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Chapter 1

Martin Johnson was a shattered man, his idyllic married life in tatters with the sudden death of his beautiful blonde wife in a car accident. Night after night, he sat in his empty apartment, with no sounds of life other than his own breathing. He had taken up heavy drinking that was so out of character for the previously one glass of wine a night man.

As he sat, night after night, in the semi darkness for hours on end, he wrestled, not only with the loss of his wife -- the love of his life -- but the way she died. As a passenger in the car of her boss, just after leaving an outer town motel at 1am in the morning. The motel manager had told investigating police that the couple had arrived around 4pm, checked into one room and didn't even order dinner. Martin's mind was filled with the thought of the pair in that room for nine hours.

Martin had no idea that she had been having an affair. Perhaps one could call him naïve, given what he now knew, but he just believed that she was working industriously on a new project at work. She had been getting home late at night about three times a week. But he had no suspicions because there had been no lessening of activity with her in their own marriage bed … or in the kitchen, the lounge, the bathroom, wherever. There had been no doubting her sexuality, his late wife Amanda had always verged on nymphomania.

Every night now, the same questions went round and around in his head. The two of them had been so sexually active in the four years that he had known her, and their activities had only increased after they were married two years ago. Why would she want to have an affair with her boss? If she was unfaithful to him with one man, had there been others? If so, who were they? Would it really help him to know?

He was becoming fixated on having to know. But why, what good would it do him now? She was gone forever, the woman he loved and adored, his soul mate. But instead of having fond memories of all the good times, of her statuesque beauty that turned male heads wherever they went, her cheeky and irreverent sense of humour, her unashamed sexuality, their marathon sessions of lovemaking. Yes, lovemaking with her, not just sex. They would spend hours -- it was most nights, he reflected -- on intense and romantic foreplay. So much so, that they usually didn't get to sleep until well after midnight.

It would be nice if he could dwell on the good memories, as he sat alone in the apartment every night, his hand wrapped around his cock as he attempted to stroke his way to satisfaction. He was only 30, in the prime of his sexual capacity, having just had four years straight of constant mind-blowing sex, probably averaging six nights a week. Now, in the four weeks since her death, there had been no hot liquid velvet glove of his loved one's cunt to slide his cock into, or of any other woman for that matter. There had only been the palm of his hand, softened and lubed with dabs of KY Jelly, as he attempted to maintain the satisfaction levels to which his body had become accustomed.

To accompany his intense sorrow, Martin wasn't eating properly and he felt that his work was suffering. His boss had been very patient with him, telling him to take time off to complete the grieving for his wife, but Martin felt that he had to remain active, at least by day. If he spent all day and night in this apartment, just thinking about her, he would go crazy.

Unfortunately, he didn't have many friends, such had been the relationship with his wife. They just didn't have time for too many others in their life. The only couple they had become really close to was John Cooper, much older than Martin at 45 years. But John's lovely wife, Deborah was 28, just a year younger than Amanda. Deb and Mandy had been best friends since school days, so that's how Martin had met John four years ago.

Despite the 15 year age difference, Martin and John got on really well. They had a regular booking to play golf together every Saturday morning, and would often take in a football game too. The four would get together for dinner on either Friday or Saturday night most weekends. Now, Martin felt like a loose cog and had refused invitations from John and Deb to maintain the dinner engagements, although the two men were still golfing once a week.

John had noticed the sharp decline in his friend and discussed it with Deb regularly over the weeks since Amanda's death. This Wednesday night was no exception as John and Deborah shared a wine and a quiet chat before dinner. "He needs a woman badly," John again told Deborah. "He and Amanda had just been so intense in their sex life."

"More than us?" Deborah would query as she playfully grabbed John's cock through his trousers to emphasise her point.

"Yes, amazing as it may seem, more than us, my darling." John couldn't get over how fortunate he had been. When he had divorced his first wife five years ago, there had been no particular woman in his life. He had just wanted to be rid of a woman that he had married far too young and who had nagged him constantly over the years.

John stayed celibate for all of three months, but the day that he met the vivacious and attractive brunette, Deborah, he determined that he must have her. Within a week of meeting Deborah, she was in his bed and they had been devoted to each other in the four years since.

They coupled up well together, each managing to cater for the other's sexual needs and while not as frequent in their sexual endeavours as Martin and Amanda had been, they managed to get it on frequently. How did they know that? Because Amanda had regularly talked about sex at the foursomes' weekly get togethers. Amanda would regale John and Deb with tales of how insatiable she and Martin could be.

"What are we having for dinner tonight?" John asked Deborah.

"A roast, John … we're having lamb and baked veges."

"Would there be enough for another serve left over, Deb?"

"Should be, honey, I cut up heaps of potatoes and pumpkin. Why? Who are you thinking of inviting?"

"Nobody!" Then to Deborah's utter bewilderment, John suggested, "How about you make up a serve and drive it over to Martin as soon as we finish eating. I'll do the dishes here, so you don't have to come back to a mess."

"Why would you suggest that, John?"

"You haven't seen him lately, have you?" John enquired of Deborah.

"No, not since the funeral."

"Deb, that was three weeks ago, he has lost weight and he's beginning to look dishevelled. You will be stunned when you see him."

"But why do you want me to take dinner over?"

"Because I don't think he's eating right. Last Saturday at golf, he just looked terrible. He said he's just cooking himself basic things, like omelettes and fish cakes. Crap food, Deb! He's got to get some real nourishment."

"Why don't you take it over, John?"

"He still sees me every Saturday for golf. But as you said, you haven't seen him since the funeral. I think you could cheer him up, he really does like you, and you're always so good at counselling friends and family. You could probably straighten him out."

"Well, I don't know … but I guess so!" Deborah told John just a bit reluctantly.

"Be really nice to him, Deb, show some affection."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, Deb, nothing at all. I just mean that just because I'm not there, don't hold back. Hold his hand, give him a kiss and a cuddle, just like the four of us did when Amanda was alive."

Deborah looked back at John a little suspiciously. She wasn't sure why he was proposing this sudden midweek trip for her to see Martin on her own.

They ate dinner without further reference to Deborah's impending visit to Martin. As soon as she had finished, she picked up the plate she had prepared, covered with foil to keep it warm, kissed John on the cheek, picked up her car keys and was out the door.

