Perchance to Dream

(c) 2007. All rights reserved

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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On her back on a bed of fallen leaves, under a canopy of trees, their boughs thick with younger leaves and bent with the swollen fruit of a long, hot summer, my wife's naked body arches. Her breasts thrust upward, as succulent as the green mangoes that hang perilously overhead. Above her, his naked body between her splayed legs, his thickly muscled arms stretched out, the bulging head of his thick, long, dark penis sunk into her flesh, the dark-skinned young man grunts and, flexing his buttocks, drives his hips forward. Beneath him, my wife gasps thickly, her mouth opening wide, her head arching back. Her hands dig into his tough, rounded biceps. Her legs spread wider. Her hips heave eagerly upward. Her feet climb up the backs of his thighs.

They are on the terrace of my neighbour's outhouse across the road. Half a century ago, my neighbour's grandfather built this single-storeyed structure as servants' quarters to his mansion. The outhouse stands tucked away to the northern edge of the large property, barely five feet from the low boundary wall. It's nothing much: a long rough-finished concrete bunker running east-west, set on a plinth raised three feet off the ground and consisting of a series of rooms, each of which opens out onto a small stoop and a flight of three or four steps leading down to the alley between the quarters and boundary wall. There is a common toilet and bath facility at the far end.

Today, the outhouse is rundown and decrepit, its walls stained black with the soot of the years. The area around the outhouse is untended and overgrown.

There are several people in the outhouse. Most of them are surprisingly young; the women in their mid-twenties, the men a little older, some teenaged guys and girls, a couple of infants. I'd guess the oldest guy there would be in his late thirties. Not one of them works for my neighbour. I believe he is fighting with the occupants, trying to evict them. But that's how things are here. Once you've let somebody in, it's impossible getting them out.

It's hardly surprising that he hasn't maintained it. I don't think he bothers much any more. It's cheaper to let them stay on, pay the utility bills and forget about them. I notice he's planted a hedge that divides the main house from the servants' quarters now and there are several large trees. It forms a natural barricade. My neighbour has effectively given up this piece of earth. The occupants of the outhouse are squatting on a fortune in real estate.

The structure has a large, rectangular terrace, approached up an iron ladder at the far, eastern, end. From my window, I can see it clearly, just across the narrow road that separates my house from the neighbour's. There aren't any tall buildings around, just our properties and the surrounding greenery. My house is set off a little to one side. Like the neighbour's main bungalow, ours is a two floor structure. We've given out the lower floor and use the upper floor ourselves. Being a single-storeyed structure, the neighbour's outhouse terrace is below the level of my window. I have an unimpeded view across its entirety. The terrace has low, one-foot high side walls on all four sides, making a perfect, shallow, flat space within.

I stand by my window now, my room in darkness, and stare across the road. There's a sodium-vapour streetlamp on the road. In its pale amber glow, through the barrel of the telescope, I can see their bodies clearly. The man is fucking my wife slowly and heavily and unhurriedly now. I can see them clearly. His white teeth flash in the dull light as he grins down at her. His powerful shoulders knot and bunch together. His taut hips rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Beneath him, her body arches and heaves, her hips rise and falling in unison with his in an erotic dance. Her hands stroke his strong body and deep chest, run down his flanks to his buttocks. Her legs are tighter under his buttocks now.

My pulse is hammering. There is a roaring in my ears. My eyes burn. There's a hollow pit in my stomach, as if I have been punched hard in the solar plexus.

I have a monstrous erection.

I take several deep breaths, exhaling hard each time, fighting my own reaction. No matter how often I see this, no matter how much I want to see this, it's always like the first time, it's always the same.

Yes, I'm a cuckold, and willingly. Yes, other men fuck my wife, regularly and often, and sometimes more than one at the same time. And yes, I watch. Each time, I watch. It is all I can do. It is all I want to do. It's been like this for years now, and there's no longer any doubt that she loves this, being fucked by other men, different men, hard, muscular, dark men. And yes, well-hung men. Size matters to her. Not so much for the actual sex, she often clarifies, as for the mental and visual stimulation of a big cock.

And she likes sleaze, and she likes it rough, the sleazier and the rougher the better. Being fucked by the servants has a special thrill, a cachet and fillip all its own.

