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The Old Pals Act

By: ukresearcher



BE WARNED. Stories don't always slot neatly into categories. This tale has a strong cuckold theme but would also qualify for Gay Male and, except for the lack of hypnotism, would also fit in Mind Control. If someone were to assert that this belongs in Fetish, I wouldn't dispute that fact because I seriously considered putting it there but what the hell.

*****

Once a month I had to make a 200 mile round trip connected with my work. It had become my habit on the return trip to stop and eat at the motorway services when only an hour away from home. The reason for this was that Sylvia my wife regularly worked the 2 p.m. until 10 p.m. shift at a call centre. This work routine meant that we saw comparatively little of each other during the week but we made up for at weekends. In addition, due to the dual income, we had been able to afford to get our house looking very nice and we managed a really fabulous holiday every year. The important thing was that we spent every night together because our lives revolved around bed. Sylvia was a passionate girl and always eager, my only complaint being that she had a rather conventional idea of what was proper - so much so that long before I had decided that pushing her to be more adventurous was actually counter productive. 

We had been married for six glorious years. Sylvia was the first girl that I met after my return from London - (I must point out that this was not the same town as that in which I spent my childhood).

I think that I must have set my expectations too low because I had been out with some real dogs and at first sight; Sylvia seemed out of my league. So it was with great surprise that I found her responding favourably to my tentative advances. This girl has everything - but nothing to excess. She is very attractive but falls short of being beautiful, her figure is good without being blatantly so and if there is an asset that she does tend to flaunt, it is the sheer perfection of her legs. Sylvia is brunette with shoulder length wavy hair. Two years younger than me, she was nineteen when we met and we were married just over a year later.

A couple of weeks before that ceremony she asked, "Do you want me to tell you about my past life?"

"No," I replied and then added gallantly, "As far as I am concerned, your life began the moment that I met you." There were times afterwards when I did rather regret that hasty decision.

This particular return trip, instead of the usual services, I had gone to a transport café on a different route due to the rather lurid tales that I had heard about the establishment. There were a lot of lorry drivers there together with quite a smattering of single women but the most striking thing was the very attractive waitresses whose uniforms left little to the imagination. It may have been all in my mind but I felt that there was an undoubted air of decadence about the place.

I stood just inside the door for a minute or two, partly checking the place out but mainly trying to spot a vacant table. There were none that I could see but there was one with only a single male occupant who was sitting with his back to me. Walking over, I had just started to politely ask if the other chairs were free, when I realised that I knew him. "Brad?" I asked, believing that I must be mistaken.

He looked up and his face broke into a smile. "Jeff - it's been a long time."

I had last seen Brad ten years before and at that time he had been my closest friend. At the start there had been four of us - actually before that there had been three - me, Spike and Joey. I knew those two at junior school but we had not been particular friends then. However, like me, the two of them won places at a Grammar school that still operated, within travelling distance and as we were the only boys from our immediate area going to the school, it threw us together as natural friends. We were all average height but looking in the mirror quite objectively I decided that I had more going for me than either of my two pals.

Then during our last year at the Grammar school we were joined by Brad, whose parents had just moved into the area. If we were the three musketeers, Brad was D'Artagnan - and he soon made himself into the leader. Although the same age, he was two inches taller and also broader - he was also the lucky recipient of classic good looks. Somewhere in his ancestry there must have been mixed blood because throughout the year he seemed to have a permanent light tan and the tan, together with very fair hair and blue eyes, made a very striking combination. When you read of female schoolteachers seducing pupils, it becomes more understandable if you imagine Brad as the object of affection.

Out of school we went everywhere as a small gang, spending many hours exploring the countryside. At this point I must touch on a dicey subject. It is considered quite normal for adolescent boys (and possibly girls) to indulge in a curious exploration of homosexuality. Many times when deep in a wood or on the edge of a lonely field, we would sit in a line masturbating, competing to see who could shoot cum the furthest. There was no competition because Brad always won but then he had by far the best equipment. Where the three others measured out at around six inches, he was a good 50% bigger at nine inches with the extra length supported by girth. He really had a superb penis.

Although we remained a four, a natural split within the gang placed Spike and Joey together, leaving me with Brad. Now on our excursions, during our group masturbation sessions, the other two took to tossing each other off. I would rather have liked to get my hands on Brad's organ but he announced that wanking other guy's dicks was not his thing so I had to content myself with admiring it from afar.

Brads parents were the kind of people who spend their time at seminars and conferences with the result that they spent long periods of time away from home. This gave Brad the run of his home, sometimes for days at a time, with only a visiting housekeeper to put any constraint on his behaviour. It was natural that on bad weather days with nowhere to go, the four of us always congregated at Brad's place.

By now we were all in the sixth form and all celebrated our eighteenth birthdays within the space of a month. That turned out to be a dividing line because Spike and Joey, having met two sisters at a party started to absent themselves from our group to explore the attractions of the opposite sex. This left Brad and I alone and we carried on as normal for a while. Then one day I turned up at his house to find that he had a surprise for me. "I've found some videos in my Dad's stuff, do you want to watch?" I think that by today's standards it was pretty soft porn but there was plenty of nudity and even if the sex was simulated, it was real enough for us. We both got our pricks out to stroke as we watched but after a while, I found myself more interested in looking at his penis than the athletics on the screen. I loved the sheen on the tight skin and was fascinated at how the blue veins actually pulsed as I watched. Eventually, noticing my preoccupation, Brad said, "You can hold it if you want."

He made no effort to reciprocate, instead leaning back with hands behind his head, happy to let me do whatever I wanted. I was in seventh heaven. That first thrill of holding his living throbbing flesh in my fingers is indescribable. The TV, the whole world, nothing existed apart from the glorious thing in my hand. I was not aware that Brad eyes were also no longer on the screen and instead were fixed on me watching my fingers at work. Neither was I aware that I had stated compulsively licking my lips as I gazed at the globule of pre-cum oozing out of his slit. "I won't think any less of you if you want to put in your mouth," he said softly.

Until he spoke, the desire had not formulated in my mind but instantly I knew that is what I wanted to do. I knew about gays and what they did and I knew that this was regarded by many as perverted behaviour. I had been taught to think so too but in a strange way this was different. The idea of having either Spike or Joey put their dick in my mouth was gross and still filled me with revulsion but that rule just didn't seem to apply. Brad's penis was not just a prick, it was an entity which somehow transcended barriers of gender. An organ like that demanded to be worshipped by members of both sexes.

All the time that I was sucking, my body trembled uncontrollably. That was not for very long because due to the novelty of the situation, Brad had very little self control - he lasted far longer on the many future occasions. His cum flooding into my mouth took me by surprise but that didn't matter because, right from the first moment, I hadn't even considered not seeing it through to the end. In the midst of the emotion engendered by having that delicious creamy nectar on my tongue, I shot my own load to form a long sticky streak on the carpet. "We won't tell the other guys about this," Brad warned when I was back sitting rather dazedly by his side. "We'll keep it to ourselves - it can be our thing."

I lived for it after that, often hanging back awkwardly until after the other two had left so that I could collect my ration of hot spunk. Spike and Joey were full of triumphant tales of getting inside girls pants so Brad suggested that we should grab a slice of that kind of action. We had very little difficulty picking up succession of girls but I have to admit this was due almost exclusively to Brad's charm. After leaving the first pair of girls that we dated, Brad asked if I had got my end away and I had to admit that I had achieved only one brief squeeze at a breast from outside her clothes. When I returned the query he said, "Easy peasy. I like it - you know I think that I am going to devote my life to fucking women."

As girl followed girl I began to think that I was singularly unlucky due to the high proportion of pick-ups who told me, "I would do it love only it's the wrong time of the month." Other excuses were, "I promised my mother last week that I wouldn't let boys do it to me any more," and "My sister's just dropped pregnant and my mum says she'll kill me if the same thing happens to me." At the end of six months the best that I got was the occasional sticky finger. I did not tell Brad about my failure, preferring to pretend by using macho phrases such as 'she loved it' and 'said that I was the best ever', without ever being too specific. I reckoned that just by law of averages, Brad had to draw a blank sometimes, so from his uniform reports of success, I concluded that he was lying as well as me.

I was not too bothered by my string of failures because I got so much pleasure from doing 'our thing' with Brad. Interspersed with chasing talent, we continued to have private sessions whenever possible.

Sometimes, after seeing our respective girls home, I went back to his place for the odd half hour and I can confirm that at least two of his claimed shags were genuine because there was the undoubted taste of cunt on his cock.

We sat our A-levels and both did rather well. The plan was to go on to college together but a few months after my nineteenth birthday, on a whim I left home to take up an apprenticeship in London.

It was a year before I first paid a visit back home to be told that Brad had gone to Australia with his parents. 

There was a lot to catch up on. Brad guessed that I was married and I told him for how long, providing a fulsome description of my wife. My old friend revealed that he had tried marriage but it had only lasted for three years. "She caught me in bed with our male lodger," he explained with a laugh, going on to tell me that he was now 100% gay. "It was you who planted the seeds of destruction," he reminded.

The words rather shocked me because it was a long time since I had thought about my teenage behaviour. When I did remember it was with a feeling of shame and I could not understand how I could possibly have done anything like that. During the years since I had last seen him, although I cast an appreciative glance at almost every female that passed, I had never once looked at a passing male in even a remotely sexual way. In fact passing members of my own sex rarely registered on my consciousness. "In the past ten years," he was saying, "I have been with no more than a dozen women all told but I must have had a hundred times that number of male partners. The last female that I bedded was over three years ago and that was an accident. She found that I was having a thing with her husband and came round to my flat in a very irate mood. I had to give her one to calm her down and for a few weeks after that I was screwing her during the afternoon and her hubby in the evening - or was it vice versa."

