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Elaine, Jackson and I Ch. 03

Babes

Chapter 3 – Acceptance

The drive from that remote beach took an hour just to get to the local main road. Its single lane track through sand dunes and then across a marsh required a degree of concentration that I welcomed as I did not need to engage in conversation with Elaine or think about what I had witnessed under the old watch tower. As we had driven off we had passed the little shop that had been slow to serve me and I couldn’t help but ponder on how happy and self confident I had been in those minutes before my whole world had collapsed around me when I had seen my Wife with another man and I had been made a cuckold.

Finally we reached the end of that track and pulled out onto the main road. Making our way out of Sussex and into Kent, Elaine started to chat as if nothing had happened; as usual she made disparaging remarks about my driving in an amusing way and I let her get on with it, only responding with the occasional grunt or ‘Yes Dear’, ‘No Dear’ and ‘Of course Dear’ – of course. My mind couldn’t get away from the sight of her with Jackson and the other things that I had observed on that beach during that beautiful warm afternoon.

I couldn’t help it, but I unable to contain myself any longer so I blurted it out just as Elaine was discoursing on the merits of the sun tan oil she had used that day. “Do you know that I saw a couple having sex this afternoon. A married woman and another man. Right there in front of her husband!”

Her voice quivered as she responded, “Wha….” But I cut her off, “On the bloody sand if you please.”

Although I continued to drive I could see her face had gone white and her eyes looked like saucers as she turned slowly to face me. She bit her lip and with a tremor in her voice she asked me to elaborate. “What do you mean? Who was it?” and after a long pause and in a very quiet voice. “Where was it?”

I was beginning to enjoy this and after what Elaine had put me through that afternoon I was determined to make her squirm. “A big black bloke was f**king a pretty white girl while her husband — I assume it was her husband — just sat there like a Wuss and did nothing. You’d have thought the most he would do, would be to throw a blanket over them. Or even a bucket of cold sea water, not that the water would have stopped them because he had been doing her while they were in the sea.”

“James, please mind your language. This isn’t like you,” she exclaimed while at the same time slapping me gently on my bare thigh, “how come I didn’t see any of this?”

“I guess it’s because you were under the tower with Jackson.” I replied, pausing to manoeuvre into the fast lane of the M20 Motorway.

You could have cut the atmosphere in that car with a knife as I continued. “He was fixing your top wasn’t he? Or trying to anyway.” These were not the words I wanted to say but dear reader, what I was dying to scream at her was exactly what I was thinking. ‘It’s because he was f**king you all afternoon with his big cock under that watchtower, that’s why.”

“Ah yes Jackson,” she answered, “he was so gentlemanly. He could have left me to it and then Bomonti travesti I would have had to walk back to our towels without a top.”

“Yes that would have been a little embarrassing.” I answered sardonically while at the same time wanting to scream at her, ‘You didn’t mind letting the whole beach see your tits when you took his top off did you — you Slut!’ Nevertheless I settled for, “But there were a few girls there with their tops off anyway, so you’d have been in good company.”

“I guess so.” Her face was a mask that I couldn’t read and I was watching the road anyway but what she said next nearly caused me to swerve across into the fast lane, “But I suspect that you would have liked that. Wouldn’t you James?”

I coughed, I spluttered and all I could say was, “Christ! I dunno!” But Elaine was right, I would have liked it; I would have pretended not to, but it would have turned me on in exactly the same way as I have been aroused so many times when I have seen other men trying to chat her up. ‘Is this why I haven’t caused a scene? Is this what I really want? Do I actually desire to be cuckolded and to tolerate her having a Black Lover. No! That’s wrong; not a Black Lover — she’d called him ‘Master’ — she wants, or already has, a ‘Black Master’. Oh My God! He has taken her over — she belongs to him — Elaine is Jackson’s Mistress — his Whore!’

These were the thoughts that ran through my brain as I drove us home up the M20 and A20 and then until we parked on the road at our nice town house in Blackheath, South London.

Throwing our bags down in the hallway we staggered up the stairs to our bedroom and threw all of our clothes into the linen basket. Elaine spoke first. “I’ll run the shower. Are you going to follow me James? I need you to help me wash my hair. It’s full of sand for some reason.”

‘Well that’s because we were on a beach, Dummy, and because you lay on your back on the sand while a big black man fucked the sense out of you” Were such thoughts to be my future now or would this situation resolve itself? I had never had such notions about Elaine before, but then again I had always trusted her before.

“It was quite windy on the beach Elaine, and I guess I could do with a shower too. Besides, we both need to get the sun cream off.” I lied — I hadn’t used any because I had kept my T Shirt on. “Shower, supper then bed I think,” but her only reply was a giggle. ‘Is she now starting to take the piss?’

Elaine and I have a well established ‘shower’ routine; it involves me washing her from her feet up to her neck with a lovely big natural (bloody expensive) sponge using lots of her (bloody expensive again) shower gel and cream. To say that I adore these moments between us is such an understatement because it is my opportunity to show her just how much I worship her. Starting at her little feet and working my way up her legs using warm water and slippery soap I am meticulous about getting her feet clean between her toes and then ensuring that her legs are massaged as they are washed. I know that she likes this because she has often said Bomonti travestiileri how much better she feels afterwards.

