Claire and Tim are married with three children and live in London. They have been enjoying phone sex while Tim is away on business. Claire’s mother has persuaded them to let her best friend’s son Simon stay with them as a lodger while he spends a twelve week internship with a Premier League Football Club.

Simon has unwittingly become a recurring theme in their phone sex fantasies. Claire’s fantasies in particular have become very much more vivid recently…

***

The last week of Simon’s placement was due to start on the Monday but unusually, he had planned his arrival by a very early train on Monday morning. This meant I wouldn’t get to see him at all during the week because I myself had to fly back out to Brazil on an equally early morning flight.

Simon had returned to the house after work in time to help with dinner, looking and feeling elated – the report from his placement had been enthusiastic and he was hoping for a ‘first’ in his degree and a permanent job after graduation. He had been effusive in his thanks to Claire for all her help.

This I learned when I called Claire on Monday night, lying naked on my bed, imagining her equally naked on our double bed at home. I listened to the story of her day with eagerness, wondering how Simon’s gratitude might manifest itself.

"So did you do more than kiss this time?"

There was a pleasing pause and I ran my hand up and down my erect cock as I awaited the answer, not sure what I wanted to hear.

"Umm, yes. We did,” she finally said.

“What did you let him do?”

“He... I let him strip me naked after I gave him the blow job," Claire said.

“Completely naked?”

“Completely naked.”

“Where?”

“In the lounge.”

“In the lounge?”

“Yes.”

“What about the kids?”

“They were asleep. It was late.”

“Did he kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Did he lick you... down there?”

“What? Oh God! Tim! How can you ask that?”

“Did he?” I insisted.

“Well….Yes he did!” she raised her voice excitedly. I could hear her fingers moving over her body in the background.

"Jesus! Did you let him fuck you?" I asked.

"NO!” she protested. “No I didn’t let him!” There was a pause but I was sure I could hear her fingers still working on her body.

“Did he make you cum?”

“Oh God, I'm so turned on!" she eventually said, her voice slightly slurred. "No. I didn’t come! After he had licked me a couple of times, I realised that if I let him make me cum with his tongue I'd have to let him fuck me too. I’m not ready for that so I made him stop!"

This was the furthest, most realistic scenario we had ever played. My erection actually hurt!

"Oh, why did you make him stop? Don't you want to fuck him?" I pleaded.

"I can't!" she cried. "He's just a kid! I’m married to you! I can't let him fuck me!"

"Why not? I know you love me. I love you, but I think you’ve fallen in love with Simon too; or at the very least in lust!”

I paused, the idea in my mind almost too much to speak aloud.

“This is the most amazing scenario I can ever imagine! Go ahead and fuck him, Claire! God, just imagining you two together is almost making me cum!" I said. “It’s no sin if I say it’s okay, is it? Just make sure you tell me all about it!”

"I'm not going to let him fuck me!" she said before she hung up abruptly, leaving me to finish myself off all alone, my head spinning.

The next night was Tuesday and I called quite late. 

“Well? Did you do it?” I asked eagerly. “What happened?”

“We put the kids to bed as usual...”

“Go on!” I urged.

“I undressed myself before doing it to him this time.”

“Did you let him touch you again?”

“I wouldn't let him touch my pussy, but he could tell how wet I was between my thighs.”

“Did he touch you at all?” I insisted.

“Oh yes!”

“Where?”

“Mostly my boobs and my bum.”

“Did you cum?”

“No. Whenever I got close to coming, I made him stop."

"Is his cock big?" I asked.

“You already asked me that!”

“Tell me again… please!” I insisted.

"He's longer than you, but skinnier. I can get all of him down my throat if I really try," she said.

"When he cums, is there a lot of semen?" I asked.

"Loads! It’s hard to swallow it all!“

"You swallowed?”

“Yes I swallowed.”

“Wow! Just imagine how it would feel spraying onto your cervix!" I said.

