I suppose most would say that I have lived a charmed life; raised in a middle-class suburban home, the only child of indulgent parents. I was a generally well-behaved girl who performed well in school and did not cause problems for them.

After I started junior high, my mother took a job, leaving me with some alone time in the afternoons.

At age sixteen, my dad took me for a driver’s license and my mother had the talk and set me up with birth control. I also discovered my father’s Penthouse magazine stash and my education took a big step forward. Rooting around mother’s drawers I also found a book on feminine hygiene issues where I learned about clitoral stimulation.

I met John, my future husband when I was a junior in college and he was a senior. Back in high school, I made the decision that I would save my virginity for whomever I married. So, technically I was a virgin when we met. This despite the fact that, for years I had been regularly petting in the back seat of cars.

I loved kissing and groping boys and loved playing with their penises while they fondled my tiny breasts. Frankly, I was envious of those amazing appendages that boys possessed. They seemed endlessly variable and intriguing. To have a tool that responded so prominently to the suggestion of sex seemed amazing to me. They varied in size, color, texture, and seemed to send their owners into paroxysms of pleasure at the slightest touch.

When I discovered uncut ones, a whole new field of study opened for me. I went from holding, to stroking, to licking, to devouring, and finally to swallowing the cum that I was rewarded with. I acquired a bit of a reputation as a slut in high school.

One of the things that distinguished John was the enthusiasm with which he pleasured me orally. He and I married as soon as I graduated and a year later I was pregnant. John got his CPA and our life became the American dream, raising two boys. We started out buying a home in a subdivision and shortly after we moved in, another couple moved next door.

Tom and Yvonne became our closest friends. They had boys around the same age as ours who became inseparable with them. Tom was a dentist and Yvonne I remembered from college, though I didn’t actually know her. She had a reputation for being fast in those days.

Tom became our family dentist and she and I became very close, sharing and doing everything together. Sex in those days was relegated to under the covers, quiet night-time quickies if we were not too tired. Tom and Yvonne seemed to be having more sex than we were, and she once remarked that he was well-endowed. I wondered if John and my sex life was normal.

Once Tom’s practice became established they moved to a better neighborhood, but we girls still kept in very close contact. They went to the same church as I did and we all joined the choir. John was not a church-goer. I sometimes felt that Tom had a little crush on me but he never did anything untoward.

Finally, the boys went off to college and we found ourselves with the proverbial empty nest. Suddenly we had all this free time and weren’t sure what to do with it. John set up a man-cave in the basement and began to spend a lot of time there.

Yvonne became a special friend, the sister I never had. She was a great comfort when I began having some woman troubles. I had stopped menstruating and experienced severe mood swings. My doctor suggested hormone supplements; which seemed to help. My interest in sex improved somewhat, but John and I were often out of synch in bed. Yvonne laughingly suggested that I needed a boyfriend.

Then disaster struck; Yvonne got sick and quickly died. While I attended her in her last days, she asked me to please take care of Tom after she was gone. Of course, I promised to, though I had no idea what that meant. Well, it meant that for about a year after, he spent a lot of time with us, mainly in John’s hide-out watching porn with him.

If they weren’t playing golf or doing whatever in the basement, he was mooning away, at a loss what to do with himself. He seemed unable to get back in a social situation except with us.

At least once per week, I would invite him to stay for dinner fearing that his diet was all fast food. He and I continued singing and one week he suggested that we ride-share to church and choir rehearsals. I gladly agreed and we used that time to share personal information and discuss my husband’s peccadilloes.

Tom let me know that they watched a lot of cuckold porn and that they both found it exciting. I needed him to explain what it was and how my husband enjoyed it. While he described to me how a cuckold shares his wife it was abundantly clear that he became aroused.

I could see the outline of his cock in his pants. Yvonne had not been exaggerating about his size. I was intrigued and a little aroused myself. Memories of my young single days started to crowd into my head.

