The Big Ben

Warning: cuckold, humiliation, plot-driven.

Tim and Megan lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood away from their troubled childhood in the city. Their parents were connected through a web of downtown tycoons for all of their lives, and growing up in the cold corporate world was not easy for either of them.

Tim had decided to take care of his own branch of business, becoming a prominent consultant in the media, while his wife had followed him closely as an assistant and taken care of their new home, away from it all. They invested their time and money in that secluded and cozy colonial house in the leafy outskirts of the city, where they could breathe and raise their only child, Daniel.

Their son had turned eighteen and had moved out for college, which meant they had the house all for themselves. Throughout the turbulent years, Megan had evolved from a casually beautiful young lady, into a casually beautiful mature lady, forty years old. Her round face with glossy blue eyes had acquired a deeper charm, her mouth had become fuller, as well as her body. At five foot five, her legs were a thick shape, her waist was still tight, and her large breasts had dropped a bit, creating more movement.

Tim on the other hand, had preserved his youthful face and fit body quite well. At forty-two, his hairline had receded a bit, and his five foot ten posture was more curved, but he exercised frequently and kept his body well-shaven. A shadow of the young man had now faded into a mild grown-up who listened more and protested less. He and Megan had lived through a twenty-year marriage without too much drama, until something unusual happened...

Hugh was an intricate character. Tim had met the man many years in the past, through his father, as they were old partners when his father's company had skyrocketed. But it was only when Tim had turned forty, that they had started collaborating. Hugh had come back from Europe and was willing to invest and grow a news branch in the country, and Tim had been working under his wing for two years, and their relationship escalated from casual partners into casual friends.

One drink here, a ride to the local golf club there, and lots of negotiations over late-night bars, had quickly become normal between them. Hugh was a very friendly, rather warm type, especially after a few drinks. He was also a big man, tall and broad all around, even in his mid-sixties. His dark blue eyes glinted mischievously every time they talked. His big bulbous nose and thick stubble, as well as his shiny bald head, added a certain charm and humor to his manly features. But it was his voice that really resonated with everyone.

Contrary to Tim's calm and calculated voice, Hugh's bass vibrated through the air and warmed up any room. He commanded people with a certain paternal tone, and made them laugh, and convinced them to do things they would not normally do. In the back of Tim's mind, he knew that was all part of a game. The game of male dominance, one he himself had never managed to fully conquer. Tim was a decent and logical man, one who convinced people through actions. But Hugh... the older client was more than a businessman, he was an actor, an entertainer.

Women giggled and blushed around him, men welcomed him with warm handshakes and eager postures. He made people slightly uncomfortable with his jokes, but at the same time, he captured their best and made them collaborate with his ideas. He carried a golden age masculinity that was becoming more and more rare, something Tim's father had possessed in his youth. And that is why Hugh was a dangerous man.

Tim should have known better than to invite that man into his own house, into his family life, and let his sweet wife in the presence of that captivating type. But how could he have guessed, that a man over twenty years older than him, an almost paternal figure, would have been a threat? In his wildest nightmares, Megan would have cheated on him with a handsome young stud, a demigod with a perfect jaw and chiseled body, not a man old enough to be his father, and big enough to fill a couch.

Hugh showed up to the barbecue on a Saturday afternoon, a rather sunny one. The house was filled with the warmth of fresh meat and soft music, and twelve friends and neighbors of their intimate circle, including Mark - Tim's older partner, and the only person Hugh was familiar with on that occasion.

In his casual shorts and white polo shirt, Tim opened the door for Hugh. The man stood there with his truck's keys in his right hand, and a warm grin on his bearded face. He wore beach shorts and a tropical shirt, something a little unusual for him, which made his thick arms more apparent. He joked around and complimented their living room, and was swiftly introduced to people as they made their way to the backyard.

Megan sat by the pool with the neighbor's wife, Adriana. Megan was in her tight white shorts and revealing tank top, her soft feet shining in her flat summer sandals as she played with the water and giggled about something. Adriana was almost as beautiful as her, but a couple years younger, and a louder mouth. Hugh immediately focused on Megan as soon as he saw her, like most men did. She often radiated a feminine beauty that was unavoidable, a certain soft charm.

She noticed him as well, as the men approached the pool. She looked at him with a distracted air, her mouth slightly open, in the middle of saying something, until something glinted in her eyes and she seemed to realize who he was.

"Honey, this is Hugh," Tim said, patting the man on the shoulder, and then grabbing her by the hand and helping her stand up. "Hugh, my beautiful wife Megan."

"Beautiful indeed," Hugh said, as he shook hands with her, his large hand dwarfing her dainty fingers. "Nice to meet you, Megan."

"Nice to meet you, Hugh," Megan said in her soft tone, smiling with the compliment. "Tim talks about you. Thank you for all your help."

"You're more than welcome. Tim is a talented man and I'm glad to work with him," Hugh replied, his hand still holding hers, in a rather endless handshake. "But I didn't know he was also a lucky husband."

Megan looked at Adriana and they both chuckled. She blushed ever so slightly, like a teenager, and carefully came out of the handshake and played with her long wavy hair. Tim laughed along to break the awkward energy.

