Three months after we moved in together, I decided I wanted to see Harriet fool around with another man.

I knew she'd never go for it. She wasn't the type.

She was a traditional kind of woman, wasn't overly concerned with her career, and had no grand plans for the future. She'd left school with decent grades but no desire to go into further education. At eighteen, she'd taken a quiet administration job at the local council and been there ever since. I asked her once if she ever thought about promotion, or whether she yearned to move on and try out something new. No, she replied. The job was fine.

Her attitude was the same towards our relationship. We were together three years before she suggested I move in with her - we certainly hadn't rushed. We had a few issues ironing out the logistics of it. Harriet had been paying the mortgage for ten years, and it was clear she hadn't wanted to let me jump in and begin contributing and then feeling as though I had some ownership of the house. We agreed that I would make a small contribution towards some of the other bills - the place would be "mine" insofar as I lived there, but I wouldn't own any part of it. Maybe in a few years she'd sell up and the two of us could buy a place together, but for now we simply enjoyed spending time together.

At the start of 2018, we took the plunge. A new year, a new era for our relationship. We were both excited about what the future might hold.

And then suddenly, this cuckolding fantasy arrived, invading my mind like a parasite that had lodged in my brain.  

I don't know where it came from, what first put the idea into my head. But once it was planted there, it became impossible to shake.

I've watched my fair share of pornography on the internet - who hasn't? -- but it became an obsession for me to find every cuckold video available on the free sites. I found that I wasn't particularly turned on by the big-budget, professional productions: I liked the home videos, the grainy, difficult footage. They seemed so much seedier--and seedier was definitely better for this particular fantasy.

Some of those videos drove me wild -- and the only thing hornier was the thought of living out those scenarios for myself, seeing Harriet do these things right in front of me, like a live porn show.

I knew I had to tell her about it. This wasn't out of some ideal I held about honesty: I just knew there was no way we'd ever actually be able to actually go through with any of it if she wasn't aware.

So I sat her down one Saturday night and told her all about it: "I want to see you fool around with some other guy," I told her. "I've been fantasising about it for a while now. We can work out the exact details of how it'll work later, but I just wanted to hear your thoughts on the idea."

She stared back at me incredulously. She wasn't keen. (And boy, was that an understatement).

I hadn't expected her to be interested. She didn't mind a little adventure between the sheets and in the bedroom -- but that was firmly where the activity stayed: in the bedroom, and mostly between the sheets. For Harriet, wild was making love with the lights on.

And that's what it came down to for her. It wasn't sex, it wasn't fucking: it was making love.

I thought back to the night we had first met, in a pub at the local high street. It had been her simple, uncomplicated nature that had appealed to me, that had drawn the two of us together.

She was pretty, of course she was - but again, it was a simple beauty. She didn't coat herself in makeup or wear skimpy clothes. Her hair was a mousy brown colour and her eyes a lively, sparkling green. The only time she wore skimpy clothes was at the gym, and that was when you could see how her body was toned, firm, tight in all the right places. Her breasts were small and perfectly-shaped, her legs firm and strong. Her pubic hair was always trimmed and tidy, but never extravagant or outlandish. In many ways, her pubic hair was a reflection of the rest of her: neat and functional.

She was the same when it came to sex. It was usually over quick (okay, I'll admit that wasn't entirely her fault). There was never any extra messing about, no fooling around just for the sake of it. There was no desire for experimentation. She didn't mind if we were a little messy - she didn't mind if I came on her tits, for example (though she would never allow it anywhere near her face) - but she was always quick to clean up afterward.

I tried to press her on the cuckolding idea over the next few weeks but she wouldn't even really discuss it - just told me to stop being silly, that it was just a fantasy and just something for those dirty movies. Real people didn't do anything like that, unless there was something wrong with them.

I couldn't argue on that point - maybe there was something wrong with me. It couldn't be a normal thing to want to see your girlfriend with another man. But I wasn't ready to let go of the idea just yet. 

One night, after I'd brought it up yet again, she asked how it would even work. I remember excitedly thinking that she was beginning to come around to the whole idea. There were hundreds of ways we could make it happen, I told her. We could sign up to a swingers' website, we could take out an ad online, we could go to the pub and get drunk and just blurt it out to someone...

It was obvious I'd thought about it a few times. It had, in fact, become something of an obsession. 

Harriet simply shook her head, like a patient teacher talking to a slow child. "There's no way we could do it without putting ourselves in serious danger. We wouldn't know who the guy was, what he was capable of. Anything could happen."

It was a fair point, and one I should have accepted. Instead, I sulked.

"Are you saying the idea doesn't turn you on at all?" I finally asked, desperately. 

"No," she responded. "I'm sure it would be a huge turn on, very exciting. But it's dangerous. There's no way to go through with this safely - no way to protect ourselves, our health, our relationship. It's too risky to think about actually doing anything like that."