But this! I can hardly believe it. Out there, out in the open, and the guy's not even one of our regular servants and it's not even in the privacy of our home. It's out there, right out there in the open. God, she's such a slut!

The guy's moving faster now, thrusting deeper and harder into her. Her body rocks and jerks under his. I can see her swollen breasts jiggling with his thrusts.

It's not a surprise to me that it's happening, though, till now, I didn't believe she would actually go through with it. She's been setting it up for several weeks. I've seen her at it: stealing out of bed late at night, sauntering past the window, opening out her robe to let him have a good look at her breasts; lifting them in offering to him across the road; masturbating openly, flinging her head back and running her tongue sexily over her upper lip; pressing her breasts and writhing against the grillwork of the window; watching him take out his big cock and masturbate right before her eyes. I've seen it all, and I've done nothing.

Nothing except get ready. I waited till she slipped out of bed and out of the bedroom, heard her let herself out softly and immediately knelt on the bed at the window. They came up to the terrace as I suspected they would -- I'd only feared that they would go do it inside, in one of the rooms in the outhouse. I'm solidly in luck.

They're moving faster and I see her pull his head down to hers and I see them kiss, a long, lover's kiss with lots of tongue. He straightens again and now his torso is upright. He holds her ankles and pulls her legs up and wide. He is on his knees, his thighs spread wide, his buttocks on his heels.

He swings his hips viciously back and forth. Through the lens, I can see his huge dark cock pistoning in and out of her cunt. Her body jerks on the terrace floor, her breasts jiggling and bouncing heavily with his thrusts. She lifts and squeezes them, arches steeply. Her mouth is torn open.

A while ago, I saw them come up, her and this young man. I guessed he was probably in his late twenties. They emerged from the shadows at the far end of the terrace, hand-in-hand. She was leading him, and she drew him to the front edge of the terrace, almost as if she wanted me to see her with him. She wore a loose cotton skirt, swirling down around her calves and a thin white cotton shirt. The shirt was almost completely transparent. It was unbuttoned, and its ends were knotted on her belly high under her breasts which strained at the cloth. The guy was bare-chested, clad only in a pair of baggy slacks. His body was superb: dark and muscular, the chest deeply cleaved, the belly hard and flat and nicely cobbled. I saw the power in his shoulders and arms.

When they were in the front half of the terrace -- where I could see them clearly -- she turned and he drew her closer and I watched them kiss, his hands on her hips, then her buttocks, her hands sliding sexily up his hard chest, fondling his head and face. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He slid his hands up her naked midriff and opened out the knot of her shirt, pulled it down her slender shoulders. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts were already heavy and swollen. Through the 'scope, I saw the hardness of her nipples. He squeezed her breasts. I saw the flash of his white teeth as he grinned at her. She tilted her face back languorously. Her lips moved in a soft murmur. His grin widened. Her hand slid down to his crotch. He moved his hands to her buttocks, drew her skirt up her thighs, right up to her hips. She didn't have any panties on either. His big, dark hands roamed the curves of her buttocks. I saw him strike them, sharply, saw her mouth open in a gasp, saw her body quiver at his blow. He struck her again.

She sank downwards, kissing his torso, licking his dark nipples, slowly descending to her knees before the man. I watched her open the clasp, pull down the zipper fly and peel the trousers open. He wasn't wearing undershorts either. His cock sprang out. I groaned at sight of it. It was a huge dark hose. Still limp, its six-inch plus length curved over his heavy balls. Not yet erect, it was bigger than mine in full tumescence.

There was no doubt that she loved it, was intensely turned on by it. I could see them clearly, in profile to me. She ran her fingers lovingly down the thick shaft, caressing it, kissing the shaft and cock-head, pumping it deftly. The light glinted off her gold wedding band. She slipped back the foreskin and the huge bulging cock-head was at her lips. His cock began to lengthen and thicken. Her lips parted and her tongue swept out and around the cock-head. The man gasped, his head slowly arching in pleasure, his mouth open, raising his face to the dark sky above.

