Date: Mon, 12 Sep 2022 14:13:17 +0100
From: Christopher Hudson <christopherhudson1970@gmail.com>
Subject: The Road Less Travelled

I TOOK THE ROAD LESS TRAVELLED
BOOK ONE: DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
by
Chris Hudson

CHAPTER ONE

	It came like a bolt out of the blue. Something I hadn't been
expecting for one second.

	But it came, nonetheless.

	And to be honest, being told by my husband of three years that he
wanted a divorce was just so unexpected that I thought he was joking.

	Seriously, I really thought he was pulling my leg.

	After all, we were so happy together. Loved each other more than
either of us had loved anyone else we'd ever known. Possibly more than
either of us would ever love anyone!

	So, why did he ask me?

	Maybe it'll help if I tell you a little bit about the two of us.

	My name's Adam. I'm 34 years old, and I think I'm a fairly decent
looking guy. Dark hair, dark eyes, bit of stubble, decent physique, own
teeth, etc. Probably a bit of an otter, if you're into those kinds of
classifications. But I admit I'm not the most exciting person at any party
-- never have been, never will. Let's face it, what accountant is?

	Callum's my hubby -- though everyone calls him Cal. He's a bit
younger than me, at 28, and if anything is the better looking one. Short
dark hair, blue eyes, clean shaven, toned body; and a bit of a
grease-monkey, which I've always been attracted to. Honestly, Cal loves
nothing better than being under the bonnet of a car.

	Well, almost nothing better!

We'd met through mutual friends; and to be honest the first couple of years
were good. So good in fact that I soon proposed to him -- even though I had
an inkling back then that he was not the marrying type. That said, he
agreed. Arguably because I had a very good job and would keep him in the
manner to which he had quickly become accustomed. But hey, I wasn't about
to complain. I loved the fellow, and that was all there was to it.

Deep down I guess I knew that Cal needed something more.

A bit of excitement. The kind that married life was never going to provide.

Even so, I was taken completely aback when he dropped the bombshell. In
fact, I don't mind admitting that I cried, which I think shocked Cal a
little. It probably shocked me if truth be told. I'd always thought I was a
bit of a tougher cookie than that, but it just goes to show you how wrong
you can be about yourself.

Anyhow, we ended up having a very long, deep, and meaningful conversation
about where we were in life, what we wanted, and what we could do to try
and rescue something from our relationship. If, indeed, there was anything
to salvage.

"Can't we try to make a go of things?" I asked as we sat on the sofa
together in our Tower Bridge Road apartment, just south of the Thames. "It
seems stupid to throw in the towel so easily, don't you think?"

"Adam," he began, "it's not a question of us trying to make a go of
things. We've been doing that for three fucking years. It's just I need --
well, something more than all of this. Working all day, coming home, having
my tea, going to bed, and having the same old fuck in exactly the same
position, then falling to sleep and getting up to do it all over
again. It's boring. What's more, I think you deserve better as well ..."

"What if I don't think I deserve better?" I insisted.

"But you do!" he urged.

I sighed; fighting hard to hold back the tears. "What if we go and see a
counsellor? Would you at least be open to giving that a try?"

Cal looked exasperated. "Do you really think that's going to help?" he
quipped.

"Do you love me?" I demanded.

He nodded his head -- and I believe he genuinely meant it. "You know I love
you," he insisted. "I just don't want to end up hating you ..."

"I don't want that to happen either," I agreed.

He gave a deep sigh. "Okay," said he. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

Given the fact that he'd only just dropped the bombshell, it won't surprise
you that the answer to that question was a very definite no. That said, we
did have a couple of friends who had turned their marriage around thanks to
the help of a relationship coach; and suffice it to say I was soon
messaging them to see if they could give me the counsellor's contact
details.

I didn't have long to wait. Within five minutes I had our mate, Steve, on
the phone; and it goes without saying that he was a bit surprised to hear
that we were apparently having marital problems. Even more surprised than I
was!

"Yes," he explained, "we saw a guy by the name of Fredrick. Seriously, he
was great. I mean I have to be straight up with you now, mate, his methods
aren't always the most conventional; but honestly, Daniel and I have never
once looked back. It'll be interesting to see how you and Cal get on --
assuming you go through with it, that is ..."

"Oh, I don't think I've got much choice, mate," I replied. "Cal's adamant
that something's got to change. I suspect it might be the age difference
that's the issue -- him being that bit younger and all that ..."

"Well, arguably I had the same problem. You reckon he wants to sow his wild
oats?" Steve teased. "Is that what it's about?"

I sighed. I didn't like to think that, but I'd be lying if I said that I
didn't have my suspicions. "Well, I guess I shall soon find out," I
acknowledged.

"Would you be okay with that? If that's what it is?"

I seriously didn't know what to say. I don't think I'd ever once thought
about the idea of us having anything other than a totally monogamous
relationship, and up until about an hour ago there hadn't been a problem as
far as I was concerned. So, I basically fluffed a non-committed response,
hoping perhaps that Steve had read all the signals wrong and that the issue
in question was way more cerebral in nature than anything he was
suggesting.

Even though I knew deep down that he was right.

Anyway, the good news was that Fredrick's waiting list turned out to be
nowhere near as lengthy as might have been the case -- three weeks in
fact. Enough time to prepare ourselves, without it becoming a burdensome
worry on our minds.

In the meantime, I have to confess that there was a part of me that really
wanted to confront Cal on the issue that Steve had raised; but in the end I
wisely resisted. Best to wait for arbitration before we headed over that
particular bridge.

Fredrick's office was located in Shoreditch -- not far from where we lived
-- and I'd deliberately made the appointment in the late afternoon so as
not to inconvenience Cal's working day too greatly. Even so, there was no
denying that the fellow wreaked of grease and sweat when we met outside,
just before half-four; and I seriously wondered what the counsellor was
going to make of his blue-collared appearance. I mean for me it wasn't a
problem -- the guy was never fucking sexier than just before a shower! But
what Fredrick was gonna make of his attire was a completely different
matter entirely.

I needn't have concerned myself. For one thing, Fredrick never appeared to
bat so much as an eyelid at Cal's well-worked appearance. For another, the
fellow himself was more than enough of a distraction to avert any concern I
might have had about my husband looked. An imposing 6'1" forty-something
daddy, whose quiet confidence literally oozed from every pore.

"So," he began, having taken a position on a seat between us and made our
introductions, "what exactly brings you two guys here today? I take it
you're married ...?"

"Yes," I explained, trying hard not to be distracted by the fellow's good
looks, "but just recently Cal here said he wanted a divorce ..."

"Was that a surprise?"

"A complete surprise," I confessed. "Seriously, I thought we were very
happy ..."

"We are very happy," Cal interjected. "Perhaps too happy ..."

"Too happy?" Fredrick cut in.

My husband took a sharp intake of air. "We're getting boring. I need
something more to life."

The counsellor demanded an explanation.

Cal seemed a tiny bit reticent. "I just think we could spice things up more
..." he admitted.

"You don't think that can be achieved inside a marriage?" asked Fredrick.

My husband shook his head.

"I suppose a great deal depends on what you mean by spicing things up, of
course," the counsellor admitted. "But you might be surprised ..."

He turned his attention to me. "So, what are your thoughts?" he quipped.

I honestly didn't know what to say. "Well, like you said, it depends on
what we're talking about here. I love Cal very much, and I'm willing to try
anything to save our marriage ..."

Fredrick gave a wry smile. "Anything?" he quipped.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, within reason ..."

The fellow turned his attention back to my hubby. "How long have you felt
this way?" he enquired.

"Well, for a little while," Cal admitted.

"And if you could spice things up, what would have in mind exactly ...?"

Again, my husband appeared a little reserved -- as if holding back from
admitting the truth. "I don't know," he sighed, "I'd just like to try
something different ..."

There was a moment or two of awkward silence, as Fredrick shuffled the
notes on his lap. "Look," he said at last, "this is really quite
normal. How long have you two guys been married?"

"Three years," I confirmed.

Fredrick turned to Cal. "Lots of married guys feel the way you feel. It
doesn't mean you have to just throw it all away at the first
opportunity. Especially if you communicate how you both feel ..."

At which point he began something of a monologue on the importance of
keeping all communication lines open within a partnership.

"The most successful marriages are those that are based on frankness and
honesty," he concluded. "Nothing should be undiscussed. Nothing taboo. That
way you both discover where your limits are, and both find out what they
can or cannot live with. And believe me, some people are very surprised by
what they discover about both themselves and their partners."

I nodded my head sagaciously, but to be honest I wasn't exactly sure what
he meant by that final statement. It seemed provocative. As if he was
making a lewd suggestion.

"So, what's your sex life like?" he suddenly enquired, glancing between us
like an umpire at a tennis match.

Neither of us rushed to answer.

"I know it's not the place of me to make suggestions at this point," he
finally butted in, "but I reckon I could put my mortgage on it being a bit
on the stale side. Is that right?"

Cal eagerly nodded his head in agreement.

"Tell me, Cal. And remember what I said, frankness and honesty produce the
most successful marriages. Does Adam here satisfy you? Sexually, that is
..."

I'm not exactly which one of us blushed the most. This was not quite how
I'd expected this meeting to go.

"Well ..." my husband finally confessed, trying his very best to avoid
eye-contact with me, "I wouldn't say he doesn't satisfy me exactly ..."

"But you'd like to enjoy other guys ...?" Fredrick suggested.

"Hold on!" I interjected, feeling that our counsellor had maybe overstepped
the mark. I mean I know Steve had said he was a bit unconventional, but I
really didn't like the idea of the fellow putting ideas into Cal's head.

Though of course I knew deep down that they were probably ideas that were
already there.

"Sorry, Adam," he apologised, "I wasn't trying to cause a problem. It's
just --"

"Yes!" Cal suddenly admitted, bringing Fredrick to a sudden halt.

"Yes?" the counsellor quipped.

Cal finally gave a nervous glance in my direction. "Yes," he repeated. "I'd
like to enjoy other guys. From time to time ..." he added. As if that made
his confession a little more acceptable.

There were a few moments of silence as the revelation sank in.

"And what do you think to that, Adam?" Fredrick now demanded, firing his
gaze in my direction.

Again, I was lost for words. "Well -- I'm not exactly sure ..." I finally
muttered.

"It's a lot to take in, I know," the host remarked. "Cal isn't saying he
doesn't love you. He isn't saying that he wants to hurt you. He's just
saying he misses the excitement of being with someone else. The excitement
I'm sure he felt when he first met you."

Yes, I could see that. I could also see it was a very slippery slope we
were talking about. We were a married couple, after all, and to me that
meant being with him and him alone.

But clearly that was not how Cal saw things.

"Look," Fredrick continued, clearly noting that the room had descended into
a somewhat embarrassed silence, "what did I say earlier? Communication is
key. Seriously, if you two want to make your marriage work then you have to
keep talking to each other -- it's as simple as that. And it may be that
you talk and talk and talk, and decide that it is all over. But then again
it may be that you still have much more in common than you think.

"So, I want you to keep those communication channels open. Is that agreed
...?"

We both shot glances at each other; then slowly nodded our heads.

"I also have a task for you both between now and our next appointment --
assuming you both want another appointment that is ...?"

Again, we both showed our agreement -- which to me was a major thing. After
all, if nothing else it told me that Cal still thought there was something
still between us still worth fighting for.

"I would like you both to set aside an evening to visit a gay swingers club
in Newington --"

"A gay swingers club?!" I barked, indignant at the very idea. "You are
kidding me? Are you trying to fucking encourage him or something?!"

Fredrick remained the very paragon of cool. "I said I wanted you to visit
it. As a voyeur. I didn't say I wanted you to join in.

"Unless, of course," he continued, flicking a glance at Cal, "you want to
..."

But I was seriously incandescent at the very notion of visiting such a
place as a married guy. Call me old-fashioned, but there was no way I was
going to some seedy nightclub to see my husband getting picked up by some
undeserving slut. No fucking way at all!

A point that I think I managed to get across quite forcibly.

Yet for all my ire, Fredrick remained amazingly relaxed. Whilst Cal, for
his part, sank into his seat with pained embarrassment.

"If you're serious about saving your marriage, Adam," the mediator
observed, "you'll think carefully about this task. Seriously, I'm not
suggesting that you two go off on a shag-fest. As appealing as that may be
to certain people ..." he added, giving Cal the eye once again.

"No, I'm saying that you should give yourself the chance to view all your
options. If you like, agree some strict rules before you go. Tell each
other what you can and cannot do. Ground rules are always critically
important in any long term relationship, after all. But as I've said on
countless occasions during this meeting, the most important thing of all is
that you are completely transparent with each other. No lies. No
secrets. Just open communication between both parties.

"Parties that I am sure love each other very, very much," he added, again
glancing between the pair of us.

But right at that moment -- as Cal and I left together -- I still wasn't
sure. Going along with this rather unconventional approach to wedded bliss
was not something that I felt comfortable with. There were too many unknown
factors and risks. And given that I hadn't had a clue that there was a
problem with our relationship prior to a couple of weeks ago, I got the
distinct impression in my mind that we were using a sledgehammer to crack a
nut.

Nevertheless, it was clear that for Cal at least there was an issue. He
wasn' enjoying the marital bliss that I imagined. As such, maybe Fredrick
was right. Maybe it was time to take drastic action and to see what could
be done to salvage our relationship.

Yet I already knew that this wasn't going to be easy. And as Fredrick
himself suggested should be the case, I was determined that there were
going to be very clear rules to ensure that we didn't fall into what I
genuinely believed could quickly become an all-consuming black hole of
self-induced misery.

How long I could maintain that, however, remained very much to be seen.





CHAPTER TWO



"Do you genuinely think this is a good idea?" I demanded of Cal, as we
stepped away from Fredrick's office -- furnished with a business card for
the recommended club that would allow us one free entry. "Going off to some
grubby little joint to see a load of complete strangers copping off with
one another?"

Cal gave a thoughtful grimace. "Can it do any harm?" he suggested. "I mean
I'm not being funny, Ad, but a couple of weeks ago I told you I wanted a
divorce. Surely this is worth a try if you're as keen to save our marriage
as say you are?"

True, he had a point; but I couldn't help feeling that going along with
Fredrick's plan was likely to end badly. At least for me. After all, I
seemed to have the most to lose in all of this. Cal had clearly decided to
capitulate some time ago, so it was all win-win for him. In contrast, I
couldn't quite see what I was going to get out of all this.

"Look," my husband continued, as we walked along side-by-side, "it's like
that guy said. The important thing is that we keep communicating. Talking
of which, I think I need to apologise for not speaking to you about the way
I felt before now. I've just let it bottle up inside me, which looking back
was not really the sensible thing to do. I should've told you how I was
feeling ..."

I nodded my head, impressed that he was suddenly taking the counsellor's
words so much to heart. If truth be known, Cal had never been the greatest
talker -- that had always been my role, and in many ways I'd always found
it frustrating at times. As such, I was already beginning to think that
visiting Fredrick was money well spent. Why, it seemed to give us hope if
nothing else.

A point that I was only too willing to share with my husband there and
then.

"I really do hope that we can make this work, Ad," he suddenly declared,
stopping in his tracks, and turning to face me -- completely ignoring those
trying to get passed us along the pavement. "I know I was a bit off with
you when you suggested going to see Fredrick, but I honestly think that it
could be one of the best decisions we've ever made."

I couldn't help but blush at such praise. Geez, it was so unlike Cal -- a
man who usually kept such private thoughts to himself.

"I'm glad you think so," I confessed. "Although, if we're being totally and
utterly honest with each other, I'm not at all sure that going to this club
is really the thing we should be doing."

Cal glanced at the card in his hand. "Oscar's," he read. "Gay Gentleman's
Club. Actually, that kind of dandy place sounds more like your kind of
thing than mine ..."

He was probably right. All the same, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't
have major reservations at the prospect, particularly given that it was
only very recently that I'd realised that there was any issue between Cal
and myself at all. Unfortunately, however, I was beginning to understand
that there wasn't any choice in the matter. Not if I wanted to have any
hope of saving our relationship.

"Okay," I conceded, as we started to stroll together down the street again,
"I'm willing to give it a try -- but it's as Fredrick said, we have to have
some very firm ground rules ..."

"Like not fucking the first person we meet?" Cal teased.

I admit I was taken a little aback by his candour. "Well, yes ..." I
stuttered.

There was a moment of silence between us. Filled only by the hustle and
bustle of an ordinary late spring tea-time in downtown London.

"Adam?" Cal finally declared. "I think you need to realise that I am going
to fuck other guys. Whether you like it or not ..."

I could hardly believe my ears. I mean, there's honesty ... and there's
honesty!!

"I see ..." I declared. It was literally about as much of a response as I
could muster.

"I mean I could have just done things behind your back," he explained. "We
know lots of guys like that, after all. But I didn't want to do that to
you. Which is why I asked for a divorce. I thought it was -- well, the more
decent thing to do. And you deserve it, Ad. You deserve the more decent
thing because you're a decent guy.

"And it's not that you don't satisfy me," he continued. "Not at all. I love
being with you, and if I'm absolutely honest I don't want a divorce. It was
just the only thing I could think of to get us out of this rut. But I do
want to enjoy other guys, yes. I mean I think you've known I enjoy cock
from the start. There, I've said it. I enjoy cock and I don't think I
should be ashamed of that fact. And I hope that you can understand, and
that you want to come on this journey with me."

To be perfectly frank I'm not exactly sure what surprised me most. The
content of Cal's admission. Or the fact that he'd said all this whilst
walking down Commercial Street, heading towards Aldgate East tube station.

And whilst I can't say I liked everything he said, I did have to give him
credit for saying it. Seriously, even I could appreciate that it took some
bottle. More courage than I'd probably have ever been able to rally, that's
for sure.

"Come on," I sighed, grabbing hold of his hand, and squeezing it tight,
"let's head home ..."

"You're not angry?" Cal exclaimed, evidently a little surprised by my
non-reaction.