I went away with my brain buzzing. She'd disregarded the idea, as always - but this time she had admitted it would turn her on. She had accepted she'd enjoy it (at least theoretically). That, at least, was something to work with.

Another ten years, I figured, and I might finally wear her down to the point where she might give it a try. 

It was better than nothing, but my nuts ached at the thought of having to wait that long.

I played different scenarios through my head, hoping I'd hit upon some inspiring idea. When it came, it didn't hit with a bang. It wasn't like an explosion going off in my head or a lightbulb suddenly pinging to life. It was like a glimmer in the distance, a dot of light on a gloomy light. I wasn't sure if there really was something there or if my mind was playing tricks on me, and I would never find out unless I went searching for that flicker.

It was Harriet's birthday in June, just a few months away. I decided that's when I'd make my move. I'd work on this idea and see how things panned out by then.

#

I started by starving her of sex. I'd never seen her uncontrollably horny, but I figured lack of sex was a good way to try to bring that about. Usually, Saturday night was our night for that, but I began to make excuses, saying I was tired or feeling ill, or I had work to do, or any other thing I could think of to not let it happen.

Harriet didn't seem particularly upset and just accepted it. She would still initiate things, every couple of weeks, even though she knew I was going to come up with a reason for not going through with it. I could see it in her eyes, darkening every time I refused (and each time that shade became a little more intense, a little more desperate).

One week, I considered getting started, fooling around a little, getting things really steamy. Then pulling away and changing my mind when things started to get really hot. It would be interesting to see how she reacted to that.

But I decided not to try it. The lack of sex was getting difficult for me, too. I had started to catch myself daydreaming, fantasising, pretty much every day. I didn't think I'd be able to find the strength to pull away once we got started.

Then, as her birthday approached, I told her I had something special planned. On Friday, I booked us a table at a fancy restaurant on the other side of town and told her we'd go somewhere afterward too.

She dressed up - at least, as much as she ever really did. A pale green dress - nothing too showy, but enough so that when she leaned forwards it was possible to see right down her cleavage. She had her hair down - just below her shoulders - and straightened it so that it had a sheeny, shiny look. She applied makeup. Her eyes were big and deep and glittered as she looked around.

She looked great.

We took a cab to dinner. I ordered the specials, the most expensive wine to go with it. Harriet fluttered her eyes at me throughout, clearly enjoying being spoilt like this. We talked quietly over the table at each other. I talked about our relationship, our past, how we had met, everything we had been through together. I told her that meeting her, and then moving in was the best thing that had happened to me.

She blushed and thanked me, and said she felt the same.

Under the table, between her legs, I knew she'd be getting wet. Attention like this always did it for her. She'd never been the centre of attention anywhere in her life - she had three sisters and two brothers, and she was right in the middle somewhere in terms of success, brains, looks, talent, everything. She had never stood out. She hated to admit it, but it really turned her on when the focus was on her.

We ordered dessert and ate slowly. She looked at me expectantly throughout. It had been nearly four months since we'd last had sex, and it was clear she was expecting that drought to end tonight.

The plan couldn't have been going any better.

I paid the bill and ordered a cab. We sat in the back seats and I held her hand gently. She had gone very quiet since we had left the restaurant.

"The night isn't quite over," I said to her. "I thought we might go to the pub for a couple of drinks."

It was an odd suggestion - neither of us had ever really spent much time in pubs. But she shrugged: fine.

There was a quiet pub not too far from our house, hidden away from the main streets. It would mainly have locals in there - none of the teenagers or the clubbers or the ravers, or whoever else might emerge on a Friday night looking to get tanked up.

I checked my watch as we entered. It was just after nine, so we had a good couple of hours until last orders. It was a small, cosy place. The barman was a skinny, balding, middle-aged guy with deep, haunted eyes. He tried to smile but it came out as a grimace.

I ordered drinks - beer for me, white wine for her - and we sat at a table in the corner.

Aside from the barman, whose interest was now buried in a newspaper he kept behind the bar, there were only four other people in the pub: a white-haired old couple at a table in the corner, sipping short measures and barely looking at one another; an old guy sitting at the bar on his own, engrossed in a newspaper he had spread out on the bar and with a half-full pint next to him; and a young professional sitting at a table with headphones attached to his ears and an iPad resting in front of him. He had half a pint of lager on the table in front of him and munched his way slowly through a packet of crisps. A city worker, stopping in at the local on his way home from work.

I had expected more. I had chosen this place specially - the busy places in town wouldn't be suitable. But nothing was going to happen in a place like this.

Harriet seemed to be just as glum, staring into her drink.

And then there was hope. The door burst open and a bunch of guys came bowling through. They were loud and brash and crass, workmen-types. They crowded close to the bar and the barman appeared in front of them, trying his best to plaster a passable smile onto his face.

"Same again, lads?" one of the guys asked, then ordered four pints from the barman.

I looked over at Harriet. She had noticed them - of course, she had after they'd come crashing through the door like that.

