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And Then There Were Three - 1
by Mr. Blue Skies (mr_blue_skies@hotmail.co.uk)

***

The title says it all! (MF, oral, cuck, ws)

***

Author Note: The first two parts are written in the 
form of a descriptive monologue to a cuckolded husband 
from the lover of his wife. It tells him how we have 
arrived at where we are. It contains some dialogue 
between the wife and lover. It is set in the UK, hence 
the English spelling. 

This story is intended to have a second, third and 
fourth part added, the third and fourth parts 
descriptive and both written in the first person, 
should there be some favourable responses from readers. 
The author is, Mr Blue Skies who can be reached at
(mr_blue_skies@hotmail.co.uk). I would be interested to 
hear about your views on this story and if you feel I 
should continue with part two.

Part one

Just some things you should know now that you've found 
out about us. I know that you were bothered about 
losing Paula but now you know that won't happen. 
Whatever has passed between her and me hasn't 
drastically altered her feelings for you; both of you 
have agreed that things will just be a little different 
from now on. That you want to carry on with what you 
have agreed says much about you Martin. Paula and I 
have talked at length about the situation and now we 
can tell you what you are going to do.

But first, let me tell you how we got to where we are 
now. It started innocently enough, it always does.

It was the on-line charity auction in the office 
intranet that did it. There were the usual stuff, cakes 
baked to some special 'granny's' recipe, a mornings 
housework, a genuine Indian meal prepared by building 
services guy, free riding lesson and so on. We could 
all bid on-line with an end-date in a week or so. It 
was a bit dull I thought, so I offered a flight in a 2-
seat light-aircraft 'in the vicinity of your house'; 
the plane would be piloted by me, hired from a local 
flying club. The auction really took off then (excuse 
the pun); the bidding went up very quickly with some 
staff bidding against each other several times. I 
occasionally logged on to see the progress; one time 
Paula's name popped up. I watched with added interest 
then. 

Somebody out-bid her and then another and then she bid 
again. Three were left in it and an idea formed. The 
flight was going to be photographed for the work 
magazine and also for pictures on the website. I wanted 
Paula to get the flight but I didn't want tons of 
people around at the time; also, she'd likely be out-
bid and I didn't want to take either of the two guys 
left in the race. So, calmly, I 'bumped' into her and 
told her to stop bidding, I'd take her anyway. She was 
delighted. 'When?', she asked. 'Anytime you like' I 
said, 'a weekend is better; bring your husband to take 
some pictures before we go'. She looked thoughtful for 
a second. Then, 'Saturday'? 'It's a deal' I said, 'see 
you at the local airfield at 9am. Wear trousers, lace-
up shoes and bring a jacket and sunglasses.

I was there at 8.30, plane ready and me waiting by it. 
Her car entered the car-park at her usual rate (fast) 
and I was pleased to se that she was alone. Great, no 
husband! She got out of the car. When I said trousers, 
I'd meant just that; I hadn't envisaged a pair of jeans 
that looked as if they'd been sprayed on. Boy did she 
look good; they fitted so closely, following every 
contour of her legs and crotch; the outline of her 
pussy lips clearly defined. I tried not to look (she 
told me later that I'd failed miserably). 'No husband? 
I enquired. 'No', she said, giving no further 
explanation. I showed her around the aircraft and 
helped her into the small cockpit. As I walked around 
to the other side I noticed two pilot colleagues 
watching; out of Paula's sight, I grinned at them and 
silently mouthed, 'fuck off'. They waved back, 'Dirty, 
filthy, lecherous, lucky bastard', one softly called. I 
climbed in.

Getting her belted in was a nice experience as I 
adjusted the straps; she made it comfortable over her 
breasts. I glanced briefly at them; lovely. I fired up 
the engine, went through all the safety checks, 
explaining what I was doing as I did so. She looked 
lovely with the headset on and sunglasses. I called the 
tower and taxied around to the runway. I checked that 
she still wanted to go and she said she most certainly 
did. 

I radioed the tower and said I was ready for departure. 
I received clearance and entered the runway. With a 
glance at Paula I gave it full power and we tore down 
the runway, lifting off quite soon. A quick glance 
indicated that Paula was OK, she was grinning from ear 
to ear. I turned at 1000 feet and headed for the Welsh 
hills. Paula was entranced at the wildness and the 
view; it was a perfect day. She wore the expression of 
an excited child as we levelled at 4000 feet and 
cruised around as I pointed out things on the ground, 
an ancient castle, a stone circle and a hot-air balloon 
which we circled at a safe distance. The crew waved and 
Paula waved back. 

