This story is the third in a series, following on to “Thin Ice” and “A Slippery Slope” – you might want to check them out before reading “Leftovers” for maximal enjoyment. Like those, this story has a strong element of cuckoldry and wife sharing, so please only read it if that is something that appeals to you.

This story contains graphic sex and is intended for the entertainment of adults. All characters depicted are both fictitious and over the age of eighteen.

Comments and ratings are welcome. Check out my website (there is a link on the Contact tab of my profile page) to see more of my work. Enjoy!


The photo arrived on Sunday afternoon, a quick chirp from his phone announcing the incoming message. He checked the number – it was from her special phone, not the one she usually used. His hands shaking, he tapped the screen.

The photo popped open, a picture of a woman’s bare breasts with a necklace draped over them. He knew the necklace at once, a thin gold chain with a flower at the end of it, leaves and petals picked out in tiny emeralds and rubies. He’d given it to her on their fifth anniversary.

Nestled across and around the necklace were strands of semen. They traced several paths across her breasts, one spurt on her left nipple, another dangling in her cleavage, yet another dashing up her sternum towards her face, disappearing off the edge of the screen.

He licked his lips and scrolled down. There was a text under the photo. Back around nine, he read. Love you lots xoxo.

He glanced at the time on his phone. Three thirty. Another five and a half hours until she got home. He stared at the photo, then dragged his fingers across the screen to enlarge it. Her nipples were engorged and her skin was flushed. She was probably looking up at the cock that had sprayed come all over her. Had it been in her mouth? In her cunt? God.

His cock was throbbing in his pants. He unzipped and reached inside, grabbed himself. He’d been rationing himself, not jacking off whenever he felt like it, whenever he thought of her. She’d been gone almost forty-eight hours now and he’d had to exercise rigid self-discipline. It wouldn’t be good if she got home and found him spent, not after she’d been gone for a weekend at a beach cottage with her… what was he anyway? Her boyfriend? Her lover? He shrank from that word, it sounded so… intimate.

He slid his pants down and perched on the edge of the bed. It was okay to get some relief. This was a special occasion, the first message from her since the one she’d sent Friday night, and that one had just said she’d arrived safely. And this was… he slid his hand down his cock. This was amazing. Everything was just off the edge of the screen, where his imagination had to kick in. Her face, glowing with pleasure, The cock, throbbing as come pumped out of it in hot musky ribbons. And of course, her belly and her cunt.

His hand moved up the shaft. A drop of pre-come oozed from the tip and he smeared it on his palm, using it as a lubricant. He wanted to see her face, wanted to grind his own face into her pussy. But not for five and a half hours. Five and a half fucking hours, to be precise.

What were they doing?

Where were they doing it?

Why hadn’t he said no, don’t go with him? She would have understood, would have known that the fever that had gripped them both, had driven them into this erotic delirium, had broken. That they were back to normal, man and wife, fucking only one another.

But he hadn’t said anything.

He stared at the necklace in the photo. It was so delicate. The semen that spattered it was a terrible violation, in some ways worse than anything else.

His legs were thrusting wildly now. He spat on his hand to add to the lubrication. He wanted her to come home, to lie in the bed next to him, above him, beneath him. He wanted to pound into her while she groaned and gasped his name.

He was getting close. He didn’t want to come, wanted to keep going, wanted to keep thinking about her all afternoon. Not to think about that other cock, the cock that had spewed on her breasts and plunged into her cunt. But he couldn’t help it. He was coming. Her cunt. Her cunt, that cock. He moaned and curled forward, his hand filling with sperm.

It was after ten when her car pulled into the driveway. He heard her shoes crunching in the gravel, then clicking on the front walk and on up the steps.

“Hi,” she said from the doorway. She smiled at him. How did she look? He couldn’t even really tell.

“Hi,” he answered. He pushed back his chair and stood up slowly, his heart pounding.

She dropped her overnight bag with a little thump and came across the kitchen to him, snaking her arms up around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held tight, relief flooding over him.

“God,” he murmured. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She tipped up her face and kissed him. “I missed you too,” she said softly, then kissed him again. Her lips were just as he’d remembered them, warm and tekirdağ escort firm, and a thrill went through him. “It smells like Chinese food in here,” she whispered.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I ordered out.”

“Anything left?” she asked.

