December

I didn’t see Grace or the cuck from our weekend in London until after Christmas, which was good - it let things cool off. We’d spent three weekends in a row together and talked every day, so it had felt intense.

The old me analysed our weekend away in London as not particularly successful - £400-odd spent for a single fuck (pleasant though it was) wouldn’t have represented good value in the old days. But, it had instead been a fun time together, without having to ‘perform’ for the cuck. We’d had some difficult conversations about what we both wanted and survived. Thank you to the members on SH who gave me some sound advice.

I needed to get the sexual energy going again but there wasn’t any time to get together. Work was busy trying to meet deadlines and close projects off, and we all had time with family and friends booked in.

I encouraged the cuck to take his cage off and reclaim Grace, following which I had an update that they’d had an enjoyable fuck. Grace messaged me privately to say she’d finished herself off thinking of me which was cute, although there was no need to massage my ego. That said, the edge was taken off by a hookup I had the same evening with a girl I’d been talking to on another service. I decided I'd dip my bread a bit to take my mind off Grace.

One was a girl from work after the office party the Saturday before Christmas but that wasn’t an achievement - after three years of mostly working at home and an open bar it was like shooting fish in a barrel. If you could fog a mirror you could get laid there and I don’t intend to be at the company much longer so it was pretty low risk; there’s a reasonable chance I’ll never see her again anyway.

Then I went for an early doors pint with the rugby lads on Christmas Eve, which concluded with an energetic, drunk, high fuck with a random girl at about 4am. I was woken up by my phone vibrating under me, on Christmas morning lying on a sofa in an unfamiliar freezing house. She was lying next to me with, I swear, far more cheap tattoos than she’d had the night before. I was, like her, naked, except a full condom which I pulled off with a sigh of relief: at least I’d wrapped up.

It was my older sister on the phone wondering where I was, and why I wasn’t at mum’s with a bacon sandwich and a buck’s fizz. I had no idea where I was so I did a What3Words and gave her them as if calling in an extraction. I quietly picked out my clothes from around the room and waited for her to arrive outside just to avoid awkward conversations with her or anyone else who woke up. I'd never been so glad to see my sister but she definitely didn’t feel the same way.

She dropped me home to shower, change and pack an overnight bag, and, as she decided I couldn’t drive myself, she waited while I tried to detox away the night before in the shower. I had a bollocking from my mum for being so late, followed by a barrage of questions at dinner from my Catholic nonna, over from Italy, about where I’d been, why I’d missed breakfast, why I was so tired, and why I had marks on my neck. I wished I’d put a shirt on.

Dodging her questions in English would have been bad enough but doing it with a hangover, in Italian, was murder. My more world-wise (and only nominally Catholic) nonno enjoyed my squirming with a big sly grin for a few minutes before rescuing me, suggesting she “‘lascialo stare” and distracting her from her interrogation with a cracker joke that didn’t translate very well.

I felt slightly better after a huge dinner. I sent Grace and the cuck a Merry Christmas message and got a picture back of them cooped up with Grace's parents playing charades. I retreated to the back room and had a nap, cuddled up with the dogs, thinking of Grace.

I woke up with a second wind and joined my siblings and their partners playing penny poker and drinking the house dry. My twin brother broke out the King Edward cigars and brandy to toast absent friends, and eventually we all collapsed into our childhood beds.

On Boxing Day I played golf with my brother. He thrashed me up and down the front nine and then, bored of being beaten, I talked him into a few beers instead. We sat in the club in the sunshine and he tried to pin me down on women but I avoided mentioning anything relating to Grace and the cuck. We’ve never spared details of our conquests so I’m not sure whether he guessed something was up.

After joining the rest of the family for a pub lunch, I got a taxi back home and after a few busy days, flopped out on my sofa alone in my still, cold house, I decided two weeks was long enough and I needed Grace. I messaged the WhatsApp group and asked if they fancied coming over to mine the following night (27 December). It wasn’t the right time for Grace so we organised it for Wednesday 28th.

I had a day of chocolate, PlayStation, and working through the leftovers my mum insisted I take, occasionally exchanging messages in our group with new things we wanted to try. I had a good clean round the house and put the last of my Christmas decorations up, hoping to make it look like I actually lived there. Nice bed sheets were brought out and candles put on standby, and I wrote this story up to this sentence.

28 December

I picked up Grace and the cuck just before lunch. Grace hasn’t got a car and the cuck hasn’t even got a licence to drive one. She looked stunning. I kissed her in their hall and ran my hands down her sides and over her hips, trying to work out if she’d changed shape in the two weeks since I’d last seen her. I felt like I probably had, given the amount I’d eaten and drank, but Grace felt exactly the same, slender and soft and with an incredible waist to hip ratio.

The cuck shook my hand and pulled me into an embrace in his big puffer jacket. Grace got into the front seat and the cuck in the back.

I set off back to mine and, fuck me, Grace was horny. She started off whispering into my ear how much she’d missed me, then moved on to kissing my neck and nibbling my ear. She had that same perfect smell, like candied roses. I said I’d missed her too but concentrated on driving, noticing the cuck in the rear view moving to watch her.

