10 comments/ 235659 views/ 50 favorites A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 01 By: Paul Pines On Monday, May 3, Sally and I met her "boyfriend," Ted, for our second day together. Since then, I have been trying to write an account of what happened, but every time I do, it just comes out sounding like all the other descriptions of who put what where. Granted, those are fun to read; I've read a few (hundred) of them myself! Perhaps Sally or Ted could write what they felt, having sex and cuddling in bed all day long, but I thought that it might be worthwhile to hear from the other party - the one who sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, the one who waited on them, the one who cleaned up after them. In other words, the cuckold husband - me. My ultimate fantasy has always been to see my wife in another man's arms, in another man's bed, and enjoying it. This thought has fueled my fantasies for nearly two decades, and this spring Sally said yes. I won't go into the details, but suffice to say that we met a gentleman - Ted - through the Hot Wives Forum. This was wonderful because he understood from the start where I was coming from, and he has been amazingly receptive to his "role" in our little game... which has turned into something much better than a game! He began an e-mail correspondence with Sally, and he was equally understanding with her. He recognized her nervousness, her fears and even her difficulty in overcoming her own image of herself as too good a girl to do something like this. When he asked for pictures of her, I got my first surprise: she agreed to send him one with both her face and her fully exposed breasts in plain view. You may be sure that I spent countless hours jerking off as I looked at my copy of that picture, and wondered what had gotten into her that brought her to expose herself to this stranger. Little did I know how much would get into her. We met for lunch, they hit it off, and three weeks later they were in bed together. The first time was wonderful all around, but the second time - this Monday - was the complete fulfillment of that ultimate fantasy of mine. Here, then, are the experiences of a cuckold. If you do not like them, I respect that. But I wonder what you're doing reading this if you think that way? ****************** First, a little background. Prior to our first meeting, I had learned from Ted that he is just under 7" long, which is one inch longer than I. What he neglected to mention was that the head of his penis flares out like a mushroom, where mine is basically the same size as the shaft. Sally thought that I was childish to be interested in the size, and she wrote it off as a "guy thing." That is, she wrote it off until the first moment he put it inside her on their first date. When he did, she told me later, she felt the head "pop" into her - a feeling which she described as "wonderful." Then, when he pushed all the way inside her, she learned that size is, indeed, a "guy thing," and that this guy's thing was *much* bigger than her husband's! In addition, I must admit that Ted is a masterful lover; I thought so, but Sally confirmed it - over and over - in the days following their first meeting. Only with my encouragement and reassurance was she willing to admit, several days later, that he made her feel better on their first encounter than I had ever made her feel in the 18 years we have been making love. Sunday night, Sally got ready. She showered and made herself "look pretty" for her date. As she did, she had me feel her, to make sure she was smooth enough for Ted. Watching her shave her "bikini line," the message was unmistakable: her lover was going to see her, touch her, kiss her and fuck her there, and she wanted her body to be ready for him. We arrived at the hotel and checked in. Sally got ready, I got her a glass of wine, then I unpacked and prepared the room: candles, the bed turned down and fresh strawberries in the refrigerator. I also set a chair at the foot of the bed, with a jar of Vaseline. That would be my place for the day. Ted arrived, and I watched my wife kiss another man. Not an "air kiss," not a kiss on the cheek; she offered him her mouth, her tongue, and her body. He undressed her, kissing each part of her body as he exposed it. I saw him grow in his trousers, until he bulged out obscenely in anticipation of her body. He looked at her skin: her shoulders, her breasts, her nipples, her belly, her mound. I felt a twinge of jealousy as he saw, then touched, my wife's body. She undressed him, pulling greedily at his underwear to expose his penis, and taking it into her mouth like a starving woman. He shuddered as she engulfed his penis with her mouth, and she - my wife - shuddered with delight at the pleasure she was giving him. They guided each other into the bed which I had neatly opened for them, and wrap their arms and legs around each other. Ted knelt between Sally's legs, and gently massaged her breasts, her stomach, her legs. He took his time, savoring each moment, each touch. She gasped as he touched and licked her nipples, and when he removed his mouth, they pointed up at him with excitement. Before we arrived at the hotel, I had asked her about the possibility of him entering her without a condom, and she had rejected that idea completely. Yet as I watched, I saw her hips moving toward him, reaching