Tyson in the Bedroom

 


What's a husband to do when he returns home from work and finds a superior man in bed with his wife?  Does he cry for help, or does he sit there and take it?

*         *         *         *


The sky rumbled with the approach of rain as I drove towards my home in Convent Gardens. It was an hour past midday and you’d think there won’t be much traffic along the way, but wrong. The highway was blocked on account of a freak accident. It was all on the news when I tuned in my radio. The accident just seemed to add to my frustration. I turned the knob to a Classic Rock station and listened to Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac croon to me about how I made loving fun. Yeah right, like that was supposed to make me feel happy.


The rain began to splatter by the time I got home which was a few minutes past three. Sheryl’s car was in the driveway when I arrived so I had no choice but to park by the curb.


“Sheryl, I’m home,” I called out as I shut the door behind me. I dropped my car keys on the counter as well then took the bag of pastries with me to the kitchen.

 

I took out the pastries and bread and into the fridge they went, and took out a leftover cheesecake to the counter. I got a saucer plate and knife but stopped when I saw two wine glasses and a bottle of champagne in the sink. I recognised the champagne bottle as one I had purchased several months back that I was saving for a special occasion.

 

I left the kitchen and went out into the passageway. I stopped when I caught a faint yet familiar smell of marijuana. It was coming from the living room. The living room was empty, but there was evidence that Sheryl had brought company here. Her shoes were on the floor along with someone else’s — a pair of worn-out Timbaland’s. An ashtray lay on the centre table from which came the marijuana I’d perceived.

 

Only one name came to mind — Tyson, her lover.

 


There came a bumping noise from above my head. It was serious enough to shake the chandelier above me.

 

I left the living room and bounded up the stairs to the main bedroom. The noise grew louder and distinct as I approached the door. I heard what sounded like a giggling voice that could only belong to Sheryl and was soon replaced by a moan.

 

I flung the door open and jumped into the room almost with an intent to surprise.


Tyson and Sheryl were on the bed, both of them naked. Tyson was on his knees groaning while Sheryl knelt before him sucking his cock.

 

I remained where I was feeling a bit disappointed that neither of them seemed to care about my presence. Eventually Tyson turned towards me and snarled, “Shut the fucking door, white boy!

 


The moment of surprise died within me like a balloon letting off its air and I pushed the door shut. Sheryl went on sucking and jerking her lover’s cock to be bothered about me. Her mouth made erotic slurping noise while she did. Eventually he pulled away to catch her breath and threw her hair backward and smiled at my direction. Her face was coated with sweat and saliva.

 

“Hiya, honey,” she waved at me. “How come you’re home so early? I was hoping Tyson and I would get done before you got home.”

 

She said it just as casually like she didn’t mean to add fuel to my misery. Always she was like this whenever I came home and caught her fucking her lover. She knew well enough how powerless I am to want to do anything about it. Tyson was a nightclub bouncer and the thought of me going toe-to-toe with him was a fight I never wanted to get involved in.


Tyson wrapped his arms around her and she cooed as he kissed her breasts.

 

“The fuck you trying to get rid of me ‘cos of him?” asked Tyson.

 

“Of course not, darling,” she said, and kissed him, then burst into giggles as he kissed the side of her neck. “I’m just making conversation with my husband. You don’t mind, do you?”


“Nah, babe. I don’t mind. Just as long as white boy here still won’t mind me playing with you. You’re not gonna mind, are you, white boy?”

 


He glowered at me like he was daring me to say or do something contrary to how he has always treated me since first coming into our lives. I will admit that there have been times when the thought had settled on my mind to actually deck him. Times without number I imagine myself barring him from setting foot in my house ever again as well as snapping at Sheryl not to see him again or else . . .

 

That was a moment that lasted just as fleetingly as it occurred to me. The truth was that I was a wimp. Sheryl knew I was a wimp, and so too did Tyson. Neither of them could resist letting it be known to me how much of a pathetic sissy I was.

