Watching My Gay Husband Cheat

by Hank Wilder

  Allen shakes his head and then continues out the front door. “No thanks, I’ll be fine.”

  I watch through the window as my husband makes his way through the yard and over to the driveway, where his car is parked. My heart is slamming hard in my chest now, although I’m not exactly sure why. Something strange is definitely going on, but I can’t quite put my finger on the specifics of this manipulation.

  Still, I find my eyes deeply focused on the front headlights of my husband’s car. I have no idea what would prompt his to lie about this, but I’d put the odds at a coin flip for both headlights actually working just fine.

  Unfortunately, due to the afternoon sun beaming down in the sky above, it’s difficult to tell whether my husband’s lamps are functioning or not. As he pulls out onto the street and takes off, I find the truth still shrouded in mystery.

  However, it’s a mystery I now intend to solve.

  I only hesitate a few minutes before heading out and climbing into my own car, starting the engine, then pulling onto the street after him. I know the shop that my husband goes to, so I hang back a bit and take my time, not wanting to be spotted as I follow behind.

  It’s not long before I arrive at Jim’s Auto, cruising by casually as I glance over and attempt to spot my husband’s car. I see it almost immediately, sitting up on the auto lift as it waits to be serviced. Allen himself is nowhere to be found.

  I pull over and park to good ways away from the building, climbing from the car and then cautiously making my way over to Jim’s. On one hand, all this caution seems a little absurd, but I still can’t fight the feeling that something strange is going on here. After all, my husband’s sudden interest in taking care of his ride has yet to be explained.

  The shop’s gate is open and I slip inside, noticing that there’s nobody currently working the front desk. Instead of checking in and ringing the bell, I make my way over towards the garage itself, slipping behind a few large tire stacks as I creep. Now in the shadows, I find the sound of hushed chatter growing louder and louder while I move deeper into the structure.

  Suddenly, I spot them, my husband and another man wearing ripped, oil-stained jeans and a tight white t-shirt. He’s shockingly muscular, his body trained from days of intense automotive work. The guy is rugged and handsome to a breathtaking degree, and I’m so shocked by this sight of my husband and him chatting that it takes me a full minute to realize this is Jim himself, the owner of the shop.

  While nothing completely incriminating has happened between them just yet, it feels as though my husband and this other man are teetering on the verge. They’re standing incredibly close as they speak, gazing into one another’s eyes as they conserve excitedly about something that seems like a distant departure from car repair.

  I watch in utter silence and fascination, my hands trembling with nervous anxiety. As my husband and Jim get even closer to one another I reach out in hope of finding some stability, but the second I make this move I realize it was a terrible idea. The next thing I know, the tower of tires next to me is rocking wildly, dangerously close to toppling over.

  My husband and Jim pull away from one another, glancing over at the commotion, but by the time they look I’m already gone, sprinting out of the garage and around the corner of the building. I rush to pull open the door of my car and dive into the driver’s seat, starting it up and taking off like a bat out of hell.

  It takes a good while for me to calm down again, and it’s only then that I realize I’ve been cruising in circles for a good half hour, not even attempting to return home.

  A whole myriad of feelings are washing through my body right now, a cocktail of emotions that I can’t even begin to fully understand. On one hand, I find myself incredibly betrayed and angry, while the other side still remains skeptical.

  Did I really see what I think I did back there? After all, it’s not like the two of them were kissing.

  And what if they were?

  This question burns deep into my brain and the answer terrifies me, not because of the adultery, but because of the fact that I actually find myself getting a little turned on by the idea.

  It sounds crazy at first, but the more I tumble this scenario around in my mind, the more aroused I become. Soon enough, my cock is rock hard in my pants, forcing me to pull over to the side of the road and struggle to collect myself. I keep imagining scenarios where my husband takes things farther and farther, imagining the possible kiss that I’d interrupted, followed by the possible make-out session and the possible blowjob after that.

