said. "The party last week was a lie but tonight was partly true. It was his leaving do but Rick was the only one there. He goes to France on Monday and I won't be seeing him again." It was a relief to know that the affair or whatever it was had finished and I think that this knowledge helped me to hear the rest of my wife's story with greater composure. "Tell me everything from the start darling," I said softly. "I can't promise that I will forgive you but I will try if you can make me understand why it happened." Claire got a cigarette out of her bag and lit up - I knew that she sometimes smoked at work when under stress but she almost never indulged at home. "When Rick was put in my team I didn't like him at all and that has hardly changed. It was around that time that I told you about him. He is 25, very good looking and exceptionally intelligent but also over confident and rather arrogant. He thinks that he is God's gift to women and that is what really got my back up. Very quickly he had flings with girls in other departments and got his card marked as a complete womaniser. The point is that girls he had been with were panting for another turn and one day I overheard a conversation at the coffee machine that was rather significant. One woman was saying, 'That Rick fancies himself altogether too much' to which the other replied, 'Perhaps he is justified because he is pretty hot stuff'. Despite this availability of willing girls, for some reason Rick seemed to have set his mind on pulling me. Apart from my love for you holding me back, I had no wish to be just another of his conquests." Hung Go, a Club My wife stubbed out the cigarette. "I didn't want to know but I had to be careful how I kept him in check because I didn't want an unpleasant atmosphere in the team. He started a persistent campaign to win me round - I suppose that is/was sexual harassment but I didn't complain because it was flattering in a way. He was constantly thinking up new ways to come on to me and it became a challenge to keep knocking him back with a bit of wit. He started by mentioning that he had two tickets for a show and other times saying that he wanted to take me to a club with some special attraction or other. When I declined he said, 'Twelve years married - hell even if you had killed someone you would be free to have a bit of fun by now.' One day when we were alone he said, 'I would crawl over barbed wire and broken glass bollock naked for one night with you'. After that he would sing the first line of 'One night with you' - he does have a rather nice voice. I told him that I wasn't interested so he asked, 'How can you possibly turn me down when you don't know what I have to offer?' So I told him, 'For a start I am very happily married and even if I did consider having a fling it would be with an older man, not a near child like you.' That was about my most cutting put-down but it didn't deter him one little bit." Claire paused to take a first sip from her mug. "I managed to keeps things in equilibrium for a long time until we had to go away for the parallel running. Even then I kept him rigidly in check without much problem for the first three weeks even though he had turned up the heat considerably. He would say, 'Are you going to be on your lonesome tonight when you could be enjoying the experience of a lifetime' - modest he was not. Another line was, 'You won't ever have a better opportunity, you're hubby need never know a thing' or "Just have one little taste and I guarantee that you will keep coming back for more'. As I mentioned there was very little for the team to do so he had plenty of chances to whisper his little solicitations in my ear. Catching me alone he would sing the Elvis song, 'Are you lonesome tonight' and then whistle the tune when others were around - even whistling it outside my hotel room door at night. I was amused by his efforts but not tempted in the slightest." "But then he breached your defences," I prompted. My wife nodded. "The fourth Friday passed as usual but the next morning when the team gathered for transport to the firms premises, Ricky was missing. I must explain that instead of keys, the hotel room doors were opened by a remote control fob or by typing a pin number into a number pad on the door. Anyway, the four of us went back up to Rick's room to hurry him up. I was about to knock on the door when one of the other guys said, 'I can get us in. The security system in this hotel is crap - the door pin numbers should be randomised but they're not, they're in sequence, Rick's number is one more than mine'. With that he typed some digits and we walked into the room to find it empty. Rick must have missed his alarm call or something because he was nowhere near ready." A smile flickered across my wife's face at the memory as she continued, "As we stood there, he walked naked out of the shower with his head enveloped in a towel, vigorously rubbing his hair. The other three guys started grinning and making signs not to let Rick know he had an audience but I could not drag my eyes away from my tormentor's penis because it seemed to hang almost down to his knee. It seemed like an eternity standing there watching it sway as he towelled his hair. When he realised we were there he covered up (taking his time about it) but then got dressed in a hurry." Time for another cigarette, "Nothing was said at that time but later catching me alone Rick asked if I had got an eyeful. I said that I might have - if I had been at all interested. That should have stopped him but it didn't. Leaning forward he urged, 'Come on - tell me how the sight of my male flesh made you feel - get you all hot did it?' He was starting to get through to me for the first time so I had to slap him down hard. 'The only emotion that I felt was embarrassment for you,' I told him coldly. 