These guys were perfect. They were scruffy, disheveled, in dirty old jeans and T-shirts. Workmen on their way home from a week on a big job, probably just a few Friday night drinks to unwind.

These chavvy types had always been a guilty secret of hers. In school, these had been the cool guys, the bad boys - the ones who'd sat at the back of the class, causing disruption. The kind of guys who never would have noticed someone like Harriet, sitting near the front, buried in a textbook and hardly speaking.

The leader of the group - the one who'd bought the drinks - scanned around the pub. He caught sight of Harriet and his eyes rested on her a few moments longer than necessary, then he turned back to his friends.

I told Harriet I'd get us another drink and went to the bar, standing close to the group.

I took a closer look. The lead guy held their attention now, going through some rambling, raucous story. Despite the rough surface, it was clear he looked after himself. He was somewhere around mid-thirties. His arms and chest were well-toned under his T-shirt. He had a long, intricate tattoo all down his left arm, a sleeve. His brown hair was clipped short and his blue eyes sparkled. His jaw was speckled with stubble.

The second guy was about the same age. His hair was a bit longer, styled and swept to one side. His skin was smooth. Pretty boy type. He said something to the main guy, talking in that same chavvy accent.

Harriet would lose control if a guy like that gave her attention.

The other two guys were a complete contrast to one another: one was old, at least fifty, with greying hair and a scrunched-up face. He'd had a hard life. The fourth was just a kid, barely old enough to be out drinking. He must have been an apprentice of some kind.

The barman came to me when he was done with the group, and I ordered the same again and paid, then went back to the table with the drinks. As I sat down, I swallowed down half my pint in one go. Here goes, I thought.

"Those guys over there seem to have noticed you," I said light-heartedly. "One of them kept looking over while I was getting the drinks."

She blushed slightly and flicked her gaze over to them, then away. She had already noticed, I thought.

"I've been thinking about what we talked about before," I continued, and she looked back at me blankly. "The fantasy thing, you and another guy."

Now she rolled her eyes, trying to treat it as a joke. But her face hardened and she sucked in her cheeks. She wasn't happy that I'd brought it up again. She sipped at her wine curtly.

"Harriet, I'm not kidding here. I know you've got reservations, and I completely understand them. And if we give it a try and you don't like it, well then we don't go through with the whole thing. But I'll regret it forever if we don't at least give it a go."

She sighed. "You're absolutely disgusting."

I leaned over the table toward her now, my voice firm. "We've talked about it and you agreed it was a horny idea. I'm not asking you to jump into bed with someone. Let's just see if those guys make a move, that's all."

I picked up my pint glass and drained what was left. I continued: "I'm going home. I just want you to sit here, drink your drink and see if any of them decide to approach and chat you up. If they do - well, great. You just sit there, let them try to impress you. You might even have a good time."

She breathed deep and glared at me.

"I mean it," I said. "This is what I want. If you're not willing to at least try it out, I just don't see us having any kind of future." I waited a few seconds to let her process this information - it was a harsh thing to say, but I couldn't think of any other way to get this through to her. "As I said, you don't have to do anything. Maybe he'll want a snog, exchange numbers - great! Can't do any harm. Just lighten up a bit and maybe you'll enjoy yourself."

I stood up. The combination of anger and disbelief on her face melted and became pure shock. "It's nearly ten now. I'll head home, and I don't want you to come back through the door any time before eleven. I mean it."

And I turned and left. I could feel her staring after me, her eyes burning into my back. But she didn't follow - she stayed there, no doubt cursing me under her breath.

I walked out into the night air. Adrenaline pumped through my body. I felt alive somehow, excited. I didn't imagine anything would happen - probably those guys would continue talking among themselves and not really notice her. But this was just the start, as far as I was concerned. Once she did it once, she'd go ahead a second time, a third time... It wouldn't take long for her to relax about the whole thing.

It was a shame I couldn't be there to see if anything happened, but maybe one day I could watch from the other side of the bar as a guy tried to chat her up, buy her drinks, take advantage of her.

That might be enough for me, I thought.

#

I was home in five minutes - it really was that close - but when I checked my mobile, I'd still heard nothing from her. No call, no text: nothing telling me this was a stupid game and she wasn't playing any more. I figured she'd probably sit there until about quarter to, finish her drink, then come home.

I also assumed she wasn't going to talk to me for the rest of the weekend, but I could live with that. She'd be angry for a while, but then we'd talk, she'd realise it hadn't really been that bad, and she'd probably agree to it again sometime in future. This was all about the long game.

I put the TV on and slumped in front of it, not paying attention. I was aware of the hands of the clock moving, edging closer and closer to the eleven o'clock deadline. She'd be home soon.

Then it was gone eleven; then quarter past; half-past; midnight. Still no sign of her. I checked my phone: no texts, no calls. I thought of calling her...but no. I wondered if it was possible those guys really had started talking to her. Maybe she was enjoying being chatted up.

Unlikely.

