The Foreign Exchange Student
A mature young man comes to stay with us. Wife / Cuckold In Britain, Schools often arrange for children to spend some time in another country as a guest of a family for two weeks, and in return you host their child in your country. The idea is that you send your child off to stay with a family so they can experience the culture naturally. That family sends you their child, and you look after them in return. Each child lives as your own and attends your child’s school for a couple of weeks. My wife and I had one child, Billy. His School had organised for the Year 11 class to swap with a Spanish school this year, and he was very excited to be going. We were pleased to pay for his plane ticket and duly took him to the airport where he joined the rest of his class and flew off. We waited around for half an hour until the flight from Spain arrived, and those kids were distributed to us parents by pre-arranged rota. We were last to be allocated our child and there seemed to have been made some mistake - there were only the three Spanish teachers left. Our teacher, who was arranging the rota, checked again and hesitantly called out a name, “Antonio”. We knew this to be our allocated child’s name but imagine our surprise when one of the teachers stepped forwards! It took some chatting back and forth between our teacher and him to confirm he was indeed our student but wasn’t the child we’d expected - at 6’2” tall, a wispy moustache and with wide shoulders, he certainly looked every inch a grown man. I asked questions of the teacher and it was established that our child was actually 18 years old and was in his last year of education. Apparently he’d missed two other opportunities to go on Exchange and he’d been allowed to join this one, despite being so much older than Billy. I shook Antonio’s hand and introduced us. I’m Stan and my wife is Jane. I did blink a bit when Antonio took Jane’s hand and raised it to his lips. He kept his eyes locked to hers and kissed it warmly. Still holding her small hand in his, he muttered ‘maravillosa’. I later learned this meant ‘Gorgeous’ and Jane did indeed look the part. She had dressed simply,
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in a light summer frock, but her petite frame and large breasts captured most men’s attention. Combined with a lovely “Pixie” face and short hair, even at 35 she didn’t need makeup to draw men - and she had certainly drawn this one, even if he was still a student. Jane, for her part, was blushing and transfixed. The atmosphere was electric and Antonio was smouldering at her through his long black eyelashes. I stepped forwards and reached out to shake Antonio’s hand and he very slowly lowered Jane’s then turned to me and, glancing me up and down, briefly shook mine, before returning his gaze to my wife. I’m a little sensitive about my height, being only 5’5”, so I could tell he was dismissing me. “Oh dear,” I thought to myself, “This is going to be a long two weeks…” Little did I know. We returned to the car, and due to his size, and Jane’s little car, I had to sit in the back when it became obvious Antonio wouldn’t fit back there. So, I rode in the back whilst my wife drove and Antonio sat next to her. He gazed at her the whole while and it was obvious from her unusually jerky driving that she was feeling the effects. I saw him blatantly staring at her legs, which were visible to mid-thigh. We arrived home and we showed Antonio to Billy’s room, but he pointed at the Billy’s bed and simply said “is too small”. I had to admit, looking at Billy’s child’s bunk-bed (He asked for a bunk so that he could occasionally have friends for sleepovers), and then at this huge Spaniard, that he had a point. I stood, puzzled, not knowing what to do, but Jane stepped forwards and said “It’s okay, you can sleep in our bed and we’ll sleep in here.” I looked daggers at her, but inwardly I knew there was no other answer. Even our sofa was a little two-person job, and with both of us being small framed we could just about fit in the bunk beds. I softened and grinned at them both, “Okay, but bagsy top bunk!” Antonio’s English wasn’t too good so I don’t think he understood fully, but when Jane showed him our room and our large double bed, he got it and smiled gratefully at her. Jane busied herself moving some of our clothes across to Billy’s room