I asked her if she was enjoying it. She put her hand on 
my arm and said she was; she left her hand there for 
some times and then, just so naturally, dropped it to 
my upper leg and gently moved her hand back and forth. 
Bloody difficult flying with a hard-on I tell you. I 
headed back to the field and gave her the controls; 
nervous at first she later relaxed and I got her to 
turn it and hold it level and in a straight line. I 
took over again as we neared the airfield and she put 
her hand lightly back on my leg; she was apprehensive 
as I approached for landing as she said the runway 
looked too small; 'It's OK', I said, 'it gets bigger 
the nearer you are'. 

She giggled 'So I see'. I frowned and then realised. My 
hard-on was evident. I blushed and then moved her hand; 
'I need to concentrate on this bit' I said. I called 
the airfield and in turn was cleared to land. She went 
quiet as we approached and then just said 'Wow' as we 
touched down. I taxied to the club and shut the plane 
down. I showed her how to undo the safety harness by 
undoing mine. She undid hers and in one movement leaned 
over and kissed be full on the mouth. 'Thank you', she 
said, 'that was the most marvellous experience' I 
looked at her in wonderment and said nothing; I was 
dumbstruck. 

I opened the door and got out, went round and opened 
her door and helped her out. The two guys who had 
watched us go were waiting already; they'd been 
listening on the radio and heard me call on the way in. 
One of them, one of those good looking bastards that 
all us men hate said, 'Do I get a kiss like that if I 
take you flying?' Paula stopped, looked him straight in 
the eye, 'No', she said, and walked on. I grinned at 
his disappointment and said nothing. Back at her car, I 
asked if she'd like a drink before going home. 'I 
thought you'd never ask', she said, 'I'll follow you in 
my car'.

I drove to a riverside pub and we had a lovely hour 
which passed all too quickly. As we left the pub 
garden, she suggested a short walk along the river 
bank; there was an obvious path so we followed it, 
talking about the flight as we walked. I can't remember 
what I said exactly, but it prompted Paula to turn 
round and dig me in the ribs. I caught her wrist, she 
turned towards me and we went straight into a full 
blown kiss. She kisses so well as you know. I was 
staggered at the intensity of it, her tongue in my 
mouth and her body pressed against mine. I rapidly 
became hard which she must have felt as she gave a 
short gasp as we kissed. I felt her gently, but quite 
deliberately, press her pubis into me. There was only 
one place this was going from here Martin.

We broke apart and looked at each other. We didn't say 
anything, just turned around and walked back to my car, 
hand in hand. When she got into her car, I asked her if 
we could get some time together. From our 
conversations, she knew that I often went out for a day 
on my own at weekends or that my wife regularly visited 
her mother, sometimes staying overnight. I also knew 
that you sometimes travelled with your work. She said 
she'd think about it; I thought then that she was 
having second thoughts already so didn't push things. I 
was a surprise therefore the following Monday, that she 
said that she was taking the Wednesday off and that you 
were going away that day and would be away 
overnight….and could we meet? Would I like to call 
round for coffee around lunch-time? Yes to both I said.

I'll never forget that Wednesday afternoon in your bed 
Martin. We never got around to the coffee. At first we 
fucked like it was going out of fashion, later we made 
love and talked.

I boldly drew up my car into your drive: when I got 
out, I took my briefcase with me, looking like some 
respectable business man come to talk insurance or 
whatever. Paula opened the door before I reached it and 
I entered your house. I turned around as she shut the 
door and dropped the latch; she looked stunning Martin. 
She'd put up her hair and had on a low-cut top just 
showing the swell of her breasts. What took my breath 
away however was the skirt she was wearing: it was 
impossibly short but she wore it so well and moved no 
naturally, so sure was she about herself. 

I went through into the sitting room, I didn't sit, 
just stood there looking at her. She asked me if I'd 
like coffee and I slowly shook my head as I looked into 
her eyes. 'Good', she said and moved towards me and 
kissed me full on the mouth. It wasn't me that started 
the running Martin, it was your wife. She pressed 
against me as she kissed me; pulling away she took my 
hand, turned and walked me into the hall and to the 
foot of your stairs.

