Coming clean to a friend about being a cuckold [Fiction][Part three]

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A month has passed since I told Amanda that I’d said to Simon that I was a cuckold and the situation hadn’t improved at all, to the extent that I was wondering if it would ever go back to the way it was. I’d fucked up. No that’s not right; I’d monumentally fucked up. I’d said sorry, tried flowers, a meal out, a trip out, a track day in a Lambo but no, nothing was working. She was still pissed off and nothing seemed to shift her mood.

Text here. Visuals inside.
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Amanda hadn’t even gone out with Mark (her bull) and wasn’t even responding to his ever demanding messages on WhatsApp. (Yes Mark, I am allowed to read them). It had even got to the point where she hadn’t even bothered to shave since she last saw Mark and now her legs, armpits, pussy and arsehole were covered in a thick mat of dark hair. I didn’t mind but I know she’s always been fastidious about keeping everything under control as it becomes obvious how hairy she can be after about 5 days. This situation wasn’t good.

Since day one of her fucking other men we’ve always had an agreement to share number just in case something happens. In all the years, there’s never been any need for me or a bull to get in touch with one another. That however, was about to change.

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Mark (Bull):

What the fuck’s going on? Slut isn’t responding to my messages. My cock needs servicing

Me:

I’m sorry to say that I’ve pissed her off. I’m trying to remedy the situation but she’s not having any of it. I’m struggling to improve her mood but it’s just not shifting from ‘frozen solid’

Mark (Bull):

u fucking clown. Wot u do?

Me:

Told a friend that I’m a cuck and then told her that I’d told my friend.

Mark (Bull):

Is that all? WTF is wrong with that? Everyone can tell ur a fucking cuck u simpering little dweeb.

Listen u pathetic worm, if u don’t sort this out soon Im going to go around and use u as my own personal little fuck toy. Ill shove my rock hard cock so far up ur arse that itll hit ur throat. I’ll rip ur pathetic arsehole to shreds. Stupid man cunt. Sort this shit out now.

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Mark is the type of sneeringly arrogant man I utterly loath. He’s a big bloke who spends far too much time in the gym and has a seriously high opinion of himself despite having almost zero intelligence. He’s an arse and the couple of times we’ve met, we really haven’t got on at all. I think Amanda only likes him because he can chuck her around and dominate her.

So yeah, I’m in the shit. I have a wife who won’t talk to me and a bull who’s threatening extreme violence.

Throughout all of this, the one thing that had helped me maintain some level of sanity was chatting to Simon. We’d parked the whole cuckold chat and were talking about the usual day to day stuff, when suddenly, out of the blue….

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Simon:

Kirsty wants to go out and she’d like to say Hi to you guys as she hasn’t seen you in a while.

Me:

In theory, yes. But Amanda’s still pissed. Let me check first and get back to you.

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For the avoidance of doubt, Kirsty is Simon’s girlfriend. The controlling paranoid nutter who thinks the moon landings were faked and that the one true source of knowledge in the world can be found on Insta where all her fellow woo-woo practitioners seem to congregate. Simon has a long history of finding head cases and Kirsty is up there with the best of the ones who should really be locked up. But to be fair to her, when she’s being normal, she’s really rather lovely.

“Simon and Kirsty would like to go out for a catch up. What shall I say?” I asked Amanda.

“I suppose we were going to have to at some point. I just hope we still have a friendship and it hasn’t gone all weird. Ok, tell them yes. Their call as to when, where etc. But darling….. You’re paying. You’re not out of this yet.”

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Me:

Amanda says yeah sure. Your call as to when, where etc. Oh and I’ve been instructed to pay as I’m still in the doghouse.

And for me, please try to be normal because I don’t think I can cope with much more of this

Simon:

How about that Indian we like. It’s halfway and always serves good food. Tomorrow about 8?

And yeah, I’ll play it cool 😉

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We arrived at the Indian to find Simon and Kirsty sipping drinks at the bar and even before we sat down at the table to eat, we could tell that there was an undertone of weirdness going on. Simon gave Amanda a bunch of flowers and apologised which made Kirsty suspicious and from there it went downhill. By the time we got up and left, everyone in the restaurant knew that it wasn't a matter of if, but when because the very public spat they had indicated that their relationship was effectively over.

As we got back in the car Amanda turned to me. “That went better than I hoped and the flowers from Simon was a nice touch. But don’t think you’re getting out of this that fast. You might not have completely destroyed our friendship, but I’m still annoyed that you did what you did.” And with that, she opened up WhatsApp on her phone and started typing.

A couple of moments later I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket but I was driving and would look at it when we got home.

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Mark (Bull):

Well done u little sissy faggot. I guess I won’t be needing u as my own personal fuck toy afterall. Fuck up like this again and ull be in for a world of hurt.

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I might have mentioned it before but Amanda and I are honest with one another and we can both look at one another's phones without hiding. Her brow furrowed when she saw the messages Mark and I had exchanged as she takes a very dim view to threats of violence and people demeaning either of us. That’s her job and no one else's.

The big day has arrived and I’m excited. She’s going out for a fuck with Mark. She’s used about 6 razors (maybe an exaggeration) to trim everything back although she’s left a nice little patch of pubes above her pussy.

Or rather I thought she was going out for a fuck with Mark. In a move which I’d never expected, he’d been invited over and I would be allowed to sit quietly in a wardrobe so I could watch and listen. She’d positioned a mirror against the wall so I would be able to see as well as hear. “Whatever happens, whatever you think, don’t even twitch.” was all she said.

I felt honoured that she was going to allow me to watch get fucked but I had a nagging feeling that something else was happening. Something that I couldn’t quite fully see or grasp.