"I've proved that I can resist fucking him, and I'm hanging up now," she said, then hung up, leaving me to finish myself off alone.

On Wednesday night, I got a 'busy' tone when I called. It was still busy when I called again in ten minutes. I called periodically until eleven o'clock Brazil time which was around three a.m. in London when Claire finally picked up the phone.

"Tim, is that you?" she asked, her voice sounded dreamy as if she was half drunk or half asleep.

"Yes," I replied. There was a long pause. "We did it," she stated simply, her words definitely slurred.

"You fucked him," I said.

"Oh yes," her voice was soft and gentle, “and he fucked me. God! He fucked me!”

“Is he still there?”

“No. He’s in his bedroom. I didn’t want the kids to know.”

My chest was tight and my heart was thumping with fear and excitement.

"Then tell me all about it," I demanded, “From the beginning.”

“But Tim...” she began to protest.

“You promised me, Claire,” I insisted.

She sighed then, with many long breaths and pauses, reluctantly told me about her day.

After the previous evening’s close encounter, Tuesday night for Claire had been filled with erotic dreams. She couldn’t or wouldn’t tell me the details but when she woke up on Wednesday morning and gone into the shower, she had felt a heat between her thighs that she hadn’t felt for a long time.

She had managed not to touch herself, hoping that keeping sex off her mind during the day would help her resist Simon in the evening. However, she had been denied a proper orgasm for several days and her pussy seemed constantly aroused and wet.

She had had to change her panties after taking the kids to school, the rubbing of her tight jeans being too arousing for her sensitive vulva.

She had had to change them again before lunch. This time she had put on a short skirt to prevent any further titillation of her most private parts.

But this hadn’t worked. The feel of cool air on her bare legs and damp vulva had aroused her still further and she had felt compelled to change once again before picking up the kids from school, this time into a longer skirt and tights. But by now her vulva was so inflamed that even this couldn’t take her attention away from her arousal and she was on her fourth pair of panties for the day when Simon arrived home.

From the moment she opened the door, she had known the outcome was inevitable. In his skin-tight shorts and close fitting top, Claire had found him utterly irresistible. Although she had greeted him with the usual peck on the cheek, then a short but passionate kiss on the lips, she had known she'd been lying to herself.

She was going to fuck him.

That night.

In our house.

She had tried to keep her distance during dinner with the kids, half worried that if she let him get too close, she'd tear off his clothes and hers, and fuck him there and then in front of them all. The clocks in the house ticked oh-so-slowly as she waited impatiently for the kids' bedtime to arrive, her inflamed vulva feeling the slightest movement of her panties or the touch of a chair against its lips.

Then, finally, the kids were put into bed, stories read, doors closed. The moment had come.

Claire told me she had calmly taken him by the hand and led him to our bedroom where, without a word, she began to undress in front of him. Simon had immediately taken the hint and within a minute they were both naked.

Claire had lain down on the bed, her eyes never leaving Simon’s. She had spread her legs brazenly wide – something she had never done even with me - and told him to take her.

No foreplay. No sensitivity. She wanted to be fucked. By him. Now.

He had entered her in a single, deep, powerful stroke, all the way in until she felt the pressure of his swollen end against her cervix and his pubic hair ground against her mound.

“Wow!” I gasped into the phone as she paused, stroking my painfully hard erection. “How did it feel?”

“It felt… I can’t describe it... Oh God Tim! It was so amazing. Apart from you, it’s the only cock that’s ever been inside me…” Her voice trailed off again. “I think I cried a little. I kept thinking of you but still couldn’t stop myself.”

“Did you cum?”

“Almost during his first stroke!”

“Did he cum quickly?”

“Barely a dozen strokes later.”

“Did he cum inside you?”

A long pause, then a deep sigh.

“Yes! Oh God yes!”

“Oh Claire, you really, actually did it!” I almost cheered in my room.