It was only a 15-minute drive over to Martin's house. On the way, Deborah's mind tried to speculate on why John had suggested this food drive and why she was the one to make it. She tried also to decipher the code of her husband's suggestion to (how did he put it again, she thought) 'Hold his hand, give him a kiss and a cuddle'. How bizarre, she thought.

Deborah pulled her car up outside Martin's apartment block and climbed the stairs to the first floor. She tapped on the door and waited. There was no reply after 20 seconds, so she tapped again. Eventually, she heard movement from inside and the door opened. Martin's face appeared around the half open door. John had been very accurate, Deborah barely recognised the usually well-groomed and good looking man.

Martin looked like he hadn't shaved in days and his hair was unkempt and shaggy, seemed like it could do with a dose of shampoo. "Deborah, what on earth are you doing here?"

"Hoping that you're going to invite me in," she told him, holding the foil covered plate up. "I brought your dinner."

"What … what dinner … what for?"

"John thought that you weren't eating right after he saw you last weekend. It's obviously been bugging him, so he suggested I bring over a spare serve of the roast we had tonight. Can I come in?"

"Deb, I'm so sorry, where are my manners." With that, Martin flung the door wide open and Deborah stepped into the apartment. There was no entry foyer, the front door opened straight into the lounge room where a sofa faced the television and two individual chairs either side of the TV faced the sofa. "Please, sit yourself down, can I get you a drink?"

Having just come in from the dark night, Deborah's eyes adjusted to the interior lights and as she looked around, she saw that Martin was wearing just a tee shirt and shorts, his legs and feet were bare. Deborah made her way to the sofa and sat down at the far end of it, placing the meal on the coffee table in front of the sofa, indicating to Martin that he should sit next to her to eat.

"I'll have a vodka on the rocks, thanks Martin," Deborah told him, looking up to see him turn in profile to go to get her drink. She gasped, but stifled a sound when she saw that his shorts were tented out in front by what looked to be a very impressive erection. Immediately, she recalled that several times her old school friend Amanda had told her how lucky she was in finding Martin because "his equipment is king size". Deborah reflected that that had been Amanda's quaint description of how her man pleased her.

She had forgotten all about Martin's alleged size advantage until spotting it just now. Deborah was surprised that he hadn't attempted to hide it from her. Its not like it was just a bulge. Seeing him from side on, it was extended straight out horizontally from his body. 'By quite a long way', she considered.

Martin reappeared with her drink. Once again, she was confronted by his tented shorts, but this time front on and from only a step away, as he placed her drink in front of her. 'It can't be me that's caused his erection,' Deborah thought. 'He didn't even know I was coming over. I hope I haven't interrupted him with some woman in the bedroom and he's too polite to say anything.'

Martin sat down next to her, perhaps a body space to her right and peeled the foil off the meal she had brought. "Wow, looks good. I haven't eaten anything like this in a while."

"Go for it, Martin," she told him as he began eating. Then, wanting to find an answer for his obvious erection, she added, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Martin, I should have called beforehand."

"No Deb, that's fine, it's so good to see you. Of course, I still see John every Saturday, but I haven't caught up with you since the funeral."

"Well, we have invited you over … to continue the weekend dinners, I mean."

"Yes, I know. It's just that I've felt like a loose cog since Mandy died. Not very social, I mean."

"So what do you do with yourself here? Must be a bit lonely?"

"You can say that again. I just drink and drink and have a wank."

She was stunned by his frank disclosure and felt just a little uneasy.

"Needless to say, I didn't get finished tonight. You've probably noticed it by now," he said, looking down between his legs as he sat on the sofa alongside her.

Deborah was just a bit taken aback. While the four of them had frequently discussed all types of sexual activity over the years, she had never had any intimate sexual discussions with Martin without Amanda and John being involved. Deborah felt herself blushing and Martin detected it.

"Sorry Deb, but I thought you couldn't miss noticing it, so figured I should explain. That's all I've got these days. Mandy and I were on such a steady diet of sex; I guess I was coming about ten times a week. Well, for a guy, you can't just go cold turkey. I've been trying to cut back, but I'm still giving it a tug every night."

Deborah coughed nervously. "It's alright Martin, you don't have to explain," she told him, wondering why he was being so detailed, then realising that it was probably the alcohol talking. John had told her he was drinking quite heavily.

"Sorry Deb, probably a bit too much information for you, I didn't mean to offend you. Just tried to explain why my shorts are sticking out so far."

"So the memories are still there, Martin. You're obviously missing her very much."

He didn't answer her, just sat eating his dinner, staring at the television. Deborah continued to watch him, from the side. She thought she saw a tear rolling down his cheek, then another. He had gone silent, attempting to control his emotions.

"I'm sorry, Deb. Maybe you better go, I'm not very good company."

Deborah remembered John's compliments about her counselling skills, she decided that she should at least try. She shuffled along the sofa, closing the gap between them so that her right thigh touched his left thigh. She put her arm around his shoulder and tousled his dirty hair. "Martin, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bring all the memories back."

"No Deb, it's not your fault, it's always there. I can't think about anything else." His head was lowered as he finished the last of the dinner she had provided. "I might have to move. Everywhere I go in this apartment, I can see her, smell her. I probably should try to let go, but she meant everything to me."

"I know she did, Marty, and she loved you. She told me that time and time again."

He turned his head toward her and stared straight into Deborah's eyes. "Did she, Deb? Did she really? Then why did she spend her last nine hours in a motel room with her stinking boss? I can never forgive her for that."

"I can't answer that, Martin. It's as big a mystery to me. We shared a lot, talked about who and what we liked, and didn't like. She never mentioned being unfaithful to you, I still can't accept it."

He turned back to stare at the TV again and she continued to stroke the fingers of her right hand through his hair. Her left hand came over to rest on his left knee, recalling John's suggestion to show Martin some affection.

Martin pushed his empty plate away from him, across the coffee table. His hands disappeared between his thighs and Deborah became apprehensive, not being able to see from the side what he was doing. Then he turned his face to hers, looking her directly eye to eye from barely two feet away.

"I hate to ask you this, Deb. I know I shouldn't, but it's probably the drink talking, so please forgive me if you're offended."

