The Let’s Pretend House

Next door, whilst the moon shines down full, Andreas is fucking Cheryl my wife. They are relatively discreet this evening, with only heartfelt moans and groans issuing from the master bedroom. Normally the bed head raps staccato on the adjoining wall. We have a guest tonight, Louise my sister. Sis isn’t stupid. She knows that Andreas is the ‘man of the house’. There are hints you see. For one thing wearing his and her identical Rolexes is a bit of a give away. I know that Cheryl works for Andreas, but bonuses of that sort are never so big, nor do they come as presents. Cheryl wears the Rolex, never the watch that I gave her at our wedding. Then there are the looks that my wife gives Andreas, her eyes seem as big and as misty as the full moon when the guy walks in the room. They are mixed doubles tennis players and of a good standard. But playing away at tournaments is playing away in more than one sense.

‘Christ Andre…!’ Cheryl’s voice is husky and urgent. She just about halts the exclamation of his name. Andreas has a more than ample cock. Her gives her orgasms easily, multiple orgasms. I lie there, the moon bathing my perspiring face. My hand is on my erect cock. I try not to masturbate but I always do. I am sure of it then, even the sound of their kissing will register down the corridor and inside the guest bedroom where Louise sleeps. Her sister in law is getting properly fucked, royally fucked by a man who knows how to do it. She is climaxing hard on the cock of a no nonsense German who doesn’t acknowledge the usual constraints of marriage. Andreas wouldn’t give a shit if our dad was alive, or that the old man distrusted all Germans. He would smile, that smile that says the woman chooses and Cheryl, well she chose him… didn’t she!

The bed creaks a little. They are locked together now, his cock splurging the generous loads of Teutonic seed inside her hot little womb. She always exposes her neck to him now, so that he can mark her if he wishes. Love bites are vulgar. Love bites are give aways…. Christ Cheryl!!!

‘I love you’ she purrs. She sounds so content. It is as if contentment can be wrapped up in a duvet and made the ultimate state in the world. She is rich b beyond the dreams of avarice and not simply because the man is wealthy with his own classic Porsche business, but because he has a cock that makes her feel woman. Right now, his semen is squirting inside her, filling her until the pleasure nearly drives her insane. Sometimes the sheets get torn, her nails ripping through the satin. I really need to toss. Christ I need to toss!!! But it’s not exactly etiquette, our discreet etiquette.

I only get to lick Cheryl’s faithless cunt out if I have jerked my load on top of his. I have to masturbate all over her bush. once I have wasted my semen, despised myself in that ritual of passage, then I can start to lick her. It’s the only ‘sex’ I’m allowed, to lick her pussy or her arse, wherever the rich thick semen runs. I’m only allowed that if I pretend that she isn’t his. I’m only allowed licks if I play ‘let’s pretend’ because to admit to the cuckolding, well that would be vulgar. It would be vulgar to admit that she cuckolds me with the German. Cheryl is a pillar of local society. She rides in the hunt, she runs charity socials and of course, she fucks, with him.

‘I’m just popping next door darling’ I hear her whisper. Cheryl, even a whisper on the still night air carries. It carries down the corridor. Your sister is already part of the Let’s Pretend house. Christ!!

The bedroom door opens almost silently and she is lit by the moon as she stands beside the bed. She is dressed in a pair of stockings, her suspender belt, a pearl choker about her throat and the Rolex. The moon catches the sticky semen already matted in her cunt hair, the glistening drops, glazed by the light of the moon. We don’t talk. There is mo need to talk and to do so anyway would be less than discreet. Instead, she extends her hand towards me and I kiss first the ring that he gave her and then the palm of her hand. It is as if she is feeding me, a wild animal domesticated. I lick the palm of her hand, smelling his cock on that even before I have nuzzled my nose through the bush of her cunt.

So much of this is ritual, perfectly replicated time and again. I watch her position herself, on the bed, her shapely legs spread and her manicured fingers reaching down to pull open her labia so that I can see just how full she is of it. I have to look at her cunt, as though in theory I could give her a length too. There is no chance of that, Andreas beat the realisation in to me. There was one night early on when I presumed too much. He dragged me away from her and hit me eight times. Each punch hurt like hell and I fell whimpering onto the carpet. I don’t presume any more. Cheryl is confident of that and bares her wet sex to taunt me.

Her cunt looks like an opened oyster, the wet meat exposed within. Fuck, the guy really fills her. His semen is oozing out of her a sticky white, glutinous sherbet that nourishes and thrills.

