Bill and Sally

Authors Notes:

#1 This story is a work of fiction. All characters are 18 or older

#2 WARNING!! This story is about a woman, who encouraged by her husband, screws another man. Therefore it is a cuckold story. I recognize many Loving Wives readers object to cuckold stories; although I'm at a loss on how to write a LW story that would fulfill the requirements and not include a cuckold. If you object to such stories, you may want to stop now.

#3 To all other readers: I thank you for your kindness in reading and commenting on my other stories. Of course the positive comments made me feel good; it was the critical comments, however, that improved my writing, and I welcome them. (One reservation—if you say it's a pile of shit, please say why you think so. I would also appreciate suggestions on how to make it stink less)

#4 I have attempted to write this from a third person omniscient view point. All who will read with a critical eye and be kind enough to point out errors will have my gratitude.

#5 My thanks to Magnus for his help in supplying the idea that got this couple together.

*****

Dumb, dumb, dumb, was all Bill could think all the while he watched Sally's red Camaro leave a cloud of dust behind as it sped down the long gravel drive between the Big House and highway 17.

The Big House—he walked toward it, but suddenly it seemed to have lost its attraction. Once it meant everything to the happy couple; a legacy from his family, they had spent every dollar and spare hour restoring the old cotton plantation. Finally it looked just like what the original plans called for, on the outside, that is. Inside it was a modern showplace; large kitchen with all new appliances, big bedrooms with a private bath for each; you name it they had it. The outside's only concession to the twenty first century was a full-acre of back yard completely enclosed by a privacy fence.

That fence hid a swimming pool, tennis court, and a practice putting green of his personal design, from the prying eyes of the world. Also included was a pool house-tool shed combination. The pool house contained everything needed to spend the day by the pool, while the tool shed held every tool dear to the heart of modern man. The corner of the yard, away from the pool, held what they called the bird corner. In it was a chinaberry tree, whose branches spread over a variety of bushes known to attract birds. The entire tableau was surrounded by a flower bed, from which sprung colorful plants to beautify the summer.

Bitterness rose like bile in Bill's throat when he realized the most beautiful part of his paradise had just driven away, probably forever, and he had helped it happen.

"Damn! Damn! Damn!"

Tears drained down Sally's cheeks, as she drove away from the only home she'd known for the past eight years. They had been good years too. Turning right on 17, she pulled off on the shoulder and took one last look at the Big House. They'd named it that, not because of its size, but because that was what it had been called in the old days.

Back then Bill's ancestors and their slaves, worked the fields, battled the boll weevil, and contended with the weather patterns that could bring riches or ruin to every soul, white and black, who depended on the surrounding fields to live.

In those days, everyone knew their roles in the grand scheme of life, and played them as best they could. Right up to the time the Federal Army overran the rag-tag bunch of old men and boys left to defend the area. Federal Army laid waste to the entire countryside, except this one plantation. Legend had it the only thing that saved the Big House was Grandma Moorer. She was said to be a real beauty, a woman had been sought after by the rich young men of the Low-country. Many hearts were dashed when Grandpa finally got her to say yes. Gossips of the day whispered that a few, who didn't give up hope, were rewarded from time to time.

She was so well known the Federal General decided to allow her to remove her most precious belongings before his men torched the house. Grandma Ida asked him to let her give him a tour of the house before it was destroyed. The place was so impressive he assented and Grandma is said to have led him room by room until they reached her bedroom. She must have shown him that real good, for it was a couple hours later before they came back downstairs.

While every other plantation in the area was burning, this one remained safe; secured by the General's strict orders. He is said to have called his officers around the dining table; Grandma Ida was seated at the head while he sat on her right. He introduced her, and then warned them this was their last meal at the expense of the plantation. He ordered his officers to shoot any man caught stealing anything or harming anyone belonging to this one plantation, other plantations were open game.

When he dismissed them after dinner, it is said he brandished his sword and swore he'd personally run through any officer whose men violated his orders.

He and Ida had left the room first, and then the officers filed out. The old houseman, who held the door for them, reported one of the Captains said to his fellow officer, "Damn! That must be some pussy! I guess the old man finally found a cunt big enough to handle that fencepost he calls a dick."

