Neighborly Ch. 03

"Ohhh! God!!"

"Oh God! Richarddd!!"

Ashley was cumming on him again. She moaned loudly, clutching into his large arms as the pleasure overtook her body. It was her third time tonight.

I never tired of watching her orgasm, especially when it was all over Richard's behemoth.

I was standing nude a few feet away from our bed, it was my usual spot during their love making. I pumped my own orgasm, squirting my seed onto the hardwood flooring below. I usually finished in Ashley, or at the very least, on top of her - but on this night my cuckolding was too visually stimulating, and I lost control.

Richard grunted deeply as he pulled his cock out of my wife, erupting in usual and impressive fashion, launching rope after rope of his cum across Ashley's heavy breasts and trim tummy. She squeezed her tits together, watching intently as his cum splashed across her skin, coating her goosebumped flesh and erect nipples. I could see the appreciation and attraction in her eyes as she watched him cum, she adored his masculine appendage.

After the three of us came down from our sexual high, we all laughed, as we usually did. We had been doing this for nearly two years now, and after all this time I would expected it to lose at least a fraction of its intensity. It didn't.

I walked over to my wife, who appeared to be recovering from her orgasm. Richard was standing, wiping the sweat from his brow, and I couldn't help but to notice his engorged black cock starting to deflate as he looked for his clothes near our bed. I leaned down and kissed Ashley, as I normally did when they were finished. It would have usually been my cue to mount and reclaim her, but as I said, tonight I came too early.

As crazy as it is to say, over the last couple years my wife and I had embraced the cuckolding lifestyle. Richard was our respectful, loving, and dominant bull. He never pushed us, at least not into uncomfortable or disrespectful territory. He also never made any distrustful attempts to have Ashley when I wasn't around. He knew his role, and frankly, it was first and foremost as our friend. More often than not, we would see Richard separate from a sexual setting. The three of us would occasionally go to a movie together, sometimes dinner. There were even many times where Richard and I would catch a sports game, without Ashley. Outside of the bedroom it was a respectful and fulfilling friendship, but inside the bedroom, everyone knew their role.

Their lovemaking was always amazing to watch. I never tired of seeing Ashley's womanhood stretch to accommodate Richard's incredible size. My wife would yield powerful vaginal orgasms to him, ones that I couldn't provide her with, and she would always scream passionately as she came. They way she would cream on his manhood, the way she would moan and clutch his body, the way her eyes would roll to the back of her head. There was no denying that my wife loved when he was inside of her, and reconciling that truth proved to be an insane spark or eroticism for our marriage. There were obviously moments where I felt embarrassed, or even mildly humiliated, but I think part of being cuckolded is mastering those feelings and transforming them into a deep arousal. I had gotten very good at doing that, and I never felt quite as aroused as when I was watching the two of them in the throes of lust. Every now and then they would kiss, and Ashley would let her words escape, confirming to us both that she would always be Richard's "black cock slut." Those comments were strikingly racy, and fueled by her passion. But once we were out of the bedroom, she was right back to being my loving wife. No one in our day to day lives would have ever suspected Ashley as a cuckoldress, and that only proved to make our secret sex life that much more exciting.

"You boys won't see me for a couple weeks." Ashley spoke with exaggerated disappointment, using a towel to clean her breasts of sweat and seed. She was heading out of state to visit her best friend from grade school, who was about to be giving birth to twins. I was originally going to fly out with her, but something came up at work, and we both felt it smarter for me to stay home and take care of it.

"Truly devastating." Richard replied, as he closed his belt loop, dressing himself.

"To be honest with you, I don't know how we're going to survive." I added. "Don't blame me if you come back to a disaster." I spoke in a joking manner.

Ashley had thrown on her nightie, breasts bouncing naturally beneath the thin silken fabric. She spoke, "Oh no you don't! Richard you better make sure he keeps this place clean!"

Richard looked up at me smiling, now buttoning his shirt, "We may need to rethink that party, John."

I laughed, and Ashley rolled her eyes in frustration, as she headed into the bathroom to finish cleaning up.

