A Cock In The Hand - S01 E21

Story 3 weeks ago

A Cock In The Hand - S01 E21

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 21

Although this is a stand-alone story, it is actually the fifth part in 'A Cock in the Hand' series, which began under the gay male category, depicting the manipulation of a straight married man to a submissive gay bottom to a big-cocked alpha male.

This chapter describes the introduction of the big-cocked stranger to the wife of the submissive cocksucker. It contains content of non-consent reluctant man/woman sex, as the wife learns what a 'real' cock feels like. If this is in any way offensive, please move onto another story. If you choose to read on, I hope you enjoy.

Note to reader, as I worked on this story, Amy had a mind of her own and took the story further than I originally planned. So, it's a little long, but I hope the payoff is worth it. Enjoy, and as always, I welcome your feedback!

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I sat waiting for my husband, Wayne's, call, with complete dread. I had no Idea how I could talk to him and pretend I hadn't just ruined our marriage. My stomach felt like I'd swallowed a bag of cement. A long, hot shower did not help to make me feel any cleaner. In fact, I felt nothing but dirty. In just one mindless day, I had tossed all morals aside and succumbed to animal lust with a complete stranger, in my own home.

As these words play in my mind, that was part of the problem. It didn't feel like my home. Since we moved to Dallas for my husband's career, I hadn't embraced the new home, or the town.

On paper, it made perfect sense. I could easily transfer with my company. I work for a large retailer of primarily women's clothing and home goods. His promotion came with a significant raise. However, it turned out, I hated my new boss, and the stress of moving our children away from family, made me feel trapped and resentful.

Wayne tried to help, telling me I could leave my job until we got settled, but that thought only made me feel more dependent and more deeply trapped. I had always been independent-minded and proud of my career. The thought of being a stay-at-home mom, while having some appeal, was always terrifying to me. I would be completely dependent on him for everything. There was no chance I could ever do that.

Then, when Mark showed up at my house, and made me feel sexy and vital, I just lost my fucking mind. All my pent-up frustration, fear and anger released in an animal passion; I hadn't felt in years. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Wayne is a pilot for a major airline and got a promotion with a significant raise to move from Baltimore to Dallas. We discussed it, weighed the pros and cons, and mutually decided to make the move. I went into this, eyes wide open and confident it was the best for our family.

I knew it would be hard being away from Mom and my sister, but with our flight perks, it would be easy to fly back or have them fly out as frequently as we wanted.

Unfortunately, the new boss turned out to be an oppressive, hands-on prick, who used to have my job, and refused to see how anyone would want to handle anything differently than him.

That introduced a whole new level of stress and exponentially increased the stress between Wayne and me and magnified every obstacle. Trying to find daycare and looking at schools became another point of frustration, and with Wayne's travel schedule, the weight of it all rested firmly on me.

So how do I respond? By fucking the young man, my husband was trying to help out of a tough situation. He had offered to pay him for doing some landscaping work on the new house.

I wish Wayne had told me in advance he was coming. Maybe it would have been different. When Mark showed up dressed like he was, it set me back, and I never seemed to get back on track.

That morning, my mom was staying with me, thanks to Wayne's suggestion to help me with the transition. We flew mom out to spend time with the kids, and give me some relief, as I searched for childcare options and reviewed preschool choices. I had that Monday off, and Mom was planning to take the kids to the zoo, while I had some 'me' time and interviewed a couple of babysitter candidates.

Mom and Dad married young, which resulted in an extra-close relationship between her, my younger sister, and me. She looked amazing for her age, and often was mistaken for our older sister. Because of that dynamic, my sister and I really enjoyed spending time with Mom since she was sometimes as much a friend, as she was a mom.

The kids were sleeping in, so mom and I were enjoying the peace and quiet poolside, in the Texas heat. We wore matching bikinis I brought home from work, almost jokingly. We would never have dared to wear them, had we known there would be company.

I was enjoying the quiet, reclining by the pool, sucking up the rapidly rising heat like a lizard. Mom went to refill her coffee and I was starting to drift off, when she returned with our surprise visitor, startling me awake.

"Amy, sweetie, look what I found," she said, in a loud and perky voice.

"Hello, I'm Mark Thomas. Good to meet you, Mrs. Stilson. Seeing you, there's no doubt you and Ericka are related. Such rare beauty is unmistakable, but she's joking about being your mom, right?"

I tried to snap myself awake, but was confused who this was, and where the hell Mom picked him up. After an awkward pause, he spoke up.

"Damn, Steven didn't tell you I was coming?" he asked, uncomfortably.

"Who's Steven?" I asked, growing uncomfortable.

"Sorry, I mean Wayne," he corrected himself.

