Journey into Cuckoldry Ch. 13: Lucky 13

The hotel bar was busy as Alice and I entered that New Year's Eve, the air filled with music and the babble of voices punctuated by the popping of champagne corks and the cheering that followed. In my plain black suit and tight clergyman's collar I knew I was in for a hot and uncomfortable evening but for a 'Tarts and Vicars' party there was only one type of costume I could have chosen.

By my side, under her coat my lovely, unfaithful wife was dressed like a LA street whore, 'Pretty Woman' style in a very short white plastic skirt under which she wore only a thong, white plastic knee boots and a tight fitting cropped vest top without a bra. Add to that her coarsely applied make-up, huge hoop earrings and large white plastic handbag and Julia Roberts would have had some stiff competition!

We looked the part to perfection; Alice in particular seemed to have acquired an aura of sluttiness to match her unfamiliar clothes and to me at least was exuding sexuality. I was trying to play my part by appearing as shocked and confused as a young clergyman should in the presence of such overt sexuality.

It was to be a great night out and a real treat for the grown-ups; our two kids were spending New Year at a sleepover party with two of their oldest friends; another family of four we had known well for years. Our friends had long ago insisted that Alice and I take this opportunity to have a late night out; to enjoy ourselves without worrying about coming home in time to look after our kids the next day.

We had accepted readily and gratefully because, as Cinderella might have said, it meant 'we could go to the ball'.

***

The ball in question was a grand fancy dress charity affair to be held in the ballroom of a smart city hotel on New Year's Eve. Elaine, the wife of my work colleague Peter, was heavily into fundraising and this year was going for broke with the biggest event she had ever staged. Over two hundred guests were due to take part in the light-hearted event, which would feature dinner, a live band and dancing afterwards. There would be a piper at midnight and table magicians too so apart from wanting to help a colleague, Alice and I had been keen to go.

The tickets were astronomically priced but it was all for a good cause so I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and paid up. Elaine had carefully planned the seating; we were due to sit with them and their friends on a table of ten. Practicality meant that our table was towards the back of the room where Elaine could easily slip in and out without disturbing the guests around. We were to be five couples; Elaine and Peter, our two selves, Carmen and Steve and two other couples who I knew vaguely from other company events.

The She-Devil and her husband had been invited by Elaine, who had known them since they had all lived in London years ago. When I first heard that the two of them had been invited I had been highly suspicious and had challenged both my wife and Carmen about the coincidence. In the past, the presence of Carmen and her Stud of a husband -- the man who had first seduced my wife in front of me and started us on our inexorable journey into cuckoldry - had usually resulted in my wife's insemination and my sexual humiliation.

Up to now this had been acceptable -- even enjoyable but I was concerned; being humiliated and cuckolded in private was one thing; having all my work colleagues know about my cuckold status would have been something else entirely. But I had been assured by both girls that the whole thing was nothing but a happy coincidence. This time at least - there was no plot afoot so eventually my worst suspicions were allayed and I began to look forward to the event again.

It had been fun choosing and buying costumes for the night. The dark suit I was wearing had been little-used in my wardrobe for several years. Finding the right clerical collar had required the internet but hadn't been difficult. Choosing my seriously-uncool hairstyle had been fun.

Most of the time had been spent on my wife's 'tart' get-up. We watched 'Pretty Woman' on DVD a couple of times to get ideas then, two weeks before the event, spent an afternoon in a nearby shopping centre finding the right clothes. The streets were packed with Christmas shoppers so we were buffeted as we walked round but we stuck to our mission.

To my astonishment, clothes I would have considered extremely slutty were easily found in most normal women's clothes shops. Many were even available in sizes suitable for girls I would have thought still children. I had read about the sexualisation of young girls in the papers and on TV but until now hadn't really seen it with my own eyes and, despite our own sexual history I was still rather shocked. Alice just laughed when I told her, accusing me of playing the grouchy, prudish Vicar much too early.

After an hour or so of searching, we ended up in Ann Summers from where the more racy elements of Alice's current costume were acquired before heading home.