She told me in an exhausted voice how they had done it twice more during the evening before Simon had reluctantly gone to spend what was left of the night in his own bedroom. He had left only minutes before I called and her body was still wet and sticky with his semen.

“So… is he good in bed?” I asked apprehensively.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly!”

“You really want to know?”

“Don’t tease me, Claire! At least, don’t tease me any more.”

“Tim, it was unbelievable! He was so so sooo… good!”

A wave of jealousy washed over me but with it came an even bigger wave of arousal. Claire continued, her voice choking in her throat.

“I thought I was going to die! My chest ached! My belly hurt! I thought I’d never breathe again. I thought I would pee myself! He was just…..”

Her voice faded away and I was left with very mixed emotions and a very sticky belly.

"I just came while you were telling me that," I said, panting. "That's so, so hot!"

There was yet another long pause.

"I'm going to have to let him fuck me again tomorrow, you know that!" Claire said. “I can’t stop myself now!”

"I know! I want to hear all about it!" I replied.

“Tim?” Claire asked, her voice suddenly sober.

“What?” I asked anxiously.

"You have remembered I'm not on the pill, haven’t you?”

“Of course I know. I had the snip and…”

She stopped me short. “Well we didn’t use a condom and there’s a good chance I'm fertile this week.”

I gulped. Suddenly reality hit me. Perhaps this wasn’t a fantasy after all. Or had Claire just taken our telephone sex to a level I never dreamed existed.

Was it all real after all? Jesus!

“Tim? Are you still there? Are you sure you can handle all the consequences?" she asked.

This time, it was my turn for the long pause. My heart thumped and my head spun with the ideas that filled it. I hadn’t given the idea of Claire getting pregnant a moment’s thought.

Eventually I found the words.

"Do it,” I said determinedly, “the worst that can happen is that you fall pregnant.” I paused as if thinking it over carefully but my mind was already made up. “We’ve talked about having another baby – maybe even two now the kids are older.”

“But it wouldn’t be yours,” she reminded me unnecessarily. “Could you live with that?”

I paused even longer before replying, scarcely able to believe my own words.

“If you want it then I want it,” I waited listening to my wife’s heavy breathing down the phone, "but are you sure YOU can handle it? It'll be your body the baby would be growing in!"

"I have no idea, truly I don’t,” she replied. “I just know that I… I can’t help myself, Tim. I just can’t!"

There was a pause but she didn’t seem to want to hang up.

"I'll have to change the sheets soon. They’re getting a bit stained.”

My heart leapt. It hadn’t crossed my mind that my there could be real evidence for me to see; real solid proof. A terrible idea occurred to me.

"Don't change them," I said, "I want to see the messy sheets. Keep the windows closed too!"

"But the bedroom already really smells like sex! It will leak into the rest of the house," she said.

"Oh wow! I can't wait!” I gasped, amazed at how much the idea was arousing me. “I wish I could feel his sperm still inside you when I fuck you!"

"I never imagined you were so kinky, Tim!" 

“So don’t clean yourself too thoroughly either,” I went on, amazed at my terrible thoughts. “I want to see the evidence on you too!”

“If I don't douche, I'm pretty sure he'll get me pregnant," she said.

"Good! I hope he does knock you up!"

What was I saying? Had I gone mad with lust?

"Can I at least shower? I'm pretty sticky," she asked.

"Yes, just don't douche until after I get the chance to fuck you," I said. “In fact, can you use a tampon to hold it all in?”

“What?” she exclaimed. “You really ARE kinky.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll... I’ll think about it. I’m so tired now!”

“Claire?”

“Mmm?” she replied, her voice dreamy again.

“I love you!” I whispered.

“I love you too, Tim!”

The following night I called very late, still unsure in my mind how I felt about it all.

I had never been as aroused as when I pictured my lovely wife giving herself willingly to another man, and I felt terribly guilty about it. Was it all just an amazing fantasy or was it actually real? And what sort of man was I? At times I couldn’t bear the thought of Claire being fucked by anyone other than me; at other times all I wanted was to watch her have a shattering orgasm at another man’s hands.