I was shaking either through excitement or nervousness, 
I don't know. She took the first step and I followed 
her up, my eyes on her incredible legs and bottom 
moving under her skirt. At the top of the stairs she 
turned left and led me into your bedroom. The room was 
bathed in sunlight filtering through the already drawn 
curtains; the thin duvet was pulled back over the 
sheets that you had vacated earlier that morning. Your 
wife turned around to face me, 'I haven't done this 
before,' she said, and went to say more but I put the 
tip of my finger to her lips to silence her. I didn't 
want her going all guilty on me right now. 

She paused, opened her mouth slightly, sucked in my 
finger and gently nipped it between her teeth. I moved 
towards her and went straight for her mouth, she let go 
of my finger a fraction before our lips met; we kissed 
without any finesse, hard with searching tongues, teeth 
on lips and grinding into each other. I roughly pulled 
off the clip holding her hair up and it fell free 
around her face. It was wild, raw passion Martin. 

We broke apart and your wife stepped back; as she 
looked me straight in the eyes, she crossed her arms as 
she gripped the hem of her top and in one fluid 
movement pulled it over her head. I was staggered, she 
stood looking at me as I looked back at Paula, her 
breasts free and wearing just that short skirt. She is 
beautiful Martin, you and I are both lucky men (and so 
are a couple of others before she married you she since 
told me). I pulled my shirt over my head and we 
embraced and kissed again as she undid the belt of my 
trousers; I pulled away, kicked off my shoes and pulled 
my trousers off, taking my socks with them. 

I stood there in my tight briefs with a seemingly huge 
erection and precum leaking through. Your wife gazed at 
my evident arousal; as she did so, she undid the clasp 
at the side of her skirt, let it fall to the floor and 
stepped out of it. I looked at her in awe. Naked, her 
figure is perfect; she wore the briefest of thongs, the 
deep claret coloured one you bought for her, the 
triangular front piece evidently wet.

She moved backwards to the edge of your bed and sat 
down, pulled herself fully onto it and then lifting 
herself slightly, pulled down her thong and lifted her 
legs as she drew it off. She lay back fully and 
slightly parted her legs to expose the most perfect 
slit surrounded by neatly trimmed hair. Still standing, 
I pulled off my briefs and my hard cock sprang clear. 
Paula looked at it and then me; I moved to the bed and 
went to lie beside her but she pulled me on top of her. 
Then all hell broke loose. We kissed, bit sucked at 
each other her breasts were hard on by chest and she 
went mad when I kissed them, gasped when I sucked them 
and wild when I gently nipped each nipple in turn 
between my lips.

Her hand went down and grasped my solid prick (cock was 
too polite a term for this great leaking shaft) as I 
felt down to her slit; it is lovely and with smooth 
edges, as you know Martin, when I thrust a finger 
inside it was like opening a floodgate. Love juice 
poured from her; I went to go down on her but she 
grabbed my hair. 'Please', she whispered, 'just fuck me 
David, please'. I needed no further bidding Martin; as 
I moved to enter her she grabbed my prick and slid 
herself onto it in great haste. 

I followed with a thrust and she gasped, so loudly I 
thought I'd hurt her and went to withdraw. 'It's all 
right' she breathed, 'keep going'. And we did Martin, 
we fucked, there is no other word for it. Your wife met 
every thrust of mine, she grunted at each thrust, 
digging her nails into my back, biting my lip, 
repeating over and over again, 'fuck, fuck, fuck…' At 
one point her flailing arms knocked a photo frame off 
the table next to your side of the bed. It landed face 
up on the bed and I had the odd experience of fucking 
your wife whilst looking of a picture of you and her on 
your wedding day. Bizarre! 

I couldn't keep this pace for long; I tried to stop for 
a while but she kept saying 'No' every time I slowed; 
eventually my control fell away and I knew I was going 
to cum very soon. I lunged deeper and fiercely into her 
and she started to raise her voice as she repeated over 
and over again, 'Harder, harder, harder….'; I put my 
hand over here mouth as I began to cum. I rammed my 
prick into her as hard and as deep as I could, she bit 
my hand and groaned. I came what felt for ages; it felt 
that good it almost hurt. I felt it rush through my 
prick and release into her. From walking into your 
house to now must have taken place over less than 
fifteen minutes. Your wife is a marvellous fuck Martin.

