The beginning...from MY point of view.

Time to come clean. I am Morgan's ex-boyfriend. Little did I know that I was the star of this story, and had never known of its existence until recently. When I first found out about all of this, I was understandibly a bit angry. However, after reading the stories (all of them to be exact), and with a little secret encouragement from Morgan (and embarassingly enough, Bill too) I have come to accept what I am. Quite frankly, I am a cuckold. When this all started, I had no idea the term for it, and was ashamed by how I felt about all this. What can I say, as time went on, I became accustomed to a lifestyle I didn't even know existed. For the past few months (maybe more like a year now) Morgan has been secretly invisting me to this world. Maybe she had an idea of what I was, maybe she just to a shot in the dark. Either way, here we are. You can judge me, and call me a freak or whatever you want, but I have learned to enjoy my "place" in Morgan and Bill's relationship.

That being said, I have to come clean on some aspects of the story. At NO point have I ever set up cameras, or really observed any of what transpired in this story. Though the tales have led to me experiencing some of my wildest fantasies (after the fact), most of what occured was not witnessed by me. That is not to say I didn't see SOMETHING as it was all happening. Part of me might have even pushed it along, like my characted in this story.

Let me tell you a little about myself. I am educated, with a degree from college, and now an advanced degree. I believe myself to be a relatively attractive guy. Standing at about 5’11”, I’m sort of tall with short brown hair. My body type is thin, not fat, but not without muscle. My dick, at least I would like to think, isn’t that small. It is average, and I have pleased several women, Morgan included (I believe). I’m not the completely outgoing type, and have trouble hitting on women, especially at bars. I met Morgan in college through friends, which is why she started dating me. At first, Morgan wasn’t as hot as she may tell you (sorry, I’m being honest Morgan). But, oh, how things change.

When I first met her, she was a pretty cute young girl around twenty-three years old. She was heavier than she is now. Her face a little rounder, and her hips a little bigger. After a year of us dating, things changed for the better or worse, depending on how you look at it. She started to eat only healthy foods, and avoided fats, sugars carbohydrates and the like. Within six months, Morgan had lost A LOT of weight. Soon she went from being a girl few noticed in her crowd of friends, to being the one that guys preferred.

She is short, about 5’7” with brunette hair (often darker if she prefers). The only way I could describe her body after the first year is….perfect. I’d say she looks like some celebrity, but I hate when people do that. To put it simply, she has the body of a model like Gisele Bundchen (not the face though). Thin, with firm breasts (I can’t really tell her cup size, probably somewhere in the “B” range, but I’m never good at guessing such things). Her nipples are dark and round and amazing, always remaining erect. She has the kind of boobs that will never sag, and never flop. She has a small but pert ass, that she worked on for months. These are not her best attributes though. The girl has legs to die for. I have always said it, and maintain my assertions until this day. Her legs are hotter than most models and celebrities. Her feet are the kind that appear as if she is always in heels. Sexy and perfect. On occasion, at the beach, I have watched talent scouts from modeling agencies ask if she wanted to be a leg model. She always refused, to my surprise.

Her face, without make-up, is the girl-next-door that you always fall in love with. A cute nose with rosy cheeks and bright brown eyes. She has small and earrings throughout various parts of her ears that fit her outgoing and peppy attitude. She had a bright demeanor and friendly character, that everyone loved. More so than anything, she was a demon sexually. She was the type of girl who would have dinner ready (she was a hell of a cook) when I got home and be dressed in a school-girl outfit to serve me. Our sex was fantastic….the best I’ve ever had. To beat a dead horse, the girl was hot all around. And that was without dressing up.

With make-up, Morgan has an amazing ability to go from that girl-next-door to a stunning knockout. Easily a ten at times. When she puts heels on, that make her several inches taller (almost my height and even taller at times) she is the one you notice walking into a room. She loved to wear skirts and heels, telling me that her legs were her “best attribute” so why not show them off. Honestly, I loved that. In time my friends, family, co-workers and acquaintances began to notice. To my downfall (if that’s the right way of looking at it now), no one noticed more than my friend Bill. (If you want a picture of her, email me.)

