A loud splash coming from the pool broke my concentration. I looked up from my book, blinking as the bright sunshine fought its way through my sunglasses.

I smiled; two teenage boys were skylarking in the clear, warm water, both showing-off, each trying to appear older, stronger and more grown-up than the other. It had been the same the previous day, and the day before that, and the reason was obvious; my lovely wife Alice was sunbathing topless on the patio again.

A brief flush of pride passed through me as I looked at the slim, athletic, figure stretched full length on the clean white sunbed, bare-breasted and wearing one of the tiniest pairs of red bikini panties I had ever seen.

As I watched, she slowly raised her slender, toned arms up over her head, tightening the muscles of her tummy and stretching her bony chest until her tiny breasts had all but disappeared, the absence of tan lines blending them smoothly into the bony curves of her body.

My wife’s tiny breasts had actually grown smaller as she had become slimmer and fitter, though with her long, slender legs and shoulder-length blonde hair, she still had a figure to admire and lust over, as our two teenage friends had discovered, much to my amusement.

I watched their display of bravado surreptitiously and wondered how the boys would react if they knew they were being turned on by a woman old enough to be their mother. I chuckled to myself then tried to imagine what else they might think and perhaps even do if they knew the object of their desire was not perhaps as far out of reach as they might imagine.

Alice’s little display was probably at least in part for their benefit, if only subconsciously. The idea brought a thrill to my spine and a hardness within my swimming shorts that I had to lower my book to conceal.

It was the last full day of our last-minute half-term holiday in Spain. The kids were taking part in one of the supervised activities run by the nearby ‘fun club’ which gave Alice and me some time to relax.

It had been a great week, made all the better because it had been so unexpected.

And it had all started only two Saturdays before.

***

It was Saturday morning, two weeks before half term began. Carmen was due to call at our house shortly to see Alice and, I expected, to have a girly chat while I took the kids to their normal weekend activities and her husband Steve played golf.

Carmen was now as she put it, ‘great with child’, so the girls always had a lot to talk about. Her baby bump was becoming very obvious and the effect it was having was predictably profound; the woman simply exuded sex.

There had always been an aura of sexuality around this fiery, dark-haired gipsy of a woman, but now that her belly was swollen, it had reached new heights. Her nearly black hair was bright and glossy, her eyes sparkled permanently with mischief, her skin glowed with health and her posture cried out for male attention.

It usually got it too, especially in the short, close-fitting maternity dresses that she now routinely wore.

Steve was simply over the moon about the prospect of becoming a father, albeit rather later in life than most of their friends. For me, this was wonderful to see, and for the first time, I was able to have real, deep conversations with him about something on which I was the relative expert.

This had brought a better balance to our relationship that made life both easier and happier.

Steve, of course, was the man who had first seduced Alice in front of me over a year ago and started us on the journey that had made my wife a slut, me a willing cuckold and brought us both so much pleasure and pain.

Since then the scheming of Carmen, his she-devil of a wife, had brought about our further downfall and despite her current pregnancy, I was convinced she had our further degradation well planned.

The most recent example of this was the night my wife and our mutual friend Julie – another of Steve’s married conquests - had recently spent pretending to be prostitutes.

The idea had been that two of Carmen’s London friends, strangers to the two wives, would pick them up in a bar as if they were clients. The girls had taken their supposed punters to a nearby hotel bedroom where they had been paid like whores, then fucked as hard as their clients desired and in whatever way they wanted.

Alice had been rewarded with a wonderful, satisfying evening of good sex with a new, unfamiliar and exciting partner. Julie’s evening had been equally satisfying at first, but then we had discovered that her pretend client had actually been a real one, and that she had indeed whored herself out for the cash she had received.

To our amazement, though shocked at first, not only had Julie not been horrified by this mistake, it seemed to have heightened her enjoyment of the whole event.

Worse still, she had been so aroused by the experience that she had already met the man again and had once again been paid for indulging his darkest desires, knowing full well that she was prostituting herself. This second whoring had gone so well that Julie had announced she was going to sign up with an escort agency and begin sex work professionally.

Worst of all, the obvious delight Julie was enjoying from her descent into prostitution was making my own wife green-eyed with envy in a way I had seldom seen before. I knew the two girls had discussed it many times and, although I had no reason to believe Alice had actually taken any more steps down that road, she was most definitely attracted by the idea.

Of course, she had denied it every time the subject had come up, but we had been married far too long for me not to read the powerful messages her body was projecting. I was beginning to have serious concerns about the amount of time the two girls and the she-devil Carmen were spending together, and the secrets they were so obviously sharing.

So, it was with some trepidation that I left Carmen and my beautiful but regularly unfaithful wife seated on the patio, chatting. As it was nearly lunchtime, they had a glass of wine each – the one glass Carmen allowed herself despite her pregnancy - and of course, had become a bit giggly.

Whenever the two of them got together like this, it seemed that I was usually the source of their amusement, so I made myself scarce with my own Saturday chores and activities. I was pleased when the time finally came to collect our two sweaty, tired, ravenous kids from their Saturday sports.

When I returned, Carmen had gone home, and the wine bottle was nearly empty. Alice was definitely a little tiddly but was also beaming with pleasure.

“How would you like a Spanish holiday at half term?” she asked brightly.

“This half term?” I replied. “In two weeks’ time?”

“Yes. Carmen’s offered us their apartment. Steve’s got to work half the week and she doesn’t want to go on her own, so they’re having a long weekend with her parents.”

“Sounds great, but can we get flights at such short notice? And can we afford them?”

“They’re free, well nearly free. At least for two of us. Carmen had already booked for her and Steve. All we need to do is change the names and see if we can get two last-minute seats for the kids.”

