The Lodger from Hell

That massive penis looked far too large to enter that dainty slit but it slid in amazingly easily. I had heard that a woman's vagina was capable of changing size depending on the cock that it had to accommodate but had always believed that this was a physical thing. It now seemed to be a mental process because Jane's twat undoubtedly adjusted in size before his great weapon got anywhere near.

Watching another man's prick entering for the first time what I had believed to be my private place should have been the worst moment of my life but it wasn't and it was my wife's confession that helped. When Jane had told me about her night with two strangers, a shaft of pure anguish had struck straight at my heart but now, the knowledge that other cocks had been up her since we first met somehow reduced the significance of the current trauma. That sexual exclusivity between us that I thought of as precious had already been lost.

If the mechanics of the act failed to hurt me deeply, Jane's reaction to that thrusting organ certainly did. She was no longer the woman I knew and loved, cumming so much that I could not tell if it was a long succession of separate orgasms or one long continuing event. It was possibly the vocal accompaniment that I felt worst for she used words of encouragement never spoken to me and the way that she kept saying his name showed that I no longer figured in her mind. The ordeal just went on and on and on - and I had to reluctantly admire both his self-control and stamina. For the concluding quarter of this mammoth shag, she just clung to him begging, "Fill me, fill me, fill me please, fill me, fill me, fill me please," repeating it over and over again like some kind of mantra. Eventually he did just that and this provoked fresh paroxysms of ecstatic reaction in my wife's body, causing her to smother his face with kisses and whisper endearments I never thought to hear her say to another man.

After one final thrust, Max pulled out, sat back on his heels and then stood up with an expression of animal satisfaction on his face. Looking down at me he said, "OK Dave, time for you to get involved."

During the long fuck, Jane's legs had either been over his shoulders or locked around his waist but now she was lying with her head against the back of the settee and upper torso resting on the seat. Her legs remained spread but her feet were on the floor supporting the rest of her body and that tiny twat that I had believed belonged only to me now gaped wide. Within the depths I could plainly see large quantities of pearly-grey semen and, despite my aching need, I doubted if I could poke my penis into that mess. Despite this mental abhorrence, my cock must have given an anticipatory twitch because Max laughed and said,

"No, not that - possibly later if you behave. For now I've nominated you as clean-up man. Have you come across the expression 'Cream pie' Dave? - it doesn't matter because you are going to become very familiar with the practice. I see that you do know - so don't you think you had better start slurping?"

The prospect that he was forcing upon me triggered my last rebellion against his domination. "Kiss my arse," I said.

Max laughed again but this time there was a humourless undertone. He took a step towards me and I expected to be hit but instead he crouched down with one hand resting lightly on the back of my neck. Leaning down to my ear he whispered, "I'm sorry you said that Dave because now I feel honour bound to make you kiss mine - in fact, before I leave, I intend to make you into an accomplished arse licker. But first things first."

As Max said those last words I felt an intense pain in the back of my neck - it was agony more than pain and felt as if every muscle in my neck had been atrophied. Automatically I moved away from the source of the pain and although his hand remained in contact, going in the direction he wanted meant a lessening of the hurt. When I was standing, he changed his grip into a light circular motion that dissipated the residual effects of the nerve hold but the trouble was he required me to continue moving forward and when I resisted, the pain returned. So, in fits and starts, I progressed until I was on my knees in front of my wife who laid waiting with eyes closed, her body still in an inverted Y shape. With no alternative, I tentatively reached out my tongue to touch where, only moments before, I had been reluctant to poke my prick.

The strange thing was that once I had overcome the revulsion of the mind, the actual flavour was not unpleasant - I suppose that the same effect can be applied to several exotic foods. I will reluctantly admit that I actually enjoyed the taste but whether this enjoyment applied that first time or was only acquired during the course of many subsequent repetitions, I cannot now say. Though, creamy, slightly acrid and something else, I tell myself that it is the combination with Jane's profuse vaginal juices that made it so palatable. While I was fulfilling the 'cuckold's function' that first time, it made Jane cum yet again and I felt that to be a bit of a triumph after having witnessed her being given all those multiple orgasms immediately before. Actually I was to find that while I could invariably bring her off with my mouth in those circumstances it became progressively more difficult to achieve the same effect with my cock.