Deborah watched him curiously, not quite understanding the impact of his words. Then, slowly Martin turned, his left leg coming around and folding under his body so that his left knee was brushing her right hip. He was now half-turned toward her. He looked into her eyes pleadingly, "Please Deb!"

"What Martin, what is it?"

His eyes looked down toward his lap and she followed his gaze down. "Can you help me with this?"

Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp when she saw that he had untied the draw cord in his shorts and they lay open, exposing a rigid and very impressive erection, standing straight out from his body. Strangely, mingled with the shock, her first reaction was that she had to agree with her late friend, Amanda. It was a truly magnificent specimen. Circumcised, the smooth purply knob was oozing clear liquid while beyond it the magnificent girth of the shaft disappeared into a tangle of wiry black curls. 'It was not that it was extraordinarily long,' she thought. 'It seemed to be about 7 inches, but it was the thickness of it. She had never seen one so thick through, a rigid mass of blood-engorged flesh.' She was most impressed, but nonetheless shocked that he would reveal himself in such a way to his best friend's wife.

"Please Deb, I know I shouldn't be asking, but I do it to myself every night, and it's getting harder for me to get off. The palm of my hand is not the most romantic object I know."

She looked up at his face and he was looking into her eyes again. His eyes were filled with tears. "I just can't do that, Martin, much as I would love to help you. It just wouldn't be right, for John I mean."

"He'll never know, Deb. I promise I'll never tell him. Please, I just need you to help me get off; your beautiful soft hand would get me over the top in no time. Please!" he implored her. "I was beating away for twenty minutes before you got here, and I was nowhere near coming."

Deborah looked deeply into his pleading eyes and her compassion for him rose. Her initial resolve was weakening. "Martin, I shouldn't do this, it's so wrong."

She had gone from 'can't do that' to 'shouldn't do this'. Deborah stared at him again, her mind whirling, wondering if she should dare touch him, help him. 'Would I be cheating on John?' she thought, then wondered if John had this scenario in mind when he said to her, 'because I'm not there, don't hold back'. She considered could her husband have been that devious?

Despite her conscience telling her no, she really did want to. She wanted to touch this wondrous thick penis that lay exposed and ready before her. She still wasn't sure if she would tell John if she went ahead now and helped Martin get his release. She was reasoning with herself, 'what harm would it do?' and she told herself that there were no positive harm answers to that. 'And I so want to touch it, it's not much longer than John's, but oh God, look how much thicker it is.' She pondered all of this as she looked at her fingers and decided that they wouldn't even meet around its girth.

Martin's voice was no longer pleading, but his eyes were telling her how much he wanted her touch.

'I have to do this, damn the consequences,' she told herself as slowly, her right hand that had been around his neck and in his hair, slipped slowly down his back and came around to touch his upper left inner thigh. Her hand held on his leg for a moment and her eyes searched his, seeking some kind of reassurance for what she was about to do. Tentatively, her fingers reached out and touched the fiery knob, one fingertip tracing the clear juice from the eye of his cock and spreading it all around the knob. Her eyes watched his face closely and saw his eyes almost close in delirium from her touch.

"Thank you!" was all he said in response to her silent commitment.

Her fingers went back for more clear juice from his tip and she spread that along the smooth underside of his shaft. When she was satisfied that she had sufficient lubrication between her hand and his penis, she began to gently stroke her palm up and down from the juncture with his balls to the prominent ridge behind the head.

'My God, if I need any more moisture, I'm sure I could get it from the lips of my cunt,' she thought to herself as she got into a rhythm on his shaft and Martin began uttering little moans with each stroke. Deborah checked to see that his eyes were still closed, then moved her left hand that had previously rested on his knee. She parted her thighs and slipped that hand silently up between her legs, pushing her skirt up with it, exposing her bare thighs almost to the top. Her fingers reached her panties and found them just as soaked as she had anticipated. 'Wow, what a turn-on this is, I can't believe it is having as much effect on me as it is on him, and I haven't even been kissed or touched.'

Her right hand maintained that steady rhythm, mainly up and down the underside, but occasionally her thumb staying under and her fingers wrapping over the topside of his shaft, pumping him. Such was the mass of his organ that she just couldn't get the fingers to touch the tip of her thumb.

He just sat still, moaning and gasping as each stroke of her hand thrilled him, driving the very beginnings of a release deep down in his sac. His breathing quickened a little and Deborah marvelled at the power of satisfaction she was bringing this man, this friend of four years standing … and she hadn't even had to kiss him.

Her left hand had stayed at the moist crotch of her panties, just applying a little pressure to her outer lips through the thin nylon material. Again, she checked to see that his eyes were still closed, then her fingers slipped to the edge of the crotch of her panties and pushed them aside. Two fingers slipped across and parted her outer lips that were sopping wet. Her fingers came forward and lightly feather-touched her budding clitoris. A loud moan escaped her lips and her eyes shot open to see his eyes looking back at her.

"Can I do that for you?" he asked. "A man's hand will feel much better."

"No!" she said abruptly, disturbed that he had caught her enjoying this moment. Her hand on him stopped. She had told herself that this special thing that she had been doing for him was quite okay because she was only a detached person helping a friend. Now that he had witnessed her own participation, the guilt surfaced and she feared that she was betraying her husband.

"Don't stop," he screamed. "Please don't stop," he added breathlessly and he thrust his cock forcefully within her grip. "Stopping now will be worse than never having started."

Deborah struggled with her guilt, her downcast eyes looked up to see his eyes imploring her to resume. Despite her misgivings, she began moving her fist again. Martin grabbed her other hand, the one that had been digging into her crotch and brought her fingers up to his nose, breathing in deeply her carnal aroma. She tried to pull them away, but he held her hand firmly, then dragged her fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.

"You have a beautiful taste, I wish that I could taste it more."

"Martin, this is getting out of hand," she rebuked him, although still maintaining her steady rhythm on his shaft.

He became very apologetic, he couldn't have her stop now, before he could cum. "I'm sorry, I can't help saying what I think. I don't want to offend you, I won't ask for anything more." He moved the hand that he had held in his mouth, and pushed it back down to her legs, shoving it back up under her skirt, the hem of which now barely covered her magic spot. "I'm sorry that I broke the spell, you looked like you were really enjoying the moment."