Grace shifted in the seat, shrugged out of the seat belt, threw a bottle out of the cup holder and leant over the centre console. “I can’t wait,” she said, and unzipped me. This wasn’t how I’d expected this to go, and she pulled out my semi and started to stroke me, talking dirty.

“Fuck baby,” I said, trying to stay in the middle of the lane. She smiled at me and kissed down my coat between my legs to the head of my cock and flicked it with her tongue. I rolled my hips to poke further out my flies and realised I was already hard; it didn’t take much around Grace.

I’ve never had head while driving before, despite my best efforts. It felt unreal. I tried to drive normally, checking the mirrors and trundling along behind a lorry on the inside lane. Grace freed my balls pulling them through the zip, and was working them with her fingers while she sucked, using her other hand to rub the base.

Eventually we got to the M42 roundabout by the airport. I’m not sure whether it’s legal to drive while getting a blowjob but I reasoned that if you’re not even allowed to skip a track while waiting at the lights, it  probably wasn’t. The motorway seemed like a good place to get caught.

On the other hand, I didn’t want it to stop. I decided to go round the back roads to mine. I went straight over the junction, round the bypass and then left at the island to go through what was Bickenhill but now looks like the Somme.

There’s all sorts of little side roads around there where the taxis linger waiting to pick up fares at the airport (and the local doggers probably go), and I picked the second one; too many told Toyotas hanging around the first one. I indicated left and the inertia of the turn caused Grace to go deeper on my cock than intended and she gagged. She pushed herself upright on my legs and looked at me confused and with a trail of spit between her mouth and my cock.

“We’re fucking,” I said. She giggled and kissed me, her mouth tasting salty.

I found a farm gate, pulled up behind a horse box and checked the coast was clear. Not the most romantic spot, but I tucked my cock back in my pants and Grace and I slid the front seats forward to make space in the back. We swapped places with the cuck and Grace sat next to me in the back. She looked around nervously but I assured her it was fine, the cuck would keep a lookout and anyway my windows are tinted.

We started kissing passionately, and as we did we slowly stripped each other; easy stuff like hoodies first and then awkward things like jeans and pants, until we were fully naked.

Grace was wet and she threw her leg over me to straddle as I sat forward in the seat. She held my cock in her hand and, after a couple of rubs on her clit, slid herself down me. My hands automatically went to her curvy hips.

I cannot describe how incredible her pussy feels. I’d been in three (at varying levels of intoxication, okay) since I’d last been in Grace’s but hers was the only one I’d wanted. She was waxed, as usual, and tighter as two coats of paint, yes, and deliciously moist and warm, but somehow the fact that it was Grace made the experience of being inside her even more than the sum of its parts. It’s like penis heaven.

I looked up at her and met her eyes, our faces in a tunnel made by her hair, enjoying all the little expressions on her beautiful face as she slid down, eventually so she sat in my lap.

“I’ve missed you,” she said. Some advice I’d received occurred to me about not missing her and keeping my distance.

I smiled and moved my hands round her hips to her bum. Fuck the advice, I’ve never been good at following it. I thought about what to say and all that came was “I missed you too”. She put her tongue in my mouth and we kissed as her pussy seemed to grip my cock as hard as it could. If I’d been worried about the sexual spark going out I’d done so unnecessarily.

A car passed. I broke the kiss and moved out from the tent her hair made, suddenly remembering where we were. The cuck was kneeling on the front passenger seat with his elbows on the dashboard. He gave me a thumbs up; he’d clocked it.

“Have a wank if you want man,” I said. I still wasn’t in ‘giving orders’ mode. He shook his head and knocked on his crotch. The cage. I still don’t understand them although in hindsight I was glad of it, I didn’t really want some lad’s spunk all over my leather.

Grace took the lead and started to ride, super slow to start with while we kissed, gradually increasing the pace. I started off by playing with her tits with my tongue as they rose and fell mesmerisingly in front of me, but I found myself drawn to look up into her blue eyes. She’d lightly made them up which accentuated their natural beauty, but I just wanted to look into her pupils like the world’s sexiest staring contest.

The fucking was so easy. We worked as a team and kept perfectly in sync. I’ve had long-term girlfriends where we’ve not got to that level. Occasionally we’d stop or slow down to edge one another but our bodies just seemed to do it, knowing exactly when to kiss and when to break, when to go hard and when to ease off, which angle we wanted. The world fell away leaving just the two of us in each other’s arms, slightly sweating in the unventilated car bouncing slightly on its suspension.

We came together, maybe me slightly before Grace. No communication was required, just a long, passionate kiss as I pumped into her and she tensed and wettened and then our customary cuddle as we came down. I held her close and enjoyed that rhythmic heartbeat I’d been dreaming of, her breath slowing, her pussy changing shape, the smell of her perfume and our sex, her soft skin.

I looked around - our combined breathing had steamed up the windows and it had begun to rain. Someone could have been standing right outside and not seen in.