'You needn't have bothered darling because I've got nothing to be embarrassed about,' he said - and privately I had to admit that was true." "Did the sight of his cock affect you?" "A lot more than I admitted to him. It wasn't stiff but was still large from the shower and it did look rather splendid. I had expected more harassment during the day after that but from then on he stayed away from me. I thought that he had won that little exchange but by the evening I was beginning to wonder if I had managed to stop his campaign. That night there was no whistling in the corridor outside my room and I took that as the final good sign but then there was a very soft knock on my door and I knew it was Rick. I was in my nightie ready for bed - usually that's all I wear in hotels but for some reason I had still got on my bra and pants. My first inclination was to tell him to go away but then I decided to make a fool of him and said 'Come in'. The door was locked and I certainly wasn't going to open it so I thought that would make him frustrated - and even if he knew the pin number trick, I planned to say icily, 'What do you want - couldn't it have waited until morning?' " Claire paused and looked at me straight in the eyes before saying, "He did let himself in but I didn't say a damn thing. He was wearing just loose fitting pants and a waistcoat type jacket. In an instant he had dropped the pants and stepped out of them then shrugged of the jacket to stand there totally naked. Then he walked forward completely confident - I think he knew that I was going to open my legs for him before I did. I stepped back and fell backwards onto the bed. There was no talk and no foreplay. He just pushed the crotch of my panties aside and pushed it in. I was very wet and it went right in without the slightest problem as if my cunt had just expanded for him. The moment it was in I knew that it felt exactly the same as Scandinavia all those years ago." "Wait a minute, when I asked a few weeks ago you swore that you couldn't remember anything about that - why did you lie?" I interrupted, illogically attaching more significance to a past untruth than to the present confession of adultery. Claire was silent for a few moments and then she said, "I'm going to tell you about my previous sex life. For one thing there is no point in hiding it anymore and I think it might help to explain. I was almost nineteen before I lost my virginity, then over the next year I had sex with three different boys but I made all three wait for over a month before letting them have anything more than a good grope - I still thought of myself as a 'good girl'. By the end of the year I had left home and was sharing a flat with a girl called Amy. During the Xmas break we had the bright idea of going to Norway for two weeks holiday - mainly because it was so dirt-cheap. The holiday site was widely separated wooden cabins placed in pairs. Well the first four days were marvellous, very cold but with lots of bright sunshine, and we went somewhere every day and got back to the cabin dog tired." At that point Claire felt the need for another nicotine boost and paused to light a new cigarette before continuing, "Then the weather closed in and stayed like that for the rest of the holiday. In the adjoining cabin were two brothers that we had hardly seen until then but they came knocking on our door in the middle of a snowstorm, carrying a bottle each. One had an unpronounceable name that sounded like 'Viluf' so we called him 'Wolf' and his brother was Sven. We quickly started messing around but after a while, Amy went to the other cabin with Sven and Wolf stayed with me and I soon discovered that his cock was enormous. He was very inexperienced and clumsy and I had only had quick shags from boy's pricks so I was still very tight and it hurt a lot. Until recently, that is all that I could remember about it but I do know that it didn't stop me doing it more than once that first time and going back for more over the next two days." My wife too a moment to collect her thoughts and then went on, "Nobody took the other cabin the next week so there were no males around and nothing to do. Amy and I were still on a high so we started fooling with each other and over the next week we did everything that two women can do, including raiding the vegetable locker for things to stick up each other. The strange thing was that what is fine in a Norwegian cabin seems gross in an English flat. When we got home, Amy and I were awkward and embarrassed with each other and she left within the week to move in with her steady boyfriend leaving me in a flat I could not afford by myself. I was worried that I had turned into a lesbian so to prove that I wasn't, I went off from a party with three guys that I didn't know and indulged in a mini gang bang. I did it again the next weekend with two of the same guys and a new one they had brought along. Right since the cabin I had been smoking pot and taking E so it was all part of a downward spiral." Claire made another dent in her cigarette supply before carrying on, "Then I was saved by a married man, he was fifteen years older that I was but he set me up in expensive flat. Ted said that his wife was frigid - I would have been frigid too married to him because he was very selfish in bed. On the good side he took me out to posh restaurants and bought me lots of nice things so I stayed faithful for a year even though I only saw him once or twice a week. During that time I felt very ashamed of the period immediately before and blocked it from my memory. Then I met you, and that was the flat I took you back to the first time we did it. No - I wasn't still sleeping with him. Right from first meeting you, I told Ted that he couldn't fuck me anymore and he was relieved because he said his wife was getting suspicious. He had paid six months in advance on the flat and when that ran out I moved in with you." "Are you quite sure that you didn't sleep with him again?" "No I damn well didn't," my Claire said fiercely," - apart from that one last time to say goodbye." I looked at my wife coldly. "Having listened to your sordid story, it doesn't explain a damn thing except to let me know this isn't the first time in your life that you have acted the slut. I still think you lied to me and I can't understand why." "I didn't lie to you Ian because when I said that it was the truth - I have only remembered since then," Claire said sadly. "It was that horse picture that started me off. Under the photo was the word 'Next' - I must have accidentally clicked on it because I found myself connected to the Internet site that it had come from. I started getting pop-ups from other sites and took all the free tours. At first these were still bestiality sites but then it changed to other stuff so I did a search for 'horse cocks'. It brought up lots of sites but most were not bestiality at all, featuring well hung men instead. Some were straight and some were gay but it did not matter to me because I just wanted to see what they had got. Women aren't meant to be effected by pornography but it's not true because I got all hot and bothered and on days after that it became a compunction to look some more. Gradually my memory returned