Grand Prize

After the events described in the story "Another Meeting," Zaur and I met several times; the meetings were in an MFM format. Sometimes he would only spend the evening with us, sometimes he would stay overnight and leave in the afternoon. We didn't see any of his friends again. I had returned to a normal state, and I no longer paid attention to the fact that he had my wife; it had become the norm...

The New Year holidays passed, then the New Year break. I had already returned to work after them. In the mornings before work, I would drop off my son at kindergarten. That's how it was that morning too, but... In the morning, after putting my son in the car, I slipped and fell hard onto the ground.

My leg swelled up,

I couldn't even walk, let alone drive.

Oksana took our son to kindergarten, and we prepared to go to the emergency room. But on the way, she stopped and started calling on her cell phone.

 — Zaur, hi. Listen, something's wrong with Andrey's leg, could you take a look?

And then I remembered he had mentioned he worked as a surgeon at one of the hospitals.

 — Yes, yes. He fell. Okay. We'll be there soon.

We went to the hospital. They let us drive inside. When we stopped near the emergency room, Oksana called again.

 — We've arrived. Yes, yes. Okay. Will they give it to me? What should I say? Okay, — and after finishing the phone call, she said to me, — wait here for a bit, I'll be right back.

A few minutes later, she appeared with a wheelchair. I sat down, and she wheeled me. As we moved, I got the impression she had been here before. I had suspected before that they were meeting without my presence. But I had no proof, only feelings. And the further she wheeled me through the hospital corridors, the more certain I became. She navigated perfectly and knew exactly where to go.

Finally, we stopped at a door; I read the plaque—he wasn't just a surgeon, he was the head of the department. Oksana opened the door and wheeled me into the office. Besides Zaur, there were several people there, but upon our arrival, they left.

Zaur came out from behind the desk, kissed Oksana on the cheek, greeted me, and said:

 — Well, let's have a look.

After examining my leg, he called someone. A couple of minutes later, a nurse arrived. He told her what needed to be done, and she wheeled me away. They took an X-ray and took me somewhere... Zaur came in, looked at the X-ray.

 — Well, my friend, you're lucky. It's not too bad, but you'll need a cast for a couple of weeks. They'll put a cast on you now, then come to me, — and he left.

They put a cast on me. I sat for a while, waiting for it to set. The nurse brought crutches.

 — Only walk with these and try to put as little weight on your leg as possible.

She wheeled me to Zaur's office. The door was closed.

 — Sit here. I'll take the wheelchair from you.

I moved from the wheelchair to a chair.

I sat and waited—where had they gone? But it turned out to be very simple. After about 5 minutes, the lock clicked, and the door was unlocked from the inside. I thought someone would come out, but the door didn't open. I waited a couple of minutes, struggled to stand up, and entered the office. At the desk sat a flushed Oksana; Zaur was standing in the corner, pouring coffee into cups. Turning to me, he said:

 — All done. Good. Will you have coffee?

I nodded; he got another cup.

What they had been doing here was obvious.

I wonder how he did it—doggy style or on the desk, — flashed through my mind.

We drank coffee; he told me what I needed to do now. And Oksana and I went home. On the way, I started asking how often they met without me.

She helped me get to the apartment and left for work.

I was left home alone, but my thoughts were occupied with one thing—besides our weekend meetings, they met during the day and possibly every day!

With these thoughts, I dozed off. I woke up because someone was ringing the doorbell. It was too early for Oksana, so I decided not to answer, but they kept ringing. I barely made it to the door and opened it. On the doorstep stood Masha (I wrote about her in the story "Friday the Slut").

After what happened back then, we sometimes met. I would visit her when her husband was away. Less often at our place, when she and Oksana got really drunk. Although I think besides me, she had someone else (sometimes Oksana covered for her with her husband, saying she was at our place).

 — Hi, come in, — I hobbled into the room.

 — How's your leg? Oksana called me. Is it serious?

Oksana had sent her to me so I could blow off steam before she got home.

 — I don't know. They said two weeks in a cast.

 — Do you need anything? I can do something or go to the store?

 — Thanks. We have everything. Want a drink?

 — A little, if there's wine.

 — Look in the kitchen. And bring me some cognac while you're at it.

Despite Masha's arrival, my thoughts were occupied with Oksana.

Masha sat next to me on the sofa, took a drink, and smiling, asked:

 — How can I help you, — and put her hand on my cock.

It was already slightly aroused from thoughts of Oksana and Zaur, and now this...

As soon as she pulled down the waistband of my pants, my cock sprang out, and she immediately took it into her mouth. I leaned back on the pillow and closed my eyes. After sucking for a bit, she stood up:

 — I want something else.

She took a condom out of her bag and tossed it to me. While I put it on, she took off her tights, pulled her skirt up to her waist, and climbed onto me. She moved the strip of her panties aside and guided my cock inside her...

While fucking her, I couldn't stop thinking about my wife.

My wife's plan worked; when she came home from work, I had already calmed down. But still, I wanted to talk to her. She kept putting off the conversation, citing all sorts of tasks. But in the evening, when our son went to bed, it finally happened.

But not as I wanted. To my question—why does she meet with him behind my back—I got an answer.