His words sparked off a twinge of the old jealous rivalry because before meeting Sylvia, I had managed sex with no more than six different women. "I thought you had gone to Australia?" I asked, preferring to quickly change the subject.

"I was there a couple of years but then came back on my own. I'm a freelance trucker now and I am doing rather well at it," Brad told me with a touch of pride. "I'm in this area to pick up a brand new rig that's costing me the earth. Trouble is that it won't be ready for another two weeks. I should have grabbed the chance of a decent holiday but to tell the truth, I've got every last penny tied up in the new vehicle. I hand in my present truck tomorrow and then I will just have to find some digs and kick my heels until the new one is ready."

"I'm sure that we can put you up," I heard myself say without having known that I was going to make the offer. Immediately I hoped that he would refuse.

"That is really good of you Jeff - you will hardly know that I am there," he said, leaving me on the hook. "Are you sure that your wife won't mind?"

This gave me a possible escape but I could not see how to use it. "She'll be fine," I assured him, admitting defeat as I did so. Brad followed me home while I kept track of him through the rear view mirror. I was seriously concerned that Sylvia might be less pleased at being lumbered with an unexpected guest but I need not have worried. My wife had only got home from work minutes before we arrived. "I bumped into an old school friend - we are going to put him up for a few days," I explained half apologetically as I led him into the house. 

Sylvia's face lit up with genuine pleasure. "I have wanted to meet one of Jeff's old friends - he has told me so much about you," she said but when my old pal stepped forward saying "I'm Brad," a look of puzzlement crossed her face. "Jeff has talked about Joe and is it Spike but I can't remember him mentioning you."

Brad grinned disarmingly. "We used to go picking up girls together and I can understand why he wanted to play that down with you."

Sylvia laughed happily. "And I bet you were a couple of rogues. Well now you can reveal all the dirty secrets from his past."

When we were in bed she came back to the subject and asked the real reason that I had neglected to speak about Brad. This was dangerous ground so, rather lamely, I stuck to his cover story and pointed out that as she had told me nothing of her romantic past, I had steered clear of any reference to mine. I had expected that with a stranger in the house, Sylvia would be inhibited in our love-making but instead she was even more passionate than usual. Next morning I had to get up early to go to work. I always left her in bed, quite often still asleep. She was awake. "Your friend is a very good looking man," she said as I was getting dressed.

"Don't get any ideas," I joked. "He is completely gay. He told me that he has not been with a woman for over three years and I gather that he is extremely promiscuous."

"What a dreadful waste," she said with real meaning and then after a moments thought asked, "Was he gay when you knew him?"

"No - not at all," I said quickly. "He must have switched after we lost touch. When we went round together it was all girls and I have to admit that he was far more successful than me."

"I can understand why," she said. I didn't like the remark but decided not to make an issue of it. I found Brad waiting in the kitchen. We had arranged that after breakfast, I would run him into town so that he would not be under my wife's feet during the morning. That evening, he met me after I finished work and we ate in a restaurant then enjoyed a couple of beers in a nearby pub. Back at the house, we topped up with more alcohol and chatted until Sylvia arrived home and had the small supper that I had prepared for her.

After that the three of us sat and talked until long after out usual bed time. I noticed that my wife was very forthright even seductive in her responses to Brad. I had heard that women were far more relaxed in the company of gay men - something to do with the fact that they did not pose a threat. This had seemed a dubious proposition to me but this seemed to be an example of the syndrome in action.

The following day followed the same initial pattern but instead of eating out I assured Brad that I was now a pretty competent cook and he was happy for me to prepare a meal at home. Afterwards we were sitting with a drink each when he said casually, "I've got a video in my bag - straight from Amsterdam." I began to shake my head doubtfully but he laughed and said," Don't worry - it's far more your kind of thing than mine."

Partly not wanting to appear hen pecked but mainly natural curiosity, I told him to put it on. For the first half hour my eyes were riveted on the graphic acts being enacted on screen but then suddenly I was shocked to see that he had got his cock out. My first reaction was to tell him that we were now far too old to indulge in public masturbation but as I started to speak the words died in my throat. The memories came flooding back. It was the same penis that I had once known so well, more battle scarred but possibly even larger now than it had been in his youth. I was aware that my heart was beating almost out of control, I seemed to have a tight band round my head and I was sweating profusely. With an effort of will, I dragged my eyes back to the screen but this self control lasted for less than a minute. Brad was lightly running his fingers lightly up and down the distended organ as if playing the piccolo. I could tell that he was fully aware of my discomfiture. "It's all yours if you want it," he said softly.

The words were insidious. It seemed inconceivable that after so long his magnificent penis could still exert such a powerful effect on me. Fighting every inch, I watched my hand stretch to touch it and at first contact all control went - I threw myself forward and took it in my mouth. The years fell away - it was as if the past decade had never been. The action and the dearly remembered taste were so freshly familiar that it was almost inconceivable to believe it had been so long since I had last sucked his cock. 

My tongue tingled and I felt as if the blood was coursing through my body with newly discovered vigour. I had come home. Brad's hand was resting lightly on my head all the time that I devotedly used my mouth to minister him to the inevitable conclusion, he gently stroked my hair softly murmuring, "There, there."

When the life giving semen flooded into my mouth, I was overwhelmed by sheer joy but at the same time my body was gripped by a series of convulsive tremors as is that of the addict reacting to a first fix following a long period of being clean. But as the euphoria died away I was gripped by a far different reaction. I felt guilt, black despairing guilt - why had I let myself do this vile thing. Brad was watching me with a quizzically. "What's the matter lover, don't you like it any more. Doing 'our thing' always made you so happy before."


The Old Pals Act



"It was different then," I managed to say. "I'm married now and I swore that I would never be unfaithful to Sylvia." 

My friend smiled almost condescendingly and said categorically, "This wasn't infidelity you know - this was just two old pals getting to know each other again." He paused to study my reaction and when I seemed less than convinced he went on, "If you go with another woman to get something your wife can give you then that is betrayal but if what you need is not available within the marriage, it is something different altogether. You would be amazed how very many married men have this other dimension to their lives and pursue it with a perfectly clear conscience."

Brad continued talking and I gradually began to feel better about what I had done. I wrote it off as a mental aberration triggered by nostalgia - something to do with trying to recapture my lost youth. However, I resolved firmly that it would not happen again.

Sylvia arrived home slightly earlier than usual and it quickly became apparent that she was in exceptionally good humour. She laughed a lot and was quick to join in light hearted humour but I slowly began to realise that she was coming-on to my friend because almost everything that she said seemed to be loaded with double meaning. My only consolation was that Brad adroitly managed to side-step the many sexually based responses that she offered him. 

By the time that I got my wife alone in the bedroom, I was very angry. "What the fuck was all that about," I exploded. "You might as well have taken your knickers off and waved them under his nose."

Sylvia was unabashed. "It was only a bit of fun," she grinned. "Look Jeff, I will admit that Brad is the most attractive man I have ever met but he's not available and that's the whole point. I suppose that he poses a challenge. Yes, I was a bit daring but I felt safe tempting him - I would never have dared behave like that otherwise." Her argument cooled me down but I was still fully dressed. She had stripped quickly and casting aside her usual modesty she lay posing provocatively on the bed. "Do you want a bit of what I would love to give to him," she goaded but on seeing the anger return to my face she said quickly, "I'm only teasing love, please come and make love to me." The preceding sexual ambience had affected her because she proved to be far more passionate than usual.

The third morning, we two males again breakfasted alone. Then and as I ran him into town he asked a lot of questions about Sylvia such as how we met and things about her background. Although his queries were very innocuous on the surface, I found that I was unwilling to divulge the information, resorting mainly to vagueness in my answers. After work I considered again taking Brad to a restaurant and not getting home until my wife was there but, feeling that I was in control of the situation took the risk of cooking another quick meal at home. When the table was cleared of dirty dishes, I got out my briefcase and spread out a lot paperwork, deliberately giving the impression that I had a lot of unfinished business from the office to deal with. When my friend started to speak I turned round and wished that I hadn't. "Shall I put on another of my videos or would you rather go straight to the bit that you like best?" he said, smiling confidently and ever so tantalisingly pulling down his zip. I gulped and took a deep breath but it was no good because my resolution melted away like summer snow.

Once I had resigned myself to the fact that I would continue to suck Brad's cock for as long as he was around, I felt much happier. I was so relaxed that later I was able to sit and watch my wife act the tart in front of our guest with utter complacency. Late on however, I did start to get to get twinges of unease at the suspicion that Brad was starting to respond to her overtures. Sylvia confirmed this impression when we were alone, "I think that I need to be more careful with your handsome friend because he is starting to succumb to my fatal charm. There is a certain gleam in his eyes and I am not convinced that he is quite the one way street that you believe he is." A little later, after we had both finished up hot and sticky, I reflected on the benefits of having Brad as a houseguest because, apart from the fellatio stuff, having him around kept Sylvia in a permanently aroused state.

Next morning at work I felt on top of the world. There was a spring in my step in my step and I was aware of a glow of wellbeing. Two separate people actually stopped me to say, "You look pleased with yourself - won the lottery or something?" That evening having cooked and eaten a quick meal I sat and watched Brad insert the video, trembling with anticipation at what I was about to do. But instead of activating the remote control, my friend turned and faced me with a serious expression on his face. "We have got to talk - you see I have a very big favour that I want to ask of you."

It had got to be money and I knew that we currently had a decent amount in the bank. "Ask away old friend - I don't think that there is much that I can refuse you," I told him benevolently.

"Sylvia, your wife is a very lovely woman and as you know it is over three years since I have had that kind of sex," he began and then added quickly, "No - it's not what you think - I would just like to watch - you know you and her together. If you could leave your bedroom door open so that I can take a peek in. I just want to remind myself what it was like."

