"What are we going to do now, Chuck?" asked a teary-eyed Janice. "I really should divorce him, if I had any pride left. It's just that I think I still have feelings for him. I'm just not sure if it's enough."
"I know exactly what you mean, Janice. Logically speaking, we should shoot them both and make it look like a murder-suicide," I suggested. "We both know neither of us would ever do that, even with all the provocation they've given us."
"They probably know we don't have the nerve to do something like that. Shit, we're the doormats, the wind beneath their wings, so to speak," sobbed Janice. "They really weren't taking much of a chance, you know? They have no doubt we'll accept their cheating and not do anything about it. They're the predators and we're the prey."
Janice and I were having a discussion about our spouses and the fact that they were fucking like bunnies in Janice's bedroom at that very moment. Bridget, my wife, had a very good job with an advertising agency. She was a strong minded career woman that had always dominated our marriage.
Janice's husband, Roger, owned a successful construction company. He was accustomed to people jumping when he said "frog". Janice had lived in his shadow the entire 22 years they had been married. Their two kids were in college in California so their nest was empty. Our only daughter was working in her first year as a history teacher in Minnesota.
Janice, Roger, Bridget, and I had been an unlikely foursome, but we had socialized a lot over the past ten years. Roger was a big blustering fellow a couple years shy of fifty, and Bridget was a beautiful woman in her mid forties, although she looked years younger. They looked good together, but they weren't married. At least they weren't married to each other. That's where Janice and I came into the picture.
I was thin and wiry, weighing in at 170 and not quite six foot tall. Compared to Roger, I looked like an anemic weakling. Janice was a couple inches over five feet tall and probably weighed fifteen pounds more than her ideal weight. She wore her brown hair short and used little makeup. Her ass was nicely rounded in my opinion, but way too big if you used those supermodels, or even Bridget, as the standard that women should emulate.
Janice had revealed her suspicions to me a couple of weeks ago. We had little trouble hatching a scheme to prove her theory. She told Roger she was going to visit her cousin in south Jersey for the weekend. I told Bridget that I had to go to Harrisburg to meet with a client and wouldn't be back until Sunday afternoon.
Janice and I had actually agreed to meet at the local mall Friday evening. We watched a movie, had a nice dinner at a local Red Lobster and then drove back to our street after dark. Our houses were on the same block, with just one home between them.
Janice quietly let us in her front door. Before we even started up the stairs, we could hear Bridget's moans emanating from the master bedroom. Roger was also quite vocal as he urged her to suck his "big cock" before he stuffed it in her "tight cunt". Bridget never allowed me to talk to her like that.
We listened to them for a few minutes and went back downstairs and left. Now we were sitting in my living room, trying to determine what course of action we should take. I couldn't help but wonder why we hadn't addressed that eventuality at dinner. We knew we would catch them in bed together, but we never attempted to formulate a plan as to what we would do afterwards.
"If Bridget wants Roger, it'll be a moot point, anyway," whined Janice. "I outweigh her, but she's taller, slimmer, has bigger tits, and an important job. He'll just toss my ass to the curb and keep her. She's the goddamn sex goddess and I'm just a freakin' butterball."
"Well, I don't know about that, Janice. Bridget looks great all the time, but she isn't exactly a human dynamo in the sack. If Roger hasn't figured that out, he will once his testosterone get back to normal levels," I predicted.
"She's a walking wet dream! She can't be a bad fuck, even if she just lays there, for God's sake!" blurted Janice.
"Well that explains why she just lays there, doesn't it? She knows she's drop dead gorgeous and feels she doesn't have to make any effort," I revealed. "Think how I feel. If Bridget ever comes back to me, I'll have to follow Roger's "big cock". She won't even be able to tell if I have it inside her after being with him. He's hitting places I'll need a baseball bat to touch."
"A big cock does not a great lover make, for your information, Chuck. He thinks all he has to do is let a woman see and touch it and she'll have an orgasm. Then, if he squeezes the damn thing into a woman, she should make a sizeable charitable donation in his name. You should be happy Roger is allowing Bridget time with his horse cock. You can only look good in any unbiased comparison," stated Janice between sniffles.