Following my oral ministrations, Max gave her another energetic fuck and after this came to an explosive climax I sat poised on the edge of the chair unsure if a repetition would be called for or whether I was to be given my promised turn. It was neither. "You and I need to switch beds," Max announced looking at me, " - but I think you two need time alone to get things straight in your heads, so we will have a hot drink now and I will take mine upstairs. We can sort out the other stuff tomorrow."

The moment we were alone, Jane said, "You must think that I'm a real slut."

"You did seem rather willing," was the harshest condemnation that I would allow myself to say.

"That was just an act," she lied, her face a picture of abused innocence. "I know I said that I fancied him but it had nothing to do with that. I thought that if I appeared at all reluctant you were bound to fight him to protect me and I was afraid that he might hurt you really badly - so that is why I played along. Dave, he is going to be here for a whole month and there is nothing we can do about it. Until it is over, you will have to switch off your mind and do whatever he says, just the same as I am going to do." That was the last time she even tried to pretend that she wasn't an eager participant.

Although my tortured cock and balls were aching for release, I could not face doing it in the same place where he had ravaged her. I waited until we were in our bed, (I for the last time for a long time) but when I tried to get on top of her Jane pushed me away. "Darling," she said seductively, "You made it feel so nice last time that I want you to suck me again before you have me."

Next morning being Sunday we stayed in bed late and came down to Max cooking bacon and eggs, surprisingly for three. While we were eating he declared, "While I was waiting yesterday I have to admit that I poked about a bit and it seems that you two are rather desperately short of cash. Well I think I can help - or at least do my bit. I had intended to use here just as a base but in view of the, shall we say 'home entertainment, I'm now going to be around more, so as I will most likely be eating with you more often than anticipated, I'm going to pay £400 a month instead of £300. I addition, as I have decided to stay until my work in this area is finished, here is five months rent in advance."

With a sinking heat I took the cheque for £2100 that he proffered to me but it was almost knocked out of my hand as Jane hurtled past. Throwing her arms round him and smothering his face with kisses, she gushed, "Oh Max, you've saved our lives - how can we possibly thank you."

A short time later Max said, "Look, I don't want to disrupt your lives any more than is necessary so just carry on as I usually do. Dave, if you pop down to the newsagents and get me the Sunday Times and Observer, I'll just curl up in a corner for the rest of the day and you won't notice I'm here."

Already obeying his commands without question I took the £10 note held out to me and went out to the car. Tucked away with his papers, Max was as good as his promise and I went through the motions of doing the things I usually did. About an hour before lunch when Max was on his feet for some reason, he and Jane exchanged words out of my earshot and then they both disappeared into the kitchen. With growing curiosity I waited for either to reappear and when several minutes had elapsed I was unable to stop myself from creeping to quietly peer through the serving hatch. He was leaning against the fridge with my wife knelt before him, her head bobbing at his groin. I don't know why but I had the impression that this was a completely voluntary act on her part.

Completely disheartened I returned to my seat and some ten minutes later, Jane came back looking like the cat that had got the cream. The reappearance of Max was brief because he immediately headed upstairs to the bathroom and this gave me chance to ask Jane, "What went on in the kitchen - you were in there with him for quite a while."

"We were just chatting," she said looking me straight in the eye.

"You weren't, I saw you through the hatch," I accused.

Jane had the grace to blush. "Why ask if you knew? I sucked him off - it's no big deal."

"Did he order you to?"

"Ye... No he didn't - I was just showing my gratitude for him giving us the money - we can pay off a lot of our debts and the house will be safe."