I couldn’t be bothered to move. I wrapped my arms around her and fell sideways so we were lying across the back seat with her on top. My cock fell out of her along with a trickle of our juices, and I kissed her some more, gently slaloming my fingertips between the discs of her spine.

I’d really missed doing this and could have carried on forever. The cuck eventually turned in his seat, causing the car to rock slightly. “We boring you boy?” I called to him.

“No sir.”

Afternoon

I smiled at Grace and asked if she was hungry. Yes. I got the cuck to put the air conditioning on to demist while we awkwardly got dressed in the cramped space. We reset the seats and, having verified we looked reasonable and covered up our sex smell with deodorants like naughty teenagers, stopped at The Boat for lunch. Afterwards, we left the cuck in O’Neills while we went and did a quick food shop (because I only had leftover turkey, pigs in blankets and all the veg nobody else wanted) and then found some sexy underwear partly as a late Christmas present, but also to replace the pants of Grace's I’d ripped before Christmas. We went and found the cuck, who looked like a lost puppy, and then picked up the car and went back home.

It was weird at first, them being in my house. I felt I should play host but I could equally just have got the cuck to bring their stuff in. I turned the lights on - it was just dusk - and they walked in with the slight apprehension of people entering an unfamiliar space.

I encouraged them to make themselves at home and busied myself throwing the stuff in the fridge - there was no competition for space. Grace accepted a prosecco and stood in the kitchen politely complimenting my house (it’s nothing special, it’s just a white box, although at least it was clean for a change).

I opened two beers, grabbed them by their necks between my fingers, looped my arm around Grace and led her into the lounge where the cuck was sitting neatly on the chair. I handed him one and sat myself down, leaving my arm on the back of the chair. As if we were a real couple, Grace sank into the sofa next to me, tucked her legs up and rested her head on my shoulder.

“Right,” I said*, “Here we are. Mi casa, su casa. I want you to feel at home, so [cuck] your room’s the spare room, first one upstairs. Grace is with me,” she squeezed me. “Eat and drink whatever you can find, the TV has Netflix and Prime. The dogs are at my mom’s and I’m not expecting anyone round. OK?”

The cuck nodded.

“You know the safe word?” Another nod. “Safe signal - five taps?” Yes. “Anyone does or says that we all stop.” I realised I was being too serious. I looked at the Playstation and then at the cuck. “If you save over my God of War save you’re going in the dog cage, I’ve got it upstairs, do you understand?”

He smiled but stayed in character and nodded. I told him to take their stuff upstairs.

Once he was out of earshot, Grace turned to me and grinned conspiratorially. She stroked my cheek and under my chin.

“I missed you so much baby,” she said.

“I know, I could tell,” I hooked a strand of her hair behind her ear. We drank and chatted for a few minutes and I asked if she fancied a shower.

She pushed herself away and for a second I thought I’d upset her. “Are you saying I smell?” she said, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Yes, you fucking stinky bitch. To be fair, I always wash the Cov birds I fuck.”

She hit me with a cushion and I jumped up, chased her around the lounge giggling and smacked her bum as I raced after her up the stairs. I’d felt cold and alone in a still house 48 hours before, but felt neither of those things now.

Shower

It was our fourth shower together and we were getting into a bit of a routine. I lathered soap over Grace and massaged her hair and scalp, which made her purr with pleasure. I hooked my fingers round her shoulders and rubbed up and down the back of her neck with my thumbs, then moved down to her back, massaging the shower gel in deeply and pushing with my palms, feeling her muscles relax.

She did the same for me and it was almost better than the sex we’d had earlier. I’m a few inches taller than Grace so she had to reach up, but she wasn’t afraid to dig her thumbs into my shoulders and my lower back. She was strong and, between each knead of my muscles she planted a kiss on me.

She pushed me against the cold tiles so my chest was against the wall, then moved down to my hips and bum cheeks, then up my front, between me and the wall, and patted me on the stomach.

“Good Christmas was it?”

Cheeky bitch, but I deserved it. I spun round and spanked her bum and she giggled. She’s so beautiful when she laughs. I put my hand on her shoulder and she sank to her knees, taking my cock back into her mouth. She looked even more beautiful sucking it, her wet hair plastered to her head. I leant back on the wall and realised I felt taller and looser after the massage.

She sucked well, as always, not deepthroating but comfortably sucking the head and first few inches, working the bottom with one hand and my balls with the other. I heard myself sigh with pleasure and relaxation.

She stopped and looked up at me, squinting through the water. I knew what she wanted. I took her hand and pulled her up, turned the shower off, grabbed the towel and walked with her into my bedroom. The cuck was standing on the landing (maybe he'd been listening) and I beckoned him to follow.

I threw the towel out on the bed and Grace jumped onto it. Finally, she was in my bed. The cuck stood in the corner and I lay down next to her, both of us still wet. I pulled her hips so we were in the 69 position, Grace facing her man with my cock in her face.