out toward his penis which stood out between her legs as he massaged her belly. I thought, "If she doesn't stop that, she'll end up with him inside her." Just as I had that thought, I heard her moan and saw his hips move forward. Her legs shot up in the air, he laid down on her, and suddenly my wife's vagina was filled with the hard flesh of another man, uncovered and unprotected. Watching from the foot of the bed, I saw his naked penis slide in and out of her, and her natural lubrication glistened on him and flowed down from her pussy in streams. He fucked her gently, purposefully. She made noises which I had not heard in 18 years of making love to her, and saw in her face a look of surprise, excitement and wonder at the sensations which he was giving her. I heard my wife say, "My God, you are touching my womb." She never said that to me, and I knew that she never would; I am not big enough. He fucked her slowly, then quickly. She kept saying, "You're so big, you feel so good," as well as other things which I could not hear, because she whispered them in his ear. At one point, I stood beside the bed and looked in her face. She was so beautiful, so alluring, so open - and it was for another man. She looked up at me - her arms and legs wrapped around his body, his penis deep inside her - and she said, "He really is better than you. God, he is *so* much better than you!" As she returned her attention to her lover, there was not a doubt in my mind that she meant it. She came in his arms. I saw all the familiar signs of her approaching orgasm, but I could only see them; he felt them. He sucked on her nipple, and just as she came, he moved his mouth to hers and kissed her through her orgasm. His body tightened, his pace increased, and her moans turned into encouragement: "Cum in me. I want to feel you cum inside me." I sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, as another man inseminated my wife. He came loudly, and hard; I could see his body contracting over and over as he pumped his semen into her. My wife had said this would absolutely, positively not happen; evidently she changed her mind, or he changed it for her. It was nothing he forced on her; she practically begged for it. She wanted it so much; she wanted *him* so much; she wanted to pleasure him, so very much. When they finished, and finally separated, Sally spread her legs and called me over. At their command, I approached her pussy; it was like all the "creampie" pictures I had ever seen, with milky liquid clinging to every fold, and flowing slowly out of her vagina. But this was no picture, and no anonymous woman: it was real, it was my wife's vagina, and it was Ted's semen. The smell was dank, bitter; I hesitated, and the two of them laughed, hugging and kissing each other while they made fun of my "problem." "Go ahead, clean me up," she insisted. So as my wife kissed her lover, I licked his sperm from her lips. I tried not to gag as the semen flowed into my mouth, and I realized that what I saw and tasted was just the overflow; he had cum deeply inside her (deeper than I ever had), and what I licked up was only what would not fit in her vagina, her womb. I licked her clean, and they sent me back to my chair. They fell asleep in each other's arms. I watched them sleep, and saw that my wife was not "tolerating" this for my sake, but was very happy, very comfortable in bed with this man. I pictured his sperm swimming inside her, going - as he had - where only I had been for many, many years. She looked very content with this. Later, when they woke, they sent me to get ice cream. It took a while to find the place, and to fill their order. On my return, I entered the room to find her on top of him, her legs spread wide, his penis sliding in and out of her body. I felt humiliated as I pictured myself standing on line at Friendly's while she fucked him; I had been sent away, like the little brother given money for the movies. She made love to him with her body. She moved forward and backward, and I watched her pussy lips stretch to kiss him with each stroke. I saw her flex her stomach muscles, and I heard him cry out with pleasure each time she did. When they were finally done, Ted got up to shower before he left. Sally ordered me onto the bed, and told me to fuck her. I did so with pleasure, only to suffer the ultimate humiliation: when I went inside her, I could barely feel her around me - and she could barely feel me inside her. With a look of surprise and amusement she asked, "Are you all the way in me?" When I gasped that I was, she laughed out loud, and I came. On our way home, Sally said that she loves me very much, and is very glad she is married to me. She also said that this had been the best sex she ever had. I looked at her, and asked if she really meant that. Hugging my arm she said, "Yes, I really mean that. You have never, ever made me feel like that, and I can't wait for the next time." We've just made a date for mid-June. Sally is excited, Ted is excited, and and so am I - one very happy, very humbled cuckold. We welcome your comments - to any of us - but please don't bother to flame. Paul and Sally (and Ted!) A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 02 My love, On Sunday night, the night before your most recent "date," you said, "I'm doing this for you." I know that is true, and I want you to know how