“Can you get time off at short notice?”

“I think so. I’ve covered for other people’s holidays enough times. Could you?”

I thought for a moment.

“I expect I could. It’s a bit quiet now anyway.”

“And you like the idea?”

“I love it. Let’s do it!”

“Great! I’ll get on the net now.”

“Alice! About Julie’s idea…”

She paused in her excitement.

“Can we talk it through on holiday?”

“Can Julie wait that long? Can her client?”

“I’ll call her back and let her know.”

***

Half an hour later when the kids had scraped most of the mud off their knees, I was putting my tools away in the garage when I heard Alice’s voice behind me.

“All done! We leave on Sunday, two weeks from tomorrow.”

“For a whole week?”

“A whole week. We fly back the following Sunday afternoon. It’s a late flight so we even get an extra few hours on the Sunday morning.”

I kissed her on the forehead.

“Well done. We could do with a break.”

She beamed and turned to go back into the kitchen when a thought occurred to me.

“Are you sure Carmen isn’t up to her tricks? You remember what happened last time!” I asked suspiciously.

Alice laughed.

“Well you can never be sure with Carmen, but if she’s not there with us, what harm can she do?”

“I suppose so,” I replied unconvinced.

Alice laughed out loud.

“Don’t be so suspicious! Anyway, it’s not as if we don’t both enjoy the little traps she sets for us, is it? I know I’ve enjoyed them, and I don’t recall any complaints from you in the end!”

I grinned sheepishly. Our journey into cuckoldry had indeed been a wonderful adventure and Carmen had been responsible for it all.

“And sometimes Cucky-boy gets an extra treat too, does he not?” My unfaithful wife added.

She winked and went back into the house. I returned to my work with a warm glow in my tummy.

***

The next two weeks passed quickly enough. Business was surprisingly brisk and of course, I had to get ahead of plan to allow for the unexpected week off, but it was definitely worth it. Alice was extremely busy too, but the prospect of a week in the sun was more than enough to keep her good-humoured until we had the chance to spend time together.

Whatever my suspicions about Carmen, I was really looking forward to a week away, though I expected the apartment to bring back more than a few memories back when we arrived.

Although the kids hadn’t been with us on our only previous visit, I knew there was a great ‘Kids Club’ on the complex where our two offspring could spend time playing sport and games with other children their age. Confident and outgoing, they would both relish this, and it would give their mother and me some peace.

That’s not to say that I didn’t have some reservations about the trip; reservations which tore my heart and head in different directions.

On our last visit, the She-Devil, Carmen had deliberately and deviously tricked and manipulated first Alice then me in such a way that my wife’s eventual seduction and subsequent comprehensive fucking by a young man called Mitch was inevitable.

Mitch was a young Olympic-standard swimmer, whose separated parents owned a property close by. Not much older than her two current teenage admirers, he had been smitten by my wife at an early stage of our visit, despite having a girlfriend of his own at home.

Carmen had seen this and had mercilessly plotted to bring the two of them together.

Her plan eventually resulted in Alice spending the entire night with her new lover – the first man to fuck her since her original seduction by Steve - and moving us one big step further along our journey into cuckoldry.

As well as watching her rather easy seduction and listening to the long night of copulation that followed, I had unexpectedly been called on to bring a newly pregnant and hopelessly aroused Carmen to orgasm with my mouth and tongue alone. It hadn’t even crossed my mind to try and fuck her in return which it seemed, endeared me to her even more.

Though I say it myself, my oral efforts had been spectacularly successful; I will never forget how it felt to have that strong, confident woman reaching orgasm after noisy orgasm, her vulva pressed hard against my lips, teeth and tongue, her body in spasm around my head.

Since then, whatever my reputation as a confirmed cuckold might be, Carmen had been impressed enough to make sure that my oral skills were known in the right places. Compared with Steve and Mitch, my reputation as a cocksman was deservedly poor, but I was pleased to have a skill my wife could be proud of in the way I felt perversely proud of her new-found ability as a lover.

As the time to leave for Spain approached, Alice became much more relaxed, even amorous at times which had been a very pleasant experience indeed. We had a wonderfully romantic dinner together in our favourite Italian restaurant the night before we flew out.

The fact that this was the restaurant in which the first important step in our descent into our current lifestyle had taken place, had added a strong sexual frisson to a very pleasant evening. It had been impossible not to remember the day Carmen had tricked me into watching her husband begin his seduction of my wife. The day we stopped being simply a couple who had made fools of ourselves one drunken evening with friends, and had started the journey into cuckoldry on which we were now fully embarked.

Alice and I made love slowly and lingeringly that night after dinner, dispensing with condoms for the first time in many weeks. She hadn’t reached orgasm during penetration despite all our joint efforts, and I had had to fall back on my oral skills on her rather messy vulva to bring her to completion.

But it had worked, and as she came quickly and passionately above my head, for the first time in months. Instead of disposing of a full condom, I got to taste my own semen mixed with my wife’s juices directly from the source.

It was simply wonderful.

***

All that had been nearly a week ago. Now, with only one full day of holiday to go, I could reflect contentedly that the break had indeed been as pleasant and relaxing as we had hoped, with plenty of good food and just enough exercise to take away the guilt of eating so much.

The weather had been unseasonably warm too, which after the dreary weather at home had been a great uplift to our spirits. The kids had been tolerable too. They had squabbled a lot on the plane, but to our relief had been simply delighted when they found all that the ‘Kids Club’ had to offer. We had seen them at breakfast and dinner time every day, but for most of the rest of the week, they had been off playing and adventuring with their new friends.