"No, No - I can't do that, it is so demeaning and Sylvia would never forgive me if she knew."

"If you won't you won't and I can respect that but don't come the 'demeaning' crap with me," he spat back with more than a touch of irritation. "That is the attitude of inadequate people who have classed a thing of beauty as pornography. Those same people can enthuse about the grace of an athlete, the beautiful lines of a racehorse and can even see beauty in two boxers in a ring but bring in sex and they call it demeaning. I can see only beauty in two attractive bodies engaged in the most natural act in the world. As for Sylvia knowing - do you honestly think that I am stupid enough to let myself get seen."

Brad could be very convincing when he wanted to be but this was a step too far. "I'm sorry. I understand what you are saying but the answer is still No."

He just shrugged and set the video going. Thinking the matter amicably settled, I moved closer and reached out for his zip but he turned away mumbling, "I don't see why I should let you get pleasure from my body when you refuse the only thing that I have ever asked from you in my life."

"Be reasonable Brad, it is two separate things," I pleaded. "If you had only asked me for something else."

Brad was not mollified. "It may seem a big thing to you but it seems a small thing to ask from my point of view. We can agree to differ and stay friends but it might be better if I moved out tomorrow - I have imposed on your hospitality enough already."

I panicked. My mind had just adjusted to having his spunk on tap for another eight days and now the prospect was being snatched away from me. "All right, I'll do it but you must promise to be very quiet."

I grabbed a tool box and took him upstairs to the bedroom he was using. When we first bought the house, after removing the connecting door, I had installed built in wardrobes on either side of the wall which separated that room from the main bedroom. The four retaining screws holding the back panel in place were easily removed allowing me to lift the panel clear and set on one side. The block of acoustic soundproofing packing from the cavity followed suit and then I walked round and removed the corresponding panel from the wardrobe in mine and Sylvia's room. All that was then needed was to move some shoes obstructing the wardrobe floor to one side. "The wardrobe door on our side is always slightly ajar and I will make sure it is like that. All you need to do is step through and you will get a good oblique view of the bed but make sure to wear something dark. I'll try and get Sylvia to leave the light on," I explained.

Having virtually blackmailed me into agreeing to his demand, Brad allowed me to collect my reward. Much of the evening after my wife got home is a blur because I was so bloody tense and nervous. I do remember that my friend was quieter than usual, (no doubt anticipation) and Sylvia noticeably back-pedalled on her previous flagrant teasing. In bed her suppressed sexuality burst out to my benefit. I started to get a kick from knowing that Brad was watching me - I had watched him often enough in the past rather than waste energy trying to prise apart the legs of the girl that I was with. I knew that I had since become quite an accomplished lover and it boosted my ego to make him aware of that fact. I started doing oral sex on her, lapping up the passion juice already flowing copiously from her slit. After a few minutes she wriggled round into the sixty-nine position and I don't think her mouth had ever felt quite so good. Next we did the position used in TV portrayal of sex, with me on my back and Sylvia squatting on top, moving herself up and down on my prick. At one point I looked across towards the wardrobe to see if I could spot Brad knowing him to be there and was shocked to find him standing outside, actually inside the bedroom. To make it worse, far from wearing something dark, he was naked apart from a pair of boxer shorts. He caught my eye and put up a thumb in approval and in return, I made desperate signals with my hand for him to get back inside the wardrobe.

Fortunately, Sylvia's eyes were closed but I knew how easy it would be to see Brad's reflection in the dressing table mirror so, as a matter of urgency, I got her onto her back with me on top. She was going absolutely crazy - I could not remember her ever being quite so passionate before. When her climax came that too was remarkable for, while in the throes of orgasm, her nails drew blood from my back for the first time ever. Afterwards I lay on my back covered in sweat and breathing heavily. I glowed from the pleasures of sex but also from pride in the knowledge that, while trying to put on a display for my friend, I had actually achieved my best fuck ever.

It was an interruption to the flow of light striking my eyelids that caused me to look. I was shocked to see my friend standing close up Sylvia's side of the bed, bollock naked and with his great weapon standing rigidly to attention in front of him. I raised my arm to urgently wave him away but as I did so her arms also rose in an unmistakable gesture of invitation. Then unbelievably, everything changed in the merest blink of an eye. One moment Brad was standing at the side of the bed gazing down at my wife and the next he was laying on top of her with his magnificent cock buried to the hilt inside her quivering quim. 

Perversely at that moment I was reminded of the Speedy Gonzales joke but no longer found any humour in it. How was it possible to go from husband of a faithful loving wife to cuckold so quickly? It had to be a dream or quirk of the imagination but after holding my eyes closed for a long second, the same scene confronted me. It was when Sylvia spoke that I knew it was true because she breathed a long sigh of pleasure and murmured, "This is nice!"

I plunged into despair, feeling that life as I knew it had been irretrievably lost. Then, in the depths of my misery, I suddenly remembered that Brad had done this to me before and I wondered how I could possibly have forgotten all about it. During those late teenage years, with all the pairs of girls of girls that we picked up for short-lived romances, I almost invariably finished up with the less attractive of the two. Then one day we got two girls where I got the better of the deal but this was mainly due to our respective heights because Stephanie his partner was too tall for me. I was with Lucy and she was a doll, petite with lots of blonde hair and curves in all the right places. The usual one night stand turned into a week, extended into two and then a month. Brad was happy to stick with Steph because of the sex, "I've never had a bird quite so eager for it. Any time any place, her legs kind of spring open on command," he told me happily.

Once a week we got together as a foursome but apart from that tended to date separately. "Are you getting your oats?" he asked more than once when we were alone and I always gave a conspiratorial wink instead of saying anything. The truth was that I had not got very far at all in the way of sex. Lucy was very enthusiastic about kissing and she was happy to let me play with her tits but that was it. Despite that I was in no hurry to end the relationship because I enjoyed being with her and she was the best looking girl that I had known. After six weeks she started occasionally letting me put my hand up her leg and I thought that this was the big break through. From then on I was always pestering, 'Let me', 'Come on - say I can do it to you', 'I know that you'll like it if you say yes'. To all my entreaties I got the same unshakeable 'NO'. One day, feeling a bit peeved at the constant rejections I complained, "Why ever not - Brad and Stephanie are at it all the time."

"Just because my friend is easy doesn't mean that I have to be," she told me firmly and from then on my attitude changed. I began to think long term, reasoning that a girl who was so determined in defence of her virtue would make an admirable wife. I still kept trying my luck but my disappointment at her continued refusals was tempered by some pride that she should remain so steadfast about her principles. 

It was Brad who suggested that we go away on holiday as a foursome and I was pleasantly surprised when Lucy agreed to go. Despite the Youth hostel accommodation I was convinced that before we returned, I would have found opportunity to consummate the relationship with my girlfriend. Sleeping facilities were segregated on a sex basis with the two girls sharing and Brad and I bunking together. Before an hour had passed after our arrival at the site, Brad had worked out how one from each pair could swap rooms during the night. For tactical reasons this came down me changing places with Stephanie. During the week's holiday, Lucy did relax to the extent that I was allowed to kiss her naked body all over and she did play with my prick but all my attempts to get it inside her were firmly rebuffed.

When it was time to return home, we took our bags to the station to find we had missed the train and that there were four hours to kill before the next one. On the station wall there was a poster advertising a nearby mountain trail that led to a ski-lift for taking people to the summit, so with nothing better to do we left our bags and started hiking. After a steady hour of marching upward, we found the chair lift and enjoyed a spectacular and relaxing ride to the summit. At the top we found quite a crowd who had gone before us but there was a bit of a panic in progress. In the distance a nasty storm complete with lightening and torrential rain could be seen and it seemed to be heading at speed for the mountaintop. With absolutely no shelter at all in that exposed place, all the sightseers urgently wanted to get back down the mountain and had formed a long queue. Second from the head of the queue were a young couple we had come across before during our travels and we knew that they were on honeymoon. From the row that they were having you might have thought they had just got divorced. 

With some difficulty the husband got his wife onto one half of the lift and had just scrambled into the other when the distraught bride hurled herself to the ground. Joining her, the husband caught the moving lift and shouted anybody want it. Brad was the only person really near. The lift was moving slowly parallel with the ground at that point so Brad quickly jumped on and looked round for one of the three us to join him. As it happened, Lucy was the closest so she sprinted to be hauled into place just a second before it would have been too late. Resigned to getting soaked, Stephanie and I joined the end of the queue but after a few minutes it became obvious that the storm had veered down a valley on the opposite side of the mountain and would completely miss us. With most of the other holiday makers having departed, we were able to spend almost an hour wandering from one telescopic viewer to the next until we had seen all the sights of interest several times. We knew that the other two would wait for us in the refreshment area of the station.

When we got down that is where we found them but I was slightly puzzled why Brad and Lucy could only been served with their cups of tea shortly before we arrived. The four of us got a carriage to ourselves and for most of the journey Brad regaled us from his fund of dirty stories, some of which I hadn't heard before. I was surprised to see Lucy laughing as raucously as her friend because previously, when I had attempted to pass on one of my pal's less filthy anecdotes, Lucy had very prudishly told me not to be crude. 

I had no idea anything was wrong until about to kiss Lucy goodnight at the end of her garden path. Turning her face away she said, "I'm sorry Jeff but I don't want to go out with you any more." Then pushing my arms away she took a pace backward and explained, "You see I had sex with Brad while you and Stephanie were up the mountain and it wouldn't be fair to go on seeing you."

"How? When?" I gasped totally not comprehending.

"We got off the ski lift at the bottom and were walking down the trail when Brad said, 'Do you reckon we can get in a quick shag while they are stuck up there?' I said that I thought so and we went into the bushes and did it." At this point she could not suppress a small smile as she added, "Actually we did it more than once."