much -- how very, very much -- I appreciate and love that. I do hope it wasn't terrible torture for you :-), but I still know it was for me. Thank you, my love, for doing this for me. I LOVED what you did on Monday. It was the most exciting event I can remember. I could review the question of why being cuckolded turns me on so, but it's not worthwhile. It should be obvious to you that it is real for me; not one of those fantasies which turns gold into lead when it is realized. You could see, I know, that I savor the role that you created for me, so that's where I start this. I would not like to live my life that way, but on the days that we have "played the game" -- and Monday, you played it better than ever -- I could not have been happier than to be put down, put aside and put out as you did. For whatever the psychology behind it, it was exactly the closeness which you shared with Ted which excited (which is another word for humiliated, though I've still got trouble saying that) me so. I want to tell you what I loved, and to thank you for the gift you gave... to me, and to Ted. I loved how easily you went into the bedroom with him, without me. I loved hearing you talk, and giggle, and discuss how I'd react when you threw your clothing out the door -- and how you picked up your bra and tossed it further, to be sure I could see. I thought of him seeing you, my wife, when you would not allow that to me. You looked so happy to be walking to the bedroom with him -- my wife, and another man. I loved coming into the room, and confronting the image of you -- completely naked, legs spread -- for him. You looked so comfortable giving her body to him. I loved the look on your face as he touched you and pleased you. You looked so turned on as you felt him touch your intimate places. I loved watching him massage your back, your legs, your ass, and how you kept humping your ass up to meet his hands when he touched you there. You looked so excited as he got you ready for sex. I loved how you got on top of him, and reached down to guide his penis into you. You don't know this, but your vagina was literally gaping open. I have seen you many times when we were about to have sex, and I have never seen anything like that; from my vantage point at the foot of the bed, I could see all the way up inside you. Words are one thing, but I loved how your body was hungry to have him inside. Bodies don't lie; you wanted him. I loved how his big penis slid into you so easily, with no artificial lubrication needed. Watching from between your legs, I saw how he stretched you. Every once in a while the head of his penis would emerge, and as you moved your body back down on him, I watched as your lips opened wider to fit the "crown," then -- as you always describe it, with such a wicked smile -- "pop" back around him. Sally, I saw the pop! And yes, love, I loved seeing something that made you feel so good, that only he could do for you. I loved how you fucked him so intensely that he came quickly; the man has a *lot* of self-control, and when he came I felt that you had really done a number on him. I loved watching him lose control of himself to your sex. Not only did your body stroke his penis to orgasm, but with each deep stroke and each groan, I was tortured (with pleasure) by the knowledge that I'm not big enough to feel what he was feeling in you. Watching the two of you share a pleasure that I cannot know, and that you cannot know with me, was humiliating -- and breathtaking. I loved -- I truly loved -- watching him cum in you. There is no moment of feeling cuckolded so strong as when he cums in you. I watched you turn him on -- willingly, you offered him the ultimate pleasure of your body -- and I watched him ejaculate into you. As I sat there masturbating, with my cock waving impotently in the air, he completed the sexual act with you. I watched his body spasm and he filled you with his sperm; what greater cuckolding could there be, than to watch another man inseminate my wife? He did that, and for the rest of the day, and the night, and the following day, I was haunted, and shamed, by the knowledge that his sperm was swimming inside you. I loved watching Ted make you cum. I loved the looks of absolute pleasure, absolute joy, and absolute amazement on your face, as you kept yourself at such a point of excitement for so long. Watching your face as he slid his cock all the way into you, and used it to pleasure you, was breathtaking. And watching you orgasm in his arms... I will never, ever get used to that. I watched you cast off all appearances, all pretenses, and cum before his eyes: he felt you, he saw you, he heard you. That is supposed to be mine alone, isn't it? I loved watching you give that gift to him. Oh yes, my wife: he made your toes curl! Afterward, you cuddled. Now, I cannot say how you felt about this, but I loved watching the two of you. You were *comfortable* together; that was absolutely awesome for me. You were both so at ease with each other, with each other's bodies; I watched in awe as another man fondled you, with your complete acquiescence, and how you touched him with no discomfort at all. You gently stroked his body, and he caressed your nipples, your shoulders, your pussy, everywhere. You did that for nearly an hour, and I sat in the chair, alone. You cuckolded me, my love. Believe it or not, I loved when