The Cuckold's Nests Ch. 01

Life's busy and it's been a while since I posted a story. I've branched out from my previous themes for this.

PLEASE NOTE: as with many of my stories, this has a slow build up. This chapter simply sets the scene for what follows. It's an approach that helps me to get into the various characters and to develop the story, and I enjoy the detail and tension. You may not, but at least you know what to expect. The second chapter will follow very soon...

SPELLCHECKED FOR UK USAGE

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Neither Raymond nor Ruth spoke to each other about the evening that lay ahead, each preoccupied, and each fearing to voice concerns or doubts lest the other feeling pressured into calling off the whole sordid but exciting thing.

It had started off as light-hearted banter about each other's fantasies, and had gradually become more serious as each began to open up and sound out the other. They had in fact explored, and enjoyed, a few role-play scenarios, and, having been married for twenty-two years, and now in their early fifties, they had enjoyed the variety and novelty that these brought to their sex lives. They'd never tried - or considered - swinging. Each feared that it might get out of control and go beyond a sexual activity and into jealousy, infidelity, and a marital breakdown.

After some time, and again light-heartedly initially, Ruth had admitted to fantasising about having sex with another man, but openly, with Raymond's approval, and perhaps even in his presence. He was shocked at first, but after some thought had found the idea appealing. They'd agreed certain rules and pledged to adhere to them. And, with some trepidation and excitement, they had finally begun to put out some feelers. The internet made this so much easier than it once would have been, of course.

They had contacted a few potential candidates and Lee was the first whom they wanted to meet. He readily admitted to having a "thing" about older women, especially about older, married women, and at twenty-six years old, he ticked their boxes for a younger man. They had arranged to meet in a pub roughly twenty miles from their home town, and a little further from his. Raymond owned a house renovation business, buying up neglected houses to renovate and re-sell. If all went to plan - and especially for their first meeting - they could bring Lee back to a house that was almost ready to sell. It would be a safeguard, and more discreet than bringing the stranger back to their own home.

By seven o'clock on the fateful evening, they started to get ready. Ruth went to the bathroom for a shower. With a twinkle in her eye, she told Raymond that she would be a little while as she wanted to "trim her lady bush" in preparation for the evening. He shuddered with delight and nervousness at the attention and intimacy that she was giving to her preparations - and his shudder was due in part to the hoped-for outcome.

He watched his wife hungrily as she came back to the bedroom. Her wet, dyed hair was short and honey-coloured, and clung to her scalp. Under her satin dressing robe her ample, slightly sagging breasts shook and swayed deliciously, and temptingly. He reached out and groped one of them teasingly through the slippery fabric, but she tapped his hand with hers and pushed it away.

"Not now, Raymond. Maybe later. Not now. At least not till after..." Her voice tailed off at this point.

What was left unsaid needed no elaboration. "Until after I've let HIM have a feel" was what she intended. "I'm saving myself for the stranger. You aren't to intrude - not yet. Tonight is about HIM and I, not YOU and I, Raymond..."

He accepted her gentle reprimand, and contented himself with watching her, feasting his eyes upon her with renewed, jealous, frustrated interest. Their plans, and her non-availability to him, made her seem sexier than normal. He took in the curves of her body, her ripe breasts half-hidden under her robe, her waist curving to her matronly hips - she was a dress size 14, and her slightly plump legs looking good below her robe hem.

Raymond found the prospect of a stranger leering at his wife - blatantly, and in his presence - exciting. The prospect of seeing the man touching up his wife repulsed and appealed to him almost equally. .

Ruth caught his gaze and held it with hers. Her expression was intense. She sat down at her dressing table and began to dry her hair. Raymond said nothing. Instead he headed to the shower himself. Once there he luxuriated in the warm, jetting water, letting it pulse onto his half-erect member. He stroked himself, but was determined not to go too far, wanting to save himself for later.

He returned to the bedroom and towelled off in front of her. She looked approvingly at his erection. He felt it subside a little as he wondered whether she would soon be looking at Lee's. He hoped that his own would compare favourably.

