Ben is caught by his wife in the act of perusing a swingers' website; by Samantha Cranston.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. How could I have been so stupid? When she is stuck into the gardening, she is usually gone for hours. At worst I should have heard her coming in. I was on my computer, indulging in my new hobby. Swingtime; it's the web site where married men and women can arrange a little fun on the side. Alec at work told me about it. He had met up with some really hot wives, looking for an abandoned afternoon of sex and debauchery. Cecelia by Simon and Garfunkel is the theme tune of the site.
I was just finalising arrangements with a particularly lovely young housewife when I became aware of Jen's presence behind me. I always have an innocent site I can switch to, just in case she walks in on me viewing forbidden sites. I don't think I switched fast enough.
"Jen you startled me. Caught me looking at porn I'm afraid."
She said nothing but just humphed and walked out. It's not that Jen is frigid or that I'm bored with her. Quite the opposite, she is one sexy lady and we have a good healthy time in the sack. It's just that when Alec told me about his adventures, it sounded such fun, so daring. I had an adrenalin rush and a little stiffy just contemplating it. At first I only went on the site to have a look.
I put up a profile, just so that I could chat with some of the sexy babes who were on the site. It was great sending sexy messages to hot married women. The things they said would make your toes curl. Well there was this one woman, Rachel, married, thirty years old, with a body that would tempt a saint. We chatted for a week or two with the correspondence getting hotter and hotter. We met for coffee just to check each other out and the atmosphere crackled with electricity. I was just finalising our arrangement to meet in the Wellington hotel. I had told Jen that I would be away at a meeting that would go on well into the night.
Everything was a little frosty the rest of the day and not much better in the morning. When I got home in the evening Jen had already gone out. I logged onto Swingtime and my worst fears had come true. My site showed that I had logged on earlier in the day. It wasn't me, it must have been Jen. Oh shit.
It was time for some very quick thinking. The only way out was to find an innocent reason why I was making an assignation. This was not easy. Jen was too cute to fall for anything too obvious. Jen had not confronted me. Why not? Maybe she was planning to catch me in the act.
Brilliant. The answer was simple. She could catch someone but it wouldn't be me. If I got someone else to be there, I could say I was arranging it for a friend. I needed someone who was shy, needy and not very worldly wise.
Nigel, he would be perfect. He is an innocent abroad. He is scared of making contact with women. He is so believable as someone who needs a helping hand. Best of all he owes me a big favour. I had stood up for him when he was unfairly accused of sexual harassment by that conniving cow in accounts. The whole accusation had been ludicrous anyway.
When I told Nigel, he was a bit reluctant. All he had to do was to go to the hotel and when my lady friend arrived he could explain the situation. If he was lucky, she might be desperate enough to give him a good time. He could not lose. If she was there when Jen arrived, then no harm would have been done. If not, he could explain to Jen that the young lady had walked out on him and he was merely sitting in the hotel room contemplating his loss.
Whichever way it went, I would be off the hook and Jen would be embarrassed and ashamed of doubting me. Mind you, it was a shame about losing out with my hot lady.
What a bastard. I had an inkling that he had been hiding things from me. I knew that he looked at porn, but I did not know he was using dating sites. When he was out, I logged on to his computer. I remembered the name of the site and got the log in page up without a problem. Then luck was in. Bastard Ben had got the computer to remember his user name and password. All I had to do was work through the alphabet and up it came.
When I logged on I went straight to his messages. I was almost sick there and then. The bastard had been carrying on a pornographic correspondence with a number of married women. Worst of all there was one who he had not only met but had arranged to spend the day and half the night fucking. The absolute bastard.
My first thoughts were to go to his workplace, kick him in the balls, hit him with something heavy and hard and then tell all his work colleagues what a shit he is. Then I thought, no, it would be much better to confront him at the hotel. Then I could kick him in the balls and crush his skull with a blunt object. Then he was a goner, the bastard.
I phoned the hotel and checked that a room had been booked and what the room number was. The room had been paid in advance in my married name. That man will die.
It took all my will power to keep calm until the fateful day. There was a strong frost in the air in the meantime. All this time Ben acted the innocent, the bastard.
Come the fateful day, Ben had gone to work and I had arranged to take the afternoon off. I got to the hotel early, got the key and went to the room. I was already feeling like committing murder and as time passed my mood got worse. Finally there was a knock on the door. When I opened it there was the brazen bitch. She was dressed to tempt a monk and made up to the nines. Sex crazed
"Who are you?" she said. "This room is booked for Mr and Mrs Taylor."
"I am Mrs Taylor," I said.
"Oh, shit," said she.
My language after that point was not such that a well bred lady should use. The hussy got the message. I took a photo of the woman just in case my dear husband denied her existence. Boy was he going to pay. I sat there and waited. Eventually I heard someone at the door; as it opened, in walked Nigel.
What a complete prat that Ben Taylor is. He decided to cheat on that lovely wife of his and then came to me to ask for help. As it turned out he wanted my help to avoid cheating on his wife. Well, that was different.
He told me the sordid tale of his planned assignation with the hot housewife. He explained that he was sure he had been rumbled and needed my help to save not just his marriage but probably his life. He said that he was going to make out that he had arranged everything on my behalf. He then insulted me by saying that it would be believable because I was so crap in my dealings with women and would be so desperate for sex that I would do anything.