you sent me out to get pizza. When I was delayed, I kept wondering what the two of you were doing; I felt so stupid, running errands as my wife lay in bed with her lover. When I returned and you told me that you had made him cum with your hand, I was angry; I felt cheated out of watching. Then I realized that this, too, was part of being your cuckold; it didn't matter what I wanted, because you did what *you* wanted. I loved realizing that you had made him cum because you wanted to, not because of me. And I loved being sent on an errand, like the kid brother being given money for the movies so his big sister could make out with her date. I said so to both of you, but I was taken aback by how humiliating it was to sit and talk with Ted while you were in the bathroom. There I was, sitting in "my chair" at the foot of the bed, while he lay naked in "your" bed. He made small talk with me, as if this was perfectly normal; we were each were we belonged. His cock was soft, but it was lying there in front of me; he made no attempt to cover himself, and I felt he was laughing at me (though he was too much of a gentleman to show it), for what he had done with my wife. I couldn't help staring; even soft, he's larger than I am, and the head of his cock -- that head which you speak about in such dreamy terms -- was staring back at me. He was soft because my wife had fucked him and jerked him off, while I sat in a chair and went to get pizza. I tried not to show it, but I was embarrassed beyond words by that experience. The final time you made love was something I will never forget as long as I live. You did it all, right in front of my face; you pleasured him and he pleasured you, and the result was complete humiliation for me, your husband. After I recovered from the "news" about your making him cum while I was out, you asked if I had any requests. I said yes, two: one, that you have sex again; as soon as I said that, you looked at each other, wrapped your arms around each other, said "I think we can arrange that," and fell into a very sensuous kiss. As you did, I just about croaked out the words, "That was my other request -- that you kiss each other now." You said, "Great minds think alike," and you were, literally, off and running. I loved watching you make love to his penis with your mouth. He had cum twice, and I don't know whether he or I was more surprised that he got so hard so quickly; the only one who didn't seem surprised was you. Watching you lying naked on the bed with his penis in your mouth was thrilling; watching and hearing his reactions to you was almost beyond what I could bear. I loved watching you turn him on. When you got on top of him again, and used your hand to guide him inside you, he groaned with such total pleasure that it twisted my stomach. With your permission, I sat on the floor next to the bed, where I could watch your faces as you fucked him, and what happened next was... there just are no words. You used your whole body to pleasure him -- you put your breasts in his face, and slid them along his chest; you raised your hips up until he was almost completely out of you, then you dropped onto him as hard -- and as deep -- as you could. Each time, he groaned and gasped in pleasure, and I shook with humiliation and excitement combined. You seemed totally focused on exciting him; the way you moved your body, the way you twisted your hips to move him inside you... it was awesome. At one point, you slid your body down tightly onto his; he groaned, and he said, "Oh, you really do like it deep, don't you?" As you ground your hips into him you gasped out your response: "He... never... touches... me... there." As I sat there on the floor, next to your bed, the most awesome part was knowing that it was true. I looked down at my cock, as hard and as big as it ever gets, and knew that I could not ever do what Ted was doing, and you were loving, at that moment. What you did next will always -- always -- remain in my mind, and excite me beyond words. You laid your head down on his chest, his cock deep inside you, and you looked at me. Sally, you looked RIGHT AT ME, and you gently, seductively, wickedly said, "First floor, second floor, third floor, penthouse." I knew what was happening as you said that: you were doing the "Kegel Exercises" which you learned in Lamaze, to tighten your pussy muscles. With each "floor," you were tightening your belly and squeezing him inside you! When the "elevator" reached the penthouse the second time, he groaned out loud and shook with pleasure... and you, with your head resting gently on his chest, smiled at me! That moment was the most awesome, breathtaking, humiliating moment of my life, as you allowed me to see the pleasure you took in pleasing your lover. Thank you, my love, for sharing that moment with me! I could tell he was close to cumming, when suddenly he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. I don't think I'll ever get used to the sight of you spreading your legs so wantonly, and reaching your hand down to guide his cock into you. Now there was nothing gentle, nothing subtle; he pushed inside you and fucked you hard. Sally, I'm sorry that I never knew you liked it so hard; I'm not sure even you knew it until he showed you how it felt. I promise I'll try to do it more like that, but watching him take you, I don't think I will ever be able