The Proposal - Chapter 1 free porn video

For my workout plan, I usually vary my heavy lifting to every other day, alternating between upper body and lower. Sunday, I set aside for recovery. Having a balanced program where you don’t over tax your muscles is important to an overall fitness plan. My name is Jason Alexander, and I’ve been addicted to body building since I was a teen. Fitness was my life… literally. My wife Allison is a licensed dietitian who is going to school part time to become a registered nurse. She has a daily regimen of cardio that would kill the average person. She only lifts light weights for muscle tone and core strength. Our individual plans are as different in structure as in goals; mine is for body sculpting, whereas hers is strictly for health and fitness. 

Looking at us, you’d probably guess we met at a gym, but we actually met ten years ago at a church summer retreat where I was a counselor and she was a high school senior. The Camp was located next to a lake that had multiple water slides, so everyone was wearing their bathing suits.  I was given the unpopular assignment of policing the camp enforcing the church’s modesty rules, which I found silly but probably necessary with forty-five hormonal teenagers in attendance. After all, this was a church camp and not your normal spring break crowd. After a few hours on patrol, observing these teens, I felt we’d be lucky to come home from this trip without a bunch of pregnancies.

I’ll never forget this one very developed girl that had totally ignored the dress code wearing a string bikini instead of a one-piece required by the church guidelines—and this wasn’t your normal two-piece bathing suit. It consisted of three tiny triangles that barely covered her privates and a string between her butt cheeks. When the group she was with saw me approaching, there were a few boos because they knew what I was about to say.

 “Miss, may I talk with you over at the leader’s tent?”

She turned and flashed a smile that would melt most mortals, but I was a man on a mission. She dutifully followed me to the tent and asked, “What’s up?”

“Do you wear a small or petite?” I asked, trying hard not to stare at her.

“I dunno—small, I guess,” she replied.

I fished through the cases of replacement one-piece suits and tossed her one.

“Here, please go put this on so you can comply with the dress code.”

“You don’t like my suit?” she asked with a grin.

“It doesn’t matter if I like it or not… Just wear this one piece.”

She gave me a wickedly defiant smile and rather than wait for me to leave the tent, she pulled her string ties, letting the teeny weenie bikini fall to the tent floor. I froze like a statue as she stepped into the one-piece and wiggled putting it on. I couldn’t speak as my words stuck in my throat. I remained motionless, gawking at the scene before me.

When she turned to leave, she looked over her shoulder, smiled and said, “Thanks for the suit. I guess I’ll be seeing more of you later?... Since you’ve already seen all of me.” She giggled.

I watched, dumbfounded as that perfect round butt swayed away.

Oh my God!

So, that’s how I met Allie, the love of my life. After our memorable first meeting, I contacted her via text, and we talked for over a month before she agreed to a date. As you might imagine, it was an extremely challenging courtship, seeing our age difference and backgrounds. To make things more complicated, her father was a retired Navy Seal who had a very strong opinion on body builders. According to him, they were nothing but a bunch of “narcissistic freaks.”

Allie’s mom, Kay, was a completely different story. She was always nice to me, probably because she was ten years younger than Allie’s dad. It was obvious where Allie got her looks. Kay was just an older version of her daughter, still beautiful in her forties and could easily pass for early thirties.

I wish I could say that sex with Allie was spectacular, but it would be almost a year until I even made it to third base with her. It was torture during our long a make out sessions. I often wondered if a guy could actually die from blue balls. I’ll always remember the day when it all changed. We were eating breakfast at IHOP, early on a Saturday morning when out of nowhere Allie said, “I’m ready.”

“Ready? Ready to order?” I asked, believing she was referring to her breakfast.

I choked on my coffee when she casually replied, “No, I mean I’ve given it a lot of thought and I think I’m ready for… you know… sex.”

After her rebuffing my advances for so long, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and just stared at her, speechless.

She nervously added, “Of course you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”

I felt like I’d just won the lottery. I wanted to jump up and cheer but played it cool and casual. We didn’t quite finish eating breakfast and ended up at my apartment in record time. At first it was clumsy not knowing each other’s likes or dislikes, so during the next several hours, we consummated our relationship. Even though I was her first, our love making seemed to lack the initial virginal struggle. Allie revealed to me that she had taken her own cherry with a dildo a week earlier to avoid the awkward first-time moments. It shouldn’t have surprised me. Aside from her beauty and intelligence, she was pragmatic to a fault.

She fit into my arms like she always belonged there. Her body was that of a goddess and I worshiped at her temple. This step in our relationship had changed everything.  Sex quickly became a regular and natural part of our lives, and much to her dad’s very vocal disapproval, she moved in with me three weeks later.

