Stewart, Neema and Mike

This is a story about a submissive husband, humiliated and cuckolded by his wife who he adores, and who appears to have feelings for him. If you don't like wimp cuckold stories, then you're not going to like this one.

Thanks to kjplotts for editing and providing such kind feedback. All credit to you. The mistakes left are mine.

*****

Neema hummed to herself as she stepped out of the shower, water dripping from her long, dark hair, down her svelte body, round the curve of her arse and onto the floor.

After a hard day's work, she was looking forward to an evening out with Stewart, her boss. She'd been seeing him for nearly six months now. It had started as a quick flirtation - something that wouldn't hurt her career. But it had developed - first as a fuck that would almost certainly help her career, and now to a fully-fledged relationship where the two of them really felt for each other. There was 'something' there. They both loved their time together - working, eating out, wine, conversation, occasional nights out on expenses in London hotels and the sex. God the sex! She smiled as she thought of his long, hard cock, that he loved thrusting into any one of her willing orifices - his cock that she loved taking into any one of her holes! The damn thing was always hard! Yup! She was going to have some fun tonight.

She wrapped her hair into a towel, dried off her body, and stepped nude into their bedroom. Her husband Mike was sitting on the bed, doing nothing, but looking glum. The sounds of the children's TV drifted up the stairs from the family room down below.

"I wish you didn't have to go, Naz," he whined plaintively, using the popular term of endearment her Indian family used as her nickname. "You know how much I hate it when you see him."

He stared at her while she opened her wardrobe and pulled out her clothes. Even now, after 8 years of marriage, he couldn't get enough of her naked body. The soft, velvety, copper-coloured skin. The smooth swell of her large, squishable breasts. The curve of her belly leading down to her completely shaven pussy. She had only started shaving it completely bald in the past few months. She'd always kept it neatly trimmed since he'd first met her, but only recently the bald look. He loved it. The accent of her dark pussy lips bringing home even more deeply the essence of her woman hood.

She pulled the towel off her head, and her long, jet black hair cascaded down to just above her arse. This was the signature element to her looks. Everything about her was well put together, but the long black hair - shiny, soft and clean smelling - that was one of her major pulls. To be fair, Stewart loved the hair too - but Mike wasn't to know that. In fact, most white guys liked her hair - it was, quite simply, amazing.

She loved it too. Loved to look at it in the mirror, to comb it and care for it, evidence as it was of her femininity and attractiveness to men.

She pulled her clothes out the wardrobe as she talked, still naked. Noticing and loving the fact that Mike couldn't keep his eyes off her. He'd been smitten since they first met years ago and was as firmly wrapped around her finger now as he ever had been.

"Don't be silly," she said. "It's been in the diary for ages. You've known we were going for the sportsman's' dinner tonight for nearly two months now. It's a standard, periodic engagement. Every two months. We have to go. It's work. I've told you all that."

Her pussy tingled as she noticed him watching, staring at her naked body. She swung her head round, fluffing her hair to deliberately tease and provoke him, pretending she had no idea of the effect on him.

"But he's going to be there," objected Mike. "And you know I hate it when you spend time with him!"

"He is my boss," she replied, "And you know I have to go to work with him. We've discussed that too," she said calmly.

She continued to watch him out the corner of her eye as she got ready to go and meet her lover while they talked. God, the rush! She loved it!

They both new she was fucking Stewart. They'd discussed it a while ago. She'd told Mike she was after he'd challenged her on it. She'd faced up to it, accepted that she'd done it in a drunken moment 'for the good of her career', but then loved it and so had started doing it again. She told him - point blank - she loved it, loved Stewart, and wasn't going to stop. She was happy to stay with Mike and the family, but no way was she giving that up. Mike hadn't taken it well, but what was he going to do about it? She was the bread winner, and the kids, who he adored, would be devastated if they broke up.

Mike was a lousy lay - week, missionary position once a month if they were lucky. He just didn't have the drive and the cock for it, so what was a girl to do? He'd unofficially come to accept that she was shagging Stewart, and now they no longer expressly acknowledged the fucking - but they both knew that the other knew it was going on.

She dressed as they talked. Her taxi would be here soon. She didn't have forever to titillate her poor husband.

Black seamed tights (Stewart's favourite!) stockings and suspenders (Stewart always insisted she have and keep these on while they were fucking) all topped off with shiny, black, 5 inch high fuck me heels.

Finally, a short, blue dress that showed off her nice long legs. Quite risqué, low cut to show off her cleavage (Stewart loved her tits!).

Done, she dropped the dress over her head, it sheathed down her lovely body and rested against all her curves. 'Swish'. She loved this dress. She knew Stewart was gonna love it too!