"I don't understand why you went with him like that when I have been asking you to do it with me for weeks."

"That's just it," she said. "You asked - you asked all the time and it got bloody irritating. If you ask, a girl has got to say 'no' or else she looks cheap but if you had just gone and done it at any time I wouldn't have stopped you, particularly this last week. You don't understand women at all do you Jeff. Brad expected me to let him fuck me so I did but right from the start, you never really thought that I would open my legs for you, so I didn't."

"I forgive you, I understand and I can forget all about it," I pleaded.

"If Brad wants to shag me again I will let him."

"That doesn't matter. He's my pal so I don't really mind you doing it with him occasionally - the important thing is you and me. Now that I know what I have been doing wrong it's going to be fine between us."

Lucy shook her head. "You haven't understood. This doesn't make one bit of difference - I still can't do it with you. I don't know why but I just can't." I think that I just turned and walked away but I do know that I never saw her again after that night. 

The following afternoon I burst into Brad's house without ringing the bell and was pleased to find him alone. "You shit faced fucking bastard," I screamed as he turned smiling to greet me. "I always thought you were my best friend and yet you go and shaft Lucy the moment that my back is turned."

"Come on - it's no big deal," he said, holding out his hands in a placatory manner. "I honestly didn't think you would mind if I had a little nibble. Hell - you must have got your share during the week."

"That's not the point. You knew that she was my girl - how would you have felt If I had tried moving in on Stephanie?"

"I wouldn't have minded one little bit because there is more than enough of Stephanie to go round. Hell I almost suggested it myself. You remember when Lucy had flue for two weeks and you came wandering round here just as Steph and I were warming up for a session. Well you looked so fucking miserable that I was on the point of asking her to give you a tumble instead of me but you pissed off again before I could speak. It's just cunt Jeff and one is as good as another as far as I am concerned. I'm really sorry that it has upset you - you weren't going soft on her were you?"




The Old Pals Act



"I was falling in love with her," I confessed. "I was getting round to thinking about going steady."

"Well you have had a narrow escape pal. She's a right hot little tart that one - the kind who will go the distance with anybody whether she gets married or not. When you were humping her you must have been noticed that she's been round the block more than once."

"I never have done it with her despite what I said," I admitted. "I thought she was a virgin and if we were eventually going to get married, I didn't want to spoil it by having sex too soon."

Brad looked at me incredulously and then he began to laugh. The laughter was the all-consuming kind - his face was red, tears were streaming down his face and he was holding his stomach as he swayed from side to side. I sat stoically waiting until he calmed down, wanting to know what was so damn funny. Eventually he regained control, took a few deep breaths and then looked up but the moment that he saw my face he was again convulsed. I stood up and left the house, hating him with every fibre of my being. It was not what he had done with Lucy that provoked my hatred as much as that humiliating laughter. I would not answer his telephone calls that night and early the next day caught the train into London.

In London I attempted to put my new knowledge of women to the test. For my pains I received a bruised cheek together with a badly scratched neck and only narrowly escaped being reported to the police for attempted rape. That incident more or less brought my adolescence to a close.

Now Brad was in the process of bringing my marriage to a close. I watched Sylvia's arms go round him and her body start to move in counterpoint to his. After intimate acquaintance with the length of his penis, I could not grasp how the whole thing could disappear so quickly or how she could take it so easily. As my wife's responsive body moulded to his and Brad's confident thrusts increased in tempo, I found that I could no longer watch and turned my head away with eyes tightly closed. There was no escape from awareness of the sexual activity taking place beside me and that was not only from the motion of the bed because Sylvia gave vent to a succession of gasps and moans - and possibly whispered endearments. Most distressing of all was the fact that the knee of her bent splayed leg pushed hard against me every time that he rammed into her. I had just given her the best orgasm of our marriage but when Brad made her cum it was a completely different order of magnitude. The cry that issued from her throat could so easily have been mistaken for one of pain that I whipped round my head to look. Her mouth gaped open, her eyes were staring and her head thrashed wildly from side to side to side. I never dreamed that it was possible for a woman to experience that level of ecstasy.

I do not know how long her sexual climax lasted. It seems impossible that I could have simply fallen asleep at that moment so the most rational explanation is that my mind simply switched off, unable to cope with the input of such unacceptable data. I woke briefly on two occasions during the night and both times there was sex in progress beside me. Perhaps those two awakenings were close together but I am sure that there was at least one sex session after the first seduction, because the light had been put out. 

In the morning to find that it had not been just a bad dream but there was relief in finding that beyond my wife's recumbent body, the bed was empty. Looking at her face she was very obviously satiated - and rather dissolute. Raising on one elbow I checked out the bedroom and when I looked back it was to find Sylvia studying me. There was nothing guilty or defensive in her gaze.

"Why?" All my hurt and puzzlement was expressed in that one word.

"Why did you bring Brad into our bedroom?" she spat back.

"I didn'..." I started to say but abandoned the denial when I realised how pointless it was.

"I knew he was there almost from the start," she said calmly. "As I was edging round to do sixty-nine on you I saw his face peering out of the wardrobe. At first I was very angry at his nerve but then the situation started to excite me. Once when I was making out with this guy on a deserted beach, I spotted a chap watching us through binoculars from the top of the cliff. I got very turned on then too and even gave the bloke a big smile and a wave behind my lover's back. Last night it was worse because Brad was so much closer and I fancied him anyway. Later on I saw you signal to him and I got angry again but this time with you, knowing that you had colluded with him. Then when Brad stood by the bed obviously dying to have sex with me I felt that it served you bloody well right if I did."

I winced at knowing that it was my own stupid action that had directly led to the betrayal. Sylvia reached out and stroked my face. "Don't blame yourself too much darling," she said. "I think that I would still have let him fuck me, even if you were not involved. One look at his cock and I wanted it - I don't think I have ever wanted anything so much in my life."

"So where do we go from here?" I asked my voice very flat.

Sylvia looked a bit surprised. "We go nowhere my love - we carry on as normal. Nothing has changed - I love you as much as I ever did. Sweetheart, last night was just sex and has nothing at all to do with my love for you - don't forget that." She let me ponder the meaning of her words for a moment and when I did not respond she asked brightly, "How did you let him into the wardrobe?"

"I took the packing panels from both sides so he could just walk through."

She smiled. "The old pals act?"

"Kind of - he made it sound like a small harmless favour."

Sylvia nodded. "Brad is a taker Jeff, you've got to watch him. I am not going to deny that he made me feel good last night but I could never love a man like that. A few minutes physical sensation is one thing but living life with a man you respect is something completely different."

Encouraged by her words to start believing that this was not necessarily the end of the world, I asked, "When did you actually start fancying Brad?"

"From the first moment that you brought him through the door," she told me honestly. "The trouble was that he caught my eye and knew that I had reacted to him. You see I am used to men fancying me and know exactly how to handle them. This was the reverse situation and I felt vulnerable, which was why I was so forward with him - to try and get back in control. I was very glad though that he disappeared with you every morning."

I had to get up or risk being late for work but as I swung my legs out of bed, Sylvia said, "I've got a question for you. When you were young, did you and Brad swap girls then?"

"I know of one occasion for certain when he screwed my girl but I never screwed any of his."

"Typical!" she laughed as I headed for the bathroom.

I was uncertain how I was going to react with Brad - anger, disdain or hurt. Therefore I was with a degree of relief that I found his note saying that he had dashed of early and would wait as usual near to where I worked. Unfortunately, I still had not resolved the dilemma when I picked up my briefcase and left work to meet him at the small bar. I tipped towards anger when he acted completely normally without any sign of contrition, "You bastard - I want you out of my house tonight."

"That's going a bit far don't you think," he said with false innocence. "If you were so unhappy about it why didn't you say something at the time?"

"What did you expect me to do? I couldn't throw you out physically and my wife seemed quite happy about the situation. If I had protested and you had just carried on, I would have looked an even bigger fool than I do right now."

He nodded. "You're right - I don't think that even a bucket of cold water would have had any affect."

Brad finished his drink and then followed me to the car. I drove him to my home with both of us maintaining a strict silence. I made no attempt to prepare food, deciding to eat when he had gone. I did help myself to a large drink and when he looked at me enquiringly, I told him to help himself. He sat himself opposite me, swirled the amber liquid in his glass a few times and then said, "I can understand that you think that I behaved badly but I believe that I acted with quite a degree of constraint."

"Fucking hell," I swore "- You've the nerve to call last night 'acting with constraint'?"

"Please hear me out," he pleaded. "Let me tell how it appeared to me. I'm not making excuses but, if only for our past, let me try to show that I am not the total bastard you think I am." I knew that I would take a lot of convincing but nodded for him to continue. "The moment that I stepped into the house and looked into your wife's eyes, there was a spark and I knew it was there if I wanted it - although I'm not sure if she realised. The trouble was that I knew I did want it and that was a revelation after barely glancing at a female during the past."

"How do you mean 'a spark'?"

"Call it immediate physical attraction. I've had it before and the women who react to me so quickly always turn out to be the best in bed. Others gradually succumb to my charm and some resist until they realise the size of my dick but I can honestly say that I have never drawn a blank if I really wanted the woman."

"I thought you said you had only been with twelve women since I last saw you?"

Brad grinned mischievously. "I possibly exaggerated a bit there to make the point. There were a lot more women than I mentioned but I have been with one hell of a lot more men. You must remember that it's possible to go with a dozen guys at a gay weekend party - a passive type like yourself could easily handle well over fifty."

"So because you though that Sylvia has the hots for you, you decided to add her to your tally and to hell with friendship," I accused bitterly.