This had left Alice and me with plenty of time to be a couple again. We had used it to the full, walking along the coastal path together, playing tennis, swimming in the clear blue pool and body surfing in the warm sea.

The sun had been kind too; warm enough to sunbathe, but not too hot for sports or to risk burning.

I have to confess to a certain initial apprehension; a rumbling in my tummy and tightness in my chest when we arrived and the memories of all that had happened during our last visit flooded in on me. I believe Alice felt something similar because, as we approached the bougainvillaea framed front door, I felt her take my hand and squeeze it tightly. I looked at her sweet, smiling face and raised an eyebrow.

‘I love you,’ she mouthed silently as the kids pushed past us and began to explore the apartment.

It’s amazing what the human mind can consider ‘normal.’ Within an hour, the business of unpacking and getting lunch together had driven almost all of the apartment’s horrors from my mind. I did have one or two few flashbacks, especially when I heard Alice call me from the bedroom – the memories of her voice raised in orgasmic squeals coming from the same room stunned me for a moment – but by dinner time we were happy and settled.

The kids were not happy at having to share a room, but eventually agreed that sharing was better than no holiday at all and we moved on.

We took them to the Kids Club on Monday after breakfast and, after spending the morning relaxing by the pool, caught an afternoon taxi into town to buy food for dinner and do a little shopping.

Alice had announced over lunch that she really hadn’t brought the right kind of clothes for this kind of sun, so a visit to one of the many boutiques in the nearby marina was essential. While I worked my way aisle-by-aisle around the supermarket, Alice hopped from shop to shop until we met up an hour and a half later in a small bar overlooking the boats.

“Did you find what you needed?” I asked, sipping an ice-cold beer and observing the small pile of bags alongside her chair as she sipped a long gin and tonic.

“Wait and see,” she teased. “But don’t worry; it’s the sale season. I haven’t broken the bank!”

We returned to the apartment, laden with our purchases and with an hour to go before the kids were due to return. Within two minutes we were out in the sunshine, rubbing sun cream into each other’s less accessible places and relaxing in the welcome warmth.

I unfastened Alice’s bikini top as she lay face down on the sunbed to make sure I had covered all her long, slender back. My well-oiled hands ran smoothly up and down her smooth skin, feeling her athletic, toned body inch by inch.

Once again, I was amazed at how stunningly attractive my wife was. She had always been a pretty woman, but since we had discovered our new lifestyle and Alice had discovered how good other men’s cocks could feel, her natural attractiveness had acquired a powerful sexual element that made her simply stunning.

Normally she acted as if completely unaware of the effect she was having on the men around her, but this holiday, there was something different about her, as if she was playing just a little to her gallery of admirers.

At times she seemed to be almost flaunting herself, which was not like the usual Alice at all.

Her new bikini was just the latest part of this; I had never seen such a tiny piece of clothing in my life. My lovely wife’s breasts have never been large, even when feeding our two children but her new blue bikini top barely covered her nipples let alone the tiny globes on which they stood, rather erect. The bikini bottoms were almost a thong too, with a tiny patch at the front which would certainly not have covered all her pubic hair.

But then my wife’s golden triangle had disappeared some time ago.

Fortunately, Alice’s toned body was well worth the grandstand view that this ridiculous item of clothing afforded. A feeling of pride joined the undercurrent of jealousy that had started as soon as we had arrived in the resort.

It took less than an hour on the secluded patio on our first day before her new bikini top became redundant and was dispensed with. By Wednesday, all remaining shyness had gone, and she was sunbathing topless by the pool in front of the other holidaymakers.

Topless sunbathing wasn’t unheard of on the development and wasn’t officially prohibited but it certainly caused a few eyebrows to be raised. If her breasts had been anything but tiny, there might have been complaints, but there were none. I was amused to see one or two of the other female sunbathers follow suit an hour or so later, much to the delight of the teenage boys who by now were permanent fixtures by the pool, even though the breasts on display belonged to women twice their age.

In tandem with her daily public exposure, Alice was all but insatiable in bed throughout the week too, making demands on my body and stamina that it hadn’t had to fulfil since our early days together. Exciting sex every night after dinner was a given, but with the kids occupied all day in the resort’s Holiday Club, morning or afternoon top-ups were not uncommon.

Though sore and at times exhausted, having my sweet, unfaithful wife’s undivided attention in bed was nothing short of a delight, especially as it gave me an opportunity to experience all she had learned from her lovers for myself.

Although she still insisted we used the ribbed and studded condoms that brought her greatest pleasure, by the time Friday, our last full day arrived, for me the week had passed in exhausted sexual bliss.

I have to say, I was in no hurry to get home. The idea of exchanging the bright sun, the warm water and my almost unrecognisable sex life for the dull, grey, rainy British climate and a clear second place in the queue for my wife’s sexual affections was seriously unappealing.

Determined to make the most of our remaining hours at the resort, Alice had been topless by the pool since breakfast. I had joined her from time to time, keeping her hydrated through the provision of a variety of cool drinks.

It was as I was crossing the apartment’s patio on such an errand that I noticed a tall, athletically built, deeply tanned man in his late forties or early fifties. He was carrying a kitbag and walking around the pool, watching the swimmers and apparently looking for someone or something.

His gaze kept coming back to the patio and the side of the pool where Alice was sunbathing topless. He seemed to be staring at her and for a moment I felt an unaccustomed flash of jealous outrage.

Mister Cuckold feeling jealous? Surely not!

I began to move automatically towards him to remonstrate but then my wife rose from her sunbed and, still topless, dived into the pool, not coming up for air until she had reached the far end.