Cheryl must be a little anxious, us having a guest. She doesn’t want this to be indulged tonight. She won’t make noises for Andreas to signal how she is using me.

‘Jerk’ she whispers and rubs her gloopy clitty hood to indicate where the semen should fall close but ultimately pointless.

I start to rub my cock. A few moments ago it was bolt hard, but now it is semi flaccid. The thought of Louise saying something, a little word about what she really understands, it terrifies me! Cheryl would be so cross.

‘You’ll go without…… for a month’ Cheryl whispers. There is a hint of exasperation in her voice.

Fuck Andreas!! He has done this tonight, to humiliate, to test me.

‘Yes Miss’ I murmur.

I start to stroke. I start to picture his cock thumping into her, stretching it out so that it looks this wet, this lush, this extravagant. He has made her cunt perfect. He has given her a bitch cunt and it is as if that has infected her brain. The more he fucks her, the more relaxed she becomes humiliating me. ‘You’re useless Robin’ she says. I stroke a little harder and I wish that I was him. I wish that I could satisfy her, fucking her like a proper man. I wish that I put that designer timepiece on her wrist and gave her the classic Porsche 911 targa. Company car…. some company car!!!

The thought of Louise stirring, guessing, knowing, terrifies and stimulates me. It shouldn’t do. But my sister adores Andreas and she seemed so pleased to be out with them. Somehow, even at the fair this evening, I was there, just to hold handbags when the three of them went on rides. ‘You get motion sick huh?’ Louise had chirped. Deep down, near the stem of her brain I imagine Louise knowing and approving the cucking. Of course we don’t speak about such things though.

My balls pull. It’s as if I have twisted why testes. I know that feeling. My cock is thick and hard, but not so long and I’m about to become incontinent with admiration. He has fucked her cunt perfectly. He has made her a bitch. Her cunt is a source of power, I need it and badly.

My first stream of semen shoots way over her clitty and onto her tum my button. It’s like toothpaste dispensed by the fire service. I grunt. It’s not funny. It’s complete and abject shame.

‘Get rid off all of it, ‘ Cheryl sneers,  ‘it’s disgusting.’

More belches out and this time turning her cunt hair into a mangrove swamp of mingled semen. More jolts out and I can’t stop myself grunting. In this house, the Let’s Pretend house there is a honesty within in. I have no control, I have no discipline, I am weak and therefore I am worthless.

Cheryl looks bored. She doesn’t need nor want what I have shot. It is superfluous.

‘Clean my tummy’ she said when. No more would come. This moment is the pit of self worth. You cannot be less than when you are drained and when you are told that you have failed.

Semen has the consistency of warm snot. Sorry…. but it does. It is alkaline and it tastes bitter. I hate licking up my own semen, because of the shame of it, because I suppose we are designed not to taste nor savour our own seed. I ladle it up and she watches me. Tummy licking tickles. Licking of butt is sexy. There is a difference. When I have finished she checks that all is consumed with her finger and she gesture for me to lie on the bed so that she can ride why face.

I assume the position and she covers me. The oyster of her sex becomes a mask covering my nose and mouth, such has been his decisive cock work down there. Her cunt lips slide either side of the bridge of my nose and my mouth open his semen starts to dribble onto my tongue. This is ‘the feeding’. I’m not meant to tease her clitty, at least not yet. I am simply a receptacle. I swallow as best I can, the mess is flooding my mouth. Once she cums with him, hard, it makes the fluid an unctuous soup.

The first time that Cheryl did this to me she didn’t watch. Now she does, lifting a little so that I can breathe, but enjoying now the steady drain of spunk into my mouth. She settles again, rubbing a little, signalling that I AM to lick and caress. There, ever so quietly, she is enjoying her supremacy. Were Louise not a guest, she would moan loudly, ‘good boy’.

When at last Cheryl arises from my face, her cunt is wet but clean. My face is a sticky mess. The stud forced into my tongue glistens with more than my spittle. I show my tongue to her to signal that all has been swallowed. The moon shines down and outside along the corridor, Louise has paid a visit to the toilet. She must know. Dear God, she must know….


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I've been writing erotic literature for something over a year, certainly that with a cuckolding assertive woman twist. I've written a cuckolding novel and as at summer 2018 two collections of raunchy short stories that you'll find by internet searching 'Lutheran Maid'. Frankly I love intelligent cuckolding sex. But there's scope to explore more widely too!