Man Flu 4: Part 8 (End) (Patreon)

Still coming down off of my orgasmic high I am left reeling by the sudden agony pouring out in my arms.  Chelsea, normally so strong and and dynamic and confident, wept like a little babe.  Regret pumps through my body with every beat of my wounded heart.  The wound being self inflicted only made the sting that much worse.  Hearing my wife’s bitter sobs and feeling her tears wet my chest brought everything into sharp focus.  I’d been so foolish.  So cruel.  I had it all.  I had the life people dreamed of.  Career, home, incredible children…and beautiful wife who loved me.  All for blind, stupid lust I had thrown it all away.  For the touch and praise of a pretty young thing I had turned my life, Chelsea’s life, and our daughters’ lives into turmoil.  After this our girls would never look at me the same again.  And all those innumerable little joys of sharing my life with Chelsea, the woman I truly loved, would be gone forever.  But worst of all, I had hurt and betrayed the woman that I swore to love and to cherish till death do us part.  Dear God.  What had I done?  As she cries I hold her tight, knowing that this might very well be the last time I hold her in my arms.

Her moment of weakness only lasts a minute or two.  I can feel her tense as it dawns on her that the man comforting her was the one who caused her torment in the first place.  She sniffles, takes a hard breath, then recaptures her righteous indignation as she pushes away from me.  She sniffles again and wipes the tears from her face as she stands tall and raises her chin in defiance of the emotions coursing through her.

With a sharp nod toward the door she says.  “Get that little home-wrecker out of my house.  Then pack a bag and do the same.  You son of a bitch.”

The angry words cut me, but they were refreshing in their honestly after the performance she’d given out in the bedroom.  “Wait.  Chelsea, please.”

She turns from me.  “I won’t tell the girls what happened.  I’ll give you that much.”

I stare at her for long, quiet moment then say softly.  “You said you loved me.  Do you still?”

She glances my way, holds my eyes for a second, then looks away again.  “After what you did?  What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”  I say.  “Do you still love me, Chelsea?”

I watch her shoulders rise and her lean muscles tighten as she gathers her venom before she strikes.  In profile her face twists as she readies the words that would end us forever.  Then just as swiftly it all comes crumbling down again.  Her shoulders sag and her taut muscles relax as her head dips low.  “God damn it, Jordan.  Yes.  I do.  God knows why, but I do.”

Taking a step forward I am grateful when she does not pull away.  Ever so subtly her hand closest to me turns and opens, inviting my touch.  I take that invitation and slip my hand into hers.  Her loose fingers do not grip back but neither does she pull away.  “I really fucked up.”

“Yeah.”  She whispers.  “You did.”

“I…I don’t know how to fix this.”

She lets out a long sigh.  “Somethings can’t be fixed, Jordan.  Somethings cannot be undone.”  As my hope begins to fade her hand at last grips mine.  “But…”

“But?”  I hang on to that little word with everything I had.

“But maybe they can be rebuilt.  Maybe the end of one thing could be the beginning of another.”  She turns her head to look at me.  “Perhaps we could…start again?”

A smile growing I nod.  “I don’t deserve it but…I’d like that, Chels.”

My heart swells as a reluctant, bitter-sweet smile is returned.  “Why the hell do I love you, Jordan?”

“Search me.”  I pull her in and wrap my arms around her waist, our mismatched members mashing together.  “It certainly isn’t for the sex.  Jesus!  You were brutal.”

She laughs, despite herself.  “Sorry.  I was pretty rough with you."

“I’ll say!”

“But you deserved it.”

“Yeah.  I did.”

“Pride for pride, it only seemed fair.”

“You shattered it good.”  I say.  “It’s a lesson I won’t soon forget.”

Her eyes narrow as her grin widens.  “The difference is…you actually enjoyed it!”

“Well…I…”

“No, no.”  She pinches my side.  “Don’t deny it now.  You loved every second of it.”

“Love is a strong word.”

“Ha!”  She slips her arms around me and, on purpose, grinds her larger meat into mine.  “You want a fresh start?”

“Yes.  More than anything.”

“Then no more lies.  No more hiding the truth.”  She says.  “We lay it all bare.”

“Okay.”

“You were bored with our love life.”

“It wasn’t anything you did…”

“It’s because we weren’t talking.  We weren’t being honest with each other.”  She says.  “You were bored.  You were craving something different than what I was giving.”

“And by the sounds of it, you’ve been left craving since we got together.”  I peer into her emerald eyes.  “Unless you just said that stuff to hurt me.”

Any delusions my ego had left are quickly shot down by facts.  “I mean, I did but…they weren’t lies either.”

“Oh God.”

She laughs again and kisses me.  “You’re a lousy lay and you still got a ring on my finger.  There’s not many guys who could have done that.”

“Ouch!”

Glancing downward she giggles in a frisky, flirty sort of way that she hadn’t since we were dating.  “I felt that.”

“Felt what?”

“That twitch.”

“What twitch?”