My erection faded away after a while and I relaxed and 
started to breathe more regularly. I looked down on her 
face, her lips were swollen from rough kissing and I 
noticed her eyes were moist. I went to speak but she 
said, 'Don't say anything' and the words died on my 
lips. As we lay quietly, my cock softened and started 
to move out of her: as it did so she gripped it with 
her vaginal muscles, a great feeling which I thought 
only my wife could do. I smiled down at her and 
withdrew my softened cock and moved down her body. 
'Where are you going'? she asked; 'I have some 
unfinished business to attend to', I said softly and 
carried on down, kissing and sucking her breasts on the 
way down. She half-heartedly gripped my hair and softly 
said 'No', but it had no conviction so I carried on 
down with my tongue. 

As I approached her now swollen lips she raised her 
hips slightly, offering up her lovely slit, now half 
open. A wonderful musky scent arose from her, a mixture 
of her natural womanhood, her love juices and my cum; 
it was wonderful. I found her slit with my tongue and 
moved up to her slightly hidden clitoris. When I 
tickled it lightly with my tongue, she sighed and 
pushed herself into my face; I drew back slightly and 
moved down, she lowered her hips to maintain contact 
with my tongue and I kept going down until her gorgeous 
arse was back on the bed. Your bed sheet was soaked. 

I kept up the stimulation of her clitoris, listening 
for signs of her enjoyment, they came soon enough, and 
to my eternal delight, so did she. And boy, did she let 
me know it was coming. First a great sigh, followed by 
a 'Fucking hell', then a rush of fluid, a deep moan and 
then an almighty shudder and a flood of liquid filled 
my mouth. She grabbed my hand and pushed it down, 
'fingers', I heard her say, 'fingers', she said again. 
I thrust two fingers roughly inside her and she clamped 
down on them instantly. 

I vigorously moved them inside her as she thrust 
herself onto them and thrashed around as each wave 
moved through her. Eventually she quietened down and I 
stopped moving my fingers. When she was still I gently 
removed my fingers; as I did so, she opened her eyes 
and looked at me hazily. She told me that was the first 
time it had happened to her for over two years. By my 
reckoning, that meant that you hadn't given her an 
orgasm since you married her Martin. Also, over two 
years ago meant that somebody had before you married 
her, when you knew her. I said nothing.

We lay together for a while, saying nothing, she with 
her head on my shoulder, occasionally drifting off and 
coming back again. I looked down on her beautiful face 
and thought what a lucky man I was that afternoon. I 
leant over and kissed her softly and she stirred and 
opened her mouth and pushed her tongue into mine. I 
returned her kiss and then moved to her neck (she likes 
that doesn't she Martin?) and then her breasts. She 
started to react and, to my surprise, so did I. We made 
love then in the true sense of the term. We smiled, we 
moved together, talked, laughed and all the time me 
moving in and out of your wife. She told me I was 
wonderful, a great lover, marvellous to be in bed with 
and how much she loved my 'huge prick' she called it. 

This surprised me somewhat as I don't consider my self 
huge: my wife says my cock is lovely and thick, but not 
huge. Anyway, it did my ego a world of good. Fancy 
bedding a beautiful and passionate woman and being told 
your prick is huge as you make love with her! We went 
on for quite some time, stopping if I threatened to 
cum. 

After what seemed like a great while, I felt that my 
balls were going to explode. I stepped up the pace and 
when I didn't slow down I saw in her face that she knew 
I was going to cum soon. As I drove more forcefully 
into her she began to meet my thrusts. As I began to 
cum, she looked me in the eyes and simply said. 'Fill 
me with your cum David'. I needed no second bidding 
Martin, ramming deeply into your wife and staying deep 
as I emptied into her.

After some minutes I moved from her and lay beside her. 
She curled up beside me and told me again what a good 
lover I was. She went silent for a while and then 
saying that she didn't want to say too much out of 
loyalty to you (strange that, after what we had just 
been doing) but wanted to say something. It was then 
she told me about you and your hang-up over your small 
penis; she said there were other things as well which 
she didn't want to go into. Evidently your penis is 
'small' whatever 'small' means; being a man I just had 
to ask 'in comparison to mine for example'.