until I could remember everything with crystal clarity including what another woman tasted like and how exciting it was to have sex with three men at the same time - but it was the way Wolf's big cock made me feel that dominated my thoughts. I started to wish..." "That I had a penis that size," I interrupted. Claire nodded. "I'm sorry yes. I couldn't imagine not being married to you and I had no intention of having an affair but I developed the desire to have something big inside me again. I was resigned to the fact that I would have to do without for the rest of my life so I did start to wish that you had what I needed. Apart from Wolf none of the guys I shagged had a prick very much larger than yours and you are a far better lover than any of them. All of our marriage I have considered myself very lucky because I didn't think any man could make me feel better than you do but I was mistaken. As I said Wolf was very inexperienced and the pleasure with him was purely from size but Rick is every bit as big and he is as talented with his cock as you are with your tongue. You do a lot more than just lick and Rick does so much more than just poke his cock in and out. Ian - he took me into a different world of experience." In the silence that followed the end of my wife's speech, I tried to assess how I felt about her admission. The conversation digressions that followed her first admission that penetration had occurred seemed to have help me by blunting the shock and leaving me just numb instead of the expected searing pain of jealousy. In part I think that I had always anticipated that something like this would happen eventually, resigning myself to the fact years before it actually occurred. "This explains the extreme tiredness after your weekends away," I murmured, feeling that I had to say something but completely lacking a meaningful response. "After the first time, at home with you, I pretended to myself that I would not let happen again, of course it did - but it was not until the second weekend spent fucking Rick that I realised I was addicted to his cock. After one fuck I felt so desperately empty until he put it in me again. During the week it was terrible. I was trying so hard to behave normally with you but was torn apart with guilt and at the same time my whole body ached for the weekend to come. Since then I have been with him last Friday and tonight." Now I was shocked. The intensity of my wife's voice told me that this was a completely different matter from a simple fling with another man. "If you need an oversized organ in your cunt so badly - how do you plan to manage now your lover is no longer in even the country," I asked crudely. "I don't know," Claire said simply. "You would have had this problem even if I had not found you out." "Yes and No," she said. "Last week we went to Rick's flat but tonight he took me to a private club called, 'Hung Go'. "You mean 'Gung ho', I corrected. "No - it is a word play on what you said but the name is specific because it only accepts exceptionally well endowed men as male members. Rick had the idea that I could get what I want at the club after he had gone." "How well endowed?" "Their penis is meant to be at least nine inches long but that is not exactly the case. A very thick eight incher can be bigger than a thin nine, so the entry criteria is actually based on true size or calculated volume" "What is the club like?" "More or less like a normal club with a dance floor and bars except that there are rooms upstairs where you can go for sex. It is expensive for female members but the studs get in for only £10 and they get that back in free drinks - they do have to pay a hefty membership fee though. As a guest I got in free and was vetted for membership because the women also have to meet a certain standard in looks and figure." "So you would go along, pick the cock you fancy and then go upstairs." "Yes, more or less. It is pure sex - you don't even know their names." "Did you make use of the facilities while you were there," I had to ask. "Rick and I used one of the rooms; in fact we spent most of the time up there. He did offer to let me try out one of the studs but I wanted to have it with only him one last time. I came home just now planning to go back there by myself in a week or so." I looked at my wife in disbelief. "How can you possibly sit there and tell me that," I snarled. "Earlier on I talked about forgiving you and I did think it was possible. Everybody runs the risk of being overcome by physical attraction and acting completely out of character. I could have understood and possibly forgiven but what you just said is a different order of deceit. You are talking about is leaving our home and quite cold bloodedly going off to screw a totally anonymous man. I don't know how you can even contemplate doing something like that." Claire looked at me with two big tears rolling down her cheeks, "You don't understand," she said. "I could go with strange men with far less conscience than I have suffered from cheating with Rick. For a man infidelity is all about sex, penetration and cum but for a woman it is more to do with the feelings and emotions involved. I still don't think that I had an affair with Rick because I didn't like him from the start and despite the sex I don't like him as a person now. It was only ever pure sex but despite that, working with him there were times that we exchanged secret looks that shared knowledge of the things we had done together. Now that was a relationship and it made me feel terribly guilty because the only man I am entitled to have a relationship with is you. Ian, I had convinced myself that for me to take five hours out from our marriage occasionally to satisfy my craving for giant cocks would be less of a betrayal than what I have already done. I still love you so very much and my hunger for sensations is a curse that can lose me everything I ever wanted." Realising that Claire too was suffering in her own way let me see things from a different perspective. Understanding opened the way for forgiveness - but whether I could truly forgive or not, I knew that I did not want to lose this woman from my life. "So what do you plan to do now that I know," I asked. "Go cold turkey, I suppose," Claire said, forcing a wan smile. I held out my arms. "It helps that you are never going to see the bastard again because I don't know if I could say this if he was still around," I murmured and then paused before saying, "As far as I am concerned, none of what you just told me ever