The only thing Grandpa Moorer found different when he got home after the war, was a pussy that was a lot easier to slip into. By that time it had been so long he didn't realize it had changed.

"Why the hell couldn't I have that kind of fortitude?" Sally thought "That old lady knew what it was to enjoy a big dick, but she had sense enough not to fall in love with it. At least, if she did, she didn't let it ruin her life."

She took one last look, wiped the tears from her eye, and turned back to the business at hand. First thing was to find a permanent place to stay, and then get her work computers moved and start making money again. She had let far too many things slide while she was sliding up and down on a big dick.

In Charleston John Lover, that was his real name, was still fuming. "That bastard couldn't have whipped me if he hadn't caught me by surprise," he kept telling himself. He didn't know who he was maddest with, him or that bitch wife of his.

He'd been thinking about her refusal to stand by him if he sued her husband, when he heard the "Whoop, Whoop," of the Highway Patrol. A hundred dollar fine for doing ninety in a sixty mile per hour zone, didn't help his blood pressure The money was chump change, but damn it, it was the principle of the thing.

He'd pay her back. Yes Sir! He'd find a way.

"I was a stupid son of a bitch," Bill said to his old hound. Then he smiled as his mind traveled back to the happy days when all was well.

*****

They'd finally finished the house; he'd landed a high paying job at Lover Enterprises and Sally had her computer consultant's job. Her job allowed her to work from home most of the time, with an occasional two or three day trip out of town. Between the two they were pulling in over $300,000 a year, Yes, life was good...if only he knew then what he knows now.

"I need you to work late tonight and this weekend, Bill." The boss informed him about 2pm Friday.

"But Mr. Lover, my wife and I have a trip scheduled to visit her parents this weekend."

"No, no, Bill, not Mr. Lover. I'm John, just one of the team. You're new and haven't been with us during this time of year when things get crazy. We work sixteen hours a day, every day if necessary." He hesitated and gave Bill a long look. "You do want to be part of the team, don't you?"

"Oh yes sir! Mr. Lover." Bill picked up the phone to tell Sally the news. Needless to say, she wasn't overjoyed.

"John," the boss reminded him as he walked out of the office.

That was when Bill found out why his job paid almost $200K a year. They all said the busy season only lasted until June, but during that time everybody ate, drank and slept work. When he got home at night he didn't feel like making love and when they tried, half the time his flag wouldn't get above half-mast.

To fully understand the serious of this, one needs to know something about Sally. A blonde with a voluptuous figure, she stands about five feet eight in her stocking feet. Her breasts aren't in the Dolly Parton league, but they are over a handful even for Bill, and he had bigger hands most men. In many ways she looked enough like the girl who played Ellie May on the Beverly Hillbillies to be her stand-in.

She's a true blonde and when she steps out of the shower, the sparse hair not quite hiding her cunt, it always makes Bill's dick stand at attention; unless he's dead tired, which he's been for way too long.

Don't misunderstand, Sally is a good girl; she came from a very strict family. Sally and Bill have known each other since grade school and he is the only man she ever dated. Their sex life was great, when they had sex, that is. She has never had a dick except Bill's and she's so tight his fills her. She didn't know they came longer than six inches. She even swore the men's dicks were the product of trick photography, when she watched her first porno video. Nothing Bill said could convince her some men packed that much meat.

In May Bill was chosen as part of the team accompanying John to Atlanta. A lot was riding on this customer and if they got the contract, Lover Enterprises' success was assured for the next year; the pressure would be off and the employees could live like people again. They got the contract and John reserved a private meeting room in one of Atlanta's best known bars.

At times like that, men can do stupid things. Of course, there were steak dinners for all and a serve yourself open bar, courtesy of the company, and alcohol flowed freely. Three servers, who might well have worked for Hooters, stayed with them until after the tables were cleaned. Their tits almost fell out every time they leaned forward; therefore the men found many reasons to need them to lean forward. After John dropped his fork and they realized they could see the server's ass cheeks when she leaned over to pick it up, they became the clumsiest bunch of men in Georgia. There were a lot of bulges in pants by the time the last girl left the room.

