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Finding Charlie - a little action, a little sex.

With his head under my skirt and his hands firmly gripping my bottom he pulled me tight against him and buried his face into my mound. I groaned loudly as his tongue penetrated me. For a few minutes I stood there with the hem of my skirt in my hands. I had them lifted high, high enough to uncover his head but I could not keep it up for long. I was cumming; my knees were starting to tremble and I need to support myself.

Alex brought me to a shattering orgasm as I leant on his shoulders; my skirt fully around his head.

When he pulled away I kissed him; kissed his lips; kissed his cheeks; kissed his chin; I kissed his wet, pussy scented face. His hands then began to frantically tear at his belt. I looked down and watched him free himself; watching him loosen his trousers; watched him push them down and then step out of them; watched him push his boxers down as well and step out of them. I watched him bare himself; bare his throbbing cock. He wanted me; he was rampant and I trembled again at the thought of him penetrating me.

He pulled me over to the settee and twisted me around. I didn't get the chance to bend over voluntarily; he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me down. Moments later my skirt had been lifted around my waist and his cock was pushing against my pussy lips from behind. It was fast; it was furious and it was violent. He gripped my long dark hair and pulled; he slapped my thigh hard and he called me names; wonderful filthy names. He didn't need to call me a fuck whore; he didn't to tell something that I didn't know already. I was a fuck whore and his fuck whore.


It hurt seeing that passion; it hurt watching them kiss; it hurt watching his hand under her skirt. I could understand things from his point of view; he was a man; that's what men do if they get the chance. I remembered the times at the start of our relationship when I tried that and got my hand slapped away. Jane did not slap his hands away; in fact she actually parted her legs wider to give him greater access.

When the door closed behind them I moved down the corridor and stood outside. I wanted to hear them; I wanted to hear them fuck; I wanted to hear her moans and cries as he fucked her; I wanted to hear his groans too as he emptied himself inside her. I wanted to experience their coupling.

I did hear her cries; I heard her groans; I heard the slaps too and heard the names he called her. I heard her tell him that she was his fuck whore. I heard him groan and as I did I could almost feel his emptying of himself inside her.

There was silence for a few minutes and then I heard them talk. Suddenly I heard her call out. "You can come in now Mark."

I walked in like an errant schoolboy. They were stood next to each other by the settee with their arms around one another's waist. Alex was completely naked but Jane was in her Basque and stockings. I had had a feeling that they had something in store for me that night. I wasn't wrong.

I knew instinctively to drop to my knees before them. I knelt before Jane first but as I reached to hold her thighs she said, "Alex first."

I obeyed. He was wet and sticky; his thighs were wet with her juices; his cock was sticky and covered with both his cum and her juices. He wanted cleaning up. Alex, my wife's lover required my services. I was a cuckold and that is what we do.

Part way through Jane moved closer and reached for his cock to lift it. "His balls too cucky." She told me.

My tongue obeyed.

After a few minutes she grabbed me by the hair and guided me too her own thighs. She was wet and sticky too; her pussy was covered with Alex's cum, not just her pussy either. His cum was running down the inside of her thighs to her stocking tops. To some the whole thing might have been degrading and humiliating but to me it was exciting and pleasurable. My wife was filthy with another man's cum and I delighted in cleaning her.


It wasn't just the freedom to fuck other men that excited me about cuckolding; it was also the participation of Mark.

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