Let me describe Bill……he is an asshole. Your typical jerk. I have known him for as long as I can remember, and we went to high school together. Bill is only 5’7” himself, but when I first introduced him to Morgan, he was pretty fat. He has black hair, which he has no idea how to style, and that translates into how he dresses as well. The man is devoid of style. He is the drunk slob who always tries to hit on everything that walks, and not in a altogether consensual manner. To say he had no game would be an understatement. His move would be to get drunk and start groping any women he took a fancy too. This included Morgan and her friends. At first, she hated him, and didn’t really give him the time of day. She thought him an obnoxious slob, and didn’t know why I bothered with him. But, oh, how things change.

Bill and I were always competing. At sports, pool, drinking, and with women. He thought himself as the winner most of the time, but I think I held my own, for the most part. He was the kind of guy that would put you down in front of your friends and girlfriend to make himself look better. Again, a real asshole. Oddly enough, there were several women, mostly fat, who responded to this behavior. Not my Morgan though, never. But, oh, how things change.

Even if she didn’t notice, Bill was obsessed with Morgan. His lust only grew as she got older, skinnier and hotter. On occasion, when he’d come visit me, I’d hear him remark to Morgan how “great” she looked now. He was always trying to dance with her and would be brutally rebuffed. It all changed a few years back, when Bill hit the gym hard. After several months he was no thinner, but more muscular. His arms were huge, and his back was broad. He lost weight on his face, and women seemed to notice. He was able to sleep with a friend of Morgan’s, and even made out with another. All the while, I noticed how Morgan’s attitude changed towards him. She seemed to flirt MUCH more, and laugh at his jokes. I believe it was her friends’ attention to Bill that changed things. . They probably didn’t think I noticed, but it was hard not to. She would sit next to him at bars more and more. She kept trying to “hook” him up with her friends, and other random girls. He was something of a project for her, I guess. Even as she set him up with women, I could tell she always watched and tried to interject. I don’t know if it was her being jealous, or my own mind wandering. I told myself she would never be attracted to that drunken slob. But, oh, how things change.

I think the moment it all began to TRULY change was when he stayed over my apartment on our couch. Morgan, ever the kind hearted girlfriend, brought him a blanket as he was passed out, or so we both thought. I was in the kitchen eating something I can’t remember, but watched secretly what was transpiring. As Morgan laid the blanket on Bill, his hand came up to the side of her leg. She shot up. He caressed her right leg and rubbed up and down. I saw Morgan look around to see if I was in the room. I thought she would slap him, yell, scream, anything. But she did absolutely nothing. He had done this before, but she had always pushed him away. This time, she hadn’t. It only lasted for mere seconds, but in my mind it was a lifetime. A lingering moment that was burned in my head forever. Not for the act itself, which I considered a small but damaging betrayal, but for the instant erection that ached in my pants. I didn’t know why it happened, nor could I stop it despite the embarrassment. Needless to say, through my shame, humiliation, jealousy and anger, I kept my cool. Morgan didn’t say a word to me when she came into the kitchen to grab a snack. I didn’t know what hurt more, my heart or the tension in my jeans. That night was one of the most explosive orgasms I’ve ever had, which again made me feel a shame I couldn’t explain. The sex was quick, and probably unsatisfying for Morgan, but for me it was intense never-the-less. To this day, I remember hearing Bill call up while we laid in each other’s arms, “You need some help up there!” Instead of shaking her head disapprovingly as usual, Morgan actually laughed. I took this as another small betrayal and felt more growing jealousy. But it was such a minor incident. Surely nothing more would or could happen. But, oh, how things change.

That is how this adventure began for me. Though the story didn’t follow like Morgan’s tale suggests, at least from my point of view, like a rock rolling down a hill, things began to tumble faster and more erratically. As I watched this “affair” grow from the sidelines, my rage, anger and jealousy grew exponentially. Despite all this, my cock was betraying me daily. As their flirting, touching, joking, and sordid…well….passion for each other blossomed, I became obsessed with thoughts I couldn’t explain. I wanted to believe it wasn’t all happening, and wanted to believe it was all in my head. Maybe I should have stopped it, maybe I could have, but some part of me wanted to see this thing play out. As you know by now, I was slowly phased out of the relationship, resigned to masturbating to fantasies I was embarrassed by. I don’t think I can be any more candid than to tell you it got so bad, that I would have wet dreams of watching them fucking from a closer. This ACTUALLY happened. I masturbated to orgasm in my dreams as I watched my friend fuck my girlfriend.