to match his strength, his stamina OR his size. Watching him push into you, seeing his penis shine with your wetness as he pulled out on each stroke, and listening to the obscenely delighted noises you were making... I was honored to be allowed to watch, to witness him pleasing you so! And then, my wife, your lover came in you again. Less than a foot away from my face, he orgasmed in you. Grunting and groaning like an animal in heat, totally uninterested in my feelings or even my presence, he found his release in you. I watched his body spasm over and over again, as he pumped his seed into you before my eyes. You held him tightly against you with your arms, your legs and, I knew, with your pussy, until he was completely drained. When you caught your breath you turned to me, saw the cum dripping down my hand, and said, "I'm glad you enjoyed that. But you didn't enjoy it as much as I did." Later, as we left the hotel, I thanked you for what you did. I said that from these three "dates," my deepest fantasies had been fulfilled, and if you wanted to stop, It was fine with me. You asked if *I* wanted to stop, and I said no, but I was comfortable with whatever you chose to do. You thanked me, and we drove home. Three days later, you sent an email to Ted. You asked him to check his calendar, to see when you could meet again. I love you, my wife. More than words -- even all these words -- can say. Love, Paul newatthis22a@yahoo.com A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 03 The Game "It's just a game," I thought to myself, as I watched my wife having sex with her lover. For our 16th anniversary, Sally gave me the present I have wanted for years: she said she would "look into the possibility" of going to bed with another man, while I watched. To make a long story short, we found a great guy - witty, intelligent, good-looking and totally into making Sally feel wonderful. We met him once for lunch and drinks, and four times after that (the last one being last week) for sex. If you'd like the details of our earlier meetings, we have written about them: the stories are called "A Cuckold's Diary" and "Thank You, My Wife." The "game" we play is cuckolding me. Three weeks out of every month, we treat each other as equals - with love and respect, and with pleasure! But a week before each of her "dates" with Ted, Sally becomes... his. Of course, she is not really his; she doesn't want to run away with him, and she doesn't want to stay with him. But in our "game," she is his; from a week before their date until he says good-bye and leaves the hotel room, my wife gives herself to him, and not to me. No sex, no tongue-kissing, nothing; her body waits in anticipation of him. She will often masturbate during the week, thinking about her "date," but sex between us is out. Now, a "game" can mean a lot of things. It can be a couple of kids tossing a ball for half an hour, or it can be the Super Bowl, where the "game" is damn serious. As I watched my wife in the hotel room last week, I was pleased to see that she is taking our "game" very, very seriously. And I wondered - at what point of her desire, her excitement, her sex with another man, do we go from playing "the cuckold game" to playing a game with her lover, while she cuckolds me? For example: Sally had suggested to Ted that she meet him at the door wearing nothing at all. He rejected this idea, saying he did not want to be denied the pleasure of undressing her. But, he suggested that she not wear any panties. She happily complied - as we got everything ready in preparation for his arrival, she slid off her panties, handed them to me, and said, "I won't be needing these today." I folded them and put them away, pausing to savor the scent of her excitement which had soaked through them. Ted was about a half-hour behind us, so Sally sat on the couch and read while we waited. I couldn't read - I could barely breathe! - so she had me sit in a chair opposite her, where I could look at her and think about what was going to happen. As we sat, she gradually spread her legs for me, and I could see her light brown pubic hair above the tops of her stockings. At one point she spread her legs wide, and asked me if Ted would like the view. I looked at her, and realized that her pussy lips were completely swollen and red, as if she had already had sex. I told her what I saw, and she said she wasn't surprised; she was already wet inside. She allowed me to run my finger along her pussy lips, and I found she was telling the truth. Bodies don't lie: she wanted him inside her. My wife's pussy was wet and puffy as she waited for her lover. But it's just a game, right? When he arrived, she sat on the couch and spread her legs for him. He wasted no time moving over to her, to kiss her and finger her. He undressed her in a flash, and I saw her shudder as his tongue slipped into her mouth and his fingers into her sex, right there on the couch. It had been a week since a man had done that to her, and she was ready for it to happen - ready for it to happen with him. My wife shuddered as her lover kissed and fingered her. But it's just a game, right? When they got in bed, she dove for his cock. He is at least an inch longer than I am, and the head of his penis is large and flared out like a mushroom cap, where mine is the same width as the shaft. She *loves* the shape and feel of his cock, both