Kneeling at his feet, one hand on his strong thigh, the other curled around the thick enormity of his cock, jerking it back and forth, my wife opened her mouth wider and drew his cock into it. She began sucking the young man's huge cock, rocking her head back and forth in front of him, hollows in her cheeks as she sucked harder. His hand fell to her head, gently caressing her face, her lips, feeling his cock go in and out of her mouth. He stood with the other hand on his hip, moving his hips gently back and forth, fucking her face. Her fingers curled again around the base of his shaft, then pumped the cock eagerly. Her mouth opened and her tongue worked the cock-head and shaft eagerly. I saw her drop her head under it, running her tongue and teeth down the cock-shaft, caressing her face with it, going down lower to lick and suck his balls. Her head rose again, and I saw her take his cock deep in her mouth once more. Her hands moved down to her breasts, lifting and squeezing them in unfaked arousal. The man's head was bent, watching her, his hands on her head now, moving it to and fro to suit his pleasure as he fucked her face.

She sucked his cock like some porn queen, her cheeks distending as it went in, her mouth opening wide to receive him. I couldn't understand how he could stand it for so long and not explode. He was more man than I, that much was evident.

Finally he stopped her and they slid to the floor, kissing deeply and wantonly, with wide open mouths and lots of tongue-play. I saw her eagerly sucking his tongue into her mouth while her hand jerked his cock; saw his tongue at her ear, his lips at her throat, then on her breasts, saw him squeeze and suck and nibble them, saw her arch her back and open her mouth in a love call I knew only too well, though I couldn't hear it.

The man moved over her, pulled her knees open, moved between them, bent over her on his forearms and knees, her swollen breasts flattening under his deep chest. His buttocks flexed and his hips sank downward and I saw her back bow under his body, her head slowly tilting back, her mouth feverishly questing his. Her legs rose and wound around his thighs, under his buttocks. Her hands roamed his back lovingly. His buttocks rose and fell, flexed and unflexed. Beneath him, her body rocked and jerked with his thrusts, her hips rising and falling in unison with his. I watched her kiss him again, holding his head in her hands and wantonly sucking his tongue into her mouth. He broke, and rose, bending his head to her breasts, sucking on them, whipping the nipples with his tongue. Her chin dropped and her face turned slightly to one side, facing me and I saw her slow, wanton smile, the radiance of lust on her face, saw her caress his head tenderly on her breasts.

He's on his knees now, holding her legs up high and wide, his powerful shoulders knotting, his face tight with tension. His hips slide rapidly back and forth, his cock cleaving deep into her split wide open cunt. She is pinned to the floor of the terrace and I see her head flipping from side to side, her features contorted with lust, her teeth bared, her hands on her bouncing breasts. I can lip-read her love-calls: fuck me! Fuck me harder! Chodh mujhe!

The man stops and pulls out of her and rolls her over onto her front, slapping her buttocks. On her hands and knees, she awaits him, a bitch in deep rut. Her gold necklace hangs free of her skin, swaying slightly. He positions himself behind her. She takes her weight on one arm, and lifts the other hand to a pendulous breast, squeezing it eagerly. The man pries her buttocks open, his thumbs in the crease between her buttocks, his big fingers on her butt-cheeks. Holding her firmly, he slowly flexes his buttocks and slides his hips forward, arching his head back, his mouth open in a gasp. Beneath him, she bites her lower lip and lifts her head, too, her eyes fluttering shut. I see her mouthing more obscenities.

The man begins to fuck her unhurriedly, holding her hips and moving her body back and forth before him, swinging his hips to and fro. Through the 'scope, I see his huge cock appearing and disappearing between the smooth curves of her buttocks. Her breasts bounce and jiggle heavily with their motions. Her gold necklace swings to and fro. He moves faster and then bends forward over her back, cupping her breasts in his hand. She turns her face over a slender shoulder and he kisses her, another lascivious, wanton kiss.

He straightens and begins fucking her harder and deeper and faster, jerking her body heavily back and forth, whipping his hips to and fro. Her head arches, her mouth snaps open. He swings a leg forward astride her hip. She sinks to her forearms on the floor, her head bowing, her shoulders squeezing together. He pauses slightly and moves the other leg forward so that he is now straddling her hips in a low squat. His hands pressed to her back, he begins fucking her furiously, with demonic thrusts, ramming his cock down deep into her again and again. Her hands are clenched together under her face, her forearms angled towards each other. Her head hangs in wanton surrender. I see her orgasm hitting her, see her head rising slowly, her mouth opening in a soundless cry. Her body sinks lower still, her face turned to one side on the leaf-litter, her shoulders pressed to the ground, her trembling hips thrust up high.