“Some,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Ravenous,” she said. “We were going to stop for dinner on the way back but we got a late start.”

He didn’t want to know, didn’t want to hear about we and why they had had a late start. He kissed her again. “You want me to heat it up?” he asked, hoping that she would say that dinner could wait, they had important things to do in the bedroom.

“I can do it,” she said. She smiled at him. She was wearing the necklace from the photo but she’d cleaned it up.

He lowered his arms. “I can take your bag up,” he offered.

“Such a gentleman,” she said. “Thank you, kind sir.”

Upstairs, he snapped on the light in the bedroom and put her bag on the bench next to her vanity, then paused. What had she packed? What had she worn? He hadn’t been home when she left.

He slid the zipper of the bag open. The first thing he saw was the sheer red robe, the one he loved so much. He pulled it out of the bag and, without thinking, lifted it to his nose. It smelled faintly of her perfume. He held up the robe and imagined her body inside it, her breasts heavy against the thin fabric. He blinked, then laid it down on the bed and reached back into the bag.

His hand struck something hard and plastic. Her diaphragm case. She’d taken her diaphragm with her. Of course she’d taken her diaphragm, he told himself fiercely. They hadn’t gone to the beach to collect seashells. But he felt a little queasy. He put the diaphragm back in the bag. Then he heard the loud ping from the microwave downstairs. He zipped the bag shut and hurried down to the kitchen.

She was sitting at the table, smearing hoisin sauce on a Mandarin pancake. A beer bottle was open on the table in front of her, a half-full glass next to it. He opened the microwave and brought over the container of moo shu pork.

“Thanks,” she said. She scooped up some of the mixture with her chopsticks and rolled it in her pancake. “Want some of my beer?”

“Um,” he said. “Sure.” He glanced at her glass but instead picked up the bottle and took a swig.

What to say now? he wondered.

She caught his eye and shrugged ruefully. “Sorry about eating in front of you,” she said.

“No, no,” he assured her. “You’re hungry. I ate.”

She took a sip of beer and blew him a kiss, then went back to her pancake.

“I got your photo,” he blurted out.

She darted a glance at him but went on eating. “What’d you think of it?” she asked.

“It was…” he paused. “I liked it,” he said finally.

She looked at him slyly. “He thought you’d like it.”

“He…” It took him a moment to take it in. “You talked about me…” He trailed off.

She picked up her napkin and wiped her mouth and hands, then took another swig of beer. “I think he kind of gets you,” she said.

His heart was pounding again. “You talked to him about… me?” he asked again.

“Yes,” she said. “He was interested in you.”

“Interested how? Why?”

“Well,” she said. “It’s unusual, isn’t it? To want your wife to go out and fuck another guy?” She took another pancake and started putting sauce on it.

“You told him that?” He lowered himself into a chair.

“He asked what i had told you about the weekend, if I’d made up a story for you. Was I supposed to lie to him?”

“I… I don’t know,” he said.

“He was kind of fascinated,” she said. “He thought you were crazy at first.”

“To want you to… do that?”


“Did you tell him it…” He paused. “That I like to think about it?”

“That it gets you hot?”


She smiled at him. “Yeah” she said. She put pork on the second pancake and started rolling it up.

He stared at her. “Jesus,” he said softly.

“He said he’s heard it’s not that uncommon to fantasize about,” she said. “And that’s what gave him the idea of sending you the photo. He said you’d probably be jacking off in front of it inside thirty seconds.”

“I really missed you,” he told her. “When I saw it… Jesus.” He licked his lips. “Can we go upstairs?” he asked.

“Let me finish my dinner,” she said. She poured the rest of her beer out of the bottle into the glass and looked over at him. “What were you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“When you were jacking off.”

“Thinking? I don’t know… how sexy you looked, I guess.”

“It wasn’t a pretty picture,” she said.

“I didn’t say pretty,” he objected.

“It was kind of gross,” she said. “Didn’t you wonder why I let him come all over me and then take a picture of it?”

“Um… I guess. I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t really…”

“I couldn’t help it,” she said. “He had me tied to the bed.”

He was suddenly aware of the ticking tokat escort of the clock in the living room. “Tied to the bed?” he asked. “We’ve never done that.”

She started to laugh.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just… Do you want to hear about all this?”

“Yes,” he said. “But can’t we go upstairs?”