When Claire answered, her voice was low and she sounded slightly drunk.

“Hi, Darling.”

“Mmmm! Hi, Tim!”

“Did you… do it again?”

“Mmmm! Yes we did.”

“Tell me all about it. You promised, remember?”

"Well okay, but I’m sooo tired!”

“Claire, you promised!”

She seemed to pull herself together a little before carrying on in a more stable voice.

"Okay! We went for a run, then to a new pub by the river. We had a bite to eat then danced to the band."

"What were you wearing?"

"My short red dress; the one you say shows my knickers!"

"Did it show them?"

"No. They were in my handbag!"

"Did Simon touch you while you danced?"

"Yes, his hands were all over my bottom."

"What happened when you got home?"

“I took him to our room again. We made love for a long time on the bed. The sheets are filthy now!”

“Great! Don’t change them,” I hissed. "What did he do to you?”

“Well, after fucking me on the bed, he took me through to the dining room and fucked me on the table, then again from behind while I was bent over the back of the sofa. I think he didn’t like the dirty sheets."

“Jesus, Claire! What if the kids had woken up and seen you?”

“Oh God! I didn’t think about that! We were so wrapped up in ourselves.”

“I can tell,” I replied, “and I love hearing all about it but if it’s true, you must be careful! Thank God we live in an old house with thick walls!”

“I’ll lock the door next time,” she said.

‘Next time?’ I wondered as I finished myself off messily and we blew each other goodnight kisses.

When I next called, well after midnight on Friday night, it was Simon’s last night in London. Claire’s voice was soft and unsteady as if she was drunk and was hardly capable of telling me what had happened. Eventually after a lot of persuasion she began to tell me the details.

"Oh Tim… he fucked me so much... I just need to sleep now!”

“Where did he fuck you, Claire?”

“On the kitchen countertop, on your chair in the living room…”

“Is that all?”

“No,” she sighed as if struggling to stay awake, “he fucked me over the arm of the sofa too.”

I loved the crude way she spoke about it; so unlike the Claire I had known for so long.

“Wow, Claire. Was it good?”

“Mmmm.”

“Did you cum?”

“Mmmm.”

“Was that all?”

“We had one last fuck in our bed.”

There was our usual pause during which I rubbed my erection faster and faster.

“Tim?”

“Ugh… ugh…what honey?”

“Tim, there are stains everywhere now and the kids must be wondering what’s going on. You know how they think I’m obsessed with cleaning up.”

Oh my God! My erection actually hurt it was so hard.

“Why are you whispering?” I asked.

“Because he’s still here; he’s sleeping in our bed with me as if it’s his last night.”

“What about the kids?”

“He’ll get up really early, before they wake up. Don’t worry; the door’s locked too.”

“Will you fuck him again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I’m so sore.”

“Claire?”

“What?”

“This is real, isn’t it? It isn’t just another fantasy – a really, really good one?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“I think so but…”

“Well you’ll have to keep guessing until you see me tomorrow. I’m going back to bed.”

“With him?”

“Oh God I hope so…”

And she put the phone down.

Alone in my hotel room I finished myself off quickly, my mind full of images of my lovely wife on our bed, her legs spread wide, Simon’s slim, toned buttocks moving up and down between them.

And her cries of orgasm…

I returned home on Saturday evening arriving just before dinner, London time. Claire and the kids picked me up at Heathrow airport, my wife wearing a short, brightly coloured summer dress. She looked fresh, sweet and innocent; a far cry from the sex-crazed girl I had spoken to on the phone during the week.

I began to believe that the whole thing really had just been a fantasy she had dreamed up to enhance our phone sex. If it was, what a fantasy!

I didn’t dare mention it for a long time, not with the kids in the back seat, but half way through the drive home, I reached across and stroked her bare thigh, casually feeling under her skirt as she drove.