She'd gone to her parents'. We'd had a couple of serious arguments before, and that's where she had gone both times. Clearly, she wasn't going to give in to my ultimatum. She wasn't going to play this game.

I sighed and switched off the tele. I might as well go to bed.

I put on my pyjamas - a Christmas present from her - and then climbed into bed. I'd pushed too far, but at least I knew now she was never going to go along with the idea.

I would call her in the morning, see if I could make it up to her. I drifted off to sleep, wondering what I would actually say.

#

I sat up in bed, head tilted. My head was groggy, but I could definitely hear movement. Voices. A bang as the front door closed.

I reached for my phone in the darkness and checked the time: 1 am. I hadn't been asleep long.

Harriet was home.

My muddled mind tried to piece together what must have happened - the place obviously had a late license, and she'd just stayed there, drinking.

Furious at me, no doubt.

Then there was a crash downstairs, a giggle...followed by a man's muffled voice. I shook my head clear. No, I wasn't imagining it. She had brought someone back with her!

What the hell? That hadn't been part of the deal, but I was in no position to complain.

I clambered out of bed, the fog around my brain dissipating.

I should go downstairs and see what's happening, I thought to myself. I slowly edged out of the bedroom and into the hallway. I could hear them from here, talking. He was loud and brash, his voice deep and almost booming. I thought I recognised the voice: this was the guy from the pub - the one who'd been the leader of the little group who'd come in. Clearly, he actually had made a move after I'd left, bought Harriet a drink - and that's why she'd been out much longer than I'd expected.

But what was the thinking with bringing him back here? I'd been quite clear on this point: she should take his number and get in touch with him later after the two of us had discussed the best way to proceed with this whole thing; or she could snog him there in the pub and tell me about it when she came home.

Maybe that was the idea - bring him back so she could snog him here. I could sneak down and actually see for myself. No need for her to relay the story to me later if I could be there to witness first-hand.

It was a decent idea, but there were several difficulties there: how was my presence going to remain a secret? It was impossible to walk down our stairs without making a sound - they were creaky. And how would I get into the living room without them noticing? And where would I hide even if I managed to get there unseen?

I watched from the top of the staircase. I couldn't see into the living room, but I could see the hallway. Harriet came out of the living room and I watched her cross into the kitchen then come back a few moments later with a can of beer in her hand. She didn't notice me lurking at the top of the stairs.

I waited a few seconds, trying to listen to what was happening. I could hear the guy talking again, but I couldn't make any sense of what he was saying.

I wasn't going to just stand here and wait, I decided. I had to find out what was happening.

I walked down the steps, moving slowly but not hesitating. The staircase groaned and shrieked under my feet, as if the pain of holding my weight was unbearable. The voices in the room hushed.

I walked into the living room. The two of them were on the sofa, looking towards me as I entered.

I was right - it was the guy from the pub. The one who had seemed like the leader of that little group. His face split open into a wide smile as I entered. "There he is!" he said, his voice booming somehow. "You must be the boyfriend she's been telling me about."

He took a deep swig from the can in his hand. I looked over at Harriet, my expression asking for some kind of explanation, but she wasn't looking at me. Her gaze was fixed on the floor in front of her.

"Yes, that's me," I said. I walked over to the armchair and sat on it, perched on the edge.

"I'm Lee," the guy continued. "I saw you in the pub earlier but didn't get a chance to say hello. Had a nice chat with Harriet after you left though."

So I gathered, I thought, but just looked back at him.

"Nice pyjamas," he said, nodding.

I looked down, remembering that I was wearing the pyjamas she had bought me for Christmas, light blue and covered with tiny cartoon bunnies. It had been a joke, but they'd turned out to be comfortable and I'd kept wearing them.

I flushed with embarrassment. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Ha! Don't worry, bruv, I get it."

The three of us sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

"Ain't you getting yourself a drink?" he asked finally.

I shook my head.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," Harriet said quietly and stood up. The two of us watched her leave, heard her walk down the hall, and then heard the click as the downstairs bathroom door shut and locked behind her.

I turned to face Lee. His eyes were fixed on mine. He took the beer in his hand and placed it onto the coffee table beside him, careful to put it on the coaster that Harriet must have set there for him. Then he leaned forward, bringing his face toward me.

I tensed, wondering what was about to happen.

"She told me all about you, y'know." His voice was low, controlled - aimed in my direction in case Harriet could somehow overhear. I could smell alcohol on his breath; it took my best effort not to screw up my face in disgust. "She said you're a pervert. She said you wanted her to get off with another guy and you wanted to watch her do it."

Well, that's not quite the story. Tonight was supposed to just be about seeing how she'd react. 

"She said she told you she didn't want to, but you walked out and left her in the pub on her own. That's pretty shitty, dude."

I looked back at him evenly, not commenting.

"She's a nice lass, and she's pretty too. I caught myself taking a sneaky gander when I first came into the pub."

I noticed.