happened." The next moment she was in my arms and some minutes later we went to bed. There was no sex but we lay holding each other very tightly and amazingly, I fell asleep almost straight away. The following two nights I had possibly the best sex of my life as my wife made every effort to reward me for my understanding. The rest of the week also passed pleasantly and I was beginning to congratulate myself on having escaped the blip on our marriage relatively unscathed, until Friday night arrived. I suppose that I had noticed Claire growing tenser but was still totally shocked when she pushed me away roughly in bed crying, "I can't, Ian I just can't." We sat up and tried to talk it through calmly. "I want you so much with my mind but my body wants more," she explained. "The craving is just building up. When we are doing ordinary things I can just about handle it but sex makes the pain more than I can stand. Darling, the only answer until I have beaten this is totally celibacy. I know that it is very unfair on you and in fact you don't have to do without. We can afford for you to go with a prostitute twice a week if you want to - and I don't mean one walking the streets. You are entitled after all." "We are in this together - if you have to do without then I will too," I told her heroically. "Maybe no sex but lots of love and we can beat this thing. I don't want to do it with anyone else but you." It was far easier said than done. My nerves were soon tight as a bow and we were both irritable with the kids - and with each other. The love that we spoke about was little in evidence and life soon assumed a uniform drabness. It was turning into a nightmare. We didn't talk about the problem as if hoping that if it was not mentioned it would just go away - in fact it gradually got so that we hardly talked about anything at all. After a month, one Thursday as we lay not touching in bed, trying vainly for sleep, I heard myself asking, "How long do you think this will go on?" Hung Go, a Club "I don't know," my wife replied her voice heavy with despondency, "If anything I am getting worse so it could take months." Her reply triggered my decision although I had been thinking along these lines for some days. "Do you want to go to your club tomorrow night?" I asked softly. "Don't joke - if you knew how much I am hurting you couldn't be so cruel." "I'm serious. You can go to your club tomorrow if you want - I won't stand in your way." Claire sat up and switched on the light. "You know I want to but what has made you change your mind? Are you sure?" she babbled one question on top of another. "I've realised that I would far rather have a wife for all but five hours every week rather than no wife at all," I told her. "I'm just hoping that if you have your 'time out' then we might get back to how we were." [It was a bad mistake to use the word 'every' because Claire was to take this literally when her original hopes had been for only occasional visits to the club.] "Won't you mind me going with other men?" "Of course I'm going to bloody mind when you are out, I'm going to hate it like hell but I think giving you that freedom will be a small price to pay - nothing could hurt much worse than our current situation." Next thing we were screwing like mad and I am not sure if it was my wife's fervent passion of the preceding month of deprivation that made it seem so sweet. I drifted off to sleep in a haze of euphoria but the following evening the piper was there to be paid. I saw her off quite cheerfully. The children helped because although in their night clothes they were still up and with kisses all round we might have been sending her off for a quite normal evening out. It was a different an hour later when I was sitting alone, nursing a glass of whiskey and fighting the carnal images that kept encroaching into my mind. I tried to tell myself that after Rick it hardly mattered and that it was nothing more than animalistic sex with no significance but this logic did not stop the searing agony of jealousy nearly tearing me apart. The perverse thing was that for most of that time I suffered from an uncontrollable erection. Claire got home a few minutes after midnight, up to two hours earlier than earlier that I expected. "How did it go?" I asked. "Fine," she said in an off-hand way but the calm satiated look on her face gave the answer to my question. I waited until we were both holding cups of tea before asking, "So what happened?" My wife reached out to place her hand on top of mine and said softly, "Ian love. It was meant to be five hours out from our marriage and this thing won't work if it is anything else but that. If I start telling you things, it will bring you into it and probably ruin the new loving relationship I want to have with you from now on." I think that part of me had been hoping to learn all the dirty details but I accepted her reticence. However, I had another disappointment in store. Getting hold of Claire in bed she evaded my grasp saying, "It's too close sweetheart - but if you wait until tomorrow I will make all your birthdays come at once. I promise." The whole weekend was a dream and my happiness continued throughout the week, so much so that when the next Friday arrived it came as a shock. I spent another evening in hell and the following Friday was worse. The intervening days were beautiful but as Friday followed Friday, my jealous agonies increased. The trouble was in not knowing exactly what happened between my wife leaving home and her return. Claire maintained that this was my protection but I believed that if I had a more accurate picture then I could handle it far better. So one night I asked her to describe the club. "I don't want to know about the men you go with (I did really) but I would like to know about the club," I said. "If I know that it is not some kind of dive then I will have more peace of mind." Very reluctantly Claire told me, "It is actually very classy. The room is circular with a fat crescent moon shape where the studs and the girls can dance. Along the wall there are three separate semi-circular bars. The much smaller area for husbands and partners is partitioned off with floor to ceiling bars so that they cannot get into the members area and cause trouble." "Husbands? You never told me that husbands can go!" "I didn't tell you because only a certain kind of husband would want to go and I knew that you are not that type." "What kind of husband? I don't know what you mean," I asked genuinely bemused. "They're called 'cuckolds,'" Claire