  Sure, these idea’s still make me angry, but there’s something utterly intoxicating about this jealous rage. I feel like it might be nice to give into these tidal waves of emotion, allow them to wash through me and accept them fully into my being.

  Never before have I had this kind of fantasy about the man that I love, but right now it’s all I can think about.

  I want my husband to cheat.

  The second that I finally accept this, I start my car and head home, finding Allen’s vehicle waiting for me in the driveway. While I’m confident that neither of them saw me, my husband is perceptive enough to know something is up.

  I walk inside to find Allen preparing lunch, an incredibly kind gesture that only serves to make me even more suspicious.

  “How was it?” I ask.

  My husband smiles and rushes over, wrapping his arms tight around my body as he pulls me close and plants a deep, passionate kiss on my lips. “Hi Zach,” he coos. “It was great. Really easy.”

  “Good,” I tell his with a smile.

  Allen lets go and returns to his kitchen duties, clearly struggling to keep himself busy.

  “Where’d you take the car again?” I question. “Jim’s?”

  Allen nods, not looking up from his work. “Yep.”

  “He’s a good guy,” I continue. “He does good work.”

  My husband nods again. “I wouldn’t know, he informs me. He’s never there when I go in. The other mechanics take care of me.”

  “Huh,” I offer, somehow putting enough force behind the single syllable that Allen finally stops his frantic movement around the kitchen.

  We stare at one another silently until Allen finally breaks. “Is something the matter?”

  I shake my head. “I was just thinking about how I know the guys over at that shop, and I’m pretty sure they all take today off. It’s Tuesday, right?”

  My husband nods.

  “Then I think Jim’s the only one there,” I continue. “Are you sure it wasn’t Jim that fixed your headlight?”

  Allen forces a smile. “Oh… maybe it was.”

  “You’d know,” I tell him, slowly stepping into the kitchen. “He’s hard to miss. Very handsome guy… strong, too.”

  My husband shrugs, his expression faltering finally as he realizes that he’s been caught. “Maybe it was him.”

  Eventually, the two of us are right up next to one another, our bodies just as close as my husband and his lover before.

  “It’s okay,” I say, trying my best to put Allen at ease. “I love you, baby.”

  I lean in and kiss him deeply, the love rushing back and forth between us. Despite all the tension, we’ve still got a connection that simply can’t be ignored. Nothing is ever going to change that, and it’s a fact that puts both of us at ease.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I whisper into Allen’s ear. “I’m not trying to mess with you, I just want you to know that I know.”

  “Know what?” my husband continues in one last desperate attempt.

  I simply shake my head, and Allen finally nods with understanding.

  “I also want you to know that I kinda like it,” I continue.

  My husband is confused now, pulling back so he can get a full view of the expression on my face. “What?” Allen questions.

  “I like it,” I tell him bluntly, taking my handsome hubby’s hand and directing it down towards my enormous bulge. I’m hard as a
rock, completely overwhelmed with arousal as the situation unfolds. By now, I’ve fully accepted the fact that I’m turned on by my husband cheating, regardless of whether or not I understand it.

  “Wow,” Allen gushes. “Looks like you really like it.”

  “I’m sorry I interrupted you before,” I tell him, then take a deep breath, not sure if I should proceed.

  I realize I’m at a crossroads in my life, and what I do in this moment could change the interactions between my husband and me forever. Still, the overwhelming arousal deep within is a prize too tempting to ignore.

  “I want you to go back,” I finally blurt.

  “Go back?” Allen questions.

  “I interrupted you,” I repeat. “So I want you to go back and finish what you started.”

  My husband looks deeply concerned, but also very tempted by my offer. Without thinking, he softly bites his lower lip. “Really?”

  I nod. “I’ll be watching.”

  Allen hesitates for a moment and then suddenly leaves our embrace, walking over to the front door without a word. He opens it up and heads out to his car, climbing inside and starting the engine.

  I know exactly where he’s headed.