"I never realised you'd just deserted her. Took me nearly an hour to figure out you'd gone. She was just sitting there with her drink, looking like she was going to cry. It was my mate Dave who noticed her first - I'm not surprised. He's always been able to sniff out the vulnerable ones. I went over, started chatting her up. But she wasn't having it, not at all. He came back all sheepish, said he thought he was upsetting her more.

"So I went over, gave her a bit of the old wideboy charm. Just cheered her up basically - made her laugh, bought her a drink or two."

I could see it all in my head. I assumed his friend Dave was the pretty boy I'd seen him with. Yes, she'd fancy him; but Lee was the type she was uncontrollably attracted to. I could imagine her regressing into a silly schoolgirl as he regaled her with tales from the building site.

"I really thought I was getting somewhere. I asked her if she wanted some air and we went outside for a bit. The other lads knew exactly what I was thinking. We had a snog and she let me have a feel, but she wouldn't go any further. I really thought she was gonna suck my dick round the back of the pub - she was horny as hell, that was obvious - but nope, she wasn't having it at all."

I goggled at him. Could it be true? Had she really kissed him? Let him grope her? If so - mission accomplished. Why did she need to bring him back here? She could have just come home and told me what had happened. I'd have woken up with a raging hard-on and bent her over and fucked her right then and there.

"We went back inside and we got serious. My mates all left - went to another pub - but I told her I wanted to stay. I wanted to know what was wrong. So she told me how you'd put her up to it, dumped her in the pub and said she had to get off with someone or it'd be over. I've done some pretty scummy things in my life, I'm not proud of 'em, but this is the worst thing I've ever heard. I can't believe she actually cares what you think."

I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again. There wasn't much to say, and I didn't owe him an explanation. I had taken the only steps I could to make her lose her inhibitions - and clearly it had worked. She wanted to experiment - something that was evident from the fact he was telling this story - but she needed a way to let herself go and take the final step.

"I told her straight: I think she's beautiful and I fancy her. I enjoyed kissing her and I wanted to kiss her again. To do more. I suggested we come back here so that I could have a chat with you, see if you really are happy about the whole thing if you really do want her to go through with it." He leaned back on the sofa and reached for the beer again, took a swig.

I realised I'd been holding my breath the whole time he'd been speaking, and let it out gently and took a long, slow breath. My hands had been gripping the fabric of the armchair but now relaxed. I wanted to ask him what was supposed to happen next, but he had anticipated that and began to speak before I could.

"I don't know exactly how you wanted this to work, or how far you wanted this to go. I don't know if you had some idea about watching her get fucked in front of you. But now it is going to happen." His voice had lost that taut, controlled tone. He was still quiet, but menacing now. His eyes had lost focus and seemed to stare through me. There was a thick growl at the back of his throat. "When she comes back, I'm going to tell her we've talked about it and you're happy for anything to happen. Then I'm going to fuck her." He raised a hand and pointed a finger at me. "Don't you dare say no, or interrupt, or try to stop her. If you do, I'll break your fucking face. Do you understand?"

I nodded slowly. It might be interesting to see him try, but there was no way she'd go through with that, I thought.

There was a flush followed by the click of the bathroom unlocking.

Lee slumped back on the sofa, beer in his hand. The warm smile re-emerged on his face as Harriet came back into the room. "We've had a good chat, your fella and me," he said. He grinned and raised his beer can high in the air as if making a toast. "He's on board with the whole thing. He said he's happy for anything you want to happen - you've got a free pass to do whatever makes you horny."

She looked questioningly at me, eyebrows raised.

I hesitated a second, then nodded.

Lee patted the empty sofa cushion next to him. "Come sit here," he said.

She sat down, her eyes fixed on him. He leaned in towards her and she came forward to meet him. The two of them kissed, long and deep.

"Well, you're still a good kisser," he said as he pulled away. "Glad you didn't lose that since we left the pub."

She giggled, and the two of them leaned forward and kissed again. As they kissed this time, Lee reached out a hand and pawed at her breasts. Her nipples were erect, pressing through the thin fabric of her dress. She moaned as his fingers fiddled with them.

Lee reached out and took her hand, directing it towards his crotch. She placed her hand there, her fingers creeping along the folds of his jeans, working the outline of what looked like a fairly big cock.

"And I haven't lost that since we left the pub, either," he breathed.

Again she laughed. Her cheeks reddened. She didn't remove her hand from where it rested though, and her fingers actually curled around the protuberance it had discovered. She leaned into the kiss.

The two of them melted into it. Lee's hand stopped roaming and he took hold of the sides of her head, holding her still as he kissed her. Her right hand held onto his arm; her left continued working on his dick, jerking it through the jeans. Then her fingers co-ordinated, found the zipper, and gently lowered it. Her hands slipped inside the front of his jeans.

I stared.

This continued for a few minutes. I could see her hand working away. Then Lee pulled away from the kiss, reached down, and unbuckled his belt.