“Careful! I’m driving,” she scolded me jokingly, opening her thighs very slightly to allow my fingers better access but not too much. “Better wait till we get home.”

I slid my fingers higher up her soft, smooth inner thighs.

“You’re not…” I began.

“..Not wearing any panties?” She finished my sentence for me in a whisper. “No Tim, I’m not.”

My erection began to hurt as my trousers mercilessly contained it. Now I had to know the truth.

“Simon?” I asked, leaving the word hanging.

“Oh, he’s okay. He’s happy. They’ve offered him a job and he caught the ten o’clock train this morning. He’s probably having dinner with his Mum and Dad right now.”

She drove on a while.

“Did you kiss him good-bye?” I asked, trying to keep my questions beyond the kids’ comprehension.

“Oh yes. With the front door open. In my bath robe.”

“Did anyone see you?”

She seemed to think for a minute. “It was early. I don't think so. But I suppose they might have!"

Oh God!

“Have you…” I wasn’t sure how to phrase this question but Claire appeared to understand me.

"Douched? Not since yesterday morning," she said.

Jesus!

“And I haven’t showered today either.”

Mary and Joseph!

“And are you using...?” I whispered hesitantly.

“A tampon?” She mouthed the word so the kids wouldn’t hear. “You’ll have to wait and find out!”

“Oh my God!”

We drove on in silence, my head spinning.

When we arrived home and stepped inside the front door, all my questions were answered immediately. The house absolutely reeked of sex!

It was faint but unmistakable in the hallway, but grew stronger and stronger as we went further into the building. God! I thought to myself. Just how many times had they done it?

My beautiful, innocent wife had actually done it! She had actually been unfaithful in our own house! And I had urged her to do it!

The kids went back to watching TV which kept them occupied while Claire took my hand and led me silently through the house pointing out the places they had made love. There was little to see and, were it not for the smell in my nostrils, I could have still believed the whole thing was just an amazing fantasy.

There was a very suspicious stain on the sofa which she took great trouble to point out to me, but even that wasn’t conclusive proof of infidelity. Still I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

The uneasy feeling persisted throughout dinner; the kids noisily eating only feet away from what might be clear evidence that their mother had been wildly fucked by her lover over and over again. It was hard to concentrate on anything else.

“What are you staring at, Daddy?” my daughter asked sweetly, snapping my attention back to the meal, at least temporarily. I mumbled something ridiculous and tried hard to chat about inconsequential family things while Claire looked across the table at me with a sweet quizzical look on her face.

Family things...

After what seemed an age, we finally put the kids to bed. As I wished them sweet dreams and closed the door behind me, I realised that the moment of truth had finally arrived. Claire calmly took my hand and led me silently across the landing to our bedroom. She unlocked the door and opened it.

The pungent smell of stale sex smell hit me full in the face.

I looked across at Claire who stared straight back, unashamed. Bewildered, I stepped into the room and heard her close the door behind us, turning the key in the lock with a distinct click. I looked around the once familiar room, my nose wrinkling at the powerful aroma.

The floor was strewn with Claire’s discarded clothes, a short red dress, a pair of stockings, two pairs of high heeled shoes. A pair of silk thong panties was draped over the bedside table.

I looked at the bed – our bed. The bedspread was on the floor across its end. The under sheet was stained and rumpled; the top sheets also stained and tangled every which way. I crossed to the mattress and ran my fingers over one of the sheets, feeling the crispy dried stains in my hand.

This was no fantasy!

I will never forget the feeling in my belly as I realised that it was far too late for second thoughts; my sweet, innocent wife had actually lived out our fantasy. My wife and the mother of my children had already been fucked by another man; for real, in our bed!

She had been a slut; unfaithful, adulterous, had cheated on me and there was nothing either of us could do to change that.

A potent mixture of jealousy, love, revulsion and arousal washed over me and made my constrained erection even more painful. A huge wave of emotion washed up and over me, all I could think of was that this woman was my wife – MY wife - and that I had to assert this claim above all other things.