It was my turn to stop now, turning him to look him in the eye. "Do I like
what you've said? No, it makes me feel inadequate. I know, it's
silly. Makes me sound like one of these stupid alpha males who's hung up
about the size of their dick, and who buys a big car to compensate. But do
I like your honesty? Yes, Cal. And I like the fact that you didn't just
decide to go on Grindr and fuck guys behind my back ..."

Cal suddenly looked a little sheepish -- and I knew immediately what it
meant.

"Ah," I acknowledged. "So, you have got a Grindr account ..."

	"Yes," my husband confessed. "But I swear to God I've never met
anyone through it. I just wanted to see what was out there ..."

	"Okay ..." I muttered, unsure of how to take things forward. I have
to admit that I was angry. But when all was said and done, this wasn't
exactly the place to express that emotion.

	No, that happened when we got home some thirty minutes or so later.

	"So how long have you had this fucking account?" I exclaimed upon
closing the door on the world. "Seriously, Cal, I thought you were better
than this ..."

	My husband shrugged his shoulders; then proceeded to strip out of
his works clothes. "I'm not sure," he claimed. "A few weeks maybe ..."

	"Please, what were we saying before? Total honesty and all
that. It's longer than a few weeks surely. It must have been before you
told me you wanted a fucking divorce!"

	"Okay, okay," he insisted, as I noted he was now in nothing more
than his briefs -- and admittedly looking very sexy for it. "It's been a
couple of months now. I just wanted to see what was out there, that's
all. I haven't met anyone I promise. But I admit I've wanted to -- which is
why I thought a divorce was the only solution ..."

	"To your problems, Cal, yes. But not to mine, I can assure you."

	"Have I ever told you that you're sexy when you're cross?" he
suddenly teased.

	"Funnily enough, only you," I retorted. "But then you're the only
person I ever get cross with!"

	It was true. But I also knew I wouldn't be cross for long. I flared
up, then died down almost as quickly. Besides, how could I maintain my
anger when I had such a fucking gorgeous guy stood in front of me?
Honestly, Cal drove me mad sometimes with his impulsive, reckless nature;
but his gorgeously toned physique always, always won me around. Every
fucking time.

	What's more, he knew it.

	Especially when -- as was the case right now -- he got that
gorgeous cock of his out for all the world to see. Waggling it in front of
me like the born exhibitionist I'd always secretly known he was.

	"I'm going for a quick shower," he motioned. "Wanna join me?"

	I have to admit that this was arguably the most sexually
provocative he'd been in quite some time, although it was only now that I
really recognised the fact. The truth was that we'd been so busy living our
lives that we'd probably lost sight of what was important, which in part
explained I guess why we'd come to the crisis that we'd come to. Work,
family, socialising -- they had all silently and surreptitiously taken
their toll. And only now were we finally beginning to realise.

	Even so, I was still fucking mad with my bastard of a hubby. And I
still wasn't totally convinced that tripping off to a gay club was the best
solution to the problems that we faced.

	Right at that moment, however, I felt I had little choice but to go
with the flow.

	Talking of which, I could hear the sound of the shower running; and
the thought of my husband's insanely divine body quickly came to the
forefront of my mind. To be fair it had been quite a while since we'd done
anything as kinky as shower together, so maybe joining him wasn't such a
bad idea after all.

	Not that taking a shower together was exactly risqué, of
course. But it made me realise just how stale our relationship had got.

	Yes, maybe Cal was right. Maybe it was time that we spiced things
up a little.

	I unbuttoned my shirt and was soon stripping out of office attire;
following the enticing sound of water along the hallway that led to the
shower-room. Whereupon I gently pushed open the door and was greeted by the
delicious sight of Cal in all his naked glory. Soaping himself down, and
(as I quickly noted) already sporting quite a decent semi in the process.

	"You seem to be a bit excited about something," I observed,
stepping into the steamy room, and pacing slowly up towards my man.

	Cal smiled, casting that big, toothy grin that had first won me
over quite a few years back now. He was a couple of inches shorter than my
6'1" stature, and much more the twunk than the twink that he'd been when
we'd first met; but he was still much smoother than myself, and still as
cute as fuck.

	Or at least I thought so. As my own cock was beginning to testify.

	"Looks like you're a bit excited, too ..." he smirked, reaching out
to grab hold of my meaty, cut shaft. Running his fingers up and down my cut
shaft.

	I'm a seriously dribbler, and I could already tell that I was
dribbling big time as Cal pushed me against the wall to kiss me. Darting
his tongue into my receptive mouth. Pressing against my slightly hairy
chest. Running his hand up and down my aching rod.

	Of course, I knew damn well that it wouldn't be many seconds before
the fellow's knees began to buckle -- and so it proved. Sliding down my
body with an array of lingering kisses, before finally falling to the floor
in order to view my now throbbing cock at close quarters.

	"Fuck, you're hard," he quipped, glancing up at me with those deep
sapphire eyes of his. "Anybody would think that me telling you I want to
fuck other guys turns you on ..."

	"I don't think so," I insisted, but in truth I was already
unsure. I mean the logical side of me said that there was just no way I was
gonna get turned on by the thought of my husband being unfaithful with
random strangers. And yet somehow there was a much sleazier aspect to my
persona -- a part of me that I had always denied, and which had never been
explored -- to which the whole idea quietly appealed. As my cock was now
only too eagerly proving.

	What I still didn't know, however, was whether it was a rabbit hole
I wished to go down.

	For the time being, though, it didn't need to be an issue. No, I
could simply enjoy the sensation of Cal taking the head of my dick into his
mouth, as he'd done countless times before. Slowly sliding his lips further
and further down my aching ramrod; until the crown of my seven inch pole
finally brushed against the back of his mouth, with Cal nuzzling his nose
on the stubbled remains of my pubes. Audibly groaning in delight as he did
so.

	As he'd already openly admitted, my husband loved cock. Always had
done, always would. In his mouth. In his butt. He was, in short, a total
bottom. A slut for dick, to whom one phallus was obviously never really
going to be enough now that I thought about it. In fact in many ways I was
a tad surprised that the issue hadn't really come to a head before this
point. What's more, although I was still annoyed about his Grindr account,
I was impressed that he'd had the courage to say something before he
actually did anything behind my back -- which is more than can be said
about a lot of guys, who would have just fucked around without so much as a
bye or leave.

	That said, I rather wish he hadn't just demanded a divorce to try
and tackle the issue. Surely a request to talk would have been
sufficient. But hey, that was the way Cal did things I guess; and if
anything, I simply loved him all the more because of it.

	Geez, he was going to work on my dick like never before by this
point. Slurping on every fucking inch with the kind of raw gusto that
threatened to bring me to the boil just a little bit too early for my
liking. As such, I promptly urged the lad to get back up onto his feet;
reaching for the soap so that I could lather the fellow's torso, then
slowly easing my way down his frame. Trailing my digits across his soft,
wet flesh. Easing myself further and further down, until I was easing my
fingers down his handsome cum gullies. Working my way down to his aching
dick and his heavy spunk-sac.

	If anything, Cal was not quite as well-endowed as myself -- maybe
six inches? -- but what he lacked in length he definitely gained in
girth. What's more, he had the one thing that always fascinated me more
than anything, namely foreskin; and as always, I was more than happy to
play with that generous fold of flesh as I took my turn on my knees,
working my eager tongue between the prepuce and the angry purple head
inside. Tasting the salty delight of precum that was already oozing from
his pee-hole; whilst running my hands around the base of his cock and his
balls, which were (as always) smoother than French glass.

	To be honest, I don't think I'd ever known a single occasion when
Cal had ever had so much as an offending follicle on show in those intimate
quarters. Truthfully, it was as if the very thought of a pubic hair
repulsed him; although conversely, he never complained about my clipped
offering. Fact is I often teased him about how much time he spent smoothing
out his crotch -- shaving, tweezing, and plucking away every last vestige
of fuzz with the kind of enthusiasm that I'd rarely seen in anyone about
anything. What's more, being a boy that always looked after himself and
liked to look his best, he was not averse to a regular trip to a local
beauty parlour to get his crack smoothed out -- a fact that always amused
me when I considered what his colleagues at the garage he worked at would
say if they knew. Then again, this was a guy who never did anything there
without gloves on, for fear of it roughing his hands, so maybe they
wouldn't be as surprised as I thought!

	 Right now, however, I was more than content with the silky feel of
those sweet, exquisite parts; as I continued to push down on his dick,
consuming the entire length of knob as I cupped his balls in the palm of my
hand and gently squeezed on his generous nuts. It wasn't long, however,
before my fingers were forcing their way further back towards Cal's hungry
hole. My hubby gently easing his legs apart to make my access a little less
demanding. As such, I was soon readily fingering that tight pucker for all
that I was worth. Working first one digit inside, then a second; by which
time I could tell that Cal's breathing was already becoming somewhat
laboured with excitement, and that a very tasty climax was probably just a
few seconds away.

	"Oh fuck!" he finally squeaked, as I buried my head deeper into his
crotch than ever before. "I'm gonna cum ..."

	He gently pressed both his hands behind the back of my head, just
in case I had second thoughts and pulled away at the last moment. As if!
Whereupon the first splatter of pent up ball juice shot to the back of my
throat -- my cue to open up my gullet and to gulp down as much of that
delicious nectar as possible without spilling any. A somewhat impossible
task I have to say, given the amount of spunk that my husband usually
produced -- and no less so on this occasion. Believe me, he must have
produced seven or maybe even eight solid blasts that would've surely
satisfied even the hungriest of cum aficionados!

	Not that I would have readily classified myself in that category, I
have to be honest. Indeed, I admit that there'd been more than one or two
occasions in the past when I had happily passed the opportunity to swallow;
preferring instead to passively watch as Cal bust his nuts. Allowing his
frustrated secretions to go to waste. On this particular occasion, however,
I have to admit that I was as horned as fuck and golloped him down like you
wouldn't believe. So enthusiastically, in fact, that I think I took Cal
completely by surprise. And no wonder. In fact, I think I surprised even
myself.

	Why, I didn't quite know what had come over me -- excuse the pun!

	In contrast, my husband had always been a very consummate
appreciator of jizz. A man who had relished the prospect of a mouthful of
sperm right from our very first date. Not that we actually fucked the first
time we met -- if truth be told I'd always been a bit reserved in that
respect. But hands up, I did let Cal go down on me. Rewarding him with what
he later described as a delicious belly-load of fresh whipped cream that
proved a splendid nightcap to a perfect evening.

	Needless to say, the next night my load got fired straight up his
raw arse! Actually, I say load. I think it was more in the region of three!
Halcyon days indeed ...

	Since then, of course, things had settled down between us; and
looking back perhaps we had lost a little of our initial sparkle, as is so
often the case. Not that that seemed to be the case tonight, however; and
the fact that Cal was soon replicating my own performance only underlined
the point. Believe me, his lips were like feckin' suction cups on my dick;
and suffice it to say it was no time at all before I was at the point of no
return. Erupting like Etna past my hubby's tonsils.

	"Fuck, you were mega horny, bud ..." he finally remarked, as he got
to his feet again -- provocatively licking his lips as he did so. "We're
gonna have to go and see that counsellor more often if that's the way it
makes you feel ..."

	"Maybe," I tentatively agreed.

	But in truth I was already suffering from the cold sweat of
regret. The moment when you realise that your sexual excitement has perhaps
taken you a little further than you ever intended to go; and when you
desperately try to backtrack as best you can.

	Unfortunately, that was not going to be an easy task in this
case. Cal had noted how hyped up I was, and I got the distinct impression
that he was set to drive home full advantage.

	What's more, it very quickly became clear that that's exactly what
he intended to do.





CHAPTER THREE



	Maybe it was down to the job that he did, but it still never ceased
to amaze me how Cal could only ever type with one finger. Seriously, how
could anyone born in the 1990s be so retarded when it came to such a basic
modern task? Geez, I was six years older, and appeared like some
technological whizz-kid in comparison. Though in fairness he never seemed
to display such limitations when it came to playing on the X-box; and he
could also do things like change a gasket and repair a fan-belt, which were
things I didn't have a clue about. Believe me, whenever I came to driving a
car -- which admittedly I didn't do very frequently now that I lived in
London -- I just expected it to burst into life when I turned the key in
the ignition. What went on under the bonnet really was a complete and utter
mystery to a total non-petrolhead like me!

	Even so, typing seemed such an everyday skill that I sort of
expected everyone under sixty to be a complete dab-hand at it. So to watch
my hubby use the keyboard of my laptop like a four year old always caused a
degree of mirth on my part. So much so that I sometimes pissed him off a
little, if truth be known, and an ensuing argument was not completely
unknown. Usually centred on minor domestic irritations like not refilling
the toilet paper in the bathroom or leaving dirty washing up in the
sink. And yes, I hold up my hands to both of those little foibles.

	On this particular occasion, however, it wasn't so much Cal's
rather infantile typing that particularly concerned me; more the reason why
he was using the laptop in the first place. Keen as he was to take a look
at the website for Oscar's, and to peruse some of the reviews that had been
left on the message board.

	Of course, if truth be known I badly wanted to pour a lot of
metaphorical cold water on the whole idea, hoping that that would somehow
put my husband off the mad idea that our counsellor had laid in his
head. But the fact that I had inadvertently displayed some rather latent
enthusiasm in our more intimate moments at the prospect of zesting up our
love life, meant that any chance of that had been well and truly muzzled.

	Yep, like it or not I was going to have to go along with the
plan. At least in these few initial steps.

	Indeed, it was the thought that we were simply "investigating" the
idea that kept me on the path at this initial stage. Like Fredrik had said,
we only had to visit Oscar's as voyeurs, so what harm could there possibly
be? Particularly if we laid down some strict ground rules between us. And
yet, of course, I wasn't an idiot. Cal had already made it very clear that
he would eventually at some point be having sex with someone else whether I
liked it or not; and although I felt he would almost certainly respect me
on a first visit, my control over a second call was almost certainly going
to be much more limited. As I'd said from the start, we were on something
of a slippery slope, and there was only one direction from this point
onwards. Downhill.

	All that said, I can't deny the fact that the whole fantasy of Cal
enjoying a little extra-marital fun hadn't appeared to boost our previously
semi-dormant love-life. Truth was we'd had more sex in the past few days
than we'd probably had for quite a few months. As if the prospect of
betrayal to our wedding vows had engendered a desire on both our parts to
reclaim the other party.

	But, of course, that was all fantasy. Not reality. It was all very
well to imagine inviting a third party into our relationship, or allowing
one of us to make off with another guy. But when it came to the crunch, I
wasn't exactly sure how I would feel if it actually happened.

	And I say if. I knew damn well it was already a case of when.

	Yet there was still a part of me that thought that maybe, just
maybe, Cal would change his mind when push came to shove. And it was that
vain hope, more than anything else, that maintained my resolve right
then. The idea that he'd back off once he realised that tasting forbidden
fruit was nowhere near as appetising as it is in the imagination.

	"Hey," he exclaimed, having finally mastered entering the website
address to view the club's site -- a distinctly impressed tone in his
voice, as if he were viewing some rather impressive car on Top Gear. "I
gotta say it looks really lush ..."

	I was doing my best to concentrate on cooking tea, but I have to
admit that it was difficult. Cal's reaction was definitely distracting, and
I desperately wanted to see what it was that had so very clearly captured
his attention. As such, I took the bolognaise sauce off the heat, and eased
my way over to the sofa where my husband was sitting; taking a position
immediately behind him so that I could wrap my arms around his chest.

	And could strangle him if needs be!

	Seriously though, I have to say that first impressions did look
good; and if I were naturally the kind of person who frequented those kinds
of places I would most definitely have been impressed. I think the word
luxurious was what I would use to best describe it; with the soft purple
lighting that seemed such a feature of the main entrance lobby giving the
place a much softer feel to perhaps I might have expected. What's more,
there appeared to be a warren of other well-designed rooms beyond -- a
sauna, a pool, a couple of viewing rooms, and of course a collection of
bedrooms. All individually designed by the looks of things; and a couple of
which appeared to cater for those of a more extreme taste, with the kind of
equipment that appeared to be straight out of some BDSM movie. Not that I'd
ever really had an appreciation for that kind of thing, I've gotta admit.

	Sadly, as inspiring as all of the pics were, I couldn't help but
feel a little off-key by what I was seeing. After all, there was simply no
denying the fact that I would have much preferred the venue to have been
the grubby, dirty little hell-hole that I had always imagined such places
to be. That way I felt at least I stood a chance at putting Cal off. As it
was, however, I realised from the very first moment that I was staring my
own defeat in the face. There was simply no way that my husband wasn't
going to want to visit the club; and I could already well imagine the
stirrings in his heart, not to mention his pants, that the photos were
provoking. In short, I knew he was sold; and that no amount of effort on my
part was ever going to change his mind.

	Nevertheless, I did have at least one last remaining hope. For the
fact remained that not one of the photos on that website displayed any
evidence of human activity whatsoever. They were what they were: pictures
of empty rooms, devoid of any people or indeed any sign of life, and the
perfect backdrop against which to convey one's own unattainable
fantasies. In reality, however, the place would be filled to the rafters no
doubt with folk that were way as far removed from a pornographic ideal than
it was possible to get. Middle-aged guys with more cash than good looks --
the entry prices for this place weren't cheap, after all! -- who I doubted
would ultimately appeal to Cal. As such, I felt reasonably confident that
any trip to Oscar's might still prove fruitless.

	A hope I would desperately hang on to with all my might!

	"So, when are we going to go?" quipped Cal excitedly. Yep, there
was simply no denying the fact that he was already looking forward to the
trip!

	I gave him a squeeze and a kiss on his cheek. Perhaps more the
result of terror on my part than love. After all, this might be where I
story started to end. In some sordid Newington sex club g to that neither
of us had ever heard of less than a week ago.

	"I'm not sure," I finally, and somewhat hesitantly replied. "I
guess I'll have to check our diary. We've got a few things coming up I
think ..."

	Cal laughed. "Like what?" he snapped.

	"Like ..." I began, trying hard to wrack my brain for ideas and
discovering nothing but an empty void. "Well, I guess we need to go and see
our parents at some point," I finally suggested.