He watched his wife as she stepped to the wardrobe and lifted out a black, knee-length skirt. It had buttons up one side, from the hem almost to the waistband. Raymond hadn't seen it before. He said nothing, but his thoughts raced. NEW. SHE'S BOUGHT A NEW SKIRT ESPECIALLY FOR THE OCCASION! ESPECIALLY FOR HIM! AS IF SHE DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH NICE CLOTHES, SHE'S GOT SOMETHING TO GET HER IN THE MOOD ESPECIALLY FOR HIM! The realisation excited him. His erection returned.

He stepped into his boxers and best jeans, a little conscious of his paunch, conscious that Lee enjoyed competitive running and was taller and leaner than he was - and younger. He watched as his wife lifted out from the wardrobe a brown blouse, with a snakeskin pattern, that she had worn many times previously. It was one of his favourites. She always wore it tucked loosely into her skirt or trousers so that, although it didn't cling to her D-cup breasts, it hung closely enough for their size and shape to be obvious. The pattern of the fabric drew the eye to her breasts, too, and seemed to emphasise their rise and fall and gentle surging underneath. She held it against the skirt and examined the combination, then hung both garments by their coat hangers on the wardrobe door handle.

His eyes followed her back to the dressing table, admiring the way her robe hem flicked her fleshy thighs, and delighting in the shimmering of the black, floral-print satin. She turned her back to him and opened the drawer. He let his eyes rove over the matronly curves of her backside and hips as she rummaged in her drawer of underwear.

To his shock, and a little to his annoyance, she lifted out the matching set he had bought her just a few months earlier for their wedding anniversary. It had a designer label, and had been quite expensive, black with silver-grey embroidery. She had enjoyed wearing it for him on a number of occasions since, and he had enjoyed her in it and savoured removing it from her.

She inspected the matching bra and panties, and placed them gently on the bed, then did the same with the matching suspender belt. Then she lifted out a pair of sheer, tan stockings with dark seams.

Raymond stared intently as his wife, paying him no attention, unfastened the belt of her robe and slid it off her shoulders. He watched it glide down her curvy body and onto the floor.

His hungry gaze swept over her ample, slightly sagging breasts, and over the creases of her belly. His eyes rested on her crotch, and he had to stifle a sharp intake of breath.

She had indeed "trimmed her lady bush." She usually part-shaved and part-trimmed, leaving a fair amount of close-trimmed hair. Tonight she had shaved it completely, apart from a patch above her pouting pussy, where she now sported a narrow but long, untrimmed crop of hair. It was darker than the dyed light brown hair on her head. It looked soft, luxuriant, and inviting, and led the eye to her large labia. He felt another surge of jealousy and excitement that she had trimmed it, and trimmed it differently for a stranger's benefit. He feasted his gaze on her meaty labia and the way that they protruded.

He watched her pick up the designer panties that he had bought for her, and watched her bend to step into them and work them up her strong-looking legs. Her breasts swung forward and jiggled as she did so, and he watched her adjust her panties around her waist and crotch. His eye focussed on her wedding and engagement rings, which the next few hours would make a travesty. He watched her adjust the gusset and waistband. He stared at the form of her pussy through the fabric.

For her part, Ruth was acutely aware of her husband's eager attention, but she feigned oblivion. Her heart was pounding with nerves and excitement of her impending liaison with the young stranger. She fought back the self-recrimination, the sordid nature of it all. She tried not to dwell on the way they had got to the point of discussing it, the thrill and shame of searching for a companion. This was the term that she and her husband had used between themselves. Others came to her mind - and, if she had known it, to his, also: one-night stand, stud, gigolo, fuck-buddy...

She picked up the bra that Raymond had bought her, and clipped it under her ample breasts, then fed it round and pulled the cups up over them, and the straps onto her shoulders. She looked down at her generous cleavage, and knew that her husband's eyes were also fixed on it. Her stomach fluttered with the hope that Lee would be similarly enthralled.

Her pulse quickened with excitement as she put on the suspender belt. She made no eye contact with Raymond, but was acutely conscious of his jealous look as she rolled her stockings, stepped into them and eased them up her legs. She rested each foot in turn on the bed as she fastened the suspenders, thrilling in her husband's eager gaze upon her wide, lacy stockingtops and on the bare tops of her thighs and flanks.

She turned slowly towards him, but she looked over her shoulder into the mirror to check how the seams were lined up. She made a few adjustments.