Bill wasn't much of a drinker; he nursed a rum and coke all night, so he remembered things most of the others didn't. They were well on their way to being very, very drunk when somebody, Bill couldn't tell who, remarked about the bulges. Of course that led to bets, and finally they started a pool on who had the biggest dick; everybody would throw in five dollars and the winners would split the pot.

Somebody remembered a cloth tape measure in his brief case, so he broke it out and they passed a plate around. Bill threw his five in but when they gave the tape to him for the first measurement, he conceded. No way was his average cock going to win. Since he wasn't competing, he was elected to record everything.

He carefully recorded the name, length, and girth of each contestant. Turns out he could have competed with most of them but the champ was unbelievable. John measured eight and three fourths in length and five and seven eighths around. Nobody came even close and he was Big John from that night forward.

A very beat bunch of guys piled into the taxies for the ride back to the hotel and sanity.

While Bill faced the pressure cooker, Sally enjoyed a relatively light three months. She never had to work over four hours on any day and several times a week her supervisor would call to tell her she wouldn't be needed. Those days she had even more time on her hands; time she filled by going shopping with Sarah, her best friend. They say opposites attract, so that must have been why Sally and Sarah were so close.

Today was one of those days Sally had free and she was on her way to meet Sarah. As she drove, she ticked off the differences between them. Sarah was a "wild child" while Sally was more straitlaced. If a man asked Sally to dance, she never accepted unless Bill was with her. Sarah accepted almost every request, regardless of where her husband was; and if, during a slow dance, the man let a hand slip down to her ass, she didn't usually object. Sally would walk off the floor immediately.

Sally picked Sarah up from her house, and felt a little resentful when Sarah's husband accompanied her to the car and hung a blood boiling kiss on her before opening the car's door.

Bill had gotten home late last night, dead tired but game to try giving Sally the loving she needed. It was no use. Sally had helped him undress, ran a hot bath and even washed his back and various other places, before leading him to the bed, where she got him to lie back and spread his legs so she could get between them.

Taking his flaccid dong in her mouth, she did her best to arouse the beast. In its present state she could get the entire thing in her mouth. She sucked on it until it showed signs of life. Moving her head up and down, mouth, she finally got the half-hard dick stiff enough to push its way into her well-oiled pussy. Lowering herself on it, she rode him like a cowgirl. Damn, it was feeling good; she was right on the verge of coming when she felt it go limp.

"No! No! No! Don't leave me now," she shouted, furiously humping, trying to finish. It was no use. Bill apologized and went to sleep almost immediately. Sally lay beside him, trying to calm her nerves. Finally she put on a porn film and let her fingers do the walking until she got a release; not the release she needed, but better than nothing.

"What's wrong with you?" Sarah asked, as they sat in Jimmy's Bar & Grill, waiting for their lunch order. After a full morning and part of the afternoon's shopping the women were starving, but the bottle of wine helped them to wait more patiently. "You've had your mind on something besides shopping all day."

"Honey, you got to get out more." Sarah advised her after Sally explained how things were going sexually in her marriage. "How long has Bill been like this?"

"Since he took his new job. Mr. Lover pays well, but he's a slave driver. When I ask Bill to find another job, he just says he'll never find a job that pays like this one."

"Lover...would that be John Lover?"

"Yes, do you know him?"

"Do I know him? Boy, how I know him!" A big grin spread across Sarah's face and she got a dreamy look, like she was remembering pleasant days. "Honey, I know him well and you should get to know him too."

"No thank you, I know that asshole as well as I'm going to. If Bill doesn't wise up, that SOB Lover is going to break up my marriage."

"No, no, Honey, you got it all wrong. John Lover is a SOB, and a slave driver who won't take no for an answer, but he could just save your marriage."

"You're out of your mind." Sally wondered what had come over her friend.

"At least hear me out." Sarah waited for the server to finish placing their plates before them before she continued. She also refilled their wine glasses. "You love Bill, but you need more sex than he can supply—right? Well, John is just the puppy who can fulfill your every fantasy."