	Cal pulled himself away from me. "You are kidding me?" he
mocked. He knew damn well that visiting either of our parents was not
something I readily suggested even at the best of times.

	"Okay," I conceded, "but we will have to find a convenient time
..."

	"And for you that'll be never," he mocked.

	I stood up from the back of the sofa. "Hey, I think that's a bit
unfair, Cal ..." I insisted.

	My husband swung himself around to face me. "No, Ad," he growled,
"I don't think it's unfair at all. You said from the very start that you
didn't want us to go."

	"I admit I didn't think this was visit was necessary, that's true
..."

	"Ad, what did that counsellor say to us? Honesty and
communication. Did you or did you not say that you would go to a gay
swingers club over your dead body ...?"

	It was true. I think I had said that when I lost my shit with
Fredrick. To be honest, I'd been in such a rage I wasn't one hundred
percent sure what I'd said.

	"Okay, okay," I confessed. "I've found this all very difficult,
yes. But you know that, Cal."

	"Yes, I know that. And you know that to have any hope of saving
this relationship you are going to have to become a little more open to new
things. Things that we've never done before."

	"I guess ..."

	"And Ad, I give you my word that I'm not going to cop off with the
first person I meet. If I'd wanted to do that, I'd have just found someone
behind your back, wouldn't I?"

	"I suppose ..."

	He closed the laptop and put it to one side; beckoning me to come
and sit next to him.

	"Look, Adam," he began -- in truth he very rarely used my full
name. "I know I said I wanted a divorce, and I know that that was
wrong. Because I don't. I love our life together, and I want to grow old
and grey with you. Honestly, I do. But just because you're the love of my
life doesn't mean I don't want to have a bit of fun with someone else from
time to time. It'd be a bit like me being a West Ham fan and refusing to
watch any football game that didn't involve them ..."

	"Since when have you been a football fan?" I quipped. In truth I
was the sportier one.

	"Ad, you know what I mean. And you know I'm not as good with
analogies as you are. You're one of the brightest, smartest guys that I
know, and I wouldn't want anyone else to come home to at the end of the
day. But like I've already said to you, I do want to have sex with other
guys. Sex with you is good. Fuck, it's been really good this past week. But
I want to enjoy something other than vanilla milkshake all the time. I want
to taste strawberry, banana, chocolate ... and honestly, is that such a
wicked thing to want?"

	"Put like that, I guess not," I agreed. To be fair, Cal rarely laid
his heart open like this; and although an aspect of what he said hurt me a
little, I couldn't help being a little proud in the fact that he'd had the
courage to be so open and forthright.

	"Cal, can I ask you a question?" I finally dared to respond.

	"Honesty. Communication," he repeated. "You can ask me anything
..."

	"You said I was like vanilla milkshake."

	"I didn't exactly say that," he protested. He could always be a bit
picky when he wanted to be.

	"Well, you insinuated that," I insisted. "So, do you think I'm
boring?"

	He laughed. His face filling up with his handsome grin. "Fuck me,
Ad," he finally declared, "of course you're boring. You're a fucking
accountant!"

	"Oh ..." was about as much as a response as I could muster.

	"But that's good, Ad. Seriously, that's good. It's what I need in
my life. I've always been the wilder one. The one who does daft things. The
one who's less responsible. Even though I am the tidier one, it has to be
said ..."

I nodded my head. "I admit I struggle with tidiness."

"So, yes," he continued, "I'm the one who comes up with daft, impulsive
ideas. Like this one. And maybe we'll look back and think fuck, it was a
totally crazy notion, and maybe I'll discover that strawberry and banana
aren't anywhere near as satisfying as vanilla, after all. But we have to
find out. And when we do, the important thing is that we'll still be
together. Facing life as a team."

For once I was struggling to hold back the tears. "You won't leave me, will
you?"

"Leave you?"

"Leave you? Look around you, Ad -- how would I afford a place like this on
my own? I'm never gonna leave you!"

"So, you're only here because of the lifestyle I afford you?"

It was a brutal question -- but it was one that needed to be
asked. Especially now that we were engaging in a policy of full and open
communication.

Cal nodded his head. "It's a bonus, I'll admit. But no, it's not the reason
I'm here. I love you for who you are, Adam Lodge."

I smiled. "Thank you, Callum Wilkinson. I love you for who you are, too."

	At which point we promptly fell together in an open-mouthed
embrace.

	Fuck, I loved this guy. All the fucking world. And I have to be
totally upfront, now that we were embarking on this policy of being totally
honest with each other, I think I loved him even more than before. If that
was indeed at all possible.

	Seriously, I think I was falling in love with him all over again.

	And believe me, that frightened me more than anything else in the
world. After all, I couldn't help feeling that this road we were going down
would only end up in a heap load of heartache.

	All I could do was hope and pray that I was wrong.







CHAPTER FOUR



	There was simply no denying the fact that Cal was like a fucking
puppy during the hours leading up to our trip to Oscar's a few days later.

	Whereas, to continue the analogy, I felt as sick as a dog!

	Seriously, the stark difference between us was truly inescapable.

	Except, of course, my husband's emotions were for anyone to
see. Whereas I bottled mine up with an industrial strength cork.

	As was so often the case, to be perfectly honest.

	Still, the fact remained that there wasn't a great deal I could do
about the situation. Our counsellor had planted the seed, whether I liked
it or not, and now all I could do was sit back and wait to see whether what
blossomed was a precious, exotic orchid, or an unwanted weed.

	It was a lovely early summer's evening, and we headed up Tooley
Street to London Bridge tube station; each of us looking pretty dapper, but
only Cal chatting mindlessly as we walked along. Then we took the Jubilee
Line westwards to Southwark. After which we passed down Blackfriars Road
towards St George's Circus. To be fair, it was an area of London that
neither of us often visited -- I usually worked from home most days, whilst
Cal was based in Wapping -- but of course that's the wonder of Google these
days. Click in an address on your phone and you're pretty much there, as my
husband very neatly demonstrated using just one finger. As would always be
part of the course I was quite sure!

	"So," I sighed, as we ambled our way to destiny, "we're both clear
about the rules tonight? Both happy with what we can and cannot do?"

	Cal laughed. "Why are you saying we?" he quipped. "We both know you
mean me, isn't that right? We both know you're not gonna run in there and
start having sex with some total stranger!"

	I couldn't help but display a slightly startled look, like a rabbit
in headlights. "Well yes, you're right," I admitted. "I'm not. But --"

	"But you think I am," he barbed.

	"Well, no, but -- well, things happen don't they ...?"

	He gave me a quizzical glance.

	"When people have had something to drink," I explained. "People do
things they sometimes regret. That's all I'm saying ..."

	"Don't worry, I'll hold back on the beer."

	"Cock and alcohol are a potent mix," I observed.

	"Look, Ad, you've made it very clear that you don't want me copping
off with someone tonight, and I totally respect that. Really, I do. And
believe me, it's not gonna happen. I mean for fuck's sake, I might not meet
anyone I like!"

	"Ah," I noted, "now you're getting your personal pronouns mixed
up. I think you mean we might not meet anyone we like. That was what we
agreed, wasn't it?"

	Indeed, it was. And pretty early on when we first started to
discuss the idea. Having him have sex with someone else was arguably bad
enough as it was, but the thought of him making out with someone I myself
didn't warm to was just a step way too far outside the box. No, if there
was ever going to be another person then it had to be someone that we both
liked. For me that was a definite deal-breaker every single time.

	"Okay, a slip of the tongue," he confessed; but in truth I was
already getting really worried. Concerned that I was about to be washed
away by a wave of raw lust and emotion that I would never have a hope in
hell's chance of stopping.

	But fuck me, there was precious little I could do about the
situation now. We'd already gone way too far down the road.

	"So, kissing, petting, that's fine," I continued to warn. "But for
tonight, anything beyond that is totally out of the question ..."

	He stopped to look at me. "Ad," he began, looking strangely stern I
must admit, "can I just ask you a question? I mean I'm not being funny
here, but we've said we'll be honest, so I'll just come out and say it ..."

	Fuck, I had a feeling that I was not going to like this!

	"Let's say we meet someone we both really have the hots for, and I
decide to give him a blow-job. How exactly do you intend to stop me? More
to the point, if I decide that I want him to fuck me, what exactly are you
gonna do? Please, I'd really love to know ..."

	I admit I was completely stumped by his arguably brazen
approach. "Well," I admitted, "I suppose there isn't much I could do
really. If that was what you wanted to do. I just hoped that you loved and
respected me enough to keep to the rules that we've agreed."

	He smiled. "My point exactly. That I love and respect you enough to
keep the rules we've agreed. And I shall. I promise. But please, you don't
have to keep harping on about it all the time. Okay? You're my husband and
I love you all the world. Always will. But you are gonna have to try and
have a bit of trust in me. Do you understand? Otherwise, this is never
gonna work and we're gonna end up fucking hating one another."

	For a fucking mechanic he could think very deeply at times, and
this was one of those occasions. And he was dead right. I had to learn to
trust him, otherwise we were a dead duck in the water before we'd even
begun.

	"Okay," I agreed, "I will try. But it's not you I don't trust, it's
other guys."

	Cal gave a wry, and very knowing grin.

	I threw my arms up into the air as if to surrender. "I will trust
you, I promise ..."

	He pulled on my one hand, grabbing hold of it as if for dear
life. "Come on, let's have a great evening together," he beckoned. "As a
married couple, okay?"

	We kissed. "Sounds good," I agreed.

	Five minutes later and we were finally stood outside the heavy
doors of the club, looking up at the Oscar's signage above our heads and
wondering what delights -- and, in my case, terrors! -- lurked beyond.

	"You ready for this?" I quipped, taking a deep breath -- as if we
were both about to immerse ourselves into unfathomable waters. Which in a
strange kind of way is exactly what we were doing!

	He plonked a kiss straight on my lips. Then grinned like the
proverbial cat that had gone the cream. Yeah, a rather unfortunate analogy
even if I do say so myself.

	"Absofuckinglutely!" he declared -- perhaps a little too
enthusiastically for my liking.

	"It's okay, I'm teasing you," he cajoled, seeing the disapproval
etched on my face. "Come on, let's go and play ..."

	Whereupon he led me into the rabbit hole.

	It's at this point that I'd like to tell you that we quickly found
ourselves in exactly the kind of immoral dive that I had feared right from
the start.

	Except, of course, nothing could have been further from the truth.

	Instead, we were politely greeted in the outer foyer by a very
suave looking gentleman in a neat tailored dark suit, who took our card and
led us through another set of doors into the inner lobby that we'd seen on
the website. All lit up in purple glow, and now filled with a selection of
guys in every direction. A pretty homely panorama, if truth be told; and
one that made me feel definitely more at ease than I'd felt just before
we'd arrived.

	That said, maybe it would have been much easier had the place not
appeared quite as swish and swanky as it did. Had it been just exactly the
kind of cesspit I'd always imagined this kind of place to be. But in
fairness I didn't really have chance to dwell on the issue; for no sooner
had we found a small open table to call our own, than a series of
spotlights focused on the stage at the head of the room and in stepped a
rather impressive looking drag act whose name I didn't immediately
note. But who I later discovered was Jane from HR.

	Which was actually quite amusing because we had a Jane from HR at
work who didn't look too dissimilar. A point that I dared whisper to Cal,
who by now casting his eye around the room as best he could in the
semi-darkness. Talk about a kid in a sweetshop!

	Not that there was much chance for either of us to ascertain
prospects during the cabaret that followed, given the lack of light away
from the stage. Indeed, it wasn't until the entertainment switched to a
disco, and some of the guys in the room took to the dance floor that there
was really any chance to mingle at all; by which time I'd calculated there
was probably the best part of thirty or thirty-five folk there, somewhat
more than perhaps I'd anticipated. In addition, it became apparent to me
that not everyone there was a couple, which surprised me a little. Nor was
the club exclusive to males. Turns out the rules and regulations of this
gentleman's abode weren't quite as strict in that respect as I'd imagined.

	If anything, however, this realisation eased the initial
butterflies that had so consumed me to begin with. That, and the
consumption of a couple of beers, of course. Indeed, by the time folks were
jiving to the music I'd actually go so far as to say that I was almost
feeling relaxed about the whole experience. So much so, in fact, that I was
nowhere near as disturbed as I might have been when we were approached by a
rather podgy guy in his forties, who had clearly taken a shine to me and
began chatting idly about a whole list of subjects that didn't especially
concern me.

	Fucking typical that I should be the one who attracts the attention
of the locals!

	As if to add to my awkwardness, Cal decided that this might be the
opportune time to socialise -- leaving me to my own devices, as he jived on
the floor first to Jason Derulo, then to Kylie. By which time he appeared
to have attracted the attention of a couple of what appeared to be quite
handsome guys; whilst I continued to be mindlessly distracted by my now
unwanted companion, who was clearly unaware that all I wanted to do was
watch my husband having fun elsewhere.

	To be fair to Cal, however, he was clearly playing it
cautiously. I'd sort of got the impression that he was gonna be like a bull
in a china shop, making out with the first chap who courted his favour. In
reality, however, nothing could have been further from the truth. True, I
saw a little bit of kissing and grinding on his part; but it was clear even
from a distance that his heart didn't seem to be into it quite as much as
I'd expected. Which, I admit right without hesitation, pleased me
enormously.

	"Everything okay?" I quipped somewhat jovially, as he returned to
our table, deliberately turning my back on the guy who'd been doing his
best to chat me up for the past half hour.

	He smiled, but there was none of the usual wide-mouthed
grin. "Yeah," he sighed.

	"You sure?" I insisted. "You seem a bit -- down ..."

	He leaned across and kissed me. "I'm fine, bud. Honestly ..."

	I let a moment pass, as my companion -- aware now that he wasn't
going to get anywhere with me -- made his excuses and soldiered off
elsewhere. Leaving the two of us alone again.

	"Sometimes happiness isn't in the places we expect it to be ..." I
finally whispered.

	"Hey, there's some hot guys there," Cal confessed. "Gotta be honest
and admit. But I don't know, there's nobody I've met who I've really taken
to, if you know what I mean ..."

	To say that I was ecstatic at what I'd just heard would be the
understatement of the day. After days and days of worry, it seemed my worst
fears weren't going to come true.

	At least not yet, anyway. After all, I wasn't an idiot. The law of
statistical averages told me that he'd click with someone somewhere some
day!

	But the important thing right now is that it didn't look like being
tonight.

	Or had I concluded too soon?

	"Hello, you two," came a half-recognisable voice, almost out of
nowhere. "So, you've made it here at last. I am very pleased, I must say,"

	 We both glanced up, yanked as we were from our little private
bubble. To be greeted by Fredrick. Accompanied by an extremely tall,
imposing black guy. Beefed and dapper and looking disgustingly gorgeous.

Seriously, even I had to admit that he was a real cock-stiffener in every
sense, and I wasn't the one who'd come to this club looking for action!

	"Guys, let me introduce you to Raphael," Fredrick
continued. "Raphael, this is Adam and Cal. They're both Oscar's virgins,
aren't you, guys ..."

	"Yes, yes," I stuttered somewhat nervously, totally thrown off
course by this sudden and unexpected introduction. "Do you come here often,
Raphael?"

	The two guys glanced at each other and smiled. "Well, perhaps not
as often as I should," Raphael confessed. "But whenever I come and see the
talent, I always think I should make more of an effort. The talent on
stage, I would like to add," he joked.

	My husband and I both laughed somewhat nervously.

	"So, what brings you two chaps here tonight ...?" the fellow
quizzed.

	Cal and I locked eyes for a second. "We thought we'd come and see
what all the fuss was about," I finally teased. "Fredrick here recommended
it, so we guessed it was worth giving it a try."

	"Oh, he did, did he?" Raphael quipped, turning to his friend. "Is
this another one of your unorthodox marriage counselling techniques, Rick?

	"I assume you two are married ...?" he quickly added.

	"Three years," Cal confirmed.

	"Good, good," Raphael noted.

	Fredrick too a step back. "Right, I'm gonna head off," he
remarked. "Leave you guys to it. I only came to see the entertainment, to
be quite honest with you. I do like that act. I've seen her several times,
and she's always one of the best."

	He and his friend exchanged both a firm handshake and hug. "See you
round, bro," Raphael declared mischievously; then returned his attention to
us, plonking himself down on a chair on the opposite side of our table.

	"He's always recommending guys here," he began. "It can be a bit
embarrassing at times, I have to admit. But I guess new clientele is new
clientele, so who's complaining?"

	At which point he confidently turned his attention to a young
waiter who was passing, waving him down. "Southern Comfort and coke, with a
slice of lime," he requested. "What are you two guys, having? My shout."

	"You sure?" I retorted.

	"Absolutely," he insisted; so, Cal ordered an ale, and I requested
a stout.

	I wasn't entirely sure of his age -- mid-to-late thirties maybe --
but the fit of his dark blue silky shirt told you he was no stranger to the
gym. He was also clearly a regular visitor to a grooming parlour, given the
intricate cut and shape of his cropped hair and short beard; and I was
already quickly wondering whether the rest of his body was equally
manicured. Which is altogether odd really given that I'd entered the
building very much the faithful party in my marriage.

	But I guess that just went to underline this fella's unrivalled
charisma.

	"So, I take it you're both into swinging?" he promptly asked. Why,
I could already tell that he was man who went straight for the jugular. A
guy who quite simply didn't mess about.

	"Not exactly," I replied. "To be honest, we've just been looking to
spice things up a little ..."

	"Tell me more ..." he insisted.

	"Well, it's Cal really," I explained. "He thought it might be good
to -- well, have a little fun."

	Cal smiled sheepishly, clearly somewhat overawed by our guest; but
said nothing.

	"And are you okay with that, Adam?" Raphael asked.

	"As long as nothing's done behind my back, yes," I confirmed.

	Raphael smiled, and nodded his head. "Yes, that's the important
thing, I think. As my friend Rick would say, keeping communication lines
open is the number one priority."

	"So, are you in a relationship, Raphael?" I enquired.

	"Call me Raph," he insisted.