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whilst I prepared dinner. Antonio explored our Satellite TV and found some Spanish-speaking music channel that seemed to occupy him, and produced a laptop from his luggage to check in with his social media. He clearly had no problems making himself at home. He ate dinner together and then Antonio said “Sleep, okay?” and went to our room. Finally alone, Jane and I raised eyebrows at each other and I asked her, “So, what do you think of the ‘child’?” “He’s massive!” said Jane. “Whatever they feed them down in Spain, they seem to do well on it. I certainly wasn’t expecting a grown man!” “He’s got his eye on you, darling,” I said. And Jane blushed again, and went shy. She was quite a shy person and often felt self-conscious when someone gave her a compliment. She brushed it off with “Pfft, he’s just a boy” I poured us each a glass of wine and we curled up in front of the telly for a couple of hours before we went up to Billy’s room - now ours. The whole room felt quite small. I sat on the bunk whilst Jane undressed, admiring her near perfect body and reached for her, but she gently tapped my hand away and slipped on her nightie. She left the room to go to the bathroom and I undressed to my briefs - normal nightwear for me. The hall from Billy’s room goes around the corner and along passed our room to the bathroom, and I heard her footsteps pause outside our room for a minute before I heard the bathroom door shut. I thought nothing of it, and shortly she returned and slipped into the lower bunk. I kissed her goodnight and went along myself, to empty my bladder and brush my teeth. As I turned the corner, I could see that our bedroom door was opened. This surprised me - I’d assumed Antonio would have closed it. As I drew level with it, I stopped - just as my wife had. Lit softly by the moonlight through the window, I could see Antonio laying on his side facing away from the door - completely naked. The rear view was impressive - wide shoulders, well-toned muscles, strong calves, and firm, strong buttocks. I shook my head and carried on to the bathroom, then walked back with another glance at this fit young man lying in my bed. When I returned
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to Billy’s room, Jane was lying on the bottom bunk and seemed to be asleep, so I bent over and softly kissed her forehead before climbing the tiny ladder to the top bunk and tried to make myself comfortable, but it just wasn’t, not even for a small man like me. But soon enough, I fell asleep. I was woken by the bed shaking - and I heard Jane breathing heavily below. I leaned over the rail and looked down at her, and she looked up at me - her face red, even in the moonlight, and her chest heaving. “What’s wrong?” I asked her, alarmed. “Oh! Nothing! Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” she panted, looking equal parts terrified and guilty. It took me some moments to calm her and ask what had happened. It turned out that she had risen in the night to go to the loo, and being half-asleep, returned to the main bedroom through habit, rather than Billy’s. She got into bed and spooned up against what she thought was her husband, but in fact was Antonio, and fallen asleep snuggled up next to him. I asked what had happened then, and she said she’d woken with his hand caressing her leg and thigh. He must have woken and turned around, and was facing her. She explained, still red-faced and embarrassed, that she opened her eyes and stared straight into his. He was smiling gently and seemed utterly confident that she meant to be there with him, and when she looked down, his erection was large and obvious. That’s when she bolted back down the hall and into the lower bunk. I felt genuinely sorry for my wife’s embarrassment, and a little amused that she had given such hope to this young Spaniard. I calmed her down and said it was just a mistake, and said that he’d probably think he dreamed it. Eventually I drifted off the sleep again. Next morning, I jokingly asked Jane if she’d wandered again through the night, which earned me a sharp look. She shot a look at the door and waved me closer so she could speak quietly. “Shh, this isn’t a joke, I was mortified!” “Oh, don’t be daft,” I tried to make light of it. “I doubt he’ll remember it this morning.” Jane bit her lip as if she wasn’t sure she should tell me something, and I made a questioning face to encourage her. “After you fell
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asleep…” she began, hesitantly, “I was lying in this tiny bed and I heard the door open. I opened my eyes and Antonio was in our room, right in front of my bunk, and he was still naked!” “What?!” I almost shouted, shocked. “Shh!” continued Jane, “Keep it down!” “Like hell I will! What the fuck was he doing in here? What did he want?” I said, only slightly quieter. “Well - he, wanted me.” Jane said softly, and looked like she wished she hadn’t said anything. “What? What do you mean?” “He… Simply stood there and reached out his hand to me, clearly wanting me to follow him - I assume back to the main bedroom. I shook my head and mouthed the word ‘No!’, but he just stood and waited, his hand outstretched. When it became obvious, I wasn’t going to follow him, he knelt down on the floor and stroked my hair. I pushed him away and he looked kind of sad, then he kissed me on the lips and walked away.” “The bloody cheek! I’m going in there now and knock his bloody block off!” and stood up, ready to storm out - but Jane grabbed my arm hard. “No! Don’t you dare!” she said and a stern tone in her voice made me stop in my tracks. “Why not?” I paused - genuinely puzzled. Surely this was what a man should do when another man kissed his wife? “Well, three reasons,” Jane said. “One, he’s much younger than you. Would you want to be taken to court for assaulting a guest? Secondly, I don’t want