Cuckolded By My Landlord 2: Hotwife & Submissive Husband Group Cuckolding Read online

  "We should get started.” Arthur checks his heavy gold watch and smiles at my wife, “You have a very eager audience tonight young lady."

  Kelsey’s cheeks have colored-up but she flicks a hand through her hair at the back of her head.

  "Come on dear,” Rochella appears at Kelsey’s side and takes her arm, “I'll help you get changed."

  "Oh, I’ll be fine thanks. I already have my bikini on underneath."

  “Nonsense Dear, we can’t have you undressing in front of everyone. It wouldn’t be dignified” She takes my wife’s glass of wine from her and without a word hands it to me.

  I watch the pair of them disappear from the room.

  “So,” asks the smirking Laurence sidling up to me, “Was this your wife’s idea or yours?”

  I don’t like the way he said that. I don’t like that ‘clever’ look on his face.

  “It’s not something we’d normally do, “ I clear my throat and my brain grasps for words that might make me feel some sense of self respect.

  “Kelsey always liked the idea of trying out some modelling. Helping Arthur out with his drawing seemed to kill two birds with one stone I guess.” I’m trying to look and sound ‘matter of fact’ not embarrassed. “He’s been very good to us.” I add, hoping to add further justification for being here.

  “I’m sure he has.” Laurence glances at Arthur out of the corner of his eyes. To the landlord’s credit, if he sees the ‘knowing’ look he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, like a veteran bull-fighter he whips open a blood-red table cloth and straightens it over the dining table.

  “I think the evening has grown a little too cold to expect Kelsey to pose outside the whole time." he says

  “Or for us to have to sit outside drawing” Laurence holds his glass up to the landlord.

  The room falls so silent that my breathing sounds like waves crashing onto a shore.

  My wife is barefoot with a sky-blue bath-towel around her. Rochella is at her side. I want to look at the other two men to see how they’re reacting to Kelsey. I daren’t.

  “We thought we’d ask you sit here Kelsey,” Arthur takes a cushion from his sofa and places it on the dining table. He gestures for the others to arrange their chairs around the table.

  “Nicholas, as you’re the only one here who won’t be sketching, could I ask that you just keep an eye on everyone’s glass? Try to ensure no-one dies of thirst if you would.” he slaps my back and my stomach hardens further.

  Rochella helps Kelsey out of the towel. Gregory purrs with approval as her bikini is exposed. The dramatic, tanned curves of her hips, her ass and her heavy bust are presented for all to admire. She’s so close that I can almost feel her body heat

  “How you do want me?” she laughs nervously, her face and throat still pink and blotchy. She’s self-consciousness. Is it any wonder?

  “I thought to begin with,” Arthur addresses the room, “Kelsey should simply lie across the table on her side, possibly with one elbow on the table supporting her head. Her other arm could drape down her side over her hip.”

  Having finished talking about my wife as if she isn’t present, Arthur smiles at her and indicates that she should mount the dining table.

  Laurence extends an arm to help her. I watch closely but he doesn’t try to touch her inappropriately. In fact, he looks a little embarrassed himself.

  “Like this,” Arthur moves his arm down his side, illustrating more precisely how he wants my wife to lie, “Before we begin, if anyone needs to adjust their seating so that they can better focus on the area or aspect of our model they intend draw....” Arthur’s voice trails away

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Gregory grips his chair and drags it into position behind my wife. He sinks heavily down onto his seat with his pad and pencil, his eyes widening on Kelsey’s rear.

  Up on the table she lies and waits.

  “Well I think Kelsey has the most beautiful feet I’ve ever seen” Rochella’s lips tighten and she adjusts the position of her necklace before sliding her chair closer to my wife’s crimson-painted toenails.

  Arthur adjusts the dimmer lighting above the table and on the wall lamps and hands out pencils and drawing pads to those who haven’t brought their own. He takes his place near to Kelsey’s head and close to Laurence. “OK?” he mouths silently at my wife. Kelsey nods and smiles at him.