	"Raph," I repeated.

"To be honest, your bulk-standard relationship just doesn't work for me,
Adam," he then explained. "I'll just put it out there straightaway. Not
sure why, but I find it -- well, pretty tiresome. Boyfriend, partner,
husband -- that kind of one-to-one arrangement is just not for me. But
that's not to say I'm not interested in having a boyfriend or a
partner. He's just got to be married to someone else, that's all. To me,
that's all part of the buzz. That's what keeps my interest."

	"Have you had much experience?" Cal butted in, finally courageous
enough to speak.

	"I've enjoyed some good arrangements, yes," he explained. "But not
for a little while now. Trouble is that this place has often taken up way
too much of my time."

	"You own this place?" we both exclaimed.

	He looked around him. "Yeah -- lock, stock and barrel. What do you
guys think?"

	Cal and I nodded our heads. "It's great," I admitted. "To be
honest, when Fredrick recommended a club in Newington, I sort of got the
impression that it'd be some grubby little dive. But honestly, this is
pretty swish, man. Very impressive."

	"You wouldn't be the first to think that, man," he confessed. "But
I knew I wanted something clean and vibrant. Something eye-catching. Not to
mention dick-catching!"

	We laughed; at which point the drinks arrived and were distributed
out.

	"Cheers!" Raph declared -- and we clicked bottles and glasses.

	"I'm 36, by the way," he confirmed.

	"I'm 28," Cal replied, now appearing to find his feet. "Ad's 34."

	"Cool," he sighed. "Well, the good news is that I think I've got
some good management in place here now, so hopefully I shall have a bit
more free time to play around more. All I need to do is find someone who's
up to the challenge ..."

	At which point he focused his attention directly on Cal, who I
swear was starting to blush.

	"So, tell me, Cal, you up to showing what you can do on the dance
floor? People are always saying that white boys can't dance, but I'm
willing to give you your chance to prove yourself. If you're interested,
that is ..."

	And it was right at that moment that my stomach seemed to fall
through the floor. For having reached a point just a short while ago when I
thought we might actually be able to get out of this place without having
met anyone, it suddenly occurred to me that such a victory was about to be
snatched from my grasp. Because it was fucking obvious that Cal liked what
he saw in Raph; and it was equally apparent that Raph liked what he saw in
Cal.

	No doubt about it, these two guys were gonna click.

	And not to put it too bluntly, there was absolutely fuck all that I
could do about it!

	"Is that okay with you, Adam?" I half-heard our new black friend
ask. Dragging me from the almost lethal brew of thoughts that were now
bubbled around in my head.

	"Sorry ..." I stuttered. "What was that you said?"

	"I said is it okay if I take Cal down to the dance floor?"

	"Yes, yes," I agreed, turning to my husband. "Assuming Cal wants to
go ..."

	"Of course, I want to go," Cal insisted, getting up from the table
-- and revealing quite an unmistakable bulge in his trousers as he did
so. Something that didn't escape Raph's notice for a second.

	"Hey," he smiled, with clear satisfaction on his gorgeous face, "I
reckon we have one very excited white boy here. What do you say, Adam?"

	I felt my cheeks tinge with crimson. "Looks like it," I gingerly
confessed.

	"Then again," he continued, "I haven't seen you stand up, Adam. I
might have two very excited white boys on my hands for all I know ..."

	Not that he gave me chance to respond. Before I knew it, he'd
grabbed hold of Cal's hand and was escorting him in the direction of the
music. Leaving me like a proper little Billy No Mates, with only my bottle
of stout for company.

	Still, looking on the bright side, at least my husband had found
what he'd come looking for. A point that very quickly became apparent by
his antics on the dance floor. For whereas his previous visit there had
seen him conduct an arguably half-hearted approach to being with another
guy, this time he was definitely all fired up on all cylinders. Grinding
and rubbing himself against Raph like a proverbial cat on heat, without so
much as a wayward glance in my direction to check that I was even still in
the room! Believe me, I was a long way from his thoughts right at that
moment -- and I have to confess that realisation hurt like hell!

	Whilst conversely, at exactly the same time, it turned me on like
fuck!

	To be honest, I had absolutely no idea why this should be the
case. I mean, surely I should be completely horrified at the sight of my
husband flirting and cavorting with another guy. This was the man I loved
most in the world, after all. The chap I wanted to spend the rest of my
life with. I should be incandescent with rage -- as I was when Fredrick had
suggested us coming to this club in the first place. And yet now we were
here, and it was actually happening in front of me, I was sporting the kind
of hard on in my pants that I don't think I'd ever had in my life. Not even
as a teenager!

	Geez, it was a complete and utter mystery. One that was seriously
fucking with my head.

	What's more, my plight seemed to only get worse when I noted that
the two of them were soon smooching like a couple of love-sick youngsters,
exchanging bodily fluids for the very first time. Of course, all sense and
reason told me that the sensible thing to do at this juncture was to turn
away. To perhaps order myself another drink, and to try to forget the grimy
little display now being broadcast for everyone to see at my expense. But
the more I told myself that that was the thing to do, the more I wanted to
watch; and it took all my inner strength and resolve not to move to a
closer vantage in order to enjoy the performance at nearer quarters.

	What's more, my cock was saying everything I needed to know about
myself. Literally throbbing away in my pants so badly that it was almost
painful; and dribbling so intensely that I soon became conscious of a wet
patch in my swollen crotch.

	I mean for fuck's sake, what the hell was the matter with me?!

	As it happened, however, I didn't have time to try to wade through
any psychological self-analysis. For no sooner had I begun to dwell on my
current predicament, than Cal and his new-found beau were tripping back
from the music and were plonking themselves back down in their
seats. Generous smiles on both their faces that pretty much said all that I
needed to know, namely that they'd had a fucking great time out there
together.

	A point that I found myself eager to verbalise for some reason.

	Cal leaned across and kissed me on the mouth. "Yes," he grinned,
flashing a knowing look across at Raph, "it was good ..."

	And given the taste of Raph on my husband's lips, I don't think he
could have ever denied it.

	"Actually, Adam," the black guy suddenly interjected, "I hope you
don't mind me suggesting this, but is there any chance that we could swop
seats? It's just it'd be nice to be able to sit by Cal if I can. If that's
okay with Cal, of course ..."

	My husband responded before I did. "No, not at all ..." he assured
the fellow, leaving me with little choice but to oblige.

	Of course, you didn't need a degree to realise why the appeal had
been made. Cal and I were seated side by side, with Raph on the other side
of the table. Exchanging seats meant that I became, in effect, the third
wheel, with the two guys free to do whatever they wanted to do without me
being in the way. I'll be honest, it wasn't exactly what I viewed as an
ideal arrangement, but under the circumstances I guessed I had very little
option. As Cal himself had previously pointed out, what the hell was I
going to do to stop him from doing what he wanted if he had the urge and
opportunity? Better to just go with the flow and hope some degree of sense
kept things in check.

	"I hope you didn't mind me kissing your husband out on the dance
floor ..." Raph noted, having ordered another drink for us all. "It's just
I find it very hard to resist a sexy guy. Especially a sexy white guy who
clearly appreciates a bit of chocolate ..."

	Yes, vanilla -- not to mention strawberry and banana -- was
definitely off the menu!

	"No, it's fine," I sighed -- words that would have seemed strangely
surreal in any other situation. After all, this was my husband I was
talking about. Not some unfamiliar outsider. This was the man I knew best
in the world. With whom I'd shared some of the most intimate moments of my
life. And yet here, at Oscar's, where the world was turned upside down and
where even the oddest kink probably seemed quite normal, it all appeared
quite regular. Expected, even.

	"That's cool," Raph smiled, gazing into Cal's dark eyes, "because
I'd really like to kiss him again. Would you mind if I did ...?"

	I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess not," I noted, aware that I had
one stonking erection pounding away in my pants as I did so.

	"Good," he sighed; diving towards Cal, who immediately responded
with a keen, open mouth. As a result, the two love birds were swiftly
feasting away on each other's faces like a pair of hungry wolves; arguably
leaving me the most perfect vista that I've ever witnessed in my life.

	After all, there was no denying the fact that Raph was simply
gorgeous, and I understood perfectly why Cal should be so enamoured of
him. Though of course therein lay the danger. It was all very well for my
husband to be relishing fresh meat, so to speak, with me sitting idly by,
so long as there was no emotional bond. But would that always be the case?
Ah, that was the million dollar question; and all I could do it seemed was
wait patiently to see how things transpired to find out.

	For now, however, the bonding was merely raw and basic. Just sex,
so to speak. Nothing more, nothing less. Except, of course, Cal and I had
agreed that sex itself wouldn't be happening tonight -- no matter how much
animalistic attraction there might be. And to his credit, he did indeed
live up to that promise; assisted by the fact that Raph was gentlemanly
enough not to push the boundaries too eagerly on that first encounter. All
the same, I already knew it was only a matter of time before it happened,
and that all I could do in the meantime was prepare myself for the
inevitable. Not to mention the unavoidable fallout that would result from
that turn of events.

	Not that Cal was a complete paradigm of restraint, I'd like to
point out. Fact is he'd taken full advantage of their physical proximity to
one another to get a very good feel of what Raph had got stashed in his
trousers. And something told me even before we left for home that he was
very impressed by what he felt he'd discovered. In this case literally!

	"So, can I hope to see you guys again?" the club owner quizzed
prior to our departure, clearly hoping that what he'd experienced tonight
was a mere taster for the real fun to come.

	It was at this point that I kind of assumed that Cal would
immediately agree, numbers would be exchanged, and that that would be
that. But I was surprisingly wrong.

	Instead, my husband played things much cooler than I would ever
have given him credit for.

	"I think Ad and I need to chat about things before we agree to
anything," he smiled. "You don't mind, do you? It's just this is a big
thing -- especially for Adam ..."

	"That's absolutely fine," Raph nodded. "To be honest, it's
refreshing to find a couple who would do that. And important, too. You need
to maintain honesty and openness every step of the way when you're
embarking on something like this.

	"Oh fuck!" he promptly added. "I'm probably sounding like Rick now,
aren't I ...?"

	We all laughed. Yes, he was -- but then they were clearly good
friends. And besides, Fredrick had been right. It was exactly what was
needed in this very delicate situation.

	"Okay for me to give you my number?" the black guy finally quizzed,
hopefully.

	Cal and I both nodded our heads. "Of course," I agreed. At which
point he scribbled it down on one of the club's business cards and handed
it to my husband.

	"It's been a great evening," he noted. "I hope you've both enjoyed
it as much as I have."

	"Absolutely," we agreed.

	"Let's hope I hear from you soon, then," he declared, escorting us
back into the outer foyer.

	"I'm sure you will," Cal replied, with a notable wink. Which pretty
much told me that any discussion between the two of us was set to be a
foregone conclusion.

	Not that I really expected anything different.

	A moment or two later, and we were back out in the fresh
air. Exactly the same as when we'd first arrived. Yet strangely, and most
definitely, different.





CHAPTER FIVE



	We somewhat deliberately didn't chat on our way home. I think we
both subconsciously agreed that it wasn't the time or the place.

	But rest assured all that changed once we got back to our apartment
and had headed to the comfort of our king sized bed.

	"So, what did you think then?" he quipped, lying on his side,
looking towards me expectantly; with his head resting on his hand.

	I knew who he was referring to, of course, but I decided to tease
him a little bit. "To be honest," I began, "it was a much classier place
than I'd kind of been expecting."

	Cal grabbed hold of a pillow and promptly bashed me over the
head. "Stop being such a cunt!" he demanded. "I was referring to Raph!"

	God, he was in a playful mood. You only had to look at him to
tell. Seriously, I hadn't seen him this excited for fuck knows how long. A
fact that pleased and upset me in equal measure, I have to be honest. I
mean, yes it was lovely that he was feeling so buoyant after our trip
across town; but why did he never get so excited about me? Didn't he like
me anymore or something?

	Still, I guess these were issues that would have to be played out
as we travelled along. No point trying to tackle the psychology of the
situation right here, right now. It would only cause upset.

	"So then, what did you really think of him?" Cal demanded again.

	"He seemed a nice guy," I confessed. Actually, if I'm absolutely
one hundred percent honest, he seemed a great guy; but I didn't want to
overegg the pudding too much, as it were. I mean for fuck's sake, we'd only
spent a few hours with him. It's impossible to truly assess someone in that
short space of time.

	"Anyhow," I continued, "you're the one looking for something extra
in our marriage. What did you think of him?"

	He resumed his position on his side, throwing his one leg over
mine. "Well, he was definitely head and shoulders above anyone else who was
there," he noted.

	"Quite literally given that he's -- what? Six foot four? Maybe even
six foot five ...?"

	"Absolutely."

	"To be honest, before we met him, I thought you were gonna come
home disappointed," I admitted.

	"So did I. I'm just glad he showed up. Seriously, Ad, I really
liked him."

	"Now you're sounding a little too enthusiastic for my liking," I
warned.

	"Bud, you seriously have nothing to worry about."

	I gave a quizzical look. "Don't I?"

	"Ad, seriously now. Can you imagine what my folks would say if they
saw me with a black guy? Fuck, they'd go ape shit! It was hard enough
getting them to accept that I was gay."

	"So, I'll be a convenient cover for you to explore your fetish for
black men, then?" I quipped, trying hard to seem too annoyed.

	"Ad, I didn't mean that at all. And you know it. But if it helps
with your insecurities then I think it's probably good that we've met a guy
lie Raph. You'll know I'm never gonna leave you for him."

	"Because your folks are racists?" I retorted, trying desperately
now to hold back my anger. "Oh thanks, Callum. Thanks a bunch. That's made
me feel fucking great!"

	I promptly hunched myself up in bed with my back to him and flicked
off my bedside light. Fuck, this wasn't gonna work. This wasn't gonna work
at all. We'd only met this one guy and we were already at each other's
throats. Yeah, perhaps Cal had been right from the beginning. Perhaps it
was time for a divorce. He could then fuck off and shag as many black guys
as he wanted to!

	I heard my husband sigh; before he settled down behind me and
switched his light off too.

	A few moments passed, then I felt Cal reach out and put his arm
around me. At which point I became all too aware of his raging hard-on,
which was pressing against my arse. Usually, I'd regard that as the perfect
invitation for me to turn over and have some fun, but right at this moment
I just wasn't in the mood. I wasn't in the mood at all.

	"Can I tell you a secret?" Cal finally whispered.

	"What?" I barked back.

	He paused. "I love you, Mr Lodge."

	"I love you too, Mr Wilkinson," I replied. "But I've got to admit,
this is hard. Too hard."

	"It needn't be ..."

	"What? If I just let you head off on a black guy shag fest?"

	"No," he drawled. "I don't want you to do that at all."

	"Anyway," I continued, "you've never said before you were into
black guys ..."

	"I've never really been conscious of it. I mean I admit Fredrick's
quite a handsome fella, but I didn't fancy him. But Raph -- well, he's
different somehow. I genuinely think he's really hot. Just like I think
you're hot, bud ..."

	There followed about thirty seconds of silence, as we lay together
in the dark; with only the glow of the street-light outside for company.

	"Cal," I finally said.

	"Ad?"

	"Maybe you were right. Maybe we should divorce."

	My husband immediately bounded up and switched his light on. At
which point I turned myself around to see what was going on.

	"Ad, I told you. I don't want a divorce. I was wrong to even
suggest it."

	"No, maybe you were right," I insisted.

	"No, I was definitely wrong," he repeated, taking a deep
breath. "Look, Ad, if it makes you feel better, let's not go to the club
again. Let's not contact Raph -- and just put the whole thing down to a fun
experience. Honestly, I love you and I don't want to hurt you. I know I've
said that you can't stop me from fucking other guys, but deep down I know I
love you more than I've ever loved anyone else in my life and I don't want
to lose you. Come on, let's forget all about it ..."

	Christ, I loved this boy. So, so much. Never more so than when he
was emotionally vulnerable like this. Bearing his heart for all the world
to see.

	"Come here," I beckoned. At which he promptly came forward and we
cuddled. Tight.

	"I love you, Cal," I sighed. "I don't know what I'd do without
you."

	"I don't know what I'd do with you either," he confessed.

	Before I knew it, the two of us were gently kissing each other,
which quickly transformed itself into a much more intense embrace. Our
mouths opening up as an open invitation; as we took it in turns to dart our
tongues into the dark, tantalising recesses beyond. Both our cocks already
straining at the leash; whilst we entwined our bodies together like
snakes. Twisting and cavorting in a bid almost to become one complete
unit. One inseparable mass.

	Ultimately, however, the thought of all that fabulous, throbbing
flesh between our legs began to get the better of us. Most notably Cal, who
slowly began to slide his way down my frame. Kissing my chin, my nipples,
my belly; then grabbing hold of my pulsing shaft and enveloping the swollen
helmet with his lips. Rolling his tongue against my slit, before gradually
easing as much of my dick into his mouth as he could possibly
muster. Whilst I moaned and groaned with sweet and blissful satisfaction,
wondering how much longer I could hold on before blowing my load.

	I didn't want to do that quite yet though. No way! So, I gently bid
Cal to bring himself back up the bed, enabling me to replicate the
pleasures that he had so generously gifted to me. Taking time to savour
those delicious nips of his, which I teased with my mouth and fingers;
before rolling down to his perfectly hairless crotch. Wrapping my hungry
tongue around his balls, whilst clenching my fist and rubbing up and down
the length of his aching joystick. Now oozing precum aplenty and looking
every inch the fabulous, sticky mess that I always loved it to be.

	I could tell that he was massively excited -- partly as a result of
what I was now doing to him, but partly (I was quite sure) because of what
he'd been up to at the club for several hours that evening. And to be fair,
it didn't bother me. In fact, I'll be honest, it turned me
on. Massively. Yes, despite all my insecurities about our situation and
about the dangerous path that we were now going down, there was just
something so incredibly hot about him having been so brazenly
unfaithful. Jiving and playing with some other guy who he'd literally only
just met.

	Who he didn't know from Adam!