"That is what I am trying to say - because you are my friend I tried to back off. I did not respond when she was all over me with her sexy remarks - and why the fuck do you think I leave the house when you do in the morning. I do nothing but hang about waiting for you to finish work and that is to avoid being alone with your wife because I knew with absolute certainty what would happen and I did not want to do it behind your back."

"So right under my nose was all right I suppose?"

"I couldn't honestly see a lot wrong with it Jeff," he said. "I think that because we had re-established our old relationship I started thinking in terms of the past. We are the last of the musketeers so I believed that 'one for all - all for one' still applied - you know 'what's mine is yours' and that sort of stuff. I got it wrong and I'm sorry."

"OK - I forgive you but I still want you to go. I would never have any peace of mind if you stayed for the rest of your fortnight."

"I'll go but not until I have said goodbye to Sylvia. I don't want to sneak away like a thief in the night."

We sat in silence for quite a while and I spent most of the time surreptitiously studying him. Apart from the need to get him away from my wife, I was terribly disappointed that he was leaving early because I had been looking forward to several more days of giving him oral sex. He must have read my mind because he said quietly, "We can still act like friends. Remember that it will be the last time ever because I certainly am not going to risk disrupting your marriage again in the future." I needed no more persuading.

When Sylvia arrived, I jumped up to get my explanation first, "I've asked Brad to leave and he has packed his things but wanted to say goodbye to you before he goes."

"He is not leaving - at least not tonight. I don't care what he does tomorrow but you can't kick someone out on the street at this hour," she said firmly and then paused to see the effect of her ruling. "I suppose that this is all to do with last night and I have got something to say about that. This all started as a kind of schoolboy prank with both of you trying to relive your adolescence and unfortunately it got out of hand. We are all three of us to blame. Brad started it by thinking up the idea of spying on me and you Jeff were stupid enough to go along with it. My fault was not putting a stop to the nonsense when I first saw a lascivious face leering at me out of the wardrobe but I made the mistake of remembering something out of my past and from there everything escalated. As I see it there is no real harm done. Brad will leave, we will get on with our lives and the only result is that all three of us will have an extra memory, whether that is good or bad." 

There was a sound of slow hand clapping. I turned to find Brad making the gesture and grinning all over his face. "You really are magnificent when you are laying down the law," he told her.

My wife turned her gaze coldly upon him. "There is no point you using your charm on me anymore Brad. I can't deny that I enjoyed having sex with you or that my personal memory of last night is a very good one. But it should not have happened, it was crazy - and one night of craziness will last me a lifetime, thank you. I am going straight to bed now and you will have gone Brad when I get up in the morning - so I will say goodbye now." Sylvia finished her speech with what started as a long dispassionate stare at Brad but suddenly she broke off and hurried from the room.

That's my marching orders signed sealed and delivered but with more grace than you would have given me," Brad said as soon as she had gone. "If you take my advice old chum, I would make the hot drink that she has obviously missed and get up there after her. As for me, I've got a long day looking for new digs tomorrow, so I will get my head down early as well. If you are not up tomorrow, I will let myself out. He waited until I made Sylvia a coffee and as we shook hands he said, "Thanks for everything Jeff - you never know, we might bump into each other again, sometime in the dim and distant future. I do hope that I have not disrupted your life too badly."

Pushing open the bedroom door I found that Sylvia was sprawled naked on top of the covers. "Put that mug down and make love to me," she ordered. I hurriedly complied, abandoning my usual tidiness by dropping my clothes on the floor. When naked I reached to switch out the light before getting into bed. "Leave it, I want to look at you - I want to make sure that it's you I am with," she ordered.

She had said 'make love' but there was no foreplay, no tenderness. Sylvia wanted me to enter her straight away and her vagina virtually sucked me in. Her arms locked around me in a vice and her groin was straining against me from the start. "Make me cum Jeff," she whispered, "Do it quickly."

There is such a thing as trying too hard. I had her at the brink put could not quite push her over and after that it was a losing battle. She went off the boil but would not stop trying. On rare occasions this had happened in the past and then the answer had been to stop, re-establish a mood and try again. I don't think that Sylvia could stop - she just got more and more frantic for release. After well over an hour of laborious humping without pleasure, I just gave up and rolled off. We lay side by side in silence, both breathing heavily. "Fetch Brad." The first time that she said that the words were spoken so quietly that I barely heard but then she repeated, loud and clear.

Shocked I rolled over to find that she was looking at me with pain in her eyes. "I need him Jeff," she said. "I have got to know if last night was all my imagination."

"I can confirm that it was real," I told her bitterly.

"Not that. I need to know if the way he made me feel was just the novelty of the situation or something more. Go and get him please."

I shook my head. "No, I won't do it - it's not fair to ask me."

"If you don't bring him here, I will go and get in his bed."

I was on the horns of a dilemma - I did not want to effectively ponce for my wife but I feared the force of my imagination if she was alone with him. The distance between our bed and Brad's door seemed like the longest walk of my life. My friend was lying on the bed naked with the light on but he was not reading. I had the impression that he had been expecting me. "Sylvia would like to see you," I managed to say and then turned to retrace my steps quickly lest he see the tears in my eyes.

Brad caught up with me at the door and rested his hand on my shoulder. "It's not the end of the world," he said comfortingly. "Everything will turn out fine - I promise."

My wife held up her arms to him exactly as she had the night before - and again he seemed to get his penis deep inside her with incredible speed. Then, after little more than half a dozen thrusts, that long sought orgasm burst upon her to be quickly followed by another. Some minutes later there was another.

None of the three had the grandstand intensity of the first night but from the way that she gasped, I could tell how badly she needed them. She had one arm hooked round his neck but at some point she stretched out a hand to grip mine tightly. Insignificant or not this made me feel less excluded from the action and lessened my pain. I had not ejaculated during that failed fuck and now my prick was painfully stiff. Brad found time to glance over his shoulder at me, he saw my erection and winked. Only a couple of minutes later, without warning he emptied the contents of his balls into her vagina and rolled off saying, "She's all yours Chief, I've got her nicely warmed up for you." 

I scrambled to replace him as Sylvia shuffled round with legs wide and pulled me down on top of her.

The entry of my cock into her cunt prompted an immediate orgasm and others followed like peas shelling out of a pod. During one brief interlude, she forced her mouth close to my ear and whispered, "I love being fucked by two men. You don't mind do you Jeff because I think that it is what I was made for?" Sylvia followed this by putting her tongue passionately into my mouth - I set great store by this because I had never seen her kiss Brad.

I wished that I could have gone on longer but I think that cumulative fatigue must have sapped my self control. My wife held me tight and milked every last drop of cum out of me with her hyperactive internal muscles but the moment that I withdrew she swivelled eagerly to accept the great cock that Brad had already waiting for entry. I lay and watched his renewed onslaught upon her twat with a degree of equanimity. I had been afraid that I was to be a mere supporting act or possibly be replaced altogether but instead I had joined in as an equal. For the first time I started to derive mental pleasure from the situation. He gave her a good shag but I had the impression that he was soft pedalling, then when he shot his load my suspicion was confirmed because I knew that he could have gone on a damn sight longer. Sylvia too had expected more and now she looked eagerly to me but I shook my head sadly. Disappointed she turned back to Brad's dick, I think hoping to revive it but he was already sliding out of bed. "Got to be awake early if I hope to find myself some new digs," he explained.

"Don't be silly Brad, You know very well that you will continue staying here as originally arranged - now come back to bed," she scolded.

Brad continued to shake his head. "Enough for now - I think it is time to give you two a bit of time alone together."

When we were alone she snuggled up very close with her arms around me. "I love you so very much - I don't think there are many men who are as understanding as you." We lay in silence for a while holding each other tight. "You know what I think?" she asked suddenly. "I think you don't really mind about Brad having sex me but if it had been any other man, I think you would go crazy."




The Old Pals Act



Long after she fell asleep I lay pondering her conclusion. I suspected that she was correct about my attitude to Brad but with regard to other men I was not so sure - you see I had realised that, as long as I was not under threat, I quite enjoyed watching somebody else fucking her.

The following morning being a Saturday we all slept late. After a staggered breakfast, Brad accompanied us to the Supermarket to do the weeks shopping and after lunch joined in, messing about in the garden. Sylvia was joyously happy. Many times she leant unnecessarily against my friend in an intimate manner but at others she looked at me with the light of love shining out of her eyes. Strangely, apart from that, not a single reference was made to the sex that had gone on the two previous nights. My only regret on the day was that I had not managed to grab time alone with Brad because my body still craved what I got from him.

After a pleasant evening spent in conversation and moderate drinking, and after the hot drinks prior to bed, Sylvia broached the subject that must have been in everybody's mind, "The situation has changed and it's pretty obvious that you two are going to share me until Brad's holiday is over."

I nodded - I had come to that conclusion but I was not happy at having it stated so bluntly. "It's the natural state of affairs," Brad contributed. "One woman can easily look after two horny men but put one man with pair of really randy woman and he could be dead within a week." 

"Even you Brad?" I butted in sarcastically.

"Even me," he admitted. "I may be blessed on size but my virility is basically little better than average. My edge is that I keep in practice - the trouble with married couples is that after the first year or so they get lazy and only shag when they are in the mood instead of deliberately creating the mood."

"Shut up," Sylvia ordered. "What I want to say is that, instead of tripping about from bed to bed, we should all at least start off the night in the same one."

That galvanised everyone and we filed upstairs together. She had first use of the bathroom, followed by me with Brad bringing up the rear. In the bedroom, Sylvia undressed quickly and posed naked on the bed as the object of our desires but I took time hanging up my discarded items, giving the marriage intruder time to catch up. With the two men sitting on either side of her there was a momentary hesitation about protocol until Brad held out his hand and said, "After you squire - it's your turn to be the warm up man tonight.