Barely in control, I turned to Claire whose face was a picture of uncertainty and anxiety but I no longer cared. Grabbing her by the upper arms I pulled her body hard against mine and began to kiss her passionately on the mouth. After the initial shock, she responded in kind and we kissed, mouths wide open, tongues entwined until our lips were numb, my erection pressed hard against her belly.

And all the time, my hands were wildly groping her firm, fit body from the nape of her neck to her wonderful, tight buttocks. My heart pounded in my chest as I quickly and clumsily burst the buttons on her dress and dragged it off her shoulders and onto the floor.

She was naked underneath. No panties. No bra. Her body showing clear signs of recent use – and not by me!

I pushed her roughly back onto the rumpled, stinking bed and forced her legs apart with my knees, placing my body between them so she couldn’t close her thighs. The smell of stale sex emanating from her vulva was overpowering. I put a firm hand on each knee and firmly pressed her legs even wider apart.

She winced audibly.

Kneeling between her open thighs, I stared at my sweet innocent wife’s vulva. Tears began to run from my eyes as the evidence of her infidelity hit me like a sledgehammer.

There were two – no three - knots of dried semen in her soft, sparse pubic hair, close to her slit. Her labia were very swollen and pink – I felt another huge wave of jealousy pass through me as I thought of another man’s cock plunging over and over into the warm, wet sticky passage that had hitherto known only mine.

I stared at her puffy lips in amazement; a white cord hung down the dark gash below.

Oh my God! I gasped, my eyes fixed on the tampon string.

“You did it!” I said, amazed. Claire nodded sheepishly.

“I thought it was what you wanted.”

The perverted smile on my face must have strangely reassured her because her legs loosened a little around my waist. As she lay back on the bed, I half-stood and frantically unfastened my belt, lowering my trousers and pants to my ankles and releasing my throbbing erection. I knelt again between her open thighs and slowly, carefully, tugged the cord. Claire’s face screwed up in pain as I pulled.

“Sore?” I asked in a whisper. She nodded.

I pulled much more gently, teasing the white wad from her tight passage until, with a strange ‘popping’ sound it fell from her lips onto the dirty sheet.

I suppose I must have expected a gushing flow of semen from her red, sore hole because I felt oddly disappointed when none came. What did come was the most overpowering smell of sex I have ever encountered in my life. I instinctively pulled my head back making Claire start, but quickly lowered it again to show I was far from revolted.

“It’s all… still there… inside you…?” I hissed in amazement. Claire nodded.

“From last night and this morning.”

“Oh my fucking God!”

I rose up over her, my cock now hard as iron, pushing apart her labia with its tip. My head was buzzing with confused thoughts but the message it was sending to my body was clear:

‘Fuck her! Fuck her! Make her yours again! Fuck her hard!’

Claire winced with the soreness but I ignored her pain and thrust myself hard and deep into her sore, swollen, well used vagina. She was so wet and loose that her body offered no resistance and I sank full length into her until she gasped aloud as my pubic hair ground against her red, puffy lips.

Their combined juices might not have leaked out when I removed the tampon, but they were certainly still inside her. To my surprise and delight, my hard, deep thrust was accompanied by a loud rasping noise as air and semen were forced out of her vagina by my rapidly incoming cock. Suddenly my lower belly and pubic hair were spattered with fine drops of Simon’s semen as I paused, buried balls deep in my wife’s beautiful body.

"That's his sperm you feel inside me,” Claire growled in my ear, her voice hoarse and almost sluttish. “That's Simon’s sperm making me pregnant!"

"I know!" I said as I pulled back and then buried myself deep inside her again, hammering my body into hers. There was another loud wet rasping sound as my hips slapped against her inner thighs. It felt incredible – more lubrication than I had ever imagined possible and the overwhelming aroma of sex all around me.

“When did he last fuck you?” I demanded.

“Five thirty this morning.”

