I recently adopted the term "confused boyfriend" to describe the main characters in a number of stories by Craptain Planet, Captain Ron and ThePornGuy amongst others. These confused boyfriends have inadvertently let their loving girlfriends carry on with their friends, their housemates and others because the girlfriend believes that she has her boyfriend's approval and she is fulfilling his desires. The boyfriend gets off on her telling him about anything she got up that he hadn't actually seen which usually leads to great sex despite him being conflicted.
It seemed right to add Carl Cruikshank, another confused boyfriend, to the pantheon. If you don't like this sort of provocation, well, you've been warned.
***
I was up on the first floor. My girlfriend Miranda came out from a bedroom at the party. I watched her as she walked towards me, in her dress but dishevelled. She was supported by two women. One had her breasts out on display, her halter top pulled down under them. The woman on Miranda's other side wore no bottoms, so I could clearly see her bare crotch. She either didn't realise or didn't care as she concentrated on supporting my girlfriend around her waist.
"What are you doing?" I asked Miranda.
She eyed me with a wry smile as we faced each other on the landing. "You'd be so proud of me, Carl. I behaved myself, I've only been doing what you let me do," she told me a bit haltingly. She smiled a crooked smile, rested her head on the shoulder of the woman with the exposed breasts and then smiled at her, their mouths so close together. The woman smiled back. "This is Trina," Miranda told me, "and this is..." She tailed off, unsure.
"Peta," said the skinny blonde with an obviously shaved crotch as she looked somewhere over my shoulder as if she was hoping that someone more handsome than me would come up or down the stairs. "She really did behave herself," Peta repeated in a way that suggested that she didn't quite believe what she was saying. This possibility was underlined by Miranda leaning over to her and kissing her on the cheek in apparent thanks for her sturdy defence.
The dark brown woodwork on the walls and the stairs of the house gave a solemn air to the women's declarations. I was about to accept her friends' defence and then ask Miranda what we should be doing next, expecting her to agree that we had been at the party long enough and we should go home. However, at that moment a shrill male voice came from where Miranda had emerged. The man shouted "Hey, where have the girls gone?" which seemed to suggest possibilities not properly covered in the conversation we were having. Especially since Miranda seemed to respond with concern to the man's demand. But then she looked at me with apprehension.
"You go and have a good time," she started, edging back with the two other women towards the bedroom. "I know you'll be all right. I'm only doing what you allowed me to do," she insisted. If only I could be sure what that was.
Maybe I should feel slighted or angry. I knew Miranda would tell me everything in her own time. And I was still processing the blowjob that Caris, Miranda's best friend, had given me down on the level below after Miranda had insisted to me that Caris gave great head and it would be a shame if I didn't try her out. It was that sort of party. Miranda had pushed Caris and me into a small room with a large couch and shut the door behind us. She had even blown us a kiss as she left, after organising us.
"And you are having a good time?" Miranda asked with something between interest and urgency, catching me thinking about Caris' mouth and my cock. "You are?"
"Yes," I murmured. I didn't want her to hear that Caris was too good and was any sort of threat. What, after all, did a headjob at a party mean? The way that Miranda had suggested it, not much I thought. A few guiltless moments and things were back to normal. But here we were, my girlfriend Miranda with two partly dressed girls and a man who wanted them back in his bed. And what should I be doing about it?
"You know I'd do anything you asked. Do you trust me?" It was a kind of challenge, also a kind of test of my care. It was weird, and I didn't know how to respond.
Trina helped me by lisping "we'll look after her," and Peta shakily added "and keep her out of trouble."
"Girls," the man shouted.
"Of course you trust me," Miranda concluded and turned around to return to her activities, still supported by her friends who went with her. "Don't worry," she remembered, "I'll only do what you let me, my good man."
Peta wiggled her bare bottom at me as they left and she also managed to bend a little at the waist and open her butt to give me a clear view. I wasn't sure if it was an invitation or a brush off. After a moment I followed their retreat from the landing but found myself in another dark wooded antechamber which had three closed doors. I could hear people behind all the doors so rather than embarrass myself I went back out and stood at the stairs wondering whether to go up or down.
I decided that Miranda would not get up to anything too risqué since I had satisfied her, eaten her out to what seemed like a pretty reasonable orgasm before we had started to get ready for the party. She hadn't done anything for me in return, but that was okay. Miranda promised that she would look after me later, and I trusted her. And it seemed pretty likely that Peta and the other one were more sexed up and likely to get up to things with the man in the room. Maybe Miranda would just watch. I comforted myself with that thought.
I was working through this thinking on the landing when a woman's voice called "oh there you are" at me from the stairs below. It was Caris ascending from the floor below. She looked pleased to see me.
Whereas Miranda was tall with long dark hair and a body like a large, luxurious Coke bottle, Caris was short, blonde with muscular legs and prominent breasts. I had seen her often enough in bikinis, and Miranda had shared her fantasies with me about what she would be like if she was in Caris's body, and had challenged me: "Don't you want a petite perky blonde, isn't that the dream of all men?" And here was Caris, the perky dream of all men, and she was looking for me.
"Miranda's in there," I told her feeling slightly foolish.
"Of course she is," Caris answered nonchalantly as she took my hand. "Let's go upstairs," she added, as if there was really no other choice.
"Do you think Miranda will be all right?" I asked her.
"She told me to look after you," Caris replied. "She said that you understood and that everything was under control and she'd have a surprise for you later, one that you'll like." She widened her eyes like she knew what it was, something I really would like. Which seemed reasonable, that was the sort of thing that Miranda would do for me, so I accepted Caris' hand as she led me up the stairs.
"This house absolutely reeks of decadent sex," she exclaimed as we reached the next landing. I thought of telling her that was what Miranda had said to me when we first entered the house. "Imagine living here," Caris glowed gripping me hard, "I would be fucking and wanking all the time. I would be totally worn out. All the time!"
We were now on the next floor and came to a vestibule off the landing that seemed much like the one where I had last seen my girlfriend. It had three closed doors in the same orientation. Caris stood for an instant deciding what to do.