Placing her hand back there pushed her skirt up and he could see the dampened crotch of her panties, one side still pulled across and caught between her swollen outer lips. That image only hastened the work her hand was doing on his cock. He felt his finish was now approaching.

Deborah left her hand where he had put it, up against her mound, but she wouldn't resume touching herself while he was watching. There would be time enough later for her to seek her own release, maybe she could get John to get her off when she got home. That is, if she could overcome the guilt she was now feeling.

She watched his face and listened to his breathing and knew his end was in sight. She moved the hand from between her legs and cupped his balls, gently massaging them.

Oh Deb, can you suck me please?" he pleaded.

"No, that's taking this too far," she told him bluntly.

"Please Deb, your mouth … that will do it," he gasped.

"You're almost there anyway … you won't need it."

"Sometimes … I get this close and my orgasm just fades. Please Deb?"

Already, Deborah was doing more than she ever expected to be doing with this man. She again wrestled with her conscience. This would be taking it to the next level. 'Poor John,' she thought, 'what am I doing to him?' as she slipped off the lounge onto her knees on the floor and leant over Martin, her two hands never missing a beat of the rhythm she had created.

She had never enjoyed fellatio, even with John. 'There is no way he's going to stick that thing down my throat,' she told herself. She opened her mouth wide, stuck her tongue all the way out and her fisting hand moved his cock so that the underside of the head was lapped by her tongue, just the way a cat drinks milk.

"Oh my God!" he screamed.

Deborah turned her head sideways to avoid his release going down her throat. She just wasn't ready to swallow any man's cum just yet. Her tongue against his cock was all that he needed, Martin felt the mighty surge leave his balls, travelling up inside his long thick shaft.

"Yes … yes … yes!" was all he could manage to say as the first burst of his creamy discharge spewed from his cock and spurted skyward above Deborah's head. She quickly pulled her head and tongue away, but continued her hand's steady strokes on his cock as a second burst flew skyward. She watched, fascinated by the size of the object she held as Martin reached his ultimate satisfaction, his first release in more than a month that was not from his own hand.

Deborah knelt on the floor, her chin on his knee, just watching his cock dreamily. Her hand had slowed and now stroked gently and slowly as what appeared to be the last drops of a vast amount of cum oozed out of the top of his deflating cock. Her gaze lifted up to his face, a mask of pleasure written across it with his eyes shut and his lips slightly apart, still gasping out the last strains of his pleasure.

She at last withdrew her hand when she saw that his cock had slackened down to a flaccid state. 'Still most impressive!' she thought as she admired it even in its sleepy mode. 'I wonder what it would feel like driving inside of me; I guess I'll never know. That would be too big a step for me to take.'

Deborah stood up, her own legs a bit shaky despite not coming herself. She smoothed her skirt down with her dry hand to again look demure, looking around to see if she could see tissues to wipe the cum off the hand that had done all the work.

Martin opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Thank you so much, Deb. That was truly amazing," he told her.

"All I did was masturbate you, Martin," dismissing its importance in her mind as she prepared herself for going home to face John.

"That's all it may have been to you, Deb. But the soft touch of your hands, compared to my old blistered hand, and your tongue … that magic tongue, that's what got me there in the end."

Deborah eventually found some tissues on top of a cupboard and she wiped away his semen, then touching her hair, feeling for sticky moisture, wondering where that first spurt went, the one that burst up and out and above her head.

"Deb, I'm sorry that I intruded on your own special moment back there." She looked curiously at him, as if she didn't understand what he was saying. "I mean, when you were doing yourself with your own fingers."

She turned to face him, she had hoped that he wouldn't mention that. Knowing that he had seen her doing herself while she was wanking him embarrassed her.

"You were obviously turned on too … I mean, to be doing that to yourself while you were wanking me. Can I do something for you now, Deb? To help you get a release too?"

"No Martin, I'm quite okay. I don't need that, I was just … just…" She didn't want to admit how turned on she was by seeing and touching such a gigantic cock. "I was just feeling the moment, it's gone now."

"Okay, Deb. Tell me, are you going to tell John about what you've done for me?" he asked her.

"I don't know. Seriously Martin, I just have no idea. My mind is whirling, I'm full of guilt, I should never have done this, and I feel so disloyal to the man that loves me. But on the other hand…" and her frown turned to a smile for him. "I am so very pleased that I could do something nice for you just then, to ease away some of the hurt that you've been feeling."

"Deb, what you just did for me … you will never know how much better I feel. To you, it may have been just a simple act, just a quick wank for a friend, but I feel so much better after that! You know, I've been doing that for myself every night for the past month but after you doing it for me, I've never felt like I do right now."

"I should hope so, I'm a real live woman compared to a hand."

"You sure are! Tell John that if he's ever willing to lend you to me for complete sex, I will treat you so well … and I'll respect you too, Deb."

"I am sure you would, Martin, particularly with that," and her head nodded toward his lap and his now flaccid penis. As soon as she said it, she wished she could take it back.

"You like the size of my cock, do you Deb?"

She didn't want to go down this track and simply gave a non-committal "Ummm!"

"Have you ever had one that thick, Deb? Had it in you, I mean?"

"I don't want to do that comparison thing, Martin."

"No Deb, I'm not talking about John, I've seen him in the showers at the golf club. I know that his is nowhere near as thick as mine is. I just meant in the past, Deb, have you ever had one like that before, when you were younger."

"Damn you Martin, no … no I haven't! Never one that thick! Never one that I couldn't get my fingers around! There, are you satisfied?"

"Very satisfied, thank you Deb," he answered with a smile, referring instead to his feeling of wellbeing after an enormous orgasm. Then, going back to her meaning, he added, "It will always be here for you if you ever want to experience it. I know you would enjoy it."

"That's enough, Martin. I feel bad enough that we've just done what we have, now you're being disrespectful to John." She picked up her plate that had contained the meal she brought him. "I've got to go!"

Martin stood and walked toward her, but she could see a kiss or some affection coming and she backed away. "Please get yourself back into life, Martin. Have a shave, wash your hair and spruce yourself up. Life does go on." She said all this at a distance as she backed toward the door.