Almost a year later, I asked her to marry me while she was on her summer break from junior college. However, nothing about her was simple, including how she responded to my proposal. I popped the question after we finished an afternoon of ocean kayaking. I got down on one knee in the sand like they do in the movies. A crowd quickly formed around us as I fumbled around in my board shorts, searching for the ring.

When I presented it to her and popped the question, she didn’t answer right away. Instead, she held the engagement ring up to the sun and said, “This better not be a cubic zirconia…”

“Is that a yes?” I asked.

“What do you think, doofus? Why the hell did it take you so long?” The crowd applauded and cheered.

My initial plans for a small wedding morphed into a major event when Allie’s mom and her wedding planner took over. I found myself to be a stranger at my own wedding. Out of two hundred plus guests, I knew maybe six, including Allie, her mom and dad, and my parents. My brother Jack was best man and he seemed to be more comfortable than I was. I’ve always had trouble fitting in with large groups.

Our honeymoon in Paris was like something out of a travel magazine. It was there I discovered how much of a flirt my new bride was. I think it was mostly because she seemed to like triggering my jealousy, but what she didn’t know was that I liked it, also. In hindsight, that was a harbinger of things to come. When men hit on her, it made me proud she was mine.

***

Four years later, I was looking thirty in the face. My business had suffered through the recession, but it ultimately came out stronger. Allie was in graduate school and we had just purchased our first small three-bedroom condo, overlooking the harbor. I swear Allie was even more beautiful now than when we first met, if that were possible. I wished I had purchased a diamond ring with a flashing beacon because it seemed that almost everywhere she went, she was a prime target for every wannabe Don Juan, particularly at that medical college she attended.

This resulted in what I would call my “green period.” It seemed I was constantly jealous of the stories she told me about being hit on daily. However, Allie always reassured me that I had nothing to ever worry about. Eventually, I felt confident enough to move past it, but there was one incident, where I confronted this cocky rich med student named Cal at a hospital party. All evening he spent most of his evening pawing disrespectfully at my wife. I thought he was going to pee himself when I lifted him off the ground with ease and introduced myself as Allie’s husband.

Our marriage remained passionate as time passed, but the frequency of our intimacy decreased as to be expected in most marriages. I think we found our rhythm as a couple as we faced life’s challenges together. However, our folks and were relentlessly pushing us for grandchildren, but we agreed to wait before starting a family. We were fully aware of the pressure children can put on a marriage. It also was bad timing with her finishing school, and the business of just started to take off. Plus, our freedom allowed us to do things and go places kids would prohibit. That was a luxury we weren’t willing to surrender yet.

***

Life was good, maybe too good. I’ve always thought there was a balance to the flow of life. When things were going really well, I had a tendency to start looking over my shoulder.  I remember I was about halfway through my workout at the gym on a Saturday when I was approached by a huge muscled black guy I didn’t recognize. He asked me if I would spot him. I could tell he was a heavy lifter by the overdevelopment of his arms and chest—something I call a “prison physique” caused by an unbalanced workout plan.

“Hi, I’m Jason,” I said, offering my hand.

“I’m Martin.” He smiled with a firm grip. “I appreciate your assistance. I’m new here and could use a regular training partner.”

“I’m glad to help. How much weight do you want to begin with?”

“I’ll start with three hundred on the bench,” he replied, chalking his palms with the rosin bag.

“How about reducing that to two- hundred-and-fifty for the warmup?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

I placed the weights on the bar and looked him over. I could tell he was a serious lifter but not a body builder; he lacked symmetrical development. Martin positioned himself on the bench and twisted his grip on the bar before pumping out five reps. I added fifty more and he easily pushed out another set.

“So, what do you think about the gym?” I asked, adjusting the squat rack.

“It looks like it’s set up for the serious workout enthusiast. It appears to have a good balance between cardio equipment and free weights. What about things like lockers, jacuzzi, and other amenities?”

“If you go through the blue doors, you’ll find the sauna, jacuzzi, and entrance to both men’s and women’s lockers.”

“Sounds like you’ve been goin’ here awhile,” he said, sizing me up.

“Yep, I’ve been coming here since the place opened… You considering joining?”

“Actually, no. I’m here in hopes of getting a job as a part-time trainer.”

“Why part-time?”

“I already work as a part-time volunteer with the Harbor Patrol. What is it you do?” he asked, wiping down the equipment.

“I do this full-time.”

“Teaching and body building?”

“Yes, I teach and train, but I also own this place and it just so happens we have an opening, if you’re interested. My wife can help you fill out an employment application.”