in her mouth and in her pussy - she told me that after their first time together, as soon as she saw that I would not be upset by how much she likes it. Ever since then, she has referred constantly to "that wonderful head," and how responsive it is to her touch and her mouth. Within a minute, Ted was moaning and gasping as she stroked him, licked him and deep-throated him like a woman possessed. I watched him shudder as she slid his whole penis into her mouth, and when it was all the way in her, she looked at me with her big, beautiful eyes, then slowly closed them in ecstasy as she sucked on him. I think about that often these days, when she and I kiss. I watched her slide another man's penis in and out of her mouth, kissing it with the lips that are kissing me. But it's just a game, right? She got so excited as she sucked him that she started panting and shaking. She began stroking him with her hand, and she moved up beside him so they could kiss. They kissed deeply, passionately, and while she jerked his cock, his hands were all over her body, caressing her breasts, squeezing her nipples, sliding his finger between her legs. Even from across the room, I could hear the liquid noises as his fingers moved in and out of her pussy. She gasped as he touched her inside, and she responded with deeper kisses and faster strokes. Lying beside him on the bed, her body humped toward him, trying to draw his cock into her, she looked like she was in heat. His fingers glistened with her excitement as they grunted and moaned, mutually masturbating each other closer to the edge. Suddenly, Sally threw both her arms around his shoulders, held him to her breast and said, half-pleading and half-demanding, "I want you inside me." My wife wanted her lover to fuck her. But it's just a game, right? Ted knelt between her legs, and she pushed her hips against him, trying to draw him into her. But he had other plans; he told me to hand him the massage oil, and he began to massage her belly, her breasts, her shoulders. He was driving her crazy, and he knew it; every time he leaned toward her a little, she drove her hips up against him. She began pleading, very softly: "Please, oh please, put it in me." When he spread the oil over her thighs and worked it between her lips, her words came out in short gasps, as she forgot everything (including me) and concentrated on getting "that wonderful head" in her vagina. I took the opportunity to move my chair up beside them, and I was treated to the sight of his erection pointing at my wife, and my wife's pussy reaching for it like a kid grabbing for the brass ring. My wife didn't even notice me, as she begged her lover to enter her. But it's just a game, right? Finally, she succeeded. Slowly, slowly he slipped inside her, and her pleas turned to a gentle, continuous moan of pleasure. Her legs went from grasping at him to spreading wide, giving him complete access to her sex. He took his time with that first stroke, playing her desire and the sensations to turn her on completely. When he was all the way inside her, he began to fuck her - slowly, deliberately, and with his cock so hard that she felt it: "My God, it's so hard, it's so big, it's so deep!" she gasped. As the pace of his strokes increased, I watched my wife experiment with ways to get her legs farther apart, to get him even deeper inside her. Not waiting for him to hold her legs up, she grabbed them herself, pulling them up and apart. Her efforts were rewarded, as he evidently reached someplace where no one had been before: her sounds - not cries, not groans, but something like whimpers of surprise and delight, mixed together - were sounds I had never heard. She must have heard me groan beside the bed, because she turned her head toward me and looked at me with a look of absolute pleasure. "Paul, he's *so* much bigger than you are," she said in short, breathless words. Ted took his cue, and began fucking her hard and fast; her eyes widened as he filled her, and she smiled and said, "And he's made me so wet - I can't believe how wet I am inside. God, he is so much *better* than you, too!" That was the last attention she paid to me until they were done, as she turned back to hold him and kiss him, and fill his mouth with her groans of pleasure. I watched my wife pull her legs apart for him. I heard the liquid noises of her pussy, as his cock slid in and out. I heard sounds from her that I have never heard when we made love. And she looked in my eyes, and told me he is better. But it's just a game, right? At the height of her passion - when she was whimpering and groaning and gasping for breath - Ted withdrew his penis, and lay down beside her. He took the vibrator (that's the way she cums best), turned it on and put it between her legs. He held it there for a while, until she took it from his hands. As she used it on herself, he touched and kissed her *everywhere* - her lips, her cheeks, her shoulders, her breasts, her nipples, her belly, her legs. She responded by holding him tightly against her body with her free arm, and pushing the vibrator ever harder against her clitoris. She reached a point right before orgasm, and to my amazement, she held herself there for what seemed like an hour. Her whole body was rigid, and every touch of Ted's hand or mouth caused a mini-orgasm to shoot through her. Finally, with him sucking and