The man’s gaze was still on the patio and the apartment. A wave of relief washed over me. I had just been saved from severe embarrassment; he hadn’t been staring at Alice at all but as I looked at my lovely wife, it was clear that the lack of interest was not reciprocated.

Alice was surreptitiously watching the new arrival carefully, taking care to keep her blonde hair away from her face and only using her most graceful swimming strokes.

What had got into her this holiday? I had never seen her act like this before; quite the opposite in fact. Normally my wife was the picture of demure correctness – until the right man pressed the right button of course - but even then, at least an element of seduction had always been needed!

Now she appeared to be showing off to this newcomer every bit as brazenly as her teenage admirers had been doing to her all week.

I shrugged and, pleased to have avoided making a fool of myself, remembered my original errand and returned to the apartment to get myself a cold beer and a Diet Coke for Alice. The kitchen was cool, and I shivered as I opened the fridge wearing just my swim shorts.

As I closed the door with my foot and headed towards the patio and poolside, I heard what sounded like a knock on the apartment’s front door. Who could be calling on us now? I must have misheard. I waited a few seconds and was about to go out through the patio doors when there was another knock followed by a ring on the doorbell.

Puzzled, I put down the drinks, pulled on a T-shirt for decency’s sake and opened the door, puzzled.

“Hi. I’m Marcus?”

The big man we had seen earlier was standing on the threshold, his kitbag by his side. He was smiling awkwardly, and his rich deep voice rose at the end of his sentence as if asking a question.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled in classic British embarrassment. “Were we expecting you?”

I knew a lot of scams took place against tourists in Spain and was wary, but he just smiled and carried on.

“I’m a friend of Carmen. You do know Carmen?”

I smiled.

“Oh yes! We know Carmen.”

“I can see you do,” he laughed. “She’s a bit of a handful, isn’t she? I’m Team Doctor for the swimming squad. We’re doing open water training in the bay all next week. Carmen said I could stay here overnight. Um… I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”

There was a voice behind me, and I heard footsteps approaching from the patio.

“Who was it at the door? Are the kids okay... Oh!”

My wife gasped audibly as she entered the hallway and came face to face with our visitor. One hand flew to her naked breasts, the other to her groin in a useless attempt to protect her modesty – a bizarre action indeed, given she had been sunbathing topless in her microscopic bikini all week.

“Excuse me!” she gulped and disappeared into the bedroom.

When I turned back to Marcus, his eyes were fixed on her slender, departing figure.

“My wife Alice,” I explained, introducing myself too. “We weren’t expecting any visitors.”

“So THAT’s Alice!” he smiled, a chuckle in his voice. “Our mutual friend talks about the two of you a lot.”

This unnerved me. What if the she-devil wasn’t as discreet as she had assured us? My tummy filled with butterflies as the possibilities ran quickly through my mind. But Marcus was still talking.

“I’m supposed to be staying here until next Saturday,” he said, embarrassed.

“Well, we’re going home tomorrow afternoon,” I told him. “I suppose Carmen got mixed up over which of us was coming on Saturday and which on Sunday. We’ve got an overlap.”

He laughed.

“She’s normally a much better planner than that. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

He turned to leave.

“Just a minute!” I said, “Come in and have a drink while we sort this out.”

He smiled broadly and a short while later we were sitting on the patio, cold beers in hand, Marcus on the phone to Carmen.

I pretended to be reading the newspaper but out of the corner of my eye, I was studying our new acquaintance carefully. Well over six feet tall, the lines on his face, though still very handsome, suggested he was around fifty years old. His darkly tanned head was shaved so no grey hairs could be seen to confirm this.

But whatever his age, beneath his tight polo shirt lurked the well-trained body of a former athlete. His legs were thick and strong in his chinos, but what struck me most was the near perfection of his smooth, olive coloured skin.

He clearly spent a great deal of time in the Mediterranean sun; a sun that seemed to love him.

“But I don’t want to get in the way...” he was saying into the phone. “Not on their last evening. It wouldn’t be fair...”

I could hear a muffled female voice on the other end of the line.

“Well yes I could offer,” he replied. “No, that’s a good idea.”

“Yes, I do blame you, Carmen,” he laughed, “I’m sure you did mean well but…Ok. Yes, I will. Thanks, C.”

He turned to me and offered me his phone.

“Carmen wants to talk to you. She says she has some grovelling to do!”

I took a long swing of beer, smiled and took the phone.

“Hi, Mister Cuckold,” she began. “I’ve really messed up, haven’t I? I’m sorry – I thought you two were leaving today and Marcus was arriving tomorrow. I must have got it the wrong way round.”

“It looks like it,” I grinned. “What shall we do about it?”

“Well, I hope you two – you four – will do me a big favour. As it’s only for one night, will you let Marcus sleep on the couch in the lounge? It’s big enough to lie on – but then you know that already.”

Her voice filled with familiar innuendo and for a moment I remembered watching my wife being seduced by Mitch on that very couch. Given that we had been presented with a nearly-free holiday it seemed unreasonable to do anything but agree.

“He’ll babysit the kids tonight if you like, so the two of you can have a last romantic meal together,” she carried on, sweetening the proposal. “He’s really good with kids.”

“I’ll have to ask Alice,” I told her.

“Ask Alice what?”

The voice behind me made me spin round to see where the sound came from. My lovely wife had just stepped through the large glass patio door and was standing near to the table at which Marcus and I sat. I smiled and handed her the phone.

“It’s Carmen. There’s been a mix-up,” I smiled broadly. “Have a quick word.”

Alice took the phone and crossed to the far side of the terrace as she spoke to her friend. I watched, amused. Following the first shock of finding a strange and attractive man in the apartment and being next-to-naked in his presence, I had expected her to put on something more modest.