He looked around, as if he were trying to figure out who my wife was. I raised my hand and signaled to Allie, working out on the elliptical. She stopped, cleaned off her machine, put the towel around her neck and briskly walked toward us.

“Holy crap! That’s your wife?” Martin whispered.

As she approached, I said, “Allie, this is Martin. He would like to fill out an employment application.”

She took a long look at him before saying, “Nice to meet you, Martin. We’ve been searching for a trainer.” Allie held out her hand and his palm dwarfed hers as they shook. “If you follow me to the office, we’ll get your information. I’ve got to hurry because I have class later today.”

Martin seemed transfixed on my wife’s ass that was clad in spandex as she walked ahead of him.

***

Later that evening when I got home, Allie was studying on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table. I walked over and gave her a kiss before asking, “How was school?”

“That damn Mr. Phillips is such an asshole.”

“Your chemistry professor?”

“Yeah… him. I’d like you to hold him down while I pour a beaker of H2SO4 down his throat.”

I laughed and asked, “What now?”

“I missed two fucking questions out of a hundred on the final and he said I’d do better if I spent more time on studying and less time on my body.”

“Wow. What did you say?”

“I told that old perv that he should focus more on his teaching and less on my body!”

“That’s my girl.” I laughed.

“It’s a curse.”

“What’s a curse?”

“My looks… it gets tiresome fending off idiots all day long or being dismissed as a dumb chick with the intelligent quotient of my bra size.”

“I guess this might not be the best time to ask what you thought about Martin?”

“Well, it was almost as if he was interviewing me rather than the other way around. He’s a smooth talker and obviously knows his way around a gym. However, he certainly didn’t look comfortable when I told him a big part of the job would be cleanup, including the showers and toilets.”

“So? What’s the verdict?

“I told him we’ll try him out provisionally for a month. He starts tomorrow afternoon.”

“Anything else?”

“Didn’t you graduate from Riverside high 2007?” Allie asked.

“Yeah. Why?”

“His application says he did, also—same year as you.”

“That’s strange.” I paused in confusion. “I’m sure I would have remembered a big guy like him. Our class was just a couple hundred. Where’s my annual?”

Allie got up, walked over to the bookcase and retrieved my annual yearbook with its easy to recognize bright blue cover. She laid it on the table and opened it.

“What’s his last name?” I asked.

“Johnson… Martin D. Johnson… Here he is!” she exclaimed, pointing at his photo. “I can’t believe this is him!”

I walked over to see, and sure enough, it was him. The graduation photo showed him to be a thin almost anorexic kid.

No wonder I didn’t recognize him, I thought.

I vaguely remembered him as a withdrawn loner who always ate lunch alone. You know how it goes in high school: there was the “in-crowd” and then there was everyone else. He looked nothing like the confident mass of a man he was today.

“Do you remember him?” Allie asked.

“Sort of. We never really talked. How was the interview?”

“Well, he spent most of it undressing me—with his eyes, of course. He’s so confident it’s almost obnoxious. You know how I’m a sucker for big muscles… that’s why I married you.” She giggled.

“And all this time I thought you married me for my money,” I quipped.

***

Work was insane the following week with Allie in her finals. I had the task of assembling all our new equipment. German manufacturing might be top of the line, but I wish they had sent instructions in English. Fortunately, with the help of Martin and a German to English translation program, we figured it out.

Martin was a hard worker, but seemed extremely guarded, not volunteering anything personal about himself. After about two weeks, we went to lunch together. While we ate, I asked if he was married or had a steady girlfriend. He paused for a bit before replying. His answer puzzled me.

“I’m not married… but… yes, I actually have several steady girlfriends.”

Several?

I wanted him to explain, but I said nothing, not wanting to seem pushy or cross any lines concerning employee/employer boundaries. However, his reply stuck in my head. A few days later, I mentioned that conversation to my wife. She seemed as confused as I was, offering only that he was probably a player. She added that he had a polished smooth approach with her—nothing too aggressive, but still extremely seductive.

I couldn’t help but ask, “Did he try to seduce you?”

She laughed and said, “Of course! I’d almost feel insulted if he didn’t. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m immune. I fend off men much more attractive than him all day long at the hospital.”

Allie stood up and took off her robe. She tossed it over her shoulder and said, “I think it’s time for you to stake claim on what’s yours and yours alone, big boy.”

I followed her to the bedroom and did just that. The thought of so many guys coveting what was mine somehow made our lovemaking more intense than ever. As I squeezed her titties, I pictured some faceless guy doing the same. I silently chastised myself for such thoughts, but they persisted. When I slid into her love tunnel, I wondered for the first time if I ever totally pleased her. I knew those thoughts were baseless as she had never once given me reason to doubt her. As we lay in post-coital bliss, I tried to clear my mind of those crazy visions. 