  I follow the same path as I sneak back though Jim’s Auto, taking my time to avoid any and all potential hazards. After the intensity of today, I’m not interested in starting things over again, or letting these intense conversations between my husband and me go to waste.

  It’s not long before I can hear that same giggling and chatting from before, only this time there’s something about it that’s even more intimate. While there’d been a strange caution in their voices last time, all the apprehension has been removed. I’m listening to the sound of two people who know exactly what they want from one another, and who intend to get it.

  Finally, I round the dark corner to find yet another stack of tires, this one much more secure. From here, I gaze out into the quiet shop, finding Allen and Jim talking in hushed voices. Their arms are wrapped around one another as they pull close.

  I can’t help but gasp aloud as I see this. While I’d known this kind of affection would be the result of our plans, actually seeing it with my own two eyes is a different story entirely. Immediately, the jealousy floods back into my veins, causing my whole body to involuntarily tremble. My eyes are transfixed on the two of them, completely focused on the way that their lips drift closer and closer.

  The next thing I know, my husband and Jim are kissing deeply.

  I feel as though I’ve been punched in the gut, nearly doubling over as a rush of emotions pulse through me. The man of my dreams is now embracing another man before my very eyes, and I’ve allowed it to happen.

  Just as quickly as the anger and frustration returns, however, so does the powerful arousal. I am aching with lust, my cock so swollen that I worry it could tear right through the front of my pants.

  I quickly unzip and pull out my enormous dick, slowly pumping my hand across my length as I watch the scene unfold before me.

  “Are you sure you wanna do this?” Jim asks my husband.

  Allen nods. “I’m sure about everything.”

  “Everything?” he repeats back with a devious smile.

  The next thing I know, these two figures are undressing one another, pulling clothes up over the tops of their heads and tossing them to the side. It’s not long before my husband and Jim have both stripped down to their underwear, their hands exploring one another’s bodies with aching desire.

  I’d known Jim was ripped, but now that I can see him fully exposed I’m absolutely blown away by the man’s muscular form. It’s easy to see why my husband would want to fuck him, and the two of them together make a perfect portrait of gay physical prowess.

  Allen is taking his time with Jim, letting his hands drift lower and lower across his toned abs until, finally, they arrive at the waistband of his boxer briefs. He’s teasing him now, watching as he aches for him to take things even farther.

  “Do you want me to stroke that big fat cock of yours?” my husband coos in the ear of this other man. “Do you want me to beat you off?”

  “Yes,” Jim moans.

  Allen is scanning the room now, trying to find my hiding spot. Eventually he notices me, the two of us falling into a powerful moment of eye contact with one another. We say more with our expressions than words ever could, prompting Allen to smile and then offer a playful wink.

  Suddenly, my husband thrusts his hand down into Jim’s shorts, grabbing ahold of the man’s enormous rod and pulling it from its fabric prison. Allen immediately gets to work stroking him off, starting slowly at first and then gaining speed as the handsome mechanic begins to pump his hips along with his movements. They soon fall into a perfect sync with one another as Jim leans his head back and lets out a long, satisfied groan.

  Moment’s later, Allen takes things to the next level by dropping to his knees before him. My husband gazes up at the man with eyes of overflowing lust, completely lost in a belligerent state of arousal. He opens wide and takes Jim’s cock between his lips, cradling his hanging balls as he gets to work pumping his head gracefully across his length.

  Meanwhile, I continue to beat myself off, the feelings of jealousy and the sensations of arousal finally coming to a happy medium within my body. I pace myself along with the pulses of my husband’s face across this other man’s dick, completely enraptured by the erotic scene as it unfolds before me. Allen is skilled with his blowjobs, a fact that I’ve always been well aware of but somehow take great pride in seeing the knowledge shared. There is no question Jim is enjoying himself.

  Faster and faster my husband pumps his face across the mechanic’s enormous member, until finally his pace can grow no longer. Now he changes directions completely, pushing his head down onto Jim with a singular deep movement.