explained, "They are husbands who get pleasure from their wives having sex with other men or at least pretend that they do. For some of them watching is the only sex that they get and that certainly isn't the case with you." "Whether I am that type of husband or not I want to go," I said adamantly. "I promise that I won't interfere or even talk to you about anything that I see but I'm determined to see the place for myself. I have not been with a whore or made any demands for giving you a free rein so I think you owe me this at least." Very unhappily my wife agreed but said, "I'll take you on a Saturday night instead of Friday - my mum and dad can baby-sit. Saturdays there is a bit of a sex show and that will be something for you to look at." I awaited my date with destiny, suffering a mixture of excited anticipation and dread. In the car Claire warned me, "We'll have to separate in the lobby. You will be taken to the cuck... husband's locker room and given a kind of Roman toga to wear - I will be dressing up as well. You then go up some spiral stairs - don't forget to take some cash with you because there is a bar. Up there you can watch the dancing or there are some TV sets and you can also chat with some of the other husbands." In the lobby, after we had paid, Claire gave me a loving kiss, held me very tight for a brief second and then she was gone. I got issued with my toga, got changed in the locker room then mounted the stairs. At the top I immediately turned my eyes towards the partition, half hoping that my wife was already on the floor. There were about ten couples dancing. At first glance the females appeared to be completely naked but closer inspection showed them to be wearing the absolute minimum in attire. The men were the same; some were wearing small sleeveless jackets but most wore nothing except a brightly coloured testicle holder. All pricks were way above average size and most were at least semi erect, with this effect encouraged by the cock rings that seemed to be universal. Looking round the small enclave in which I stood, I saw some half a dozen guys dressed in togas as I was, one of whom was sitting before one of the screens watching some sexual activity. The other five had a kind of wild look in their eyes. On reflection I decided that the word should have been 'haunted' rather than 'wild' and wondered if the same look was apparent in my own eyes. One of the guys seemed familiar and that that moment he looked, recognised me and came over. "I wondered if I would see you here," he said. I was still struggling to place him, so on realising this he explained, "I'm John and I work at Benson Systems, the same as Claire. I'm in the telecommunications department and my wife Gill works in Data prep - do you remember, we met at the firms Xmas do." John was of slim build and seemed rather young, standing there gazing owlishly at me through thick glasses. I shook his hand but before I could speak he said with what seemed like pride, "Gill was the first woman that Rick fucked at Benson's. The first day he arrived she said 'I'm going to have him' and she did before the end of the week. She'd been cheating on me before that of course - even at our wedding reception I caught her in the cloakroom sucking the dick of one of the caterers. I was upset about that but she said it meant nothing, she said, 'The guy had been very helpful and deserved a reward but I hadn't any money to tip him.' I was also unhappy when she started screwing other guys within weeks of the wedding until she pointed out that I was being silly. Gill made me see that she needs far more sex than I do. Up until I met her I didn't have any sex at all but now I have more than I ever dreamed possible - even though a lot of that is just watching." I vividly remembered Gill - small and blonde with vivacious face, compact round body and a wanton look in her eyes. "You and I have something in common," John was saying, "I mean with Gill being the first to shag Rick and Claire being the last." That shocked me. "People at the firm knew about Claire?" John nodded enthusiastically. "There was a lot of betting about whether he would manage to get it up her or not. Most people lost because they thought she would hold out but they didn't know about the size of his dick. Gill said that he had only to give her one look at his secret weapon and Claire was certain to surrender - and she was right. My winnings paid us both in here for a couple of nights." "Speaking of Gill - where is she?" I had to ask. "She's just gone up with a big black guy who calls himself Othello - he's meant to have the biggest cock of all of them," John told me happily. "Gill usually likes to go up twice with different studs but as she has pulled Othello she might stick with him tonight. Claire always sticks with one I think - last Friday she had that older guy just the other side of the rail. He's meant to like his sex a bit rough - Gill doesn't know for sure because she prefers them younger." Despite myself I looked to see a completely bald headed men in his middle forties. He had a barrel chest matted with black hair and tattoos on the bulging biceps of both arms. His cock, while expectedly huge, appeared gnarled and battle-scarred. "We come at here least twice every week, it's cheaper that way," John babbled on. "It costs £40 for the first night, £20 the second then £10 and £5. We are regulars on Friday and Saturday and try to slip in at least one other night." "So what happens now?" "Do you want to watch the dance floor to see if you can spot Claire? While you are looking I can tell you who is who and any other men that I know have fucked your wife. I've still got a moment before getting into action so we have a few minutes spare," he added, glancing anxiously at his watch. I was not sure what his last sentence meant but was distracted by seeing my lovely wife and she looked spectacular. Claire was wearing high heels, a minuscule white thong and simple nipple covers, each held in place by a couple of white laces. She was in the arms of a muscular hunk who could have been a refugee from Gladiators but what riveted my attention was the fact that he was reaching round to lustily squeeze the cheeks of her bum while I suspected that she was holding his cock. John kept chattering on but I missed what he said, being so fixated on watching my wife. "Come on, we don't want to miss the start," I heard John say and then felt him pulling on my arm. He dragged me over to one of the large televisions where he sat down leaving me