the world knowing our private business. Thirdly…” Jane paused here and pointedly looked at me from my feet to the top of my 5’5” frame before continuing, “I don’t fancy your chances, much. He’s very big and muscly.” I must admit this took the wind out of my sails, and I sat back on the bunk feeling discombobulated and more than a little humiliated. “So, what do you want me to do?” I asked, confused. Jane leant forwards and kissed my forehead. “Nothing, love. Just nothing - I’ll take care of it.” Then she stood up, dressed in another flowery Summer dress, and went down for breakfast. I followed shortly and when I got downstairs, Antonio was chomping away at a bowl of cereal and engrossed in his phone - just like any other teenager, apart from the obvious size. There was nothing for
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me to do but sort my own breakfast. As I’ve mentioned, exchange students go to the host school, so I gave our overly-friendly Spaniard a ride to school on my way to work. We’d arranged Jane to collect him after school, and when I got home an hour or so later, they were in the living room watching TV. Determined to be a polite and graceful host, I greeted both and asked Antonio how school had been. His English wasn’t very good, although better than my Spanish which was non-existent. Jane had studied Spanish at school so she was able to help us both out and we had some sort of conversation. Antonio had said school was “Ok”. He didn’t much like lunch. He found the British boys to be unfriendly and the girls “very silly”. I could believe this, imagining the impact that this large, handsome Spaniard would have on a typical Year 11 class. The girls would have fallen over themselves to catch his attention and all the boys would have been hugely jealous. He enjoyed playing Basketball in the afternoon and his team had won easily. Again, I had no doubt of this. After dinner, Antonio again retired to his bedroom and I assume was browsing the internet, talking to others and generally being like every other teenager. I talked to Jane about last night and she played it down, saying it was nothing and that she’d handle it. I told her to tell me if I should do something, but she very firmly said I was not to and that he was “Just a boy” and if a “Grown woman can’t put a boy in his place, well she had no right to be anyone.” I was a little apprehensive, but she reassured me with these words and we settled in for another typical married-couple’s evening in front of the TV. As before, we went up to bed and as before, the main bedroom’s door was open and Antonio was lying naked on top of the sheets, but this time facing the door. His eyes were closed, long lashes against his cheeks, and I was surprised how well defined his muscles were. Indeed, I would not be sure of beating him in any physical endeavour. Also, his penis was quite large. Even flaccid, hanging down from a thick thatch of pubic hair, the end reached the sheets as he lay
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sideways. As all men would, I mentally compared myself to him and I was much shorter down there. Even though I was a “grower, not a shower”, I still didn’t grow that much - probably less long hard as this foreign lad was soft. Aware that I was staring, I walked on to the bathroom, did my business and returned to Billy’s room. With some creaking from the bed, we settled ourselves - me on the top bunk, Jane on the lower, and gently drifted off to sleep. It was the quiet sounds that woke me. I lay still and I could hear a gentle rustling. I slowly raised one eyelid and the soft moonlight revealed Jane standing in front of the bunks in her nightie. In front of her was Antonio, quite obviously naked. I lay completely still, wondering if it was I that was dreaming this time, but this did seem very real. Mindful that Jane had told me she would handle this, and not wanting to make her angry, I decided to stay put and see how she would deal with him. Slowly, Antonio’s hand came up and gently caressed her arm, continuing upwards until it reached her neck. Pausing there, the hand slowly stroked her under her chin and, with one finger, lifted it as he leant down to kiss her on the lips. I could see Jane’s body tense but she made no move to push him away. Surprised, I almost rose and but I realised something most peculiar. I had an erection. For some reason, my penis had betrayed my pride and logic and was aroused by the sight of my tiny wife being kissed by this large, naked and - yes, I could see now, engorged Spaniard. Whilst I was inwardly examining this unexpected behaviour from my previously trustworthy body, Antonio’s other hand had travelled up Jane’s leg and was underneath her nightie, cupping her bottom. I could clearly see the shape of his large hand through the thin material. Breaking the kiss, he pulled back slightly and using both hands, slid the shoulder straps of her nightie sideways, allowing it to drop to the floor. My petite wife of 16 years was now standing completely nude in front of a very young man in our own son’s bedroom, whilst her husband watched unknown from the bunk bed. I could see Antonio smile, both with his