  I watch as Allen gradually consumes the man’s entire rod, his length slipping well past the expected limits of his gag reflex. Soon enough, his face is pressed up hard against Jim’s chiseled abs in a stunning deep throat, his shaft fully inserted within my husband’s neck and held tightly in position. Jim places his hands against the back of Allen’s head, taking control of the situation while Allen maintains his confident deep throating.

  They stay like this for much longer than I’d expect, until Allen is finally forced to pull back with a frantic gasp, utterly belligerent with lust as saliva dangles between his wet lips and head the of Jim’s cock.

  “I need you to fuck me,” my husband moans loudly. “I need you to pound me like my husband never could.”

  His words send and icy stab of pain through my heart, but it’s a pain that I’ve learned to enjoy. I find myself wanting to be humiliated even more, for his to show me what it’s like to fuck a real man right in front of my face.

  Allen climbs to his feet and strips off his underwear, revealing a completely nude and immaculately sculpted body. He jumps up onto Jim, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around him and then reaching back to grab ahold of his gigantic cock. Allen carefully positions the man’s rod and then drops himself down onto him with a confident swoop, impaling his body across the mammoth girth.

  “Oh my fucking god,” Allen scream, throwing his head back in a state of utter erotic bliss. “You’re so much bigger than my husband!”

  The two of them begin to rock with one another, quickly falling into a groove as Jim continues to stand steady and my husband continues to ride. He pumps his hips harder and harder against him, using the force of gravity to grant his even more power.

  “Fuck me, fuck me!” Allen is crying out now, not giving a damn who hears his as his voice echoes out across the garage. He’s repeating the words in a blissed out manta, shrieking them over and over again in a lustful trance. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

  Allen kicks his legs out straight, no longer needing to hold himself upright as Jim’s muscular arms take over. The mechanic is in control now, pumping Allen across his shaft like a sexed up rag
doll as he squeals and screams. I can tell by the way my husband is trembling with prostate stimulation that he could cum any second, but my expectations change as the two of us lock eyes once more.

  “Not yet,” he mouths silently in my direction.

  Suddenly, Allen pulls away and climbs down off of Jim, who seems just as confused as I am.

  The man of my dreams turns around and struts over to one of the nearby cars, swaying his hips as he goes and relishing the way that our eyes follow. When he finally makes it to the hood, he plants his hands and then leans over, popping his toned rump out towards us and wiggling it back and forth playfully.

  “You like what you see?” Allen coos.

  Jim nods.

  “Then come and take me from behind. Pound the fuck out of my tight asshole right here on the hood of this car,” my husband continues, the erotic diatribes cascading freely from his mouth. “Take me up the butt like the dirty gay slut that I am. Pound me silly and give me your fucking load.”

  Jim can hold back no longer, confidently saddling up behind Allen and aligning his dick with his tightly puckered ass. My husband reaches back with one hand, spreading his cheeks for him and then letting out a startled yelp as Jim trusts forward, straight up his aching butthole once more.

  “Oh my god, that’s so fucking big!” Allen screams, his eyes rolling back into his head.

  Soon enough the two lovers fall into the same confident rhythm that they’d found before, Jim hammering away at my handsome hubby from behind, using him like a gay sex toy that was built for pleasure. Of course, Allen likes nothing more than to be used by this hulking, confident man.

  The sight is so unbelievably hot that I’d have trouble not blowing my load right then and there, but I somehow manage to hold back. It takes every ounce of discipline I can muster, and I remind myself of the fact that the second I cum is the second all of this comes crashing down. Who knows how I’ll feel about my husband taking another man’s rod once all these erotic chemicals have left my system. Right now, I’m just happy to be along for the ride.

  Soon enough, Jim is hammering into Allen with everything he’s got, the rhythmic slam of his body against the car’s hood echoing out through the garage. I watch as Allen’s hand creeps back between his legs, getting himself off with a frantic fast that beats across his swollen cock.