"Maybe but it also means that we are going to be stuck with him for half a year instead of just the end of the month," I said, unable to keep the deep despair out of my voice."

"My wife gave me a bright smile and said, "Come on Dave, it's not going to be that bad. I mean, look at today, it is all so civilised. There is no reason at all that the three of us can't manage very well together."

Max rejoining us prevented any response I might have made and his first words killed the pleasant picture my wife had painted. "Dave, I want you upstairs to get this bedroom switch over and done with. Remember to take pyjamas, clothes, shoes and anything else you are going to need." I have to say that out of everything that occurred with Max, one of my lowest moments was having to transfer my things under the confident gaze of the man who was replacing me.

After an evening meal we sat watching TV with Max and I both in armchairs and Jane alone on the settee. This was a relief because I had half expected him to be pawing her all the time. By nine o'clock, I was beginning to think that Max was saving sexual activity until he had my wife alone upstairs but then he suddenly waved his hand in dismissive fashion at the screen and said, "This is crap - what say we have some fun instead." Jane was on her feet and pulling off clothes almost before he had finished speaking.

The sex session that ensued was worse than the night before and severely damaged any hope I had of surviving this intrusion into our lives. Jane was eager to get her mouth round his dick but he waved her aside, indicating that he wanted her on her back straight away. It was a more or less straight shag but Jane reacted like an addict being given a much needed fix and the words she called out in passion far exceeded in crudity any she had ever used to urge me on. After ejaculation he stood and waved me forward to perform my oral duty, grinning as if granting me a favour. I complied, not through fear of pain, but because the act no longer held the horror of that first time.

Duty done I made to return to sit down and wait until my services were required again but Max stopped me and stood with his hand resting ominously on the back of my neck. "Last night you insulted me and I mentioned then what I was going to require of you," he said softly. "Now are you going to do what I want or will I need to persuade you?"

My mind shrivelled at the thought of the agony he could so easily inflict and yet what he demanded was unthinkable. "I can't," I said, "I just can't."

"But you will," he contradicted, "You are going to do everything that you have to."

I don't know what he did because there was not even actual discomfort but I could feel all the neural pathways of my body opening to accept the surge of pain that was to follow. "I'll do it - please don't hurt me," I begged.

After THAT they fucked again, this time with her straddling his lap and bouncing herself up and down. I have to say that from an observer's point of view, that position is the most visual of them all because every nuance of his thick member disappearing up my wife's hungry cunt could be clearly seen. Maintaining the 'woman on top' theme, I had to perform the cunnilingus bit lying on the floor with Jane sitting on my mouth, thus bringing the gravity factor into play but after that Max sat back and graciously allowed me a turn. Sadly I wasted it, exploding almost the moment I was in, squirting what felt like a gallon up inside her, only to find that there was a sting in the tale. As Max put it, "I am never going to completely stop you enjoying your conjugal rights Dave so you need not worry about that - but the rule of the game is that you must always clean up after yourself." I will never understand why I was to consistently find eating my own cum to be a lot more distasteful than swallowing his.

While I am mentioning unpleasant matters, I might as well describe the demeaning act that Max was to regularly force me to perform on him. There were three different ways and manner of execution, with the particular one for each occasion chosen at his whim. In one he leaned back in an armchair with his legs spread over the arms, with me crouched before him and Jane close to one side watching (or supervising). I hated that position the worst because I couldn't escape the triumphal look on his face. A better position was when he lay face down, with Jane straddling the small of his back, holding apart the meaty ass cheeks to expose his anus for my attentions. The final position was when he was actually in the process of fucking my wife, with me being obliged to join in orally from the rear,

A warm drink all round closed the evening and I went to my solitary bed thinking that was it but soon sounds issuing from my old bedroom signalled that what had gone before was only the preliminaries. If anyone wonders whether it is worse to watch or only listen to a wife being well fucked by another man I can state categorically that listening is far worse. When watching, you are at least nominally included in the action if only in the role of voyeur but reduced to listening the overall feeling is one of total exclusion. That evening established a pattern that was followed thereafter with little variation except in the positions used.

