The Wait

Before I knew it I was at home sitting on the sofa in the dark living room. I had driven home, walked in the house, found my way here, and come to sit here in a strange sort of numb state. It had been almost an hour since I dropped Rebecca off and whatever it was Manny had planned for my wife they were surely well into it now. The chances were better than even that he was making love to my beautiful wife right at this very moment.

God...she looked to so good tonight in that tight red dress. She smelled so good tonight. Manny was getting her at her best. He'd have her dress off by now and she'd probably be covered in the sweat of foreplay and sex...I bet she looked incredible right now.

I wished more than anything to be able to see them right now...wished it and dreaded it too. My jumbled chaotic emotions were crazy! One never settling in long enough to become dominant. I had never felt so off kilter in my life. The only constant was the white hot horny fire in my loins. Yet even this was muddled.

Before this my lust always had an object toward which my desire pointed me, my own sexual urges were the center and the starting point. When I thought about Rebecca I would imagine her and I making love. If I fantasized about some starlet or porn actress I put myself in the starring role. This time however...I was a bystander in my own wanton passion. My every lewd thought centered around my wife and another man. It was the strangest of sensations, as if Rebecca by proxy was now the star of my lustful needs and I was just a bit part extra.

Disorienting didn't even come close to describing my feelings as I sat there. I felt adrift in depths of space with only my aching erection to guide me.

My mouth was dry and tasted of iron, my palms were sweaty, and I desperately wanted to DO something yet I sit frozen in place. I watch the refection of headlights pass by the living room window and continue to just sit in silence in the dark room with my thoughts.

I think back to the summary of Rebecca's rating of Manny. "Absolute Pussy Slayer! Energizer Bunny! Kept going and going and going. Eight out of ten!"

Manny, short for Manuel, was a slender Dominican-American man whose amiable open personality made him very approachable and easy to get along with. His looks didn't make him stand out, though he did have a suave latino handsomeness about him. He'd always been more Rebecca's friend than mine but I knew the guy well. He was shorter than me and more slight in build, but...where it really counted I knew he had me beat. He'd been here at the house countless times, one of our first invites for barbecues or super bowl parties or whatever we might be doing socially. It only strikes me then that this wasn't likely to change. He would be here the next time we had an event. What would that dynamic be like now? What would he think of me? The fearful knot in my stomach intensifies, though my rock hard cock doesn't abate one iota.

Manny the Pussy Slayer. Manny the Energizer Bunny. Manny the Eight out of ten. I might be in for a long wait.

So many times I am tempted to relieve some of the tension and jerk off. I'd never wanted to beat my meat so bad, and with the way I was feeling it would only take a minute or two tops. But I told Rebecca that I would be a good cuck and I intended to keep my word.

She told me there would be a reward for being a good cuckold. She said...that she'd let me taste her. I couldn't believe she had said when she did and I still couldn't. If she meant what I think she meant...it turned my stomach! And yet, as was the mood of the night, even this feeling of revulsion came with an intensely raunchy longing. Fuck, the thought of eating my wife out after another man had just had her... I grip the cushions of the sofa and clench my teeth as I push down the libidinous fires that threatened to burn me to ash.

Waiting like this was arduous ****! Sweet, agonizing, wonderful ****!

I hated it! I LOVED it!

I was glad I was here. I wished I were there.

I hoped they didn't mention me. I prayed they were kind and understanding. But if they did talk about me...I desired it to be as unflattering as possible. I hoped they laughed at me and mocked me and belittled me!

I dreaded seeing Manny's judging eyes again even as I hoped he would openly sneer and scoff at how my inadequacies drove my gorgeous wife into his arms.

With all of these contrasting thoughts happening all at once I thought I might actually go mad. Perhaps I was already there.

As one hour drags on to two I cannot help but think of my own sub-par sub-five minute performances of late. What could he be doing with her all of this time? This thought leads to imagined images of Manny's lean tan body and Rebecca's soft white flesh entangled and pressed together. I could practically hear her orgasmic cry ring out in my ears.

If there was one small thing I could hold to it was the fact I was happy, genuinely happy, that Rebecca would at last have a partner that could satisfy her. After her years with me she deserved it. After Rebecca and I's wonderfully romantic night out together I hoped Manny fucked her in a way befitting of such a perfect evening. I hoped he fucked her like I never could to cap her night off right.

I continued to sit there not turning on the lights or trying to distract myself with television or the internet. One heart twisting thing consumed me and I wanted to experience every perfect and wretched minute of it. I was now a cuckold. Even if this turned out to be the one and only time it was something that could not be erased. The deed was done and there was no turning back.

It is just before midnight when I am startled by sound of text message. With shaking hand I pick up my phone and look at the screen, my dark adapted eyes squinting at the brightness.

It was from my wife. The message simply read: "We're done."

I stare at the words for close to a minute before replying. "On my way."

In the same numb state I had arrived in I pocket my phone, grab my keys, and make my way out to the car with a tent in my trousers that hadn't gone down once in the intervening hours.

I drive back the same route to pick up my wife from her lover's house.