I looked to Sylvia for her agreement. She gave an encouraging smile but instead of lying back, suggested, "Why don't you start - you know - like you sometimes like to." She meant oral sex. Usually I would begin by ministering to her and then she worked round to wrap her lips round my dick. The moment that she parted her legs I was struck by the unusually strong odour from her cunt and the nearer I got, the more overpowering it became. I realised that she was in heat - she was like a bitch sending out her pheromones to attract all the surrounding males. It certainly had a powerful aphrodisiac effect on me. I was so overcome by the raw sex emanating from her that at first I did not notice that she had straddled my head in a different way. I was forced backwards until she was sitting on my face. Her labia lips gaped open as if she had already been fucked and both they and the internal passage of her twat were burning hot to my tongue. The taste of her vaginal secretions was so strong that the amount of saliva generated overflowed my mouth. It felt as if my whole face was being sucked inside her and I wished that my whole head would slip in. After a minute or two I regained control to blink the water from my eyes and look up between her parted thighs. It came as no surprise to see that Brad's great cock was deeply embedded down her throat. I lay powerless for several minutes, licking her hot internal wetness and watching her enthusiastically sucking his cock.

I was beginning to get desperately short of air and wondering if there could possibly be a better way to die when his cream started pumping into her eager mouth. This in turn triggered her and the nectar of her cum flowed so copiously that she could have been pissing in my mouth. Sylvia threw herself onto her back and urgently began pulling me on top of her. There was semen coated all round her lips and she had kept more inside her mouth that she proceeded to pass to me. When she could speak she urged, "Fuck me Jeff, Fuck me. Show him what you can do."

I tried to comply, ramming myself into her with a frenzy of movement until Brad put a hand on my shoulder and whispered firmly, "Pace yourself or else you are going to blow too soon." I took his advice and slowed down to be rewarded over the next fifteen minutes with a delirium of sensation. I was no longer trying to make it good for her - this was for me and she aided by doing unbelievable things to me with her cunt. Eventually I exploded into the most wonderful climax of my life - I kept pumping for so long that it must have been continuing muscle spasm rather than a continuing supply of cum.

Reluctantly after the last tremor had subsided I rolled off. Sylvia gave me a very loving kiss and asked "Was that nice?"

"It was heaven - the best ever," I told her from my floating pink cloud of ultimate satisfaction.

"I'm so glad because I want ask you a very big favour," she said. "I'd like you to go and sleep in Brad's bed - you see, I want to do something with him that I've never done with you and I'm afraid you might start to get a bit jealous if you stay to watch." 

A bucket of water could not have sobered me more quickly. I think that I was about to refuse until Brad patted me on the shoulder and said commandingly, "I'll see you later."

With no real alternative I slunk from the bedroom feeling that my worst fear had happened and that I was being cast out from the marriage. In Brad's room, I went nowhere near the bed, instead opening the wardrobe and stepping through. Through the slats on the closed portion, I could partially make out Brad still reclining on the bed with my wife kneeling beside. "So what is this big treat that you are going to give me - or I am going to give you?" I clearly heard him ask.

"I would like you to fuck me the same way that you fuck all the men that you go with."

I knew that was what she was going to ask for and my guts twisted into a knot of jealousy. "Well then we are both in for a treat lovely lady because that is the kind of fucking that Tiggers do best," Brad was telling her with a laugh.

I wrapped a dark sweater round my head and leaned sideways until I could see the bed with one eye. Fortuitously, Brad was arranging her on hands and knee obliquely across the bed giving me a perfect view. There was some muttered conversation that I could not catch but as a result he reached to get a small jar from the bedside cupboard and began applying the contents to her anus. All the time he was talking to her, I could not make out the words but the tone was reassuring. With preparations complete, he positioned himself behind her with the head of his prick just touching her anointed rosebud. He looked so huge and her so very small. Then he thrust into her, not too far but enough to make her squeal with pain, "No stop. I made a mistake - it hurts too much. Stop Brad please you are splitting me in half."

He didn't stop. Instead he paused a little and thrust again. Sylvia squealed even more loudly and tried to get away but he held her fast. Another thrust and her squeals changed to groans, gradually subsiding until she became completely quiescent. Then the groans started gain but now they had a completely different tone - and it was not long after that she was pushing back at him begging "Harder, harder - hurt me again."

I ran through the full gamut of negative emotions - envy, jealousy, anger and despair. To be fair selfishness must also be in there because, although I happily betrayed my wife with Brad, I resented them both betraying me with each other. These thoughts had partly dissociated me from the events on the bed and now I realised that Brad appeared completely still, although the tremors that passed through Sylvia's body indicated that he was continuing to excite her by twitching and expanding his cock. I saw my wife's hand creep back and gingerly feel where the root of his prick disappeared inside her anus. "It's all in, every bit," she said in wonder. "I love your cock Brad and I wish it could stay inside me like this forever. I'm yours - you knew that from the first moment that our eyes met. Brad, you can do anything that you want with me."

Her words killed me - I stood there and died inside because she had just confessed to him what I had suspected to be true from the start. Brad had taken her away from me. Despite Sylvia's protestations of continuing love for me, she had now verbally given herself to him, body and soul. Emotionally dead I continued to spectate upon what proved to be a definitive demonstration of anal intercourse. Hard then soft, fast then slow, at times almost withdrawing only to plunge back with the power of a pile-driver and at others servicing her like piston almost faster than the eye could follow. Sylvia was delirious - almost out of her mind with pleasure. An unending stream of sound seemed to issue from her throat, screams, groans, gasps and words - words of encouragement, words of pure filth and words that possibly only had meaning to her. 

I had thought that she was enjoying one long continuous orgasm but then she was gripped by a sensation emanating from a different plateau of existence. The waves of saw sexual energy emanating from the bed reached me and seemed to scorch my face. This was no mere act of copulation, I could believe that they had been fused together - had become one. For perhaps one second or two, the intensity was frightening - and then it was all over. Even in the passive role of voyeur I felt completely drained.

They flopped to lie side. "Brad, that was..." my wife started to say and then suddenly stopped. Brad, stayed where he lay for a few seconds and then got on one elbow to look at her. He spoke to her twice without getting a reaction and then galvanised into action, putting his ear on her chest listening to her heart, checking the pulse in her wrists and even slapping her face ineffectively a few times. Quietly leaving the wardrobe I got into the guest bed - I knew what the problem was but there was an element of pleasure in letting the bastard sweat. This phenomenon had happened three times during the marriage and always following particularly good sex. The first time had been on honeymoon, with no telephone and situated miles from help - the worst panic of my life. Sylvia had simply passed out in mid sentence and remained insensible for two hours, only to wake up as if nothing had happened.

Fifteen minutes later I was curled up into a foetal ball engaged on the last pleasure remaining to me - namely considering the best way to kill myself. I was not aware that Brad was in the room until he crept into the bed behind me. I did not acknowledge his presence but neither did I pretend to be asleep. He slipped one hand round my waist and the other between my head and pillow then started gently tweaking my nipples. This sent an immediate tingle of pleasure down to my genital area. I ignored him.

My body was still susceptible to sensation but the numbness of my mind made me impervious to his blandishments. Then I felt his prick digging hard into my back and this provoked me to speak. "If you want me to suck your cock after it's been up my wife's arse then you have another think coming."

"So you watched, silly boy - I thought you would. Sylvia knew what she was doing when she sent you away."

"She sent me away so I wouldn't hear her promising herself to you," I said bitterly and despite myself, I started to cry. "You fucking bastard - with all the women that you can have, why do you need to take my wife away from me?"

"Jef, Jef - don't be an idiot. I have no intention of taking her away from you. I know what she said but surely you know that woman say things they don't mean in the height of passion - men too if it comes to that."

"It sounded as if she meant it to me," I said - but I had started to entertain a hopeful bit of doubt. "Stop digging that stiff prick into my back. I am not going to suck it for you so you might as well go back to Sylvia and give her something else that she has never let me do. I don't know why you have come anyway if it isn't to gloat."

"Your wife is suffering from sexual overload at the moment - I've come across it before and she should be fine in an hour or two. I came because I thought you might need consoling. That was handled badly - it was something that Sylvia needed but it has spoiled the good atmosphere we had just got going. Let me help you see things in the right perspective so that we can all get back to where we were."

As he was speaking, Brad sneaked his hand between my legs from behind and I could tell that he had something slippery on his finger. I knew what he intended and in my current mood I did not want it - but I was also determined not to give him the satisfaction of provoking me to resist. I believed that if I could stoically resist both pleasure and pain, and act as if the efforts of his mighty muscle were of no consequence then that must surely demoralise him. Brad was so used to both male and female worshipping at his groin that showing disdain might be the only way that I could hurt him.

During my life I have always consciously avoided risk of physical harm so it is possible that I have a low pain threshold. That said, when he thrust his prick part way into me it was the worst pain that I have ever experienced in my life. I am proud to say that the only sign of discomfort that escaped me was one short cut off grunt. That pain did ease and sensing this he thrust again. I had relaxed and this time he almost caught me out because I was unprepared for a renewed onslaught of increased pain but with clenched teeth I managed to suppress any external indication of my internal agony.

For the few minutes after the pain had gone, although knowing he was inside me I got no striking sensation, pleasurable or otherwise. So it looked as if I could easily divorce my mind from what was happening behind me and use indifference to inflict a sexual humiliation upon the one time friend who had cuckolded me. That was before the pleasure came, a pleasure so sublime that my mental resistance disappeared like a dream partly remembered on waking. I can remember little of being buggered but must have experienced exactly the sensations I had witnessed my wife enjoying that short time before.

Like with her there was an interlude when I felt back to check, unable to believe that long column of meat had all gone inside me. I also remember imploring Brad, "Do what ever you like to Sylvia - I don't care as long as you promise to keep on doing this to me."