But I don’t want to waste anymore of your time. This is a site to post stories I am told, so I will share a scene that I DID witness. One that I never told Morgan about due to shame. You see, I had been a voyeur of their affair for some time. I was too embarrassed to admit any of this, until I discovered the meaning of “cuckold” and began to understand it is a preference of many men, and a lifestyle. Don’t pity me, or judge me. Today I am HAPPY to be a cuckold, and enjoy the orgasms it brings. It’s not for everyone, but if you can get over the psychological hang-ups, it can be satisfying.

And I had not seen them have sex (not until recently, and never in real life). This is more of what was going on in my mind, and what I THOUGHT was happening. While I enjoy the things that I see now, which help me experience my fantasies, I think the whole “not knowing” what was going on was WAY more exciting for me.

Without further ado, here is a small story. If you like it, I will write more. This is for Morgan, and for bringing me back into the relationship, so to speak.

It was a night like any other. Morgan and I were sitting in the living room watching TV as we often did on weeknights. Both of us had to work in the morning, and tonight we were staying at her condominium. I was noticing Morgan texting and playing with her phone, distracted most of the night. My suspicions about her and Bill were growing by the day. I wasn’t one to snoop, and check her messages, but every fiber of my being wanted to see what was going on. Morgan turned in early, like she usually did, and left me alone in the living room to drink a few beers and join her later.

Like any other night, I picked up my laptop, and checked my fantasy baseball scores. Then, I did a final check of the days email. On this night, however, I decided to look up some things on Facebook. I wasn’t really into Facebook, but I checked it weekly. Morgan had always called me a nerd, pretending to be too “cool” for the social network. Or so I thought. As I began to look through people’s status updates and posts, I noticed in the corner where it states “people you might know”. This was before “timelines” and all the new applications Facebook offers. To my surprise, I swore I could see Morgan’s face. The name was “Morgan Gams” (not her real Facebook name so don’t waste you’re time, got to keep some things private). I thought this was very strange. But as I said, she has a strange personality, and she did love her legs. Later, I’d find out she was trying to hide from old boyfriends and such, or so she told me. I clicked on the picture, and it WAS Morgan, in one of her business suits smiling. To my surprise, she had three mutual friends. The first two were her friends Melonie and Hilary. The last “mutual” friend made my jaw drop. It was Bill. I was enraged and wanted to confront her, but again, the embarrassing cock of mine simply stood to attention.

I paced for hours drinking more and more, until I finally made a decision to break my “snooping” rule. I walked into the guest bedroom, where her main computer was, the one she never locked and always kept her email open. I sat with beer in hand and took a deep breath as I clicked the button to open the internet browser. Like clockwork, she still had her email open, and just my luck, her supposedly “non-existant” Facebook account as well. Had she logged in before bed, since she had not been logged out, I had assumed so.

The email was my first quarry, though I don’t know why to this day. I scrolled through emails from friends and relatives until I saw the Facebook invite. It was from Bill’s email account. Clicking on the other tab, I found myself staring at Morgan’s “Wall”. The page was new, as she only had fifteen friends so far. She had apparently opened this account in the past few days. Why no “friend request” to me, her boyfriend. And for that matter, why no status change to “in a relationship”. At least she hadn’t stated she was single.

I spent the next half hour searching her entire page. What I found was that she had posted only a few photos. Some of her family, some of her work, and links to things she liked and her work homepage. Scrolling down to the bottom of the page, I saw something that made my heart somehow simultaneously sink AND jump. The line simply read “Morgan and Bill are now friends” (again not exactly how it read, but you get the picture). Of all people, that ASSHOLE was her first friend. In fact, she probably had accepted his request for her to join Facebook. What was going on.