	"Did you enjoy sitting next to Raph?" I quizzed, as I continued to
slowly jerk his meat. Watching carefully as his crown bobbed in and out of
that delicious foreskin that he'd got. His slit literally drooling with
clear, tasty goo with each and every stroke.

	"What did you say ...?" he gasped -- as if he was a little
unwilling to be discuss the subject.

	But I was adamant that it was admission time. "I said, did you
enjoy sitting next to Raph? Did you get to feel him under the table ...?"

	"Please," he begged, "let's forget it ..."

	"No," I retorted, "let's not forget it. It was hot. Really hot."

	He paused, as I continued to stroke him. "Are you sure ...?"

	"I wouldn't say so if it wasn't."

	"I suppose ..." he whimpered. But I could tell he was feeling
guilty.

	There was no need though. True, the whole experience had made me
feel mega insecure. And yet at the same time that very feeling of
uncertainty was one of the most exhilarating sensations in my
life. Seriously. Which, of course, was totally crazy; but which I was very
quickly beginning to realise could be frighteningly addictive.

	"So, tell me, husband," I cajoled. "Did you feel him under the
table ...?"

	Cal gave out a deep sigh. "Of course, I felt him under the table
..." he admitted.

	"And ...?"

	"And I felt him on the dance floor too ..."

	"And ...?"

	"Oh fuck, Ad, he felt -- fucking massive. Like Matt Hughes kind of
fucking massive ..."

	Matt Hughes being one of his favourite porn stars, with a phallus
on him that pretty much needed a postcode all of its own. Seriously, that
man is hung like a fucking horse!

	"You are kidding?" I teased.

	"Christ no, Ad. Seriously, it felt like it was halfway down his
fucking leg!"

	"Did it make you hard?"

	"Like you wouldn't fucking believe," he confessed, as I yanked him
even harder.

	"What did you want to do?"

	He paused -- as if he thought his honesty would offend me. "What
did I want to do?" he finally quipped.

	"Yes, what did you want to do with that monster dick of his ...?"

	"I wanted to get it out so bad," he sighed.

	"Did you want to suck it?"

	"Fuck, yes."

	"Right there in the club ...?"

	"Yeah ..."

	"Right there in front of everyone? In front of me ...?"

	"Oh fuck, yeah ..."

	"And what else did you want to do ...?"

	"What else ...?"

	"Did you want to sit on it? Did you want him to fuck you balls deep
until you cried for your Mom?"

	Suffice it to say, Cal never answered. To be honest, he didn't need
to. His cock said it all. Blasting a deliriously brutal wad of spunk right
over his head to fuck knows where. Followed by another. And another. Blast
after wondrous blast of sticky, creamy ball-snot that literally coated his
chest and belly with a thick layer of baby-brew; and which left my fist and
fingers dripping with goo.

	"Oh Christ, that was soooo good ..." he finally gasped; and I could
tell almost immediately that he had tears in his eyes.

	"You okay?" I asked, jumping up the bed to check that he was okay.

	"Yes," he stuttered. "It's okay ..."

	"You're crying," I noted.

	"I just -- I just feel a bit --"

	"What ...?"

	"A bit guilty, that's all."

	"What for?" I demanded.

	"For wanting other cock," he confessed. "For wanting to fuck Raph
..."

	I nibbled up to his ear. This was my opportunity to ram home full
advantage and to tell him that it was all just fantasy, and that perhaps
that was the way it should always remain.

	But for some reason, that's not what I did.

	"It's okay," I whispered instead. "I like you wanting other cock. I
want you to fuck Raph ..."

	Cal seemed genuinely stunned. "You do ...?"

	I nodded my head. "Yes," I admitted. "I like it that you're a slut
for cock. I like it that you're a slut for my cock. Talking of which, I
wanna fuck you, Cal ..."

	Seriously, I'd never seen him part their legs akimbo quite as
quickly ever before!

	What's more, he was so fucking turned on, and my cock was so
greased up with pre-cum, that I could literally slide inside him without so
much as a drop of lube. Which I really genuinely don't think had ever
happened. Not in all the years I'd known him.

	As such, I was quite literally balls-deep inside him within what
seemed like just a few seconds. Slowly grinding back and forth so as not to
cum too quickly; whilst Cal groaned and gasped at the sheer delight of
having dick inside him. Something that never once failed to appeal to him.

	Indeed, during the entire length of our relationship, Cal had
developed very much into the receiver; the party who enjoyed being
penetrated, rather than the one who liked to give. What's more, it was a
development that pretty much suited our needs. I'm not gonna lie, I
thoroughly enjoyed the occasional turn as bottom, but I was definitely much
more inclined to be the one fucking rather than the one who was being
fucked. The one stretching rather than the one being stretched.

	Cal, on the other hand, was a definitely a secret size queen, as
his response to Raph had very evidently demonstrated. For the time being,
however, he was gonna have to make do with me -- though in fairness I don't
think I was too badly hung and had had no complaints to date. Not even from
my husband, who, like most husbands, could often be my biggest critic of
all.

	"Fuck, that's good ..." Cal now exclaimed, as I continued to gently
push and pull into his arse. Noting, as I did so, that his dick was already
rock hard again. Boy, was this guy horny or what?

	"I can tell," I laughed. "Am I hitting all the right spots?"

	"Christ, yes," he sighed. "I love it when you're inside me ..."

	I smiled, pressing a little harder. "Just me?" I demanded.

	"Only you," he teased. But I knew he was lying.

	"Be honest, you little bitch ..." I urged.

	"Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty to me ..."

	"Would you like Raph to talk dirty to you?"

	"Maybe ..."

	"Would you like Raph to fuck you with his monster dick ...?"

	"Oh fuck, Ad, you know I would ..."

	I rammed in hard. "Good, because I can't wait."

	Cal seemed surprised. "Really ...?"

	"Yeah, really. I can't wait to see my husband being banged by big
black cock!"

	"Oh fuck," he gasped -- as if his own horniness had surprised even
him. "I think I'm gonna cum again. Christ, Ad, I fucking am ..."

	And believe me, he wasn't the only one, because I was pretty much
on the brink myself. As a result, I was quite literally dumping what seemed
like a tsunami of spunk into Cal's guts, whilst Cal himself unloaded a
second unbelievable rope of hot cream over his own belly. Splattering his
already creamed-up flesh with another incredible pyrotechnic display that
was worthy of any porno. Even something with Matt Hughes in!

	I leaned down and kissed him, holding back from pulling my
now-spent dick from his ass. For some reason it seemed more important than
ever for the two of us to remain conjoined for as long as possible. As if
our fantasy threatened to drive a wedge between us. Even though we had
already promised each other that that would never happen in a million
years.

	Still, a million years is a long, long time. Especially when it
comes to affairs of the heart.

	"Oh fuck, Ad," my hubby moaned at long last, as we continued to
smooch like the kids we used to be. Cal's spunk slipping and sliding
between us. "I can't tell you how amazing that was. Christ, I saw bloody
stars ..."

	"You were turned on -- big time ..." I noted.

	His mischievous smile shone through the semi-darkness. "And you
were, too," he added. "Don't try and deny it ..."

	"I'm not about to."

	He paused. "So, did you mean it?" he finally enquired.

	"Mean it?"

	"About wanting to watch me being fucked by big black cock?"

	I hesitated, aware as I now was of buyer's remorse. That queer
spell after sex when you suddenly regret everything you've said to the
person you're sharing your bed with. Which is never, ever any more intense
than when that person is question is the love of your life.

	"Let's get some sleep," I urged. "We can talk some more in the
morning, okay?"

	He paused from a response, as I pulled myself away and the two of
us settled into our usual sleeping position. Me behind, with my arm draped
across his body.

	"You're not angry with me, are you, bud?" he finally quipped,
clearly unsure of how things stood between us after everything that had
happened that evening.

	I kissed the back of his neck. "Not at all, I promise," I assured
him.

	Nor was I. Not a little bit, in fact. But that's not to say that
the prospect of where we headed didn't concern me, especially since I knew,
deep down, that there was just no way of stopping it. Cal would not be
happy until he'd slept with Raph.

	What's more -- and this is probably what me concerned me even more
-- neither would I.





CHAPTER SIX



	We hadn't managed to get to bed very early, but it didn't really
matter because it was Saturday the next morning and neither of us had to go
to work. It also meant we'd have plenty of time to sit together and chat
about things once we'd pulled ourselves from our slumber, downed a couple
of coffees and generally got ourselves into the day.

	Or at least when I had. Cal never minded mornings, but I must
confess I'd always struggled.

	As it happened, however, things didn't go quite according to
plan. As I guess is so often the case in life.

	"Fuck, who's calling at this time?" I remember muttering as Cal's
phone began to ring. For a sudden horrid, half-conscious second I thought
it might be Raph, but then I remembered that Cal hadn't given him his
number so I quickly realised that that couldn't possibly be the case. Then
I recall my husband pulling away from me to exchange a few words with
whoever it was on the other end of the line; before the conversation ended,
and he drew back in for a kiss.

	"Sorry, bud," he sighed, "I'm gonna have to go into work."

	"You're kidding?" I quipped.

	"Matt's phoned in sick and there's a couple of cabs booked in," he
explained.

	"Okay," I sighed. These things happen sometimes. Best just to be
chilled about it.

	Fifteen minutes later and he'd showered and was heading out the
door. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised, leaving me in bed with
a generous smooch on the lips.

	"No worries," I assured him; before slipping back into
unconsciousness again for a couple of hours.

	When I awoke there was still no sign of Cal, so I checked my phone
to find he'd sent me a WhatsApp message. Turns out he was likely to be away
most of the morning.

Fuck, some weekend this was turning out to be. I wouldn't mind, but my head
was now buzzing from the events of the previous evening and I thought it
was important for us to talk.

As I'm sure, for that matter, did Cal.

Still, getting worked up wasn't gonna help matters. Besides, I guess it
provided me with a morning to myself, which in itself gave me something of
an opportune idea.

In short, a trip across to Pimlico, where our friends Steve and Daniel
owned a tearoom.

In fairness, neither Cal or myself had visited the place for quite a while
-- a small, cosy establishment that the two of them had built up from
scratch, and from which they'd successfully set up similar concerns in
Hoxton and Greenwich. As such, poking my head around the door was arguably
long overdue; particularly in light of the developments in both of
relationships. And having made a quick call to check that they'd be there,
I picked up the Northern Line to Stockwell and then headed back up north to
cross the river.

"Hey, Adam!" exclaimed Steve, as I approached the batch of tables outside
the eatery -- which, as per usual for a sunny weekend in the summer, were
pretty heavy laden with people.

"Good morning!" I replied. "It's been a while ..."

I could see he was busy with a couple of customers, so I excused myself and
found an empty space; picking up the menu and noting that it had
changed. Yet again! Honestly, I know I didn't visit as often as I should,
but it really did seem like Daniel issued a new one every two or three
months! That said, for all the changes it was always the same. Breakfasts,
sandwiches, soups, cookies, hot drinks, beverages -- all served all day
long, every day of the year. And always accompanied by the same lively,
friendly bonhomie that my two dear pals always managed so easily.

	I'd met Steve about five years back when they were setting up the
business and were looking for an accountant -- which ultimately proved to
be yours truly. Fact is, I'd not long since gone freelance myself at that
point, so in many ways I was the perfect fit for their profile: young,
independent, fully qualified and (in comparison to the big accountancy
boys) relatively cheap. What's more, we soon struck up quite a decent
acquaintance, aided by the fact that our respective partners also seemed to
get on. But I'll be honest, work had definitely taken its toll on the
camaraderie. Three outlets for our mates were proving arguably a much more
demanding task than perhaps even they anticipated; whilst the professional
demands for Cal and myself were equally unrelenting. As so often in life,
finding the time for such a highly important thing as friendship was never
as easy as any of us would like it to be.

	"Hey, again" Steve laughed, as he approached my table; at which
point I jumped up and we exchanged kisses, continental style. He was a
slightly taller guy than me, and a decade older; but you'd have never
thought he was in his forties. In fact, in many ways he seemed younger than
Daniel, who was six years his junior. But maybe that was down to his
clean-shaven approach, which had also always made Cal seem somewhat
baby-faced if truth be known.

	"I really am sorry I've been so elusive these past few months," I
explained, as we took to our seats. "I know the accounts ticking over, so I
haven't bothered you. But I know our relationship is much more than a
business account, so I really should make more of an effort."

	"Amen to that!" Steve smiled. Somewhat ironically really given that
he was a lapsed Catholic. Actually, let me rephrase that -- a very lapsed
Catholic.

	He once told me how -- in his pre-Daniel days -- he'd shagged his
Mom's priest. Nothing untoward, you understand. Apparently, they met on
some dating site and the rest was soon history.

	Some kinks, it seems, never ceased to amaze.

	"That said," Steve continued, "it takes two to tango. Daniel and I
should make the effort as well. But what with this place and the other
venues, plus what we mentioned the other week, it's just so incredibly
difficult, isn't it?

	"Talking of which," he mooted, drawing himself a little closer,
"how it's all going. Did you manage to get an appointment with Fredrick in
the end?"

	I sighed. "Well, I guess that's one of the reasons I thought I'd
come over and see you, to be honest." At which point Steve promptly stopped
me and we ordered drinks from a passing waiter. A rather young, arguably
cute looking lad, who was surely no older than twenty at most.

	"Sorry about that," he then apologised, glancing back to take a
sneak at the fellow's arse.

	"That's okay," I assured him.

	"Tom's a great guy," he noted, in his usual gossipy manner. "That's
the waiter who just served us."

	"I see ..."

	"Between you and me, Adam, he's a bit of a kinky little bitch!"

	"One of your new conquests, I take it ...?" I teased.

	He tapped the side of his nose. "What happens in our bedroom, stays
in our bedroom."

	"That's probably a very good philosophy," I noted. But I admit the
thought of my two friends shagging the youngster was a bit of a turn-on.

	"Anyway, as you were saying ..."

	"Oh yes," I acknowledged, trying hard to keep focused. "Well, yes,
we did manage to see Fredrick. And yes, you were right. His counsel does
seem to be a bit -- well, unorthodox ..."

	"I take it you were directed to Oscar's ...?"

	"We were indeed. It wasn't quite what I was expecting though."

	Steve looked puzzled. "How so?"

	"Well, say swingers club to me and I tend to think of some seedy
little place in Soho. But it seemed a bit classier than that ..."

	"Were you introduced to Raphael? The boss ..."

	I nodded my head, now quietly wondering whether Steve and Daniel's
experience involved the proprietor, and whether Raph took delight in making
the acquaintance of all Fredrick's recommendations. "We did indeed. To be
honest, Cal took quite a shine to him ..."

	Steve smirked. "Oh, yes? Wants to go black, does he? Well, you know
what they say -- you go black, sweetie, and you ain't coming back!"

	I could feel myself blushing. I'd forgotten what an unashamed
extrovert Steve was -- but I couldn't help but like him. "I take it you
turned that particular option down ...?" I quipped.

	"To be honest, neither of us are that way inclined. Don't think
we're racist or anything. It just doesn't float our boat."

	"Fair enough," I conceded. "Each to their own."

	"Besides, we decided it was far safer to go for the wide and
shallow option, if you know what I mean ..."

	"Explain ..."

	But before Steve got chance to do so, our banter was interrupted by
the return of Tom, the endearing little waiter, who gently placed hot
drinks before us.

	"Can I get you anything else?" he smiled.

	I shook my head. Steve beamed back at the boy. "Not for now." he
teased with a wink.

	"I can see what you mean about him," I observed as the lad trotted
away.

	"Fuck, Adam -- believe me, you definitely feel as old as the guy
you're fucking. And during the past couple of months, I haven't felt a day
above nineteen!"

	Seriously, Steve was a scream!

	"Anyhow, you were saying about this so-called wide and shallow
option," I reminded him.

	"Well, yes, I guess if you're enjoying an open relationship you
have two choices. You either find a third party who becomes a kind of
permanent fixture. In other words, you become a throuple. It doesn't
necessary mean all are equal parties, of course -- you can have two doms
and a sub, or one dom and two subs. However you like to play it really, but
basically it involves one regular addition. Or you go for what I describe
as the wide and shallow option. In other words, enjoying as much cock as
possible. And in a city like this there's plenty of willing cock, I can
assure you!"

	"So, I take it you're on a wild fuck-fest then," I teased.

	"Oh, chance would be a nice thing," he admitted. "To be fair,
Daniel's probably seen more action than me -- but then he's younger, and he
was the one who really pushed for it in the first place. But both of us
have our work cut out with this business, so it's not always that
easy. That's when employing the little horny fuckers becomes a distinct
advantage!"

	"Well, yes," I sighed, "that's not something that's really open to
us. I'm a one man band, so to speak. And Cal works at a garage. I think
some of the guys are hot by all accounts, but it's a bit of a macho
atmosphere by and large. Cal probably sticks out like a sore thumb."

	"Is he out of the closet there yet?"

	I couldn't help but grimace. Fact was it could be a little bit of a
sore subject. "I think he has a close mate there who knows, but he doesn't
broadcast it. Which I do understand ..."

	"Adam, we all have to do what we all have to do," Steve remarked
wisely.

	"Yeah, but sometimes I do feel like a bit of a dirty secret."

	My friend laughed. "Hey! What's wrong with being a dirty secret?
Fuck, the dirtier the better for me!"

	 Like I said, Steve was one of a kind.

	"So," my friend continued, having sipped his coffee, "have Cal and
Raph hooked up yet?"

	"No, not yet. We only visited Oscar's for the first time last
night, so it's very early days. Fredrick was there, as it happens --
apparently he'd come to see the drag act ..."

	"Oh, that woman from HR ..."

	"Jane. Jane from HR."

	"That's the one. She's good. Very good. We've seen her a couple of
times. Daniel knows him. Him? Her? I never quite know. But no, she's
really, really good."

	"Anyway, Fredrick introduced us to Raph. At that point we didn't
know he was the owner. Cal had hooked up with a couple of guys on the dance
floor, but nothing major. Then we met Raph, and the two of them really
seemed to hit it off."