I have a recollection of Brad's hot semen flooding into my bowels but no knowledge of when my own cum spilled out uninvited to corrupt the sheet beneath me. We separated and lay side by side with me still very much in a daze. A lighter flared and shortly afterwards he put a roughly rolled cylinder of burning weed between my lips. I can report that post coital euphoria combined with the effect of a joint can most definitely be recommended. "I wish you had screwed me like this years ago," I said.

"That is the only real regret of my life," he said sincerely. When you were happy just sucking me off, this was what I knew I wanted to do even then. Trouble was I had never done it so I did not know how to do it properly, I was worried that I might really damage you but most of all I was afraid of losing your friendship if you did not like the idea. Do you realise that you are the only person in my life who I was unsure about."

"Will I see you again after your holiday is over?" I asked, holding my breath until he spoke because the answer was so important to me.

"Course you will. I can come back for a few days in six months and every six months after that if you want me. I am coming back for you and I'm coming back for Sylvia. She's an exceptional woman. Your lovely wife has really got under my skin and very few females do that - you're a very lucky man to have her. Yes - we are going to do a lot more sharing in the future, the three of us now that you are happy with the situation again."

I lay totally happy, smoking and drifting and fantasising about the three way sharing pleasures to come. 

"I keep thinking about your delightful Sylvia," Brad said slowly in a thoughtful voice. "We ought to have a child by her, you and I. Just imagine you and me lying either side of her both with a breast in our mouth sucking her milk. Or better still, we lie on the floor and she leans over us letting it drip down on us - and whenever we want, we can reach up and milk her into our mouths. Now that really would be sharing."

I said nothing. Even though the picture he painted had a certain erotic appeal, I was not too happy about this turn to the conversation. "You know," he went on following the same line of thought, "I've never tried it but I bet I could be really good at making babies."

"Now wait a minute," I said, suddenly alarmed. "A bit of sharing is one thing but aren't you forgetting that she is my wife?"

"As her husband you get first turn, that's only fair. So that gives you six months to ring the bell and if you turn out to be firing duds then I get a turn. You can't say fairer than that."

"I'm still not all happy about the idea and I don't know what the hell Sylvia will say," I flustered unable to keep the agitation out of my voice.

Brad dug me in the ribs and laughed, "Come on, don't you know yet when I'm teasing. Off you go to join your fair spouse. I am pleased to have the privilege of screwing her but it's important that you are the one lying next to her when she wakes up in the morning."

I quickly did as he suggested. Before Brad had got on to this subject I would have been content to remain near to his warmth until morning but I was suddenly glad to escape. Despite his protestations, I was not totally convinced that he had been teasing."

I opened my eyes to find Sylvia lying watching me. Seeing that I was awake, she leaned over and gave me a very loving kiss. "Do you know what he did to me last night - what I asked him to do?" When I nodded she asked, "Has he ever done that to you?"

"Yes."

"When you knew him before?"

"No - last night, after he left you."

"Was it wonderful?"

"I have never known anything like it," I said simply.

"What is happening to us? Brad has made me feel like a drug addict, I love you but I need him - I seem to have developed a craving for his body."

"That's it - he's a drug. When we were teenagers he never screwed me but I sucked him off loads of times - I couldn't get enough. Even after a ten year gap I found that I still wanted to suck his cock."

"So that's how he made you let him watch us in bed," she said, her face lighting up with sudden understanding."

I could only nod, ashamed at how easily my weakness had been so easily manipulated. "There's something else," I told her, "Brad is saying that he wants to impregnate you."

"Oh hell," she said. I guessed that her sudden shiver was caused by a vision of him putting a baby inside her.

"There is no need to worry as long as you stay on the pill - he can't make you stop taking it."

"No - he can't," Sylvia agreed but I wish that she had spoken with a bit more certainty. 

"Do you mind me having sex with Brad - do you think it makes me gay?" I had to ask 




The Old Pals Act



Sylvia smiled. "Before last night, I might have minded but now I can understand how men can get as badly hooked on him as I am." There was a long pause and then she asked, "Jeff, how do you feel after having it done to you. My bum is very sore and bruised - I'm worried that might have damaged me with his cock being so huge." I felt exactly the same but I did not intend to mention it.

I told her to let me have a look and, eager to have her mind set at ease, Sylvia threw off the covers and got on all fours, in almost the identical position that she had adopted for him. In an extremely gentle manner, I pushed apart her buttock cheeks and peered at her small abused anus. It was very red and possibly swollen but I could see no sign of a tear or any other real damage. All round her tender rosebud and down the backs of her legs I could see what I assumed was dried discoloured spunk. "Your fine," I told her and then, on the spur of the moment, I leaned forward to place a loving kiss on the entrance to the passage that Brad had carnally conquered but not I. The next second my tongue was licking frantically. I may have given him carte blanche with my wife but this was one first that I intended to deny my dissolute friend.

Sylvia loved it. She wriggled and giggled under me saying, "That's lovely Jeff, please don't stop."

As my tongue was beginning to tire, she rolled onto her back and urged my very stiff prick inside her. I think that she just wanted to be fucked but I did not want to do it in a way that was too reminiscent of how I had seen her with Brad those first two nights. Gradually I eased her into our favourite position for relaxed loving sex, lying on our sides facing each other. For almost an hour we kissed and fondled, for periods not moving at all, just content to be part of each other. Even after I had climaxed we did not move and fell asleep in each other's arms, still connected.

"Give it a rest you two lovebirds - wake up and see the lovely breakfast I've done for you." We jerked awake to find Brad standing at the bottom of the bed, fully dressed and holding a laden breakfast tray in each hand. I scrambled to grab the sheet, shyly pulling it to cover my shrunken genitals and then rested the proffered tray on my lap. In contrast, my wife made no effort to conceal herself - to the contrary, she sat knees bent and legs apart balancing the tray on one knee. Brad quickly left. When he had gone, shocked by her blatant behaviour I asked, "Were you deliberately trying to get him to fuck you again now?"

That earlier loving mood seemed to have disappeared because Sylvia looked at me challengingly and replied, "Maybe I was - or perhaps I just don't have any shame anymore." 

While we ate I kept glancing at her - to be honest I found it difficult to look away. Sitting there flaunting her nakedness with melon juice running down her chin, she represented the essence of woman. That strong sexual aroma was emanating from her again and despite the recent sex I felt myself stiffening again. It was not to be because Sylvia skipped quickly out of bed - maybe she noticed my quickening attention and took avoiding action. Downstairs we found a note explaining that he had gone for a walk and would be back around midday. Amazingly both my wife and I slipped quite naturally into our normal Sunday routine with me taking the ten-minute walk to bring back newspapers. Brad returned just in time for the light lunch and afterwards we all went out to the patio.

A pleasant hour or so went by in desultory conversation and reading the different newspapers as they circulated. "I don't think you have had a real look at the garden Brad," Sylvia said brightly and the next minute the pair of them wandered off with my wife pointing out different plants and bushes, (we are both keen gardeners). I had just started a long item so I continued reading, keeping a casual eye on them until they disappeared from sight, at which point I devoted my attention to the article. I finished that and only after I had read something else did I realised they had not reappeared despite nearly fifteen minutes having elapsed. Setting off in search of the missing pair it came as no real surprise to find them fucking under the apple tree.

My wife's refined sense of decorum seemed to have completely deserted her. The spot they had chosen had the benefit of full sun but it was also the position offering least concealment from a potential observer in either of the neighbouring gardens. As it happened, the families on both sides tended to use their gardens a lot during sunny weekends. Consequently I spent a fraught twenty minutes partly watching the action but mainly on alert ready to run interference should someone appear in either of the other gardens. When it was over, Sylvia stood up and brushed down her dress, gave me a bashful grin and bent to retrieve her discarded knickers. "Leave them off, it will save time later," Brad instructed and she happily complied. He then said he was gagging for a coffee so we all went back inside. There he continued on the theme, saying to her, "You should stop wearing knickers altogether - I like to think of your warm moist eager cunt all ready and available. Come to that you shouldn't wear them to work either - but don't go opening your legs for any of these office types, at least not until after I've gone."

We two males were sitting to drink our coffee but Sylvia was flitting about getting vegetables and other ingredients ready to start cooking. Every time that she passed him, Brad very familiarly put his hand under her dress and eventually scooped her onto his lap and starting to fiddle for his zip. Very adroitly, she extricated herself from his embrace and said firmly, "Brad, you know I am always willing but right now you've got a choice - you can either have me or the meal that I am trying to prepare."

Brad muttered that it would keep and to my relief desisted. I was worried but not about the proprietorial way he treated my wife but rather his potential waste of energy - I was preoccupied with how I was going to get alone with him to collect my share of his favours. Sylvia solved my problem by saying, "While I am cooking, I can't do with you two men under my feet mauling me every time I walk past. Why don't you go and put that wardrobe back how it should be. After that just stay out of my way until everything is cooked."

In his bedroom Brad grinned, "Do you want to fix the wardrobe first or what?"

"The wardrobe can wait," I said shortly quickly scanning the room. Spotting his jar of lubrication I ran over and grabbed it. 

"You won't be needing that old pal," he said. "Your hole will be still be too bruised and I don't want to ruin it. I'm afraid that it is back to the gargling or nothing."

I was bitterly disappointed because my body ached for a repeat of the previous invasion but I settled for what I could get. There was a bonus in that his cock tasted very strongly of cunt so I meticulously licked off every trace before beginning on the sucking proper. Brad allowed me to make the most of my consolation prize by bringing him to the brink several times before the mood mellowing cum finally flooded into my mouth. Downstairs, Sylvia looked into my eyes knowingly and asked, "So you boys found something to amuse you then?" and only at that moment did I remember that we had done nothing about the wardrobe.