“In a minute,” she told him. “I want to tell you about how he fucked me when I was tied up. Do you want to hear about it?” She took a bite of her pancake.

“Jesus,” he said. “Yes, tell me.”

She paused. “Is your cock hard?” she asked him softly.

“What? Yes,” he said.

“Show me,” she said.

He reached out for her hand.

“No,” she said. “Stand up and take off your pants.”

“What?” he asked.

“I’m telling you the story of how your wife got hot come splattered all over her naked body.” She grinned at him. “And I get to tell it the way I want to. And I want to tell it while you’re jacking off in front of me.”

He paused. “Did he really fuck you while you were tied up?” he asked.

“I’m not saying anything more,” she said. “Take off your clothes.”

He glanced at the kitchen window but the curtains were closed.

“Nobody’s peeking at you,” she said. “Come on, let’s take a look at what you’ve got.” She popped the rest of the pancake into her mouth.

He licked his lips and stood up. He felt suddenly shy, as if taking off his clothes in front of her were a new thing. He unbuttoned his shirt slowly, cuffs first then down the front, his hands shaking while he did it. He took it off and put it on the back of his chair. He felt her eyes on him but didn’t look at her. What did the other man look like? He crouched and untied his shoes, kicked them off under the table.

He looked over and met her gaze. She was playing with her necklace, fingering the tiny flower. He hesitated.

“I kind of wish you hadn’t been wearing the necklace,” he said.

She looked down at the necklace in surprise and then back at him. “Really?” she asked. “Don’t you like it?”

“I mean in the picture,” he said. “With his… sperm on it.”

“It bothered you?”

“Well, yeah. It… yeah.”

She cocked her head. “He likes it when I wear jewelry in bed.”

He felt a sudden rush of anger. “I don’t like it when you wear your jewelry with him.” He paused. “In bed.”

“You weren’t there,” she said drily. “It’s not about you. When I’m with him, it’s about him and me, not you. Come on, take off your pants.”

He unzipped and unbuttoned and pushed his pants down to his knees, then his ankles, and stepped out of them.

“Mmm,” she said. “Nice.”

His cock was sticking up, pointing towards her. “Can you… touch him?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “Show me how you jacked off.”

He looked at her but she was looking back at him expectantly, still fingering her necklace. Slowly he reached down and squeezed himself.

“He blindfolded me first,” she said. “We went into the bedroom, he said he wanted a siesta after lunch but I knew he didn’t want to nap.”

He stared at her, his hand gliding up and down his cock.

“Actually,” she said. “I should tell you about lunch. We were out with some friends.”

“His friends?” he croaked. “Or our friends?”

“Mostly his,” she said.

“Who was there?” he asked. “Who saw you?”

“That’s the other thing about jewelry,” she said. “He loves showing me off with my wedding and engagement rings, his married girlfriend, you know?”

“Who was there?” he asked again. “That we know.”

“Just Michelle,” she said. “And she already knew. About me and him. Or guessed anyway.” She sipped her beer. “Aren’t you going to ask me what I had for lunch?”

“What’d you have?” he mumbled.

“I have no idea,” she said.


“I mean… I was distracted.” She smiled again. “You see I was wearing this dress.” She pointed at herself. “Do you like it?” She was wearing a sky blue sundress, cut to mid-thigh.

“Sure,” he said.

“It felt right,” she said. “Blue for the ocean…. I think we went to a seafood place. Thing is, we sat down, and pretty much right away, he put his hand on my knee. Actually no, on my thigh.”

“Hmm,” he said. He was swaying, holding onto the back of his chair with one hand while he pumped with the other.

“It was nice at first, feeling him there, his fingers on the inside of my thigh. Then it started to be more than nice. I started getting… hot.” She looked at him. “I spread my legs wider apart.”

“God,” he said.

“Are you enjoying this?” she asked softly. “Do you like hearing about my afternoon?” She was gazing at him in a way he’d never seen before, eagerly and, he thought, recklessly.

“Go on,” he said hoarsely.

“It was a warmth spreading out across my legs and crotch, like lying out in the sun. I wanted him to stroke me but he just let his hand rest on me. I wriggled a bit but I didn’t want to be too obvious with everybody trabzon escort there. I was so turned on.”

“Then what?”