	"And what about you?" Steve asked, suddenly seeming a little more
serious. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

	"Well, it's early days," I admitted. "I'm hoping we can find a nice
balance, like you seem to have done. But it's a big thing, don't you
think?"

	"Massive! Which by all accounts is the best description of what
that Raphael's got in his pants. Honestly, Adam, I hope you're up for a bit
of healthy competition!"

	I laughed; but I have to be honest I wasn't laughing inside. It was
all very well to talk about Raph's potentially monstrous member when Cal
and I were horned up and pretty much ready for anything, but in the cold
light of day it seemed a very different story. Especially now I had Steve
joking about it like my emotions were something trivial that could be
ignored.

	And in fairness my friend clearly picked up on the vibe. "Hey,
joking aside," he continued, "this is a big thing, like you say. It's not
something that two guys like you and Cal should embark on lightly. If this
isn't handled properly then it could destroy you. And neither Daniel nor I
would ever want to see that. You both mean way too much to us."

	I blushed. "Thanks, Steve," I smiled. "I think Cal and I just need
to talk things through more."

	"Definitely. What is it again? Honesty and communication. That's
what's important here.

	"Talking of which," he added, "I have to admit I was a bit
surprised when you said you two were having problems. You've always seemed
like the perfect fit together."

	"I guess I've always been a bit too boring for Cal," I
confessed. "And before you say it, yes, I am an accountant so what else
should anyone expect?"

	"Hey, it's not about being boring. Cal loves you. I think we all
know that. He's just clearly got it into his head that extra dick makes for
a more exciting life. And it can. Seriously, it can -- if handled
correctly. But just make sure it doesn't go to his head, excuse the
pun. And keep talking. Every single day. Don't be shy to say anything and
everything that comes to mind. And don't bottle anything up. Anything! You
hear me?"

	"Loud and clear, Dad," I teased.

	"Fuck off!" Steve retorted, in his usual merry manner.

	And of course, my friend was right -- in everything he said. This
wasn't something that we could just talk about once and then proceed with
without so much as another word. We had to be closer and more intimate and
more open to each other than ever before. Otherwise, resentments would
fester, and we'd end up hating each other in exactly the same way as Cal
claimed he never wanted to happen when we'd first embarked on this great
adventure.

	But of course, only time would tell if we were strong enough, brave
enough even, to live up to these great resolutions. Only time would tell
...





CHAPTER SEVEN



	I told Cal I'd been over to Pimlico that morning almost as soon as
he got back from work. But I'll be honest with you, I didn't say anything
about what Steve had said about the rumours concerning Raph's cock.

	Yes, I know, I was omitting information already. Not a good sign.

	But truthfully, the thought that Cal was only interested in going
after bigger -- and presumably better! -- cock did sting me somewhat.

	Though at the same time, it also genuinely turned me on.

	And not just a little bit. Actually, quite a lot. Much more than it
arguably should have done.

	Still, as I'd long since known, you couldn't help what turned you
on. Even if it was other men, when all the world told you that it was women
you should be attracted to.

	I'd known pretty early on that I was gay. Probably by the age of
ten or eleven. Certainly before I went to secondary school. But I was
seventeen before I came out to anyone and had gone to university before I
said anything to my parents. I'd like to say they were fine with it and
that it had never been an issue since, but that would probably be being a
little too upbeat. I recognised their disappointment, even if there was no
disapproval. I knew I was not the son they had wanted me to be. And even
now, some fifteen years or more on, it could still barb.

	Nevertheless, I was also aware that my experience was nothing
compared to what Cal had been through. Honest to God, I'd had the red
carpet treatment in comparison. Fact is, he'd struggled badly to come to
terms with who he was throughout his teenage years and didn't say a thing
to either of his parents until he met me. At which point I kind of casually
assumed that they'd be just be like my folks, disappointed but
accepting. In reality, however, they displayed the kind of bigotry that
it's hard to imagine still exists in the twenty-first century, and for at
least twelve months didn't even have any contact with my husband. Even cut
him out of their will. To make matters worse, these same people claimed to
be Christians. People who were filled with the all-powerful love of God in
their souls, when in fact I could see nothing but hatred and
condemnation. And whilst relations had improved somewhat of late, and his
parents had attended our wedding, there was little point denying that
relations were strained. And chances were, always would be.

	Despite the fact that Cal had never chosen to be gay. He was, as
Lady Gaga says, simply born this way. Just like me.

	"So how was work?" I quipped, after he'd popped into the shower to
clean off.

	"Nothing special," he admitted, tossing himself down onto the sofa
whilst I prepared a sandwich for lunch. "Still," he sighed, "think of the
money ..."

	"True," I agreed; although as we both knew it was me who was the
main provider in this home. If anything, what Cal brought home was always
pocket money. But let's face it, it was a nice position to be in.

	"So, Cal," I continued, "can I ask a question? As part of our open
conversation policy ..."

	He looked a little coy, perhaps unsure as to what I was going to
say.

	"I've just been thinking about things and I was wondering -- are
there any black guys where you work?"

	My husband looked perplexed. "Well, yeah. I mean there's Chris,
he's black. And Nathan."

	"You ever fancied them?"

	"Not specifically, no. To be honest, Chris wouldn't be my type at
all. Quite frankly, he's an ugly fucker. Sorry, just being straight with
you."

	"I like it that you're straight with me. I always want you to be
straight with me. Now more than ever."

	"What's brought this on, anyway?" he quizzed.

	I finished slicing the sarnies. "Nothing, I'm just curious about
this interest in black cock all of a sudden, that's all ..."

	"I just found Raph sexy. And he happens to be black."

	I smiled. "Well, it looks like your suspicions might be right," I
remarked.

	"Suspicions?"

	"According to Steve, Raph is indeed hung like a donkey."

	Cal looked startled. "Have him and Daniel been --"

	"No, no, nothing like that!" I interjected. "It just seems to be
common knowledge, that's all."

	"You thinking I knew this before we met? You thinking I'd seen him
on Grindr?"

	"No," I insisted. To be honest, I hadn't actually thought of
that. But in all honesty, I didn't quite see Raphael as being the Grindr
type.

	Then again, sometimes people are full of surprises. As Cal had
proved with this interest in black dick.

	"Look," he carried on, as I handed him his lunch, "I just found him
a really nice guy to be with. He danced well. He chatted me up nicely. And
I have to say he was very gentlemanly. Reminded me a little bit of you,
actually ..."

	"Just a black version. Is that what you're looking for? A black
replacement?"

	"No, Ad. I'm not looking for a replacement at all."

	"Well only the other week you said you wanted a divorce."

	Finally, he snapped. Thrusting his plate onto the nearby coffee
table.

"Look, I've said I'm sorry about that. How many more fucking times have I
got to say it? And how many more fucking times are you gonna keep bringing
the subject up?"

	"Okay, sorry," I apologised, sitting down at the other end of the
sofa. "I promise I won't mention it again. But it did hurt me," I added.

	"So you've said. At least a thousand times."

	"I'm just being honest. We need to be honest."

	"Okay," he sighed, crossing his arms determinedly. "How about
you're honest with me?"

	"In what way?"

	"Well, how about you admit that you like the idea of watching me
getting fucked by someone else? How about you admit that you really like
the idea of watching me getting fucked by big black cock?"

	I didn't say a word.

	"Well ...?" he finally cajoled.

	I bit my lip. "Cal -- this is hard."

	"No-one ever said marriage would be easy."

	"No-one ever said my husband would think marriage involved fucking
other men."

	He leaned towards me. "Adam, I'm just gonna say this once, okay? If
you really don't want to go ahead with this then just say so and we'll
forget it. Alright? It's a nice fantasy, but --"

	"No!" I interposed -- perhaps too keenly. "No, I want to try
it. See where it goes ..."

	"You sure?"

	"I'm sure."

	"Because if you're not sure, now's the time to say it."

	I paused, trying to think over what I wanted to tell him. "To be
honest, Cal, I'd never thought of the idea of us doing anything like this
before. So, it's all come as a bit of a shock. But now that I've thought
about it, now that I've seen you enjoying yourself the way you did last
night, I really want to try it. And I'd regret it if we didn't."

	Of course, I might also regret it if -- no, when -- we did. But
that was another story.

	He sighed, leaning back into the cushions on the chair as he did
so, and fishing into his pocket for his phone. "Okay then," he began,
slowly nodding his head and clearly trying to supress the inner smile that
was clearly bursting to get through, "do you want me to give him a call?"

	Oh fuck, I thought, this was the moment of no return. This was
probably the last opportunity for me to chicken out without it causing too
much of a fracas between us. Not that Cal would be happy if I did pull the
emergency break, so to speak -- I just had to look at him to know that he
was very, very excited at the prospect of getting in touch with the guy! --
but at least here and now it would be done so with minimum
embarrassment. Without us having what could prove to be a
relationship-killing set-piece.

	Not that I actually thought that this was a train that could be
stopped, if I'm honest ...

	"Actually," I motioned, "let's eat our lunch before we call him,
shall we ...?"

	Cal slipped his mobile onto the table. "Sure," he agreed; but I
could tell he was just a smidgeon disappointed, and that he'd think of
nothing else as we ate.

	"We will call him," I assured my man, eager to keep Cal's spirit
up. "I just one last chat about all this. You know, just to be absolutely
sure. I want you to tell me what you think Raph has got that he can give
us, which we don't already have ourselves.

	"Other than the fucking obvious," I snapped, aware that the term
BBC would immediately get raised!

	"I mean, why not any of the other guys in that club last night. Why
him ...?"

	Cal took a bite of his cheese and tomato butty, clutching the
opportunity to think.

	"Okay," he finally nodded, "you want me to be honest?"

	"Always. How many times have we said it these past few weeks?"

	"Right, well -- he just had this air about him."

	"Air?"

	"Charisma, I suppose."

	"He definitely had charisma, I'll give you that. But there must
have been something that you noticed about him that really marked him off
from everyone else?"

	He paused for a moment, as if to think a tad more. "He was sure of
himself."

	"Cocky?" I teased.

	"No, not like that at all. But you could just tell he had a
confidence about him."

	"You think he's naturally dominant?"

	Cal nodded his head. "Yes, I would say so. I might be wrong, but I
think he likes to be in charge. And that's something I like in a man. You
know that."

	That was true. I'd always been the leading character in our
story. The one who'd made the first moves. The one who'd given that extra
bit of boost to our relationship. The one who'd always brought home the
most money. And yes, I knew Cal liked the role that all that forged for
him. I didn't like the word `submissive' -- it made someone sound weak. But
in that respect my husband would always enjoy being led, rather than
leading. It was one of the reasons why he would always work for someone
else; whilst I had had the courage to set off on my own and set up my own
business.

	"And," he continued, "I liked what he said about not being into a
normal one-on-one relationship. The fact that he'd like a boyfriend who was
married to someone else."

	"You want to be his boyfriend now?" I teased.

	"No!" he insisted. "But I think someone like that would definitely
add to our relationship, rather than take anything away. The very fact that
we are married and have our own intimate relationship is the very thing
that would keep him interested. If that makes sense ..."

	"Yes, it makes sense. But you don't think that there would come a
point where even this arrangement would get boring? When being part of some
kind of throuple just seemed lacklustre as well? And then you'd have to be
looking for even more excitement?"

	Cal looks a bit baffled. "What the fuck's a throuple?" he quipped.

	"Oh," I laughed, easing the tension of the moment a little bit, "it
was some term that Steve used when I saw him this morning. It's basically a
three-way relationship. I mean, of course, that's the thing here
really. Are you just looking for a bit of fun with all of this? Or do you
want something a bit more serious? A throuple, so to speak ...?"

	"I don't know, Ad," he admitted. "I genuinely don't know. I just
think maybe Raph would represent a little more stability than me going off
and picking up any random guy ..."

	"Like off Grindr?" I jibed.

	"Exactly. But then what do you think?" he declared, kicking the
ball back to me. "What would you prefer?"

	I took a deep breath, as if to buy myself a little more time. "I
can see dangers in both options," I finally conceded. "And the biggest
danger to me in someone like Raph is you're gonna build up an emotional
attachment with him, and that eventually ..."

	I paused, suddenly unable to bring myself to speak.

	"You okay?" he asked, putting his plate to one side, and pulling
himself up towards me.

	"Yeah," I chocked, as emotions flitted through my head. "I'm just
worried, that's all."

	"That I'm gonna leave you?" he remarked.

	I nodded my head.

	"I'm not gonna leave you, Ad. I promise ..."

	"I know, but --" At which point I was going to mention him wanting
a divorce. Again!

	Fortunately, I stopped myself in time.

	"I think maybe now's not the right time for all of this," he
accepted. "Let's leave it a little bit, shall we? See what happens ..."

	"No," I insisted. "No, I think this is something we both want ..."

	"Both?" he teased, looking straight into my damp, blue eyes.

	"Yes, I think we both want it deep down. And I think we both know
that Raph is the guy that we need."

	"Adam ...?" he quipped. He didn't use my full name very often, so I
knew he was going to say something deadly serious or inappropriately
flippant.

	"Yes ...?"

	"You've never said you were into black guys before ..." he joked,
repeating almost exactly what I'd said to him the previous evening.

	I laughed, and the tension between us immediately appeared to
ease. "I've never been conscious of it ..." I teased in return. Mimicking
his own response.

	We hugged each other tight, both knowing that we needed each other
more than ever now if this was going to be anything other than an
unmitigated disaster.

	And in that sense Fredrick was wrong. All this didn't just hinge on
honesty and communication. It also depended on us both being there for each
other. And trusting one another.

	Factors that we were going to work on big time as we moved ahead.

	"Come on," I urged now, pulling away, "get your phone. You got his
card?"

	Cal reached for the table. "No need. I've put it in already ..."

	"Oh, you have, have you?" I jibed. "Getting ahead of yourself, were
you?"

	He shook his head. "No, it's not like that at all. But I just
thought I might lose the card, that's all ..."

	"Unlikely," I replied. "I'm usually the messy one."

	"True," he agreed. The cheeky bastard! But I loved him all the
same. More than he would ever, ever know.

	"So," he finally sighed, "we gonna do this or what?"

	At last, the Rubicon had been reached. From now on, there was
simply no going back. "Yes, let's do it," I agreed.

	Cal flicked through his contacts. Located Raph and pressed the
phone symbol. Then flicked on the loud-speaker and rested his phone on the
table.

	My heart was pounding in my chest at this point, as if I'd done six
rounds of cardiac workout at the gym. Was it excitement? Was it nerves?
Perhaps a bit of both. But I felt quite sure that Cal was feeling exactly
the same way, as the squeak in his voice testified when Raph answered his
call about five or six rings later.

	"Raph Fuller," he began somewhat bluntly. Clearly that was his
style.

	"Hi!" Cal began apprehensively. "Hi, Raph. This is Cal from last
night. Cal Wilkinson ..."

	"Oh, Cal!" our friend replied, suddenly sounding a lot more
chilled. "Sorry, I didn't recognise the number. Obviously. Hey, how's it
hanging? You and Adam both well?"

	Cal glanced across at me with somewhat expectant eyes. "Yes, we're
fine thanks."

	"I have to say, Cal, I really enjoyed last night. Really enjoyed
it. I hope you guys did too."

	"Yes," my hubby confirmed -- no doubt whilst sporting the same kind
of massive hard-on by this stage as I was! "We had a great time ..."

	"Cool," he sighed. "It was just a shame you had to leave so
early. I'd have loved to have got to know you both much better. But hey,
maybe another time ..."

	"Well yes," Cal agreed. "Actually, that's why I'm calling. I was
thinking -- we were both thinking! -- that maybe we could meet up again. If
you're interested ..."

	"That would be fantastic, Cal. Yes, I'd love that. When were you
thinking ...?"

	"Well, when are you free?"

	He paused. "Well, have you guys got any plans for tonight? I said
I'd go the club, but I can cancel. I don't need to be there."

	"Ah right," Cal stuttered, unsure of where we'd be meeting if not
at Oscar's. "Sure, but where would you wanna meet?"

	"Well, why don't the three of us go for a meal together. My shout."

	"No, that's not fair," Cal protested.

	"No, I insist. I know quite a nice little restaurant near Charing
Cross. Could you guys make it there for, say, eight o'clock ...?"

	My husband glanced across at me, and I nodded my head in approval.

	"Yes, that should be okay."

	"Alright, good. You on WhatsApp?"

	Cal confirmed that he was.

	"Cool. I'll drop you the address."

	"Thanks."

	"I'll see you guys at eight o'clock, then."

	"Great," said Cal, clearly becoming increasingly lost for words.

	"Oh, and Cal ...?"

	"Yes ...?"

	"I meant what I said. I really am looking forward to getting to
know you both much better. Much, much better ..." he teased sexily.

	Fuck, I honestly thought I was gonna cum in my pants!

	"See you later," Cal managed to muster -- in much the same
predicament as me. At which point the line dropped off.

	Neither of us spoke. Rather we just glanced at each other
knowingly.

	Less than a minute later we were quite literally fucking like
rabbits on the sofa.

	Within three minutes, I reckon, I'd creamed Cal's arse, and he'd
shot another obscenely monstrous load all over the sofa covers!

	Fuck man, had we got it bad -- or what?



CHAPTER EIGHT



	I don't think the term nervous excitement could have been more
accurately defined than during those final few hours before our second
encounter with Raph. What's more, the fact that Cal and I were both subject
to it made the situation even more intense than might otherwise have been
the case.

	Truth is, despite all the reservations that I had displayed prior
to this point, we were already now firmly keyed into this adventure. For
better or for worse.

	Which kind of brings me to the wedding vows that we'd exchanged
with each other just three years previous.

	Because I'll be totally honest, there was an element of guilt
starting to encircle me with all of this. And no, before you think
otherwise, I wasn't a Catholic like Steve. Lapsed, or otherwise.

	Far from it. In fact, I wouldn't actually describe myself as
religious at all. Indeed, I don't think I could actually remember the last
time I ever entered a church.

	Nevertheless, I'd taken my wedding vows seriously -- as I feel
everyone entering marriage should -- and nothing had made me prouder than
to stand in front of our families and friends to witness my lifelong
devotion to the man that I loved.