“Fuck!”

I began to thrust; harder and harder I slammed into her body, churning her juices and Simon’s remaining sperm into a creamy froth at the base of my cock. Her pussy was looser than I remembered – surely a result of the multiple penetrations it had enjoyed during the week – but I was so aroused it took only minutes before I came with a loud, angry grunt that made her put her hand over my mouth to stifle the noise as I added my own semen to the potent mix within her wonderful, well-used body.

Panting for air, I refused to take my cock from her afterwards; my arousal was so intense and complete that my cock remained miraculously hard despite my ejaculation. Instead, I stared deep into her big beautiful eyes and her sweet face, trying to reconcile the angelic features beneath me with the stench of sex assaulting my nostrils.

“That was amazing! I’ve never cum so hard in my life!” I eventually gasped.

I knew Claire hadn’t climaxed and deep down worried that her young lover’s skills in bed might have spoiled her for me now, but I didn’t dare say a word.

“Was it… what you wanted?” Claire asked me, her voice quiet and uncertain.

In reply, I silently began to slide in and out of her body again, penetrating easily the hot, soggy mess that was her loose vagina, thrusting into her smoothly and deeply. Having already cum once, I lasted a lot longer the second time, building up my thrusting carefully so as not to hurt her sore vulva. It felt as if her whole body was opening up for me, her legs splayed outrageously wide; her arms around my waist or on my buttocks.

And my thrusting grew more forceful again.

My mouth found hers as I pummeled her body, then found her neck and bit into her skin, sucking it hard into my mouth as if trying to mark her indelibly as mine. I felt her body dilate, all resistance now gone and I thrust harder still until finally I was fucking her as violently as I could, my body slamming into hers over and over. Sweat fell from my forehead onto her face and chest as she writhed and moaned under me until finally she did reach a choking, almost silent, wide-eyed climax along with my own painful second cumming and we both collapsed exhausted on the crispy, stained sheets before falling asleep, naked and sweaty.

In the morning – Sunday - we were woken by the sound of cartoons on the TV in the lounge. Claire slid close up to me in our disorganised, semen-encrusted bed.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

I nodded.

“No regrets, I hope? It’s too late to change your mind now!” she told me quietly.

I kissed her lips softly, imagining that lovely sweet mouth wrapped around Simon’s shaft only twenty-four hours before. Our embrace broke and we lay side by side, me staring blankly at the ceiling, Claire stroked my chest with her fingertips, a massive dark love bite on the side of her neck.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel,” she said softly. “I mean you were encouraging me – urging me to do it – telling me it wasn’t adultery if you wanted it too - but I couldn’t be completely sure you meant it!”

“I wasn’t entirely sure myself,” I replied thoughtfully. “I mean, it was the most erotic fantasy I had ever even thought of… I’m not sure when it all became real.”

“Can’t you work it out?” Claire asked with a cheeky grin on her face. I thought for a full minute, my fingers stroking her smooth back and sticky thighs. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Well, you’re a very clever, very careful person. You were – probably - testing me out, weren’t you?” I asked.

“Go on,” she teased.

“I mean when you told me all the things you had done with Simon, you hadn’t actually done them yet. You were telling me what you were planning or hoping to do to see how I reacted, right?”

“Maybe.”

“So when you said you’d accidentally kissed, you actually set up the accident on purpose afterwards! And when you said he’d fucked you, it was because you were going to seduce him later!”

She grinned. “I needed to know if you really meant it. How you’d really react if you thought I had already been unfaithful to you – whether you would change from urging me on to hating me!”

I stared at the ceiling for a moment, my hand on my wife’s flat tummy.

“But you ARE all right about what happened in the end? You don’t hate me now?” she asked, sounding a little unsure.

“I could never hate you,” I insisted, “and as you say, I urged you to do it. I doubt you’d have gone all the way if I hadn’t encouraged you so much.”

“And I did go all the way,” she said, “further than even I expected!”