I put my hands on her bum and pushed her down onto my face and stuck my tongue out. She tasted like shower gel initially but as I lapped at her, that sweet taste of Grace came through. My cock was back in her mouth and I encouraged her with my hands to start rolling her hips rhythmically.

It was so good. She'd ride my face for a while, dragging her soaking pussy over my lips and chin, with my nose in her bum hole, then she’d lift up to let me breathe until I pulled her back down again. I couldn't talk but she got into it, telling me how good I felt, telling the cuck how much she loved it. She eventually lifted her hips and I swallowed the juice I’d accumulated in my mouth, and I told her I was getting close.

"Me too," she panted. "Cum with me".

We did. My hips bucked and I felt her lips slide down me as I came in her mouth. At the same time her pussy seemed to tense and she seemed to fill my mouth. After a few seconds she lifted and I flipped her, threw myself forward on top of her and kissed her. We mixed our juices with our tongues in her mouth, my salt and her sweet, and I wrapped my arms under her and slid into her as we snogged.

I sucked out what I felt was half of our juices from her mouth and we swallowed together. I propped myself up on my hands and looked down at my cuckoldress. I've never swallowed my own cum before so it was becoming a day of first times. I looked down at her, at her soft eyebrows and her slender nose, her strong chin coated in our juices and into her big blue eyes.

I kissed her once again and pushed my cock all the way in, feeling her stretch. The cuck moaned in my peripheral vision as Grace wrapped her legs around me. I wanted to be inside her and never leave, never make her have to suffer his averageness again. My Grace deserved everything.

I started to fuck, not really recovered from the last orgasm. It hurt a little but I kept going, switching between kissing her and staring into her eyes. I'd not put any lights on in here and by the time Grace came again it was dark, the only illumination from the street light outside. After what seemed like ages I came too, not so much a spurt as a spit. The cuck could have managed better but in my defence I wouldn't normally go again so soon.

Grace was graceful (pun intended) enough not to say anything and I collapsed onto her, kissing her neck, enjoying the smell of her hair and savouring every detail of her body. Eventually I rolled off and out of her, noticing I was damp from sweat rather than the shower. She snuggled into me and we lay there in each other's arms.

Netflix & Chill

I don't know how long we were there for but I definitely slept. When I woke we were in the same position but the cuck was gone. I turned to my Grace and either she was just resting or my stirring woke her. She opened her eyes and I was almost hard again just from the sight of them opening. She's indescribably beautiful.

I needed to smoke. I put my dressing gown on and gave Grace my wearable blanket (Christmas present) and we went downstairs. The cuck was watching TV, but he'd changed into trackies and a t-shirt that was too small for him. I asked him to make us drinks and find something to watch.

Grace joined me outside for a rollup. We sat on my damp garden chairs and flirted while we had them. Every word she said made me want to fuck her again, right out there, but I realised if we kept going at this pace we'd be red raw by midnight.

I couldn't resist a smoky kiss and I told Grace she was my favourite girl. She smiled and said I was her favourite too. I felt like a kid with a crush until a whip of wind went under my gown and I felt cold, particularly as my cock was still sticky from the sex.

We finished up, and as we went inside the cuck, ever the butler, read us his Netflix recommendations like the wine list. I patted him on the shoulder and told him any of those were fine, then Grace and I went upstairs to have a quick, functional shower to wash off each other's cum, and then changed into our comfies.

We assumed the same positions on the sofas as we had done earlier and as the cuck pressed play he seemed to relax in time with Grace, who melted slowly into me and warmed me like a hot water bottle. She nestled into my shoulder and we watched an odd film with Daniel Craig and Edward Norton in. I don't know if I was higher than I thought or whether I dozed off again but the whole thing seemed as mad as a box of frogs. I was just happy to be cuddled up with Grace.

After it ended I instructed the cuck to make dinner. He busied himself in my kitchen opening every drawer and cupboard as I snuggled with his girlfriend but eventually the smell of spices wafted out. Grace padded through to refill her prosecco and asked what he was making; leftover curry with rice. She reported back and I nodded to myself - fair enough.

We ended up making out on the sofa. She straddled me and deliberately grinded on me to get me hard then stroked herself up and down my shaft through our trackies. I wanted to fuck her but we were both taking it slow; our trip away had resulted in us both being a little sore. We must have made out for a while because eventually the cuck came back with two steaming bowls heaped with curry.

Credit where it’s due, the cuck is a good cook. It tasted great considering its inauspicious origins but there was too much for Grace or I to finish. We watched an episode of Brooklyn 99 and the cuck finished his bowl and then, having asked us if we wanted more, had a second helping of half as much again. While he was gone, Grace shook her head at me and asked me to talk to him about overeating. I said I would.

I'd had grand plans for the evening involving taking Grace out and showing her the delights of Solihull (both of them) but in the end, particularly after my massage, I was so comfy and happy in her arms I couldn't be arsed to move. She'd occasionally kiss my neck or I'd twiddle a loose strand of her hair between my fingers, enjoying her smell and the feel of her against me. I found myself searching for the time I'd last been this happy and coming up blank.