"You're not even wearing any pants! Nor a bra!" called Mike, rising to his feet in shock and indignation. "You can't go out like that - without any underwear on! What will everyone think!"

"Everyone," she replied, "is not going to know. And you know how I dress when I'm meeting Stewart. He doesn't like the bra and pants. He loves the commando style. It's not about everyone. And you know how important he is to my career darling. Come on - we've discussed that too," she said acquiescently. 'No need being too head on' she thought to herself, smiling inside.

She grabbed her handbag ready to head downstairs. He fell to his knees at the bedroom door, his arms falling with him to wrap around her arse, his head drawn into the comfortable warmth of her groin. He breathed deeply, drawing in the familiar, loving scent of her, his eyes closing.

She took his hands, prising the one off the other while she freed herself and spoke.

'Don't wait up, darling. I'll probably be late back,' and she left.

***

The evening didn't go well for Mike. He fretted.

He tried to work - he had some papers from school to mark, but his mind wasn't on it and he gave up before long.

He tried the telly, but there really wasn't anything that took his fancy.

He cooked - warmed the rest of the dinner left from the kids after he'd put them to bed, but his heart wasn't really in that either. He threw half of it away.

He kept picturing the two of them together. Her kissing him. Fucking him. Probably naked. Probably sucking his cock (which she never did for Mike). Probably giving him her arse - that holy of holies she had only ever let him have once - but which she admitted Stewart 'took' when he wanted. 'Took' if you please, as if it was his to 'take' - which it seemed it was).

Mike's cock was hard the entire time. It was actually getting painful now it had been hard so long. Not that he was sexually excited. He just wanted her back, here, at home where he could give her the fucking she so royally deserved, from him. Hard, thrusting - he could imagine it. If she were here now, he'd give her the seeing to of a lifetime! Really claim her body as his own.

Eventually he fell asleep downstairs.

3:30 am he awoke as she came in. His neck was in a bit of a crick from lying as he had on the sofa. But she was back! He rose, smiling.

She looked a bit dishevelled. And, hello, her tights appeared to be missing. Her hair looking like it had had a brush hurriedly pulled through it. Not the usual, lustrous shine that it had when cared for. But she was home! His!

"Are you still awake?" she asked, peering at him through the half light. "Come on then," she said, "You better come up to bed."

Groggy but happy, he followed her up to bed. They did their teeth and got into bed. She naked, as usual, he in his pyjamas which she insisted he must wear if he wanted to share a bed with her. A price well worth paying, he thought.

He cuddled into her, his hand falling over her mid thigh, accidentally rubbing over her smooth, bald pussy. He wasn't normally allowed to touch that, so he didn't linger or return to it. Just brushed past her treasure.

He reached around her waist, his hand cupping to hold her bum. His cock hardening at the proximity to the forbidden land.

Her eyes shut. A couple of large G&Ts and two bottles of wine between her and Stewart had put her right in the zone. To say nothing of the two hours of sex they had had afterwards. She was falling asleep.

Mike's cock had gotten hard again watching her strip for bed. Her body was so exciting! And even harder as his hand brushed past her pussy. As she lay back, he now gently lowered his mouth to her breast which he began to suckle lovingly. He licked her nipple, running his tongue around it, drawing it gently into his mouth.

She slurred quietly and tried half-heartedly to push him off.

"Leave me! Don't!" she mumbled. To be honest, her nipples were still sensitive (and probably more than a little red!) from the savaging Stewart had given them. Tugging and bighting at her tits like a man possessed! Her pussy tingled again at the memory. 'God that man!' she thought to herself.

"Stop!" she said to Mike and pushed his head a little harder, using both hands this time.

Reluctantly his lips came carefully away from her nipple. No tugging. He wouldn't want to hurt her. His head moved as she pushed.

The natural direction of travel was south, and he didn't fight it.

She clocked it too, as she felt her hands move him down, still holding his head.

She thought, for a snap second.

"Ok," she said, "You can eat me if you want. But be quick. And gentle!"

She guided his head to the treasure between her legs. He licked, as he has done many times before. At first gently, around the edges. Tasting the tang that was her mixed with Stewart, but then, thrusting in more deeply, sucking, cleaning (he did actually think if it as cleaning!) and trying to fuck her with his tongue. Claiming the pussy that was rightfully his, even if only with his tongue not his cock.

"Oh Stewart!" she said, getting into it, and forgetting which lover she was with, "Hmmm, that feels so good baby! Don't stop!"

He didn't. He licked and he probed. Tenderly. Expertly. God knows he did it enough. Bringing her up to her final orgasm of the night.