Wish I was Joseph

I need your help. Honest, I need something, fucking something to get my head straight. I need anything you can drag out of your life's experience to help me sort what to do, tomorrow, tomorrow morning. Don't fucking fold on me. Don't scroll on, please....
I wish I was Joseph. Not the being 22 thing or anything like that. Not the angst of starting out in the dating game and wondering how best to use my degree or that stuff. No, I mean in the easy guilt free, well endowed, lay a bitch attitude that he has towards women. I mean in the sense that he feels that he can fuck my wife, his aunt, and turn something that I suppose was once just physical into a full blown affair. He doesn't care that Rachel is 34 or that I've been trying to give her a kid these last four years. He doesn't care that I have a few misgivings about what mumps did to me when I was 14. His attitude is just, I'll give Rach the kids and you can raise them as your own Dave. You can pretend to be their father. I don't mind, just as long as you don't interfere with what Rachel and I have got going on. 

I didn't ask Jospeh to fuck my wife. It wasn't a pact to secure kids or anything like that. I love my wife and I thought that she loved me. So this is intensely personal. It hurts a great like hell. It hurts because I invited my easy go lucky nephew to live with us whilst he did his three years at Uni. It was my gift to him, to help squeeze down the debt that he would otherwise build up. Rachel always had a soft spot for him so when I asked to support the arrangement she insisted that I decorate out a bedroom for him next to ours. The bloody room was as nice as ours by the time I'd finished and with full length mirrors on the built in wardrobe doors. 

The first time I actually saw Rachel kiss Joseph, like he was the man, I was almost physically sick. We'd been to the fairground and because I didn't do the gut throwing around rides, Rachel rode everything with Joseph. I remember saying I'd try the shooting alley and I came back early from that. Beside the Wurlitzer, he had his hands on her tight little arse. He had his mouth open against hers and they were necking. I mean properly necking. I diverted past a candy floss stand and i stared from the cover of spun sugar. My wife wore the tightest denim jeans and boots. He had his filthy hands all over her arse. It gave me a hard on an i wanted to smack the bastard in the face. 

You think in crazy ways then. If you'd been in my situation you would know. I mean, it was like salty, hot that Rachel was pulling a young guy. It was like freaky sexy that he wanted inside her knickers. I'd started to see Rach as a lost mother cause. I'm ashamed to say that but I did. Yet I wanted her and i love her and the sight of him touching her that way, it aroused me. i remember my fists relaxing, my hands uncurling and deciding that if it was to be, then it would be. It was just better that the scrote got it out of his system, proved what a stud he was by laying my wife and then we would move on. Hell, I even imagined it being used for Rachel and I to feel horny together later on. But all of that was afterwards, not as intent. 

I lost my nerve a few weeks later. I'd gone out to help a mate recondition an engine and came back to pick up my socket set which I thought had been in my car. As far as I knew Rachel had been going out too. I went through the kitchen to the garage, and passed Joseph who was getting a couple of glasses of cold orange from the fridge. I kid you not, the guy was bollock naked and he had a slimy stalk on him that was bolt hard, rather longer than my longest socket wrench and as thick as a fucking hawser. The head on it was fucking huge, like he was deformed in some Marvel comic sort of way. He was relaxed though. 'Hi Dave!' I said about the socket set and he let me proceed. I left as he was returning upstairs to give his bitch some more of that good thing. Right then I'd assumed he had a girlfriend in, but there was no new car on the drive. Rachel's little sports roadster was there though. I stared at it like it was an alien craft. I walked around the corner to where my car was parked. I waited rather than drive off. No alarms, no furtive action. I went and stood beneath our bedroom and listened to him putting my wife through her paces. Hell, he made Rachel yelp. 

Rachel dressed sexed up after that. There were still the jeans but now she wore slouch belts with big brass buckles that sat on her crotch. It was like she was begging for it! Part of me wanted to kick the fucker out of our place, but I couldn't say to my brother Paul, look, he's fucking his aunt! In any case, the bastard was hung better than me. Yes, I said it, he had a bigger cock. I reasoned that Rachel might have liked that fucking grotesque weapon spraying around inside of her. I felt despondent and then I flt depressed. It as if if I didn't have the volition to make a fight of it. it was as if I was living a story that had its ending already written. So I started making it easier for them, going out and working on my mate's car several evenings a week. Rachel was getting cock big time. I looked at her, and shit, she looked content. She thrived on their dirty little secret. One weekend we were down town shopping and we stopped by a lingerie shop. There was a black basque in the window. It was so fucky hot, I tell you. She looked at it eagerly and then shyly she dismissed it as a purchase, saying that we 'shouldn't put pressure on ourselves all the time.'  I knew that she wanted to wear it for him! I should have been contemptuous. But I bought it her. I bought it insisting that it might be a treat in the future. When we were feeling 'horny or something'. She shot me a quizzical look as though she suspected that i knew. Somehow I blank faced that one and we bought it. 