I think all three of us must have fallen asleep. Grace definitely did, I could hear her soft snoring and feel her warm breath against me. And then I woke up and she was pulling my trackies down, a sinister look on her face, then out bounced my hard cock. Fuck. How did she do that?

Hers were already on the floor and she sprang up, jumped onto the sofa and slid herself down onto me. She was wet and warm and I kissed her as she hit the bottom. Her mouth tasted like curry but I loved it.

I started to move with her, in our favourite position, moaning into each other’s mouths as we kissed. I moved my hands up under her hoodie and to her tits, then over her soft skin and round to her bum, squeezing it as she rode.

During a pause, I beckoned to the cuck to come over. I told him to go in my pocket (round my ankles) and take my lighter, then get the candles from the cupboard and get my room ready.

“Yes sir,” he obeyed. He wandered off upstairs and Grace and I started moving again.

I could tell she was distracted by something. A few minutes later she broke a kiss and stopped again. She ran her fingernail down my cheek and, after a slight gulp said “I love you.”

We’d said it before, but only to humiliate the cuck. And then only at intense moments. Not to say that this moment wasn’t intense, but he was nowhere around. She was looking at me expecting a response.

The advice I’d had rolled around my head. I’d been trying to play a game of not becoming too involved, we’d spent two weeks apart to cool off. But it was true, Grace was special to me now and that word was the only way I could describe it. While I’d been thinking she’d looked away, embarrassed.

I took her chin between my fingers and made her look at me. With my other hand I interlocked her fingers with mine. “I love you too.”

Her pussy squeezed me and she kissed me passionately, and we held each other close. As I sucked her tongue she started to move again, and I couldn’t get her words out of my head. I didn’t notice the cuck approach until Grace broke our kiss and looked at him. He said something about the bedroom being ready.

I leant forward and Grace wrapped her legs around me, then I stood up awkwardly off the sofa, stepped out of my trackies, and still inside her walked upstairs.

Upstairs

The cuck had done another good job. Every surface was covered with candles, the windowsills, the nightstands, the TV table. He’d put one of those 10 hour fireplace videos on YouTube on the TV, and had cleared the towels and clothes from the floor. I deposited Grace down on the bed.

I pulled her hoodie off and then my own and she ran her hands up me. I smiled and did the same, moving up her toned stomach and over her tits, then her chest to round her neck. I grinned at her and she grinned back as if giving permission, and I gently squeezed her throat, pushing into her once to re-lubricate myself and then gradually built momentum, occasionally easing off to let her breathe.

Grace came first, and she dug her toenails into my back and ass, squeezing the cuck’s hand so hard her fingers went white. I clamped down round her neck and dribbled into her mouth, then eased off and followed it with a long kiss. I kept fucking a while longer and then came inside her for the third time that day, this time managing to pump a decent load in. He groaned next to me as he watched me fill her and I cruelly told him to stand in the corner. I didn’t want to hear him.

I lay down on top of her and kissed her again, biting her lip.

“Don’t be mean to him,” she said, breaking the kiss.

“He likes it,” I laughed.

“Can he join in?” she asked. I rolled away and looked up at the ceiling, the candles causing shadows to dance up there. I wanted Grace to myself and my inner child resented the fact I had to share her. She loved me and I loved her, why should we have to involve this loser? My inner adult (such as I have one) realised I was still here to do a job and we had agreed to involve him a little more. OK.

I whispered to her to plan. I said I’d let him get involved but in return afterwards I wanted him to fuck off to bed or downstairs or home or wherever so I could make love to her, just the two of us. She agreed with the proviso that she had control and I’d play along. Negotiations concluded, we had a bathroom break and a quick drink while I refilled the tanks.

I came back with drinks and the cuck was lying naked on my bed (naked dude in my bed - another first). Grace took a sip of her prosecco and kissed me, before straddling the cuck, impotent in his cage. She instructed him not to touch and spread her cheeks with her hands.

I joined them and found a free spot to kneel between their four legs, pushing into her. She was sticky from my cum still inside her. As I slid in she butterflied her legs outwards and caused her pelvis to sink down so her clit was resting on his cage. She kissed him and I started to swing my hips, my balls occasionally brushing his cage.

To be honest I wasn’t comfortable with this to start with; Grace was beautiful and slender and the cuck was hairy and sweaty. But then Grace started to talk to him.

She’d called me cruel but this was something else. At first it was porn stuff, lots of dirty talk about how good it was, how big I was, how she wanted it harder or deeper. It was hot.

But then, she changed. I almost felt it in her before I heard it, but what it felt like was that she was straddling her man and letting the righteous fury of her sexual unfulfillment flow through her at the person responsible for it. It was a side of her I’d never seen and it was terrifying. I could hear from her voice that she was upset.

I stopped fucking and the cuck moved his hands to her to comfort her but she batted them away, telling him to fuck off. She turned to me and, with eyes of flame, demanded to know why I’d stopped. I started again and, realising she’d been too aggressive, she held her hand back at me. I lifted my hand from her hips and moved forward to meet it, and I covered her right hand with mine on the bed. I rubbed her knuckles with my thumb.