“Do you ever talk about me?” I asked him.

“Yes, sometimes,” he mumbled, clearly ill at ease.

“What about me? Is it about sex?” He nodded. “Is it good?” Another nod.

We arrived at my house and before getting out of the car I patted his thigh right next to his hard cock and kissed him on the cheek. “Until next time,” I said as I got out of the car.

John was waiting for me in the TV room. He turned it off and we embraced and kissed. I was pleasantly surprised that he was horny and before I knew it I was lying back with my panties hanging from one ankle and his tongue making my clit vibrate.

I confess that my mind was thinking about the size of Tom’s erection and how it would be to suck on it. But I happily brought my husband off and greedily swallowed his large load of cum. Sadly, John is a one-hit wonder these days in his mid-fifties. I decided to learn more about cuckolding on the internet.

I was being presented with a lot of confusing information and I was not comfortable with what I was learning. Was my husband bisexual? Did he want to be cuckolded, whatever that entailed? Why was Tom telling me about their clandestine activities?

Why was I thinking about his cock and, maybe, wanting to play with it. Did I want to fuck him? He certainly seemed like he wanted to fuck me.

After the next choir rehearsal, Tom invited me to stop for coffee on the way home. He brought two cups back to the car while I waited. Of course, the conversation reverted to his and John’s porn sessions.

I asked him to explain how cuckolding worked and what my husband liked about it. When he got to the part about the cuck being subjugated to the wife and her bull, it didn’t sound like the John I knew. He always struck me as an alpha male.

He told me that they have masturbated together and touched each other’s penises. I pictured in my mind the two of them stroking each other’s cocks. I felt my pussy getting wet. While he talked, I reached over and held his obvious erection through his slacks.

I was getting very horny and to me, their mutual masturbation constituted extra-marital sex, which gave me justification for my next move. I undid his pants and took out his cock. His moan was so loud when I grasped it that I worried that someone nearby would hear. Perhaps my memory was poor, but I didn’t recall handling one that big before.

I was practically salivating wanting to get my mouth on that beauty, coffee forgotten, as I slowly slid my hand up and down his shaft, watching his foreskin cover and then expose his large glans.

I cursed those damned center consoles which make giving head difficult for us elders. While one hand stroked his cock, my other one reached in and cradled his full balls, my fingers tickling his taint.

For a moment I was back in college admiring a fresh new cock. “I want so badly to lick and suck your beautiful cock Tom. Would you like that?” I whispered, but too late; Tom’s cock exploded, spraying his cum all over the steering wheel and his pants. He trembled uncontrollably for as long as my hand was on it.

I let go of him, held my cum-covered hand to his face, “Smell that.” After licking my palm, I leaned in and kissed him. We used his shirt to clean up the mess. On the way home I asked, “Are you going to tell John about this?”

“He will insist on it. He wants to hear what happens every time. I think he wants me to seduce you, that he wants to be cuckolded.”

“And what do you want? I’m not a teenager fucking in the back of a car. Does he think you will do me at home?” I asked. By this time we were pulling up in front of my house. This time my goodnight kiss was the real thing, leaving both of us gasping. I ran into the house and attacked my husband with no explanation. He didn’t ask.

This time my pussy was ready for a hard cock with no preparation needed; I was eager and wet and he seemed to be instantly ready to fuck me.

“Were you wondering what Tom and I were doing?” I asked.

“Mmm, yes. I know he badly wants to fuck you, he has had the hots for you for a long time. I imagine it is only a matter of time until he comes out and asks.”

“And what if he did? What should I have done?” I felt a sinister urge to tease John. “What if I let him kiss me and touch me here?” I pointed at my pussy.

“I guess you’ll know what you want to do. You are an adult.” I really wanted to burst his little scheme, but kept quiet and opened my legs for him to pleasure me. He went down with enthusiasm.

I think it was the next practice when the choirmaster announced that the group was invited to give a concert in a neighboring city. A schedule of rehearsals was handed out. Tom asked me to go for a drink before taking me home.

