For a couple of years now, I have been urging my wife Jane to find a lover. Some nice local guy who can come if called and fuck her properly. I have age-related ED that is worsening.

Of course, I confess that the idea of watching them have sex is a big turn-on for me. It gets me very aroused and nearly hard. I imagine that I could slip my engorged, semi-erect cock into her sloppy pussy after they fuck.

I might even enjoy clean-up chores. However, I get no response from her; she is cold to the idea of becoming a hot wife. I have even offered to find and vet a man for the job. No soap.

Sex for her has never been a strong drive; she always cooperated and acquiesced to my sexual demands, but never expressed any of her own. She insists that what we have is fine for her.

We suffered through a couple of years of cancer treatment with no sex at all, then for another couple of hormone suppression, meaning little or no interest. She opted for a lumpectomy, keeping her lovely breasts, which have always been a delight for me.

Unfortunately, by the time her hormone balance made her capable of enjoying sex, I was incapable of it. Now her pussy is always wet and ready for me to lick it to orgasms.

She has become heavily involved in a cancer survivors group, ultimately becoming close friends with a young woman who has had a radical mastectomy.

They spend a lot of time together, shopping and sharing meals and coffees. As women will do, they also share personal details.

Susan, the friend, told Jane that she feared that her husband would abandon her because of her condition and her ongoing treatments, which cause her to be sick frequently and unattractive.

They are a young couple with one school-age child. They had a very active and strong sex life prior to her illness. Jane confessed to her about my ED and that I am always urging her to take a lover.

Susan immediately picked up on that and begged her to become a surrogate for her with her husband, Bob. Jane promised to think about it.

When she mentioned it to me, I said nothing but thought, For me no, but for a fellow female cancer sufferer in distress, you bet.

At dinner, a few weeks later, Jane informed me that she and Susan had plans for the evening. She was dressed in her around-the-house clothes, which was unusual; she never went out at night dressed that way.

I had just turned the TV off and was getting ready for bed when she got home. She snuck up behind me as I washed my face, wrapped her arms around me, and kissed my neck.

Her hands slid down my naked torso and caressed my cock which immediately started to inflate. I turned, and when her tongue entered my mouth, I knew right away she had been having sex. She had noticeable cock breath.

She didn’t see the astonished look on my face after the kiss because she was pulling her T-shirt over her head. Then she took my hand and, saying nothing, strode toward the bedroom, her tits swaying enticingly as she walked and her free hand unbuttoning her shorts.

When we reached the bedside, she wiggled her hips, and her shorts fell to the floor. She turned her bare ass around and flopped back onto the bed. Spreading her legs apart and grinning at me, she pointed to her pussy.

I needed no further instructions; I fell to my knees and buried my face in her very wet snatch. It smelled and tasted fantastic, and looked ruined.

My mind was speeding a mile a minute, but I was not going to stop eating her cum-filled pussy for anything; explanations could wait.

It took me several minutes to realize that my cock was actually hard. Jane pulled me up to kiss me again and guided my urgent erection into her. She wrapped her legs around my hips, which I love. Of course, after so many years, I couldn’t hold off for long before I had a glorious orgasm.

We wriggled to the center of the bed and hugged each other. I waited, saying nothing. After a bit, she asked, “You want to hear about it?” I nodded eagerly.

“Was it Bob?” I asked. She nodded.

“You were right, being fucked by a nice hard cock operated by a skilled lover is really special. I loved it, and so did he.” She smiled to herself, remembering what they had done.

“He fucked you good then? Did you cum?”

She smiled again.

“Oh yes,” holding up three fingers. “And he is big, much bigger than even you used to be.”

That hurt a bit, but I willingly let it slide; her memory is probably less than perfect.

She kept kissing me and saying, “I love you.” Then finally she sat up, looked me straight in the eye and said, “I want to fuck him again, maybe several times.”

She watched for my reaction. I just smiled.

“And I want to do it here with you joining us. I plan for us to share his cock. I thought about nothing else on the way home. I am not making a cuckold of you; you are sharing me.” An obiter dictum.

She went on to give me the details of their romp in a local hotel room. Thus began nearly two years of her affair with her friend’s husband, and a happy home life for us.

His wife, Susan, has even joined them a couple of times, but usually she stays at home with their child. I think she is uncomfortable about her scars, but I think they are still very much in love.

And Jane feels as if she has done her friend a favor; the great humanitarian.