The photos section sealed my suspicion. One of the photos was posted only a day before. It was titled “Me and the girls at the pool”. I was greeted with the image of Morgan, Melonie and Hilary at the pool, all in bikinis. Morgan had her pink bikini on, and Melonie had a blue one with a white bottom. Hilary wore a black one-piece that attempted to cover her somewhat “portly” form. They were all sitting holding different cups. Each had on large designer glasses. I don’t mean to brag, but even though men often hit on Melonie, it was clear whose body was the best. Morgan’s legs were tanned, toned and beautiful. While Melonie had wide hips and cottage cheese on her legs. Hilary was, well, sort of fat. Morgan’s stomach was flat while Melonie and Hilary both had small pooches. My eyes were trained on my own girlfriend, the cock in my pants springing even further to life. I checked the light of our bedroom to make sure it was off. Seeing the door closed, I went back to the guest room and sat down, now with my pants at my ankles like I was fifteen years old. I began to stroke my cock to my own girlfriend, the strange scenario not lost to me. I don’t know who took the picture, but I HOPED it wasn’t my friend or more like growing enemy Bill.

Below the picture was a comment from Bill. “Nice legs, wish I could be between them…I mean you guys….I mean…d’oh.” He was making lewd comments, clearly directed towards Morgan. Was this why she had not invited me to be her friend. Her response was simply “You’re and asshole”. Melonie responded below that with something that made me confused. “What should I bring for tomorrow?” To which, Morgan had added, “Just drinks slut! Lol!” Now my mind was racing, as I had thought Morgan was going to work tomorrow. This plot of this mystery began to thicken. As was my cock, until I spewed a huge load right onto the floor in front of me moments later. Not wanting the evidence of my shame to be discovered, I cleaned up, and went to bed.

The next day I decided to take a day of leave. I had a lot of time, and wanted to see just what this rendezvous was all about. I didn’t know where to start my investigation, but I thought that the very pool where the picture was taken would be a great start. You see, Morgan’s complex has a community pool and hot-tub located in the middle of the grounds. Since it was a sunny day, I thought that maybe she was meeting Melonie and Hilary there.

I parked across the park, and walked my way to her complex. The pool would require a key-card, but I had one, since I was her boyfriend after all. I had spent many days there lounging with her, and enjoying the pool and Jacuzzi. Not wanting to be noticed, I had a large baseball cap on, and aviator sunglasses. I was relieved to see the pool was filled to the brim with people. It would allow me to remain incognito. I knew the pool area like the back of my hand, and was happy to see the spot behind the bushes and the small fake rock grotto was empty. I took up a reclining chair and looked around. I didn’t even realize how out of place I must have looked, not even wearing swim trunks, or having a towel or anything. I took off my shirt, exposing my white body, and then my shoes and socks. I had a farmers tan since I hadn’t gotten much sun lately. I hoped that I could pull off my cargo shorts as pool attire. Hopefully no one would notice me, since I was familiar with several residents.

After a few seconds, I noted Melonie and Hilary sitting on the far side of the pool. Melonie wore a green bikini, her large boobs almost bursting out, but her gut was still visible. Hilary had on the same black one piece as the one she wore in the picture. They were chatting with two guys I didn’t recognize, one with blonde hair, tall and skinny. The other a pudgy shorter man with brown hair. It was clear that the thinner man was with Melonie, while the other was with Hilary. To my surprise and growing anxiety, Morgan wasn’t there. A few minutes later, I saw her. She had on her maroon beach skirt, and high-heeled turquoise wedge shoes that made her almost six feet tall. She had a beach bag, and towel in her arms. She stood at the gate, waiting for Melonie, who stood up and walked over to let her in. From behind Morgan I then saw my enemy/friend. There he was, in all his obnoxious glory. He was holding a cooler, and his own towel. Bill had on a black t-shirt, and tight swim trunks. He was whiter than even me, he wore his running shoes and socks. Less prepared for the pool than I was. But they were here together. My anger grew to a boiling point, and I wanted to confront them, but something, maybe the growing erection in my cargo shorts, stopped me. I would have looked quite the fool yelling and screaming while sporting a small boner. It wouldn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense to me.

