The whole thing seemed so bizarre, there was sex but no sex was taking place.

I followed the two of them from the bathroom into the bedroom: Trish lead the way pressing her towel against the front of her body. Abe followed, naked and sporting an erection, and I was behind them both. Both mine and Abe’s eyes were fixed on Trish’s pert bottom, naked and wet, as it moved with each step she took. Both of us had erections, although mine was very much curtailed, and both of us wanted her. Yet, no sex was taking place.

Trish halted by her dressing table and began to dry herself but Abe stepped forward and took the towel from her, “Allow me,” he said.

Trish surrendered her towel to him and at the same time surrendered her naked body to him once again.

In the early stages of our relationship I had bathed and dried her, like perhaps many other husbands have done to their wives. It had never even crossed my mind that one day another man would do the same, not only that, but that I would be watching. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched a naked man, a man in a state of sexual excitement, toweling down my naked wife. It was such a sexy scene and yet no sex was taking place.

I also watched Trish. She stood there as Abe dried her with a look on her face that I hadn’t seen before. She seemed out of it to be honest. An onlooker might rightly assume that was under the influence of a strong narcotic, or perhaps even hypnotised, but she wasn’t. She was under the influence of lust. Her eyes were glazed over; her breathing was heavy and her nipples were very erect.

I watched as Abe knelt and dried her legs. When he reached between her thighs Trish rested her hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t just any touch; she was resting her hand to keep her balance. After he had put the finishing touches between her legs she kissed him.

“Do you know that is the most erotic thing that has ever happened to me?” she told him. “Thank you so much.”

Abe reached around her with his long arms and pulled her bottom against him as he kissed her, “It was my pleasure.” He told her.

There was a moment as they stood there in their embrace that I thought that they were going to fuck there and then. They looked into each other eyes and communicated, of that I’m sure, but Abe pulled away. Maybe he wanted to prolong things, I don’t know. I did know, however, that they would fuck. I knew that Trish had already made up her mind. She had set her boundary edge and that boundary edge was Abe fucking her.

On the bed next to me was Trish’s lingerie neatly laid out ready. Abe moved past me and picked up her black lacy bra. Trish was a 36C cup and Abe moved behind her and held it in front of her by the straps. Trish pushed her arms through them and Abe pulled them over her shoulders. As she pushed the cups over her breasts Abe fastened the bra. Trish looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the cups over her breasts.

“Thank you,” she said turning to him.

Abe moved past me again and picked up her suspender belt.

“I hope you are taking notes Tim,” he said to me. “You will be doing this next time.”

I watched him kneel down behind her and fasten the belt around her waist. He stood up and came back to the bed to pick up a pair of stockings and Trish sat down on her chair facing me. Abe went back to her and knelt down again with stockings in his hand. Trish lifted a foot and rested it on his thigh. Her thighs were parted and I could see her moist pink pussy lips, prominently pouting. Abe saw too and for a moment his hands hovered over her foot as he stared at her.

I don’t know how he managed it but he did. He managed to put one stocking over her foot and roll it up her leg to her thigh and likewise do the same with the other one. Trish stood up and he fastened one stocking then the other to the suspender straps. I don’t know how he managed it. If it had been me she would have been tossed onto the bed by now and fucked. I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to stop him and Trish would have stood no chance ether if Abe decided enough was enough and made moves to fuck her. As I said, she would have been on that bed long ago if it were me.

I had to admire his self control. It brought to mind though another story that I had read recently about a first time cuckolding. The ‘Bull’ was experienced and knew that patience was the key. Both the wife and husband would be nervous and unsure. Patience was the key. “The wife will be nervous on two counts,” he had said. “Nervous of her husband’s reaction to her being fucked and nervous of the ‘Bull’. She won’t be used to handling cock of that size and as much as it thrilled her it would also frighten her. Take your time and take her when she’s alone.”

I wondered if that was his game. Take her slowly and take her alone.

Abe brushed passed me again as he reached for her panties. It was the final piece of underwear. Trish stood, rested her hand on his shoulder and lifted each foot in turn so that he slip her panties over her feet. Abe hesitated once again as he pulled them up to the top of the legs. An inch higher and they would start to cover her pussy. I am sure that he seriously considered stopping and taking her there and then.

Trish must have sensed what I sensed as well. When Abe pulled her panties around her she kissed him. “Thank you,” she told him. “I appreciate that.”

She kissed him again and turned to me. “I think you guys can get dressed now and leave me to finish off alone.”

Abe and I sat waiting in the lounge while Trish finished dressing. Little was spoken between us as he sat with a glass of wine and I sat with a glass of orange juice. What could you say to the man that was going to be fucking your wife soon anyway?

I now knew what it was like to be a ‘cuckold in waiting.’ You know it is going happen. You know that your wife is soon going to be fucked by another man. You know that your wife is soon going to be enjoying a bigger and better man in bed than you.

You don’t want it to happen, of course. You are feeling hurt; feeling rejected and you are jealous. Yet, as you wait your sexual excitement is growing.