Harriet retracted her hand and watched as he unbuttoned the jeans and slipped them down, leaving his erect cock bulging through his underwear. He slipped those down too, freeing it. It pointed up at her and throbbed. Lee let out a sigh as if the pressure of it being trapped beneath his jeans and underwear had been painful.

He grabbed her and kissed her again. Harriet's hand went straight to his dick, holding it, feeling the hot flesh for the first time.

It really was big, I thought. It would have taken two hands to hold the whole thing.

Harriet jerked it slowly, feeling the texture in her hands as they kissed.

After another minute or so, they pulled apart. Harriet's face had become flushed, bright red - I knew this to be yet another sign that she was incredibly horny now. Her hand continued to work the dick in her hand, staring at him as she did it. Then she looked down. Her eyes widened as she saw just how big it was. She shuffled her knees across the sofa, lowering herself to his cock, seeing it up close.

She continued to gently jerk it, her eyes fixed on it, taking in every part of it: the soft, uncircumcised head, the stiff and throbbing shaft, the thick vein that ran along its length. He had a small tuft of pubic hair - clearly, he'd trimmed or shaved and this was just the start of its regrowth.

Still enraptured, she lowered her head again, her lips parting slightly. Her tongue poked out from beneath them and she pressed it down onto the shaft of his cock. She licked gently, slowly, then sped up, like a cat lapping at a saucer of milk. She licked up his shaft and then around the bulbous head, then opened her mouth wider and placed it over the head completely, devouring it. She bobbed up and down a few times, getting used to it, then removed it again.

She jerked his dick and looked up at him as if seeking approval.

"That's amazing," he said. He reached out a hand and put it on the back of her head, directing her back to it.

And she went, quicker this time, diving down and engulfing his cock in her mouth. Well, half of it anyway. Her hand crept away from his shaft and lower, cupping his balls. She bobbed her head up and down, slowly at first and then increasing the speed. She tried to force more of him inside her and gagged. She looked up at Lee apologetically.

"It's great," he said. "I'm sure you're just not used to having one this size." He flicked his eyes over at me and then back to her. "Let's get comfortable though."

He pushed her away from him and stood up. He removed his jeans, folded them, and placed them across the arm of the sofa; then removed his underwear and placed that on top. His legs were strong, full of muscle, with just the right amount of hair so that he was masculine without being disgustingly hairy.

He kept the T-shirt on and dropped back onto the sofa. He asked Harriet if she'd prefer to stay on the sofa or move to the floor, on her knees on the carpet in front of him.

She shrugged. Her tongue flicked at the corner of her mouth.

She was so horny right now she didn't care what position she was in, I thought. She just wanted to get back to it. I tried to remember the last time she'd been that horny with me. It had been a while.

She stayed on the sofa, shifting onto all fours. Lee reached out and put his hand on the back of her head, guiding her back down to his cock. She dropped to it obediently, bobbing up and down, slopping saliva everywhere, playing with his balls. Occasionally, she'd pull it out of her mouth and lick up and down the shaft.

Lee closed his eyes, lost in ecstasy.

My own erection throbbed in my pants. Harriet worked enthusiastically - it would be over soon. Then we could send him away and I'd take her. Quickly. I hadn't been sure if it would actually turn me on to see her go through with it, but it was doing more than I'd ever imagined.

"I'm gonna come, baby," Lee said. She looked up at him, alarmed. "Don't worry," he assured. "I'll rest up a bit and then I'm gonna fuck you - no way am I leaving here tonight without fucking you."

She dived back onto his dick and I settled back in the chair - it seemed like I was going to have to wait a while before I got to have my way with her.

There was a sudden ringing, and Lee reached over to his jeans and pulled out his phone. Harriet stopped and looked up at him expectantly, holding his dick in one hand. "You keep going, don't worry about this," he said and reached a hand to the back of her head again. She went back to business, and he swiped the screen, put the phone to his ear, and said: "Yo."

A wide smile spread across his face as he listened to the person at the other end. "Yes mate," he said. "Of course." There was more talking at the other end, and he added: "Well I told you I would."

He looked down at Harriet, bobbing up and down, faster and faster, his hand still on the back of her head.

"Mate, I wouldn't lie. If you'd FaceTimed me instead of calling, you'd see for yourself." More babble at the end of the phone. "Yes, she's sucking it right now. She's incredible, honestly. Best I've ever had." More noise. "Yes, her bloke is here. He's watching. That's what he's into... Yeah, right pervert. I tell you what - if you don't believe me, I'll text you the address. You can come see for yourself... Yes, it's on your way home anyway... Well, it's your own fault for just giving up... Right, sure, okay... See you in a bit, bye."

He hung up the phone and then looked at me. "What's the address here?"

I didn't answer. He didn't really think he could invite his friend to watch him fuck my girlfriend, did he?

He sighed and took his hand off the back of Harriet's head and turned her face towards him. She gasped, a string of saliva hanging between her mouth and his cock.

