She realized the reason she was angry was because she had consented, not because she hadn’t. Suddenly her condemnations of Sam were turned back on h...r. Some part of her saw that he wanted to use her as a urinal and decided to let it happen.“Can you please give me some space to think?”“Sure. I have to get ready for work now anyway.” He hung up the showerhead and turned towards the door, pausing to look back at her. “I just want you to know, I didn’t mean to cause any real offence.”She was aware. It was done. I rose from the sofa and walked into our bedroom. Julie had the sheets pulled up covering herself. Her face was red from being over-heated and looked like she had just run a marathon. Before I spoke, Julie looked at me and said these sentences that changed me forever…“Oh my God. That was like nothing I have ever felt.”“I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to walk again.” “I don’t love him… you know that. I love only you.”“I mean, it just kinda happened and I couldn’t stop. ” She leaned over and kissed me again, “Why don’t you make some tea for us and a coffee for Abe?” she asked. “Abe takes two sugars.” Another cuckold ritual was now facing me. Taking your wife and her lover a cup of tea or coffee next morning was another humiliation that cuckolds get put through. Many times I have read about the cuckold doing this, now it was my turn. At least I wasn’t going to be faced with the aftermath of a night of sex. Trish got up and went back to the bedroom and I. The weekend was still interesting. On Saturday Dad threw a party for his staff. True to family tradition, he, that is to say, we, cooked everything ourselves and Layla Patterson, his secretary, came over to help. She was a very good looking African American woman, somewhat younger than my dad, and there was something about her that made me think I should know her, but I couldn't place it. Dad solved the riddle while we were preparing the dinner. "George, I believe you are in some of the same.