My two weeks of bachelor freedom started with a lot of beer, and a lot of televised sports. I loved my wife more than life itself, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying the carefree evenings without responsibility. Richard would stop by and join me, usually bringing dinner with him. "God knows you aren't cooking." He would jokingly add.

One night, we actually took in an NBA game down at the arena. Richard treated me by purchasing seats only a few rows back from the court. It ended up being a great game, and a fun night, both of us throwing back premium scotch with reckless abandon.

We eventually stumbled back home, and I thanked him as we said our goodbyes for the evening. I made a mental note that I'd have to pay him back somehow. Suddenly, and to my amusement, I remembered he was regularly sleeping with my wife - and I jokingly told myself that we'd call it even.

As I began getting ready for bed, Ashley called.

"Hey baby." She spoke, seemingly happy to hear my voice. "What did you get into tonight?"

"Richard and I went to the game." I paused, appreciating the night, "It was actually a lot of fun."

I could hear her smile through the phone. "That's nice. I bet the two of you had a ton of female attention."

"Well you know me. Luckily Richard was there to keep them at bay. At one point he had to shove away three separate girls who were trying to get to me."

That comment garnered a loud laugh from Ashley, "Yeah, I'm sure that's exactly how it went."

I chuckled, and she continued. "Do me a favor and open my nightstand babe. I wanted to give Erica the name of the author from that book I'm reading."

I rolled across the bed, pulling open the drawer below and picking up the book in question, "Roberta Henrikson" I replied.

I heard the commotion of female voices in the background as she told one of them the name, and then she replied to me, "Thanks baby. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Love you."

"Love you too." I replied.

As I moved to place the book back in the nightstand something caught my eye. It was my wife's diary, barely visible beneath another large novel. I picked it up, driven by curiosity. I knew my wife kept a diary, and I knew she wrote in it often. It was strange to me, a grown woman still keeping one, but I suppose it wasn't unheard of.

I don't know why I opened it, but I did. I'd like to blame it on the scotch, but I knew there was a deeper curiosity there as well.

I flipped the pages, getting a general sense of the span of the book. It was a massive composition type binding, more a tomb really. It spanned multiple years, dating back to before we were even married. I don't know why I did what I did, but my instinct carried my thumbs, moving the pages back to a couple years ago, when we first moved in to the apartment. I quickly found the date that I was subconsciously looking for, and my mouth went dry as I read the first sentence.

-----

I slept with Richard last night!

Slept with isn't the correct wording actually - Richard fucked me last night - and John watched!

I still can't believe it actually happened... It was just so unbelievably exciting!

I never would have imagined I would ever have sex with another man, a man who wasn't John (who I love with all my heart), but when I saw Richard's cock, it's like my instincts took over - I lost control!

I was doing some reading this morning, and was relieved to see that what we did is becoming more and more common among married couples. "Cuckolding", I guess is what we did. It's kind of naughty to think that John would enjoy watching me with a bigger cock (and trust me, he did!)

Cock! I can't believe I'm writing that word, up until recently I never even used it. Up until Richard everything had been a dick, or a wiener - lol. But not with him, that man, has a COCK.

My mind can't stop picturing it. It was just so big! My roommate in college would always tease me by showing me pictures of big black cocks, and even though I would pretend they were gross, deep down they always excited me. I think any woman who's ever seen one would know what I'm talking about. I guess all those times left an impression on me, and when I saw Richard's, in real life - it was just so manly to look at - I can't explain it!

Don't get me wrong, I love John, and I love Johns dick. He's technically above average, I think. But Richard - It's not even a fair comparison, the man has a gift from the gods!

And I can't even begin to describe the sex. No man has ever come close to fucking me as good as Richard did last night. I had an orgasm so intense that I literally lost control of my body, it was amazing! My god, I'm getting soaking wet just thinking about it!

-----

I had finished reading the page of words, and I noticed that my mouth was agape, and my dick was fully erect. Even a thousand miles away, my wife was still able to drive me crazy. I pulled out my dick and began stroking as I continued to read her intimate thoughts. It was a shameful move, but I was simply too intrigued to stop, too aroused. I flipped ahead to another passage. This one was more recent.