Another excerpt from a story sprang to mind. “I sat their waiting with him while my wife got ready for their date,” he had written. “From time to time he touched his groin, as men do when they are horny, adjusting themselves. His cock was getting harder in anticipation. Sometimes he would look in my direction with a smile on his face.”

Abe did the same but the look on his face was more of a satisfied look. I think he knew for certain that he would be fucking her. He was a patient man and he enjoyed the wait. When Trish appeared he stood up. He cried out, “Wow,” but I didn’t really pay much attention to it. My eyes instead were fixed on the obscene bulge in the front of his trousers.

Trish and Abe kissed. It was brief, almost as brief as the brush of her hand across his bulge. My heart sank.

Trish turned to me and smiled briefly as well, “We are ready when you are darling,” she said taking hold of his hand.

I was now beginning to experience what it was like to be a ‘cuckold bystander.’ You are now surplus to requirements. Your wife has a new interest now and it is he who will be getting all attention.

Abe and Trish sat in the backseat of the car while I drove them to the restaurant. I stopped at a cash machine first and handed Abe the money I had withdrawn. They both thanked me and then returned to their conversation. I was just like any other taxi driver that night taking a couple to their destination. They both gave their thanks as they got out and then they were gone.

I would have liked to have gone for a drink myself but that was out of the question. I did what other cuckolds had done before me, drove back home alone and waited. Waited for that call telling you that they were ready. Ready to be taken back home so that they could go to bed. It is the waiting that gets most cuckolds; waiting for your wife and her lover until they are ready.

“I hate the waiting,” one cuckold author had written. “You have to sit there alone with your thoughts running wild. Your wife and her lover are being intimate, sharing thoughts, as they wine and dine. At the same time they are getting ready; ready to go to bed with each other; ready to cuckold you. She will be thinking of his cock and he will be thinking of her pussy. You will not even enter their thoughts”

I tried watching the television. I even tried to take in a football game but it was hopeless. I just could not concentrate. I logged onto the site and into the story reviewers section. ’My First Night of Being Cuckolded,’ was top of the list. I had to smile to myself. I made no attempt to open and read it. I was living the damn thing why did I need to read another man’s account!

I closed my laptop lid as the telephone rang. I leapt up to answer it. It was Abe calling.

“We are ready to come home and go to bed now,” was all he said before hanging up.

I felt my knees wobble, “This is it,” I thought. “This is it.”

They were waiting outside when I arrived: standing in full public view hand in hand. This was public cuckolding; public humiliation. ‘Bulls’ liked to do that to the husband they are cuckolding. “I always like to humiliate my cuckold in public,” wrote one author, “not just like but insist on it. Hold her hand in places where she goes with her husband and kiss her in public as well. I like them to know that others know that his wife is fucking another man.”

They did not kiss, they spared me that humiliation, thank god but people that knew both us were likely to have passed and seen them. I could almost hear their voices now saying, “That’s Trish with another man. Trish must be fucking a black man.”

They did kiss in the car though. After Abe had leaned forward and handed me the change and the receipt for their meal, they settled back and held hands and then kissed. I kept the engine in neutral as I sat and stared into the rear view mirror watching them. It wasn’t a hungry passionate kiss. You know, the ones that come before the hands move over each other’s body as they work up to sex. It was a slow, tender, passionate kiss. Their hands did move over each other but Abe’s only touched her shoulder. Trish’s however rested on his cheek. To me it said “Thank you.” A ‘Thank you’ for what had taken place.

I set off not really wanting to take them home. I knew that they would be going to bed together, it wasn’t exactly rocket science for me to work that one out. I just wondered if I could take it. I knew that I couldn’t stop them, things had gone way too far for that. I also knew that part of me didn’t want to stop them either. I was in that moment that many cuckolds experience. A bit like purgatory, the gulf between heaven and hell.

“I watched them kiss,” one cuckolded husband had written describing his first time experience. “I was jealous; hurt and very jealous. I watched them touch and fondle. I watched my wife hold another man; hold his manhood like a treasured possession; hold his manhood in a way that she had never held mine. Then they broke away and looked in my direction. The man nodded towards the lounge door. It was my cue to leave them alone. I didn’t want to. I knew that within minutes of me leaving them alone together they would be fucking. I knew that another man would be fucking my wife. I stood up though, stood up and walked out of the door. I was hurt and very jealous and yet there was an excitement within. I wanted them to fuck. I wanted another man to fuck my wife.”

That was his purgatory. I felt it as I drove them home. I felt it as they sat together in the back seat of the car holding hands and yet my cock was straining against its cage. I was feeling hurt and jealous and yet I was so sexually excited.

The boundary was moving. Trish was pushing the edge further away. Or was it Trish doing the pushing? I could stop and say ‘No’ any time I wished. This was my story. It was my marriage. I had the right to stop it now but did I want to just now? Did I want to set down our boundary now and call a halt or did I want to journey on?