	And yet now, here I was just a few years later, sanctioning their
violation.

	Or was it their enhancement? The lines were already starting to get
increasingly blurred.

	However, this sense that we were perhaps crossing something of a
line did result in Cal and I agreeing a very important ground rule that
afternoon. That no matter what happened, our marital bed was
sacrosanct. That was our place, and our place only; and no-one else would
ever join us there. Period, as the Americans would say. A non-negotiable,
set-in-stone condition that we would both adhere to come hell or high
water.

	Only time would tell how resolute that ambition might prove to be.

	For the meantime, we could but hope for the best in maintaining
that decision.

	Not that there was much sign of resolve being demonstrated by
either of us right now, it must be said. Fact is, we were more akin to a
couple of horned-up alley-cats than rational adult men, and that didn't
bode well. Hard dicks rarely make sound judgments, after all.

	Indeed, I for one knew that if we weren't too careful, we could
both be hastily cruising straight into disaster; and my only hope was that
Rafe would prove to be as gentlemanly as he'd appeared the previous
night. Preferring not to take advantage of us being Oscar's virgins, as
Fredrick had so eagerly and amusingly informed him.

	Still, we wouldn't have long to find out.

	To say that I didn't feel nauseous as we stepped up to ground level
at Charing Cross tube station would be a gross dereliction of narration,
but I took comfort in the knowledge that Cal felt exactly the same way. And
besides, whatever happened in the next few hours, I could at least
appreciate that my husband was looking absolutely fucking gorgeous
tonight. I mean we'd both made the effort -- donning plush shirts, silk
ties and smart trousers -- but Cal had really excelled himself, looking
every inch the sultry, sexy companion that he always was when it
mattered. Indeed, I couldn't help but be reminded of our wedding day when
the fellow had looked so stunning that it had almost taken my breath
away. As utterly corny as that might sound!

	Yeah, no doubt about it, he was about as far away from being a
grease-monkey tonight as it was possible to get!

	That said, I'd always have a weakness for his musky workwear,
perverse as that might sound.

	We timed ourselves perfectly, I do have to say, arriving at our
appointed venue just as the clocks were striking the hour; and were
immediately ushered in by a very expectant young lady, who even seemed to
know our names and who we were there to see.

	Moments later, and we were being escorted through the main body of
the restaurant, and then immediately upstairs; to find Raph stood waiting
for us in what appeared to be an empty room.

	"Geez," I sighed, noting so many empty tables -- all neatly
dressed, but without a single customer in sight. "Have we got the floor to
ourselves or something?"

	"Absolutely we have," our host declared, looking even more
unbelievably impressive than I think either Cal or myself remembered from
just twenty-four hours previous. "I wanted to make sure that we had a
little bit of privacy. And anyway," he continued, pointing in the direction
of a table situated next to the window, "we weren't massively overbooked
tonight, so it wasn't too much of a problem getting everyone squeezed in
downstairs ..."

	"Sorry," I stuttered, a little bit puzzled by the implications of
what he had just said. "Do you mean this is your restaurant?"

	He gave a toothy, very satisfied smile. "Yeah - lock, stock and
barrel," he exclaimed, repeating what he'd said the night before at
Oscar's. "Actually," he continued, "there's a little bit of a mortgage on
this place, but nothing majorly significant."

	"You're clearly a very rich man," I acknowledged.

	"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he insisted. "Though, of course, true
riches are contained in the friends that you have. And looking at you two
fine gentlemen tonight I think I am clearly a very rich man indeed!"

	Geez, he was such a charmer. No wonder Cal had been bowled over by
him.

	That said, he was pretty damn fine himself. Seriously, I don't
think I'd really thought twice about black guys in the past, but believe me
Raph was something very, very special.

	So special, in fact, that it seemed as though my husband was lost
for words. Honestly, he hadn't so much as uttered a word since we'd
arrived; though the bulge in the crotch of his trousers told me there was
absolutely nothing wrong with him.

	"Please, take a seat," he now encouraged, as I noted the table had
two places on one side and just the one place on the other.

	"Would you like me to take the seat on its own?" I quipped
compliantly.

	Raph smiled. "You don't have to, of course," he insisted. "But it
might be nice if Cal and I could sit next to one another, yes. Assuming Cal
doesn't have any objection ..."

	"No, no," my husband finally brokered. Geez, he could speak after
all!

	"Excellent," Raph declared, as we finally all found ourselves in
our rightful positions. At which point he immediately motioned for a waiter
to come and take our drinks order.

	"I want you to eat and drink whatever takes your fancy tonight," he
generously insisted. "No going Dutch or anything like that, the pleasure is
all mine. That said, it'd be nice if Cal here doesn't overdo things too
much. After all, I'm hoping it's chocolate for afters ..."

	The three of couldn't help but laugh. In truth I think Cal and I
would've happily taken chocolate for starters -- or main or dessert! But
hey, it was best we paced ourselves under the circumstances.

	"So then," he began, as the wine began to flow, "tell me about
yourselves. Were you specifically attracted to the interracial side of
things? Or is that just something that seems to have developed on meeting
me?"

	There he was, straight to the point. But to be honest, I liked that
kind of guy. Raph knew exactly why we'd contacted him, and he clearly
didn't see any point in not discussing the matter there and then. No doubt
about it, it was better than skirting around the issue and pretending that
we were all just there for our health and beauty.

	And for the next half an hour or so the two of us basically told
him our story. During which time I must confess I'd already downed a little
too much wine on an empty stomach.

	"I must say I really did like the pair of you when we met
yesterday," he finally admitted. "As I told you, normal one-on-one
relationships just don't work for me. I've tried on several occasions and
it's failed each time. Fact is, my ideal boyfriend is one who's married to
another guy, which I must say makes Cal here the perfect candidate.

	"Not that I'm trying to pressurise anyone," he quickly
added. "Seriously, we can go as quickly or as slow as you guys want to
go. The last thing I want to do is jeopardise what you two fellas have got
going, I can assure you."

	Believe me, that was music to my ears. One of the biggest fears I'd
got in all this was that Raph was gonna steamroller the pair of us into
submission, but that didn't appear to be his objective whatsoever. Assuming
he was being genuine, of course. Given the fact that we'd only just met
him, and the fact that I was a tad bit intoxicated, it was actually
difficult to tell.

	"Anyway," he continued, "I'm being very, very presumptuous. And I
sincerely hope that you can forgive me, Cal. I mean seriously, you don't
really know a thing about me, and I'm already assuming that you're looking
for a boyfriend. I guess in reality you guys were just looking for a
fuck-buddy, and if that's the case then that's absolutely perfect. I don't
have an issue at all."

	"No, no," Cal interjected, "it's fine. To be fair, we weren't
really looking for anything that serious -- but who knows? I mean, Ad and I
would have to talk about it all --"

	"We'd have to talk about it all a lot I think," I wisely added.

	"Yes," my husband continued, "we would definitely. But let's see
how it goes ..."

	"One step at a time," I smiled, keen to ensure that the
metaphorical cards were placed very clearly on the figurative table.

	"Couldn't agree more," Raph agreed. "Quite honestly, I've always
walked before I can run. That's the kind of man I am. It's basically how
I've built up a bit of a business empire, if truth be known. Taken the
early gamble, and all that. And sometimes it's worked and sometimes it
hasn't ..."

	"I'd say it's definitely worked," I noted.

	He laughed. "Oh, it's not always been this good," he remarked.

	"Tell us, then," I urged. "Cal and I want to know all about you
..."

	Which, of course, provided the fellow with the perfect pitch to
tell us his story. Of how he'd grown up in leafy Surrey, gone to University
to study medicine, decided being a doctor wasn't for him, and then gone
into business instead. First with his brother, with whom he had nearly gone
bankrupt. Then on his own, when he'd met with a great deal more
success. Leading to him establishing Oscar's, as well as picking up a
couple of properties to turn into eating-houses.

	By which time we'd pretty much consumed starters and mains and were
looking forward to something sweet. Fortunately, I'd eased off the Merlot
by this point, so I was feeling just a little bit more in control. Just as
well, really, given that I'd got the sense that things were gonna start to
get more intense from this point onwards.

	Introductions were over, as it were; and it would soon be time for
us to meet the meat!

	"Adam," Raph sighed, having shown amazing restraint all evening,
"would you mind if I kissed your husband? Sorry, I've been dying to do it
all evening, but I thought it best to wait until we'd satisfied our
physical hunger first."

	"You don't have to keep asking," I quipped. "As long as Cal's happy
with it, so am I."

	He turned to my hubby. "Can I kiss you, Cal?" he enquired.

	"Of course, you can," came back the happy response.

	Raph turned back to look me straight in the eye. "In which case, I
won't be asking you again," he warned somewhat masterfully. "Just so that
know ..."

	And with that he suavely placed his fingers under Cal's chin,
lifted my husband's face a fraction, and sank his lips down to enjoy a
lingering kiss. A very sensuous, erotic display that, I'll be one hundred
honest with you, had my cock quite literally throbbing instantaneously in
my pants.

	What's more, Raph didn't stop there. Before I knew it, he'd charmed
Cal into opening his mouth to allow him to dart his meaty, probing tongue
inside. Placing his heavy, manly hand behind the lad's head so as not to
give him any chance to escape. Not that Cal wanted to, I'm quite sure; and
I could quite imagine the sticky, quivering mess that was now aching away
in his hairless crotch.

	"You are such a good kisser," the black dude exclaimed, when at
last the two guys separated. "And that's something I really love. Kissing,
cuddling, being intimate. I bet you two dudes do that a lot, don't you
...?"

	We both nodded our heads. "We like to be close, yes," Cal admitted.

	"I can tell," he noted. "You don't get to be as good as kissing as
that without practice." And with that he proceeded to take another dive
into Cal's face.

	Mind, it very quickly became apparent to me that it wasn't just my
husband's lips that Raph was interested in. Given the position of his right
hand I reckoned there was a very good chance that the guy was taking a very
generous grope of Cal's more intimate quarters; and there was a part of me
that really wanted to deliberately drop something on the floor so that I
could reach down and sneak a look. Yeah, I know, the oldest trick in the
book perhaps; but by now I was so horned up and had such a fucking stonking
hard-on in my pants that I was prepared to stoop to such levels. Quite
literally!

	And believe me, what I saw didn't disappoint. Raph had managed to
unzip my hubby's zipper and was eagerly pushing his fingers for a
determined feel; clearly forgetting the fact that we were actually sat in a
restaurant, and that the appearance of a waiter was not beyond a
possibility.

	Fortunately, their brutal wave of passion had subsided a little by
the time that we were finally interrupted with the arrival of the dessert
menu; though by now I don't think any of us were really interested in
food. A point that Raph was only too eager to underline to his underling;
declaring that maybe it was about time the three of us retired upstairs.

	"Upstairs?" I quipped, unaware that there was such a place.

	"Oh yes, I have an apartment above here," Raph explained. "It's not
actually where I live -- that's over by Victoria -- and usually it's rented
out. But it's between tenants at the moment, so if you two guys are
interested then maybe we can make ourselves comfortable up there ...

	"No pressure though," he quickly added. "If you wanna head home
then honestly there'll be no hard feelings at all.

"Although obviously," he joked, "it's actually hard feelings I kind of
assumed we were all hoping for!"

Cal and I laughed, but if I'm honest nerves were already starting to kick
in. I mean it was one thing to imagine what this kind of situation was
going to be like, to fantasise in your head about hooking up with a
stranger and enjoying a bit of extra-marital fun. It was something
completely different to be actually confronted with it, however. To realise
that you were probably about to see your husband doing things with another
man that you always assumed he would only ever do with you, and you alone.

"We can go as little or as far as you guys want," he assured us, no doubt
reading the look of concern on my face. "It's totally up to you. Maybe it's
best if we go up and have a coffee first. Sober ourselves up a little, and
maybe decide what you feel comfortable in doing. What do you think?"

Of course, I knew damn well that it was a deliberate snare of an offer, and
that once we were ensconced upstairs it was gonna be difficult -- if not
impossible -- for either of us to resist. Especially Cal, who I could
clearly see was struggling to disguise his disappointment at the thought of
me backing out at the last moment. That said, I was quite sure that any
attempt by me to backtrack would quickly be met by his intransigence. That
he would refuse to come with me and decide to play with Raph instead. And
whilst the black guy said a straight one-on-one with someone else didn't do
it for him, I was quite sure he wouldn't turn such an offer down. No, he'd
have his fun -- and all I'd end up doing is missing the ensuing action, not
to mention running the risk of driving a great big wedge between me and the
man that I loved.

No, the truth was that I felt I'd limited choice now but to go along with
what Cal wanted, whether I liked it or not. That said, when push came to
shove, I wouldn't have turned down this opportunity for the world!

It shouldn't really come as any great surprise that the open-plan
accommodation upstairs was as plush and well-presented as everything else
we'd seen relating to Raph -- it seemed to be all in his nature, after
all. A man who enjoyed and relished the finer things in life. Including my
husband, who he immediately invited to take a seat on the sofa, whilst
directing me to an armchair to the side.

"Cappuccino, both of you?" he asked, to which we both nodded our agreement.

"So, tell me, Adam," he then continued, stepping into the accompanying
kitchen to flick on the coffeemaker, "what line of work are you in?"

"I'm an accountant," I explained. "I used to work for a blue-chip, but now
I'm independent."

He nodded his head. "Interesting," he mulled. "Fully qualified I take it?"

"Absolutely," I confirmed. "Chartered Institute."

"Impressive," he observed. "Your books full, or are you ever still
interested in new clients?"

"I never turn down business," I explained.

"No, you never should," he advised, continuing to concentrate on the
drinks.

"And you, Cal," he continued. "You're a car mechanic, if I remember ..."

"Yep, that's me," my husband beamed.

Raph glanced across at him. "You don't seem like a mechanic, if you don't
mind me saying."

"Don't I?" Cal quizzed.

"No, you're a bit too well-spoken. And your hands are soft ..."

	"They're soft because he wears gloves all the time," I interjected.

	Raph gave a hearty laughed. "That explains it. Well, so long as
it's just his hands that are soft -- that right, Adam?"

	 I smiled. "Well, I've never had any complaints," I teased,
flashing a wink towards Cal, who gave a somewhat embarrassed grin in
return. If there was one thing I knew about my husband right now it was
that he was most definitely hard in all the right places!

	Cappuccinos distributed, and Raph finally joined Cal on the
sofa. Discretely positioning himself within striking distance of the
fellow, leaving me to note how diminutive my hubby looked in comparison to
our host's beefy, muscled frame. Add the obvious difference in skin tone
between the two guys, and I couldn't help but get even more of a
horn. Seriously, there was something maddeningly hot about the rich, almost
luxuriant contrast; and for once I could almost understand why so many
straight white guys seemed to be obsessed with interracial porn. Believe
me, seeing them sat next to one another was almost intoxicating.

	"So, guys," Raph began, putting his drink to one side, "what's your
favourite position when it comes to sex? I take it you usually bottom, Cal?
And you, Adam, I guess you top?"

	"That's generally the way it goes," I casually explained, noting
just how surreal this situation and this conversation seemed to be. I mean,
here we were, supping coffee and discussing intimate aspects of our sex
life with a relative stranger. How utterly bizarre was that?

	"And I take it you bareback?" he quizzed.

	"Always," Cal confirmed. "We've never slept with anyone else whilst
we've been together, so condoms haven't ever been necessary."

	"Well," he began, "I think I need to tell you both now, I hate
condoms. For one thing I can never find any that fit me -- yes, I know that
sounds a bit boastful, but it's the truth. For another, it just totally
kills the pleasure, don't you think? No, it's got to be raw every time for
me ..."

	Okay, so that pretty much confirmed what we'd suspected about the
generous proportions of Raph's dick; but right there and then that wasn't
my immediate concern!

	"That's as maybe," I protested, concerned as to where this
conversation was going, "but I'm not sure that's gonna be possible with
us. Not being funny about it, but our sexual health is important to both of
us. I really hope you understand, but we can't risk that. Not for anyone."

	He smiled, displaying his fine set of pearly white teeth -- which
in some respects annoyed me, I have to confess.

	"What's wrong?" I quizzed, somewhat defensively.

	"Well, I knew you were going to say something like that. In fact,
I'd have been a bit concerned if you hadn't. You're right, your health is
important. Very important. Which is why I went to the effort of having a
full STD test this morning just in case you happened to make contact."

	Fuck he was cocky. But do you know what? I still liked him,
strangely enough.

	"Can you get results that quickly?" Cal enquired.

	"You can privately, yes," he assured us. "And the good news is that
I'm one hundred percent clean. Not that I expected to be anything else."

	"That's good to hear," I assured him. "Thank you."

	"It's good to be able to tell you," Raph agreed, flicking the
screen on his mobile. "Look," he said, holding it up to Cal as evidence,
"here you are -- all clear. Which means, Cal, that when at some point
you're screaming out for all you're worth as I pound your arse with my ten
inch black mamba, you and your pliant little husband here won't have to
worry about you leaving with anything other than an ass-load of prime black
spunk."

	I almost gasped at his nerve -- but believe me, how he said all
that was fucking hot!

	Cal, on the other hand, was looking a tad uncertain. "Did you say
ten inches?" he exclaimed.

	Raph gave a teasing rub of his own crotch. "Cal, if there's one
thing you've got to learn about me, it's that I don't lie. I say it like it
is, and that's never gonna change. So, get used to it."

	My husband had never been as vocal as I could be. I wouldn't
exactly say he was a man of few words because that wouldn't be the truth,
but he definitely wasn't a guy who would use ten words when five would do,
especially in the company of people he didn't know too well. Nevertheless,
on this occasion he was quite evidently almost speechless.

	"That sounds -- big ..." he finally muttered.

	He nodded his head. "That's generally the conclusion I seem to get
from folks, yes."

	A sudden silence seemed to descend upon the room. All three of us
trapped in our own thoughts no doubt. Each one aware that we had finally
got to the point where things started to get acutely sexual between us, but
every one of us seemingly unwilling to be the one who fired the gun.

