My wife, Laryssa, and I we’re on a break from our marriage. We were not divorced yet, but I moved out after many troubles. I still loved her very much, and wanted nothing more than to get back with her. But at her suggestion, for the sake of saving our marriage, I moved out and rented a room in a house down the street.

Laryssa really was the bread-maker in the marriage, I worked odd-jobs while she ran her own company. She drove the red convertible, paid for the mansion and was invited to all the hottest parties. She was the hottest girl in the neighbourhood, and the fact remained, she was too good for me – I knew that, and was often insecure about that.

Fast forward to my current situation, my landlord, Peter, rented out a room to me, the house being shared by two other college students, jocks, to boot. I kept to myself, mostly, but word quickly spread in the house who I was married to and suddenly I became the most popular member of the household – and not in a positive way. Both jocks in the house, Zack and Phil, picked on me when they saw me, asking if my wife was seeing other people yet, implying that they were gonna fuck my wife now that she was a “single girl out on the prowl”. This caught the attention of my landlord, who, instead of coming to my rescue, made the situation worse.

Peter came up to me one day and told me that he told Zack and Phil to back off me, which I thanked him for. He also told me that he met my wife a few times, living in the same neighborhood and all, and told me he would like to get to know her better. He asked me to invite her over for dinner, which I would prepare, which I was happy to do. It seemed harmless enough – my wife was 10 years younger than Peter, and I was 5 years younger than him, so there was nothing about this that raised red flags.

Or so I thought.

Laryssa accepted the invitation because she “wanted to get to know Peter better”. On the day of the dinner, Peter really worked me, as not only did I buy the desserts and food, but I prepared the meals too, and got the table ready for us. I slaved over the meal. Just before I got ready to shower, Peter asked me to tidy up the shared-bathroom quickly, which I wasn’t happy to do – it was the bathroom shared by the jocks, so it wreaked of sweat and piss, complete with stained toilet bowl seats. I did a half-assed job of tidying up the bathroom, but Peter scolded me, showing me stains all over the place. Suddenly intimidated, I found myself scrubbing the bathtub and floors. I saved the toilet for last, got on my hands and knees and started to scrub the rim, when suddenly my head was dunked in, the toilet flushing…I was pulled up to see Peter giving me a swirly, and my wife peeping her head in to see what the commotion was all about. I was so embarrassed as  my wife giggled with a hysterical Peter. They both left and I shut the door to clean myself up.

I walked back to my room to grab my stuff to shower before dinner, and found Peter and my wife sitting on my bed, their eyes gazed on each other as they mingled. Peter’s big hand was caressing her exposed thigh as she smiled at him, and both turned their heads to face me as I walked in the room. Peter told me they were starving, and that I should wash the piss out of my hair “because I stank”. They got up and left the room, and I walked back to the bathroom while they got dinner.

When I got back to the kitchen, I saw that Peter had left hardly anything for me, telling Zack and Phil that they should help themselves to what I had prepared. The jocks left Peter and Laryssa alone though, so as to not “cockblock the landlord”. I stood at the table feeling like an idiot, and Peter threw me some of his leftovers from his plate, most of hit half-eaten. I barely said a word as Peter and Laryssa sat talking to each other like I didn’t even exist. They really hit it off that night. I sensed the chemistry between them and felt so meaningless as I left the table, both of them oblivious to my absence.

Once she finished dinner, ny wife knocked on my door and asked how I was doing, and before I could answer her, Peter approached her from behind, his arms around her waist, which made her melt, and told me they were going out for a ride in her convertible, and that I could clean up, making sure the kitchen and dining room was spotless by the time he came back. I watched them leave, like two teenagers excited about the possibilities of the night, and did as I was told. Peter came back a few hours later, and I watched him get out of Laryssa’s car, waving to her as she drove away, an ear-to-ear smile not leaving either of their faces. Peter saw me as he entered the house, winked at me, gave me the thumbs up, zipped up his fly and walked upstairs.

I only talked to my wife one on one a few times over the phone since then over the next couple of weeks – and none of the phone calls were interpersonal, they were all to tie up loose ends. I wanted to tell her how bad I missed her, I wanted to ask her if she was seeing anybody…but I didn’t. Peter, on the other hand, was on cloud nine, and I realized when I did call her, she would often end the call because someone was on the other line – namely Peter. I figured out that they had become better friends after overhearing him on the phone with her. He confirmed it when he came up to me and told that my wife asked him to be his date at an upcoming staff party at her company.