Raymond again felt a surge of emotion, annoyance and arousal at the trouble to which she was going to flaunt herself for a liaison with a stranger. He finished dressing, shooting sidelong glances at his wife as she applied her make-up and sorted out her hair, aroused and jealous that she would soon be removing the clothes she had so carefully selected under the lustful gaze of a stranger - and, as if that wasn't shameful enough, the gaze of a stranger who was virtually half her age.

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They struggled to make conversation in the car, both preoccupied with their own thoughts, doubts, fears and desires. Raymond found himself looking at Ruth as he drove, noting the rise and fall of her breasts under the snakeskin-print blouse, and admiring their size and shape. A bead of perspiration formed on his brow at the prospect of those breasts - untouched by any other man than him in the last twenty-two years - being groped and mauled by a stranger within the next few hours. Her nipples were just visible against her blouse, and he tried to drive to the back of his mind imagined images and sounds of another man kissing and nuzzling them, teasing them taut and grunting his approval and lust in her ear. For her part, Ruth was acutely aware of the intensity of her husband's jealous desire for her. She felt a twinge of naughty delight.

Once when he changed gear Raymond rested his hand on her knee just below her skirt hem. He savoured its warmth and the feel of her sheer stockings, and fondled it tenderly. She allowed him to linger for a few moments, enjoying his attention, before nudging it away.

"No more for now, love. Maybe... we'll see..." Her voice tailed off. It sounded slightly husky with excitement.

Once inside the pub they found a quiet corner. About two thirds of the seats and tables were taken. Raymond had tried to time their arrival so that they would be in good time but without having to wait too long for their "companion" to arrive. Both he and Ruth tried to avoid looking at their watches, partly to avoid looking conspicuous, and partly to avoid looking unduly anxious to each other. Raymond brought a couple of soft drinks to the table. He was due to drive home and needed to remain sober; Ruth planned to have a glass of red wine when Lee joined them, but was determined to remain sober, and to insist that their companion should do the same. Again, they both found conversation difficult.

They both noticed Lee as soon as he entered the pub, and recognised him from his description and from the photos he had sent in exchange for theirs. At six feet three inches tall, he was taller than Raymond was, and his slim build made him look even taller. His wiry build made it easy to imagine him running competitively as he had told them. They both caught his eye, and Raymond went to meet him at the bar and to buy him a drink.

Ruth's mind was in a whirl as she ran her eyes over the young man. This was almost the point of no return, and the momentousness made her pulse race. As he walked over towards her with Raymond, she stood up and stepped a few feet away from the table. He returned her smile with his boyish smile, and his pale eyes seemed to piece her. Her stomach fluttered in response.

They shook hands, and Ruth gestured Lee to take the corner seat. It was part of her plan, though Raymond was unaware of it. Ruth sat beside Lee, and Raymond sat opposite him.

They made light conversation for a time. After all, this was the first time they had met, despite exchanging e-mails and speaking on he telephone. She and Raymond asked him about his running. He asked them about their recent holiday. As they spoke, Lee's eyes strayed repeatedly and blatantly to Ruth's neckline, taking in her cleft and the crazed, lined skin below her throat, and watching her breasts as they swelled and subsided under her blouse with her breathing. Ruth and Raymond were acutely aware of his interest. They both exchanged glances, and both blushed.

Ruth was thrilled that he found her attractive - or, rather, sexy. It aroused her that he, like them, was hoping he would strike lucky tonight. She glanced casually around the pub to check that nobody was paying them any attention. To her relief, nobody was, though a part of her was disappointed, daring to hope, however feebly, that somebody suspected, and that their suspicions would be well founded. The middle-aged couple and the young man. The couple and the toyboy. The wife, her young lover who was half her age, and her cuckolded husband, part willing, part jealous...

After about twenty minutes, Raymond leaned forward to speak to Lee as quietly as the background noise would allow, outlining in person the conditions that they required of him and that had already been listed in their e-mails. He tried to make light of mentioning that, as the house was under renovation, there would be tools and timber to hand if Lee overstepped the mark. Lee laughed nervously at the veiled threat.