-----

Lately, I have been having wild fantasies while having sex with Richard. I never feel more like a woman than when he's inside me (as much as that makes me blush to admit!), but it's been going even further than that recently. It's like sex with him unhinges my mind, and allows me to think wild, sexual thoughts!

I know it sounds silly, but sometimes I fantasize that I'm a Queen of some sort.

(I'm blushing as I write this, but I don't care!)

John is my King, and Richard is an invading conqueror.

Richard invades, and defeats John. He has me prepared on our bed. I protest, John protests, but it doesn't matter - Richard is now the ruler.

Richard removes his clothes, and his huge black cock hangs there. He's much, much bigger than John. He knows it. I know it. John knows it. My protest slowly relents as my womanly instincts take hold of my body. This man has defeated my husband. His body, and his cock are much larger than his as well. He is, by every measure, a more masculine and attractive man (only in my fantasy!).

I feel the wetness between my legs, to my initial shame. My husband looks on in horror, but ultimately accepts his fate.

I surrender to Richard, opening my legs, silken fabrics falling to the side and exposing my kitty to him.

John watches as Richard conquers me. His huge cock stretches me out as he invades me, I try to prevent the moans, but its hopeless - it feels too good. The screams echo the room as he fucks me. I wrap my legs around his lower back and surrender to him completely (This is one of my favorite things to do in real life. It's like Richard is the alpha male and I'm latching on to him giving him what's his to take!). The lovemaking is intense, and the three of us know I'm getting fucked better than I ever have by John. He looks on in anguish as my orgasms start to sweep over me.

(In real life John looks at me with such a longing, like he's never more attracted to me than when Richard is fucking me, it only helps reinforce this ridiculous fantasy!)

I cum hard, over and over again, all over Richard's manly cock. I look into my husbands eyes, my conquered King, as Richard roars, cumming deep inside me!

Obviously once we are out of the bedroom, those ridiculous fantasies fade away. I love and respect John more than any man alive. But in the moment, Richard does something to me, and cuckolding John sends my mind into overdrive. It's like high risk role play, and it's so unbelievably exciting!

-----

Her impossibly erotic diary entry was too much, and I came violently all over myself and our bed.

I leaned back into my pillows, delirious. I couldn't believe how arousing it was to read the naughty thoughts within the mind of my wife. To be honest, a part of me was relieved. In weaker moments I wondered if she ever wanted more out of her relationship with Richard, in really weak moments I wondered if she would leave me. After reading her fantasies though, everything that happened with him in the bedroom, seemed destined to stay in the bedroom. It was strange, but I fell even deeper in love with Ashley after reading her diary that night. I vowed to never open the book again, and quickly tossed it back in her nightstand drawer. Although I did cum to the memory of her erotic description nearly every night until she returned from her trip.

She was home the following week, and I couldn't help but recall that diary entry when we were back in bed together. The memory of it caused me to cum too quickly.

"Jesus. I'm sorry." I said, finishing my eruption insider her.

She clutched my back and kissed me. "It's okay baby."

"Maybe I should go get Richard to finish the job." I added, jokingly. It was a typical joking comment that I made when I felt that she wasn't completely satisfied with my efforts.

"No John. Stop." Her voice was suddenly curt.

It confused me, and I replied, "Huh? Everything okay?"

She appeared to mull over her thoughts for a moment, and then replied, "I think I want to take a break from seeing Richard for awhile. In the bedroom, I mean."

My initial reaction was disappointment, which in itself confused me. My feelings soon turned to concern, however.

"Is everything okay Ash? I know you love fucking him, I'm just wond-"

"I want to have a baby John." Her eyes were earnest and loving. Her words caught me completely off guard.

I looked into her eyes, silently, and then kissed her deep. "Okay." I replied, with love and excitement. It was sudden, and without warning - although I was certain that the trip and her friend had inspired her. I was surprised by the immense excitement I felt, and knew this would be the start of a new chapter for us.

Ashley stopped birth control a few days later, and a few days after that, I broke the news to Richard. Part of me expected him to be disappointed, maybe even masking some anger. I knew he loved bedding Ashley, so I couldn't help but wonder how he would truly react.