She turned her head to me to kiss and, this close, I could see the tears in her eyes, and this close to the cuck, his own too. I put my forehead on hers to block him out of my peripheral vision and fucked harder till we came together. She crawled forward away from me till her pussy was over his face.

“Suck it out of me,” she ordered the cuck, grabbing his hair. If he hesitated I didn’t see it and he was immediately slapping his lips at it, hands obediently by his sides. I was left sitting on my feet watching him, his cock dripping in its cage on my bed (ew), lapping at her pussy. “It’s Ed’s now,” she taunted him. “You wanted this.”

She grinded on his face but unlike with me earlier, there was no passion in it, only anger. “You’re never touching this again,” she said, and I’m sure I heard him sob. I sat back on the pillows and watched, wondering if she meant it. My cock flopped forward onto my stomach, glistening in the candlelight and Grace looked at it. I briefly worried she was going to order him to suck it clean - I’d have drawn a line there - but in the end she stood up and told him to go to bed. He picked up his clothes and, without looking at either of us, left. I heard his door shut.

I shuffled over to Grace and held her close to me, the two of us kneeling on the bed. I asked if she was OK and she said yes, her moment passed. I broke our embrace and moved her away by her shoulders, searching her face for… tears, anger…something. She smiled as if to prove she was fine and wrapped her arms under mine and hugged me again, harder, her head against my chest. I’d love to be in her head. We’d talk, but not now.

“Make love to me Ed,” she instructed. With pleasure.

I turned the TV off the fireplace and onto Spotify**, a playlist I’d put together lying on the sofa the day before, cranked the volume and the bass on my speakers. Grace blew out the candles and we made passionate love under the sheet, performing for nobody and thinking of nobody outside our little white cocoon.

I don’t remember falling asleep. I woke up in the night, cold, and pulled a blanket over the two of us. I checked on Grace, the little spoon. She was breathing softly and I kissed her neck good night, then fell back asleep listening to the wind and rain outside.

Morning

I woke up first. The heating had just come on and the pipes groaned as they expanded. Grace was still fast asleep and she looked beautiful in the morning light. I gently pulled my arm out from under her and put my dressing gown on.

I went downstairs and found the cuck, who never seems to sleep, playing FIFA 23. He’d very kindly washed up the stuff from the night before and had already showered. I said good morning and asked if he was OK (“yes sir - would you like anything?”). That wasn’t what I meant. I told him to relax. I went for a smoke and when I got back we had a game against each other. He was quiet but as instructed he did relax and broke character for a bit, a fair amount of banter considering it was so early.

Grace came in while we were playing and she kissed me, then sat down on the sofa behind her boyfriend, who was sat on the floor, and kissed his neck, then massaged his shoulders. I pretended to pay attention to the game but I saw the cuck smile, with relief maybe.

We finished the game (he won but only because I let him, I’m not shit or anything). The cuck stood up and asked if we’d like breakfast but I said I’d sort it, and then insisted. I wanted them to talk and, although I’d love to have been a fly on the wall, I thought it’d be easier for them if I was out of earshot.

I grilled some sausage and bacon, buttered bread and then typed up some notes of the night for this story. I could hear their voices through the door but not what they were saying, and my literary exploits were a useful reason to let them talk. I cracked and fried a few eggs and eventually I could wait no longer and went back to the lounge.

Grace and the cuck were in an embrace. I opened my mouth to say breakfast was ready but Grace beckoned me over and opened one side of their hug for me to join. I won’t lie, it was weird and I felt uncomfortable, like we were in some pre-match huddle. I’m not good in situations like this.

Mercifully, the two of them eventually broke it and followed me into the kitchen, where the cuck took over, making Grace and himself cups of tea and filling our sandwiches with tomato ketchup. He had no sauce at all, presumably because he’s a psychopath, but did fill his face with a round of toast.

Grace looked stunning in the morning sun sat on my barstool, bed head, no makeup, painted nails clinking on the mugs I hardly ever use. I’d never grow tired of seeing her like that.

The cuck seemed to relax, pottering around us tidying up and cleaning plates. I didn’t want to say he could just throw it all in the dishwasher, he seemed to appreciate having something to do.

Conversation turned to our plans for the day. I’d very happily have spent the whole day between Grace’s legs but we were both keen to go to the gym. The cuck, less enthusiastic, protested that he had nothing to wear there but I pointed out he would be fine in what he was wearing. I half joked that he needed to get to the gym.

Grace and I showered, with only a small kiss. I wanted to avoid the rush. I wouldn’t normally shower before the gym (I’m not one of those poser twats who has to look perfect in there) but my balls were sticking to my legs with the results of our night of sex and we both smelled.

Grace pulled on her black compression leggings and I seriously considered banging her there and then. Her ass and legs looked unreal, and my cock was instantly at full salute. I kissed her neck and ran my fingers down her stomach and over them between her legs to her thigh gap. She giggled and promised me “later”.