"I mean, he's right, I'm pretty lucky, huh?"

"You flatter me," Megan replied playfully. "Do you guys want beer? Adriana, soda?" she asked as she turned around. She always dealt with awkward moments in a casual manner.

The men accepted the offer, while Adriana refused the soda. Megan walked into the house, as Tim talked to her friend, but in the corner of his eyes, he could not help but notice Hugh following his wife's every step, a strange smirk on his face.

When Megan came back with the beer, Hugh thanked her with a certain irony in his voice, and they sat down on the lounge chair and talked for quite a while. He asked her about their marriage, about Tim's past, and then about her own life. He was calm and playful and she soon melted like most people did, and shared details about their journey raising Daniel. Tim watched closely and added comments here and there, and the afternoon went along.

But in the back of his mind, he could not help but notice a different energy around Megan and Hugh. At first, he thought his client was using his usual playful charm to disarm her, to make her overshare and captivate her the way he had captivated the women at the office, but there was something else. The man looked at her for longer, and his body language was more intense, more... masculine than usual. It was almost as if he was trying to flirt with her. Right in front of everyone. But it could not be, Tim concluded after two more beers. Hugh was too old and too bald for her, and her body looked awkwardly dwarfed by his large frame.

As Hugh joked about his divorce, and his rather awful ex-wife, she laughed more and more openly and wanted to know things about him as well. He talked about his business in Europe, and his two daughters, who were both married in England, and his younger son Carl who had assumed his place as he came back to the country. After watching them talk for a while, Tim felt slightly left out. Adriana had sat next to her husband and they talked about something else. The sun was warmer and the meat was starting to burn, so Tim decided to walk away for a while.

He took care of the food, and then walked into the house to use the toilet. As he entered the bathroom and closed the door, he could not help but feel a hint of jealousy spreading in his chest. He was used to being slightly jealous throughout the years, and felt more protective of Megan naturally, every time she met someone new and handsome, whether it was at a party, or a downtown bar, or even at work, but those were usually younger, more immature types. The type of guys he knew she would not care about.

He had learned she had a thing for older men. It came out as they watched movies and TV shows. The way she always made a comment about a handsome older actor on the screen, maybe as a joke, maybe to provoke him, and the way she had once confessed a crush on a school coach. In fact, Tim was not sure if that was all part of a joke, or if she was serious, but that had always made him slightly jealous, because he could not have that appearance. Even at forty-two, he was far from looking like an older hunk. His face still preserved a rather youthful structure, and he lacked the proportions.

"I could make turns around you, old man," he thought as the urine hit the water, thinking of kicking Hugh's fat gut, using his years of training in boxing for something useful. The thought of defending his sweet and faithful wife from a guy like Hugh brought a silent laugh. He dismissed his own worry, concluding his suspicions were ridiculous. It could not be. His client was a smart and mature man.

When he came out of the house again, he observed Megan from afar. Her dark blonde hair glistened as she threw her head back laughing. Hugh almost touched her ear, telling her something apparently very funny. She had never looked so comfortable and enchanted with a man before. Enough was enough.

"Honey, come here," Tim said, grabbing her by the hand gently.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders naturally, and they kissed romantically. She smiled awkwardly and looked at him inquisitively.

"Tim, are you drunk?" she asked and giggled.

Tim noticed Hugh observed them in the corner of his eye. The man had the usual grin on his face, and the action did not seem to have any effect on him. He gazed at Megan like a father looked at his favorite child.

After a while, Megan joined Adriana and her friends in the kitchen, while Tim connected Hugh with Adriana's husband, Pete, and the older partner Mark. The men talked about work for a while, but the conversation naturally gravitated around Hugh's life. He told old tales of his European adventures, and the psychotic way his wife had tried to take everything from him, after she had suspected he had cheated on him. The cheating was never confirmed, and she came out of the divorce with less money than she had intended.

The men seemed to think that was funny. Pete sat back, his former jock body taking more space, while Mark relaxed his big old legs and fat gut and sipped more beer. Both were fascinated by Hugh's storytelling, and reacted to every new twist as if they knew each other very closely. Tim sat quietly and observed the way Pete's golden retriever jumped in front of the pool and patted the water repeatedly.

"Why was she jealous, after all?" Pete asked.

"Hugh is a womanizer, that's why," Mark observed and let out a cheesy chuckle. The rumors had circulated in the office.

"So... she was right?" Pete assumed.

Hugh grinned and took a long sip from a beer bottle. Then he spoke cryptically.

"Let's say she got what she deserved for hanging out with the yoga teacher too often."

The men could not help but laugh at the sudden revelation. Mark patted Hugh on the shoulder.

"Good thing you had access to the best lawyers England could provide," he observed wisely.

Being the drunkest in the group, Pete seemed to think that was hilarious, his face turning red as he cackled and choked on his beer.

"But wait... who cheated first?" he asked after recovering.

"Hmm, wouldn't you like to know?" Hugh said ironically, prompting more laughs.

Mark, the old rascal, apparently thought that was the right moment to drop one of his provocative remarks.