I watched intently, as Morgan sat next to Melonie. I noticed many of the men, some married with children, some with their friends ogling Morgan, waiting for that moment they knew was coming. Bill took the chair next to her. The moment came, and you could almost hear the collective gasp when she pulled up the skirt over her head and off her body, revealing her yellow and black bikini with the small golden metal guitars that acted as clasps. There were small yellow guitars printed on the top and bottom. She looked stunning. I expected her to take off her heels, but she kept them on. I watched with clenched teeth and fist while Morgan chatted with her friends and introduced Bill to the unknown men. Bill simply pulled his shirt off, then his shoes and socks and sat back on the chair, reclining in the sun.

How could I let this continue. Jealousy filled me to the core. But that familiar embarrassment of a straining erection held me down. I put my shirt over my head to block the glaring sun, realizing I had no sun tan lotion. I was going to be burned. I couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t leave. I remained still, glad I had not been noticed. The group seemed oblivious to not only my presence, but to the presence of every man woman and child there. Bill opened the cooler and pulled out a beer. Melonie pointed to the large cooler. I couldn’t hear her, but I knew she was asking if there was space. A moment later, she put a large bottle of vodka in the cooler, not before pouring Morgan a drink into a solo cup. There were restrictions on drinking, and all but Bill followed them.

For the first few minutes, nothing much occurred, save for chitchat that I could not witness firsthand. Then, I watched Morgan pull out a tube of suntan lotion from her bag. She squirted it onto her hands and then rubbed it on her arms, and stomach, then her face and neck. She quickly rubbed some on her chest, thankfully not wanting to put on a show that almost all the men at the pool were more than ready to pay for if they could. Again, you could almost hear a collective gasp, this time more of a disappointed sigh. Bill, for all his chauvinistic bravado, simply leaned back, not even looking at Morgan. He had his arms behind his head lounging in the sun, letting her chat with her friends as she rubbed lotion on her already tan body. The show finally did come, however, when Morgan began to sit back and rub the lotion onto her long legs, slowly rubbing in the white oil. It was nothing but a girl putting on sunscreen, but it excited me, and most of the men there still. That’s when my asshole friend finally made a move and reached to help her. She slapped his hand away, and everyone laughed. He had lost the battle, but not the war, as Morgan moved her hair to the side and presented her back to Bill. I couldn’t tell what she was saying, but I knew. She had asked him to rub in on her back. He put a large amount into his hands, and then began to rub her shoulders, more of in a massaging motion than an application of lotion. Morgan just leaned forward as he applied pressure to her back, and she seemed to allow the special attention, or at least paid little mind as she spoke with Hilary and Melonie. I can’t be sure but I am almost certain he winked at the two other guys who watched as they sipped their cups with smiles. Despite my furious demeanor, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I had suspected much, but had never actually seen them so much as touch hands, let alone this much contact. I had never been so jealous, and alternatively so rock hard in my entire life. I must be some kind of weirdo, I thought at that moment.

The finale of the show was about to begin. Bill reached her lower back and tried to move down to her small ass. She shot him a glance, but he said something with a concerned look on his face. She shocked me when she stood up in front of him, her ass mere inches from his face. He had a smile as wide as the Grand Canyon on his face. His left hand poured some more oil onto his right. I urged her in my mind to stop, but deep down I awaited the grand finale. Fate answered my darker side, and I watched with wide eyes, a spectator as much as every other man, as Bill pushed his hands onto her ass. He kneaded the lotion into her ass around her bikini and down between her thighs and stopped to squeeze the bottoms of her ass. She simply nodded down at Melonie who looked up through her large glasses, engaged in conversation. Bill was taking his sweet fucking time as he rubbed the back of her legs for what seemed like a never ending eternity. A minute later, he sat back with that oh so fucking big smile. Morgan laid a towel out, her ass glistening now in the sun light. She then sat down and the show was over. I could sense things returning to normal at the pool for all in attendance, at least the men. It had been like the final out of a baseball game with a hush over the crowd. Now, things had returned to normal. At least, for all but me. I was overcome with jealousy, and wanted to punch Bill right in his smug fucking face. That’s when I looked down to see the small bulge had grown to its fullness in my shorts. Fuck, what was wrong with me. I needed to leave this place, to go….somewhere….anywhere. A few minutes later I found myself in my car. Drive away, I told myself. Leave this place. But I could not. I had to stay. I had to watch. I had to….shit….I had to cum. I endured the most humiliating moment in my life, as I jerked off into my sock, not wanting to get my spunk all over my car. The image of Bill’s hands on her ass running over and over in my mind. Luckily, I was alone. I wanted to scream out, to cry, to do anything. What Iin fact ended up doing was having a powerful orgasm into my sock. I placed it under the passenger seat and went back to the pool.