"Do you mean I should make love to him?" Sally asked.

"Not make love to him—John doesn't make love. He just screws you silly. He'll have you so sated you won't care if Bill doesn't touch you for a week. By that time, John will be back for more. You just have to remember one rule; don't fall in love with him, because he doesn't love, he just screws."

"Sounds like a selfish bastard to me, Sara. What's his claim to fame?"

"Honey, He's hung like a horse, has the technique of a Frenchman, the sex drive of a Satyr, and doesn't take no for an answer. Let me tell you about my experience with John."

It started about ten years ago. Jack and I had been having much the same trouble with our marriage as you and Bill are having. I was horny and in a bad mood; all I wanted was to curl up with a good book. Jack would have none of that. He insisted we go to the Saturday night dance at the country club. I warned him I was so horny I might jump the bones of the first man who said "Hello." Well, he thought I was joking, and to be honest, I thought I was too.

"Just as long as you don't fall in love with him," he was a little too flippant when he added, "I don't worry. You'll always come running back to old Daddy." There I stood, a woman who'd been left unsatisfied for a week. His words just pissed me off. If ever a woman was in the mood to make her husband eat his words, that woman was me.

The dance was in full swing when we arrived. Very few tables were available, so when John offered us a seat at the table with him and his wife, Maggie, we accepted. John is a big donor and always has one of the best seats.

There was aura about John that called out to me. One smile from him and I felt a tingling between my legs. The four of us talked for a while, and then the band struck up a rumba and Jack started tapping his feet to the music.

"Jack, Maggie loves these fast dances, but I' strictly a waltz man. Why don't you let Maggie show you what she can do?" As you can probably guess, John isn't at all jealous of Maggie.

"They seem a perfect couple." John said after we'd watched them dance through that song and another. He turned his chair to watch and in doing so gave me perfect view of his package. Honey, I'd never seen its equal. I couldn't seem to stop stealing glances at it. When it started to grow, I realized he knew I was looking.

"Nice, huh?" he actually had the nerve to take my hand and place it in his lap, after he turned his chair so others couldn't see. I tried to pull back, but he held tight and actually put my hand on his throbbing shaft. I must admit, after I got some idea of the size of that monster, I didn't try too hard. Using my hand, covered by his, he stroked himself several times before he released it.

"May I have this dance?" Taking my hand, he kissed it and told me how ravishing I looked. Oh yes, he was all gentlemen. "I love to waltz," he said.

I wanted to dance, so I followed him to the floor. He was a wonderful dancer; together we waltzed across the floor like Bob and Bobby, of the Lawrence Welk show. They played several slow numbers and after glancing over and seeing our spouses were engrossed in each other, I got lost in the magic of his arms.

Before I realized it, we had joined two other couples who were dancing on the patio.

"Let's look at the gardens." He said when both of the other couples walked off, hand in hand. "They are beautiful in the moonlight."

I tried to hold back, but like I said, he was a hard man to deny. He slipped his arm around my waist, and with his smooth voice whispering in my ear, I found myself eagerly walking beside him.

He led me to a bench, where he removed his coat and, with a flourish, spread it for me. I have to admit, I was impressed. When he sat beside me and took me in his arms, I came willingly. His tongue explored my mouth while his hand explored my breast.

"No, I can't," I protested, when he first touched my nipple, "I'm married."

"I know; so am I." he easily resisted my paltry efforts to get his hand from under my top.

"But—but my husband might see us."

"Not a chance. Didn't you see the way he was looking at my wife? He'll be trying to get her in a corner all night. She'll tease a long time before she finally gives in."

I tried to think back. Was Jack really flirting with Maggie? I suppose he might have been. I was thinking about Jack and Maggie, when John's hand cupped my bare breast. I hadn't felt him unsnap my bra, but it was completely loose and almost to my neck.

"Uuuhhh," I moaned when his warm lips captured my left nipple, while he gently rolled my right one between his thumb and forefinger. I covered his face with short nippy kisses, while a hand started at my knee, and with light, butterfly like moves, made its way up my inner thigh until I felt it touch my bikini drawers.