Chapter 3: Cathy

Cathy and I live in a relatively small city where commute times are highly predictable and Cathy, being a punctual person, gets home at 5:30 every day and we eat dinner at 6:00. So, by the time Rex left that afternoon, I had very little time to tidy up, get dressed, and make dinner.

While I hurriedly went about my tasks, I kept thinking about Rex’s promise to “be fucking her all the time.” When I had explained to him that I couldn’t just give her to him, that she was her own person, he had smiled that confident smile of his and said, “Leave that to me. All you have to do is introduce us.” That took some of the pressure off me, but not the excitement. He was going to come back at seven o’clock and I couldn’t wait!

When she got home, I was still straightening up the bedroom where Rex had fucked me. I had just cleaned up the cum from bedspread when she entered the room to change out of her work clothes.

“Oh, there you are. Dinner smells good! Meatloaf?” she said, removing her blazer. Cathy aways dresses with style, but very conservatively.

“Yes, with roast squash and a salad,” I said, smiling, hoping I didn’t look as sheepish as I felt, guilty and relieved at the same time. I was glad I had remembered to remove the evidence in time.

She hung up her blazer and I tried not to ogle her as she unzipped her skirt. She wrinkled her nose. “Kind of funky in here,” she said sniffing. She looked at me suspiciously. “What have you been up to, John?”

I could smell it too. The odor of sweat and stale semen. I hoped she wouldn’t examine the bedspread too closely. Damn, I thought, I should have cleaned the bedroom first.

“I don’t know,” I said lamely, leaving the room. She had caught me masturbating before; I was sure she was thinking I had jacked off in there. My embarrassment was hardly relieved by the thought of what had actually transpired or what was to come.

I went to the kitchen to set the table and finished making dinner. When she joined me there, I was extremely pleased at how adorable she looked. Her leggings accentuated the curves of her ass and thighs, so much thicker than when we got married, but even sexier now. And her braless breasts were swaying freely under her oversized tee shirt. I couldn’t wait for Rex to see her!

She noticed my admiring glances, but did nothing to tone down her sex appeal. Even though we weren’t having sex anymore, I knew she liked to know that she still had what men find enticing.

“What are you looking at?” she said teasingly, pretending to look offended as she took her seat.

“Just admiring my sexy wife,” I replied, putting dinner on the table.

“Oh?” she said coyly. She raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment. “That’s the kind of remark that could get you in trouble in the workplace.”

“Am I in big trouble now?” I chuckled.

“Always!” she grinned. “That reminds me, I had a sexual harassment complaint today.” She took a bite of the meatloaf.

“Really?” I said; I wanted to hear more.

“Yeah. From a man! First time for everything, I guess ... An older woman, apparently. I haven’t got her side of the story yet.” Her face turned serious. “Anyway, I couldn’t tell you if I did know.”

I was intrigued. “What can you tell me?”

“Nothing. You know that.” We continued eating, silently for the moment.

“It’s odd though,” she added. “It’s not just that he’s so much younger ... He’s also kind of small and kind of effeminate...” She chewed thoughtfully. “Hard to see the attraction.”

“Do you think he’s gay?” I asked, wondering as much about myself, actually.

She looked at me for a couple of seconds and then shrugged and laughed saying, “Heck if I know!”

That made me laugh too. But the lightness of the moment faded. Furrowing her brow, she asked, “What did you do today? I mean, what do you do all day when I’m not here?”

I knew that she thought I’d been masturbating but, ironically, this was one day I hadn’t. It was time to broach the all important subject. “An old friend of mine stopped by. Rex Roland?” I tried to sound sincere. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned him,” I bluffed.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I must have. We wrote several proposals together. Back in the day. He worked out of the LA office, but he’s relocating here now and he looked me up. We had a nice visit getting caught up after all these years.” I had thought that up that afternoon. I thought it sounded pretty good; it seemed plausible to me, anyway.

She looked at me blankly.

I took a deep breath. “Anyway, he really wants to meet you. So I invited him over tonight.”

“What?!” Her look of alarm changed instantly to anger. “Tonight?! What the hell, John?!”

I hate it when she’s furious with me, even though it makes her really sexy. Sometimes I wish she would attack me physically so we could end up on the floor wrestling, no holds barred.