It was strange going to work as usual and acting as if everything was still normal when the foundation of my marriage had changed so drastically. While not fully comprehending how I had got into the situation so rapidly, I berated myself for not having done a single thing to end it. In rational moments I made excuses by asking myself what exactly I could have done, for, even had I gone to the police, my wife was so enamoured by her new 'dominant male' that I believed her capable of supporting his story over mine.

Nature has a knack of putting in place mechanisms to ameliorate the stresses of life. A good example is the shock factor of prey animals that causes them to die quickly and not suffer the trauma of being eaten alive. Another is the well-known syndrome of hostages building a rapport with their captors. Possibly similar is the way that cuckolds start to take a kind of masochistic pleasure from their situation - I know that I did.

At the end of the first week, I found the Saturday overtime extremely stressful, constantly thinking of them alone and then Sunday was an exact replica of the first, even down to Jane giving Max a gratuitous blow-job half way through the day. Then it was back to the weekday routine. That first week at the office, I spent a lot of brooding about my situation and in consequence got very little work done but then I changed tack. Deciding that I needed to keep my mind occupied, I threw myself whole heartedly into my work and things did feel better. Until it got round to five o'clock I was far more relaxed and it was only when getting into my car for the return journey that my stomach cramps returned. You could say that the office had become my refuge from the humiliations of home.

A couple of weeks later, during the Friday evening, Max put his arms round my shoulder in friendly fashion and said, "I'm going away for the weekend first thing tomorrow Dave and won't be back till late Sunday. So if you want to take real advantage of my absence, why don't you ring in sick tomorrow morning and give the overtime a miss?"

I did actually work the Saturday morning but then took the rest of the day off. You may assume that we spent the afternoon humping and I admit that I had that expectation but Jane had other ideas. "I love you most when we are just doing normal things together," she told me. "The sex stuff just confuses things so if you don't mind Dave, I would rather we saved making love until tonight. I promise that you won't regret it." So the day was spent doing mundane things but I have to agree that it was very relaxing.

Somewhat earlier than usual, we went to bed with our arms entwined - sadly this romantic gesture was not one we had practised before. For most of the day Max had been out of my head but when we reached the top of the stairs, Jane almost ruined the mood by saying, "I think we had better go in your room - Max might not like it if..."

Passing the open main bedroom door I glanced in to see what was once my marital bed but was now the altar to their nocturnal passions but even this could not really disturb my rare sense of peace. We undressed without preliminaries and got into to bed. I am not going to describe how we made love except to say that she made it good for me - so good in fact that after the second time I could not stop myself from saying, "I still love you."

"I love you too," Jane dutifully murmured back but then she suddenly sat up and perched looking down at me with her ripe breasts only inches from my face. "You don't believe that though, do you?" she asked in a different tone of voice. "I do still love you; I love you just as much as I have ever done. What I feel for Max is not love, it's more the opposite - I don't mean hate but I certainly don't feel at all tender towards him. So knowing that I don't love him I want you to accept things as they are. When you think about it, apart from the sex and you having to sleep here in the spare room, life is not so terribly different from before Max came - and we are a lot better off financially now. If you really think about it you are actually getting more sex than before he arrived, even though that is mostly licking."

I thought she had finished speaking and I was about to respond but she had only paused to gather her thoughts before saying, "What I am trying to say is that the situation could be a whole lot better all round if you would let it. Whenever Max is doing something especially nice to me, I always look at you hoping you will be happy for me but you just stare back reproachfully, that makes me feel guilty and then I start resenting you. So when Max lets you have a quick shag after he has finished with me, I deliberately spoil it for you to pay you back for spoiling it for me. I ask if you have put it in yet when I know perfectly well that you have and then I tell you how much better Max is at fucking while you are actually doing to me. It is very mean of me but I can't seem to help myself so that's why I'm having this little chat to try and make things better for all of us."