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  Operation: Cuckold by Delores Swallows

  Chapter 1

  They lay side by side staring at the ceiling. Harry could hear his wife’s breathing—short intakes of anger and frustration.

  “I’m sorry, Michelle.”

  “Why won’t you see someone about it?”

  “I will.”

  “You said you’d see your doctor months ago, yet here we are again...”

  “I’ll make an appointment, okay?”

  “This is the sort of things that affects older men, not someone who’s thirty-one.”

  “It’s not every time, though. It was okay the other night when we—”

  Michelle turned to look at him. “The other night you weren’t fully hard, but you spooned it in. By the time it was getting hard enough for me to get any pleasure, you came.”

  “But you came as w—”

  “No, I didn’t.” Michelle shook her head once, a sadness filling her eyes. “I faked it, Harry. I pretended I’d come because I know you’re anxious. But something’s got to change.”

  Harry saw her tears and hated himself. What the fuck’s wrong with me? “I’ll get some pills. I’ve got a spam folder full of suppliers.”

  “I think it’s all in your head.”

  Harry sat forward, puzzled. “What d’you mean by that?”

  “I think you’re having issues with me.”

  “No I’m not. Why would you think that?”

  Michelle shrugged.

  He waited for her to say something, but she just stared at the ceiling, her eyes over-bright. He stroked his hand across the flat of her belly. “I’m married to the best-looking woman I know, and for some reason I can’t get it up for her. Whatever my problem is, it’s physical.”

  She shook her head. “When you’re asleep you get amazing erections.”

  This news surprised him. “When?”

  “It’s happened a few times.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I feel them pushing against my back. Or I put my arm around you and feel it pressed against your tummy.”

  “Maybe you should use me then.”

  She gave a half-smile. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it.”

  “I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll make an appointment.”

  She nodded, turned the light off and they settled down under the quilt. Michelle slept soundly, but Harry lay awake for hours.

  * * *

  A few days later while using their tablet, Harry accidentally clicked on the Kindle app, which opened up the current page of a story Michelle must be reading. He was about to close it when a line jumped out at him.

  “You don’t need to know everything, you only need to know how many cocks I had inside me. How many cocks I sucked.”

  Harry skimmed down the rest of the page. The woman in the story had admitted she’d just cheated, but before she’d finished describing the details, her husband had ejaculated over his stomach. He opened the library; there were a lot of books he’d never seen before. He scanned the titles and thumbnail icons of the covers. Most featured muscled torsos of shirtless men.

  Michelle was working in the kitchen, so Harry read the blurbs and skim-read several of the stories. Nearly all involved a married woman who had sex with other men. But the cheating wife—known as a hotwife, apparently—made sure her husband knew about her infidelities. She’d either describe it, or, in some of the books, actually make him watch while she had sex with the other men.

  Harry had a strange tightness in his stomach. He closed the app, his mind racing. Had Michelle always read dirty stories? And if so, had she always liked this type, or was it a new fantasy thanks to his inadequacies?

  Michelle shouted something from the kitchen and when Harry stood he felt a wetness inside his boxers. He was actually aroused by the thought of Michelle reading this kind of story, but wasn’t sure why.

  The following Saturday, Harry was playing tennis when his opponent pulled a calf muscle in only the second game. The match was cancelled and Harry arrived home two hours earlier than planned. He dumped his kit in the kitchen and as he walked through into the hall, he heard Michelle’s voice from upstairs. He was about to shout up and announce his presence when he heard her again and paused. He’d assumed she was on the phone, but this time it sounded more like a groan.

  Harry stood with one foot on the bottom stair, his mind and pulse both racing. Was there another man with her? He crept up a couple of stairs and heard her moan again. Now certain her moans were a result of sexual pleasure, coldness gripped his stomach. Before he reached the landing he became aware of another noise and his gut relaxed, but his heart beat a little faster. It was a low buzzing sound.

  The bedroom door stood slightly ajar and he crept along the landing towards it. From the door he could see the bottom half of the bed. Michelle’s feet were placed apart and heel-down, her toes pulled up. He inched his head further to the right and her legs came into view, knees bent and raised slightly off the sheet. He heard another guttural moan, and his cock stirred inside his tennis shorts.