I looked at Mom like she was crazy; I couldn't believe she let this stranger into our house. She stood there grinning, in her bright-red bikini, confident as could be, eyes scanning Mark like a starving man eyeing a tender steak.

It was at that moment, that I noticed the object of her roaming eyes. Mark was tall and well put together, wearing obnoxiously tight jean shorts and a plain white tank T. The bulge in his pants was mesmerizing. I realized that, when I finally looked away and he flashed a snickering grin, with his eyes darting between Mom and me.

Trying not to stare at his bulge, I found myself enamored with his pecs and biceps, as well. My awkwardness only grew, and Mom loved every minute of it. She grinned ear to ear, shoving her chest forward, like a peacock with its feathers fanned out wide. Only Mom would invite a complete stranger in, and flirt with him mercilessly.

When I noticed the bulge growing larger, I was slapped back to reality. Mom and I were half naked in front of a large, hung stranger, and the kids asleep in the house. My discomfort level was growing by the second, while Mom was oblivious, and loving being ogled by the young stud.

Sensing my unease, Mark reacted. "I'm so sorry, I should have introduced myself. I'm Mark Thomas. I met your husband, Wayne recently, at the park jogging. He heard my story and decided to help by paying four hundred dollars toward my rent in exchange for some help and told me I could get four hundred dollars more for doing some odd jobs here at the house.

"I'm so sorry, that he didn't tell you. I hope I didn't get my wires crossed on which day," he said, looking concerned.

I was confused by his comments. Wayne never said anything and frankly, it did not sound like him to take pity on a stranger and give them four dollars let alone four hundred.

"Oh yeah, I do have the ATM receipt. He handed it to me with the cash and I never tossed it." He held it out.

It was Wayne's name on the receipt. "He did tell me he was gonna try to hire someone to dig out all these old shrubs and weeds," I said, as Mom's grin widened.

Four hundred dollars was way too cheap. Even eight hundred dollars sounded like a steal, for the amount of work. The shrubs were thick and overgrown all around the house. I thought, it did sound more like Wayne-- 'helping' a stranger, by taking advantage of them.

With Mom's encouragement, I decided to let him stay, and showed him all the work we wanted done. Mark was surprisingly open about his job at a local construction company being eliminated and his struggle looking for work.

He started working in the back and Mom did some prying into his love life, while he worked. She discovered he had been engaged, but his fiancé had broken it off a year ago, after almost five years. He seemed to love the attention and continued all morning, encouraging Mom's flirtation.

"You, ladies, are a prime example of why I haven't dated. All the pretty ones are taken. I could tell Wayne had some smarts, but wow. He picked a winner, Mrs. Stilson."

"Call me Amy," I said, blushing.

I had to admit, I was loving the attention almost as much as Mom.

"My Daddy used to say, take a good look at your mother-in-law, if you wanna know what your future wife's gonna look like in thirty years. Obviously, Wayne heard that, too."

"Watch it Mark, I'm not that much older..."

"Sorry, ma'am, I was just gonna say you must have got married at fifteen, or so."

"Good save, Mark, good save," I laughed.

"If I'd known the perks of this job, I'd have paid Steven, er--I mean Wayne, for the privilege."

I blushed again, as I watched him work, sweat starting to glisten on his rippled, tanned body. His ass was nearly as mesmerizing as the bulge. I was now able to stare at him, as he focused on the bushes.

"Excuse me a minute," said Mom, standing up. "I need to check on my grand babies. I know I kept them up late, but they are being sleepyheads this morning. Or they're up to no good. It just seems too quiet." She strutted away, glancing back, to make sure he was watching.

I had to admit, it did feel good to be the object of such a good-looking man's attention. Tensions between Wayne and I had been higher than ever, lately. It seemed like the past three or four weeks, he showed no interest, and frankly I didn't mind. It was easier to blame him for the stress of the move, than take responsibility for my own decisions.

"Can I get you some ice water or lemonade, Mark, you look downright hot," I said, doing my own bit of flirting. I noticed I even threw in a hint of southern drawl, with my double entendre.

"Lemonade sounds great. But you look awfully comfortable laying there. I can get us both, some, if you tell me where the glasses are." He had walked over and stood next to my lounge chair, with his bulging cock hovering in front of me.

I suddenly imagined sitting on the edge of the lounge chair, looking his cock dead on, while I unbuttoned those shorts. Then, in my mind, I unzipped them and slid them down leaving his semi-hard monster fighting to break free of his underwear. Next, my fingers slipped into his waistband and pulled his undies out and down, revealing his hot manhood before gripping him with both hands.

"Glasses?" he asked, breaking my lecherous train of thought.