 — I didn't want this conversation, — Oksana began, — but since you started it... Yes, we sometimes meet. And what's wrong with that? It's your fault. It was with your consent that he fucked me at the base. You weren't against the first meeting at the restaurant and understood how it would end. So don't try to blame it all on me. I like doing it with him, when he... well, I... it just blows my mind. We don't have that with you. I'm ready for him anytime and ready... to fulfill any whim of his. Don't be offended... we had a good thing, but with him, it's completely different.

And she went to sleep. And I was left alone with my thoughts.

On Friday, as usual, Zaur appeared in the evening. In his hands was some kind of vessel with a wicker covering on top.

 — Here, accept this souvenir.

 — What is it?

 — Cognac. Real homemade cognac, you can't buy this in a store. Oksana, organize something quickly.

Oksana got the glasses, and soon snacks appeared on the table.

 — To your health! — raising his glass, Zaur said.

The cognac was excellent. After the third glass, I felt a slight buzz in my head. Ksyusha's cheeks turned pink.

After sitting for a while longer, Zaur looked at his watch and, addressing Oksana, said:

 — I'm actually here for you. I have some business today; you'll accompany me. Wear something not too flashy.

Oksana happily fluttered off to the bedroom.

I was stunned; he didn't even ask me. He behaved like the master.

 — What about me? — I stammered after a moment of silence.

 — You? — he smiled, — You'll stay home. You're on bed rest; you need peace.

I wanted to answer him, but I couldn't find the words. The silence dragged on. Not hearing my objections, he added:

 — I want to make an impression, and with Oksana, it'll work!

While Oksana

was getting dressed, we silently drank a few more glasses.

And then she appeared. She was wearing a strict gray suit, a skirt just above the knee, tapered at the bottom, and a white blouse.

Zaur looked at her appraisingly; something didn't please him.

 — Take off the jacket... that's better... I don't like the skirt; you need something else. Show me what you have.

And they went to the bedroom together.

Soon, I heard his voice from the bedroom:

 — No, that's not it, that either. Change this, this one, excellent. This isn't needed. Try this on...

I was curious about what was happening there. As I got up, took my crutches, and took a couple of steps.

 — Put this on and show me, — and he appeared in the room, — where are you going? You need to put as little weight on your leg as possible.

He sat at the table; I returned to my place.

He called a taxi.

Soon, Oksana appeared again. The blouse was the same, but the skirt was different—a black flared one, slightly shorter than the previous one. Black stockings and black high heels. Under the blouse, she wasn't wearing a bra, though it wasn't very noticeable.

 — That's what we need. You look great. Right? — and he turned to me.

I silently nodded.

 — Okay, now makeup, — he addressed Oksana again, — something not too flashy, lipstick not too bright. Something like a businesswoman style. The car will be here in 20 minutes.

My wife went to the bedroom. He poured into the glasses:

 — You have a beautiful wife! Let's drink to her, — after drinking, he continued, — don't worry, everything will be fine.

About 10 minutes later, Oksana appeared. She was excited from the preparations, or maybe from going somewhere with her lover without her husband.

Soon, they left.

All evening, I couldn't settle down, flinching at every car that stopped in the yard. My nerves were on edge. I lay half-reclined on the sofa and drank. In short, I got drunk and fell asleep on the sofa.

When I came to, the apartment was dark. It was hard to tell what time it was. I hobbled to the bedroom; Oksana was home—she was lying naked on her side on top of the blanket.

I sat on the edge of the bed and carefully placed my hand on her back. I moved my hand down to her buttocks and felt dried semen on them—Zaur always wiped his cock on her ass after taking her from behind.

I slid my hand to her crotch—it was wet. Gently pressing, I rolled her onto her back. The hair on her pubic area was covered with a layer of dried semen; I slid my fingers into her pussy. It was wet, to put it mildly...

I was terribly aroused...

Overcoming the discomfort from my injured leg, I turned her onto her stomach, first placing a pillow under her. I positioned myself behind her; in my condition, it wasn't easy. I entered my wife's pussy; my cock slid in completely without any resistance. When I started to pull it out, squelching sounds were heard. It was a swamp of semen and her fluids. After a few strokes, I pulled out and aimed my cock at her ass. It was wet there too, but not as much.

Oksana started moaning something, then began moving to meet my cock. I started fucking her, increasing the pace. Soon, I was pounding her at a frantic pace; her cries turned into a continuous moan...

I came inside her, then pulled out and continued pouring semen onto her back. I hadn't had that much semen in a long time...

Later in the evening, she told me about where she and Zaur had been...

When we arrived, I immediately recognized the place. I had been here before; it was Murat's house. He greeted us, helped me take off my coat. Then he started complimenting me; I don't know why, but it felt very pleasant.

Zaur looked at his watch:

 — What time did we agree?

 — They'll be here soon.

From their conversation, I only understood that they were waiting for someone. They took me to the room I had been in last time. The only change in the room was a large table in the middle. Everything else was the same as last time. I sat in the same armchair, right across from where his hookah was on the table.

 — If you want, you can smoke for now. I'll tell you what to do later, — and he left me alone in the room.

I took a few puffs. It was very pleasant; the fog returned to my head. It felt so good.

Zaur appeared and said:

After examining me carefully