I'm not a voyeur, its not especially my thing, but my engineering extends to electrical as well. So I bought a surveillance camera and worked it inside an old doll that Rachel had. It always sat on the window sill in the bedroom that Joseph used. 'Lucy' was going to help me cope. Hate me if you wish, but I needed to see, to understand. A few nights later I was going to get my hands covered in sump oil again and Rachel asked if I minded if she and Joseph took in a movie together. I said go for it. When Rachel came down she was dressed o the nines in a tight little black dress. I guessed that she wore the basque beneath. I guessed it. Any way, that night I didn't mess around with an engine. I did some monitoring. 

They must have got back around eleven. I was rarely home before midnight, So they went upstairs. Watching casanova Joseph undress my wife was fucking mad. It wasn't just that she wore that basque, it was the way that he fingered her. The fucker was brutal with her! He had her grinding and gyrating on his paw, working her like a slut. She got his cock out for him, bullet hard and disgusting, and she sucked the head of that fucking thing. She couldn't take it to the back of her throat but she tried! 

'Paul said it's cool, about me taking you down to our cottage for the week' Joseph said pulling Rachel's mouth back and forth on his prong. 

Paul. Our Paul. My brother....

I gulped down air. I felt a fucking pillock. 

'God, I need that...to spend a week with you' Rachel breathed. 

My nephew smirked. He was easing his cock around her mouth like it was a python looking for a home. 

'What you telling the old man?' the fucker asked. 

Rachel was kissing his cock. She ran her fingers down to her own sex. Se needed the beast some place. 

'I'm playing golf, with girlfriends'

Joseph chuckled. Somehow he resisted the jokes about getting balls in holes. 

'It's time he knew Rach...I'm having you, keeping you. You can tell him its a solution to the baby yearnings or something.' 

He pushed her back onto the bed, Rachel in just the basque and stockings. I watched him push his thick bare dick into her sex. I watched it slide inside like he was berthing there. He started to stroke that thing inside of her. Rachel's legs were so wide. He looked as if he could split her in two. 

'Paul said he'd have a quiet word darling. He said he'd read Dave's fortune for him.'  I watched the bastard start to kiss her throat. I watched the way that Rachel arched her head back so that he could kiss up and down her throat whilst he was stoking her. 

'Tell him he'll raise our kids. Tell him how neat he'd be at that' the bastard growled. 

He really started to bang her then. The bed head started to thwack against the wall. Bang, bang, bang. 

'If you tell him when you're pregnant, he can take it or leave it, ' Jospeh snarled. The arrogant little fucker! 'Paul said he'll help support us till I get that banking job.' 

'Oh God, god......please.........Joseph!' Rachel gasped. 

I watched her legs go crazy. It was like she was having a fit on him. She just spasmed, and spasmed, and spasmed...

'OK, good girl....there you go' he sneered, his buttocks knotting rhythmically. 

Minutes later, he pulled that thing out of her. It looked like what I'd seen in the kitchen encounter. The fucking thing was shuddering. Joseph took her by the hand, helping Rachel up to her feet. 

'I'm fucking you again, on your bed' he informed her calmly, leading her towards the door. 

'Dave will know, he'll know!' she panicked. 

'I don't care' Joseph said and led her through and out of camera shot anyway. 


My fingers trembled as I switched the monitor off. I felt eviscerated, gutted, my insides pulled out for inspection. Right then, as I sat in the car, watching the blank screen, the bastard was pile driving my wife again. I imagined the row to follow. I imagined the aggro when the arrogant little bastard told me the truth. I'm bedding your wife, there's nothing you can do about it. Worst still, I imagined a humiliating 'quiet word' from my brother. If he suggested that he drive over for a drink one weekend....I wasn't going. I chickened out. I left it half an hour and telephoned Rachel to lie that there was a problem with the car engine. We'd do an all night job on it. Rachel sounded fucked silly. Her voice was dreamy, kind of delirious. I guessed it was then back to bed with him, in our bedroom. The surveillance camera showed not a fucking thing. 

You gotta tell me what to do, what to say. You have! Tomorrow morning I have to walk back into that house as though I've tinkered with a cam shaft rather than my own aching cock. What the fuck would you do!?

Lutheran Maid