This she had certainly done; she now wore the microscopic bikini top that matched the minuscule bikini bottoms she had already been wearing, but she had also donned a pale yellow, diaphanous kimono that nodded in the direction of modestly but in fact left little to the imagination.

She had also clearly brushed her hair and pulled it back into a neat ponytail. And had she put on a little eye make-up and lipstick too?

“Of course, you’re welcome to stay,” she beamed as she returned to the table, sitting daintily down between the two men and crossing her long, slender legs.

I saw Marcus’ eyes widen for a second, then apparently aware of the impropriety, he looked pointedly away.

“I’d be pleased to babysit too,” he said to me and once again I was amazed at the low, syrupy sound of his deep voice. “If you want a last night meal together.”

“We’d rather eat as a family,” I said, looking towards Alice who nodded.

“And you’re welcome to join us,” she added. “It’s always nice to meet Carmen’s friends.”

She shot me a meaningful glance. Our eyes met and I raised my eyebrows; the last time we had met Carmen’s friends, my wife had been pretending to be a prostitute. Alice smiled then spoke to Marcus, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“The kids are out. If you’d like to get changed, their room’s free. You must be hot after the journey. How about a swim?”

Marcus beamed as Alice showed him and his kit bag into the kids’ room. When she returned to the patio, her face was a little flushed and she was behaving awkwardly like a smitten schoolgirl.

“Have you ever heard Carmen mention Marcus before?” I asked when she had poured herself another Diet Coke and taken a long sip.

“Only in passing,” she replied. “I think she’s mostly friends with his wife.”

“He’s very good-looking,” I said, deliberately taunting her.

“He told me he’s been the GB swimming team doctor for three years. It seems Carmen first met Mitch through him before they bought this place. They found it through Mitch’s Dad. Small world!”

Given Mitch had been my wife’s second lover, it was a smaller world than I could accept without suspicion. But I had nothing to reproach my wife about – yet.

We went outside to the pool and swam a few lengths together, then returned to our sun loungers. I was amused to see that Alice kept her bikini top on this time, but made sure that her bed was both in full sun and best placed to display her semi-naked body.

When Marcus emerged from the apartment a few minutes later I did a double-take. Wearing tight-fitting white swim shorts his evenly tanned, olive skin and incredible athletic body were displayed at their very best. The man was a solid slab of well-toned, well-defined, muscle from the slightly over-developed shoulders most swimmers acquire across his powerful chest to his slim firm buttocks and down his muscular thighs.

The bulge in his shorts was impressive too, even by Mitch’s standards and I tried hard not to stare at it as he walked past us to the pool.

I could feel my wife’s body go tense alongside me as Marcus brushed past her, smiling and dived into the cool water leaving hardly a ripple on the surface. He then ploughed up and down the pool for nearly half an hour, taking half the number of strokes I had needed, his massive shoulders dipping in and out of the water with every powerful pull.

I suspected that Alice’s eyes were even more fixed on the action in the pool than mine, but of course, with her large dark sunglasses, I couldn’t be sure. What was clear was that her poise and bearing had changed dramatically, especially when, his swimming done, Marcus lay his glistening body close by her on another sunbed.

Just after six o’clock, the kids returned from their Kids Club activities, full of excitement and over-heated. A calming, cleansing swim was proposed and happily accepted.

Almost immediately I could tell that Carmen was right; Marcus was definitely good with kids.

Once our two had got over their initial shyness and, after a few minutes in the pool, had felt less intimidated by his powerful body, they threw themselves wholeheartedly into boisterous games with their new playmate.

Starting slowly with a little ‘accidental;’ splashing, the game quickly developed until they were being thrown bodily out of and across the water by this amazingly strong man, squealing with gleeful delight, the sounds of childish enjoyment and gallons of moving water echoing around the development.

I looked across at Alice who was watching the performance with interest, relaxed enough to have discarded her bikini top once again. As she stretched out and her tiny breasts became almost invisible, I noticed that, despite the warm early-evening sun, her nipples had become hard, dark and erect and that she was continually fidgeting on the sunbed.

Her legs were parted a little more than usual too, as she watched the water cascade off Marcus’ olive skin, the dampness making it glisten in the sunlight and highlight his toned physique even more clearly.

There was a dark, damp patch on the tiny blue triangle of my wife’s microscopic bikini bottoms that was nothing to do with sweat or the pool.

He had barely been there an hour. My God, Alice was easy to arouse this week! What had got into her?

The admiration appeared to have become mutual. Despite all the boisterous playing going on in the pool, every few minutes Marcus would look across to where Alice was lying. Sometimes she would be lying on her back, her eyes closed, her pimple-sized breasts pointing skywards, soaking up the sun. Other times she would be lying face down, her skinny legs and buttocks bronzing, her head raised to watch the activities in the water.

On those occasions, the eye contact between them filled my stomach with butterflies and caused my cock to harder in my swim shorts.

The fun in the pool and the silent flirting carried on most of the afternoon until pruned fingers and fear of burning required me to bring the kids into the cool of the terrace for a break.

“Shall I book a table for tonight?” I asked as all five of us sat in the shade in our swimsuits, sipping cool drinks; Coke for the kids, chilled wine and beer for the adults. I looked at Alice who had pulled her bikini top back on for decency. “Marcus has offered to babysit while we have a romantic last night dinner. Table for two at nine?”

The look of disappointment on my wife’s pretty face told me all I needed to know.

“Wouldn’t it be nicer if we booked an early table and all five of us ate together?” she suggested, much to the kids’ delight.

I noticed she tried hard not to shoot a glance at Marcus afterwards, but failed.