  I stay in the background listening to the pencils begin to scratch away like a horde of insects trying to escape from a box. I alternate between trying not to look too awkward as I sit on the sofa hoping to catch my wife’s eye and then checking no-one’s glass is empty. Occasionally, I call across to ask one or other whether they need a drink, but they all seem too absorbed in what they’re doing to care.

  It does occur to me as I wait here, that somehow Arthur has positioned me like their drinks ‘waiter’ but I guess there’s little else I could be doing while I’m here. I don’t want to focus on how hot this is. I don’t want to get a hard on and for everyone to see it.

  Arthur seems to finish and to my surprise is soon showing me his work. He is seriously a very good artist. It’s a fantastic likeness of my wife on his dining table.

  When the scratching of the other pencils has stopped and everyone has finished, Arthur takes Kelsey’s’ hand and helps her down from the table. He asks me to get her a glass of wine and Rochella helps her back in to the towel.

  “You are everything Arthur said you were.” Laurence gushes at my wife, his face flushed “Let me give you my details,” he hands her a business card, “If you ever decide to take up doing this kind of thing on a more professional basis I have contact who may be able to help you Kelsey.”

  “How was it?” I whisper to my wife once I can finally get her alone for a moment.

  “Laurence thinks he might be able to help me do this professionally” She hands me his card and then fans her face with both hands.

  “Kelsey, the group have asked me to put a proposal to you” Arthur’s broad hand rests lightly on my wife’s bare shoulder. His voice quietens as Rochella reaches his side, drink in hand.

  “Everyone has been inspired by your striking shape Kelsey.” Arthur pauses and Kelsey’s eyes are gleaming. “So much so Kelsey, that Gregory has come up with an intriguing idea. One which would provide quite a challenge to any artist in terms of trying to reproduce reflections of the light.” He sounds like he’s trying to explain some sort of obscure scientific experiment.

  “If you’re agreeable to it Kelsey we thought it might be interesting for you to have oil applied to your skin. You would obviously be able to shower here afterwards.” Arthur sips from his crystal tumbler and eyes Kelsey’s carefully.

  “Oil?” Kelsey’s eyes widen.

  “Merely Baby oil.” He smiles, “I have some in my bathroom we could use. We’d need to put a plastic table-cloth over this one of course.” He points at the dining table.

  It takes a moment for my head to process what he’s saying.

  “It would probably be best to remove your bikini of course. So that would obviously mean you’d be posing nude for the group Kelsey.”

  My chest hammers away I can’t look at her. I can’t look at him either.

  “Naturally we would make a generous bonus available should you accept,” Arthur gesticulates grandly with his tumbler of whiskey.

  “Why don’t you and your husband take a moment to discuss the idea Kelsey? It’s entirely up to you both. No pressure whatsoever.” He shrugs as if we’re all equal friends here.

  “If the pair of you decide you are happy with the idea perhaps Nicholas, you would be able to apply the oil to your wife for us? I’m sure Rochella would be only too pleased to assist as well wouldn’t you Roshe?

  “I’d be delighted to my dear,” Rochella takes one of Kelsey’s hands and smiles maternally at her. Her plump hands massage my wife’s slender fingers.

  “We couldn’t possibly expect Nicky to have to do it all alone” Rochella’s eyes shine as she gaz
es at my wife.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Kelsey, we’ll take a break on the terrace and give you some privacy while you prepare,” Arthur smiles at my wife and hands a small bottle of translucent yellow liquid to Rochella.

  I can’t believe my wife’s prepared to do this. My chest is rigid I can hardly breathe yet excitement, verging on hysteria, crackles through me.

  “There are some canapés out in the kitchen now if anyone’s hungry. Let me know when she’s ready.” Arthur gestures for his two companions to follow him and adjourn outside with their drinks and plates of finger food.

  “Do you want to help yourself to something to eat Nicky?” Rochella’s eyes never leave Kelsey as she helps my wife out of her towel again. Kelsey sits on the edge of the dining table.

  “Put your hair up dear before I get started with the oil.” Rochella instructs my wife.

  This is getting out of control.

  “I’m not hungry thanks,” I say, trying to at least regain some influence over what’s happening. Eat? That’s about the last thing I could possibly do at the moment.