She held up her hand with thumb a finger about three 
inches apart. In response, I pulled the duvet back and 
pointed out that was about the same as my now flaccid 
penis. She then said that that is the size of your 
penis when hard. That explains the flattering comments 
about my size, I thought. I made a crude comment about 
it's not the size that matters but what you do with it, 
which I instantly regretted as a look of pain flashed 
across her face. She said she didn't have a hang-up 
about it, but you most definitely do Martin. She says 
it sometimes borders on an obsession and seldom does a 
day go by without you mentioning it. 

I wanted to ask (pry) as to how sex was with you Martin 
but I didn't have the nerve. You are getting into bed 
every night with a woman who has the looks most women 
would kill for. It couldn't be a matter of not wanting 
you, and you clearly do get hard but not hugely so. Why 
is she telling me this I asked myself? I listened for a 
while and have to say got a voyeurs thrill out of 
hearing the intimate details of your love life. As we 
lay there talking about your penis, your wife started 
to stroke mine which felt good. My cock stirred, 
becoming full but not hard. It felt good and I relaxed, 
enjoying the feeling.

Paula said she felt better for talking and I wondered 
if she'd off-loaded some guilt. We lay there, her 
stroking my full cock and me running my fingers through 
her hair. Almost imperceptibly she stirred and kissed 
my shoulder and then down to my nipples; how did she 
know I liked that? She still had hold of my cock as she 
sucked them and tickled them with her tongue. 
Effortlessly, she moved down and in one fluid movement 
sucked my cock into her warm mouth. I was stunned at 
the way in which she did it, that she did it at all, 
and that my cock sprang into life for the third time 
that afternoon.

She slowly sucked my cock to a respectable erection; 
she ran her tongue along its underneath and scratched 
it lightly with her teeth, which I found a real turn-
on. Every now and then she plunged her mouth all the 
way down several times. It is a wonderful feeling as 
you know. She kept this going for several minutes and I 
felt myself approaching the edge; I just said her name, 
to warn her of my cumming, but she ignored it and kept 
going. My prick exploded, the first jet of cum went 
over the side of her face and into her hair; she deftly 
plunged her mouth fully over my prick. It has been my 
most intense cum ever Martin; I thought it wouldn't 
stop, I almost felt faint as my heart raced. It was 
absolutely wonderful.

When I quietened down she drew my cock from her mouth 
and moved up towards me. I sensed what she was going to 
do and I wasn't wrong; she kissed me full on the mouth, 
pushing my lips apart with her tongue, allowing a flood 
of my cum from her mouth into mine. We kissed 
passionately passing my cum between us, making our lips 
slippery; I licked it from her face and passed it to 
her. She said what wonderful tasting cum I had.

After a while we lay together and talked about not 
much. I said that I should go. Paula asked if we could 
be like this again soon. I was delighted and said we 
most certainly could. She suggested that sometimes I 
could come to your house and use your bed. I suggested 
that with the regular work journeys I did and the team-
building events that the company felt it had to do from 
time to time, that we could both get away on the 
pretext of such an event. You never questioned them and 
neither did my wife. If we were discreet at work we 
felt secure that nobody would think anything untoward, 
for the obvious reason I'll tell you in a moment.

Before I went to go, she offered me a shower, knowing 
it would be difficult to go home with my thighs and 
pubic hair plastered in her love juices and my cum. So 
we showered (not keen on your choice of shower-gel by 
the way Martin, and neither is Paula, you'll need to 
change it for us). As we dried each other, she said 
that she'd love to bed me straight after I'd been with 
my wife. I was dumbstruck by this, and even more 
dumbstruck by my reply; 'I'd like to be with you soon 
after you've been bedded by Martin' I said. 'I can try' 
she said, and that was all.

I dressed and we kissed good-bye. I left your house 
with my briefcase looking like a typical business man. 
She waved me good-bye and shut the door as I reversed 
into the road. On the way home I pulled into one of 
those car parks by a viewpoint which are quite common 
around the area, I wanted time to compose myself before 
walking through my own door and seeing my wife. I 
couldn't believe my luck Martin, to have had such a 
wonderful time with a beautiful woman who clearly 
wanted me when she could have chosen anyone she 
wanted... and a woman who is twenty years younger than 
me at that.

To be continued...

*The author is, Mr Blue Skies 
(mr_blue_skies@hotmail.co.uk) I would be interested to 
hear about your views on this story and if you feel I 
should continue with part two.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 42