He nearly broke my back with how hard he hugged me.

"That's incredible John! I'm damn happy for the both of you!" I had never seen the man so enthusiastic.

My next sentence, was harder to speak. "Pretty much means we're - Uh - Gonna take it easy on the bedroom antics for awhile." I didn't know how to phrase it.

Richard gave me a look that more or less said, "No shit genius." But he laughed following it.

"Yeah, I'd assume as much." He paused, continuing, "No worries. I have the memories for those late nights by myself."

I joked, "With the amount that you nut when you're with Ashley, I figured you never masturbated." My comment caused a deep laugh from Richard.

A part of me loved these open, absurd conversations with our friend and bull. And that same part of me was going to miss them. Another part of me wondered if this was the end of our wild cuckolding adventure. Ultimately though, my desire to start a family was far more important than satisfying any sexual kink that my wife and I had developed. I knew Ashley felt the same.

Ashley and I fucked like rabbits for the first few months that she was off birth control. We still made teasing references to Richard during our love making. She would even make daring comments about the prospect of calling him over to finish the job, if I couldn't "stick the landing". In the moment, those erotic teases would always cause us both excitement, and we knew they were simply in good fun. Unfortunately, though, we would soon come to deeply regret them.

It wasn't until the sixth month of attempts that I learned of my condition. I thought back to a peewee football game in fourth grade. I took a cleated kick so hard to my groin that I was in the hospital for two weeks. I vaguely recall the potential impact to my sperm development, but to hear it spelled out for me in reality - it crushed me.

It crushed Ashley too.

There were many tears shed that day and the days following. It pains me to say that I began drinking heavily, unable to cope. It was mental torture, having to reconcile the reality of sterility. I would curse myself, somehow blaming my cuckolding fetish, convincing myself that I deserved it. In weak and drunken moments I would admit the same to Ashley, which caused her deep sorrow. She would insist that it was a ridiculous notion, one time even slapping me across the face, telling me to stop feeling sorry for myself - telling me that she still loved me and that this changed nothing for her. She even mentioned adoption, but I wasn't ready to think about alternatives yet.

Strangely, it wasn't until Richard found out, that my mental state started to improve.

"I heard about your condition John." His voice was direct, and honest. He had invited me out for breakfast, to which I begrudgingly accepted. I cringed at the thought of my wife talking about my sterility to our former bull. I hated myself.

I just shook my head, defeated, replying, "Yeah."

"You can't let this beat you John. I won't allow it." He urged.

"It's already beaten me Richard. I can't have kids. I'm sterile. There's no way to 'beat' it." I added air quotes for emphasis. I was in no mood to listen to pipe dream positivity.

"God damnit John. That's not what makes a man." He raised his voice, seemingly frustrated by my attitude.

"What makes a man than Richard, when he enjoys the sight of his wife with another man?" I blurted, not meaning it, but lashing out regardless. Thankfully, no one near us heard.

He was taken aback by my comment, and was silent for a moment. He finally spoke, "It kills me to see you like this."

We both sat in silence for a few more minutes, sipping on our coffee.

"You know George Washington was sterile." He added, clearly searching for any words that might comfort me.

"Yes. I know. My doctor told me the same thing." I took another sip of coffee. "Who gives a fuck about George Washington?"

"I suppose you're right." He conceded.

We sat again in silence again, this time for longer. I glanced up at him a few times, and could tell he was mulling over something heavy. His eyes were filled with the strife of a painful memory.

He spoke again, but this time in a tone that was somehow different. "I've never told anyone this John, so listen up." He paused, taking another sip of his coffee, eventually continuing, his words as heavy as I'd ever heard them.

"My wife was barren. It was one of her many medical complications."

The revelation stunned me.

"Candice and I tried and tried - for years. We didn't even visit a doctor until a fifth year without success." He paused again, sighing. "But you know what?"

"What?" I replied, genuinely curious.

"She's the best human being I've ever known, by miles. I don't think even one fraction less of that woman for not being able to bear my children. I've told you before, she was my heart, and those struggles, among others, only proved to bring us together." He paused, eyes full of emotion. "I suggest you do the same with Ashley."