“It’s no big deal, Cath,” I said, lying once again. I tried to be calm, but I probably sounded like a whiny wimp. I had to think fast. “He had to meet with his real estate agent to look at some properties and wanted my advice...” (Okay, I thought, maybe she’ll buy this.) “So I said, ‘Sure,’ and he said he’d come over at seven.”

Cathy looked completely out of sorts, confused now, as well as pissed off. “Well, what did you say he wants to meet me for, then? I’m not dressed for company and you know I hate commotion on weeknights!”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I wheedled. “I only said that because of what he said when he saw your picture on the mantle.” I could usually appeal to her vanity; she knows she’s pretty and she likes to be noticed.

“What did he say?” she said, still sounding belligerent.

“‘Wow! Is that your wife? How did a guy like you get a hot babe like her?’ or something like that,” I answered, watching her reaction.

“What kind of asshole says a thing like that?” she sputtered, scowling, but I could see she was mollified a little.

“Oh, he’s a great guy, very good looking too ... We always used to joke around like that ... He’s a lot of fun. But a real nice guy. I’m sure you’re going to like him.”

“You really tick me off sometimes.” she said grumpily. She got up and left me to do the washing up.

When Rex arrived I was afraid that Cathy might not show herself, but fortunately her vanity won out, at least that’s what I presumed. She walked into the living room not long after I answered the door. She had changed her tee shirt for a simple but more decorous blouse. And she had put on a bra, which actually made her more shapely, but a lot less lascivious. I could see Rex was impressed.

“Cathy, this is Rex,” I said almost formally, “and this is my lovely bride,” I added, turning to Rex.

Rex’s face lit up with obvious pleasure as he took her hand. “Very lovely indeed!” he enthused, without making it sound creepy at all, somehow. His charming sincerity actually made her blush a little. (He really knows how to turn it on, I thought, with a stirring of arousal.) She let him hold her hand a beat or two longer than necessary.

Cathy remained cool and composed, despite the pleasure I was sure Rex could see she was feeling. “John tells me you’re old friends,” she said politely.

Rex managed to keep a warm, friendly smile directed at Cathy, and appeared attractive and affectionate while he said innocently, “Old friends? Not at all. Why, Is that what he told you?” He smiled, very reassuringly at her look of consternation. I watched almost in panic. “We only met a couple of weeks ago.” He chuckled lightly.

Cathy looked from Rex to me and back to Rex, “I don’t understand,” she said to him. It seemed she trusted him more than me!

“Oh, it’s simple, really,” he replied soothingly. “He couldn’t tell you the truth. How could he?”

This only confused her more. “The truth?” she echoed lamely, glancing briefly at me before returning her gaze to Rex, searching his face for clarity.

“That he wanted you to meet me. It’s very important to him. To share me with you.”

Cathy was beginning to look more than confused; she was close to losing her balance. Rex gently put his arm around her waist and led her to sit on the couch. She smiled at him feebly in gratitude.

“Surely you’ve noticed how much of a sissy he’s become,” he explained kindly, standing tall and sturdy beside her. “He’s not comfortable in his masculinity anymore and he feels bad about it. He knows he’s depriving you of the kind of male attention you deserve.”

I could see that the word “sissy” had surprised her, but then some signs of comprehension began to dawn. “Sissy? What do you mean?” She sounded as if she already knew, but wasn’t totally sure.

Rex addressed me now. “Pull down your pants, Gianna.” And I understood why he had instructed me to leave Cathy’s panties on, the panties that I had leaked lots of his cum into. I complied, facing Cathy with both shame and excitement. My dick was fully erect.

She gasped when the panties were exposed. “Those are mine!” she exclaimed. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“They make me feel ... um ... sexy,” I said lamely.

Rex, not one to yield the floor to anyone, immediately resumed control of the proceedings. “As I said, he’s a sissy. Don’t you believe me?” He looked pointedly at Cathy and his voice had a new, more forceful tone, causing Cathy to look at him differently. She seemed somewhat awed by his demeanor.

He smiled at her sympathetically. “You see, he likes feeling weak and powerless, loves being told what to do,” he explained patiently. “Much happier being your maid than your husband, don’t you know? Surely you’ve noticed that.”