When we arrival at our house we found two messages on the answerphone. The first was from the friends with whom our two kids had spent the afternoon. The message was that they would be staying for supper too so Alice and I were welcome to join them and make it a two-family event.

This seemed a very good idea; we were both tired and, besides, our friends were first class cooks.

The second message was from Carmen and was considerably less welcome; there were significant problems with their apartment in Spain which meant that they would have to spend most of Christmas and all of New Year over there dealing with builders.

This of course meant that they would not be able to come to the Vicars and Tarts Ball with us. Apart from the disappointment, the tickets had been ruinously expensive so their absence would have wasted a great deal of money -- admittedly theirs, but it was still a waste.

Alice was disappointed too. Whether she had hoped as I had that the evening might end up with her and Steve in bed together somewhere discreet I don't know but she was subdued for a good two hours afterwards.

Fortunately, things improved significantly on our return from dinner with our friends. The food, as always had been excellent, the wine light and cheerful and the conversation the same. As I was shepherding our kids towards the bathroom I heard my wife's mobile phone ring.

A few minutes later she joined me in the bedtime scrum upstairs with a broad smile on her face.

"Who was that? You're looking pleased," I grinned as I fought the nearly-empty toothpaste tube.

"Carmen!" she replied smugly.

My tummy felt tingly. Carmen's calls were seldom without implications for me.

"What did she want?"

"She says she's sold their tickets for the ball."

I raised my eyebrows in question as the toothpaste tube finally yielded its remaining contents.

"Julie's bought them. She says it's about time she had Gary had a bit of fun."

"What about the baby? He's very young still," I frowned.

"Julie's parents are happy to have the kids for a few hours. But they'll have to leave straight after midnight."

"Great!" I smiled.

That was indeed good news. The thought of having only work colleagues to talk to and people I didn't know hadn't sounded like a fun New Year to me.

With Julie and Gary coming, at least the four of us would have plenty in common.

I looked forward to the Ball once again.

***

As Alice and I crossed the bar foyer, a raised hand caught my attention. I looked in its direction; a good-looking man dressed in similarly clerical clothing was standing by a booth against the wall and gesturing for us to join him. I smiled and waved in acknowledgement at our friend Gary, the newly cuckolded husband of his lovely wife Julie who was sitting close by him on the bench seat.

We had agreed to meet in the bar of a smart hotel across the street from the hall in which our Ball was to take place. Arriving unfashionably early would have been a faux pas so a little pre-dinner chat would be very appropriate. Besides, it was some little time since we had met up with our friends, especially since their new baby had been born and I for one was keen to know how for their new lifestyle had progressed.

"There they are," I said, and began fighting my way through the crowd to where the young couple sat.

My wife followed close behind in the slipstream of parted bodies. After much jostling, we arrived at the booth and flopped down into onto the benches, Alice next to Gary, me alongside his pretty, unfaithful wife.

The two country Vicars inspected each other and grinned. We looked ridiculous; perfect for the evening of dinner, dancing and drinking that lay ahead of us. I turned and gave Julie a 'hello' kiss on the cheek. She smiled and flushed a little pink as I settled alongside her.

Julie looked simply amazing. Her baby had been born only three months earlier but already her figure had slimmed down to what Carmen assured me was even more slender and considerably sexier than she had been before; before both the baby and the first big step down the road to infidelity she and her husband had recently taken.

Knowing what effect the Hotwife lifestyle had on my own wife's figure I could easily believe it.

Julie's chosen costume was almost a negative image of Alice's with a black plastic skirt and boots and a tacky, garish yellow top. She wore similarly large amounts of costume jewellery, her lips were bright red, her eye make-up heavy and badly applied and she exuded cheap scent. Where my wife was blonde, Julie's hair was dark and shone in the bar's low lighting.

She looked so sexy I had an immediate erection which my tight underpants began to strangle painfully.

It was impossible to sit next to this lovely woman without remembering the night at Carmen and Steve's 'gathering' not so many months ago; an incredible night during which my lovely wife had been fucked wildly by both of her lovers and had lost her anal virginity right in front of me.

What was even more extraordinary, while this was happening I, Mister Cuckold had given the heavily pregnant Julie her first ever oral sex.

