My wife Blanche is a staunch churchgoer. She is on the church council and sings in the choir. We have been married for thirty years, with two grown children, both with lives of their own away from our home. When they left home she stopped insisting I go to church with her.

Sex at our house is pretty much non-existent; some time ago Blanche decided that recreational sex was for young, preferably single people, and should not burden a middle-aged wife. She doesn’t deny me sex but she never initiates it and is fairly passive when I do.

When the boys were young I built a workshop in a portion of our basement for their projects. As they got older and their interests changed, it morphed into my man cave with a large TV and comfortable chairs. So, for me, sex has become internet porn in the basement. As time went by, cuckold porn has captured my interest.

We were friends with a couple since our kids were in school together. Tom is also a golfer. We play together once per week or more. His other passion is singing. He is in the church choir with Blanche.

Tom’s wife died about one year ago and since then we see quite a lot of him. He drives Blanche to choir practices and Sunday services. I generally use Sunday mornings for chores and alone time, usually involving porn watching and jerking off.

One Sunday I lost track of time and mid-stroke I heard, “So this is how you worship the god Priapus.” I turned to see Tom standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face. Thus began a regular habit of the two of us watching porn together and, ultimately masturbating together.

Fortunately, for some reason, Blanche decided that the workshop was guy territory, so she never came there. Tom and I sometimes talked about my sex life; he had none as he was not ready to think about another woman so soon after his wife’s death. In one such session, he confessed that he was attracted to Blanche and when we watched cuckold porn, he imagined himself as her bull.

Pretty soon I was imagining his nice cock slipping into her mouth and her pussy. The image of the two of them having torrid sex stuck in my mind and never failed to get me hard. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it to happen.

“Tom, what would you think if I suggested that you try to seduce Blanche?” I watched his face as the idea of my approval sunk in.

“I’d think you are nuts and that there is no way it could happen,” he quickly replied while his hand pumped up and down on his hard cock.

“Your big cock could make her pussy feel amazing, and maybe she would give you head too; she hasn’t done me in quite a while, you know. She used to be very good at sucking my cock in the old days.” That pushed him over the edge, making a mess on his lap.

He said no more about him and Blanche that day but later he told me, “I wouldn’t know what to do to turn her on to me.”

“Well, you could invite her out for coffee after choir practice some night and maybe confess that you are attracted to her, or point out that you feel lonely but don’t know how to go about finding women. I bet she will take you under her wing; she’s like that, and I know she cares about you as a friend.

“Why not try that and see what happens? She will likely be flattered at the least.” His face lit up.

“Will you coach me? You should know what works after so many years together,” he looked so hopeful I had to chuckle. In my head, I began to plot our strategy to make myself a cuckold.

A week later he looked relieved as he told me, “We drank take-out coffee after practice and I said what you suggested. She didn’t get angry. She pointed out a couple of available women in the choir but they are either too young for me or too old for me to be interested in. She did put her hand on my thigh and gave it a couple of pats. If she only knew how close she was to my throbbing erection. I almost came. I went home and finished myself off.”

I thought that that had gone well; I liked the image of her patting him right next to his hard, leaking cock. “Why don’t you invite her out again after Sunday service? If she says yes, be sure to compliment her on her looks.”

Sunday morning, when she wasn't home at her usual time, my imagination almost ran amok. She was only about forty-five minutes late but by then I was quite horny. I gave her a big hug and kiss.

“What brought that on?” she asked.

“I was imagining you and Tom making out in some out-of-the-way parking spot. I know he has the hots for you, always has.” She found that amusing.

“You old pervert you.” But she was smiling and she leaned in for another kiss which I took for a go-ahead. I followed her to our bedroom and watched her remove her church clothes and we made love. This project was working out well for me, whether or not Tom would score.

The next time I saw Tom, he told me that she had blushed when he complimented her looks but there was no physical contact between them.

“Well, maybe after next choir practice, you should make a move, maybe kiss her cheek or pat her leg. I think you are making progress. Why not invite her for a real drink? Alcohol loosens her up sometimes. Be sure to tell her how pretty she is and how much you enjoy her company”

I was on pins and needles waiting the night of their next rehearsal, and sure enough, she was late getting home. I didn’t comment and she didn’t explain. She just did her dishabille, crawled into bed with me, and turned on her side to sleep.

Tom was beside himself with pride telling me what they had done this time. He convinced her to have a drink with him at a local bar. She would only have one, saying she needed to get home.