"What's the address here?" he asked. "You remember Dave, who spoke to you first? He's gonna pop in and have a drink with us on his way home."

She gave him the address, breathing the words quickly. He let go of her and she dropped back onto his cock, desperate to finish the job. He pulled out his phone and texted the address to his friend, then put it down and went back to enjoying himself.

After a minute or so, I could see his hips begin to move slightly, jerking upwards to meet her as her head bobbed up and down, trying to force his cock further into her mouth. He was getting ready to come.

"I'm going to come in your mouth," he said softly.

She hated that. But she said nothing and kept working away, bobbing up and down.

Then he grunted and let out a long, deep groan. Harriet stopped bobbing. Her tongue and mouth worked, taking every drop, spilling none of it. She swallowed and gulped, then worked her tongue over his shaft, cleaning up anything that had leaked.

Lee chuckled. "That was great," he said to her. "I better get my pants on - Dave will be here in a few minutes."

She wiped a hand across her mouth and smiled sweetly back at him. She seemed to have forgotten me completely.

And then the doorbell chimed. My head jerked around. He really had given his friend our address, and he really had turned up.

Lee yanked his jeans back on and nodded at me. "You best go let him in."

I felt myself standing up, drifting out of the living room and towards the front door. But I wasn't thinking about any of this, just moving automatically - my mind was elsewhere, replaying the memory of Harriet's face as he had come, as he had begun to fill her mouth with his spunk.

I opened the door - it was the guy who'd been in the pub earlier, the pretty-boy one with the hair swept to the side. I stood to one side and offered for him to come in. He looked uncertain.

"Yo Dave! It's fine! I'm in here!" Lee called from the living room.

Dave stepped forward, looking at me awkwardly, not sure what to say. He walked through to the living room. I closed the door and followed him through.

Lee was sprawled on the sofa now, with Harriet draped across him, her face red and her eyes glazed. Lee held the can of beer in his right hand; his left was buried between her legs.

"You remember Harriet?" he said to Dave, and Dave nodded at her. He twisted and looked questioningly towards me. "And the guy in the bunny pyjamas is Harriet's boyfriend. Take a seat, Dave; he's gonna go grab us a drink."

I nodded and went to the kitchen, taking two beers out of the fridge, one for each of them. It never even occurred to me to get one for myself.

When I got back to the living room, Dave was sitting in my armchair. I said nothing, handed over the beers, then took a few steps back and sat down on the floor.

"So Harriet's boyfriend is a bit of a loser. He gets turned on by watching other guys fuck his missus," Lee explained.

Dave looked around at me with an eyebrow raised. I nodded in return, not sure what else to do.

Lee and Dave opened their beers and toasted and drank, then drifted into a conversation about work. Lee's left hand, still buried between Harriet's legs, moved gently even as he had this conversation. Harriet breathed unevenly and bit at her bottom lip.

It wasn't long before the conversation came around to her.

"I promised her I'd fuck her good tonight," Lee said, looking around at her. She offered a weak smile in return. "But I'm just, y'know, building up for another go." He removed his hand from between her legs and slid it up to her breasts. He squeezed them gently through her top. "Her tits are stunning, soft but firm. Amazing. Here - have a feel."

Dave looked back at him but said nothing. Harriet didn't react at all.

"Hey," Lee said, and Harriet looked up at him. "Is it okay for Dave to have a feel of your boobs, see how great they are?"

She didn't even think about it - just nodded her head. She didn't mind at all.

Prodded by his friend, Dave stood up and stepped awkwardly over to her. He reached out a hand and caressed her boobs, feeling their weight, their firmness - then he squeezed harder and moved to the other one and squeezed that too. He brushed his palms across her nipples and she let out a gentle moan. I could see the protuberance of his erection pressing on his jeans.

After awkwardly groping her for about thirty seconds, he stepped away and sat back down in the armchair.

"Great, eh?" Lee asked, and Dave nodded. Lee looked around addressing all of us for the next bit: "So here's what I'm thinking. I can tell you're still horny baby, and you're waiting for me to be ready to go again. Which won't be too long, honestly. But Dave here is horny too - and you know he really fancies you. Why don't you show him what you can do with your mouth?"

The two of them looked at him but said nothing.

"I suppose we should check with the boyfriend, but I don't think he'll mind. Will you?" he added. I shook my head and Lee leaned closer to Harriet. "And to be fair, we've already agreed: this is your night This is about doing what makes you horny. Does it turn you on to think about sucking Dave's cock?"

She moaned in response.

Lee smiled. "Seems like a good idea then. Off you go."

He put a hand on her back and gently directed her off the sofa. She went over to Dave, standing in front of him. The two of them looked awkwardly at each other. Harriet's nipples were erect and poked at the fabric of her dress. Her eyes were wide and glazed and full of lust.

I thought they were just going to look at each other, neither of them brave enough to initiate anything.