"When you have a cock the size of the Big Ben, women get loose more quickly, right Hugh?"

"W-what?" Pete stuttered between laughs.

"You know, that's actually accurate," Hugh said. He seemed interested in stimulating Mark. "It's kinda boring trying to stretch something that's already loose."

"Wow... don't let the girls hear any of that," Tim said.

Pete stood up for more beer and pointed a finger at Hugh's chest.

"You stay away from Adriana, Big Ben."

"Don't worry, buddy, you're safe," Hugh replied, and then looked at Tim, his eyes glinting for a brief second.

The afternoon went along faster, after enough alcohol. Thankfully, the girls remained inside, moving to the living room as they watched some reality show and gossiped about funny neighbors. When it was time to part ways, Hugh seemed a little altered, and Tim insisted he should call a driver.

Hugh ignored Tim's concern, but also refused to leave until he finished another beer. He then held Megan's hand, kissed her soft skin slowly and told her she was gorgeous. She giggled with the women, as Tim burned in the corner. Mark's wife, Patricia, was the only one completely sober, and offered a ride.

Hugh and Mark entered the backseat, chuckling too much, and the car soon disappeared down the street, the strong sunset almost blinding everyone. Pete and Adriana were the last ones to leave. He held her shoulders and they walked slowly back to their house on the other side of the street, surrounded by large trees and tall fences.

Tim and Megan sat back on the couch and lazily watched TV as the sky darkened outside. She lay her head on his lap and he caressed her hair.

"So, did you like Hugh?" he asked all of a sudden.

"He's a fun guy," she replied. "I can't believe we didn't know each other this whole time."

"Well, he's a busy type, always traveling," Tim observed.

"So he's recently divorced?" she asked.

"Yeah, well, it happened two years ago. Why do you ask?"

"Does he have a girlfriend?"

"I don't know. Probably not. Sometimes when people divorce, they need some time alone."

"Oh, I'm sure he will find someone soon," she said with her rather innocent tone. "He's rich and... very interesting, isn't he?"

"Interesting, huh? How so?"

She suddenly looked at him with a curious face.

"What? Are you jealous or something?"

"No, I'm just asking... you seemed to like him a lot," Tim let out. "Like, you two were talking and laughing for a while, right?"

"Well, he was telling me about his abusive wife, and it was a very funny story. He told me about the time she tried to run him over with a truck."

"Oh, yeah, that's a funny one..." Tim admitted. "But what about all the whispering in your ear, what was that about?" he inquired, trying to sound casual.

Megan stared at the TV screen and did not answer for a while.

"I don't know... he's kinda physical, isn't he? Like, he's a funny big man, and a bit physical."

"He's a big man, huh? He's older too, right? Do you like that?" Tim asked, the hurt coming out of his voice.

Megan finally realized his train of thought, and her face was a little shocked.

"Oh, Tim, don't be ridiculous... I don't find him attractive, if that's what you're implying," she said meekly, and she sat away from him and crossed her legs.

For a long time, Tim knew that his sweet wife crossed her legs every time she had to tell a lie.

"He's kinda your type, no?" Tim provoked.

"No, he's not, really. He's regular-looking and large like a wardrobe. Happy?" she turned to him a little aggressively.

"Sorry, I had to check," Tim said, feeling dubious.

"So what, you thought I wanted to fuck your client? What kind of whore do you take me for?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, honey. It's just that Hugh is a very magnetic man, and like Mark said, he is in fact a womanizer. I mean, I've heard the rumors..."

"You seem to like him more than me," she observed. After a pause, she added the question, "What rumors did you hear?"

"You know, just boy talk. People say he hooks up with his assistants, and he's always replacing them."

"Ew, that sounds gross. So he objectifies the women he works with?"

"That's not what I said... it's more like the other way around. They can't resist his charm."

Megan let out a sound of exasperation.

"He's not that attractive. Plus, how old is he? Sixty-something?"

"Look, I don't want you to think he's a bad guy. He's helped us a lot, but I was just thinking earlier... are you satisfied with our sex life?"

"What? What's wrong with our sex life?"

"It's just that... we don't get adventurous anymore. When was the last time we did something new?"

"New like... anal or something?" she asked jokingly.

He could not help but laugh. They had never practiced anal in their marriage, and Megan had always shown opposition to the idea.

"Not that, don't worry," he joked back. "You ass is safe. But what if... we go out more often, or something..."

"To a club or something? I can't do that kind of stuff anymore. I'm very happy here," she argued.

They remained quiet for a while, Tim feeling a little strange, as if he wanted to say something, but did not know exactly what. He revised the conversation in his own head, as they watched the TV screen, trying to decide what to do next.

But Megan was the one to make the next move. She stood up all of a sudden, and stared at him quietly. He gazed at her beautiful round eyes for a while, and noticed her skin was glowing with a new energy, as if a fire had been ignited inside her. She reached for her tight tank top and took it off, revealing her beige bra that pressed her large breasts in a sexy grip.

She straddled him, sitting on his lap and looking down at him, her silky udders now an inch from his face. He grabbed them with both hands, and slowly pulled them out of the cups. Her pink nipples jumped out, and a second later he was sucking on them. He felt his average member quickly come to life.