“When I said that you were a lousy lay.  HA!  There it is again.”

My cheeks are warm with a heavy blush.

“You get off on humiliation.”

“Well…I…”

“Ha ha ha!”  Her laughter echoes off our tiled washroom walls.  “My husband is a cuckold.”

“Oh geez!”

“Not a real man.  Just a pitiful little cucky boy.”  She titters.  “Premature and a small dick to match, you were built for it baby.  HA!  I felt that too, cuck.”

Heaven help me but she wasn’t wrong.  With each belittling insult my pecker twitched with a life of its own.  Had her tone been cruel her words might have actually hurt, but her tone was so upbeat and positive and I was so relieved for our second chance that I just take them on the chin and allow myself to enjoy the barbs.

“What have I started?”

“Something wonderful.”  She strokes down my hair and across my shoulders as she gazes into my eyes.  “You wanted to spice things up.  Well, this will do it.”

“This?”

“Cuckolding of course.”  She winks.  “You thought seeing your tart get fucked by a proper cock was hot, just wait until you see your wife.”

“Wha!?”

“New start, baby.  The old rules are out.  Things aren’t going back to the same.”  She says.  “We were both so busy giving each other what husbands and wives were expected to give that we never stopped to consider what actually wanted.  You get your spice, and I get to find myself some hung studs to rail me.  Win-win.”  She chuckles.  “I’m just glad that we could start again before I was too old to enjoy it.  And I’m still hot enough to draw in some good ones.  With the girls moved out we’ve got the house to ourselves, this honestly couldn’t have happened at a better time when you think about it.  This could turn out to be the best thing to ever happen to us!”

“Bu-bu-but…hung studs!?”

“I confess I was always afraid of the big ones.  I thought they would hurt.  But after seeing Missy out there…whoo!  Let’s just say that I’m willing to give it a try.”  She fans herself.  “Ohhh my GAWD!  Ha!”

“You want to sleep with other men?”

“It’s what you want too, isn’t it?”  She says, an evil glimmer in her eyes.  Rubbing dick to dick she adds.  “You’re saying yes where it counts, cuck.  Why fight it?”

“This is all so sudden.”

With a reassuring smile she lays her hands over my chest.  “You can keep you’re little hussy too.  If she’ll have you now.  Just…” She kisses me again.  “…tell her to lay off the love talk.  Okay?  She can have your body, but your heart is mine.  Understood?”

“Yeah.”  I whisper.  Had I not been holding her I might have fallen over from shock.  Chelsea was going to cuckold me!?  I didn’t know whether to cry to cheer.  Down below though my little cuckold cock, surging with every fresh pump of blood from my heart, cried yes, yes, YES!  “I guess we can…try it out?”

“That’s the spirit, babe.”  We seal the deal with another kiss.

Through the door comes a tired but happy warble.  “Ohhhhh my pussssyyyy.”

My wife and I share a laugh.

“Is everything okay in there?  I’m gettin kinda lonely out here.”

“Everything is fine Missy.”  I call back before saying in a low, grateful tone.  “Thank you.  Thank you for…understanding.  I do love you, Chelsea.  With all my heart.”

“And I love you, Jordan.”  She says proudly.  “Even if you are a cuck.  Especially because you’re a cuck!  Ha!”  Her eyes light up.  “This is going to be fun.”

I both blush and grow at the casual humiliation.  When she said things weren’t going to be the same she wasn’t kidding.  “Okay.  Let me get her out of here and we can talk about what happens now.”

“Now hold on there.”  This time it was Chelsea’s big hog that swelled between us.  “I think I’m ready for round two.”

“Round two?  No.  Poor Missy can’t…”

“Ohhh, I’m sure my princess wouldn’t deny me.”  She steps back from me and taking her massive, veiny, semi-hard cock in one hand she clubs it into the palm of the other.  “Not if she wants another taste of this.”

“She’s princess again?”

“I’ll play nice with your ditsy fucktoy for another week at least.”

“Another week?”

Her full lips curl into that same devious, wicked grin I’d seen earlier.  “After all that she’s surely got my flu.  He he he.”  Plap, plap, plap, her fat cock slaps into her slender hand.  “Who better to be your first bull?”

“My first…bull!?”

“And after all that I’ll do to her I cannot WAIT to see what she does to me.”  She cackles.  “Payback will never be so sweet.”

“You are the devil!”

“And you love me for it.”  After a wink and a kiss to my cheek she walks to the washroom door and swings it wide, then strides on through without delay.  “My dear princess.  So sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Is everything ok…oh.  Oh?  Oh.  Oh!  OH!  Oh Mrs. Parker!  Again!?  Already!?  OHHHHHH!!!”

With Missy’s sweet mewls echoing around me I stand in my washroom fully erect and agape at this wild new chapter of my life.  Would it be heaven?  Would it be hell?  Who could tell.  All I knew for certain is that it would never be the same.  And that, never again, would I underestimate the fury of a scorned spouse.

The End