  Kelsey’s chest heaves in her bikini top as she raises her arms to fix her hair up. Further down close to the floor her long, bare legs sway as she crosses one slender ankle over the other.

  “You might not be hungry Nicky but you’re wife may be,” Rochella tuts and opens up a fleshy palm underneath the inverted bottle of oil. “You should go and put a few things on plate for her.” She nods me away and begins rubbing her palms together, spreading and creaming the apricot-scented oil into her hands

  “Even if you’re not hungry now dear you might well be later,” she explains to Kelsey.

  Arthur’s voice sounds from outside. The others with him are laughing. Kelsey raises her chin to allow Rochella to start oiling her throat.

  Oh my God. This is really going to happen.

  My hands shake like an old man myself as I hurriedly grab topped discs of bread; mini skewered chicken pieces and some sort of vol-au-vents or samosas. I toss them onto a plate and hurry back to my wife and Rochella.

  Kelsey’s bikini top is on the sofa. Still on the edge of the dining table she has a forearm over her bare breasts. She’s kicking her bikini bottoms off over her ankles. The plastic cover over the tablecloth creaks as she moves. Rochella is slowly applying more oil to both hands.

  “Anyone want any food?” my voice is high pitched. Kelsey smiles at me and shakes her head. I put the plate down on the fireplace.

  “Get some oil Nicky so you can do your wife’s shoulders” Rochella’s eyes remain on my wife. “Sit back my dear,“ she smiles at her, “Just so Nicky can reach you. “

  Gloriously nude, but with both arms shielding her bosom, Kelsey shuffles her bare bottom backwards over the transparent plastic.

  “Go around the other side of the table Nicky,” Rochella directs me to take up a position behind Kelsey.

  She might be used to giving me orders when its business – but this is my wife!

  I try to keep my hands as steady as possible as I begin to work the cool oil into the warmth of my wife’s shoulders. My mouth is so dry. Kelsey’s head moves as my fingers massage her muscles.

  “Mmm, that’s nice Nick,” she murmurs.

  “Help yourself to more oil if you need it Nicky,” Rochella moves in between Kelsey’s knees and squeezes the oil so that it oozes from the bottle over Kelsey’s chest. My wife squeals.

  “You have absolutely wonderful breasts my dear” Rochella’s voice has thickened and her arms move towards my wife. “Lift your arms a little sweetie. Nicky can do those for you as well.”

  Oh my God she’s massaging her tits! Laughably all I can think is that I don’t want Rochella to see my hands shaking.

  I spread more oil between both hands and Kelsey raises an arm. I try to quieten my breathing. I work the slippery liquid over the glistening, supple flesh of each of her arms. So much oil. But unlike sun cream, this doesn’t sink into flesh. Rather, as I anoint my beautiful wife, smearing the oil across her skin, she gleams as if soaked or consecrated under the dining room lights.

  “Do her back Nicky,” Rochella mumbles while she herself seems finished on my wife’s belly and has started on the tops of her thighs.

  “Look at these lovely legs,” she mutters from the other side of my wife.

  I think I’m going out of my mind. My cock pushes against the inside of my pants now as I paint and spread the lubricant over the spine and lower back the woman I love. All for the benefit of other people.

  “Do you want to go wash your hands and then fetch the men while I do your wife’s bottom?” Rochella says eventually

  The ‘men’? Like I’m not one of the ‘men’?

  When I return dazed from the bathroom after managing to avoid seeing myself in the mirror I’ve soaped the oil from my trembling hands. Rochella is standing back from the dining table. Kelsey is face down on it. The majestic twin orbs of her round ass are shimmering and dripping with oil. Her long glazed legs bent at the knee and her shiny, delicate little feet in the air.

  “Perfect. In fact; absolutely divine,” Rochella smiles at my wife’s sleek rear.

  Outside, the three men are talking about property when I go to fetch them. Once back inside, they fall silent.

  Kelsey is sitting upright on the table now, hugging her knees close to her chest.

  Arthur speaks first.

  “Wonderful Kelsey, you look wonderful.”

  “I hope I don’t drip onto your floor Arthur,” she says then seems to realize what she’s just said and her face reddens.