Something about jealousy had apparently turned her on. Maybe it was the fact that being desired reminded her of youthful adventures, like the way Tim had felt jealous of her muscular cousin, when they were still engaged to be married. She moaned as he sucked and grabbed her tits, and hugged his fit torso tight.

He grabbed her round ass, and lifted her up in the air, carrying her frame carefully out of the living room, and up the stairs. He could lift her for a while, but the weight of her juicy legs and large breasts became a problem as he walked faster through the corridor and into their bedroom. He grunted and threw her against the mattress, falling on top. She squealed and chuckled, and grabbed his back with her legs.

He removed his polo shirt, exposing his muscular chest, shaved and well-defined, and his flat belly which she caressed with her soft palms. Then he went down on her, biting her neck, her breasts, and gently kissing her small waist. Unbuttoning her shorts, and pulling them slowly away from her perfect legs and dainty feet, revealing her pink cotton panties.

He looked at her crotch and could not help but smirk. She was wet for him, wetter than normal, and he slowly revealed her pussy, which was always shaved and perfect, with lovingly symmetrical pink lips and a small clitoris. He ate her pussy out for a while, as she grabbed and pulled his hair, and moaned and giggled. Tim admitted to himself that was his favorite part. Pleasuring her orally and noticing how her body reacted as his tongue slid over her crotch, her vulva, and especially her clit, making turns around it and then going for the perfect spot.

He kept it going until she spasmed and moaned louder, and then he kneeled between her legs, and took his dick out. It jumped out like a spring, fully erect, its average length and girth throbbing in front of her. Suddenly an intrusive thought came in, and he wondered how much bigger Hugh's member was.

When he penetrated her entrance, and fell on top of her body, hugging and kissing her neck, she enveloped his body with arms and legs. They made passionate love for a few minutes, until... he could not do it anymore. For the first time in almost twenty years, he lost his erection, and could not get it up again for the life of him. She looked at him with a confused expression.

"Honey, what's wrong?" she whispered.

"I... I don't know..." he stuttered, grabbing his softening dick and masturbating it, trying to revive what he knew was already gone.

Tim lay by her side, breathing heavily, feeling awkward and defeated. He did not know what to say. It was a moment he had feared for ages, that he thought would be impossible next to Megan's lovely body. Deep down, he knew what the problem was. She stared at him for a while and caressed her hair.

"It's okay, baby. You're probably tired..." she said.

"Yeah, I think I am..." he agreed slowly. "It was a tough week, sorry..."

"I'll take a shower, then." She stood up and walked into the private bathroom.

Tim could not believe it for a while. A wave of warm shame filled his torso and spread slowly to his limbs and his face. For so long he had desired her body more than anything else, idolizing her feminine shape, her succulent curves, every detail of the love of his life, but something inside him felt broken, as if decades of caring had finally collided, and the doubt quickly took hold of his mind.

He suddenly felt rather drunk and tired, and his thoughts faded into an unconscious sleep, one he had not experienced in a big while. At some point, later in the night, he felt a presence beside him, and the smell of her hair, and then it was all dark again.

He woke up late in the morning, a slight headache bothering him, signaling he had slept for too long. Megan was not there. He heard the sound of music downstairs, and a hint of coffee scent.

He sat down on the bed, rubbing his eyes, and the memories of the previous day started to form again. A confident and magnetic Hugh sitting beside Megan, making her laugh and saying things in her ear. A dirty conversation about Hugh's messy marriage, and a candid mention of his dick size. An unexpected kiss on her hand. A rather awkward conversation about jealousy on the living room couch. Megan's tits pressed against Tim's face. The taste of her glistening pussy, and the sensation of entering her tight walls, and then... failure.

To make things worse, it happened again and again. Two days later, when he tried to fuck her in the shower, his dick went cold as soon as he entered her, the image of Hugh's grin gravitating in his mind, and he had to apologize to her, and finish her off by getting on his knees, sucking her clitoris meekly. Megan was beginning to look rather disappointed, and confused, and tried to ask him if it was her fault, if it was something she had said or done. He denied it and said it was his problem, but refused to explain why.

Then another week later, when they went out to their favorite restaurant to make things better, and came back home late at night, he tried to fuck her again. This time, he was not even able to enter her - his member softening uncontrollably as he burst into tears and she caressed his hair and tried to comfort him.

"Honey, what's wrong? You need to tell me," she said softly.

"I can't... I'm sorry..." he whispered.

"What about Hugh?" she asked all of a sudden.

"What about Hugh?" he repeated, almost choking.

She released a deep breath of exasperation.

"Do you miss Hugh? Should I invite him again?" Tim provoked.

"I don't know. Would that make you happy?" she said sarcastically. "Maybe I should ask him about the Big Ben."

"Oh, really? Have you been thinking about that?" Tim felt his face burn. She had heard about it.

"I think YOU have been thinking about it more than I!" she suggested.