“I couldn’t take it anymore. I got up and excused myself, staggered to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I started to touch myself but that wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted him to touch me, wanted him to fuck me. I just wanted lunch to be over so we could go back to the cottage and start up where we’d left off.”

“I want you,” he whispered.

“I peeled off my underwear and slid it into my purse. The air felt cool and nice on me. Then the bathroom door opened and somebody called my name. It was Michelle, she’d seen me leave the table and thought maybe something was wrong.”

She took another sip. “I came out of the stall and told her everything was fine, everything was great. She looked at me and started to laugh. She said, ‘You look like a girl who just figured out what boys are good for.’

“Then I started laughing too. Because… it was kind of funny. And a relief to talk to her about it. She was really happy for me, for us.”

“Us?” he asked.

“You and me,” she said. “She was surprised when I told her you had wanted it too. She said you didn’t look the type.”

“What type?” he asked.

“I guess the type who gets off on thinking about his wife fucking around.”

“I wish…” he said. “I kind of wish you hadn’t told them. That I know and that… you know. I like it.”

She got up from the table and walked to him. She wrapped her hand around his cock. Her fingers were cold from holding the beer bottle. He grunted.

“Do you want to hear the rest?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. He started to move her hand on his cock. She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth.

“I kind of just want to fuck,” she whispered. “I’m getting all turned on thinking about this.”

“Let’s go,” he urged her. “Upstairs.”

“Soon,” she said. “Sit down.”

He lowered himself on the chair and she stepped away, reached under her dress and pulled down her panties, stepping out of them. Then she spread her legs and settled herself on his thigh. Her hand closed around his cock again and she leaned forward, pressing her mouth against his. He could feel the warmth and wetness of her cunt on his leg and reached under her dress to cup her ass with both hands.

“God,” she whispered. “That’s good.”

“Let’s fuck,” he urged.

“Patience,” she said. She started rocking on his leg. “Don’t you want to hear the rest?”

“God,” he said.

“Lunch went on forever,” she said. “Can you imagine? There he was with his hand on my thigh, practically under my dress and me with my pussy wide open. I was daydreaming the whole time, thinking about what we’d done, what we were going to do.”

“Please,” he said.

“Finally,” she said. “Lunch was over. We all got up and then we were in the car, just the two of us, and I grabbed his hand and wedged it between my thighs, right up against me. He knew what to do. Oh my God. That man’s hands.” She kissed him again. “He whispered to me, let’s go home and really fuck and I gave him his hand back. Too bad it was a stick shift, if it had been an automatic, he could have finger-fucked me all the way back.”

Her lips came forward and touched his again. “You want to hear about the blindfold?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Fuck me.”

“Unzip my dress,” she told him. His hands rose up her back and he pulled down the zipper. She wiggled and pulled the dress over her head and tossed it on the table, then unhooked her bra and took that off too. She leaned forward and pressed her body against his. “I have to tell you something,” she whispered.


“He doesn’t want me to fuck you anymore.”

He pulled his face away. “What?” he demanded. “What do you mean – we’re…”

“I know,” she said. “I told him that wasn’t going to happen, that we’re married, that we love each other. But he said… he said it was okay for me to jack you off but not to suck you and not to fuck you.”

“Please,” he said.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “Listen, that’s why I was so late – we had this big fight about it but figured something out that works for both of us. And afterward… well, afterward we had to make up.”

“What are you saying?” he asked desperately.

“It’s going to be okay,” she told him. The recklessness had left her face now, she looked serious. “Don’t be upset. It’s going to be fine.”

He stared at her.

“Here,” she said. She leaned back and reached across the table, grabbed her purse. She took out a little square plastic packet, then leaned forward, pressing her body against his again. She kissed him then leaned down and kissed his cock. He heard her ripping open the packet, felt the latex rolling down his cock.

“It’s going to be fine,” she told him, talking softly to his cock as if soothing a child or a frightened animal. “It’s not forever, it’s just for now, while he and I are… it’s going to be okay.”

She stood for a moment then straddled him and lowered herself on him, sliding his cock into her. Her face came closer and she kissed him, leaned her arms on his shoulders and put her hands behind his neck, pressing her breasts against him. “You see,” she whispered. “It’s actually quite nice.” She started to rock and bit her lip. “Oh,” she said softly. “Very nice.”

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