kissing one nipple, and his hand between her legs, she came. She cried out (which she *never* does in a hotel room), her body tightened, and then she convulsed so hard Ted could barely hold on - but he did. She came for the longest time, and as she "came down" from her orgasm, she let go of the vibrator and held him tight, kissing him deeply while the aftershocks flowed through her body. My wife came - as hard as she has ever cum - in Ted's arms. But it's just a game, right? After holding him for a few minutes, she pushed him back on the bed, and her mouth dove onto his cock. She sucked him briefly - he was already hard as a rock - then straddled him. She reached down, took his cock in her hand, and guided it up inside her. Now she was in control, and she played his body like a virtuoso. Fast, then slow; deep, then just the head inside her. She slid her breasts up and down his chest, then offered her nipples to his mouth. I don't know what she did to his cock, but his groans and shudders became louder and more constant, and every once in a while he would shake, and they would look at each other and smile; obviously, they were both feeling something that I could not even imagine. Once I asked them what it was they were smiling at, and they said - almost simultaneously - that it was none of my business. Sally fucked Ted for a while - 15 minutes? An hour? Suddenly, she started moving faster and deeper, driving her body down onto him with a power that I could feel across the room. She looked in his eyes and said, "I want you to cum in me now." I watched her work his penis with her body, stroking it up and down, and side to side. I watched her press her body against his, to make sure he felt her excitement through every inch of her skin. I watched him try to resist, try to hold off, but no one could have done that. After just a few moments he gave in to the lust, and cried out, "Oh, OH, OOOOOHHHH I'm CUMMING!" I cannot possibly describe the groans he made, the look of pure pleasure on his face, or the huge spasms of his whole body as he came in her; all I could do was watch, and try to picture the sperm that was filling my wife as he ejaculated in her. Together, they reached the point they both longed to share. I saw my wife fuck another man. She loved it at least as much as he did. But it's just a game, right? A lot more happened that day, but that's enough for now. I leave you with two things which happened a few days later, which really made the experience perfect. First, late one evening, while we were doing chores around the house, Sally looked at me and said, "You know, it's really exciting to think that I have a lover." Later that night, she checked her e-mail. She found this note from Ted: Dear Sally, You cant imagine how high I was flying all day and even on the trip home. Wonderful time wonderful time, outstanding time. So happy that I could enjoy your body and you mine. Kisses, Ted And she responded: Dear Ted, Glad you felt the same way. I can't believe how comfortable this feels and how I now look forward to our get togethers. Your hands are terrific, and I can even now feel them as they glide over my skin. I tingle at the thought. Sweet dreams, S But it's just a game, right? ******************* Sally and Ted would love to hear your comments and compliments, and I would like to hear from fellow cuckolds, cuckold wannabees, and anyone who wants to add to the exquisite humiliation of watching my wife have sex with someone who is better than I am! Paul (and Sally, and Ted) newatthis22@hotmail.com A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 04 Chapter 4 - Not Hard INTRODUCTION The dictionary defines "cuckold" as "a man with an unfaithful wife." I've read many "hot wife" stories, and visited all the cuckold web sites, but it is clear that people have many of their own definitions of a cuckold. It has been my deepest fantasy to be cuckolded by my wife, and she had fulfilled that fantasy for me. We love each other very much, and it has been a long and sensitive process to find a place where both of us are comfortable. If you are uncomfortable with cuckolding, or if you want to define it to mean something else, that is your choice. We'd appreciate your not flaming us for taking the dictionary seriously! Paul & Sally ************************************* I couldn't even get hard. No, this is not an ad for Viagra; it is what happened when my wife Sally's new lover left us alone in the hotel room, after their first "date" together. Let me start at the beginning... You may have read the stories and seen the pictures of Sally and her first lover, Ted. That affair went on - with my blessing, and with me watching most of it - for several months, until they parted ways. Sally was hesitant about taking another lover; she may have been a "hot wife" with Ted, but she's still basically a VERY good girl, and somehow, having a lover does not fit easily with her self-image! Nevertheless, after a lot of thought and discussion, she agreed to "go shopping" once again - with the understanding that, as always, she could bail out at any time. We put our ad on the various swingers' web sites - again "looking for a gentleman." You would be absolutely amazed how many men think that a response which begins, "I've got a huge slab of meat to stick in you and make you squirm..." is being a gentleman! So, 90% of the responses