And then Harriet dropped to her knees in front of him. She reached out a hand and began to stroke the outside of his jeans, feeling the hardness there. Dave unzipped his flies, rummaged a hand inside, and pulled out his dick. It wasn't as big as Lee's - just average. It poked out of the front of his jeans like a chubby, pale sausage.

Harriet leaned forward, opened her mouth, and placed it over his dick. She had no problem taking almost all of it in one go. She licked and sucked and bobbed her head.

Dave's hands curled around her head and held onto her.

Lee picked up his phone. I felt myself tense, thinking he was going to try to take a sneaky picture of them; instead, he pressed a few buttons, sent a text, then placed it back on the arm of the sofa.

"Maybe you should take that top off," Lee suggested. "Let's have a proper look at those tits of yours - let Dave have a proper feel."

She pulled away from Dave and pulled her top over her head, leaving her in just a black bra. She might have removed that too, but Dave reached out and took her head again and pulled her back to him. She resumed sucking.

I leaned forward, taking it all in, teetering. She was going to swallow his come, I thought, just as she had Lee's. I couldn't remember her ever doing that for me; and yet she was going to swallow two random guys' loads in one night. I couldn't even remember the last time she'd given me a blowjob, save for the occasional peremptory act during foreplay, usually undertaken as an act of appeasement - or mercy.

And then there was a knock at the front door. I almost toppled over. Harriet stopped and looked out at the hallway, and so did Dave.

The three of us turned towards Lee.

He flashed a big smile. "That's the other guys, Eddie and Reece," he said. "They didn't believe me either, thought I was full of shit and could never get off with a stunner like Harriet. So I told them to get a cab here."

Dave rolled his eyes as if this was exactly the kind of thing he expected from his friend.

Then Lee looked over at me. "You better go let them in."

This was getting to be a dangerous situation, I thought to myself. I looked down at Harriet, wondering what her reaction to all this was, but she wasn't looking at me.

She had turned her attention back to Dave's cock, looking at it as if transfixed.

"I'm so close," Dave said quietly to her. "I think I'll come before he even gets the door open. This is amazing." He pulled her back to him again and she began to work faster than before, determined to complete her task.

Lee looked up at me expectantly. Fine. I tore my eyes away and went to answer the door.

As I went into the hallway, I heard a grunt and a groan and knew that Dave was filling her mouth with his come. 

I swung the door open. It was the other two from the pub, as expected - the old guy with the grey hair and the wrinkled face, and the young kid, the apprentice. Seeing him now - innocent expression, wide eyes, pimply face - I figured there was no way he was even old enough to be drinking.

I stepped to one side. "Come in."

They stepped tentatively over the threshold, looking around as if the place might be booby-trapped.

"Lee and Dave are in the living room," I said. "I think they're finished with my girlfriend, at least for now."

That sounded pathetic. The two of them exchanged a wide-eyed glance and went into the living room. I shut the door and followed.

Dave was still sitting in the armchair, a sleepy, satisfied smile plastered on his face. His jeans were zipped and buttoned once again.

Harriet was sitting on the floor, still, in just her bra, her top dismissed and forgotten about to one side. There was a tiny clear line of saliva - or maybe semen - at the corner of her mouth. Her face and neck were a dark red colour, flushed from embarrassment or horniness.

Standing just inside the doorway to the living room, the two new arrivals looked at her with wide eyes.

Lee grinned at them. "Harriet is absolutely fantastic," he said. "You already knew she was gorgeous, but it turns out she's a great host too. She's got a great mouth - she's taken me and then Dave, and neither of us could hold no for more than about five minutes."

Dave nodded in agreement.

"Luckily for us," Lee continued. "Her bloke absolutely loves watching this stuff. He's a real kinky guy."

The two of them flashed goofy smiles at me.

"In fact!" Lee suddenly said, sitting up straight on the sofa. "I've just had an idea." But the way he looked at me - the way his eyes fixed on me now as he spoke - told me this wasn't a new idea at all.

The whole room, including Harriet, looked to him now. The young kid barely managed to tear his eyes away from her breasts. I couldn't blame him.

"When we were back at the pub, both these guys talked about how hot they thought you were. Both are clearly very horny just looking at you. And it'd pretty much be a dream come true for either of them to get anywhere near you..."

Yep. I knew where this was headed. We all did.

I expected Harriet to stand up, angrily shoot down the idea before he could even begin to explain it. But she sat there, listening, still biting her bottom lip.

Lee leaned forward and lowered his voice, but he was still loud enough that we all heard what he said next: "I think you should show these two just how good you really are with that mouth - show that boyfriend of yours exactly what you can do. It was amazing seeing what you did to Dave, but it would be extra special to see you take two at once. I can feel my cock twitching, it's nearly there - this would be enough to get it fully hard again. You suck these two guys off, and as soon as you're done they'll all leave. I'll stay, and then I'll fuck your brains out."

Her pupils were wide, dilated to an impossible size by the flow of lust through her body. "Yes, okay," she said.

I felt myself slump to the floor in the corner of the room.