The gym

I drove them there and we checked the two of them on guest passes. They had an interminable health and safety disclaimer to sign but I lied they’d already been before and had been through the intensive induction programme.

Grace took the step machine by the window and I selected the static bike a short way behind her. Fuck me dead, her ass in those leggings is a sight still seared on my retinas. I wasn’t sure whether I was more out of breath through lack of fitness or the fact that most of my blood had gone, with its oxygen, to my cock. I was thankful I had loose shorts on.

The cuck was off somewhere struggling with the rowing machine and when he came over to me he was suspiciously sweaty in the cold room. I need to talk to him about looking after himself but as a fairly heavy smoker and drinker with a diet of fresh air and protein shake I’m not sure I’m a good role model.

I tucked my angry cock between my legs and waddled over to the weights where I spotted for the cuck. He’s actually pretty strong but hasn’t got much stamina. He did the same for me (I was worried he might just drop it and strangle me so he could reclaim his girlfriend), and eventually Grace joined us and I suggested we go and try the spa, which was my real reason for wanting to come.

It’s not a particularly well-equipped spa, but it has a sauna, steam room and a jacuzzi. Fortunately, it was dead. I guess losing weight will be people’s New Year Resolutions so they wait until January, and those who were there between Christmas and New Year were more committed to cardio and spent their time in the gym or pool doing actual exercise. Furthermore, it’s in a locked section behind coded doors so the only people who get in there are the ones who are sufficiently bothered to ask for the code at reception.

The cuck borrowed an old pair of my swimming shorts which were incredibly tight on him, his love handles and his belly spilling over the top of them. He complained about his cage being obvious through them but I told him to wrap a towel around himself if it bothered him that much, or take the fucking thing off. Grace emerged from a cubicle and I directed them upstairs to the spa watching her hips swing in her swimming costume as she walked. I had to concentrate on thinking about other things.

We sat in the jacuzzi and as I slid in next to her our legs touched. My mind went back to the hot tub at the lodge. No, bad boy. Think non-sexual thoughts.

We sat for about twenty minutes in the bubbles and I counted the people coming in and out. There were three, all old men, and they all went straight for the steam room, ignoring the sauna that appeared to be empty. Grace, next to me, had been following my gaze and seemed to come to the same realisation. I turned to her.

“Do you want to…”

“Yes,” she interrupted, grinning.

“To…”

“Yes, baby.”

She turned to the cuck and issued instructions, too quiet for me to hear over the bubbles. He smiled slightly and nodded. I tucked my cock back between my legs and we got out, Grace first, then me, then him. I briefly had her ass in my face and I thought my cock was going to slip out.

We had a quick shower and went in, the cuck standing outside. Grace explained he’d keep watch and knock on the glass door if anyone approached to give us time to stop.

It was, as you’d expect, hot. I sat on the lower bench and rested my back on the higher one. I took my cock out and held it vertical for Grace, who hooked her swimsuit bottoms to one side and straddled me, then squatted down. I looped my hands round under her armpits and on her shoulders, then pulled her down till she was sat on my balls, then kissed her.

She started to bounce her hips and I freed her tits from her swimming costume, sucking her nipples. Within a minute or two she was dripping and I couldn’t resist licking her chest and up her neck and tasting her salty skin. I was starting to sweat too although I had by far the easier job, slightly rocking my hips in time with my Grace.

Five knocks. The safe signal, although I’m not sure the cuck meant it that way. I’ve never seen Grace move so fast. In one smooth motion she was off, her swimsuit was up and she landed down heavily on the bench next to me. I quickly pulled my shorts up and leant forward to hide my erection as the door opened and an old man with a body like an old melted candle walked in and sat down on the left hand side.

I wanted to laugh. Grace was out of breath but trying not to show it. If the old bloke noticed anything he didn’t show it, although I almost wanted him to notice and feel awkward and leave. Unfortunately he was there for what felt like ages but was in fact probably five minutes. I was almost willing him to leave and also praying that nobody else came in to prolong my agony.

Nobody did and eventually grandad cleared his throat and shuffled out. “Thank fuck,” Grace said, grabbing my waistband and sucking me back to full hardness again. It took only a few seconds and when I was ready I stood her up, bent her over, moved the hem of her swimming costume and slid back into her again, bumping up against her cervix to a moan of pleasure. Grace braced herself on the upper bench and spread her legs, and we resumed our fuck.

Within a minute or two I was sweating uncontrollably. It was gushing in great rivulets off my face and onto Grace’s back, being absorbed by her swimming costume. She twisted to grab my chain and pursed her lips, and I leaned forward to kiss her. Her mouth tasted like salt and as I broke the kiss to breathe the hot air she licked my cheek. I love freaky Grace.

I held her hips when her legs weakened as she came, then a few thrusts later flooded her, praying the cuck wouldn’t knock the door while I was mid flow (and that he hadn’t got bored and wandered off). I finished pumping and took a second before Grace moved forward and off me, then turned, wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. I put my hands in the small of her back and pulled her in close, our two sweaty bodies panting and hearts pounding.