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mouth and his eyes, as he viewed Jane’s body. I could see his eyes roving over her. Knowing her body very well, I knew he was tracing her shapely legs, to her shaven mound, flat tummy, large and full breasts, slender neck and beautiful pixie face. Again, he leant forwards and kissed her, a little harder this time. When they separated, I could hear Jane’s breathing shallow and fast, but she still stood motionless, as if frozen by a spell. Antonio reached forwards with one hand and gently caught hers. He turned and led her out through the door and down the hall, she seemingly unable to do anything but follow him. I watched her bare bottom turn the corner around the door towards our bedroom. I lay, seemingly frozen myself, with my mind running wild around the confines of my skull. I don’t know how long I stayed there trying to comprehend, probably only a minute or two, but my internal revolutions were broken by the sound of the bed springs creaking. I knew that sound well, having often been the cause of it as I enjoyed sex with my beautiful, gorgeous, “maravillosa” Jane. The creaks and heaves of the bed were very familiar. As was the heavy breathing and moaning of Jane as she was made love to. I heard that sound now, only it was different. It was louder, stronger and more truthful. I heard her come. Not loudly, as if she was muffling the sound with her fist, but it was unmistakeable. Antonio was fucking my wife. And well, but the sound of it. I heard him now, grunting as his own release got closer. They came together, one last loud creak from the bed, a deep grunt from him and a louder “Oh! Oh!” from her, not stifled at all this time. Then silence. I lay in the same position, dizzy with the experience, and realised I had climaxed myself. My briefs were wet with my useless semen and my testicles ached. Jane appeared in the doorway; her body lit from soft moonlight. She paused and looked at me across the room. I still don’t know why, to this day, but I kept my eyes almost shut and lay still, forcing myself to breath slow and regular. She stayed there for perhaps a minute, and I saw something drop from her crotch to the carpet, wet and heavy. I
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knew it to be sperm, it could be nothing else. That shocked me yet more as she always made me wear a condom since Billy was born. She softly walked forwards, picked up her nightie and slid it back over herself, then slipped into the lower bunk. I could smell her then, her arousal and juices and a thicker, musky male scent. It was the smell of sex, wafting up from my wife in the bunk below. She fell asleep very quickly - no doubt tired. I could not sleep and lay there with my disturbed thoughts until dawn poked its fingers through the window and it was time to get up. I got up and looked at my wife. She lay curled up, beautiful and carefree. A soft smile on her sleeping face. I decided to leave her there - you can’t wake up someone who looks as peaceful as that. I dressed quietly, closed the bedroom door and went down for breakfast. Antonio was already downstairs, again demolishing a bowl of cereal and again, glued to his phone. I knew it would be impossible to talk to Antonio about last night - for a hundred reasons. My own shame at not acting, the impossibility of what occurred, the language barrier, the admission that he had cuckolded me, my humiliation and, frankly, some fear about what he’d do if I tried confronting him. Jane had been right; I’d stand no chance against him. I decided on pretending nothing had happened. I greeted him cheerfully and again, gave him a lift to School and continued to work. That evening, I again came home to find them together on the living room sofa. Jane was wearing a quite revealing short dress, coming up above mid-thigh, and it was clear she had no bra on underneath it. I immediately looked at them both, and was rewarded by a faint trace of guilt in Jane’s eyes as she met my gaze and then looked away. Antonio had no such guilt and smiled happily up at me. As the sofa only had room for two, I was forced to sit in the armchair in the corner normally reserved for Billy. Jane asked about my day and I asked after hers. I’m fortunate that my job earns enough that Jane doesn’t need to work as well, so she spends her days doing housework, shopping and meeting up with her friends for
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lunches. Indeed, there was fresh food in the fridge most days and her car gave her freedom to do much as she wanted. She eventually got up to make dinner and as she leant forwards, I caught a glimpse of a nipple. I found that hugely exciting even though she was my own wife and I’d seen them both hundreds of times. Somehow the sneak glance, combined with a guest in the house made it seem forbidden and much the greater for it. Despite her unfaithfulness, I wanted nothing more than to take her in my arms and ravish her thoroughly, but something in my seemed determined to play the good host.
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