After her legs have been lovingly washed, I move on to her back, stomach and breasts using gentle rubbing motions that I know she always reacts to, and it is always a pleasure to see those beautiful nipples of hers expand with each gentle caress. But I don’t take advantage; I play the role of the obedient servant and my attentiveness to her body pleases her even more.

Then I move on to her lovely round arse and her dark luxurious bush; and at this I am unsurpassed. Kneeling before her I wash her bush with copious amounts of gel and water while taking care to accidentally zip the back of my hand across her already protruding clitoris; this always elicits a little moan of pleasure from her lips. Turning her around I started on her lovely cheeks with the same amount of care and devotion as I spent on her bush. Call us both perverts if you will, but my pretty Wife has always allowed me to wash all of her most intimate parts and on that night, of all nights, she leant forward with the shower head in her hand so as to wash her hair, thus presenting me with my idea of heaven.

With her legs slightly apart for balance, her bent-over body presented me with her lovely pink pussy and sphincter in an invitation that was as lascivious as any backstreet whore would know how to present. I didn’t care that Jackson had ejaculated into her just hours ago; I washed that little sphincter, her arse cheeks and those normally pretty pink lips, which were now a vivid red, with the care and gentle manipulation that I usually apply to the woman I love. Reaching around I took the shower head from her as she was finished with her hair, and played the warm water all over her arse and vulva, noting as I did so that tiny particles of sand had collected around the sink hole. “Are you little sore Dear? I just washed out a lot of sand from down there,” I remarked innocently. Her reply was a mumbled, “Yes I am a little. It’s the sand I think.” ‘Lies, lies, all lies!” I wanted to scream but I still kept my silence.

With her hair washed and our pleasant little episode of decadence concluded, she spoke as she stepped naked from the shower. “A very light supper tonight and then to bed don’t you think James?” My little ‘cotton reel’ of a penis thought it a very good idea indeed.

Supper was a little cheese and biscuits and a nice little fruity Rioja (my favourite) and then it was time for bed. As we climbed the stairs yet again all I could think of was my Wife’s body, while before my eyes her round little arse cheeks rotated delightfully above me as we went up to bed.

In bed, she was my warm and sexy Elaine as I gently kissed the same lips that I had seen wrapped around Jackson’s cock, and then sucked on the same nipple that Jackson had kissed just a few hours before. ‘What’s the matter with you? You shouldn’t be enjoying her body like this. You should be repulsed by the fact that he had enjoyed her like this today; or any other day for that matter. Where’s your pride travesti Bomonti cuckold?’ But I knew the answer to that question — because this was Part One of my secret plan — I had to convince myself that I could accept the situation.

For all the emotions that I felt I knew somehow that I was being given a privilege by her; and when her soft, cool hand reached for my little penis and guided me to her opening there was just no pride left in me when I slid into her. Into the same warm wet tunnel that Jackson’s cock had penetrated that afternoon on the beach and, although as humiliated and belittled that I felt, it was a wonderful sensation — just like always before. Such was my love for Elaine.

After the day I had experienced it was not long before my own seed squirted in small spurts; leaving me drained emotionally and physically; but there was more duties to be performed by me before sleep could overtake me. I did not hear her words immediately as my ears were covered by my Wife’s beautiful breasts, “Come on James. Finish me off. Don’t leave me hanging like this.”

“What? I just came. It will be all sticky down there.”

Her response was to gently, but powerfully push me down her body until my lips were in contact with her clitoris as my nose buried itself into her lovely dark bush. “Go on James,” her voice was almost inaudible as her thighs now covered my ears, “do that lovely thing that you do. Finish me off Sweety! Besides, I’m still a little sore down there and your gentle tongue is just what I need.”

I started on her Clitoris and immediately felt her start to shiver with pleasure but I could sense that this was not quite what she wanted. Her hand pushed me down further until her sticky labia came into contact with my lips; instinctively my tongue flicked out and for the first time in my life I tasted my own semen. ‘If this is what my lady wants, this is what she will have’ I thought, and even if this was my very first time at tasting semen, I did not recoil, ‘Why should I? It’s my very own essence and if this was what my lady wants, this what my lady shall have!”

Elaine’s arched her back in pleasure at my work on her beautiful pussy, and at each lick of my tongue collected just a little of the jism that I had shot into her vagina. And that is how it was for the rest of our little session until Elaine climaxed, kissed me, thanked me and then dropped off into a deep sleep.

As I lay there that night I couldn’t sleep even though I was as tired as a dog. Thoughts, pictures and words that had been said played through my mind, and then suddenly it dawned on me (why not, it was nearly dawn anyway); Elaine had never asked me to go down on her after I had spurted. Was she preparing me for something? ‘Of course she is you silly shit! She’s got a plan too, and it involves you — heavily.’ Amazingly the very thought calmed me because Elaine is not just a kind hearted girl, but she’s clever too.

The following day was a Monday and I was back to work. Elaine kissed me as she went out of the door to her job in the City of London and I caught a bus that took me into Canary Warf — it was as back to normal as it could be but I couldn’t forget what had happened and I knew that my actions, or lack of action more like, the day before meant that I had already accepted my cuckoldry. It was now time for the rest of my plan to be put into action.

I had to see Alan.

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