The following week I kept a close eye on Martin when he was around Allie. I noticed his subtle flirting, how he’d touch her arm or elbow when they talked. I didn’t see anything blatantly inappropriate, but he was still flirting with her. Allie didn’t seem bothered. Then, something happened when we went to pick up some wall tile for the shower area; something that would change everything.

“I have a date tonight,” said Martin. “So, if we could be done by five, I would appreciate it.”

My curiosity peaked as I asked, “A date with one of your steady girlfriends?”

He didn’t seem bothered by my initial question, but there was a pause before he replied, “That gets pretty complicated. Are you sure you want to know?”

“I’m sorry. I had no right to pry.”

“I guess this is as good a time as any other to explain. To answer your question, yes, she is a steady girlfriend. I’ve been seeing her for around a year.”

“But you said you have several girlfriends? How exactly does that work?”

“This is where you must promise to keep this confidential,” Martin replied, as we walked to the truck.

“Of course. But like I said, you are not obligated to share anything if it doesn’t pertain to work.”

He looked at me intently. “Right now I have three steady lady friends. They all know I see other women… and so do their husbands.”

I almost choked. “W-what? Their husbands?”

“Have you ever heard the term ‘cuckold’?”

I was shocked by his reply. I vaguely remembered the term but shook my head. “Isn’t that a guy whose wife cheats on him?”

“No. Not even close. There is no cheating. The husband in most cases initiates the whole arrangement. He usually watches or participates in the encounters.”

 “That’s weird. What could the husband possibly get out of it?”

“Good question. I don’t have a definitive answer to that. I think it’s different for each guy, but they seem to enjoy themselves, and so do I. So, now that you know, remember we have a confidentiality agreement.”

“I remember. One more thing… don’t bring this drama to the gym—and Allie is strictly off limits.”

“Of course, ’nuff said.”

***

The following week, I tried not to think about what Martin had shared. I kept my promise and said nothing to Allie about what he told me. Likewise, Martin kept his distance from my wife like he promised. I attempted to clear my thoughts about the whole cuckold thing, but you can’t un-hear what you heard or erase what you already know. I wondered what Martin offered to these couples for them to toss away their marriage vows and invite him intimately into their lives.

It didn’t take long for me to discover one of his best attributes: the giant snake below his hips. I noticed it the first time we used the community shower together. It was almost impossible to ignore what dangled down his thigh. I had heard that big black cocks were a myth, but what I witnessed that day shattered that theory into pieces. I’m not one to stare at another man’s junk, but that thing was truly intimidating. I wouldn’t go so far to call it “penile envy,” but he made my larger than average dick seem like a cocktail weenie.

I tried to look away, but Martin caught me glancing at him. He started stroking it a bit with his soapy hand and gave me a little smirk. Now I knew why he always wore baggy sweatpants. Standard workout shorts couldn’t possibly contain that one-eyed monster. My face must have shown my embarrassment, but he said nothing as I averted my gaze.

During the next several weeks my curiosity about cuckolding led me to research the subject deeper. I found there were websites dedicated solely to this freaky lifestyle. The practice of cuckolding seemed to include a variety of things from just pure fantasy play, to other fetishes like humiliation and bondage. I avoided discussing the subject any further with Martin, but it wasn’t easy to put out of my mind.

As time passed, the gym memberships grew—partly because of Martin’s ultra-popular exercise class and his individual training. We offered him a full-time job with a significant raise. He accepted our offer and quit his volunteer harbor patrol job to work exclusively with us. Martin and I continued our weight training together. With my coaching, his body was balanced enough to enter a competition. For his first tournament, he did surprisingly well at fourth place. His physique was tight enough to place in top three, but his posing was amateurish and sloppy.

We never again discussed his love life. Eventually, I was able to put it mostly to the back of my mind, but occasionally those thoughts would pop up, usually when Allie and I were in the grips of passionate sex, I’d picture myself as Martin. I couldn’t help but mentally compare myself to him, wondering if size really mattered. Of course, I couldn’t share any of those freaky fantasies with Allie. I wondered if this was common among other husbands.

Martin occasionally would have dinner out with us. It was usually a casual business dinner, where we’d discuss things like future expansions. At the time, we were only using half of our industrial space and we discussed the merits of adding a lap pool or racquetball courts. I couldn’t say we were good friends, but we were all friendly and comfortable with each other.