We went to a part of town that was unfamiliar to me and sat in a dark, quiet corner of a bar that he had apparently scouted earlier. Tom was excited that this concert afforded us the opportunity to go to the next, ultimate step in our little sexual program.

He finally confessed that not only was John encouraging him to seduce me, but also giving him pointers how, and that he reported to him everything we did. I made him promise not to tell my husband that I knew about everything.

This bar was clearly a venue for clandestine activities, low lighting and secluded booths with lots of room for playing slap and tickle without being recognized. Very soon we were kissing and groping each other. Then we danced when a slow number played on the jukebox.

On the dance floor, I was concerned about being seen performing what amounted to a vertical sex act, so we went back to our little nest to make out. The more we made out, the more determined I became to sample his big uncut cock. I went to the ladies' room and removed my panties and bra.

Tom turns out to be a great kisser and soon he was fondling my tits and his cock was in my hand. This time he had a little more control, so I had time to examine his magnificent sex engine in detail while he played with my breasts.

However, when I bent down and put my lips around his throbbing cock head, I almost immediately received a gush of cum which I frantically swallowed to contain the mess. I bet every head in the bar turned at Tom’s loud yell. We quickly put ourselves back together, he paid the check and we left.

On the way home I thought about the interesting dynamic that was developing among the three of us. I had a hopeful lover trying desperately to get to fourth base with me under advice from my husband who sits at home imagining what we are up to, then wants to jump my bones when I get back.

It reminded me of my younger days when boys lined up to date me knowing that they would likely at least get a hand job, and hoping for the ultimate thrill of fucking me. There was a sense of power in those situations that was intriguing and a bit intoxicating.

The only difference now was that I wanted badly to experience being fucked by Tom’s big, beautiful cock. Maybe the hormone supplements were kicking in for me. I would have to figure out how to make that happen.

By the time we reached my house, Tom was hard again and didn’t want me to go in the house, but I was not ready to risk my husband looking out the window and discovering us, so I sent Tom home to jerk off. I doubt that he made it that far.

“You are a bit late tonight,” John said. “Shall we sit and have a drink before bed?”

“Yes please, a G&T? Tom asked me out for a drink after practice.”

I told John about the concert and the enhanced rehearsal schedule for the next few weeks.

“Where did he take you?” John asked, handing me my drink.

“To a dark make-out bar, hoping to get me tipsy and have his way with me. No, just joking. We talked about the concert and whether or not we would have to spend the night there. He liked the idea of a night away, we are both looking forward to it.”

John looked at me intently then said, “He behaved himself, I hope. I wasn’t kidding when I told you he has the hots for you.”

Looking him in the eyes I replied, “Oh he’s a pussycat. Don’t worry, I can handle him. He’ll do anything I ask. I try to convince him of the benefits of dating again, but I think he’s a lost cause, he isn’t interested in dating just now.”

I could see the next question forming in his head. I grabbed his hand and said, “I’m ready for bed, how about you.” I pulled him toward the bedroom. We landed on the bed together, dropping most of our clothes on the way and John immediately dove between my legs and began to lick my pussy.

He used his fingers to pry my pussy lips open and studied my vagina for a moment, then resumed his ministrations. I wondered if he was hoping to detect traces of Tom there, to finally know that he has been cuckolded. He licked me to a nice orgasm before mounting me and filling me with his load. I came on his tongue and on his cock

I was really enjoying the extra attention that my husband paid to me on those nights, and I wondered what he would do the first time he found evidence that his wife had cuckolded him.

After some fits and starts, we have now settled into a comfortable menage a trois. Tom is indeed a generous and wonderful lover. John is learning to spend more effort in foreplay as well as doing clean-up chores. They both respond well to my velvet reins, which I wield with gentle love and affection.

My next plateau will be to see how they react to an occasional visit from my young bull, Jim.