"Thanks, Janice. I appreciate any boost to my ego I can get. I know I can't compete with Roger's cock. Shit, he's referred to it often enough. It's like it was his best friend and the fifth person when we went out with you guys. It's very daunting to a man with an average dick," I lamented.
"That should be on that show "Myth Busters". Get a few guys like Roger to fuck a couple women and then some nice guys like you to make love to them and at the end of the show the ladies can tell the audience which they preferred. The guys like you would win hands down, Chuck," Janice stated firmly.
"That sounds like a great idea! Then they could have some studs climb on Bridget and a couple more women like her. After they get recharged, let a couple women like you fuck their brains out and see who they think is the better lay!" I chuckled, even though I was being cuckolded as I spoke.
"Do you really think I could compare with Bridget in bed?" asked Janice.
"No, not really," I answered straight faced.
Janice's chin dropped and tears began to trickle down her cheeks again.
"There would be no comparison, Janice. You'd beat her hands down, tits up, ass over, whatever," I laughed, feeling better about my situation for some reason. "I told you, she's an uninspired lover, at best."
"Why do you think I'd be any better than Bridget?" quizzed Janice. "You and I've certainly never slept together and Roger wouldn't ever have bragged me up. He's never even complimented me in that area. It's always all about the two of them, Roger and his cock."
"There are several reasons why I think you'd be better than her, Janice. You're intelligent and fun loving. You like to laugh and to make others laugh. You're the type that gives, while Bridget takes. You have the kind of figure that appeals to most men, and you're unselfish. I'm confident you'd win any comparison," I finished.
"Wow, Chuck! You make me feel pretty good," smiled Janice. "You think a man would want to sleep with me and not be repulsed because I'm overweight and dull?"
"Are you kidding? You're a lot of fun and you have nice curves. We're in our forties, Janice. We don't have to look like we did when we were twenty, but you still look great. Guys my age, for the most part, aren't looking for some skinny-assed bimbo. We want a woman that enjoys sex, and then can have a discussion, or go golfing, or go out to dinner with a man and have a good time."
"You're really a nice guy, Chuck," observed Janice. "I wish I had found someone like you instead of Roger. More precisely, I wish I had found you, if I may be so bold."
"That's great for my ego, Janice, but I wouldn't dare try to follow Roger with a woman. I'd be a major disappointment. You'd never even know if I was in the right general area," I replied dejectedly.
"I guess you must think my pussy is like the fucking Holland Tunnel!" exclaimed Janice. "It's so disfigured it wouldn't even feel a normal cock! Thanks for those kind words!"
"No, Janice! I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you're used to more than I have. You would be disappointed. That's all I'm saying," I quickly responded.
"Why don't you let me be the judge of what I feel, and what I don't feel, Chuck?" demanded Janice. "Why don't you try to seduce me if you think I'd be such a great sex partner, or was that all bullshit? Maybe after sleeping with Bridget all these years, you think I'd be a sloppy piece of ass not worth your effort?"
I stepped up to Janice and kissed her hard. I ran my hands over her round bottom as I pulled her to me. She moaned into my mouth. When we came up for air, she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward my bedroom.
She unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off me. The she kissed me again as she unbuckled my belt and pulled my zipper down. My pants fell to the floor and pooled around my ankles. She dropped to her knees in front of me and untied my shoes and pulled them off my feet. My socks quickly followed.
I reached down and helped her to her feet and unbuttoned her blouse. Her skin was smooth and milky white. I slowly removed her blouse and unsnapped her brassier. Her tits sprang free and I couldn't conceal my surprise. Janice noticed it.
"What's wrong, Chuck? Are they too small? I know one nipple is a little bigger than the other, but that's not so unusual. Is it?" questioned a worried Janice.
"What's wrong? I think your breasts are a little bigger than Bridget's," I revealed. "All this time, Bridget gave the impression hers were bigger, but they aren't. Your tits are beautiful!"
.... There is more of this story ...