Then, one evening while we were hanging out and having some light conversation, out of nowhere Allie asked, “Martin, did you know that you were in the same high school graduation class as Jason?”

Martin looked at me first and replied, “Yes, I’m aware.”

True to form, he said nothing else. It was clear this was not something he wanted to discuss. His silence seemed to frustrate Allie, and she wouldn’t be denied. I could feel the inevitable torrential downpour of questions building up in her, so before the dam burst, I placed my hand on hers and squeezed it.

She was about to say something when I interrupted her, “It wasn’t a big school, but we ran in different crowds, right, Martin?”

“Yeah… different crowds,” he almost whispered, looking down.

I glared at Allie and used the zip-it motion across my lips, signaling for her to shut up.

“I have to go,” Martin said abruptly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He was gone in a flash.

My wife stared me down and defiantly said, “I don’t appreciate you shutting me up like some schoolgirl.”

“I was just trying to diffuse a potentially uncomfortable situation. Martin is a very private person and you were pushing him past his comfort zone.”

“I think I was doing him a favor by breaking him out of his shell.”

“Doing him a favor? Really, Allie? I think you were just trying to satisfy your curiosity.”

“A guy like him shouldn’t be so elusive.”

“A guy like him? What do you mean?”

“You know… he’s good looking and, well… a sexy guy. He needs to loosen up or he’ll never find a girl,” she said, slurring her words. Allie never could hold her liquor.

“You’re saying he’s sexy?”

“Hell yeah! I’m married, but I’m not blind.”

“What makes you think he doesn’t have a girl?” I asked.

“Well, he never talks about girls, for one, and secondly… do you think he’s gay?”

I laughed and said, “Why would you think that?”

“He never flirts with me,” she replied, trying to gain her balance as she stood.

“So that’s your criteria? If a guy doesn’t hit on you, he’s gay?” I asked, taking her arm and helping her to the car.

“I didn’t say that… in today’s world it’s just…”

“I think I can safely say he’s not into guys. Is that what you want? For him to hit on you?”

She punched my shoulder and said, “Pervert! Of course not.”

***

The next morning, Allie groaned as she sat at the table with her head in her hands. She looked at me with squinted eyes and said, “Oh my God, I think I’m going to die. Why the hell did you let me drink so much?”

“Somehow I knew this would be my fault,” I said, pushing a coffee mug toward her.

“Of course, it is! Isn’t that a husband’s role? Tell the truth, did I make a fool of myself?”

“Truth?”

Allie gasped. “Oh God… I did, didn’t I?”

“It wasn’t your finest hour, sweetie. Get your rest today, I’ve got work at the gym.”

“I’ll be down after I pull this spike out of my head.”

I kissed her on her forehead and headed off to the gym. When I arrived, I found Martin in a heated discussion with a man in the parking lot. From what I could hear, it seemed like he was trying to calm him down. The middle-aged balding guy was about fifty pounds lighter than Martin, so I was sure he didn’t need my help. As I came closer, I could hear bits and pieces of what the man was saying.

“You, asshole… you lied to me! You said it wouldn’t interfere…”

There was something vaguely familiar about him; I just couldn’t place it. I nodded at Martin as I passed and unlocked the entrance. As I turned on the lights, I booted the computer while Martin continued his heated discussion. I was folding towels when he finally came in. He went directly to the office and checked the training schedule. He then came over and said his 7am was canceled and asked if there were any pressing jobs to do.

“What was all that about?” I asked. “That guy seemed pretty pissed.”

“It was nothin—just the hazard of my lifestyle. He’ll get over it.”

“Unhappy husband?”

“Yeah, you might say that. His wife is pushing too hard. I told her she was rushing it and that he isn’t ready yet. Most husbands don’t have a clue what their wives are capable of. They live in a fantasy bubble of their own creation, and when it pops… well, you saw the result out there.”

Realizing that he’d shared more with me in the last ten minutes than he had since I met him, made me wonder why. I decided to drop it but ruminated on his words.

Do husbands really have a clear picture of what their wives are capable of?

We decided to work our upper body that day. My coaching was really paying off for Martin. His definition had much improved, and his massive upper body was more balanced by reducing his almost comical bulky biceps. We continued to work out, making light conversation. Since Sunday was only half-day, I asked Martin to go have a drink with me to celebrate our best month the gym ever had. We took separate showers because I didn’t really want to see his junk again.

***

We met at the Lighthouse bar and grill and ordered a couple light beers. Neither one of us drank very much because alcohol didn’t work into our training regimen. We talked about the remodeling plans at first. I was impressed with his knowledge of construction.

“Can I ask you something personal?” I asked.

“I suppose you’re going to ask no matter what, so ask away.”

