Chapter 1

My name is Robert Franklin. My friends call me Bobby. I work for Roger Carr. You know him. He's that guy on television, The Roger Carr Auto Group. He owns eight automobile dealerships in the city. His slogan is "Buy a car from Carr". Alright, he may not be the next bard, but he sure does know how to sell cars.

It was October 24th, Roger's birthday. Every year he throws a gala party for all of his employees and their wives. If you work for Roger, this is the social event of the year.

It's always held in the ballroom of The Calvert, our cities finest hotel. They hire a big dance band and put on a night of dining, dancing and celebrating. The booze flows freely and everyone has a good time.

The party was in full swing. The cocktail hour had loosened up everyone. We'd all consumed a wonderful prime rib dinner. The happy birthday speeches for Roger were over and the band had just started playing. The dance floor filled quickly. At the same time others gathered around tables for more drinking and conversation.

My wife Brenda and I joined a group of close friends at one of the tables. People started ferrying drinks and bottles of wine from the bar and everyone was soon feeling relaxed and social.

I was engrossed in a conversation about the local NFL team. Brenda was talking to some of the other wives. I stopped for a moment and just gazed at my wife. Brenda and I were both 36 years old. We were each on our second marriage. We were a month away from celebrating our third anniversary.

Brenda is gorgeous. Her auburn hair and brown eyes highlight the perfect features of her beautiful face. She belongs to a health club and her figure is proof that she uses it regularly. She is a wonderfully sexy woman with a large bust, narrow waist and full round ass that catches a second glance from any healthy male that she encounters.

I still can't fully understand why she married me. At 5'8" I'm barely 2 inches taller than she is. People describe me as a man of slender build with slightly feminine features. I'm hardly that well-muscled linebacker type that Brenda could so easily attract if she chose to do it.

Brenda tells me that she loves my mind and my intellect. We're both well educated. We enjoy quality restaurants, gourmet cooking and fine wine. We have season tickets to the opera and love art galleries, old movies and good books. We enjoy each other's company and can easily spend an entire evening talking and drinking wine.

I'm ashamed to admit that it certainly wasn't my sexual prowess that attracted Brenda to me. My four inch penis is considered small on anyone's scale. To make matters worse, I have a tendency to climax quickly. Brenda cheers me up by telling me that I'm skilled with my tongue and indeed I spend many hours trying to orally satisfy my gorgeous wife.

Shortly after we were married we purchased a large rubber cock. I've become very adept at using it on Brenda. She loves it when I work it in and out of her sopping cunt while I lick her clit.

As I gazed at my gorgeous wife I started feeling guilty. I know that she loves to dance.

I'm a good dancer and generally I enjoy it, but that night I was tired. My preference was to sit at the table with our friends, drink wine and chat.

Feeling guilty, I reluctantly decided that I needed to be a good husband; so I leaned over, rubbed Brenda's arm and asked; "Sweetheart, would you like to dance?"

Brenda turned to me and smiled. "I'd love to Bobby, but I can tell you're tired. Thank you, you're being a good husband; but I know you'd rather sit here and talk. I'm okay, I'm having a good time sitting here with you."

"Hey, how about me then?"

Brenda and I both turned. It was Bill Steadman. He was seated across the table from us.

He was the new car sales manager at one of our dealerships. Bill was an extremely handsome man. You could say that he was a well-muscled linebacker type.

"I love to dance and my wife stayed at home tonight. I really would love a dance partner. How about it Brenda? Will you dance with me?"

Brenda looked at me. "Baby, do you mind? I would enjoy dancing and this way you can still sit here and chat with your friends."

Feeling relieved, I smiled at Brenda and said; "No sweetheart, I wouldn't mind at all."

Brenda turned back to Bill, "I would love to dance with you Bill."

Bill stood up, walked around the table and pulled Brenda's chair out for her. As she stood up he took her hand and gallantly asked, "May I have this dance madam?"

Brenda laughed and said, "Yes kind sir, I'd like that very much."

With that Bill led my wife off to the dance floor. I watched them leave and then I returned to the conversation at the table.

The time passed quickly. From time to time Bill and Brenda would return to the table, check in, have a quick glass of wine and then return to the dance floor. I didn't pay much attention. I was having a good time and it seemed to me that Brenda was too.

Finally, I started to get tired. I looked at my watch, it was after midnight. The crowd on the dance floor was thinning. People were getting their coats and leaving.

It had been a while since I'd last seen Brenda and Bill. I scanned the dance floor.

After a moment I spotted them. They were in a dark corner on the far side of the ballroom. The band was playing a slow romantic ballad and they were dancing very close together.

I watched them. They were dancing like two high school kids at the prom. Brenda's arms were around Bills neck, her cheek was pressed against his chest. Bills right hand was massaging Brenda's rear. His left hand seemed to be squeezed between their locked bodies. From my position it appeared that as they danced, Bill Steadman was squeezing my wife's ass with one hand while he fondled her right breast with the other.

My first wife divorced me eleven years ago. She came home one night and out of the blue announced that she'd been sleeping with another man. At the time of the divorce I was deeply hurt by that announcement.

Later my attitude changed. I still can't explain why, but I began to fantasize about my ex-wife and her lover. I started to imagine them meeting in cheap motels for sex while we were still married. I found internet chat rooms and web sites that talked about cuckolding and hot wives. These fantasies were deep secrets. I didn't share them with anyone, especially Brenda. I was afraid to do that. I also didn't fully understand them, but not understanding them didn't make them any less exciting.