They had a tense day after that discussion. She became increasingly frustrated with the fact that he refused to open up about it. He became increasingly depressed that she was losing interest in even trying to have sex with him, afraid that it would happen again, the stress of being rejected more sex taking a toll on her. He insisted too many times that it was not her fault, and offered to please her orally, but after a while, it was not enough.

At work, Tim could barely look at Hugh's face, ashamed of his internal struggle, and afraid the client would find out somehow. The man definitely seemed to notice there was something off, as Tim avoided being alone with him, and refused to have a drink at the usual bar, instead staying in the office until the sky was dark, reflecting alone to himself what he should do to fix his... sexual deficiency.

After a month of failed erections and awkward attempts at pleasing Megan, she was finally over it. They had a big argument over the dinner table. She was upset he was hiding something from her, knowing there was a cause for his strange behavior. He became enraged with her attitude, her insistence that he should somehow reveal what he was afraid of, and the fact that she could not trust him and just wait until things went back to normal. He tried to argue that he was burned out, but she knew there was something else.

And he could see the sexual anxiety in her glossy blue eyes. The night of the argument, he woke up to her touching herself under the sheets, moaning and yearning for something in her own dreams. She whispered something very similar to the word "huge". Tim stayed awake and heard her prolonged breathing for a while. He wished he could have helped her, but the fear of another failure was stronger.

Megan needed sex badly. Really good and intense sex. And he would have to do something about that. It was time to admit the truth to himself. One Friday at sunset, when Megan had left for Adriana's house, Tim entered the private bathroom and took a long steaming shower. When he was done, he slowly rubbed his own body with the towel, but instead of wrapping it around his waist, he put it back down, and stared at the naked image in the mirror.

His fit and muscular shape, with chiseled pecs and a flat belly, wide shoulders and well-defined biceps, all carefully shaved or trimmed. Even his armpits were kept smooth and fresh. The only hairy parts of his body were his underarms and his legs, which had a light layer of groomed fur. His soft and average penis looked slightly disproportionate compared to his masculine shape. It shriveled sadly even in the steam of the moment, while his smooth testicles appeared smaller than usual.

He grabbed the phone from the pocket of his jacket, and called Hugh's number. The man answered five seconds later. Tim's heart jumped heavily in his chest, the blood warming up his face. It was time to let his pride aside and reveal his true self. To make a decision that would benefit Megan, and possibly his marriage.

"Buddy, what's up?" said Hugh's masculine voice.

"Hello, Hugh, sir," Tim stuttered.

"Sir? Huh... that's new." The older man chuckled on the other side.

"I'm calling you to confess something," Tim said slowly.

There was a pause, in which Hugh seemed to consider what he had heard.

"Confess? Go ahead," he said calmly.

"I... I can't make love to my wife anymore... I'm struggling with some kind of erectile dysfunction," Tim let out.

"What?!" Hugh barked, and then broke out laughing.

"Well, you don't have to laugh... I thought you could help me."

There was another awkward pause and an anxious silence.

"You're serious?" Hugh asked in a more appropriate tone. "Erectile dysfunction, really? Uh... I'm sorry, buddy. That must be tough, especially in front of that gorgeous woman."

"Yes, it's very tough, and I don't know what to do," Tim whimpered, as he stared at his own sad penis, now slightly less shriveled. "It started around a month ago, right after that barbecue, remember?"

"After that barbecue at your house? Wait, what do you mean? Tim, why are you telling me this?" Hugh was genuinely curious.

"I'm telling you this because..." Tim took a deep breath. His penis twitched ever so slightly. "Because I believe you are the reason I can't get it up anymore."

Instead of laughing again, like Tim would have expected, Hugh was silent for a second, and then calmly spoke in a warm tone.

"I'm the reason, Tim? Explain yourself," he almost commanded.

"Ever since you and Megan met, I've felt jealous and afraid. I saw the way she loved talking to you, and how comfortable you two were. This might come as a surprise, but Megan has a type." Tim felt his dick twitching again, and slowly coming back to life.

"She's into older men?" Hugh asked casually, surprising Tim.

"Yes, exactly... and after that event, we had a conversation about it, and I asked her if she found you attractive. She denied it, but I knew immediately she was not telling the truth. My wife, Megan, is a sweet woman, and her feelings are evident." As the confession continued, Tim looked at his stupid reflection again, and his penis grew rapidly and throbbed into a full boner.

"So you think Megan was attracted to me? And that bothered you to the point of... erectile dysfunction?" Hugh inquired, using the tone of a doctor.

"Yes, exactly. Hugh, sir, we've been partners for a few years. Can I be completely honest with you?" His voice was shaking a bit. He needed the permission to say what he was about to say.

"You may, buddy," Hugh said in a breathy tone.

"Every time I try to have sex with my wife, you come to mind. I can't avoid it, like an intrusive thought. And then I lose my erection." His penis pointed upward, twitching violently with the absurd confession.

"What do you think, exactly? Be more specific," Hugh commanded more clearly.

"To be frank, I think of your size... the Big Ben."

Hugh let out a mean chuckle on the other side.

"My notorious Big Ben, huh?"

"I wonder... how much bigger it is than me, and how Megan would react to it."