It had been simply incredible; Julie's body had reacted more intensely than any I had licked, kissed or sucked before and she had almost immediately reached a shattering orgasm pressed hard against my face. The smell and taste of her vaginal juices -- so different from my wife's or Carmen's - as they gushed into my mouth will remain with me forever.

Although I was not permitted to go on and fuck Julie, in my own small way I had become both a bull and a cuckold in a single evening. Life is strange!

The fact that her husband had watched all this happen and had done nothing to prevent it mirrored my own situation with Alice so many times, bringing us closer together if not actually close as friends.

"How's the baby?" I asked after we had kissed our hellos, perhaps a little more intimately than might have happened in the past.

"She's great," Julie beamed. "Mum and Dad are keeping an eye on her for a few hours."

"Will she be okay without you at this age?"

"I've left a couple of bottles but we're leaving on the stroke of midnight anyway."

"It's a pity the She-Devil can't join us," I asked then flushed pink in embarrassment.

"Who?" Gary asked.

"Um... Carmen," I replied.

"Is that what you call her? It's perfect!" Julie explained with a giggle.

I looked across at my sexy wife. Alice seemed lost in thought; no doubt the thought of Carmen and Steve in Spain had brought back memories of that holiday into her mind too. Eventually she noticed me watching and grinned broadly before asking brightly:

"Where's the waitress? I could do with a drink!"

"No table service at New Year," Gary told her. "It's too busy."

"I'll go to the bar," I volunteered.

"I'll come with you," Gary added. "What would you like, Ladies?"

Julie was well in character and ordered the sort of flashy, ostentatious drink that a cheap tart might well choose. Not to be outdone, Alice ordered a cocktail with an even more sexual name and a moment later Gary and I were jockeying for position at the crowded bar.

Getting served wasn't too big a problem but waiting for the girls' complicated cocktails to be prepared took some time. As we returned to the booth, our hands full of brimming glasses we saw a middle-aged man in a lounge suit leaning over and talking to Julie. Seeing us returning, he stood up quickly and guiltily before slipping rapidly away into the crowds.

As Gary and I placed the drinks on the table, it was clear from the girls' fits of giggling that something hilarious had just happened.

I slipped back alongside Julie who was covering her face with her hands.

"What's going on?" I asked my wife who was trying to suppress a convulsive laugh.

"Tell them, Jules," she urged.

"You tell them. It's embarrassing," she responded.

"Someone tell us, for God's sake," Gary demanded, the girls' laughter becoming contagious.

"Okay, Okay," Alice eventually said. "I think we might have done a bit too well with our costumes tonight."

I raised an enquiring eyebrow. Julie burst out laughing.

"Your wife and I have just been propositioned," she said, giggling.

"What?"

"That... Gentleman was trying to book the pair of us for a girl-on-girl show for a few of his friends after midnight."

"He thought you were real prostitutes?" Gary gasped in disbelief.

"He certainly did. He asked how much we wanted for an all-nighter with the four of them," Alice added.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed. "What did you say?"

"I asked what he usually paid," she replied.

"She did!" Julie spluttered. "I couldn't believe you were so cool about it, Ali."

I suddenly realised Julie had called my wife by the pet name only her first lover, Steve used. Clearly Julie had been spending a lot of time with him and they had been discussing my wife and me. The thought unsettled me for a moment but Alice's response snapped me back.

"He offered five hundred quid for what was left of the night."

"Two fifty each?" I asked stupidly.

"Too right, Cucky-Boy. I'm not just a cheap whore you know!"

We all laughed but I could tell that something in what had happened had had a profound effect on my lovely wife. Julie and Gary knew about my cuckold status only too well; Gary being in a similar place himself, but to use our private name in a crowded bar meant my wife was at least partially aroused already.

"Where is he now?" I asked.

Julie pointed to a far corner booth where two rather brassily-dressed girls in their late twenties were sitting.

"Maybe he'll get lucky this time," she giggled.

