The final part of a three-part story

A Cuckold, His Hotwife and Her Lover, Part 3: Three In a Bed

Hudson stands with Evie at the foot of the bed with his arm around her waist. They are looking at Martin, who looks back at them from beneath the duvet. It seems to Evie that her husband’s resolve to see this through is diminishing. He will waver if she gives him time to think, and his jealousy will surface. If she lets it happen, the six months she has spent disarming his fears will have been for nothing. She must act fast.

She turns to face Hudson, going up on tip-toe to kiss him. But before her lips settle on those of her lover, she throws Martin one last look, and a moment of questioning and answering passes between them. Nothing is resolved, and she is left uncertain but no longer cares. She pushes her lips against Hudson’s and lets her straining tongue slip its leash.

Martin watches as Hudson kisses his wife, undoing the belt of her kimono and slipping its silkiness from her shoulders. To see his wife naked in this man’s arms arouses Martin beyond anything he could have imagined.

Evie is a supple and sturdy woman, but Hudson’s six-two of bone and brawn somehow diminishes her. He is too present. There is too much of him. Martin wonders if his wife will cope with whatever it is that strains to be out of his jeans and inside her.

Hudson’s hands are on the buttocks of Martin’s wife. They are two marauders plundering a long-hoarded stash of wifely femininity. Her ass has never looked so delicious, rendered all soft focus and voluptuous in the room’s half-light. How malleable her flesh looks under this intruder’s kneading fingers.

Hudson’s right hand slides into the crevice, and when it has lingered long enough, he slides it lower, down between her legs, which she parts to encourage him as it cups and curls. His fingers rub the swollen lips of her labia.

She tells him to undress and then slips from his arms and goes to her husband, who watches her approach, unsure of her intentions and how he should respond.

It has always aroused Evie to the nth degree whenever they have discussed Hudson, conjuring a scenario like this. Martin tries not to think about how sodden his wife might be between her legs right now.

Will he play a part in what Evie and Hudson now share? No more time to think: she is on the bed beside Martin, pulling back the duvet to reveal his naked body, his over-inflated erection looming over his abdomen.

“Oh, Martin, seems like your cock is getting into the spirit of things,” then smiles and says, “Don’t look so worried. We’re going to have fun, the three of us. You’ll see.”

She kisses Martin using her tongue before sending it on a journey down his body. It calls in on each nipple before arriving at his cock, which she brings to bear with all of her skill.

As his wife sucks him, Martin looks up and sees Hudson at the foot of the bed. He is watching Evie intently, his erection formidable, anticipating its moment. Martin grows smug from seeing his wife desired so intently by this man. It makes her and this moment doubly precious. He is the one true king here, the one with largesse to dispense.

He does not want to cum yet and eases her mouth from his cock. He arranges her on the mattress like goods on display, parting her legs. Her pussy is blatant. Hudson will have no illusions about where his cock must go.

“What do you make of my Evie, eh, Hudson?” Martin says, looking up at their guest while two fingers stir Evie’s clit. “Do thoughts of my Evie give you sleepless nights? I bet it’s been one long nightmare of longing since the party, eh, Mate?”

Martin knows talking like this arouses Evie. He continues his patter while stimulating her clit, his own excitement growing with every word.

“She’s always telling me how much she wants you to fuck her,” Martin continues. “I promised her she could have you. So this is me warming her up for you. Her cunt should be all nice and sloppy by the time you get to her.”

There is silence in the room as Martin kisses his wife. It is a deep and protracted kiss, which Hudson does not interrupt. His mind is still reeling from the day’s events. Knowing this couple has thought of him as an object of their fantasies excites him in a way he had never before known.

“Do you think my wife is beautiful?” Martin asks, pausing from kissing her.

“Absolutely, she is beautiful,” Hudson says without hesitation. “Too fucking beautiful for her own good.”

“Do you like her pussy?” Martin momentarily stops tweaking Evie’s clit, parting her gash with two fingers to reveal a pinkness that glistens in the light of a bedside lamp.

“It’s a beautiful pussy,” Hudson says, looking directly into the eye of the storm Martin is brewing between Evie’s legs.

“I bet you wank thinking about her pussy, don’t you?”

Hudson does not answer; wanking while thinking about Evie is a thing he does far too often.