"Oh, naturally... I see..." Hugh said slowly. "But why would you tell me that?"

"Because I was thinking... I need to do something about this problem. My wife needs sex. Good sex. And I can't give it to her anymore."

"Okay... and... are you implying what I think you are implying?"

"Hugh, sir... can I call you sir?" Tim asked anxiously.

"Yes, boy, you may call me sir," Hugh replied knowingly.

"Would you like to have dinner with us, sir? This evening at our house?"

There was an electrifying pause.

"Does she know?" Hugh asked.

"Not yet. But don't worry, I believe she wants you."

"I know she wants me. I'm not an idiot," Hugh replied more coldly. "We had a lovely conversation that day. I may have let out a detail or two..."

"So you told her about the..."

"The Big Ben? I may have mentioned it..."

"Give it to her, sir. Please, give it to her," Tim begged more openly.

"Are you sure, Timmy? Do you understand what you're asking me to do? What about your marriage?"

"I believe you have to give her what she needs, sir," Tim tried to explain carefully. "I believe this will save our sex life. If she doesn't get sexual gratification soon, everything will fall apart."

"You think your client fucking your wife will save your sex life?" Hugh asked slowly.

"I have been reflecting on it," Tim continued carefully. "I want to have a say in this situation. I'm aware of what happens when couples stop fucking. I need external help, and I believe it's better if it's you. Someone I know and trust."

"You're welcoming the cuckolding before it happens behind your back. Smart boy. But what if she decides to leave you anyway?"

"I believe she won't. Maybe I'm just stupid. But I need to know that, when it happens, it was my decision, not hers..." Tim admitted.

Hugh remained silent for a minute, seemingly analyzing the situation like a businessman would, or at least that was what Tim imagined, as his penis twitched pathetically in the mirror, as hard as a diamond.

"I see what you mean. Very well. If that's what your wife needs, I'll give it to her," the older man concluded casually.

"T-thank you, sir," Tim said shaking. He had never felt that excited before. "I will tell her you're coming immediately. I believe she will pretend not to like it, initially, but you will have the perfect scenario to make her comfortable."

Hugh released a sound of approval.

"A few glasses of wine will do the trick," he said objectively. "You know, Timmy, I have to confess," he added, his voice dripping with a certain disdain. "Deep down, I always knew you were a cuck."

"A cuck?" Tim felt an odd shiver run through his chest.

"Yes, a cuck. It's time you admit that part, don't you think? Trying to spice up your sex life is one brave move. But I think you also crave something else. Humiliation."

"You are correct, sir," Tim whispered.

"Why is that, Timmy? Be honest," Hugh demanded firmly.

"I want the humiliation of losing to you. It excites me to imagine you overpowering me and my wife." Tim felt his legs shaking. Saying those words was particularly surreal.

Hugh exhaled and scorned.

"I can smell boys like you easily. Part of you enjoyed seeing her sit close to me, right? I even whispered something naughty in her ear when you came back. Did you enjoy that little gesture?"

"So it was deliberate..." Tim whispered. "What did you whisper in her ear?"

"I whispered that one of the reasons I slept with other women, was that my wife couldn't handle my sexual appetite. I suspect Megan enjoyed knowing that detail."

"I wonder if she thought about it... as I failed to have an erection," Tim suggested slowly.

"Oh, I can almost bet she did," Hugh replied quickly, aware of the game he was playing. "I'm coming to fuck her, Timmy. I will fuck her hard, like a real man should. And when I'm done, she will be addicted to the Big Ben."

"Please, be nice to her," Tim moaned.

"I will be rough with her, give her what she truly wants. Now tell me, Timmy, how tight is her pussy?"

"Fuck... it's pretty tight, and so warm..."

"Good boy. Tell me more... is it smooth?"

"Yes, sir, smooth and waxed regularly. She has the most perfect pussy I've ever seen," Tim confessed, his heart throbbing like crazy.

"How big are you, Timmy?"

"W-what?"

"Come on, you can tell me. Don't lie to me," Hugh encouraged.

"Six inches, sir," Tim whispered.

"Pretty average, huh? Is it even thick?"

"Not much..."

"She will be really tight, then, especially for me," Hugh provoked. Tim could almost see the man grinning. "Guess how big the Big Ben is."

"Uh... eight inches?"

"Bigger, come on..."

"Nine inches."

"Bigger, buddy," Hugh barked.

"Ten inches?!" Tim asked, his mouth gaping.

"Bingo. Ten inches long, seven inches thick," Hugh said, his voice dripping with confidence.

"SEVEN inches thick? Are you sure?" Tim started to regret his proposal. A penis that thick would stretch Megan beyond return.

"I've had a tape around my prick quite a few times. You know, women get curious," Hugh explained. "It's huge all around. But don't worry, although women struggle to take it, they end up creaming and cumming on it very often."

"I don't know if she will take the entire thing..."

"Don't worry, I'll make her take the entire thing. I'm an expert in the field. Now tell me, how big are her tits?" Hugh continued.

"Thirty-four triple Ds... heavy and pendulous when they come out," Tim replied promptly. Megan's large natural breasts were a dirty obsession of his.