“Since you shared about, uh… you know…”

“Cuckolding?”

“Yeah, that… I’ve been doing some research and I can’t figure it out.”

“Whoa, you’re researching cuckolding? That’s usually how it starts.” He chuckled.

“No… I was just thinking…”

“Plant a seed and it grows, but only if it is in fertile soil. I think you’re as fertile as they come. I can tell.”

“You’ve got it wrong. I… I was just curious, that’s all,” I said, feeling flush like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What is it you can’t figure out? It’s really not complicated. I fuck the wives and their husbands get off on me doing it. So… are you thinking about having Allie cuckold you?”

“What? No fucking way! Why would you even say that?”

“Why? There’s only one reason a guy asks about cuckolding, and that’s because he’s fantasizing about doing it but not sure if he wants it to become a reality. Once you cross the threshold and become a cuck, there is no turning back. You can’t change your mind. Taking things from fantasy would be a new beginning for both of you. If you feel ready, then you’ll want to be fully prepared for what is coming.”

How could he know I’ve been fantasizing about it? I felt exposed. All I wanted to do was stop this conversation and run.

Martin seemed to notice my distress and said, “Don’t beat yourself up, Jason. It’s a common fantasy. This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve had this same conversation dozens of times. Just so you know, a very small percentage of guys that have these thoughts ever go through with it.”

“I’m not saying that I actually want this. Besides, Allie would never go for it—she would probably divorce me if I even suggested it. I was just curious, not crazy. Allie is strictly a one-man woman.”

“You might be surprised. Would you like to see if she’s at least receptive to it? Just let me push her parameters a bit. You don’t have to say or do anything. With your permission, I’ll take care of everything. Seduction is a very slow and methodical process. Remember you have total control. You say stop, it’s stopped. Don’t fret, even if she is receptive, you’ll still be in charge.”

I was speechless, sweating profusely. I couldn’t believe I was even discussing this and didn’t know what to say. I was confronted with something I had never even considered before. What was I thinking?

After some thought, I murmured, “Just so we’re clear… if I say no, it’s off?”

“Yep. It stops anytime you want,” Martin replied. “From what I see, Allie loves you very much and probably would never succumb to my advances. In that case, you’ll know she’s yours and yours alone. So, what do you say? Yes or no?”

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt as long as I can stop it. I don’t think I want to actually to go through with it, but I am curious to what her response would be.”

A wide smile appeared on his face. “Okay, I can work with that. The game is on. I think this could be fun for all of us.”

***

As the days passed, I saw nothing new transpire between Martin and Allie—certainly, nothing sexual. However, I did notice a few small things like how they seemed to talk more frequently. One time I saw Allie laughing while she was talking with him. Her laughter seemed a bit too animated to be genuine, though. You know, the kind of laugh a woman gives when she’s flirting. I also noticed she started asking for Martin’s assistance with things that she had previously had me do. But all in all, I saw no major changes from our normal routine.

Then, one evening as we were cleaning up from dinner, Allie said, “We signed a new member today who wanted to join Marty’s workout class. Her profile said she’s married but I was sure I saw Marty kissing her as she left the gym. Isn’t that strange?”

“Marty?” I said, a bit confused. “When did you start calling him that?”

“I’m not sure. I told him that Martin seemed so formal. Anyway, I was asking you about him kissing a married woman. What do you think?”

“I think whomever he kisses is his business, Allie. Why should him kissing someone bother you? You were the one who was concerned about his lack of a girlfriend, remember? Are you jealous?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would you suggest that?”

“I was kidding. I just thought you and Marty seemed kind of chummy lately.”

She grinned and bumped me with her hip while saying, “I think it’s you who’s jealous.”

“Hmmm, do I have anything to be jealous about?” I asked, holding her by the shoulders and looking in her eyes.

“No, there’s nothing. Except, he did ask if we could hold our Friday meeting at the Watering Hole. He said they have a live band on Friday and asked if I liked to dance.”

“It sounds like he’s asking you out on a date.”

She punched my shoulder and said, “Pervert! You’ve got a dirty mind.”

I pulled her toward the bedroom saying, “That’s right, and I’m going to show you just how perverted I can be.”

Allie slipped off her spandex top and tossed it to the side, with her athletic bra following close behind. Once in the bedroom, we attacked each other like combatants. Our sex seemed urgent; foreplay was reserved for another time that was less hurried. Our lust reduced us to two individuals seeking selfish satisfaction. After I yanked her leotards off, I paused to study my prey as she withered on the bed like a cat in heat. The sex that followed was almost primal, lacking our normal tender murmurs or poetic expressions of love. I bit the nape of her neck and she raked my back with her nails. The match was on. I greedily squeezed her hard-extended nipples, pulling them like they were rubber.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted in a low sexy voice.