	"Do you want me to get it out for you, Cal, so you can see for
yourself ...?" Raph finally suggested, rubbing the undeniably handsome
mound between his legs.

	I almost thought I heard my husband emit an audible gulp. Perhaps
he was getting cold feet? Maybe he was thinking he'd bitten off more than
he could chew ...?

	"Erm ... well, yes," he finally squeaked.

	Raph casually finished his drink. "It will be my pleasure," he
admitted. "But before I do, I have a bit of a question for you both. A
point of clarification if you like ..."

	Cal and I glanced at one another. Both of us intrigued by the
fellow's request.

	"I wanna know that you're both completely happy with all of this,"
he insisted. "I mean I can see you're a bit nervous, Cal, and I can
understand why. But I get the impression this was all your idea and that
you're looking forward to having a bit of fun. Well, a lot of fun actually!

	"But what about you, Adam?" he promptly questioned, turning to look
at me directly with those dark brown, probing eyes of his. "Are you
absolutely sure you're signed up for all this?"

	I nodded my head. "Yes," I admitted, "We've both talked about it a
lot over the past couple of weeks, and we definitely want to have some fun
..."

	He screwed his face slightly. "You say we. I meant you
personally. I mean you're the husband in all of this. You're gonna see Cal
doing things that you might never have even dreamt of. Maybe not
tonight. In fact, almost certainly not tonight. It's one step at a time,
like you said. But -- not wanting to sound boastful again -- he will get
more and more into black dick. That happens more and more with white boys
in his position. And he will change. Are you happy about that?"

	I smiled nervously. My head spinning -- a little from the alcohol
I'd previously consumed, a little from the sheer intensity of the moment
and from what Raph was saying. "Well, I guess I won't know until we get
there, I guess," I admitted.

	"True," Raph acknowledged. "But I gotta warn you, bro, you've
probably got the hardest part in all of this. It'd probably be easier if
the pair of you just simply wanted to get banged by black dick, but I don't
think that's the case. At least for the moment. No, Cal here wants to enjoy
himself, and you have been strong enough to let him. Which, of course, for
you means letting go. Controlling the jealousies and insecurities that will
be part and parcel of the whole experience. And there will be jealousies
and insecurities, make no mistake. Especially as you watch your husband
change, and as the relationship between you changes. Above all, you're
gonna have to come to terms with yourself. Up until now I've no doubt
you've been the loving, caring husband in what I guess would probably be
best described as the alpha role. But there's a new alpha in Cal's life
now, and you're gonna have to adapt. You're gonna have to get your head
around the fact that you've been cucked."

	To be honest, I really didn't know what to think at this
point. Raph was being brutally frank, and I wasn't absolutely sure that I
liked the sound of everything he had to say. It was all very well to get
carried away by a rush of enthusiasm in these kinds of situations, but the
fellow was right. There were consequences to all of this. Big consequences!
Things that would change the way Cal and I viewed one another, and which
would either bring us closer together or tear us apart.

	All the same, there was only one word I appeared to be able to get
out of my mouth ...

	"Cucked?"

	"It's when a husband's partner has sex with another man," he
explained. I'd known the term before, but to be honest I'd never really
thought about it too much -- not even in this situation.

	"It used to be a straight term, but just recently it's been picked
up by the gay world," he continued. "Basically, the cuck is the partner who
enjoys watching his husband -- in your case -- getting fucked by other
men. I take it you like the idea of Cal being unfaithful ...?"

	"Yeah," I stuttered, "but I've not really thought of it like that
-- really ..."

	In truth I'd simply regarded all this as a bit of fun, just as my
husband had described it. I guess I hadn't analysed the situation too
deeply or given much thought to the psychology of it.

	"Well, maybe you should," he warned.

	"Look," he continued, "a few years ago I met a couple, not too
dissimilar from you. One wanted to enjoy a bit of extramarital fun. The
other was willing to let him. They started out thinking it was a little bit
of fun. Dabbling their feet in the water, so to speak. Before they knew it,
the one hubby was quite literally addicted to my fat black dick, and the
other was doing things he would never, ever have dreamt of in a million
years I'm quite sure ..."

	"What kind of things?" I enquired.

	Raph laughed. "Oh, now if I tell you that, it'll spoil the
fun. Plus, it would risk threatening your unique adventure. After all,
every cuck couple is different. What's acceptable to one isn't necessarily
acceptable to another. You've both got to plough your own field, as it
were."

	"I see ..." I sighed; noting that Cal was gently running his hand
up and down Raph's leg. Occasionally brushing the fellow's crotch in hope
maybe that he was gonna get to enjoy the present inside. A bit like a kid
on Christmas morning waiting for the time when he could start unwrapping.

	"Look," Raph, "I really, really like you guys. Seriously, I do. And
I hope we get to know each other much better and have some great fun with
one another. Plus, I have to say I've had a great evening with you both
tonight. Honestly, it's been one of the best nights I've had in a long,
long time. But do I think it's time for us to make that first major step
together? No, because this is a big thing, like I've said. You both need to
be absolutely confident that this is what you both want to do."

	"Can I just say something?" Cal suddenly -- and somewhat
surprisingly -- interrupted.

	"Hey, of course, babe ..." he encouraged.

	I couldn't help but note the use of the word babe -- a term of
intimate, but somewhat condescending affection. And a word that excited me
and tore into my soul with equal measure.

	"I know this a real big thing, like you say," he continued,
continuing to brush his hand against the black man's generous bulge, "but
I've already had the conversation with Ad about how I was gonna go ahead
with sex with other guys whether he liked it or not. So, what you've just
said -- as true as it is -- doesn't really matter ..."

	Raph gave a devilish smile. "So, in other words you don't give a
fuck what Adam here thinks about you enjoying my cock?"

	Cal gave me a somewhat sheepish glance. Fuck me, he really didn't
care for my feelings in this at all. All he wanted was to get his hands on
Raph's dick. Pure and simple.

	And fuck me, that turned me on more than I think anything had ever
done in my life!

	"To be honest," Cal signed, gazing into our host's eyes, "no."

	Raph lovingly ran his fingers down the side of my husband's
face. "Seriously?" he asked.

	"Seriously. I just want your cock in my mouth ..."

	You could have seen the pleasure on Raph's face from the other side
of the Thames. "In which case, babe," he began, unbuckling his belt, "be my
guest ..."

	He immediately turned to me, who by this point was literally trying
my utmost not to let my jaw hit the floor. "Sorry, Ad," he smiled, "looks
like your husband's made the decision for you.

	"Gotta admit," he continued, "that's usually what happens ..."

	At which point Raph's cock finally came into view.

	Nine incredible thick, meaty, uncut inches of black salami that
surely had to be seen to be fucking believed.

	Honest to God, how Cal and I didn't both cream ourselves on the
spot will remain a complete mystery.

	Arguably forever!





CHAPTER NINE



    	"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

	That was Cal's immediate response.

	"Christ! Is that for -- fucking real?"

	That was mine.

	I mean, seriously. I'd seen some decent equipment in my time -- I
wasn't an angel before I met Cal, believe me -- but this was something
else. In a total league of its own.

	No doubt about it, Steve had not been joking. An individual
postcode did come to mind.

	"That okay for you, babe?" Raph finally enquired, clearly noting
that the boy was pretty much mesmerised.

	"Fuck me ..." was about as much as my hubby could muster.

	"Actually, that's not something I have in mind" the black dude
continued. "Not tonight. I think it's good that we compromise in our
current situation."

	"Compromise?" Cal quipped, unsure of what he meant.

	"You guys still need time to talk things through," he explained in
his usual gentlemanly manner. "No matter how much you say you don't care
what your husband thinks, Cal, I know in reality that you do care. It's
just your cock that's doing the talking, and that never makes for wise
decisions. Believe me, if I fucked you, you two would almost certainly
regret it.

	"And whilst you might think otherwise," he carried on, "I have a
vested interest in you guys making your marriage work. I like my boyfriends
to be hitched, as I said last night."

He glanced in my direction. "Looks like your better half is a bit
awestruck," he laughed.

"Me?" I quipped, almost incomprehensively.

"Er, who else?" Ralph quipped, flitting his eyes around the room.

Truth is I was almost unable to tear myself away from the sight of Raph's
dick as it lay throbbing away up to his belly. Seriously now, it was an
almost unbelievable sight. Nine solid inches of undeniable black pleasure
that seemed to confirm every stereotype in the book.

No question about it, Raph was one very lucky man.

As was Cal, for that matter.

"Well, babe," our host urged at last, with just the softest hints of
impatience, "I guess this is the moment that you show your cuck-of-a-hub
just how talented you are with your mouth. Because let's face it bro, this
thing ain't gonna suck itself! LOL!"

Only a fellow of Raph's stature and charisma could have got away with using
an acronym as if it were an actual word; but to be fair Cal would have been
way too distracted even to notice. Honestly, he was literally in a world of
his own. Caught in some kind of biological rapture, as he contemplated the
prospect of tackling the biggest dick he'd probably ever seen in his life.

Mind, now I came to give Raph's closer attention, it wasn't just the guy's
cock that appeared larger than life. The fact of the matter is that he was
also blessed with two of the finest balls outside the equine world, nestled
in a low-hanging sac that would have any gay man worth their salt
salivating in anticipation. All finely surrounded by a neat, well-tendered
fuzz that was not too dissimilar to mine, except maybe a little darker.

All in all, a nigh on perfect offering that cried out to be worshipped. In
this case, by Cal.

To be honest, you'd have thought the dick was gonna bite my husband the way
he gingerly reached out to handle it for the first time. I mean, given the
desperation with which he'd been wanting to enjoy fresh cock up until this
point I'd have assumed that he would be on it like a dog at a bone, but it
seemed like when it came to the crunch the boy was a lot less
animated. Even so, I had a deep suspicion that once he'd sized that beauty
up, he'd tackle it with the same kind of enthusiasm that he'd always given
mine. Welcoming it with his luscious lips and sucking the fucking life out
of it like the rampant whore that I had the deep suspicion he now wanted to
become.

And it was that strange thought -- that Cal was a burgeoning slut -- that
flooded my brain as I watched him ease himself towards Raph's dick. That
this very moment I was witnessing was but the starting pistol to a whole
load of promiscuous behaviour that I had probably always wanted to witness,
but which for one reason or another I'd preferred to keep well and truly
buried.

Little wonder then that my own dick was raging away in my pants by this
point; and it was only the thought of how embarrassing and humiliating it
would be to get it out to jerk off prevented me from doing just that. After
all, this was my own husband I was watching here. This was the man I loved
acting out my own private live porn show. And whilst it gave me the horn
like I don't think anything else I'd known had ever done, I was still a
long way from feeling comfortable about my situation to indulge. As such,
my dick dribbled away in private admiration. Wishing for the squeeze of my
tight hand, no doubt, but enjoying no such perverse gratification.

Not this evening anyway.

Cal, on the other hand, was clearly beyond any sense of awkwardness,
stretching his fingers around the meaty girth of Raph's oversized rod and
taking an in-depth glance at the raging flesh before him. I think I knew
what he was thinking. After all, I only had to watch as he slowly pulled
the foreskin back from the black man's crimson head to comprehend just how
much he'd missed an uncut cock these past few years; and it was almost
meticulous fascination that he now rolled the skin back and forth, back,
and forth. Watching as Raph's pee-hole bubbled with pre-cum; whilst our
host nestled back into the cushions and anticipated the intense role of
pleasure that was about to be unleashed on his whole body once Cal found
courage to take the head of his knob in his mouth.

And to be honest I thought he was going to do that right there, right
then. So, it came as a somewhat brutal surprise when he suddenly twisted in
my direction and locked eyes. Hanging his lips above Raph's pulsing shaft,
whilst the black dude's precum drooled down over his fingers.

"I love you so much, Ad," he finally teased, "but I just need this so bad
..."

And with that the treacherous bastard lapped at the dribbling slit, made a
rather earthy and deeply gratified groan, and then opened his mouth to
consume as much of Raph's dick as he could.

At which point I honestly think any thought of me evaporated from his
brain, as he began to gently bob up and down on the end of that amazing
black joystick like it was what he was born to do. Gradually trying to edge
himself further and further down the length of his newfound friend, whilst
simultaneously fondling the fellow's balls as if he might squeeze their
juicy contents out by means of just his fingers.

Believe me, it was quite simply a joy to behold.

Of course, if you'd ask me what I'd have thought of this display just a few
weeks ago then you'd have probably got a very different response. No doubt
about it, the very thought of Cal acting in such an adulterous manner would
have fired me up into the kind of rage that most folk would never, ever
want to see. And yet in a terrifyingly short space of time I had been
transformed, and was now simply relishing the sight of my husband feasting
on someone else's dick like it was the most natural thing
imaginable. Gobbling away like a porn pro and groaning for all he was
worth.

You didn't need to be an anatomical expert to realise that there was no
fucking way that Cal was gonna deepthroat this almost offensively monstrous
piece of flesh, though that was not to say that a combination of practice
and keenness would not change that is due course. For now, however, I had
to be content with my husband's valiant attempt, which on several more
ambitious strokes saw the guy almost gag. But I have to admit that if
anything the sight of Cal struggling this way only turned me on even more
-- if indeed that were possible -- which probably explains what happened
next ...

The realisation that I had actually spunked in my pants!

Honest to God, for the first ever time in my life I had involuntarily
creamed myself. Accompanied by a several quivering gasps on my part as I
suddenly realised what was happening right at the last moment. Leaving me
feeling like someone had literally poured cold soup into my crotch; and in
some way bringing me to my senses as I realised the enormity of what I was
now being forced to witness ...

The love of my life stuffing his mouth with big black cock like a common
prostitute!

"Please, Cal," I suddenly begged, "I'd like you to stop!"

My husband glanced quizzically at me but didn't make any attempt to ease up
on the task at hand. Or in this instance on the task in mouth!

Meanwhile, Raph gave a somewhat dismissive sigh. "You fucking kidding me?"
he laughed, clearly unimpressed by my sudden change of heart.

"I just don't think I can deal with this ..." I gasped. Still grossly
turned on, and yet oddly appalled by the fact that I actually was.

The black man sighed and held out his hand. "Look, come here ..." he
beckoned.

"No!" I protested.

"Come here!" he growled. With a soft but very powerful determination in his
voice.

I hesitated. Then, realising I had no choice, stepped towards Raph, who
pulled me down to sit next to him on the sofa. Whilst all the time Cal
continued to perform fellatio like it was going out of fashion!

"Have you cum in your pants?" the black guy quizzed with an understanding
eye, wrapping his protective arm around me.

I nodded my head. "Yes," I huffed, blushing as I did so.

"It's okay," he assured me. "You're just experiencing a bit of cuck regret,
that's all. It'll pass. And it will get easier, I promise. One day all this
will seem absolutely normal. In fact, you'll start to want it more and
more. It's just all totally new to you. Remember that ..."

That might be true, but it still felt utterly abnormal and unwanted right
at this moment.

"Now look at your husband here," he continued, glancing down to view Cal's
Herculean efforts. "He's having the time of his life on my dick. You don't
want to spoil his fun, surely ...?"

I shook my head like a pliant little kid.

"Good," Raph smiled. "Because I'm just about to show him how pleased I am
with all his efforts. Honestly, it's been a very long time since I've had a
blowjob as the one your husband's giving me right now. A very long time
indeed ...

"Fuck man," he smiled, writhing a little as Cal continued to go to town,
"that tongue is so good. He's literally sucking the cum right out of me,
the dirty little hoe. Fuck man, your hubby sure knows how to work a dick,
that's for fucking sure."

And to be honest I couldn't argue given the display Raph and I were both
witnessing; as Cal slurped away for all he was worth, using every inch of
his mouth to caress the pulsating shaft.

"Do you know what, Adam?" Raph then suddenly exclaimed, squeezing me
tighter. "I'm gonna nut! Fuck yeah, I'm about to blow my wad!"

With that he caught hold of Cal's short hair and pulled him backwards,
leaving my husband little choice but to grab hold of Raph's cock with his
hand so that he could jerk the fellow off. Tugging and yanking the meat as
the black guy finally reached the brink of his climax.

"Shit!" our host proclaimed, as his dick began to finally fire up. Pushing
a thick splodge of creamy brew from its end. Followed by another, and
another. Coating his torso in the process.

"Fuck! Shit!" he gasped again, sweat clasping his brow; as the blast then
slowly subsided. It wasn't the biggest cum-shot I'd ever witnessed, but it
was certainly impressive all the same.

"God, that was soooooo good!" he finally exclaimed, ruffling Cal's
hair. "You did well, man. Really well. I'm seriously impressed."

"Thanks," my hubby smiled, somewhat coyly. "I enjoyed it."

Raph turned to me. "You okay now?" he quipped -- genuine care in his manly
voice.

I smiled. To be honest I was a bit embarrassed at having freaked out
mid-way, but as our host had pointed out it was somewhat natural. As I'd
already acknowledged, I'd come a long way in a very short space of time. It
was only understandable that I'd have these kinds of moments.

"I'm good," I sighed. "I'm really sorry for --"

"Man, you've absolutely nothing to be sorry for, I promise," he assured
me. "You faced your fear and you got over it; and from now on everything
will get easier and better, I promise.

"But I was right," he continued, "you guys definitely need to talk. And you
certainly aren't ready for me to be stretching Cal's cute little white
ass. But rest assured I have every confidence in both of you. Honestly,
guys, I think we'll have you both trained up and gagging for big black cock
before you know it ..."

I laughed, somewhat nervously. "Both of us?" I jibed.

Raph gave a sagacious nod of his handsome head. "Yes, both of you. I don't
think either of you realise it yet, but I can see real potential here.

"And I've always been a bit of a natural in seeing potential, believe me
..."

Should I have been worried? Arguably it was too late for that.

But I couldn't quite help thinking that we'd barely started to scratch the
surface with Rafe. And that life was never, ever going to be quite the same
again.

Whether I liked it or not.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

E-mail me with any questions, comments, criticism or compliments:
christopherhudson1970@gmail.com