"Sounds nice, Timmy. What size and color are her nipples?"

"Big and puffy with large areolas... and light pink, sir."

"Sweet, very sweet. I can't wait to suck on them like a hungry baby," Hugh said in a breathy tone. "And I also can't wait to ruin her pussy for you."

"R-ruin her pussy?" Tim stuttered.

"Yeah, ruin her tight pussy with my giant schlong, Little Timmy."

"L-little Timmy?"

"Little-Timmy. Little-cuck-Timmy," Hugh sang shamelessly. "Tiny-beta-Timmy. Limp-sissy-Timmy. I'm coming to stretch your wife's pussy, and who knows, I might even knock her up."

The nasty insinuation was too much for Tim to handle, and he finally erupted in a strong, hands-free orgasm, his dick twitching violently upward, spraying over the steamed-up mirror. The pathetic moan that came out of his mouth was perceptible on the other end. Hugh chuckled knowingly in his ear.

But as Tim hung up the phone, and the orgasm wore off, his mind and body slowly came back to normal. He was slowing down from an entire month of sexual tension, and finally realizing what he had done. He had a marriage of twenty years, and a son in college, and a beautiful home... but he had risked it all. He had practically spread his cheeks for his secret rival, and openly admitted his true self to him over a phone call. The nasty fucker was coming to try and fuck his wife! On a dumb whim, Tim had given that old bastard a free pass to conquer everything.

And now the denial was melting away, and Tim admitted to himself the deepest truth: He had been secretly masturbating to the thought of Hugh conquering Megan. That was part of the reason he was unable to maintain an erection, he knew deep down. The dirty secret he had kept even from himself, unable to admit such a filthy desire, was now facing him in the mirror. He wanted to be a cuck so bad! He wanted Hugh to dominate his marriage, and make Megan cream! And now it was time to face the consequences of his sickening desire.

* * *

The dining room glowed softly under the chandelier's warm light, casting a cozy ambiance over the polished oak table. Tim moved with fake ease, setting down plates of roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed asparagus he had spent two hours preparing. The savory aroma mingled with the faint jazz playing from the living room speakers, creating an intimate atmosphere.

Megan sat at one end of the table, her glossy blue eyes sparkling as she laughed at something Hugh said. Her dark blonde hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders. Her fitted rosy dress hugged her curves, and accentuated her full breasts and tight waist. Hugh, imposing in his tailored gray dress shirt, leaned slightly toward her, his broad frame dominating the space. His deep voice rumbled with charm, each word laced with that magnetic warmth Tim had come to both admire and dread.

"Tim, this looks good," Hugh said, his dark blue eyes glinting as he raised a glass of red wine. "You've outdone yourself, buddy."

"Thank you, sir," Tim replied, his voice steady but quieter than usual.

He placed the last dish on the table and took his seat across from Megan and Hugh, the table forming a subtle triangle between them. Megan smiled at him, her expression warm but distracted, her attention drifting back to Hugh as he launched into another story about his European ventures. Tim poured himself a generous glass of wine, the bottle already half-empty from their pre-dinner chatter.

The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine. Megan's laughter grew freer with each glass, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. Hugh's anecdotes became more animated and his large hand occasionally brushed Megan's arm, as he emphasized a point. Tim noticed the touches - brief and almost accidental, but deliberate enough to stir something in his gut. He sipped his wine, watching his wife lean in, her lips parted slightly as she hung on Hugh's words. The older man's charm was effortless, his bass voice filling the room like a warm blanket, wrapping Megan in its spell.

"So, Megan," Hugh said, swirling his wine, his eyes locked on hers, "Tim tells me you're quite the gardener. Bet you've got a magic touch with those roses in the back." His tone was playful but there was an edge to it, a subtle shift that made Tim's pulse quicken.

Megan giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, I don't know about magic, but I do love my garden. Keeps me grounded."

"Grounded, huh?" Hugh's grin widened and his gaze lingered on her. "A woman like you, I bet you could make anything bloom." His voice dropped lower, and Megan's blush deepened.

She glanced at Tim, her eyes searching for a moment, but he only smiled shyly, and raised his glass in a silent toast. The wine kept flowing, bottle after bottle, and the air grew looser, charged with an unspoken tension. Hugh's compliments became bolder, his body language more open. He leaned closer to Megan, his broad shoulder nearly brushing hers, as he refilled her glass.

"You know," he said, his voice a low rumble, "a woman as stunning as you deserves to be spoiled. Tim's a lucky man, but I bet he doesn't tell you that enough."

Megan laughed, but it was softer now, almost nervous. She looked at Tim again, and her eyes flickered with something - maybe curiosity, or uncertainty. Tim felt his chest tighten, but he kept his expression neutral, sipping his wine. He noticed her legs shift under the table, one crossing over the other - the gesture he knew too well; she was holding something back. As the meal wound down, Hugh stretched back in his chair, his large frame relaxed but still commanding.

"This was a hell of a spread, Tim," he said, and his eyes briefly met Tim's before sliding back to Megan. "But I'm thinking we should let the chef take a break. Why don't we move this party upstairs? Get a little more... comfortable." His tone was casual but the suggestion hung heavy in the air, like a spark waiting to ignite.