I responded by flipping her over, roughly pulling her to her knees. There would be no polite missionary position tonight. I unceremoniously jammed my cock into her wet, sloppy cunt. She thrust back in an animalistic manner. Our bodies still moved in unison of well-practiced lovers, but with greater intensity and desperation. Our sex sounded almost violent with the slapping of our skin and drumming of the bed against the wall so hard it sounded like an earthquake.

As we collapsed on the mattress, I started fantasizing about her being with someone else. I just couldn’t shake those thoughts. I felt like I had betrayed my wife.

What is wrong with me? I thought in disgust.

I almost desperately hugged Allie, as if I needed to protect her.

Protect her from what? From Martin? Or protect her from me?

“Wow! What brought that on?” Allie panted.

“I don’t know, but I don’t think my back could survive a second round.”

“And I might not walk straight for a week.” She lamented with a chuckle.

“Allie, I love you,” I murmured.

“You better. You’re stuck with me for life, sexy.”

“Seriously, do you ever regret marrying me when you were so young and inexperienced?”

“Jason, don’t be ridiculous. Why would I regret it? You’re every woman’s fantasy. Most of the women I know have husbands that are couch potatoes and have a nonexistent sex life. You’re a handsome award-winning body builder with an MBA, and a successful business. Just so you know, the real reason girls date many men is to find ‘Mr. Right.’ I was fortunate to find my soulmate early. I don’t regret not dating others.”

***

Another few weeks passed with no apparent change. Even though my secret fetish lingered, I assumed Martin had quit his attempted seduction of my wife. With nothing happening, I had all but forgotten about our agreement. Plus, I was so preoccupied with all the construction going on that everything else seemed secondary. The pool was finally finished, and I was trying to save money by installing the wall tiles myself. Allie and Martin were managing the daily needs of the business, freeing me to overlook the construction crews.

I remember the day I finally finished the last of the grout work. I was sitting on the floor, caked in tile dust and admiring my work when Martin approached. He looked over the completed job and offered a hand to help me up.

“Great work, boss. I think I’ll hire you to do my bath.”

“In your dreams, dick-head,” I replied, giving him a slap on the back.

“Jason, now that this project is done, we need to talk,” he said in a more serious tone.

“About what?”

“Well… about Allie, of course.”

I brushed my hands off and said, “Okay, after I clean this stink off. Allie has class in an hour. How about after she leaves?”

“Sounds good.”

When I finished showering and changed into my gym attire, Martin came in and sat on the locker room bench. He looked slightly nervous.

“So, what’s up?” I asked.

“I thought it was about time we talked about your wife,” he replied, his voice echoing slightly off the locker room walls.

“I was thinking that whole thing was a bust, since you never updated me.”

“A bust? Hardly! Things have progressed to the point that you need to get involved. I won’t attempt to go any further until you talk with her.”

“I’m not understanding. What is it you want me to say?”

“You need to tell her your intentions, Jason.”

“I don’t really know what I want. Are you asking if I want you to cuckold me? I still don’t believe she would ever cheat on me. She’d probably kick my ass to the curb if she knew I was even considering this.”

“First of all, cuckolding is not cheating; it is a shared experience between a husband and wife, in total honesty. If you desire for this to happen, you need to tell her exactly what it is you want. If you don’t, it stops here. I won’t be part of promoting adultery, especially when the people involved are my friends.”

“I understand, but again… I’m not sure what I want, to tell the truth. You said things have progressed… in what ways?”

He thought for a while, as if he were gathering his thoughts before saying, “Let me explain some things first. Cuckolding usually is instigated by the husband, and the wife is usually apprehensive at first. Most wives typically think that their husband just wants an excuse to be with other women.”

“I have no intention of ever being with another woman. Why do you think Allie is ready at this point? I’ve seen nothing to indicate that.”

“There are generally three stages in the seduction of the wife. Stage one is finding out if she is even receptive to the idea.”

“And you believe Allie is receptive?”

“Oh, yes, I absolutely believe she is! Were you even aware of how much your wife craves the attention of men? I think she’s addicted to attention like food or drink.”

“I never thought about it before, but she tells me she is constantly hit on at the hospital,” I replied.

“Stage one also includes how she responds to flirting… and Allie loves to flirt—but you know that. I consider earnest flirting part of foreplay, like I’m sure she does with you when she’s signaling being in the mood.”

“I’m not feeling good about this. You’re saying Allie is at stage one?”