I stood and watched for a moment. The man had moved alongside the taller of the two girls and appeared to be negotiating with her. There were lots of smiles and chat then he began to reach into his jacket pocket for his wallet. The girl alongside him immediately put her hand on his arm to prevent him, whispered something and a minute later all three of them left the bar together.

Intrigued, I returned to our table and re-joined the bubbly conversation. After a couple more drinks we made our way across the street to the function room where our party was to take place, laughing and giggling all the way.

***

The ballroom's foyer was crowded as we queued up for the cloakroom. Gasps and giggles accompanied each guest's appearance as coats were removed and costumes revealed in all their glory.

A small cheer rose when Alice and Julie's street-hooker clothes were exposed and I had to agree that in a coarse, slutty way, the two girls looked stunning. The whole world could see that Julie had clearly recovered her pre-baby figure -- there was precious little costume to conceal the fact and of course since she had become a Hotwife, Alice's figure had become more slender and more athletic by the month.

I felt proud of my desirable, unfaithful wife as we entered the dark, crowded, over-heated ballroom and made our way towards our table. My eyes bulged in astonishment; although our costumes had looked outrageous at home and in the hotel bar, as soon as we entered the ballroom I realised that we had actually been relatively modest. I saw at least three Bishops in full regalia and even one Pope, blessing the other guests with champagne as he passed through the crush.

But it was the way the women had dressed that made my eyes pop and my mind boggle. Alice and Julie looked like street hookers; some of the other wives and girlfriends had taken the word 'tarts' to lengths I hadn't imagined.

Acres of female flesh were visible all around us (whether or not that flesh was suitable for display) and I learned whole new meanings for the words 'short' and 'revealing'. There were belts masquerading as skirts, dresses so tight a surgeon would be needed to remove them and necklines so low an escaping breast was inevitable -- possibly even planned.

Going by the extremely high cut of some of the underwear being ostentatiously worn, I suspected the local salons had done brisk bikini-line business too. Alice of course was always fully shaven 'down there' so the sight of stray and escaping pubic hair on some of the other women wasn't something I was expecting.

We were the last to arrive at the table but were immediately made very welcome and introduced to the other guests.

Alice and I already knew Elaine and Peter from work events, though not very well. Peter was a tall, muscular man in his late thirties who had started playing rugby at school and never stopped. Taller than me, he had a rather intimidating, powerful frame, short dark hair and an engaging smile which he used often, especially with the ladies. He was dressed like me, as a country parson but unlike me, his jacket struggled to contain the muscles underneath.

Elaine was one of those competent, well-organised, pleasant-yet-slightly-officious women who permeate British society. A little older than her husband and significantly shorter, she had clearly been very pretty at one time and still possessed a nice, if perhaps slightly plump figure. She was recognisably dressed as a 'tart' but a very modest one, more like a Second World War 'honey trap' agent than the two street prostitutes I had arrived with.

From the start Elaine announced that she would probably have to be away from the table a lot to 'keep an eye on things'. This prediction was amply fulfilled; I don't think she spend more than a quarter of the meal in her seat which, something which certainly contributed to the later events.

The other four guests were friends of Peter and Elaine from the village in which they lived, about fifteen miles out of town. A good twenty years older, they were friendly and welcoming too.

The two men had clearly been shopping in the same place as their friend because, apart from the bottle-thick glasses one of them wore, they all looked identical. Their wives though had made much more of an effort. Despite being obviously in their fifties or even sixties, both had chosen stockings and suspender belts with high heels. Hilary, the older, blonder woman was wearing a basque which presented her surprisingly-firm breasts so well I suspected a surgeon's handiwork.

I had to admit that, despite the age difference, both women looked remarkably attractive.

Of course Alice and Julie went down extremely well with the woman and especially with the men, whose eyes began to undress them from the first handshake and polite kiss on the cheek. Peter seemed particularly smitten and insisted that they sit either side of him because 'he would be without a wife for most of the evening'.

And so the evening began and began well.

Before dinner arrived there was a great deal of chat, a lot of drinking and of course hilarity at the costumes all around us. There was a fair amount of bitchiness from the girls too about the inadvisability of larger women choosing tight fitting costumes but it was all in good humour.