Megan seemed to be holding her breath, her eyes darting at Tim. He felt the weight of her gaze, and the silent question in her blue eyes. His heart pounded in a mix of dread and something darker; something that made his pants feel tighter. He nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly, his lips pressed into a thin line. Megan's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then softened, a strange acceptance shifting her body.

"Sounds... nice," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She stood, smoothing her dress, her movements slow and deliberate.

Hugh rose too, his massive frame towering over her, his hand grazing her lower back, as he gestured toward the stairs. Tim stayed seated for a moment, and watched them ascend; Megan's hips swaying slightly, and Hugh's broad hand lingering just above her waist.

Tim cleared the table methodically, stacking plates, and scraping leftovers into the trash. The clink of dishes was the only sound in the kitchen, as he moved to the sink, and the warm water was soothing on his trembling hands. Then it started - muffled at first, a soft giggle from upstairs, followed by the low rumble of Hugh's voice. Tim froze, a plate slipping slightly in his grip. A faint smack echoed through the ceiling, sharp and unmistakable, followed by Megan's gasp. His stomach churned but his body betrayed him, a familiar heat stirring below his belt.

He scrubbed the dishes harder, trying to focus on the task, but the sounds grew clearer. Kisses - wet and hungry ones - mixed with soft moans. Another smack, louder this time, and Megan's voice, breathy and unrestrained, carried through the floorboards. "Oh, fuck... it's huge!" she let out, the words piercing Tim's chest. He set a plate down, and gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles whitening.

Moving to the kitchen island, he sat on a stool, and the sounds from above were now impossible to ignore. The rhythmic creak of the bed's frame and the steady plap-plap-plap of skin against skin were raw and relentless. Megan's moans escalated, sharp and desperate, each one a dagger to Tim's pride. "So big!" she screamed, her voice cracking with pleasure.

Tim felt the strange mixture of excitement and humiliation. His hand drifted to his lap, where his erection strained painfully against his pants. The mental image of Hugh's massive frame overpowering his wife, stretching her in ways he never could, burned in his mind.

The sounds did not stop. For two hours, the bed creaked, the slaps echoed and Megan's cries grew louder and wilder. She climaxed again and again, her voice breaking into sobs of ecstasy, each one a testament to Hugh's sexual performance. Tim sat frozen, and his body trembled with a mix of arousal and shame. His hand hovered over his crotch, the fabric damp from precum. The moment he pressed his palm against himself, the pressure was too much.

A pathetic moan escaped his lips, and he came hard, his body shuddering as he soaked his pants; the release both wonderful and degrading. He sat there, panting, the sounds from upstairs still going, Megan's voice now faint with sexual defeat. The reality of what he had allowed - and what he had craved - settled over him like a heavy fog. His marriage, his pride, his very sense of self were being reshaped in those two hours, and there was no going back.

Timmy was a cuck. The word echoed in his mind, a whisper of truth slicing through the fog of his thoughts. His body trembled from the orgasm that had soaked his pants. The damp fabric glued to his thighs like a badge of shame and surrender. But even as the physical release faded, a different kind of pleasure took over, warm and fuzzy, spreading through his chest like a burning fire. A deeper, more insidious, twisted satisfaction that pulsed with every muffled moan from upstairs.

He sat at the kitchen island and his hands gripped the edge, and he realized he was savoring this. The humiliation, the surrender, the utter loss of control - it thrilled him in a way he had never known. His mind raced, replaying the events that had led him here. He had invited this, begged for it, handed his wife to Hugh like an offering to a god. The shame of it made his face burn, but that heat only fueled the strange joy inside him.

He was less than Hugh - less of a man, less of a husband - and that truth, raw and unfiltered, felt like a drug. Every time he pictured Megan's eyes rolling back and her full lips parted in ecstasy, and her thick legs wrapped around Hugh's massive frame... his dick twitched again, despite its earlier defeat.

He was a cuck, a pathetic beta, and the realization did not crush him as much as it set him free. The sounds from above never stopped. The bed creaked in a relentless rhythm, that plap-plap-plap a constant reminder of his inadequacy. As a matter of fact, he had never fucked his wife for so long.

Megan's screams had softened into breathless whimpers, punctuated by sharp gasps and cries of "Yes, yes!" and he realized she was getting the pounding of her life. He imagined her stretched beyond return, her perfect pussy ruined by the monstrous size, transformed to serve Hugh's member. He did not want to stop it - he wanted it to go on forever, to drown in the shock of being so utterly outmatched.

Then it came - a roar, deep and primal, shaking the ceiling above. Hugh's voice, triumphant and unrestrained, filled the house as the bed's frame shook one final time. The entire house seemed to shudder; in fact the walls vibrated with the force of his release. Megan's faint cry followed, like a broken sound of surrender and bliss. Tim's heart pounded, his body taken by that strange and fuzzy pleasure. Hugh had claimed her, marked her, and he had let it happen. He sat there, small and trembling, his mind drunk with the perverse joy of his new reality.