“I don’t want to barge in on your family’s last night,” Marcus sounded genuinely concerned.

“You aren’t,” Alice patted his hand, her eyes sparkling. “We’d love to have you with us, right kids?”

The idea was greeted with delight by his young, new best friends. So, the decision was made; a table for five at seven o’clock was duly booked and all of us returned to our reading, playing or in my case, simply observing a developing situation.

***

“What’s got into you?” I asked, handing my wife a glass of chilled white wine.

Alice was sitting at the dresser in our bedroom, braless and in her panties, carefully applying the minimal make-up she habitually wore. Well, perhaps applying a little more than usual this evening. Her eyes, in particular, were looking larger, darker and very alluring.

Behind her hung the short, tight red dress that had featured so often in her recent encounters with other men, along with the high red heels that stood side by side beneath its hem. She had bathed for a long time too, carefully shaving her arms, legs and vulva.

Consciously or not, she was dressing to seduce.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied. “I’m just trying to look my best for you on our last night.”

I smiled knowingly.

“I know you take fancies to men easily these days, but you’re really quick off the mark today. He’s only been here a few hours.”

She ignored my comment.

“You’ve been on heat most of the week,” I added.

“Don’t be crude,” Alice chided, then sighed. “I suppose I have felt a bit… odd this holiday.”

If ‘feeling a bit odd’ meant needing to have sex at least once and often twice every day, then she was right. My own soreness was proof enough of that.

“And Marcus is a very good-looking guy,” I said as casually as I could. “He’s great with the kids too.”

“I suppose he is,” Alice said entirely unconvincingly. “It must be all that swim training. They do seem to like him though.”

‘And not just the kids’ I added silently, checking myself in the full-length mirror as she began to dry her hair, the noise making any further conversation impossible.

Satisfied with my own appearance, I went to check on the kids. Our son was apparently planning to go to dinner in the same sweaty clothes he had worn all day. I advised him that this was not acceptable at which point he went sulkily into the bathroom and began to take a shower.

Our daughter on the other hand had clearly taken a leaf from her mother’s book and decided to look her very best for our new friend. The sundress she had chosen was almost as short as her mother's. To be frank, her breasts weren’t significantly smaller than Alice’s and dressed to kill, she looked considerably older than her years. This would have unsettled me even more, had she not applied her make-up clumsily and donned a completely unnecessary bra, the straps of which were clearly visible through her tight dress.

“You’d better ask Mummy to help you finish your face,” I smiled, patting her on the head, much to her annoyance.

As she left the room, I couldn’t help wondering whether my wife or my daughter was more smitten with Marcus.

And what might be the consequences of finding out?

***

The walk to the bar and restaurant was short and we arrived in plenty of time. I have to say Marcus looked very attractive, his tanned skin contrasting so well with the fitted, white collared shirt that he wore, along with dark trousers that highlighted the powerful muscles of his thighs.

I was a little concerned that I would have to break up a fight between my wife and my daughter as to which of them would take his arm. In the end, of course, there was no competition; Alice gave way to the younger generation. Our pretty young daughter almost floated along the path, her slender, pale fingers in Marcus’ huge hand.

At dinner, the only way to bring peace to the table was to place him between the two girls, with me and my son sitting opposite around a circular table.

For the first half-hour, the talk was all about the food – which was good but not excellent – the wine, which was better and the fun that had taken place in the pool. The atmosphere was light and cheerful, but I could see a sexual frisson building between Marcus and Alice despite our daughter’s attempts to get all of his attention to herself.

To be fair, I have to say that, if I had been a girl, I would probably have fallen head over heels for him too. Apart from his impressive physique and tanned skin, he had a disarming, self-deprecating charm that appealed even to me. I could well see why my daughter spent the entire time giving him doe-eyed looks while my son clearly wanted to emulate him, if his newly acquired bearing was anything to judge by.

He even made sure I was not excluded from the conversation, telling me about the international swimming trials and successes he had before moving into coaching, and asking about my own, less glamorous but considerably more lucrative career.

He was a bright, attractive and entertaining guest. Alice shot him admiring glances throughout the meal, and by the time the main courses had been served, I could see that her leg was pressed against his under the table while above it, her hand repeatedly touched his muscular forearm.

It was a gesture I recognised only too well. My stomach lurched. Even if at this stage it was only subconsciously, this time my wife was making the first moves herself; taking the first tentative steps down a path she and I both knew could lead in only one direction.

Despite her history of repeated infidelity, this was fast-moving indeed.

There were drinks and laughs and more drinks so by the time the desserts had been cleared and the music started, all three adults were quite tipsy. Alice in particular seemed more than usually under the influence, giggling like a small girl at the least amusing thing Marcus said.

We danced, moving to the floor together before separating into smaller groups. For a long time, no-one but our daughter was allowed to dance with Marcus, something that annoyed even her brother.

Eventually, the music changed to group dances we all knew and could all join in together. This brought even more laughs and even more drinks for the adults, but it also provided a socially acceptable opportunity for Alice to get her hands onto Marcus’ arms, thighs and shoulders.

It was an opportunity she took advantage of with a boldness quite unlike anything I had seen before when the family were around.

Marcus of course returned the compliment, taking care to observe my reactions to his progress. Finding that he was not in the presence of an angry, jealous husband, he became bolder with her too. Several times during the kids’ favourite conga line, his hands strayed to my wife’s breasts, hips and buttocks in full view of me and the other guests.

Although she made no attempt to reciprocate this more overtly sexual contact, Alice did not object or move his hands away either.

