At home that night, I decided to get a good night's rest, after, of course, releasing a massive stream of cum that had been building up. Once the dam broke, and my flow subsided, I was rested and satisfied that soon be filling Mrs. McIntosh's pussy with a big load.
A day went by, and there was no word from Mrs. McIntosh. From her reaction to my requirement that she get her husband's permission to be fucked by me, I figured that she needed time to rethink the whole idea. Maybe she would back out. Or maybe she would think that fucking would be impossible but that she could get me to practice again on her panty covered pussy, like a musician practices on a keyboard, taping out major and minor themes, with rests now and then, to bring a concerto to an explosive final movement.
That would have been fine with me, too.
Short of fucking Mrs. McIntosh, my pleasure did reach a peak when she allowed me to touch and tickle her parted legs all the way up to her little hairy divided zone. The little dance I did on her concealed pussy while we continued to talk as if nothing unusual or inappropriate were happening, that alone sent me into an orbit of pleasure.
Still, one does want to fuck. And I felt I'd earned it.
On the third day, Mrs. McIntosh called my phone.
"Hi," I answered, "I'm so glad to hear from you."
She spoke a little haltingly, "Do you still insist on those conditions about my husband? He is away this afternoon for physical therapy, and I'm here all alone."
I had been thinking about the option of a secret fuck, but from prior experiences I knew it was so much more satisfying if the husband watches his wife be dicked by a newcomer, especially for the first time. What it takes to get a husband and wife to that point, to have them actually ask me to fuck the wife, adds an entire new level to the scene. Many's the time I have been at the point of first insertion of my cock into a wife, and my pleasure grows when I stop to look at her husband watching us intently as I proceed with the insertion. Nothing like it!
The fact that this was an older couple, and it was a husband and wife who I had known for so long, made this opportunity different. With strangers, I am just a guest. A big-dicked guest who was invited for the purpose of the wife's pleasure and the husband's anguish.
Mind you, there have been a few occasions with couples where the hubby was eager to suck my cock, and their motivation for the threesome was different from the usual cuckolding. I never object when a hubby wants to suck me, not as long as he does it in preparation for me to plunge it, harder than ever, into his wife.
Still, the McIntoshes presented unique challenges.
Back to our phone call, "Oh yes," I replied to Mrs. McIntosh, "Your husband's compliance is required. And don't you think that's the best policy?"
"Well, I don't know."
"If the shoe were on the other foot, wouldn't you like him to be honest with you about his desire to fuck another woman?" I asked.
"That's never come up, and I never suspected...." She was saying as I interrupted.
"Ah, do you mean that you have had other affairs?"
"Oh my goodness, no!" she answered.
"But surely you have wondered about other men," I asked her. "You are such a beautiful woman, and you always have been. Your beauty has only grown more as you've aged." Then I added, "Even when I was a Boy Scout, I used to think of you as I played with my cock, and I think most of the boys did."
Her end of the phone was silent. I sensed that she was becoming aroused and wanted me to say more.
"I've dreamed about you in your underwear many times, and touching your panties the other day was a dream come true."
She was still silent, so I continued, "I used to wonder what you and Mr. McIntosh did in bed. I wondered if you had a satisfying sex life or if you had a boring sex life. I used to wonder what your pussy looked like."
Still silence. So I added, "And as I thought about your pussy, my cock would get hard and long and thick, and the more I thought about you little drops of my cum would bubble to the surface. Before long, I would be entirely juiced by my own cum while I imagined you naked."
At that point, I heard Mrs. McIntosh breathing hard and sighing. She was starting to convulse from my little phone sex experiment.
"Back to our arrangement," I said, "if you can't discuss this with your husband, I'd be glad to come tomorrow and explain the situation to him and ask for his permission to fuck you."
Whether it was under the pressure of her rising libido or in response to my offer, Mrs. McIntosh agreed. I was to come the next evening after dinner. Until then, I was a good boy and did not touch myself or otherwise lose my concentration on the job ahead.
The next evening, I arrived and rang the bell.
Mrs. McIntosh came to the door, and she had dressed for the occasion. She wore a lovely dress with a full skirt, jewelry, and heels. Her hair looed fabulous, and her nails were perfectly done. But, she was shaking with nervous worry.
I embraced her and said, "There's nothing to worry about." And we kissed. As we kissed, my hands stroked her back and rested on the curve of her cheeks. She went up on tiptoe just a bit to allow my hands better access to her derriere.
"I don't understand how this can work," she said to me.
"You don't need to do a thing. Leave it to me," I answered.
She led me into the living room where Mr. McIntosh was in his wheelchair facing the sofa. The room was neat and clean, well decorated with lots of expensive furnishings. Mrs. McIntosh and I sat on the sofa facing her husband.
Mr. McIntosh could not walk or get out of his chair, but he would speak with difficulty. I had empathy for him, and as I've mentioned before he was a kindly scoutmaster to me when I was young. I had nothing but good feelings for him. But I also had to take account of the desires of his extraordinary wife, who had been the subject of my fantasies for so long. Surely, we could work out a mutually satisfactory solution.
I began, "Mr. McIntosh, we've known each other for a long time."
