Consummation

A mistake that normal people often make is to think that there is something called ‘the truth’. Religions say they have it. Parents ask their children for it. Policemen want it. Politicians go to war over it. The truth is that there is no such thing as the truth. There are only different narratives. Narratives about the past and narratives about the future, all seen through a personal lens of assumptions, values and prejudices. And, take it from me: that’s the truth.

Originally, I wanted to spin together the narratives of John, Kim and myself into one yarn of shared truth. But I couldn't, in my own mind, find a satisfactory way of doing so. I am not good at long-range planning. I am impulsive. I tend to make things up as I go. I get what I want, by telling people what they want to hear, as long as it suits my purpose. But that creativity is in the moment, not in the future. Finding a way to spin a new yarn was nagging away at me.

On Friday, it was a spontaneous decision to suggest to Kim that we wouldn't tell John what we found on his PC. There would be no tears of confrontation, recrimination or angst. Instead there would be a tool that could be used to manipulate John; a weapon if you like. Kim would be inside John’s head, without him knowing it. I was already inside his head.

This train of thought lead me to an insight. I had intended to disappear from John’s cyberlife, when I started to cuckold him for real. On Sunday, I had thought, I would simply be Kim’s new lover, slowly acclimatising John to his future as a cuckold. He would have no idea that I was the person he chatted to and nor would Kim.

But I am impatient and I realised that there was a fast forward button. John and I could share a different narrative to the one that Kim and I shared. And those narratives need never come together.

***

It was just after midday. John was barely in the front door when he first laid eyes on me, sitting in his Living Room.

“John, this is Harry,” said Kim, introducing me to John, “we used to work together at Bart’s. He tracked me down on Facebook.”

“Harry Powell, pleased to meet you,” I said, with a broad, but not too ingratiating, smile. “She’s still as gorgeous as ever, isn't she? You are a lucky man, John.”

“Thanks...” John began. 

Kim interrupted. “Harry has to be at a conference nearby on Monday,” said Kim, hurriedly, “and I said he could stay over. I hope that’s okay?”

“It’s fine,” he said wearily, his brain not quite engaged.

Kim poured us all a generous glass of red wine, before going to the kitchen to prepare lunch, leaving John and I to “get to know each other”. 

This was the plan that Kim and I had agreed upon. What happened next, wasn't. When Kim was out of earshot, I leaned forward in my chair and looked John in the eyes. “The time has come John. I am going to make your dreams come true. I am going to turn you wife into a dominating slut.”

John stared at me open-mouthed.

“And you are going to watch me fuck her, just like the docile little boy that your are... aren’t you John?” I said. 

John’s mouth moved but instead of words, there was just this odd gargling noise. I looked at him, fascinated, as his face contorted and his body twitched.

“Oh come on John,” I continued, “you and I have talked about this enough on Friday nights. We both know it’s what you have dreamed of. But no need to call me Sir in front of Kim. Not just yet.”

I leaned back in my chair, as Kim came into the room. “Everything okay?” she said, with breezy anxiety, looking at John and then at me.

“Couldn't be better,” I said. “It turns out John and I have a lot in common. Isn’t that right John?”

"Great!" said Kim, looking towards John for reassurance.

John looked like a man who had been whacked around the side of the head with a large plank of wood. “Yes, yes we do,” he said through a dissonant daze.

Dinner was a bit awkward but I stuck to the game-plan that I had agreed with Kim, flirting and making mild physical contact whenever the opportunity presented itself. A touch her and touch there. Each time, Kim glanced at John, to see if there was any objection. There wasn't. 

After the meal, we moved from the dining area into the living room. Kim sat down on the sofa. I sat down beside her, after shooting John a ‘don’t you dare’ look. Kim and John had both drunk quite a lot of wine, to calm their respective nerves. I had pretended to drink. 

I initiated a stream of small-talk; something in which I am well practised. Kim was blurting out her words like a machine-gun. John talked like an engine trying to start; bursts of spluttering words, followed by silence, then suddenly spluttering into life again. And while this was going on, I was increasingly touching Kim, who tensed and looked at John every time I did so.

I decided that it was enough of first gear and timid plans. It was time to fast-forward through what I had agreed with Kim. I slid my hard up Kim’s skirt, onto her thigh, and leaned over and wrapped my mouth over hers.

“You don’t mind, do you, John?” I said, as I broke off and looked at him. 

“No....uh...not at all,” he said, the words barely escaping his throat.

“She’s sexy woman isn’t she John?” I said.

“Yes, yes she is,” he said.

“There, I told I didn't think he would mind,” I said, turning back to an open-mouthed and stunned looking Kim. Okay, so I had moved a lot more quickly than we had agreed. But we all knew where this was heading and soon no-one would care about nor remember plan-A.

My hand moved inside her blouse and I whispered into her ear, “tell him to get us some wine.” She gave me a ‘I can’t do that frown’ but I said, “go on, just try it out.” And so she did. John responded by silently going to get the wine. “Venus in Furs,” I whispered into her ear, as my fingers entered her. She may have been anxious but her wetness told its own story.

Kim and I began to make out on the sofa, John staring on silently. Kim kept glancing at him, to gauge his reaction. As we began to fuck, Kim noticed that John was touching himself, through his jeans. “Tell him, he can get it out but not come,” I whispered to Kim. This she did and this he did.

Kim lost herself, her pupils completely dilated, her mouth lolling open, as I fucked her harder and harder, on the sofa, in her living room, in front of her silent masturbating husband. It was quite a scene...for a first time anyway. I studied John as I fucked. Of course, he couldn't help himself when her heard the way that Kim orgasmed, screaming out, without inhibition, as I had taught her. And as she did, I too let myself go and filled her up.

There may have been some discontinuities and puzzles left in the old narratives but that was forgotten. A new narrative had been started.

***

That night, john ‘slept’ in Michael’s room. I took something to ensure that I could go all night without sleeping. Unbeknown to Kim, I slipped some of the same into her drink. Thus we fucked nosily all night, with John in the room next door.