Overnight

"Overnight? He want's you to spend the night?" Paul asked his wife, surprised his wife would even bring something like that up. For at least the one hundredth time, he asked himself if opening up to his wife about his cuckold fantasies had been a mistake.

Angela was horrified at first, then reluctantly agreed to play along with some of his fantasies by wearing more revealing clothes, mildly flirting with men, first with Paul around then when she was alone. 

She began to enjoy the attention from men, went on dates. 

But then she met Aaron.

He was like other guys at first, but then something clicked with him and she found herself slowly going from dressing sexy to tease Paul to dressing sexy to please Aaron.

Not that Paul complained, everything was the fulfillment of his deepest fantasies.

"Paul, it's not unreasonable for a man to expect his girlfriend to spend the night with him," she said, knowing exactly how Paul felt about that word, how his wife being the girlfriend of a strong, assertive man was everything Paul fantasized about.

"When...when would he have you home?" Paul asked.

Angela shrugged. "Late morning; I assume after breakfast or maybe brunch."

Paul's thoughts immediately went to the mental image of his wife cuddling and asleep with Aaron as he normally would, and his arousal grew as did his anxiety, the two emotions in constant battle. He thought of her waking up next to him, snuggling him; he thought of her half covered by a sheet, Aaron gazing at her breasts, reaching for her, touching her.

She saw his face, reached over for him. "Paul, he'll take good care of me," she said.

"The...the kids will be up by then."

"And you'll tell them mommy was out late with her special friend and will be home at lunch time," she said.

"Honey..."

"Come here, sit next to me," she said. Paul sat on the bed, she reached for his robe, pulled it open, found, as she knew she would, his erect penis. She reached for him, touched his penis with her finger tips, smiled gently. "Paul, we talked about this when you brought this up, remember? I asked you what happens if I met someone who wanted to date regularly. Remember what you said?

"Angela," he moaned softly.

"Do you remember?" she asked, touching him slowly, gently.

"Angela..."

"Then I guess you'd have a boyfriend," she said. "And it seems that's come to be, hasn't it? It seems now I have a boyfriend."

"He...he gets you...so often," Paul said, trying to remember the last time he had sex with his wife, sex like they used to before Aaron.

"Sexually," Angela said, knowing what her husband meant. "Of course, he's my boyfriend, of course he gets me more often. "Besides, that's what you wanted, isn't it?" She looked at him, saw the glassy look in his eyes as she gently touched him. "A man to attend to my sexual needs while you tent to my emotional needs."

"Angela," Paul moaned.

"While you support us."

"Angela," Paul moaned again.

She was running a finger over him, teasing him. "I love it when this swells," she said, "I love it when you show me how excited you get."

"Angel, we never...it's been so long..."

"Sweetie, you don't have to put this inside me anymore to be close to me."

"But...but I miss it," Paul moaned.

"I know, love, I know. But that's for him now, you know that, we have your own special things."

"Angela..."

She let go of him, sat up, her bare feet were inches from his erection. "I know it's not everything you thought it would be, but I think it's better than before, don't you. I mean, we're so close now. It's better, isn't it?"

"Y...yes," he stammered.

"Do you want my feet?" she asked.

"Angela,," he groaned, wanting not her feet, but everything about her.

"It's okay," she assured him. She put her feet on him, one under his erection the other top of of it so his penis was trapped between the top of one of her feet and the sole of the other. "I know it will be difficult, but this is what he wants," she said. "And to be honest, it's not unreasonable, is it? It's not unreasonable for a man to want his girlfriend to spend the night. It's not unreasonable for a woman to want the same. No more sneaking out of his house in the middle of the night, just sleeping in, just being together."

"I just...I mean..."

"Do you want to move?" she asked, pleased he was behaving, waiting for her to permit him to hump her feet.

"Y...yes," he swallowed, dizzy.

"You sure?" she asked, knowing he knew what she meant, pleased at his behavior.

"Y...yes," Paul looked down, ashamed.

"Go head," Angela said, "slowly, slowly!" she cautioned him. She knew he was desperate so she was careful, every few strokes, moving her feet away, bringing him to the edge, but not too close.

"Angela, please" he moaned.

"Are you close?" she asked, knowing perfectly well he was.

"Yes," he said.

She stopped letting him stroke, instead just touched his penis, waited. "Better?"

"Yes," he said.

"Go on then," she said, letting move against her feet, watching his face carefully, knowing when it was time, moving her feet off him.

"Please don't stop," he begged, but she ignored him. Suddenly his penis squirted as a small dribble of cum leaked, another, another, not an eruption from orgasm, but little dribble after little dribble of cum.

Angela smiled, having once again ruined his orgasm, giving him some measure of relief but without any sexual satisfaction so without any loss of libido.

"Go on now," she nodded. This was the best part, if he'd had an orgasm, he'd have revolted, but under her expert hand (foot), he's squirted but no more, no pleasure, no release, leaving him more sexually excited than he was before.

Paul leaned over, ashamed at himself, but doing it anyway. He leaned over, took his wife's foot in his hands, licked her foot clean.

There," she said when he was done, gently touching his head, "there, there, such a good boy."

"Angela," he said, ashamed but unable to help himself.

"Such a good little boy," she said.