It all might have been true, but he had no right to say it. I agreed to help him on the basis that he learnt from this situation and agreed to be faithful to that goddess of a wife of his. He swore oath upon oath. He also had the cheek to say that if I was lucky his hot housewife might take pity on me.
Come the day I was supposed to be there early but traffic held me up. By the time I got to the room it was obvious that a confrontation had taken place and the hot housewife had received her marching orders.
"Nigel, what are you doing here? Where is Ben?"
"Ben? He isn't due here. What are you doing here? Where is my date?"
"Your date, what do you mean your date? Where is Ben?"
"My date, the one Ben arranged for me. Where is she? Why are you here?"
"Ben is meeting his fancy woman here."
"No he isn't. This is my date. He arranged it for me. It is so long since I have had any meaningful contact with a woman, I asked his help. I was desperate. Now she has gone and so has my chance of happiness."
Up to that point I was playing my part well but the more I spoke the more I thought about how things were for me. I started to talk about all the unhappiness that I had had. My lousy childhood spent with a bullying, abusive father and a cold, unforgiving mother. The difficulty I had had at school, never having decent clothes, shy, stuttering and bullied. A lonely youth living in bedsits and then a disastrous marriage to a dominating bitch who finally walked out on me. As I talked I could not help but weep for all the happiness that I had missed.
I confess that I had completely lost it. By now we were sat on the bed and Jen was cradling me as I wept. It was such a warm, comforting feeling. She was the first woman who had held me close for so long. She started apologising to me for spoiling my chance of happiness with the hot housewife. She said that if it was not for her I would probably been enjoying wonderful sex by now and she had ruined it.
By now I was quietly snuffling into her lovely chest whilst she cradled me. She lifted my head and wiped my snotty nose and said that she knew just what to do to make it better.
Suddenly she started to undo her blouse saying the least she could do was to make up for her mistake. Soon those lovely tits were there for me. She drew me in to suckle and her nipples hardened under my lips.
"Get those clothes off and we will see what we can do to make you feel better."
With that she also undressed and pulled me back onto the bed. I was thinking that I must not do this, but, oh God, she was lovely. By now I had the biggest erection of my life. Even if I wanted there was no way of stopping.
She drew me in to her and we were there rutting for England. My need was so great. It was a mad desperate fuck. It lasted no time before I exploded with a mighty groan.
"Well you certainly needed that," she said as she cradled my limp body. "That has got the desperation out of the way. What else was it that you had wanted to do with your date? Oh I know, how about this?"
With that her head slid down my body until I felt her tongue tickling the end of my cock. I thought it was spent never to recover, but, quickly, the probing and searching of her tongue, the caress of her lips and the hunger with which she took me deep in her throat, had me even harder than before.
She released me and slid up my body till she could lower herself on to my wonderfully grateful cock. She rode me first at a walk, then a trot and finally at a gallop until we came, pulsingly magnificently together. The rest of the afternoon and into the evening Jen and I found so many ways of making up for my ruined date. What a wonderful day.
Finally when both of us could do no more than cuddle, giggle, look at the ceiling and relive moments of joy, Jen said she must go.
It was strange. Jen was suddenly quite formal. She said that she apologised for having ruined my date. She hoped that in some small way she had made amends for the harm that she had caused me. She hoped that I would forgive her and that we could still be friends in the future. All this she said as she dressed. She then shook my hand, kissed me on the cheek and left.
Wow, what a day, thank you God.
When Nigel walked in I was completely lost. This was not what I had planned. He told me the date was his and that Ben had arranged it for him. Then as he spoke it all started to flood out. Soon he was crying and talking, talking and crying. He wept for a desperate lost happiness. He wept for all the joys he had never had. I felt such a heel for wrecking the one chance that he had of good uncomplicated, happy sex with a lovely woman.
I held him as he wept and felt so sad and so guilty. I don't know what came over me but suddenly I knew just how I could make it better. I would take the place of his date. I would give him a good, uncomplicated fuck and make him better.
I thought he would pass out with shock when I told him so. Though the rest of him was frozen in shock, a certain important part of his anatomy made it clear that it certainly thought my suggestion was a good idea.
Well I think I met with the pent up frustration of years bursting over me. It was all over so quickly, he must have been holding all that back for most of a lifetime. I thought, well that was very quick, what do I do now? It was obvious. Nigel actually had quite a lovely cock. I thought if I explored more closely I might be able to do enough to make amends for my mistake. It did not take Nigel long to revive.
Funny, the more I made things better for Nigel the better I felt. This was the most enjoyable, uncomplicated sex that I had ever had. It was good to make an unhappy man very happy. It was so much fun. Finally I had to remind myself that I had only been doing it to make up for my error and not for my own enjoyment.
I have never seen anyone look as happy as Nigel did when I dressed and said goodbye.
When I got home Ben was there. He gave me a big kiss and asked me where I'd been. I gave him a big hug and said that I had been sorting out a major misunderstanding, but that everything was alright now. Ben somehow looked relieved.
I know I was only making up for the unhappiness that I had caused but it was nice to be able to do good to someone in need.
Why does that song Cecelia keep running through my head? What was that website they played it on?