"Deb, I promise you I will do all those things, all because of what you have just done for me. Not just for the great wank, but for dinner too. Thanks Deb, and please thank John for me!" He wanted to kiss her, but saw how edgy she was about that, as he stood there with his shorts now down around his ankles and his penis hanging limply, still an impressive size in its flaccid state. 'If John wasn't such a good friend, I am certain I could have her,' he thought as she closed the door behind her.

Deborah wrestled with her thoughts on the drive home. As she parked the car and walked up to her front door, she still didn't know what she was going to say to John.

Chapter 2

Entering her home, Deborah checked herself in the hall mirror, looking to see if there was guilt written all over her face. She couldn't tell! "Hi honey, are you still up?" she called out. The response sounded as if it came from the kitchen, so she walked that way. "Ah, there you are," she said as she went over and gave John a kiss on the cheek. He was standing at the kitchen sink, washing the dishes.

"How did it go?" asked John.

"How did what go?" she answered nervously.

"Seeing Martin, silly. Did he appreciate the dinner you took over?" John looked at her with exasperation, but Deborah read it as suspicion.

Err … yes … yes, he did. He ate it all, look here's the plate."

"You seem hesitant, darling, is something wrong? Was Martin okay?"

No … well, that is … you were right."

"Right … what was I right about, darling?"

"About Martin, honey. About how he looks. You know, he was always so well groomed, so handsome. But he's … he's sort of let himself go since Mandy died. He needs a shave, his hair is dirty and uncombed. He's lost that vibrant, happy way of his."

"You seem nervous, Deb … is something the matter?"

"No John, it was just … just Martin. I was so surprised at how he's let himself go."

"The poor bugger's doing it tough in the sex department too."

"Oh really?" Deborah answered, trying to look curious and interested, but not too much.

"Yeah, told me at golf last Saturday that he wanks off every night, has done every night since Amanda died. Can't stop himself, misses her dreadfully and misses the regular sex they were having."

"Yes, he told me too!" It had just slipped out before she could weigh up whether her knowing that would seem be too much information for her own good.

"Did he? He told you about wanking himself?" Now it was John's turn to look curious, genuinely curious.

Her mind spun as she debated how much more to say. "Yes, it was odd that he said it. I think he was just trying to explain away why he had a massive hard-on when I arrived."

"He did … how do you know that?" quizzed John.

"He was only wearing a tee and shorts, and the shorts were tented, it was just standing straight out."

"Did that turn you on, honey?"

How would she answer that? Would he want to hear his lovely wife admit it? Deborah paused, not sure what to say, whether to tell him the truth. "Oh yes, I guess so, you know me, I'm always impressed by your hard-ons."

"Martin's got quite a solid one, hasn't he?" his eyes studied her reaction closely as he asked.

"How would you know?" Deborah answered his question with a question of her own.

"I've seen him in the showers at the golf club."

"What is it about you guys? Do you two go checking each other out at the golf club?"

"No, why? Did he say something similar?" There was a pause while the realisation hit John. "What happened, did he ask you to compare sizes? Did he say that he'd seen mine at the club and mine was smaller than his?"

"No … no, nothing like that," she responded nervously.

"So what did you say to him when he told you about wanking off every night?" John was staring at her intently, watching her reaction closely.

Her eyes darted, not knowing how to answer. By the time she did speak, her body language had probably given her away. "I just said … err, I said … I said that was awful for him."

"You didn't offer to help him with that, did you?"

"No!" she almost shouted the response, trying to be emphatic.

"It would have been alright if you had, I wouldn't mind. You know, helping a good friend of ours. That would be okay with me."

Deborah was stunned; she didn't know what to say. She just stared back at John disbelievingly before she eventually said, "Why … what do you mean by that?"

"I just mean that Martin has lost the love of his life and you and I have been best friends with he and Amanda for four years. So, if you felt that you needed to offer him some comfort … even if it was very personal and intimate comfort … you know, at this time, then I would understand perfectly. It would not affect our loving relationship one bit." He paused. "So long as you told me about it, you know, all the details of what happened … of what you might have done for him. You know, at his time of need. Like, I'd hate to find out somewhere later on that it had happened and you hadn't told me."

Deborah felt pushed into a corner. She knew she had to confess now, all of it, every salacious moment.

"John…" she said very tentatively.

"Yes, my darling," he responded, moving closer to her, his arms going around her, pulling her close to his body.

Deborah was now tight up against him, her face against the collar of his shirt. That helped her because she didn't have to look directly into his eyes. "John, if I did help him tonight … you know, with his wanking problem … would you really be alright with that. I mean, you won't get mad at me, you know, for not asking you first."

"Of course not, Deb. I just told you, I would perfectly understand if you did something intimate to help such a good friend of ours in his time of need."

Deborah pulled her head back from his collar and looked up into his eyes for confirmation of his verbal reassurance. When she was satisfied with what she saw in his eyes, she spoke. "Because I did, you know?"

With her body pulled tight against his, her revelation drew an immediate reaction as she felt a twitch in his groin, pressed hard up against her tummy.

"I thought you might have, Deb. So just what did you do for him?"

"I … I gave him a release with my hand, John. I … sort of … masturbated him with this hand." She held it up to show him like it was some kind of trophy.

"How did it happen, Deb. What made you start doing it?"

"Well, I took his dinner to him and I sat alongside him on the sofa. I told you how I'd noticed his erection tenting his shorts out in front. Anyway, he obviously knew that I'd seen it. I mean, the lights were on in the room, so you couldn't miss it. So he started telling me how he was having a wank every night, just because he missed the regular sex he'd been having with Mandy."

"How were you feeling at this stage?"

"Well, I must say I was a bit uneasy being alone with him while he was talking about wanking and sex with Mandy, and with his big thing just sticking out. Anyway, he finished eating his dinner and he was, well, he was … like just a bit emotional. I saw some tears on his cheek. He turned around to face me and he asked could I help him with something. I didn't know what he was talking about, but then I looked down and he'd opened his shorts and there it was."

"Tell me Deb … tell me what you were thinking at that moment."

"Well, first of all, I was shocked … you know, that he would just get it out in front of me, in front of his best friend's wife. But more shocked probably that he was asking me to help him with it."

"But you knew what he meant by help him with it, didn't you?"