“She was… about a month ago, but now she’s way past that,” Martin replied matter-of-factly.

It felt strange talking to a man that was systematically trying to seduce my wife with my permission. I was struggling with all of this and my feelings of guilt. Martin assured me that all he did was expose weaknesses that were already there within her. Then he told me by my instigating this, all I did was accelerate what would inevitably happen with or without him. He went on to say this process probably saved my marriage.

“That sounds pretty damn benevolent of you,” I sarcastically stated. “You get to fuck my wife and it saves my marriage?”

Martin laughed. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t mind seeing if I could fit it in her, I’m just saying she’s very ripe for the plucking. What I’m telling you might just help you prevent a future disaster. I’m just providing you with the facts. It’s up to you what you do with them.”

“I’m not saying I believe this about Allie, but I’m curious about what happened that brought you to this conclusion.”

“I can give you the details. You must remember that you asked for this. What I’m about to say is going to be hard for you to hear. Do you want me to continue?”

“That sounds ominous… but go ahead.”

“I’ll start by saying that Allie loves you more than any woman I ever met loves her husband, and that fact alone should soften anything else I’ve got to share.”

“I’m listening.”

“Like I already said, we’ve been getting to know each other better and she trusts me enough to confide personal details about her life to me, even intimate things about your marriage.”

“Like what?”

“I promised her I wouldn’t tell you, but to be fair, I didn’t tell her what you’ve told me about her, either.”

“Okay. What else is there?”

“About three weeks ago, she started being more animated when we talked, casually touching me—nothing sexual at first. She’d just put her hand on my arm while we were talking for emphasis. Then about two weeks ago, she volunteered to put some oil on me when I was working on my posing for the upcoming competition. That’s the first time I’ve ever had anybody oil me. Does she usually do that for you?”

“Hmmm, not really, I usually have it sprayed on, along with a tanning pigment. It doesn’t appear that you need to tan.” I laughed.

“Well, she took her time and her touch was more like a caress. She must have seen my reaction when my shorts tented significantly.”

I was suddenly getting jealous and it must have shown because Martin said, “We can stop here if you like, okay?”

“There’s more?” I asked pensively.

“Yeah. There’s more. A lot more.”

“Tell me everything and don’t hold back.”

“All right, boss… but remember, this was your idea. Last thing I want to do is hurt you.” He paused for a moment and said, “About two weeks ago, Allie came to me with a slight limp and asked if I would rub out the charlie-horse in her upper thigh. When I started rubbing her, I didn’t find any knot, but she asked me to continue, so I decided to use the opportunity to push the parameters a bit. She gave me a soft moan of approval as I massaged her upper thigh. Then, when I inched my way up on her mound, she didn’t ask me to stop. In fact, her response was to open her legs, giving me greater access.”

“Damn! What then?”

“I immediately looked around to see if anyone was watching. It felt too risky and I decided to stop. I can honestly say if we weren’t in the gym, I would have fucked her right then.”

“Damn! What else?”

“There’s more… Later that day, she came to me and apologized for embarrassing me. I assured her it didn’t embarrass me in the least, and that it actually made my day, if not my year.”

“Well, this didn’t make my day.” I scowled.

“Are you aware one of my lady friends has joined the gym?”

“Yeah, Allie mentioned it.”

 “Well, she and I were in the jacuzzi, playing around when Allie came in wearing a skimpy bikini. Karen had her arm around me, with her hand in my trunks. When I glanced at Allie, she had a look of jealousy with dagger eyes that couldn’t be missed. To break the tension, I casually introduced them. Allie snidely mentioned what a beautiful wedding ring Karen was wearing. Then, when Allie asked her how she knew me, Karen told her it was none of her business… but also added that I was hers every Tuesday… and this incident happened on a Tuesday.”

“What did you do?”

“I’m admittedly very bad at dealing with confrontation. Avoiding a cat fight, I got up to leave. Karen reached out to stop me and accidentally yanked my swimsuit down, exposing my privates. Allie’s eyes were locked on me like lasers as I quickly pulled up my trunks. I grabbed my towel and retreated into the men’s shower, leaving them alone.”

“Fuck!” I said in disbelief. “I wonder why Allie hasn’t said a word to me about that incident?”

“Don’t feel alone. She hasn’t said a word to me in over a week, either. I think it’s better to let her work this out on her own. The real question is, what do you want, Jason? I’m pretty sure Allie already made her decision. If you decide to go forward with this, you’ll be in for the ride of your life.”

“I’m conflicted.” I exhaled deeply. “One part of me screams no, and the other part says yes. I need to talk with her first. Nothing is more important to me than Allie.”