After dinner we sat around in an almost formal manner for over an hour allowing the food to digest but then dropped the pretence and got down to serious screwing which lasted, taking turns, for the rest of the evening and well into the night. Next morning I was still shattered when I woke alone with my wife but I had to force myself out of bed to go to work. Downstairs I found myself breakfasting in solitary state and took pride in the fact that Brad had apparently been not been able to come up to scratch. Nor was he waiting when I left work to return home but found that he had prepared a tasty snack for me when I arrived. "So what have you been doing with yourself all day?" I asked mainly to make conversation.

"Well for most of the morning, I was screwing the arse off your lovely wife," he told me unabashed.

"She really can't get enough of me. Bloody insatiable - I have honestly never known a tart quite like her."

There was no answer to that. I found that it was not the sex that I resented as much as the intimacy they had shared during my absence. Brad noticed the expression on my face and misinterpreted it. "Don't worry," he reassured me. "I've saved plenty of energy for you."

This time he allowed me to grab his jar and apply the contents to myself but when I threw myself expectantly face down on the bed he said, "This isn't a one way street you know. There happens to be a little service that I want you to do for me to make it worth my while." Puzzled, I sat up and faced him as he explained what he wanted. Two day's before when I had done this to my wife, it was done partly as an act of love and partly to do it before Brad got the chance. At the time I never dreamed that Brad would want the same perverse service performed on him. After satisfying his demand, I finished up disappointed with the sex. Granted the pain was less but so was the pleasure - I still enjoyed it considerably but without the ecstasy of that first occasion. I suspect that Brad deliberately allowed me only short rations. I know that after he had cum I was still so hungry for more that I started licking and sucking his cock, trying to get him stiff again and taking no account of where the organ had just been.

Brad stopped me. "I do have to keep something in reserve. When the stupendous Sylvia gets home, I want to have it stiff for her every time that she looks at me."

The next day followed exactly the same pattern except that before leaving work I booked the next three days as holiday. During the morning, I had tormented myself with thoughts of them alone together and this was the only way that I could prevent it. When Sylvia got home it turned out that she had done the same. In a private moment she explained, "Brad wasn't joking about me not wearing any knickers at work. He checks and to make sure and to make it worse he insists that I wear a dress. It's so embarrassing. I feel as if everybody knows - and there are two guys I never even speak to who have started hanging round my desk." 

That was the start of more than five days of solid sex until Brad finally left us. By 'solid' I mean a kaleidoscope of copulation when individual days ceased to have any relevance and all I can remember is different incidents from within the period. Spread over days, Brad continued to make oblique references to pregnancy. He enthused over my wife's 'child bearing hips' and speculated that she was the kind of woman who would prove extremely fruitful. Another time he imagined aloud how he saw her as an island girl with a baby on her hip. More serious was the time that he asked her views on breast-feeding. Sylvia said that she believed in it, mentioning the traditional benefits. "But how long would you keep nourishing the child that way?" he wanted to know.

She obviously had not given it a lot of thought. "Until it is weaned onto solid food," she said vaguely.

"Native women keep on suckling until the kid is well over two years old. Don't you think that is the best way in nature?"

"Have you seen the pictures of native women? Imagine what my tits would be like after two fucking years," Sylvia told him shortly and he was happy to let the matter drop.

Nevertheless this bothered me and I passed on my concerns to her the next time we were alone. Brad maintained his practice of ending every night in his own bed so mornings were the only time that we were guaranteed a bit of privacy. "Despite what he said, I still think that Brad has plans to make you pregnant," I told her.

She laughed. "So what? If we didn't have a test we would never know for sure. You would still be the father and what better start in life can a father give his son than let him be born with a prick like Brad?"

Then, seeing the expression on my face she said quickly, "Jeff, I'm only kidding. You are worrying about nothing; it's never going to happen."

At one point Brad insisted that she perform the same act on him that he had demanded of me, before he would allow her access to his cock. "Your husband can do it for you if you like," he conceded.

Sylvia proudly insisted in earning her own fuck, and sitting watching I was ashamed at how low both of us had fallen. This showed graphically how far our Machiavellian guest was prepared to demean us as part of his perverted pleasure. It suddenly struck me that Brad never used his mouth at all. He did not even kiss Sylvia and although making use of both our tongues to pleasure him, his own was strictly reserved for telling us what he wanted. In fact, that mention of sucking milk from Sylvia's breast was his single oral reference relative to himself. My self-esteem was boosted to realise that his large penis was Brad's only real asset - but some would say, 'with that in his armoury he hardly needs another weapon'. 

One day the three of us were messing about taking a shower together. Suddenly Sylvia turned of the water and squatted down saying, "I want you to piss on me - both of you at the same time." Such was the mood that both of us immediately stood side by side in front of her playing golden jets onto her tits, watching the different rivulets of urine flow over her stomach to plunge as a small torrent into the gorge that contained her cunt. It had of course to be Brad who 'accidentally' jerked his prick causing part of his stream to divert into her open mouth. Throughout the shower Sylvia gazed up at us her eyes filled with lust.

When we had both become arid, I said that she should now do it to us. I suggested that Brad and I lay with our legs over opposite sides of the bath and heads side by side. "You can stand straddled and get both of us at the same time." Brad seemed to be going along with the plan but at the last minute proposed a different arrangement. We finished up with both males lying the same way with the back of my neck in Brad's groin and his dick sticking up by the side of my ear. When she let go, I happily opened my mouth to catch her personal rain but he had managed to escape with only wet genitals.

I may be giving the impression that I went along with this charade as a fairly reluctant passenger but that is not case. Granted in rare moments of lucidity I could see the extent of our degradation but for the bulk of the time I was carried along by the same sexual euphoria as the others. We drank a lot and Brad seemed able to produce a steady supply of joints at appropriate moments. I had never had so much sex in my life. For years I had been a steady once a night man and by no means every night at that. Now I was doing it between three and four times in every twenty four hour period. Brad was consistently scoring twice to my once and as he ejaculated double the fluid, I calculated that his heavy testicles must manufacture quadruple my amount of semen. 

Sylvia did make reference to his virility saying, "Brad must send out millions more sperm than you do." I disputed this mentioning my calculation and conceding a factor of four but no more. "You're just talking about quantity," she said smugly. "I bet his sperm swim shoulder to shoulder." I was upset by this small exchange for quite a time because I felt that it indicated a certain train of thought.

We played sexually based party games of the 'Truth, dare or promise' variety. During these, I heard things about my wife's past that I had originally been wise not to enquire about and yet, perversely she often chose to pay the forfeit rather than reveal a truth that I knew to be completely innocuous. Another game based on musical chairs involved Sylvia and I sucking Brad's cock alternatively. I had rigged a random timer on my PC and we switched places on the buzzer, competing for which of us was going to collect the prize.

Originally I had tried to indulge in homosexual activity only when my wife was absent but eventually need overcame reticence as Brad became less inclined to indulge my need for privacy. The time came when he sodomised me with Sylvia in the role of spectator. She watched with only casual interest for a while, saying, "I wondered what it would be like to see someone else getting it," but soon began to get excited. Shuffling underneath me, she got my cock in her mouth, at the same time exposing her wet twat to my panting tongue. That was possibly my ultimate sexual experience. On a later occasion when he was doing the same thing to her it was I who shuffled underneath. That too figures on my list of all time greats because I had the perfect close-up view of Brad's magnificent cock sliding in and out of her rectum and at the same time, juices generated by his friction, trickled unimpeded out of her vagina directly into my mouth.

We did a lot of other stuff some of it to do with food. I remember as man and wife, together licking whipped cream from his cock and balls, and myself eating fruit, particularly a banana out of Sylvia's cunt. I actually offered Brad a turn at this but he magnanimously let me continue saying, "I think I may have hogged the show a bit, I'll let you have her all to yourself for a bit." There are other things that I could mention but I think that you will have got the picture.

Brad finally left the house carrying his bag midway through the second Sunday afternoon. When saying farewell to Sylvia, the nearest that he could still come to a kiss was to touch his lips briefly to her forehead. She remained by the door while I walked with him to where his taxi stood waiting. We shook hands. "Now you look after our wife until I get back," he grinning incorrigible as ever. Then without humour he said, "Remember - six months." It could have been taken simply as a reminder of how long he would be away but I didn't think so.

He went to the vehicle, threw his bag onto the back seat and then, as if as an afterthought he came back to me removing something from his pocket. It was a small piece of card that he held out to me. "Just in case you miss me too much, this is the number of a pal of mine. I was actually planning to stay with him until you tempted me with your hospitality." Possibly I had a knowing look on my face because he so he said, "You're wrong - Mark is bi-sexual but he and I work the same end of the park. The thing is that he's a big lad, I know that you'll like him - and if Sylvia gets too frisky for you to handle alone, I think you will find he is multi talented like me. I told him all about you on the telephone." 

Sylvia was waiting for me by the door. I put my arm around her and we went inside together. She heaved a long sigh and said, "Thank God he's gone. You know I felt the madness lifting away from me the moment that he walked out of the door and now I feel free. I can't believe how we have allowed him to take over our lives."

I felt exactly the same and at that moment the events of the previous fortnight seemed totally unreal. Sylvia told me to sit down and then brought a celebration drink to celebrate being on our own again. We drank in silence, I think both us preoccupied with the pleasure of returning to normal. I was still fiddling with the square of white card that Brad had given me and it piqued her curiosity. "Brad has nominated a stand-in in case we miss him too much," I told her with a half laugh.

"What kind of stand-in?"

"A well endowed bi-sexual it seems."

"I was wondering," she said slowly, "Are you going to miss what you and he did together."

"No. I honestly don't think that sort of stuff is really part of my nature - it's a desire that seems peculiar to Brad."