When I hoped the seat would be occupied, allowing me to leave this place and this scene, yet, when I found my secluded spot still opened I actually felt a bit of relief. I returned to my position, hopefully still out of view. I looked over to see if I had been “made”. This was my lucky day, I laughed to myself sarcastically when I glanced over to see Morgan, Bill and their group utterly ignoring all but themselves. I must have been gone for some time, because I noticed that the group was more jovial than before. Drinks were flowing and inhibitions were leaving. They were loud, and cheerful. Laughing and talking like no one else was around.

Soon, it was time for the Jacuzzi. I watched Melonie, her man, and Hilary and her man walk over to the hot-tub. The blonde guy turned on the jets. Morgan was unclasping her heels, finally taking them off. She stood up next to Bill, and I noticed they were now the same height. She towered over him in heels. An odd couple to say the least. The word “couple”, even a mere thought in my head, made me cringe. Morgan and Bill joined the other four, and they settled in their pre-ordained pairs. Bill sat close to my girlfriend. Within seconds, his arm was around her. I felt a surge in my groin. I was being trained by some unforeseen ****. Each time they touched, it twitched. I watched with erect interest as the group lounged and drank in the hot-tub.

As time wore on, the group outing turned into an individual nightmare for me. Melonie, Hilary and their men joked and played, but I could give a flying fuck about them. For the past several minutes, Bill and Morgan were solely talking with each other, and very close mind you. Bill was whispering proverbial sweet nothings in her ear, and she giggled and laughed at whatever he said. I felt myself move forward as if to see more clearly the full extent of the betrayal. He put his hand on her chin and came in to kiss her on the lips. She closed her eyes and returned the light peck. This new form of contact hurt my heart to no end, but revved my cock into overdrive. I was torn in two strange directions of jealousy and eroticism, not sure which one would win the day. She was cheating on me now, I told myself. There was no doubt. Right?

The blonde guy jumped out of the hot-tub and Melonie followed as they jumped in the pool, Melonie held her nose. Hilary’s man walked up the steps of the hot-tub and waited at the edge. When Hilary joined him, he grabbed her and pulled her into the pool. My “friend” and my “girlfriend” were apparently oblivious to the frolicking. They remained seated and closer than before. She was almost on his lap. Their continued light pecks turned to something more akin to high-school children at a movie. There was my girlfriend making out with my asshole friend, whom she supposedly hated, right there in public. I swear I could see their tongues dancing with each other. My emotions were spinning, even as my cock yearned to cum again, without so much as a touch. To the on-lookers and patrons of the pool it was nothing more than two people, probably newly dating getting to know one another. To me it was an **** act of adultery, and yet, an **** scene of erotic abandon.

What happened next may have occurred solely in my mind, but I can’t be sure. I remember seeing Morgan perk her head up and look around the pool, making sure no one took any notice of the two people alone in the hot-tub. Her arms disappeared, she turned to Bill. His head jerked up, and then back, seemingly basking in the sun. I couldn’t be sure, but I believe there was more commotion under those bubbles than before. Morgan looked at his face with an odd look of concentration, as if gauging what he was thinking and feeling. Only a few minutes past, but I won’t forget those long seconds. My mind wouldn’t form the horrendous thought, or at least tried to fight it. But as Bill stood up and left the hot-tub, followed by my now wet bikini-clad girlfriend, I wondered if I had just witnessed Morgan give Bill a handjob under the water. He surely seemed brighter, more chipper and there was a new glow about him that didn’t resonate from just the hot sun. His smile seemed wider as they returned to the chairs.