I flat out asked him if anything was going on between he and my wife, because I had wanted to get back with her in the worst way. Peter smirked at me and told me that, now that she met him, she might not want what I want. Peter bullied me against the fridge, looked me in the eye and told me that Laryssa was really into him, and that on the night of the staff party, he was going to take their friendship “to the next level”, smiling at me as he revealed this. I meekly asked him not too, asking him to respect my marriage, telling him I would do anything if he would back off. Peter gloated, took a step away from me, and said he’d think about it, laughing at me as he walked away.

Peter came into my room later that day and told me, for the weekend, a few days before his date with my wife, that I had to do whatever he asked of me, and that if I obeyed him, he’d consider my request, although he said he’d be breaking Laryssa’s heart the way she was just sweet-talking him over the phone, which made me squirm. I agreed, and Peter sat on my office chair and ordered me to get on my knees, calling Zack and Peter in. The jocks looked on, of of them with a video camera, as Peter made me unlace his sneakers, peel off his sweat socks, and smell his stinky feet. The boys thought this was a riot, shouting as jocks do as Peter pushed me on my back with the base of his feet against my forehead. He walked out of the room and I was beyond humiliated…but not as much as when I walked by his office and heard him tell someone over the phone what he just did to me.

The next day was toilet day. Piss was all over the toilet seat, along with the pubic hair of the jocks, and I got on my knees and scrubbed. I went all out, cleaning the walls, the floors, the tub and the toilet itself. When I exited the bathroom, Laryssa was standing there, looking at me. I asked what she was doing here, and she told me Peter wanted her to see what I had become, and that she’d now seen me scrub toilets for a room full of men twice.  Peter walked in and cut right in front of us, walking into the bathroom and pissed in the toilet with the door open, which made Laryssa laugh a little…he then walked out, and without washing his hands, slapped my cheek and told me “I’d missed a spot”. I looked in and saw that Peter pissed the seat. Peter told me to get on my knees and scrub, his arms wrapping around Laryssa’s waist, her back to his stomach, his chin on her shoulder, his crotch grinding against her tight ass.

She closed her eyes and shook her head as I did as I was told.

I watched from my room as they cuddled up in the backyard, talking, and I wondered what they discussed.  I left the house for the remainder of the day to drink my troubles away at the local bar.  All I could think about was how I inadvertently set up my wife’s romantic life, which didn’t include me, and subsequently belittled myself in the process.

On the day of Laryssa’s staff party, I squirmed as friends from my wife’s work were texting me about how close Laryssa and Peter were getting in public. Word quickly spread about how I wasn’t Laryssa’s date, and how my landlord was. I was so angry that I obeyed Peter’s rules for nothing, because when I came home to my room that day from work, I saw my wife’s dress on the floor, followed by Peter’s shoes, followed by his pants, followed by her bra, a trail of breadcrumbs leading to my room…I opened the door and saw my wife on her back, a smile on her face, her beautiful, shaven pussy wet and moist with cum. Peter stood triumphant, his ear-to-ear smile piercing me as he pulled his underwear back on. I wondered what she saw in Peter’s flabby body as he put his glasses back on and smacked me on the cheek a few times as he went to the bathroom.

Laryssa was completely oblivious to my presence, I just stood there, watching my wife’s afterglow. Peter walked back into the room,telling me to get out, because “I had a mess to clean up on the toilet seat”, no doubt the one he just made.

I moved out a few days after that. It was hard to live under the same roof as the guy who was fucking your wife. I had to stay up all night listening to them fuck like rabbits during the duration of my remaining stay though.  The bed shaking the ground, my wife’s moans yelling out profanity, shouting things like “so biiiig!” and “I’m cummming…again!”. The last instruction Peter told me was to fix the dents in the wall in his bedroom because the headboard kept slamming into it…all night long.

Unfortunately, I had tremendous difficulty finding a new place.  I had become the laughing stock of the neighborhood, no one wanted the cuckold husband living under their roof.  References were big issue for those who didn’t know me – my wife was really the longest roommate I had, and she took pity on me by giving me one.  The only other references I could have given were the jock roommates, and of course, Peter, my ex-landlord and my wife’s new boyfriend.