The man continues fucking her, but slowly now. He slows, and slows and then pulls out of her and lurches to his feet. Moaning, she turns, sitting on the ground, her arms stretched out behind her, her face turned up. The man stands over her, behind her head, pushes his cock into her mouth. He groans, his head flung back, his cock going in and out of her mouth. She reaches up to jerk it. I see her sucking it eagerly, jerking it, working it feverishly with her tongue.

He cums explosively, into her wide open mouth, flooding it, spattering her face and breasts with his seed. I watch, transfixed, horrified, aroused, as she jerks his cock for more, swallows his cum, lasciviously laps the last few drops off his cock-head and takes his cock gently into her mouth again. The man steps back. She smiles up at him. I see her thanking him. He drops to his knees behind her, puts his arms around her. She leans against his chest. He runs his fingers through the cum on her breasts, feeds it to her mouth. She sucks it lovingly. He cups her breasts. They kiss again.

A few minutes later, she slips into her shirt, pulls on her skirt. The man pulls on his trousers. They kiss again and, hand in hand, walk into the darkness at the back of the terrace.

II

"Oh god yes, oh god yes!" I gasp, my eyes fluttering open.

Above me, rocking eagerly up and down on my cock, my wife moans. Her heavy breasts bounce and jiggle. I watch, aroused beyond belief, as she lifts one heavy breast and bends her head, licking her own nipple, first one, then the other. It's an incredible sexy action. She holds her breasts and bounces up and down on my cock. Her cunt squeezes, lets go, squeezes.

"Ohhh god yes!" she moans. "Fuck me! Fuck me baby, fuck me!"

God, she looks so lovely, her gold necklace tossing on her skin, her face glowing with lust. I hold her hips and buck my own eagerly up and down beneath her. The fire in my groin is unbearable, intensified only by the images that have flooded my head.

But it was just a dream. Oh thank god, it was just a dream. She's been here with me all the time, I've just been dreaming all that. God, I want her so much. I heave up harder and faster. She cries out, loudly now and leans forward and her hands tighten on the bars of the window grill. Her hips rise and fall over mine. Her breasts look luscious, gorgeous, heaving and bouncing sexily above my face. I crane my neck and suck on her stiff nipples, squeezing the mounds together, taking both nipples into my mouth at once. She moans.

I hear the whistle. Quite distinctly, a two-note call, a long note, then a shorter one. It's repeated. I know she hears it too. She moans again, and, looking up, I see her eyes are open wide. Looking out. Her tongue runs sexily over her upper lip. She leans further forward to the window, lifting and squeezing her breasts eagerly. The whistle again.

No. Oh god no. It can't be ... no, it can't be ... it was a dream ... but ... it's impossible! I can smell him on her! I swear I can. The woodsy, muskiness of him, his sweat, his cum. No! It can't be! And there, between her breasts, is that the stickiness of his cum still?

I heave her off me and roll her over onto her front, facing the window. She grips the bars of the window, her elbows on the window sill. I kneel behind her and run my cock into her, hard. She cries out, her head lifting. I begin fucking her, hammering my hips wildly back and forth. She cries out again, jerking and rocking under me, her cunt tight on my cock.

My eyes snap to the window. And then, across the road, in the pale amber glow of the streetlamp, I see him. The man from my dream. Watching us from the terrace. He steps forward into puddle of light. He is bare-chested, wearing only baggy slacks. I see his teeth flash in the darkness. He knows he has my attention now. Slowly, he unzips his trousers, draws out his cock. It is exactly as I saw in my dream. He strokes his cock lovingly with one hand, the other arm across his hard-muscled torso. He pumps his hips back and forth towards my wife's face. I lip-read him saying her name. He raises his free arm, his hand in a closed fist, turned down, and makes the universal pumping gesture for a fuck. Oh god, no!

My eyes open. The room is dark, the curtains drawn. The windows are shut. Beneath me, on all fours, my wife groans. I lean forward, relief and joy flooding my head, and bend over her, nuzzling the nape of her neck lovingly. She doesn't turn her head. I slide my hands under her body to her heavy breasts.