As Raymond was speaking, Ruth reached down and took Lee's hand in hers. Screened from view by the overhang of the table and by her own body, she stroked his young skin. She looked down and saw his finger caress her wedding and engagement ring. She noticed with satisfaction his look of surprise.

Raymond was still reminding the young man about some of the conditions of the liaison as Ruth led his hand to the side spilt of her skirt, resting his fingers between two of the buttons.

"That nice, love?" she asked softly.

Lee looked her in the eye and nodded. To her delight he looked down under the table. She led his hand between the next pair of buttons, and guided his fingers to her lacy stockingtop. She let go of his hand and nonchalantly looked around the pub again. Still nobody was watching, and if they were they would have been unable to see what was happening, their facial expressions giving the only clue to anything untoward.

She felt giddy with excitement and shame, and made herself speak slowly.

"I'm glad you like my legs, love. I sometimes wish they were a bit slimmer, but Raymond always says he prefers fleshy legs to skinny ones..."

Her hand was trembling, but she unfastened one of the buttons and led Lee's whole hand inside the opening. He almost spluttered on his mouthful of beer with the surprise of encountering stockings. Still screened from view, he stroked her lacy stockingtop, and played with her suspender.

"That even nicer, love?" she asked quietly, as his hand caressed her skin above the top of her stocking, and eased her thighs open a little to fondle the soft, sensitive bare skin of her inner thigh.

Looking at her husband, Ruth said tauntingly, "He's got his hand inside my skirt, Raymond! His young eager hand is stroking my thigh, right above the top of my stocking..."

Beads of perspiration broke out on Raymond's brow.

"It feels fantastic, Mrs Howard," Lee assured. "You've got great legs."

"Call me Ruth if you like," she said, her face flushing again.

Lee looked her in the eye, then looked down at the tenting of her skirt as his hand caressed her inside it. He looked across at Raymond challengingly, holding his gaze, noting the tension in his face, but his words were spoken to her.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather call you Mrs Howard. It's a reminder of your married status. A reminder to us all of the illicitness of what we're doing."

Raymond also tried to compose himself, seeking to speak calmly and slowly.

"What we're doing IS illicit, Lee," he said. "My wife wants a good seeing-to from a stranger. She's hot for a young man. She wants to get fucked by a young man, but not behind my back. She wants me to be in the house while she does it..."

"Well, Raymond," Lee responded, "it would be a shame to disappoint her - and you, for that matter..."

At this point he rubbed the edge of his hand against her crotch. It was Ruth's turn to splutter her drink now. She smiled at the young man approvingly, raising and lowering her eyebrows in her surprise.

She leaned towards him.

"Tell him what you're doing, Lee. Tell my husband what you're doing..."

Lee looked at her, then at her husband as he began to stroke and rub her through her panties. He nestled the edge of his palm in the crack of her soft mound and rocked it gently from side to side.

"Sure, Mrs Howard," he replied confidently, watching Raymond dabbing his perspiring brow with his handkerchief. "My hand is right against your wife's pussy, Raymond. It's resting between her pussy lips and I'm rubbing it through her panties. She's a slut, Raymond, because even though you're here she's letting me do it. I reckon she's hot for it, Raymond. In fact... just let me see..."

Still watching her husband, Lee removed his hand and placed it on the table.

"Yes... yes, Raymond, she's moist down there already, and..." At this point he raised his fingertips to his face and nonchalantly rubbed his nose.

"Yes, Raymond, yes, I can SMELL her excitement..."

Lee placed his hand under the table again. He held Raymond's gaze with his again, watching his discomfort. Ruth gave a little gasp.

"He... he's got his hand inside my panties, Raymond - even though he's sitting opposite you! He's teasing my... my cunt lips right under your nose!"

Raymond dabbed his perspiring face with his handkerchief once more. He placed his mobile phone on the vacant seat next to him and pretended to look at the screen, but his head was angled under the overhang of the table instead. Sure enough, he could see the fabric of his wife's skirt ballooning over the movement of the young man's hand. The bulge in her skirt began to move rhythmically as he rubbed her.

Raymond was torn between anger and arousal at the young man's brazenness, and at the way that he was staring him out, taunting him with his actions and words as he fingered his wife, albeit undetected, in the busy pub. Raymond looked at Ruth's face, noting her intense expression.