“I bet you think about licking it, too — don’t you?” He smiles at Hudson, then says, “She wants it as much as you do, mate. So what are you waiting for?”

Hudson does not hesitate. He climbs onto the bed, his face a moon rising between Evie’s legs. Her pussy appears numinous, lent a slick and iridescent sheen by what seeps from her, a glaze that whets his palate. He takes a breath before his lips seal her cunt, isolating his tongue in the stew of her excitement.

Martin wants to be part of what Evie and Hudson share. He seeks out her nipples: one for his tongue, the other for his fore-finger and thumb.

The two men attend to Evie, guided by a single intent. When Martin senses his wife on the brink of orgasm, he slides one hand over her belly to catch her abdominal muscles thrown into spasm, a visceral telling of Evie’s completion.

Before her orgasm is over, Hudson is already positioning himself, his right hand guiding his cock into her. She gives a little grunt as he enters her, adjusting her hips, raising them subtly to encourage him.

The muscles of Evie’s pussy momentarily rebel. And then they relax and let his cock pass. He enters her fully, pushing past the last of her tension until their abdomens clash. He has never fucked a woman whose pussy is so tight yet so sodden with sexual excitement.

Martin is marginalised. He lies on his side watching Evie and Hudson lost to their lovemaking, his head resting in the propped hollow of his left hand. He studies Evie’s face as Hudson ramps up his pace, she gazes up at Hudson, who looms over her, cupping his cheeks while her eyes demand that he attend to her. Her gaze holds him, and she sees that he does not retreat into some inner masculine world of self-congratulation.

It touches a nerve in Martin to see Evie so intent on Hudson, to know how she needs her lover to be utterly present and focused. This is not the pornography he had imagined; it has become lovemaking and not just sex. Hudson is not merely a male body that grunts and extracts pleasure from a woman without giving.

Watching his wife fucked by another man will not be enough for Martin now. His cock is set solid. It is at the point of rupturing. But Evie is totally focused on Hudson, whose hips rise and fall. His cock is implacable, incessantly coming and going. Each thrust Hudson makes loosens Evie’s concern about Martin.

Or so it seems to Martin as he arranges himself, desperate to reclaim some advantage and win back his wife’s attention. He stands at the side of the mattress with his cock in one hand while he gently manoeuvres Evie’s head with the other, turning her to face him, her cheek flat against her pillow.

Martin teases the tip of his cock along her lips. It takes her less than two seconds to understand his need, opening wide to allow the passing of his pre-cum glistening glans.

Attending to her husband’s cock at this point in her lovemaking with Hudson is an altruistic act. She would much rather be here alone with Hudson, kissing him deeply while he fucks her. But she loves her husband and does not want him to feel incidental or sidelined.

And so, while Hudson fucks her, Evie sucks and sucks on Martin’s cock, not wavering or putting it aside when Hudson lets out a moan as his body quakes in orgasm.

Hudson rolls from her, settling himself beside her. She turns to her husband now, her mouth exclusively his. When Martin cums, she swallows and swallows. A special treat. Usually, she dodges the bullet during oral, sending his jizz squirting over his belly.

She lies between her two men, each taking his turn to kiss her.

Later, Hudson dresses and then excuses himself, saying, “Lisa will be wondering where I am, but we must do this again.”

Evie slips out of bed and puts on her kimono. “I’ll see you out,” she tells Hudson.

Martin hears their voices downstairs but cannot tell what they are saying. It sends his imagination running riot. He is not worried about physicality between the pair, but they may be exchanging words of affection, thoughts that the lust of the moment had held in abeyance.

And in the silence that follows their goodbyes, Martin imagines Evie kissing Hudson one last time in a true lovers’ kiss.

And then the thud of the front door closing. The bumps of Evie’s bare feet bounding up the stairs.

She enters the room beaming with the afterglow of their afternoon’s pleasure. Only now does she open the curtains, filling the room with late afternoon spring sunshine.

“He wanted to know when he can come over again,” she says, casually as you please.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I’d talk to you.”

“And what did he say?”

“He could bring Lisa next time. Would you like that?”

Martin thinks about Lisa, her strawberry blonde curls, her pretty face, its speckled freckles, her long legs and those tits of hers — tits in need of a damn good sucking.

His cock is already hard when Evie slips back into the bed and lies down beside him.

Thank you for reading.