standing behind the chair. "Gill is in room fifteen," he explained typing that number on the remote control and then half turned to apologise "I'm afraid there's only one set of earphones so I'm afraid you won't get any sound." On the screen there appeared the image of a large round bed and then Gill and her escort walked into shot. Down the right side of the screen was a column of four smaller pictures showing the same scene from different angles. "There are five cameras in every room with a zoom facility on all of them," I heard my new found friend explaining." For the next twenty minutes I watched a carnal extravaganza with John's fingers flicking on the remote control as if he were in the process of creating a pornographic masterpiece. Throughout John compensated for my lack of sound by providing his own commentary with remarks such as "Wow - just look at that," and, "She has got to be really sore after this." From first entering this sexual den of iniquity my cock had been shrivelled to almost non-existence but now I had a throbbing erection so it must have been sixth sense that caused me to look towards the railings to see Claire beckoning to me. I ran over eagerly with the irrational hope that she wanted to go home but then I saw the hunk standing behind her. "Ian this is Jason," she said softly. Polite upbringing caused me to hold out my hand but he ignored it. "Jason and I are going somewhere to be alone for a while, I thought you ought to know" she said gently. Then, pushing her face through the bars to give me a tender kiss on the lips, she murmured "You shouldn't really be here," before stepping away with pity in her eyes. I know that I should have closed my eyes until they had gone but some masochistic urge cause me to look down at the blue veined arrogant organ soon to be embedding in my wife's soft body. The anguish this caused left me rooted to the spot so I was in position to witness a personal exchange that showed how relatively well I had been treated. Another wife had brought a temporary lover to flaunt before a confined husband but this poor spouse received but a rudimentary peck on the cheek and then had to watch as the other male was treated to a passionate and prolonged open mouth full tongue kiss. John joined me to report that Gill had turned the cameras off. "I don't know what they are going to get up to but she'll tell me all about it at home," he said happily. I could not understand why he was so unconcerned and even derived pleasure from his situation. However, on reflection I decided that perhaps he had the right idea and that instead of mentally fighting it, I might be better enthusiastically embracing my cuckoldry the way he did. "What room is your wife in," John asked and when I shook my head in puzzlement he said, "Either she forgot because this is your first time or she didn't want you to watch." I suspected that it was the latter. With nothing better to do we wandered slowly along the row of screens upon which several toga'd men were watching scenes of sexual activity. Reaching the end of the row John said, "Excuse me while I pop out the back. By the way I better warn you - there is no tossing off in here so it's the toilets or nothing. Most of these guys need to do it at least once during the evening and some go back there in pairs - if you get what I mean." While John was satisfying his emotional needs, my attention was caught by a group of four men at the bar were forcing drinks on a nervous looking fourth. When John got back I asked, "What do you think is going on there?" "He is going to get his balls stretched and from the look of him I guess it is his first time," John informed me. I pressed for more information but my friend grinned, saying, "Wait and see. It won't be long - look he's going down now." As I watched the guy with apparent testicle torture in store walked unsteadily to the spiral staircase and disappeared from view down to a lower floor. The next activity that caught our eye were bouncers clearing an area of dance floor by the middle of the arc of rails and when the dancers were well back that section of floor began to sink. After some minutes it rose again but with a bed in the centre. On the bed lay a nude woman but more significantly, at the far side of the bed was a higher dais upon which stood a chair and on the chair was a naked chained man. His arms and legs were clamped and he had a ball gag in his mouth. The chair itself was peculiar in that an arc of seat had been removed to that the guy's genitals were hanging over fresh air. From the testicles, four chains hung down to suspend a round brass scale. "The woman is the guy's wife or partner," John explained. "Any of the studs can go up and give her one - it doesn't matter if it is a fuck or a blow-job because for every load of cum she collects, a two ounce weight goes on the scale. So the more she puts out, the more hubby suffers - in two ways. Neat isn't it," "It's prehistoric and sadistic," I said shocked, "He could be seriously injured - I'm sure this kind of thing must be against the law." "This club is very careful to stay within the law - I'll explain how later. The chains and scale tray weigh a pound in total and few women want to take on more than sixteen guys so there are limits. The historical record is twenty-three. Anyway, it is all medically checked and the guy's are all volunteers." "Who the fuck would volunteer for something like that," I exploded. "I have, it will be my turn in three weeks" he said. "But why?" "Mainly because Gill wants to be the woman doing the gang bang." "Good God man - that is not enough reason to put yourself through that kind of ordeal," I exploded. "I love her though - I'll do anything to keep her happy," John said sincerely. "Anyway, it not as bad as it looks. Gill has had me in training for over a month now - you soon get used to the pain and up to a point there is quite a lot of pleasure. At the moment I can stand up to three pounds dangling but after fifteen minutes I have had enough - here it can last up to an hour and a half. Still, I've almost three weeks to go and Gill will make sure I'm ready - to inspire me she always sucks me off if I can manage to beat my record from the day before." "How the fuck did you get started on that?" I wanted to know. "Gill took my prick in her mouth and she doesn't often do that but then she got hold of my balls and started pulling them down. It hurt but the nice feelings from her tongue kind of cancelled that out and I did not want her to stop. From that we progressed