  Harry moved a little further so he could see her body up to the shoulders. She wore a t-shirt, but was naked from the waist down. Her right hand eased a vibrator in and out of her sex in a slow, steady rhythm. Her left hand supported the tablet, which rested on the bed. She was watching a porn film. The screen definition was clear enough for Harry to see a woman on her hands and knees being fucked from behind. As the guy increased the speed of his thrusts, so Michelle increased the intensity of her arm movements. In the film the man withdrew and the girl turned round. She opened her mouth wide as he ejaculated, some of his cum hitting the target, but some also landing on her cheek. Michelle dropped the tablet back on the bed and raised her hips, pounding herself with the vibrator until she screamed her release. Her hand movements eventually slowed, rocking the toy forward and back rather than stabbing with it. Michelle’s breathing was heavy and Harry’s cock was rigid.

  He stepped into the room. Michelle yanked out the vibrator and spent a split second trying to conceal it but gave up, looking resigned and embarrassed. Harry pushed down his shorts and released his cock. She stared at it with wide eyes, then looked at his face. He grabbed her feet and pulled her down the bed towards him. She parted her legs and he pushed inside her. His cock was harder than it’d been in months. He pulled her onto his thrusts, each one making her yelp. He continued his onslaught until the contractions of her second orgasm made him erupt inside her. He cried out and she wriggled and rocked her hips, squeezing herself around him. He closed his eyes and felt the tension draining away.

  Harry eased out of her and stripped off his tennis kit. Michelle slipped off her t-shirt and they both climbed into bed. Harry picked up the tablet. The video clip was still running. The actor was now sitting in a chair, the actress kneeling between his legs. The guy had another erection and Harry noticed how well-endowed he was. His cock must have been at least nine inches long, the girth so thick the actress struggled to get her lips around it.

  Harry nodded at the screen. “Jesus. I can see how he got a job in porn movies.”

  Michelle kept her head on his shoulder and her eyes on the screen. “Yeah.”

  “Probably didn’t even need to audition, just send in a picture.” He felt her smile against his arm. “Michelle, I saw the books in the Kindle library.”

  He felt her stiffen slightly, so he turned and kissed her head. “I had a look at a few of them. There’s a common theme.”

  “Yeah, I suppose…”

  “D’you want to talk about it?”

  She sat up. “Talk about what?”

  Not wanting to lose this closeness, he tried to defuse any confrontation. “I thought we could talk about the stories you’ve been reading.”

  “There’s a few books, so I’m not really sure—”


  “The ones I saw all seemed to involve a hotwife.”

  “Er, yeah.”

  Harry tried to sound casual. “It’s not a big thing, but if you wanted to—”

  “They’re just stories, Harry.”

  He stroked her hair. “They’re stories about married women getting fucked senseless by strangers with big cocks.”

  Michelle laughed. “Yeah, I suppose they are. It’s escapism—and a common fantasy.”

  “Does it turn you on?”

  Michelle shrugged. “Some of the books are good. They’re stories about a lot of things, relationships and stuff. They’re not just about the sex.”

  “How long have you been into those ones?”

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  He didn’t answer because on the screen the woman had just made the guy come again. This time he’d ejaculated between her silicone-enhanced breasts. When Harry glanced at Michelle, she was staring at the screen, watching the actress massage the cum into her breasts with red-nailed fingers.

  Harry cleared his throat. “I got really turned on watching you.”

  “I’m sorry I—”

  “There’s nothing to apologise for. I know you have needs.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t need me making things worse by—”

  “You gave me the first proper hard-on I can remember in ages.”

  She looked into his eyes. “Why then, though? Why not when I want you inside me?”

  “I don’t know. I love your body, and to see you in the throes of ecstasy was a big turn on. I was on the landing for a while.”

  Michelle’s eyes widened. “How long?”

  “A few minutes. I could have walked in earlier, but I wanted to see you make yourself come.”

  “Why didn’t you join me and make me come with your cock, instead?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I considered sneaking off after I’d watched, but thought my hard-on was too good to waste.”

  “Hmm, it was.”

  “Michelle…”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I’ve been thinking…”

  “Oh?”

  “I read part of one of the books you’ve downloaded.”

  She had a smile on her face. “Yeah?”

  “About a married woman who’d fucked around.”

  “A hotwife,” she corrected.

  “Right. Well, I liked the story. I found it exciting.”

  “They’re popular with women and men.”

  He nodded. “I can see it’d be a nice fantasy.”

  Michelle held his gaze, still smiling.

  “Do you get wet when you read them?”