She looked rueful for a minute, her hand covering mine on her belly.

“What if I’m pregnant?” she asked in a soft, low voice. “Do you think you could cope with it? You know how I feel about abortion!”

Indeed I did know. As a good Catholic, it was one of things she felt most passionate about. I thought silently about it for almost a whole minute, my head spinning, before replying.

“I think I can handle it. We wanted more kids anyway and it’s not as if I didn’t know.”

It was Claire’s turn to stop and think before stating:

“Our families will wonder what happened. They know you had a vasectomy.”

“So do a lot of people,” I replied. “There will be quite a few eyebrows raised if he has knocked you up. We’ll just have to lie. Say it failed. Say… I don’t know what but we’ll think of something.”

There was another long pause, the silence broken only by the muffled sound of cartoons on the TV before I finally plucked up the courage to ask the question to which I really feared knowing the answer.

“Claire?” I asked cautiously.

“I wondered how long it would take you to ask,” she replied as if reading my mind. “You really want to know?”

I nodded as I braced myself for the truth.

“Well, Simon is young and fit and strong and has an amazing body. For a youngster he’s surprisingly good in bed. He made me... oh, realise what I might have missed out on by staying a virgin so long, but…”

“But?”

“But love and experience are everything. I let him fuck me because I love you, as well as just for my own pleasure. That must make you understand how I feel about you.”

I lay back and smiled. It was better than I had feared.

“Last night afterwards you were so… so… animal it was almost scary,” she continued. “It made me feel good that it brought you so much passion and pleasure. And besides, I make love with you and that’s quite different from just fucking.”

It was enough reassurance for me. It was more than I deserved.

We lay together until we heard the sounds of the kids in the kitchen, squabbling. My mind picturing the millions of Simon’s tiny sperm still wriggling and swimming within my wife’s lovely body, seeking the egg that just might be waiting.

Eventually we rose and donned our bathrobes before going into the kitchen to make tea. It seemed strange to be acting so normally but after a while, the practicalities of being a family began to take over.

After breakfast with the kids – in front of the TV as a special treat - we showered and dressed then went systematically through the house, cleaning up any evidence of infidelity we could find, starting by stripping the bed and opening all the windows to let the smell of stale sex escape. While the kids enjoyed an unexpected extra hour of morning TV, we cleaned up the stains around the house with warm water and detergents.

Despite our best efforts, the marks on the sofa will remain a permanent reminder of Claire’s infidelity – at least until we have it re-covered. I wondered whether the stains would out-last the memories.


Three Months later

It's been three months since Simon’s visit, and Claire and I have had sex almost every day since – at least when I’ve been home. We have grown even closer emotionally and our sex life is soaring away.

Simon hasn’t visited us again yet, but I have an idea that he and Claire will share a bed again one day soon – with my blessing - especially after the baby is born.

Oh yes, true to form, Claire did miss her period. A home pregnancy test and then her doctor confirmed that she is indeed pregnant. It can only be her lover Simon’s child growing inside her and there’s no way she would even contemplate having a termination so we’re going to have a fourth child in the house in a few months’ time.

We decided not to tell Simon about him being the father of Claire’s child. Apart from the serious problems the revelation would cause with all our relatives, at this time in his life the boy needs the responsibility of a baby like he needs a hole in the head.

And the last thing I need is a lot of well-meaning, sympathetic relatives telling me what a slut my wife was and how they knew it all along.

So the new baby will officially be mine. We’ll lie and tell everyone that he or she was born prematurely. I’m happy with that, on the whole. We can afford it and I love kids – really, I do. Claire is happy too and thinks she might want to get pregnant yet again afterwards.

Maybe she will. You never know what might happen. I never expected to be a cuckold, still less to have been a willing participant on my own betrayal and I’m certain Claire never expected to be an adulteress.

So we will soon be a family of six but why stop there? My mother was one of nine children and if my vasectomy reversal doesn’t work, we know where to go for help.