to proper stretching. Now we have the pucker gear from a bondage shop but it started with a pair of shoelaces and they are almost as good. You need thick laces like those in football boots and they are tied together, with a slip knot loop at either end. Both loops can go round the whole ball sack or one on each testicle separately - depending on the effect that you want. Anyway, putting a foot in the middle of the lace and pushing applies the amount of pressure that you need - I prefer doing it myself because Gill does get too enthusiastic." I was amazed that a man could quite calmly describe to me the genital torture inflicted on him and I think John resented the look of disbelief on my face. "You don't understand do you?" he said. "I can tell that you are up tight about Claire being stuffed by giant cocks but it's worse for me because my wife doesn't just look for big ones, I sometimes think that she wants to get fucked by every cock in the world except mine. Perhaps I give the impression that it doesn't bother me and I have learned to get pleasure out of my situation but I still have a jealous pain like a cancer deep in my gut constantly eating away at me. Well this other pain is the only thing that blanks that out, even temporarily." This confession of his true vulnerability rather stunned me but before I could think up a suitable response action starting on the bed and rather inhibited further conversation. A young black guy in an obviously eager condition had moved to stand at the foot of the bed. His dick was not much more than nine inches and not unduly thick but the woman, who I now noticed bore a vague resemblance to Claire, shuffled down to meet him. She placed herself with buttocks slightly overhanging the end of the bed and the guy slotted himself in without preliminaries. At the same time a white guy in his thirties, again with only standard stud equipment, placed himself at the side of the bed and the subject of the gang bang turned her head to take the second penis in her mouth. My gaze flicked to the face of the captive husband but distance prevented me from reading any emotion in his eyes. I think that being first in line had caused the two male performers to be over eager because they concluded more or less simultaneously in just over three minutes where the successive studs were to average between five and ten minutes a time. The woman was left with cum on her chin and more in the crack of her cunt while the two males, duty done, each claimed a weight to proudly place on the tray dangling from the cuckold's balls. Hung Go, a Club Two replacements immediately moved to occupy the vacated orifices and I noticed that a line of other studs had formed themselves into a loose queue. I scanned the line of cocks, all shapes, cut and uncut, but uniformly large and potently erect. I had to admit that they looked impressive. A moment of honest insight let me see that this was the natural order of things - beautiful women deserved to be serviced by prime equipment. I felt less badly about Claire's infidelity in the realisation that it was only nature taking its course. Were I a woman, could I honestly say that I would turn down the chance of being fucked by a real cock, no matter how much I loved my husband? Philosophically extending the argument, how many women who remain completely faithful when married to husbands with an average endowment or less, do so only because they have the good fortune (or misfortune) of never having been exposed to real temptation? The third pair was now in action. The guy between her legs was again black but he had the most spectacular cock to see action so far, at least ten inches and proportionately thick. I saw the woman react to it being inside her and privately bet that this would be the first stud to make her cum. The face of the cuckold was also showing distress for the first time and as his testicular penalty was still far from excessive; I reckoned that he had to be showing reaction to the events on the bed. I looked at the blow-job in progress and almost jolted back in shock because, the hollowed cheeks of the woman made her more than resemble my wife - for a long instant, I actually believed that it was she. My heart began to pound, I felt very hot and my already stiff penis gave an enthusiastic jerk. For the first time I contemplated joining a possibly long queue for a toilet cubicle the moment that the show was over. I had not suffered a mere one off mental aberration because, as male followed male to the bed, the more the woman looked like Claire until I began wishing that the woman being so soundly fucked was indeed my lovely wife. The tortured husband had for some time being suffering from the pain in his balls, visibly cringing as each new weight was added. The tightly stretched skin appeared shiny and his testicles were a rich purple plum colour. My gaze drifted away from the action on the bed to the faces of the ring of watchers. I was struck by the look of unnatural excitement apparent on the faces of all the women. Many of the men showed the same emotion but on the females it was uniform and I could not help thinking that the same syndrome must have been evident at medieval public executions. Then I spotted Claire standing towards the rear of spectators. I immediately hoped this would give me opportunity to study both my wife and her lover for the evening, without their knowledge but Claire's eyes flicked towards the cuckold area and our gaze met. She jolted back in almost physical shock and looked away quickly but a few moments later her eyes again found mine and she gestured urgently that I should move to a part of the barrier away from the crowd of togas. "Get changed, we are going home," she ordered the moment that we met at the bars. In the car I could not think of anything to say that would not be either trite or intrusive so I kept quiet and Claire seemed to be nursing some private emotion. In the end to break the silence I said, "I'm surprised all that isn't illegal but a guy in there says that it is all within the law." "The club owners go to a lot of trouble to keep it legal even though some of the rules are completely ridiculous," my wife told me. "Nakedness is not allowed which is why everybody has to wear something no matter how small and irrespective of what it conceals. Groping is allowed on the dance-floor but no sex, no even blow-jobs but on the other hand that whole bed thing is permitted because it is technically classed as a performance. Oh yes - and the only reason that the studs