The glass was knocked again but it didn’t matter, I’d calmed to a semi and we both quickly reset and passed a lady in the doorway. The cuck stood up out the plastic chair and apologised for my swimming shorts, which he’d split open at the back.

We showered and met at reception. I hadn’t really made any plans for the rest of the day and asked Grace what she wanted to do, hoping she wouldn’t say go back and get their stuff and go back to Coventry. We threw around a few ideas and nearly went to see Avatar but decided it was too long (and too well-attended, I couldn’t make out with Grace the whole time).

In the end we went home and chilled, another trackies day, Grace and I spooning on the sofa and the cuck with the controls. I teased Grace by running my fingers up outside of her leg, over the peak of her hip and then down the drop to her waist, then round to her belly button, moving them in spirals and lightly kissing the back of her neck.

Evening

After another sleep I woke to find Grace had turned and her forehead was against mine. Her eyes were open and she was looking into mine. She pursed her lips and kissed my nose.

“I want to go somewhere.”

We talked for a bit about where to go and eventually settled on the Slug and Lettuce, then went upstairs and changed. The cuck, who Grace insisted come, put a shirt on, and Grace went to get made up in the bathroom. When she came out she looked even more beautiful than normal. Black strapless top that showed off her shoulders and a cream skirt that…showed off her legs.

I booked an Uber and we had 2 for 1 cocktails. The cuck again ate a lot and Grace and I shared a chicken feast, then a lot more cocktails (in fact too many, it was more like 20 for 10). I saw a lot of people I knew and avoided the subject of Grace*** the more I drank the less of a mistake I thought this might have been. Eventually the lights lowered and Grace talked me into dancing, which I reluctantly agreed to although as always it was more fun once you started, particularly with a partner. The cuck seemed happy to watch at our table supping a beer.

Eventually we got a taxi home and collapsed onto the sofa. We kissed, Grace tasting of all sorts of cocktails and no doubt me of cigarettes (I’d been smoking straights all night which Grace doesn’t do). We were both sweaty and horny from the dancing but very drunk, so we had a partly clothed, very imprecise fuck on the sofa.

I don’t remember the cuck being there and eventually we must have fallen asleep because I woke up with Grace on top of me snoring and with the downlights in my ceiling on full blast shining into my face. Having tried and failed to wake her, I eventually picked her up like a baby and carried her upstairs to bed, knocking the lights off with my elbow.

30 December

As always, I woke up seconds before my alarm went off and the heating came on. I was supposed to be working today but, having agreed with my boss that there was nothing to do, that consisted of signing on in the morning and leaving a bowl resting on the space bar so my laptop wouldn’t lock itself. I was glad of this and hunted through the cabinet in the bathroom for paracetamol.

I took my work phone off charge where it had been since before Christmas so I could spring into action in the unlikely event someone called (nobody did) and went downstairs to find the cuck, who must wake up at the crack of dawn, this time playing Call of Duty. He jumped up and asked if I wanted anything and I said no. I lounged out on the sofa and watched him play; he’s just over two years younger than me and missed the original Modern Warfare series so I reminisced about playing it in school.

I replied to a few messages, some from my slut ‘T’ who won’t put me out of my misery and tell me her name and some from another cuck I’m cultivating, and then started tapping some notes out to form the outline of this story.

I was hoping Grace (and actually the cuck if I’m honest) would stay longer, but they’re going up to her grandparents’ house in the north east for New Year and she wanted to get packed. I’d fantasised about taking her out and singing Auld Lang Syne while the cuck pottered around the house but it was not to be. After a steamy shower (with Grace), I dropped them back, Grace in the front, although received no blow job this time.

Grace gave me a big hug and squeezed me so tight I thought my eyeballs were going to pop out of my head. I always feel like I should say something profound in these situations but in the end we kissed and said happy new year. The cuck was stood next to us and I gave him a hug too (there’s no point trying to avoid one), then like that the door was shut and I was alone again.

I drove back home, did fuck all work whatsoever, and spent the rest of my day (and actually quite a lot of my Friday night) typing up this story. I had a message from Grace and the cuck to say thank you - yes, the idea of being thanked for fucking someone’s girlfriend still amazes me - and we agreed we’d organise another weekend away somewhere in the new year.

I’ve typed this last bit on my phone lying in bed and I miss her already. Grace’s side of the bed smells like her but it’s cold. I’m already looking for weekend breaks, any suggestions are welcome.

* As with a lot of the dialogue, I did not say exactly this, but I said something along these lines. I definitely said "mi casa su casa" but the rest of it I’m taking some creative licence. This is a story, not a witness statement.

** Highlights from which are I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys, Can’t Get Enough of Your Love Babe by the Walrus of Love Barry White, Kiss You All Over by Exile, Filthy by Justin Timberlake and everything Marvin Gaye ever recorded. Grace thought they were hilariously cliche but they were great to fuck to.

*** I’m not embarrassed about them, it just saves a lot of explanation and it’s a small world.