 

“No sir,” I said despondently. “I’m not going to mind. Not ever.”

 

“That’s a good boy. Hey, why don’t you stick around and see what I get to do with your old lady, you might learn something.”

 


Tyson laughed as he and Sheryl fell back on the bed with her laughing along with him. The bed’s headboard slammed against the wall which gave that bumping noise I had heard from the living room. He grasped her thigh against his hips. From where I stood, I could see his penis aslant against her crotch, as well Sheryl’s hand as she introduced his penis into her nectar region. Sheryl muttered a sigh when he entered her, as well so did I. Always I marvelled at the sight of Tyson breaking into her pussy. His cock is as thick as a bottle of Coors Lite. I still remember the first time he fucked Sheryl. They made out in the backseat while I drove them from their first date together at a club. Listening to Sheryl scream that night as well hearing her now, it made me realise that no matter what, his cock will forever hold a charm over her that I will never break.

 

Tyson adjusted himself on top Sheryl. He slid his hands underneath her thigh as he began fucking her energetically. Sheryl hiked her feet above his back and clutched him with both arms. Her toes curled as he went on slamming down on her, both of them grunting with effort, especially her moaning harder and harder.

 


“Auuhhh, yeah, fuck me that way, babe,” she whimpered. “Fuck me, fuck me harder, babe.”

 

Tyson grooved back and forth on top of her while he panted against his chin. He brought his hands forward and they kissed passionately. His shoulder muscles stood out prominently as he raised himself on both arms and continued grinding his hips against her crotch. Sheryl gasped and locked her ankles over his. Tyson came up on his knees and went on thrusting in and out of her cunt like he was stabbing her with a sword. In this case, the sword was a ten-inch black rod. His rod was making my Sheryl buck wild and slam her head either side of the bed, and mouth off like crazy.

 

Tyson kept on fucking her just like that. Rivulet of sweat ran down his chin all the way to his abdomen. He played with Sheryl’s clit while still keeping in tandem with fucking her. Sheryl couldn’t stop squealing her delight. Her lust was so obvious on her face. I felt so jealous of her, of what she was enjoying, of the fact that I stood there in the centre of our bedroom helplessly watching her enjoy herself whereas I had nothing. I couldn’t make love to her the way Tyson does. In fact, I couldn’t dare attempt to try and receive foreplay from her. Not without her lover’s consent, which he won’t ever give.

 

She pulled herself upwards and rested on her elbows. She planted her feet on either side of Tyson and began thrusting back at him. Tyson ran his hands over her breasts; he twiddled her nipples which got her whimpering harder. She came forward and wrapped herself around him and humped him like that until he fell on his face and she mounted him.

 


Sheryl moaned what sounded like a savage cry as she now got to be on top her lover. I watched her bounce her butt hard on him, taking every length of his cock inside her. I came around to the other side of the bed, too mesmerised to watch the roundness of her butt slamming down on Tyson and listening to her spontaneous screams as she repeated her action more aggressively.

 

Tyson smacked her butt as she leaned forward over him. I caught him smiling at me. His smile dug into just how pathetic I was standing there and watching another man fuck my wife in my bedroom with me too helpless to do anything about it.

 

“Like what you see, cucky,” he laughed at me. “I’ll bet you wish you were fucking this pussy, don’t you, cucky.” He smacked Sheryl’s butt as if to emphasis what he meant.

 

“Don’t you mind Josh, babe,” Sheryl glanced at my way and crackled. “Josh’s got a tiny weenie penis. He can’t do nothing with it besides piss through it.”

 

They laughed in unison.

 

I turned and walked towards the door with my shoulders hanging downward like an umbrella.

 

“Where’re you going, Josh?” Sheryl called after me.

 

“I’m going downstairs to get myself a slice of cake,” I replied before walking out of the room. Even when I shut the door I couldn’t get rid of the noises they were making upstairs.






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