Eventually, ten o’clock arrived and I could see both kids, especially our daughter beginning to flag. Tired eyes gave away her imminent exhaustion and it was unquestionably time to take her and her brother back to bed.

“Da-aad,” she complained loudly when I announced the end of the evening. “It’s not fair!”

Her brother protested too, but my decision was firm. It was soon reinforced by the band taking a half-hour break before returning with more romantic music to fill the rest of the evening. Even over-excited girls couldn’t dance to music that simply wasn’t playing.

I gathered the kids together and brought them to say goodnight to their mother and their new friend, who had just returned from the bar with three long, cool drinks. As the kids kissed both adults, I took a long pull from my glass then, when I realised how strong it was, had second thoughts and placed it back on the table.

Was Marcus’ intending to get either Alice or perhaps both of us drunk? I could see him looking at me as if for some kind of sign; as if asking whether he had misread the situation and overstepped the mark.

As if asking what he should do now.

“I can take them back for you…” he volunteered.

It was a test; a clever one to which I responded by cutting him off.

“I’ll take them. You two enjoy the last few dances,” I smiled as I made to leave. “The band will be back in half an hour. Why not take a walk down to the sea? It’ll be lovely this time of night.”

Marcus’ eyes fixed on mine. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough for him to understand.

As I turned to leave, Alice gave me the kind of smile that made my heart thump and my tummy twist. I felt massively aroused but at the same time, sick to my stomach.

Marcus had given me the chance to mark my wife as my own personal territory. I had declined to do so, thereby signalling to them both my complete acquiescence in whatever might occur from now on.

With butterflies in my tummy, an erection forming in my pants and one small hand in each of my large ones, I turned away from the two adults and led our sleepy children along the carefully tended path, across the coarse grass and down the road to our holiday home.

I weakened only once, turning to look over my shoulder as we reached the edge of the lawn to see Alice and Marcus beginning to take the winding path towards the beach and the sea.

Before my eyes, she took his hand in hers. Their bodies were very close as they turned the corner and went out of sight.

A familiar shiver of feral jealousy passed through me. I forced my attention back to the kids and shepherded them towards the building, my heart thumping, my chest tight.

It took far longer than it should to get the two excited children washed, changed and into bed. As an experienced parent, this should have been an easy task but with one shared bathroom and a youthful insistence on privacy, it was a good half hour before they were both in their beds, the door closed and the lights off.

I poured myself a large glass of Spanish brandy, took it out onto the terrace and sipped it, looking up at the stars and listening to the distant music coming from the restaurant bar. The slow dances had started.

The brandy burned my throat; I took another, larger sip and let my mind wander to the only place it could possibly go; wherever Alice and Marcus had gone.

Were they walking hand in hand on the beach beneath these same stars? Was her body brushing up against hers as they walked on the soft sand? Were they paddling in the warm sea, feeling the water breaking over their toes?

Were they kissing in the moonlight, arms wrapped around each other’s taut, fit bodies? Were they dancing slowly, bodies close to together, face to face, her head resting on his strong shoulder? Or had they already dispensed with all that romantic nonsense and started fucking wildly on the coarse, sandy grass?

Something within me dearly hoped that it would be the former. My wife deserved to be romanced into bed, though her behaviour throughout the week suggested she was practically on heat and might have dropped her knickers at the slightest provocation.

Taking another long sip of brandy, I returned to the lounge. The doors were wide open and for a long while, I sat there in contemplation. By one o’clock in the morning, the two still had not returned and my refilled glass was empty again.

At the stroke of one, the music faded to a close. It would not be long before Alice and Marcus returned; time to make my mind up about what to do.

Carmen would have been proud of me. Running true to Cucky-boy form, it never crossed my mind to try and prevent my wife spending the night with her new boyfriend, a man she had met for the first time merely hours earlier.

It was obviously what she wanted and wanted badly; she had been sending out familiar signs of availability ever since he arrived. But then it occurred to me that although they were clear to me, they might not be so apparent to Marcus.

Most married women did not sleep with strangers in front of their husbands. If she had not yet overtly invited him into her bed and her body, Marcus might still be expecting to sleep on the couch. If Alice was to be fucked the way all three of us seemed to want, this must not be allowed to happen. But how could I manage that?

The answer was simple! I must appear to be asleep on the couch myself.

I poured another large brandy but did not even begin drinking it; instead, I placed it on a table by the couch. Then I poured half the remaining fluid out of the window, placed the nearly empty bottle alongside the glass, dimmed the lights then lay down fully dressed on the cushions, trying to look as if I had fallen asleep after drinking far too much.

I wasn’t a moment too soon. Within a few minutes of me closing my eyes, the front door was opened and two whispering, giggling people sneaked in. The atmosphere between them was relaxed and close, and they were now very comfortable in each other’s company.

“Has he gone to bed?” Marcus whispered.

“I’m not sure. I’ll have a look,” came my wife’s stage-whisper reply.

There was a brief pause. I kept my eyes closed tightly.

“The bed’s empty. Let’s have a look in here.”

I put on my very best sleeping drunk performance as they entered the lounge. Alice giggled.

“Look. He’s fast asleep on the sofa.”

“He’s had the best part of a bottle of brandy too by the look of it,” added the male.

“I can smell it,” my wife agreed.

There was another pause. They were moving further away from me. I strained my ears to hear them.

“So where am I going to sleep now?” Marcus asked, his voice full of mock concern.

“Hmmm,” Alice replied. “I could put the airbed up on the floor of the kids’ room…”

“Well you could,” he replied.

“Or… if you really don’t mind, you could… um… spend the night in our room.”

“What about him?”

“He’s out for the count,” Alice whispered dismissively.

A third pause.