  “So Lady and gentlemen, we must decide on the position we require our model to assume.”

  “How about on all fours so her tits hang down?”Gregory’s eyes crawl over my wife’s bare body.

  “Please Gregory, let’s at least try to maintain a little sense of decorum,” Arthur sighs, “I think what Gregory is suggesting Kelsey, is that perhaps you could kneel on the table so we can see for a moment how the light would catch you in that position.”

  Now Kelsey looks at me.

  What am I supposed to say? My brain spins in neutral like a car with the accelerator on at the same time as the handbrake. What do I say? My cock is throbbing.

  “Which way do you want me to face?” my wife’s voice doesn’t sound like hers. It’s so weak.

  Arthur instructs her. Slowly she lowers her knees and with the plastic groaning she twists herself over onto her hands and knees in front of everyone.

  Oh God. I feel faint.

  Kelsey’s big shining breasts drop down beneath her, swinging weightily for a moment, nipples stiffened. Her head is low.

  “Lift up your head Kelsey, you should be proud of a figure like yours. “Arthur’s voice is guttural

  “Quite exceptional” croaks Laurence.

  “Let’s try it sitting again,” Arthur plays with his chin, as if analyzing my wife. He’s got a hard on! I can see the bulge in his pants.

  “Exquisite though she undoubtedly looks, I’m not wholly convinced that position will afford us the best use of the light. Rochella, gentlemen: what do we think?”

  Laurence seems in agreement as they all discuss other poses for my wife as if neither she nor I are in the room.

  Arthur has her sit back on her bottom. She pulls her knees and ankles together and once more wraps her arms around her legs, hugging them to her, obscuring both her breasts and vagina.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure that will do Kelsey” Arthur pretends to scold her with an index finger. He moves towards her.

  Surely the others can see his erection in his pants? Surely Kelsey can?

  He lifts her arms away from her and tells her to sit back, placing her palms on the table at her sides, to help her support herself. Her breasts are displayed, knees and ankles still together.

  “Your wife has great tits,” Gregory mutters in my ear. Kelsey’s face is red.

  “Could you separate your ankles please Kelsey?” Arthur’s
voice is firm.

  Kelsey pinches the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth. Her greased feet slide apart across the table.

  “Wider please Kelsey,” the landlord’s voice is quieter now but there’s authority in his tone. He speaks slowly: “Now open your knees Kelsey and spread those lovely legs for us if you would.”

  The light shimmers over my wife’s seasoned, silky body, reflecting brilliant white stripes and leaf shapes in the oil. Her skin looks saturated.

  The pink petals of her vagina pout at her audience. Folds of pale rose color contrasting with the supple, smeared and tanned surround of her thighs.

  Breathe deeply, breathe deeply.

  “So beautiful” murmurs Laurence.

  Rochella’s breathing sounds as labored as mine.

  I look again to my wife and this time her exposed pussy perversely reminds me of the inside of a tender, rare steak.

  The corner of my eye is caught by Laurence. Did he just pick up part of Kelsey’s bikini from the sofa and stuff it in his pocket? Am I going crazy?

  “At the risk of messing up my hands,” Arthur almost chortles, “If I may adjust you slightly Kelsey,” he has his back to me. He’s close to her now, standing at the edge of the table between her feet. His hands are on her chin. He moves her head back further. She’s smiling at him. I catch sight of one of her nipples. It looks like a thorn.

  Arthur’s hands move down below my wife’s flat tummy. Her eyes close. Shit, he’s pushing her legs further apart.

  Kelsey murmurs.

  Oh my God, is he touching her there? In front of everyone? Do something Nick! Do something! My head is ready to explode.

  Gregory moves in closer to my exhibited wife. Rochella remains on a seat in front of me, transfixed.

  Arthur‘s fingering my wife. His hands move to the belt of his pants.

  Kelsey’s eyes open. She’s kneeling up on the table now, oily chest swaying. She’s pulling at Arthur’s shirt, tugging the bottom of it out of his pants. He’s unzipping himself. Kelsey’s trying to help him out of his shirt.

  “Careful,” he laughs, “no sense in getting oil on an Armani shirt.”