"John, I'm not stupid. There's our friend Martin with his bloody cock out, erect as a damn stallion, pointing straight up at me. What else would I think he wanted me to do with it?"

"So what did you say?"

"I told him I couldn't do it. I said to him that it wouldn't be fair to you, and that I just couldn't."

"Did he persist?"

"Oh yes, he swore that he'd never say anything to you, that it would just be between us. He was pleading John … he must have felt so humiliated to have to beg me like that. I felt so sorry for him that my reluctance began to fade."

"Surely you were just a bit impressed with the size of him too, Deb?"

"I would be lying if I didn't admit that. I had never seen one quite like it. You know, he's circumcised so it's all there in front of you, all smooth, nothing hidden, and my God, he is just so thick. I couldn't get my fingers and thumb to meet around it."

"So you gave in and did it for him?"

"I am so sorry, John. I just feel so guilty that I've let you down, broken our marriage vows."


"Deb, I've just told you it's quite okay. I don't love you any less. In fact, I probably love you a lot more for what you did for our friend."

Deb pulled back to look at him squarely in the face. "I am feeling that, John."

"Feeling what, darling?"

"Feeling that maybe you love me more." One of her hands reached down between them and she grabbed a hold of him through his trousers. He was fully erect. "What's this all about? Are you turned on by hearing that I touched and fondled Martin's cock?"

He looked at her sheepishly. "I have to admit that I am, Deb. Very turned on!"

"Yes, I can feel it, you haven't been that hard in ages. What is it, are you sick or something. Does the thought of me being with our best friend do it for you?"

"I'm afraid it does, Deb. I have to have you now." John suddenly spun her body around so that she was pressed up against the kitchen table, the top of her thighs pressed against the edge. Then he put his hand on her back and bent her forward so that her upper body was laying face down on the table, her breasts squashed flat.

Deborah felt his hands lifting her skirt, pushing it up above her bottom, to bunch up around her waist. Then those same hands were yanking her panties down, baring her bottom as they fell around her ankles. His foot trod on the crotch of her panties and she willingly lifted one foot to free it from their hold.

Then this same foot was nudging her feet apart. She sensed what he was trying to do and she complied, spreading her feet well apart, surprised but actually loving this rare display of impulsive sexual desire from her husband. She felt his two hands roaming softly over her arse cheeks, fondling her soft skin.

One of his hands came around the front and traced a soft line up her slit, parting the folds of her outer lips, revealing to him some moisture there. Was it left over from her experience with Martin, or was this freshly stirred by John's sudden carnal desires? Deborah sighed contentedly.

His other hand softly fondled both cheeks of her arse before one finger insinuated itself between those cheeks that were now lewdly spread apart. One finger ever so gently touched her anal ring. She had never liked being touched there, her upbringing told her it was dirty. Deborah gasped and her cheeks clenched in reaction, gripping his finger briefly.

His fingers at her cunt were busy now, drawing the juices amazingly quickly from her body, then coming up to the top of her slit and uncovering her sensitive clitoris. Two fingers swirled around it and Deborah's attention was diverted from her arse, her clit reacting, all of her sensations pent up from her earlier arousal with Martin coming forward.

Deborah, her upper body flat on the table, managed to turn her head half around and she whispered huskily at her husband, "Yes, do me now. I want you, John. I love you, John." She was so relieved that revealing her infidelity with Martin was bringing such a good reaction from John.

The fingers at her cunt left her momentarily. She heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper sliding, then his fingers were back, separating the outer lips and then his rock hard cock nudged between her thighs and slid into her sopping slit, lapping up her juices and contributing some of its own. She was ready so quickly.

His shaft made several thrusts along her slit, each one nudging her clit while in her arse, just one finger continued to gently circle her exposed anal ring. Deborah was so delirious with the sensations she was getting that she was overcoming her prior dislike of having her anus intimately touched.

John knew that this could not be a marathon effort, he must tend to his wife's needs quickly before he lost it. He was just so turned on. Several more thrusts along her slit from back to front, each one culminating in his knob pausing at her clit and Deborah's breathing had quickened. She was moaning out her pleasure, unashamed to reveal how rapidly she had become aroused.

At last, John pulled back far enough along her slit and adjusted his body slightly and with the aid of his fingers, his next stroke nudged inside of her. It was only the head at first and he paused there and Deborah cried out, "Oh yes, give it to me now!" Her arms reached forward and her hands gripped the edges of the table, bracing herself for his full entry.

With the knob of his cock embedded, the fingers that were wet from their juices now strayed around to her bottom, pushing his dry hand away. John stroked the wet fingers around and around her anal ring while his cock held just inside her cunt.

Then together in one slick movement, he slowly pushed his cock in deeper … gaining ground, sliding smoothly into her cunt while one wet finger forced itself past her sphincter and pushed inside her rectal passage to the first knuckle. Deborah screamed out with the double penetration and she clamped all her muscles tight, holding John's cock hard up inside her cunt while his finger was trapped up her arse.

They held like that for a long moment, then slowly Deborah released her muscular grip and John began to withdraw his shaft right back till only his knob was inside her. Then, harder and stronger this time, the shaft of his cock drove in, filling her all the way up inside.

A rhythm began and John didn't hold back, thrusting himself solidly into his wife's cunt. There was nothing subtle about his lovemaking, it was intended to bring them both to near instantaneous pleasure, and it was working. The finger he had insinuated into Deborah's arse was gentler, just wiggling a little and she loved the new sensation of that.

He had been inside his wife for barely a minute when he heard and felt the telltale signs of her impending orgasm. She was getting to it in record time and John was relieved that she appeared to be going to make it ahead of him, because he knew that on this occasion, there was no holding him back. From the moment his cock entered her, he was driven to achieve his release.

Deborah was rapidly panting and gasping now, her lower body thrusting back at her husband, meeting his inward strokes to draw maximum satisfaction from the release that she knew could only now be seconds away. John never missed a beat, the strong steady rhythm of his powerful thrusts extracting a major orgasm out of Deborah. As her body continued to be shoved hard into the table, the magical fireworks display went off throughout her whole body as waves of throbbing pleasure washed through her and her whole abdominal area spasmed around the still thrusting cock.