When they stopped in front of our house, she hesitated for a moment before getting out. Instead, she leaned over and kissed his cheek, then quickly got out and ran into the house.

Our chats now happened on the golf course; Tom had stopped coming to the basement for porn. When I commented on that he said, “It doesn’t seem right with her in the house. She might come down and catch us. I would be embarrassed.”

The next Sunday she returned at the normal time. “No coffee with the choir today?” I asked.

“No,” she replied. “I wasn’t in the mood. I don’t want to make a habit of hanging out after service is over. I’d rather be at home with you.” Well, as nice as that sounded, I wondered if something had happened between her and Tom. We spent a companionable afternoon together and that evening, she actually made a sexual overture and we fucked. It was special and lovely.

The next practice night she once again was late getting home. As she got ready for bed I inquired how practice had gone. “Everything went fine. The choir is coming together quite well. Afterward, Tom and I stopped off for a drink and compared notes. He is happy with the men’s section as well.”

When we played golf that Saturday, I waited until the round was nearly over for Tom to speak of their situation. I think he had no intention of giving me a report, so with our after-game beer, I said, “Are you going to tell me what happened with you and Blanche?”

Looking quite guilty and meek, he replied, “Blanche asked me not to say anything about it to you.” I gave him a long look. “OK, when we got back to your house, we sat for a while and she placed her hand on my thigh and rubbed it. I was hard as an iron bar. Then I grabbed her and kissed her on the mouth. She kissed me back

“We made out for several minutes. I got nervous wondering if you had heard my car and might be watching from the house. She gave my cock a squeeze and, after swearing me to secrecy, went into the house.”

I did not see Tom again that week. There was no choir rehearsal either. Blanche seemed quite cheerful when she informed me that the choir had been invited to perform a recital in two weeks. “We will be rehearsing several times between now and then and they may go long. Will that be OK for you?”

“Of course; I know how important the choir is for you. Do whatever you need to; I can amuse myself, and I’ll look forward to hearing the result.”

“The performance will be out of town and will require an overnight stay. You probably won’t want to spend the money on that, since we will repeat it at home the next week.” This was getting interesting; I suspected that something was afoot.

The next two weeks were strange; several late-night rehearsals. Blanche came home late and too tired for much more than a quick glass of wine and to bed. She seemed preoccupied most of the time, even reluctant to kiss me, preventing me from making any sexual overtures. I saw no sign of Tom all week.

My imagination was working overtime and I was abusing myself regularly without really needing internet porn; the movie in my head was stimulus enough.

When the day of the recital arrived, Blanche informed me that Tom had decided to drive his car rather than ride the bus with the rest of the group. She didn't say why. Of course, she would go with him to keep him company. This was it, I thought; if they haven’t already done the deed, it would happen tonight. When his car pulled up in front, she gave me a quick kiss, told me to behave myself, and didn’t let the door hit her ass as she left.

It was two days of agony and ecstasy for me, imagining, no, knowing what they were doing every free moment they had. I swung from elation that I had engineered a thawing of my sexless wife and suffering because she was bestowing her favors on another man. The fact that he is an old friend in need didn’t seem to help much.

I anxiously awaited their return the day after the performance. It seemed like it took longer than the four-hour drive that I knew it to be. My heart was pounding when I heard a car pull up out front. I forced myself to stay seated in the den until she came into the house.

I stood and hugged her, asking how the show had gone. She permitted the hug, not really returning it. Then she sat on the sofa and patted the seat beside her. I sat.

“It went very well and was well received. The group performed brilliantly. Did you enjoy your time alone? Don’t answer that; I know what you have been up to this last month or so and I want you to know you were successful. Perhaps more successful than you think or may want.

“Don’t blame Tom. Although I made him confess, I caught on before then. I’ve known you for many years; you are a familiar book to me. Tom was your pawn in this but it backfired on you.

“While we have known him for years, I am enjoying exploring new things with him, not least his bigger cock and better lovemaking. You may not have noticed, but Tom is still parked out front. I am at present more happy with him than with you. He is waiting for me to pack some things and go with him.”

I was thunderstruck. “What are you trying to tell me? Is this the end of thirty years of marriage? Suddenly you are in love with someone else?”

“Not someone else; someone with whom you hooked me up. A dear friend whom I have cared about for years, especially after my friend, his wife died. I can’t say right now what I will do in the future, but right now, today, I am going with him.

“I’m sure you can take care of yourself and enjoy your cuckold porn. It should feel quite real to you now.” She rose, went to their bedroom and, ten minutes later left.