  Michelle laughed and shook her head. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed.”

  “How would you feel if I’d caught you beating your meat and watching porn?”

  Harry saw her point. “When women do it, it’s sexy.”

  Michelle frowned, showing she didn’t agree.

  “Do the stories make you wet?”

  “Oh, for god’s sake! Yes, Harry, they make me wet. Happy now?”

  “What if I suggested you make it more than a fantasy?” Harry bit his lip, his stomach in knots.

  She turned away from him, stared out of the window.

  He wasn’t sure if he’d upset her. “So what do you think?”

  Michelle shook her head, puzzled. “What’re you on about?”

  “After I saw the books, I started thinking.”

  She watched him but didn’t interrupt.

  “The fact I’m having problems with…” He nodded towards his crotch.

  “Harry, please don’t make this—”

  “No, listen. I know you’re not getting what you need, and I feel bad about it. After reading bits of those books, I started imagining you getting what you need from somebody else.”

  “That’s not going to happen. I love you, and all I need is for you to get back to normal.”

  “I know, and I will. But it’d be a short-term fix.”

  Michelle shook her head. “I don’t need a short-term fix. I need you, long term.”

  “You’ll always have me. But…”

  “But what?” A playfulness crept into her smile.

  “But while we’re waiting for me to get back to normal, you could have a one-night stand with some bull and get what you need from him.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “You’d let me do that?”

  Harry shook his head. “Not let you—I’d encourage you to do it.”

  “Why? To ease your guilt?”

  “No, although it may make me less anxious. But the idea of you getting pleasured by someone else turns me on.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I read those stories, I suppose. But what really convinced me is how I felt when I watched you with your vibrator.”

  “Don’t keep going on—”

  “I loved it. The fact you were watching porn made it even hotter.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you weren’t thinking about the vibrator, you were pretending it was him fucking you, his big cock inside you.”

  Michelle wouldn’t—or couldn’t—look at him.

  He sat up in bed, took her hand in his. “Don’t be embarrassed—that’s what turned me on the most. That’s why I think you should get the real thing. It’s not that I want to share you, but a night like that could help both of us.”

  “Harry, watching me masturbate and imagining me with somebody else are two very different things.”

  “I wouldn’t want to imagine you with somebody else. I’d want to watch.”

  “What? You can’t be serious. I don’t know what part of your body’s doing the thinking, but it’s not your brain.” She got up and walked into the bathroom.

  Harry heard the water running, got out of bed and followed her. Michelle was just stepping into the shower and he joined her. He picked up the soap and started to wash her shoulders. He waited until she looked up into his eyes before he spoke. “You can’t pretend the idea doesn’t appeal.”

  “It’s a nice idea, but I don’t intend cheating on you.”

  “It wouldn’t be cheating. I’ve told you, it’s what I want.”

  She shook her head. “Harry, why are you doing this?”

  “Because I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.”

  “I know. But I want to make you even happier.”

  Michelle smiled. “Hmm, we’ll see.”

  They finished their shower and spent what was left of the afternoon doing chores around the house and garden. They decided to eat out, and after a nice meal in their regular pub, they were sitting on a leather couch near an open fire.

  Harry leaned close to whisper in her ear. “What sort of guy do you fantasise about?”

  Michelle smiled mischievously. “Oh, the usual. Hard body, big cock.”

  Harry tried to maintain his smile. He knew his cock was nothing like the one in the film. Stats said that six inches was average, so Harry was almost average. But he felt inadequate. Michelle’s vibrator was two inches longer and considerably thicker than his cock. “What would you want him to do to you?”

  She started to shake her head, but Harry rubbed his leg against hers. “Come on, it’s your fantasy. Tell me what you’d want him to do.”

  “Fuck me.” Michelle shook her hair back from her face and looked straight into his eyes. “I’d want him to fuck me. Hard, and from behind.”

  He had a lump in his throat. “Like in the film.”

  “Yeah, like in the film. I’d want to be used like that.”

  “What about safe sex?”

  She hesitated. “That’s something I hadn’t considered. It’s only ever been a fantasy, but I suppose a condom would be wise.”

  Harry thought back to the film, and remembered her raising herself up off the bed at the point of the guy’s climax, achieving her own at the same time. “But in your
fantasy the guy doesn’t wear a condom, does he?”

  She gave a half-smile and shook her head. “No, in my fantasy there’s no condom.”