Despite her release, John never missed a stroke and in less than twenty seconds more, he joined her as a powerful jet of semen spurted from within his shaft, coating the insides of Deborah's intimate passage. John held himself wedged up tight inside his wife while his cock continued its spasming releases into her. Her muscles again gripped him tight, holding him there for as long as he could remain rigid enough not to slip out.

At last, Deborah felt his finger slowly withdrawing from her arse, then as her anal ring snapped shut behind it, she felt John's now only semi-hard cock withdrawing from her soppy cunt, the juices spilling out after him, matting her sparse pubic hair and dribbling down her thighs.

John pushed himself up off her back and stood up shakily. For a moment, Deborah just lay flat on the table where she had been pinned. Then slowly, she used her hands to push herself upright, her legs also so shaky that she grabbed for a chair and sat down, facing her husband.

They looked at each other and both began laughing. "Where did all that come from?" asked Deborah. "That was awesome!"

"I guess … I mean, I have to admit that the thought of you being with our best friend just turned me on."

"But I've never known you to be so … so…"

"Such an a****l," suggested John.

"Yes … I suppose so. It was just like you had to have me here and now, no matter what … and nothing was going to stop you. I think that's what got to me, the overpowering nature of how much you wanted me. I could not have denied you … not that I wanted to. How can we bottle that passion?"

"Send you over to Martin once a week," answered John with a laugh.

"What … no way!" shot back Deborah.

"No … just k**ding, darling. Just k**ding."

There was silence between them for a while as they both continued to regather their normal breathing, then Deborah spoke. "That does appear to have been the spark, John."

"What's that, Deb?"

"I mean, I went over to Martin, did something I should never have done, and never have wanted to do. Then I have so much guilt that I tell you about it, and the next thing, you are having me on the kitchen table. You couldn't even wait to get me to bed."

John walked over to his wife, his legs now steadier. He put an arm around her shoulder, His cock was still hanging flaccid from the open fly of his trousers and she lifted one hand and gently stroked her fingers down the top of the shaft. "I have to admit, Deb, that I was so turned on by your description of what happened and by my picturing you doing it all to him."

"That sounds a bit sick, John."

"No it's not, I have heard that many men … I mean, heaps of men … are turned on by either watching or having described to them, what their wives do with another man. It's not a minority thing, Deb."

"Well, I think it's weird, John. Whatever happened to marriage vows?"

"It's like swinging couples, Deb, they just do it to spice up their marriages. If the couples love each other, then the marriage remains strong and the casual sex with another partner just becomes another element in their lives together."

"I don't know if I'd want us to go down that path, John," she told him, still stroking his cock.

"It could be worth it for us if it led to the type of sex we've just had. I don't know if we have ever been that uninhibited, that intense. I mean we always do it in bed for a start."

Deborah felt his cock had grown just a little, so her fingers wrapped right around his cock. 'No trouble getting my fingers and thumb to join around this one,' she thought. 'Even though he's not fully erect, I know that I can still hold him fully when he is.'

"Deb, we actually didn't finish talking about your time with Martin," said John, feeling the effect that his wife's fingers were having on him.

"Oh, yes we did, there was nothing else," she answered.

"We only got up to where you weakened in your resolve and began to touch him."

"Yes, I told you I masturbated him with my hand."

"But I know what a man in that position would feel like, he would have been so horny that he would have wanted more than just your hand. Did he ask you to suck him, Deb?"

"No!" she told him emphatically, then again felt guilty for not being entirely truthful. 'What if Martin told him the full story some time?' she thought. "Well, not really, he did ask and I didn't want to, so in the end, I just licked the head of it to help him finish off."

She felt his cock jerk and stiffen as she made that revelation and again she was amazed at how telling him these intimate details of her time with Martin gave him such a reaction.

"Did he come in your mouth?"

"No, you know I don't like that. I didn't want him to, so I pulled away."

"Did you like the feel of such a big cock on your tongue?"

"Yes!" she answered huskily and he looked into her eyes and could see that she really did.

"Did he touch you down there or offer to help you cum too?"

Deborah felt uneasy at this inquisition. She was having to give up more and more information and it made her appear to be more complicit in what had, to her, been simply masturbating a friend for his benefit.

By her not answering immediately, John jumped to a conclusion that wasn't correct. "He did, didn't he?" and Deborah again felt his cock jerk in her hand. It was nearly erect again.

"No John, definitely not, he didn't, really!"

"Okay, okay!"

Feeling she needed to clarify her position more, she added, "He did ask me if I wanted him to, but I told him no. And I think that he only asked because I did get caught up in the moment and I had begun touching myself, under my panties, and I opened my eyes and he was watching me. I was so embarrassed that I stopped, and I couldn't do it any more in case he caught me again."

"So that's why you were already wet when I touched you here before?"

"Yes, that's why. I had been turned on, John." She knew that he wanted to hear that and the reaction in her hand confirmed it.

Deborah was now holding his rigid cock, it was standing straight out horizontally and she felt moisture oozing from the tip. "My God, you are ready again, I can't believe that."

"Let's go to bed, darling, I want you again!"

"I'm all for that," she told him as she rose and they left the kitchen, turning off the downstairs lights as they headed up the stairs to their bedroom.

John watched the movement of his wife's arse under her skirt as she climbed the stairs in front of him and he reached out and caressed her bottom. Deborah turned her head and smiled at him as she reached the top stair. She paused there, her hands unclasped the waistband of her skirt and it fell in a pool around her feet. Her blouse didn't quite cover her bare arse, her panties still left discarded on the kitchen floor. From two steps below her, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on each arse cheek.

"Come on," she said and held out her hand. They hurried into the bedroom and she went straight to the bed, collapsing on her back and holding her arms out to him. John quickly dropped his trousers, then his underpants and he dropped down beside her. Although his arousal was again massive, all of it driven by her description of intimate moments with Martin, he was determined that this time their lovemaking would be longer.

It was … almost an hour passed before they switched out the bedside lamp and spooned together, having both achieved another earth-shattering climax after a long period of foreplay. As they each drifted off to sleep, both were amazed at how much arousal could be evoked by such a simple act occurring between Deborah and Martin.