“Won’t you be in the bed too?” Marcus asked.

“I suppose I will,” my wife replied in as straight a voice as she could manage.

“What if you’re taking up all the room?”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have no choice but to get on top of me.”

They both broke into giggles, then I heard the sound of a door being closed and locked.

I sat up, my mind buzzing. My plan had worked, but now the two of them had retired to the bedroom and locked the door, the familiar cuckold agony returned with a vengeance.

No matter how many times my wife was fucked by no matter how many men, the pain of knowing that it was about to happen again never diminished. I felt sick, I felt angry, I felt betrayed. I felt massively aroused, and all at the same time.

The emotions teeming round my body and brain were familiar but still terrible, and above all these was the certain knowledge that, if I did nothing, my wife’s vagina would soon be invaded by another man’s erect cock, and that soon after, that vagina along with her cervix and perhaps even her womb itself would be liberally flooded by his live, lithe, active wriggling sperm.

And of course, there was the equally certain knowledge that nothing was exactly what I would do.

Massive arousal in my body fought hard against what little was left of my natural male instincts. The instinct to protect and defend the body of my mate against other, predatory males. The basic instinct possessed by all-male creatures to propagate their own DNA above all others.

Possessed by all creatures except cuckolds like me.

I silently removed my shoes, tiptoed across to the door and placed my ear against it. There was little sound other than the low murmur of voices from within. I waited, listening harder but apart from what might have been the creaking of a single bedspring, I could hear no more.

Disappointed and relieved at the same time, I padded back to the couch and, after another sip of brandy, lay back and strained my ears to hear.

***

“What was that?”

I awoke with a start knowing immediately that something had happened, but what was it? I listened hard but heard nothing.

How on earth I could possibly have fallen asleep knowing my wife was in our bed with another man. I must have drunk more than I had thought. But I knew for certain I hadn’t drunk anything like a much as my wife and the man who was about to become her latest lover.

I lay back on the couch once more, this time determined to stay awake. I did not have long to wait.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

There was a soft, low, regular sound coming from behind the closed bedroom door. I rose to my feet and padded towards it, the well-remembered noise getting a little louder with every step.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

It grew louder still. I pressed my ear to the door’s thin centre panel.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

The slow, rhythmic beat of the bed head against the wall was impossible to ignore.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

Well used to listening to the sounds of another man fucking my wife, this new, relentless, almost mechanical rhythm spoke of a body well under control. The pace was steady without being hurried; the strokes long and deep but still fast enough to raise the arousal of any woman on the receiving end.

And there could be no doubt it was my wife on that receiving end.

Ridiculously, my first thought was that the noise might wake the children, but their room was along the corridor and did not share any wall with the bedroom in which their mother and their new friend were making love.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

“Mmmm! Oh yes! Oh yes!”

Alice’s voice was muffled but the tone was one I recognised well. With her body now being repeatedly penetrated by another man’s cock, she was in her element; enjoying every inch of his shaft, savouring every moment of fullness.

Being on the outside the slutty Hotwife she truly was inside.

My mind filled with the heady mix of pain, terror and delight that the cuckold knows so well and to which I was now a helpless addict. My body responded in the way it knew best; my cock began to stir in my pants.

Thump -Thump! Thump -Thump!

“Yes. Oh yes. Oh, Jesus Christ yes!”

Marcus’ pace increased slightly. The knocking on the bedroom wall grew faster but to relief, not louder. The stimulation between her thighs increasing, Alice’s cries grew wilder and more excited too.

I could picture the scene vividly; my wife on the bed on her back, pale legs spread wide, Marcus dark tanned body moving up and down between those firm thighs as his cock pummelled her cervix.

Thump-Thump! Thump-Thump!

“Oh my God yes! Oh, my fucking God!”

What in the name of goodness had got into her? I had seen and heard my pretty wife being fucked by many men in my time, but for her arousal to rise so high and so quickly was something new.

I pictured her hands on his shoulders and sides, pulling him into her as he fucked her sweet, slender body with all the power his Olympic trained body could muster.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” her muffled voice was high, loud and almost a wail. “Faster! Fuck me faster! Oh God yesses!”

Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump! Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump!

The beat of the bed against the wall was now jackhammer fast. Behind that door, Marcus’ cock was being thrust in and out of my wife’s cunt with a rapidity even his youthful trainees would struggle to match.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

“Oh yes! Oh yes! OoooowwwwWWWWWYESSSSS!”

Suddenly Alice’s voice came loud and clear through the closed door as her first proper orgasm struck.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

“Ooooohhhhhoooowwwwwwww!”

Her voice was almost an animal howl; feral, like nothing I had heard from her before.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

Suddenly her wailing was joined by a low, growling, breathy male voice.

“AGGGHHH!”

The familiar sound of a strong man’s relief and release, though again muffled, was unmistakeably. Marcus had reached his own climax and must even as I listened, be ejaculating deep inside my wife’s battered but willing and eager body.

Less than twelve hours after meeting him for the first time, Alice had let this near-complete stranger seduce, strip, bed and inseminate her.

With my ear pressed to the door’s central panel, all I could do was listen helplessly as the woman I loved, had married and who had given me the two children who were sleeping in a room close by, gave herself completely to a man whose last name she did not even know, opening herself to the full force of his reproductive organs and the potent fluids they produced.

As I stood there, impotent, my tummy writhed and twisted in the dreadful way familiar to all cuckolds; the potent mix of agony, lust, fear, desire, love and jealousy that only a man whose wife is not fully his, can ever really know or understand.

It was torment of an exquisite nature; the pleasure and pain beyond anything I had endured or enjoyed so far.

But the night was not over yet; not by a long, long way…