I stormed back to my car. Images of driving away washed out of my head, as an image of Morgan’s hand, my girlfriend’s hand stroking Bill’s cock underwater flooded my mind. I didn’t even realize I was jerking off into my other sock. I came again, impossibly harder than the first time. My breathing subsided, and my heart stopped racing. Was I really getting this much satisfaction from watching my girlfriend’s affair with my asshole buddy. A sticky and gooey sock answered my question, and I left it under the seat to join its mate.

This time, when I reached the pool area, there were no hopes of people being in my seat. My only thought was of getting back to my spot fast enough to re-engage my viewing endeavor. The seat was open, and I smiled just like Bill had as I sat down, no longer worried they would see me. No one seemed to even look in my direction, except for a few young kids who gave me odd looks as the played in the pool.

Nothing happened for the next few minutes, or was it hours, I no longer could tell. Here, I was simply an observer. I watched them drink and drink. Morgan finally stood up, now fully dry, wearing her wedge heels again and walked towards the public bathroom which was at the front of the pool inside a recreation center. I could do nothing when a moment later Bill stood up himself, and walked towards the bathroom. What was to happen next still haunts me. He made a b-line for the recreation center. I watched him open the door, and through the glass, I could swear with every fiber of my being he had followed my girlfriend into the women’s bathroom. But I am still not sure, even now if what I saw was true.

They returned together walking side by side smiling and laughing. It was an odd sight, as she stood almost four inches taller than him in the heels. I don’t think I was the only one to think she was WAY out of his league. But right then, she wasn’t in my league either, because she wasn’t with me. She was with him. I noted the same distinct glow, or so my mind believed, that I had seen on Bill earlier. She sat in her chair, and reacquired her cup to take a big drink. The scene wasn’t one that was overly erotic as before, but my eyes trained on something very peculiar. For someone who was otherwise bone dry, a small, and almost imperceptible wet spot began to form around the crotch of her bikini bottom. I couldn’t tell if this was the glare in my eyes or what. As she sat with her feet crossed at the foot of the chair and spoke with Melonie and her blonde boytoy as she sunbathed, I was all but sure I saw drips of fluid hit the floor below her chair right beneath her small bikini clad crotch area. It reminded me of when I had used her bikini bottoms to masturbate. Which I often did, though she never knew. They would be hanging up in the bathroom to dry, and I would pull them off to take a big whiff of the womanhood that was once housed in the fabric. Then I would begin to rub the inner area over my crotch until I came. I would rehang the bottoms and watch over the next several minutes, as my cum seeped through and dripped to the floor. The sight at the pool was very similar. Had they? Did they? No. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. She wouldn’t. They wouldn’t. But like a drop of poison in a drink, the damage was done in my head.

The day for this group must have come to an abrupt end, because moments later they began to pack up and leave. Morgan pulled the maroon dress over her head, and Melonie pulled jeans on, and a shirt. Hilary merely put a towel around her body. The two men I did not know left together, followed by Hilary and Melonie who exited next.

I watched Bill pack his things. Morgan got up and began to move my way. Bill grabbed her and pulled her to him, he buried his face in her neck, making her laugh. She pushed him away and waved her finger as if to say “no”. Bill slapped her ass, and walked to the front gate, probably to his car. Morgan on the other hand walked slowly towards me. Oh my god, I thought, did she know the whole time. I expected her to come over and cause a scene. Instead, my girlfriend, with a huge smile walked right by, in her own world, not even seeing her own boyfriend mere feet away.

Picking up my stuff, and putting my shirt on after I made sure she left, I began to leave myself. Something stopped me in my tracks, and I walked over to the hot-tub, which was turned off. I looked into the water, and noticed a strange collection of a white bubbly gooey substance floating around in the small waves. Then I moved over to where Morgan was sitting. I’m not sure what anyone thought as they watched me, but I moved the chair she had been sitting in, and observed the pool of white sticky goo below, matching the one I had just scene.

This is all in your head I thought, as I raced to my car. As I drove home, the idea of Morgan fucking Bill in the bathroom invaded my head. Did they do it? How did they do it? And why was one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing my cock. I had no more socks, I told myself. That’s why.