have to pay for admittance is to prevent the club being classed as a male brothel." We drove for several more miles without speaking and then Claire suddenly said with feeling, "I don't want to take you to the club any more - it's just not right." Her words were a blow but I made no protest and after a further silence she felt compelled to explain, "It destroys the illusion that I am stepping out of the marriage into a different world for a short time - with you there it makes you part of it. Upstairs tonight it felt totally wrong, mainly because I couldn't stop thinking about you and worrying about how you were feeling. That is why I wanted to come home early - Jason was rather miffed when I dumped him." "You've got it all wrong," I started to say but as we had just arrived outside our house, I waited until our baby-sitters had left and we were sitting with cups of tea before starting again. "You're wrong. You are imagining how you would feel in my situation and then accrediting me with that reaction. For me waiting at home is far worse than being there. Using the terms current where I work - at the club, I can quantify, place into context and then adjust to the situation. There is also the benefit of having something to watch and other men to talk where at home I am on my own, struggling with the unknown and with no distraction. I am far more relaxed at this moment that on any of the Fridays that you have been there before." I could tell from Claire's face that this was a revelation to her. "You mean that it didn't bother you seeing me go upstairs with Jason and knowing that we were going to..." "Of course it bothered me - but far less than sitting at home knowing that you were doing the exactly same thing with some unknown man I had to imagine. It helped that I had no objections to Jason - well far less than that ugly far older guy who fucked you last week. I didn't like the look of him at all but I could still handle it." Claire was looking at me with a puzzled wide eyed expression, so I explained, "John who works at your firm told me who you had been with - he was there with his wife Gill." Claire nodded. "Yes, I have noticed them at the club. Gill really is a nymphomaniac - most lunchtimes at work she does it with a guy in the mailroom. John sits next door eating his sandwiches and he is bound to know what is going on, everybody else does. At least I managed to keep my thing with Rick secret." "Think again," I said with a grin. "John told me that a book was run on whether he would manage to screw you and I gather that quite a lot of money changed hands when he did get his leg over." The fact that I found that amusing caused Claire to relax and she started smiling back. "I've been a bit selfish and short-sighted," Claire admitted. "I can compartmentalise and thought that if I did that, what I do would have no effect on our marriage but I failed to see it from your point of view. I've been congratulating myself on getting what I need while only causing you the minimum distress but that isn't the case is it? I love you, I love our marriage and I don't want to damage it, so what do you want to do?" "For a start I have to come to terms with the fact that my wife screws other men and you've got to tell me all that I need to know." "All right, I'll tell you everything and in as much detail as you want but I'm not sure that I can handle you coming to the club every time," Claire conceded. "It would be unfair to impose on your parents to baby-sit every Saturday so how about you going by yourself on Friday's some weeks and us both going Saturday on others - I've already promised John that I will watch him being star of the show in three weeks." "How about two Fridays for me by myself for each Saturday with us both going?" Claire offered, immediately slipping into negotiating mode. "I agree to that but only on condition you tell me your room number on the nights that I'm there?" It was obvious that my wife wasn't too happy with my stipulation, "I don't like the thought of you actually watching me so I will have to give that some thought before I agree." "There is nothing for you to think about because that is non-negotiable," I stated firmly. "OK, I will tell you my room number and I promise not to turn the cameras off but you only go to the club with me one week in four," Claire decided. I was not willing to sacrifice that extra week and was about to object when my wife continued, "You probably don't know but you can bring away a CD containing everything that you see on screen. Watching that should keep you nicely distracted the other three weeks." That was the end of the conversation for we went to bed together a few minutes later. On the landing, Claire tried to peel off towards the shower but did not protest when I urged her straight into the bedroom. I think she was lulled by the established 'no sex on club nights' rule but once in bed I began to make my carnal intentions known. Even in this she was reasonably acquiescent, only murmuring, "Are you sure?" but when I tried to get my head between her legs, she began to violently resist. I suppose that I raped her but it was rape with my tongue. At the start, she was fiercely hammering on the back of my head with her fists but once I had roughly forced her clamped thighs apart and got my mouth in place, resistance ceased, to be quickly replaced by a radical switch. "Yes, Yes," she gasped, "Suck all Jason's nasty cum out of me, I want you to swallow every drop." This was closely followed by the three most momentous oral orgasms I had ever given her. The following week was genuinely the most relaxed and happy since the whole thing started. I was so confident that I had cracked it that I was actually looking forward to Friday evening but the moment that my wife drove away, that changed. Despite Claire's promise that she would tell me everything on her return I found that being alone was worse than before, especially has I had not yet got anything to watch. I had got it desperately wrong. I now realised that I needed to be there, to see her go off to have sex with her chosen stud for the night and then watch it happening on the wide screen TV. The jealous twisted feeling in my gut verged on agony and my cock was so stiff that it had changed from a source of pleasure into additional pain. After an hour of frustrated torment I went upstairs, dug out some old trainers from the back of the wardrobe and removed the laces. I tied them together and then very carefully prepared a loop at each end, complete with slipknots.