“I did it…” she started to say.
“I’m your…” I said at the same time.
We stopped and just looked at each other, before Amanda moved into my arms.
“So, we’re okay?” she asked. There was a worried undertone to her voice.
“Yes, were fine, in fact I was coming to tell you, I want to be your cuckold,” I said.
“You want to be my what, again?”
“I thought about it,” I answered. “that’s all I’ve been thinking about. I don’t know what it means. I don’t know how far I want to go. But I want to be your cuckold, I want to be the man who watches you. If you’ll have me that way, you’ll make me very happy,” I finished lamely.
“You want me to put your cock in a cage?” she asked. “You want me to humiliate you, and torture you, and make you watch me with other men. Is that what you want? You want me to be your cheerleader?” she asked.
“I don’t know… I don’t know how far I want to take this. I don’t think I want to wear a cage,” I answered. “But I do want to watch you. Can we just start there and see what happens?”
Amanda looked at me and blushed. “Okay, let’s start there,” she said. “You’ve seen me with James, and I’m pretty sure you’re going to see me with James again.”
James smiled at us. “I think we can arrange something,” he pulled my wife onto his lap and kissed her passionately.
His cock had not gone soft, and Amanda took as much as she could into her mouth and sucked until he was hard again. Her eyes held on mine as I sat against the wall and watched.
The sun was just coming up when Amanda gave me a shove. I was sleeping in a lounge chair on the deck.
“Move over and make room for your wife,” she said, crawling under the blanket with me.
“Your body’s all wet and sticky.”
“Of course, I’ve been fucking James all night. As if you didn’t know,” she rested her head on my chest and sighed. “Are you sure this is what you want? A lot could go wrong.”
“It’s what I want, but I’m afraid. Please don’t leave me,” I said.
Amanda looked at me in shock. “I’d never leave you.”
“It’s okay if you desert me for the week, emotionally desert me, I mean. But don’t leave-leave me.”
“I don’t understand,” her knees were pulled up under my legs and pressed hard against my ass and balls.
“You have my permission to desert me, at least emotionally, for James. But please, don’t actually leave me once this week is over,” I pleaded.
“There are other men here. Am I free to… you know, party with them?” she asked.
“You have a pass this week, I don’t even have to be with you,” I said. “In fact, you don’t even have to tell me. Although I hope you will… tell me that is.”