Chapter 3

John and Deborah were very romantic and clingy with each other the next morning with lots of gentle touches and lingering kisses, although being a working day, there was no time for any further torrid sex together.

As John left for work, he kissed his wife goodbye, surprising her by saying, "I'm going to call Martin today, see if he'll come over Friday night. You know, resume our dinners."

"Oh John, I don't know if I'm ready to face him after what I did. It might be a bit embarrassing."

"No, that's nonsense Deb. You'll be fine, see you tonight." With that, he was gone and Deborah was left with her thoughts. She recalled the two sessions of lovemaking with her husband -- one of them spread over the kitchen table - and was amazed at how deep and fulfilling they were. But she also thought of her brief intimate encounter with Martin. She was ashamed because when she pictured Martin in her mind, it was that massive tool of his that dominated her thoughts.

That evening when John came home, Deborah was delighted that the newfound affection and romance in their lives was continuing. He brought her flowers and a bottle of wine, which they consumed with and after dinner. They sat together on the lounge, his arm d****d around her shoulder and each with a glass in their hand.

"Deb, I called Martin today and he said he'd be delighted to come for dinner."

"Oh damn, you didn't."

"Yes, I told you I was going to."

"But I said I'd rather you wait. I'm going to be so embarrassed."

"No, you'll be fine. Just be yourself, you'll be able to handle it."

"I don't think I better handle it again," she said to him with a wry smile and John laughed uproariously.

"It certainly hasn't done us any harm," he told her when his laughter subsided.

"No and I love it … I mean how much more intimate we seem to be."

"We'll have to keep stoking that fire."

"What does that mean, John?" she asked, her head lifting off his shoulder to look directly into his eyes.

"Maybe we need some more intimate moments between you and Martin to spark our fires."

"No … no we don't! I'm quite happy with just you and me." She paused, still looking at him. "What are you up to, are you planning something … something that I may not like?"

"No, just inviting our old friend to resume our Friday night dinners … that's all, Deb."

"What was said on the phone today, John? Did you or he mention my being over there with him?"

"Well, I didn't bring it up … he just said that you and he had a great time last night, and he thanked me for sending you over with dinner."

"And that was all?"

"Oh, he said something about you being over there with him had inspired him to move on with his life, and he was now going to put Amanda in the past. He was very complimentary, credited you with putting his life back on track."

"Wow, that's great!"

"Yeah, all from one five minute wank. You're damn good."

She playfully punched her husband on the arm. "He didn't say that?" she queried.

"No, I put that bit in."

When they went to bed that evening, they again made love for nearly an hour. John gave her a pounding climax by going down on her, then he allowed her some time to come back down from that before he gave her another while they enjoyed a long intercourse.

The next morning was Friday, the mood was, once again, intimate and romantic over breakfast. Just as John prepared to leave, he told her, "I might have to go out tonight, Deb, leave you to entertain Martin on your own. That'll be alright, won't it?"

"What … what are you saying? No, it won't be. If you can't be here, you'll have to cancel Martin. I don't want to be alone in the house with him."

"But it will be a chance to see his big cock again, Deb. Maybe even feel it inside you."

"What … have you gone stark raving mad? What are you suggesting?"

"Deb, let's face it. You did seem to enjoy wanking and licking him the other night. Remember, you said you were even touching yourself, so you were obviously turned on by it all. And look at what it has done for our love life, we can't keep away from each other, but the memory of that one wank won't last forever. We need something else between you and Martin to inspire our own sex life."

"I don't think we do," said Deborah, calming down just a bit. "John, really I don't want to be alone in this house with him tonight."

"Well darling, actually you won't be. I'm only going to tell him that I'm going out. I thought that I'd set up inside our wardrobe, leave the door open just a crack so I can watch you two do it."

"What?" She was angry again, incredulous really. "You must be crazy, I couldn't do it with him, knowing you were watching me."

"Yes you could, and you will, darling. What could be better than you telling me what you two did? For me to actually see it, watch and hear every moan, every groan, hear and see every time you come. Watch you worship his big cock, see the first time you take it up inside you. Then, when he goes home, you and I can re-live it all over and over again. We could probably go on till dawn. It's Saturday tomorrow, I've cancelled my golf game, so we can sleep until lunchtime, then wake up and do it again all afternoon."

"I can't believe that you've planned something like this. How long have you been working on this?"

"Only since you took Martin into your own hands. Deb, you've created this, by choosing to bring Martin into our marriage."

"That is most unfair, John. You know why I did it. I told you how guilty I felt by doing it. Now you're trying to turn it back on me, make it look like I started it."

"Darling, I just know that you and I have never felt such intense love since you wanked Martin two nights ago. We weren't even this close when we got married. Your being with Martin has made us both want each other more. It's obvious that the size of his cock impressed you, got you interested in something more, you can't deny it. I just think that if you can take this next step - no more after that - just have one big night feeling him fucking you and having me watch it. Well, these new intense feelings between us will just go on and on."

She did seem to waiver slightly. "John, I don't know. I'm afraid we're messing with something dangerous. I don't want it to break us up."

"It won't Deb, I can promise you that."

"I'll think about it, that's all I'll promise, John. I will think about it. It's probably all I'll think about all day, it would be such a big step."

"That's great, darling. Have a good day, I'll see you tonight. I'm gonna come home early, a bit after five. Martin's due at seven, so I'll run you a good hot bath and I want to lay out a nice outfit for you, something that will really turn him on."

"I haven't said yes, John."

"I know, not yet. Bye Deb, see you tonight," he kissed her and was gone.

Deborah was right, she thought of nothing else all day as she wrestled with her conscience. Should she or shouldn't she? She had to admit that she was greatly impressed with Martin's magnificent 7 inches, although it was the width more than the length that appealed to her. She figured that after a session with Martin, she would know that she'd been well fucked, having had that monstrous thing of his up inside her.

But could she handle her husband watching every moment of her intimacy with Martin? Telling him about it was one thing, but having him see it all, watching her having sexual pleasure with another man was something else again. 'What am I going to do?' she pondered. She had girlfriends, but none that she would feel comfortable discussing this option with. Ironically, she would have been able to talk to Amanda about this. She presumed that Amanda being so sexual would probably have approved.

To be continued. I hope that you like my writing effort . Look for Part 2 coming within the next week.