got deleted without even bothering to say "no, thank you," not because we're rude, but just because their emails were so crude. The other 10% got letters back from Sally. Two of those led to meeting for a meal together, and one - a gentleman named Ty - got a nervous, but excited, thumbs-up from my wife. What made her choose him? First of all, Sally thinks that intelligence is very, very sexy (that's why she's in love with me, right?), and Ty was both intelligent and worldly. Our lunchtime discussion ranged from politics (national and international) to philosophy to authors to music to life; he wasn't showing off, just enjoying the conversation. Second, he was not from the East Coast - in fact, he is the closest thing to a cowboy either of us has met. Finally, he was not the least bit pushy... a huge plus for a nervous woman! On the way home from lunch, Sally decided she liked him enough to make a date. Ty is divorced and lives alone, and he invited us to his house. For her comfort, Sally preferred a hotel, so that is where I made a reservation. (You know, it doesn't take much to get me going; I LOVE making a hotel reservation for my wife to take another man to bed!) Since Sally was exceptionally nervous in anticipation of their date, we didn't talk about it much during the week leading up to it. The night before the date, I watched with great excitement as she shaved her legs (paying inordinate attention to the top of her legs, which can only be seen by someone who is between them!), and she allowed me to put red nail polish on her toenails. The treat for me was that she was nude while I was doing that; since we had stopped having sex a week before the date, this was the closest I had gotten to her body in quite some time, and it was the closest I WOULD get until after her new lover was finished... She slept well that night. I had an erection that just wouldn't stop, so sleep was not the main thing on my mind. The next day we went about our work, as her date was for 8 p.m. It was one of the longest days I can remember, though I was doing my best to keep my expectations in check. I really wanted her to know that she had "veto power" at any time, and it would not help to have me panting in anticipation if she changed her mind. Finally the time came, and we got in the car for the 1-hour drive. The first half-hour she talked about anything other than the date; in fact, she was so hyper that she didn't stop talking at all. When she realized that she had done a 30-minute monologue, she calmed down a little and began thinking about the man we were going to meet. When we got into the hotel room I asked her if she was wet, and she said no; she was too nervous to have that reaction. We turned on the TV and waited; it was only a few minutes before he knocked on the door, and Sally jumped a good two feet. I relate all this as background, because it is what I expected from my wife: the nervousness, the insecurity, the questions about whether to go through with this or not. What happened for the rest of the night, and in the days since... that I did NOT expect. I answered the door, and invited Ty in. I poured them each a glass of wine, and we all sat down. I did my best to be polite, but to leave the conversation between the two of them. The conversation went well... and went, and went. Sally and Ty seemed to cover the entire world again, he really is an excellent conversationalist. After about 45 minutes, I got fidgety; I began to wonder if they would just talk until saying goodnight! So, with a few not-so-subtle gestures to Sally to think about getting things going, she admitted to Ty that she wanted to get started, but was nervous. To my surprise, he did not try to get past her anxiety by making the first move. Instead, he got her to talk about everything that was making her nervous. She talked about wondering whether he would find her attractive, whether he would find her a good partner, and even about STD's. He responded to each question with compassion, concern and a wonderful sense of humor, taking nearly a half-hour to do so. Finally, when Sally realized that she wasn't worried any more, she got up, took his hand, brought him close and kissed him. Even from my perspective, I could see him molding himself to her body. He ran his fingers through her hair (she loves that), along her cheek, down her neck. They kissed again and again, and their hands gradually explored more of the other's body. Very quickly, Sally suggested that taking off her dress would make things much easier for him; she turned her back toward him (facing me), raised her arms over her head, and he slid her dress up and off her body. She turned back to kiss him, and in less than a minute he had her bra and panties on the floor. He offered her a massage, which she happily accepted. She laid on her stomach on the bed, and taking the oil in his hands, he began with her shoulders. I expected this to go on for a while; after all, he had been marvelously patient in talking with her. But within a short time, he was "massaging" between her legs, and she was making sounds of pleasure with each new touch. She quickly rolled over to offer her breasts to him. While he was busy with this new delight, she reached over and undid his pants; he paused only long enough to remove his underwear, and returned to the massage. It was she who pulled him down onto her, wrapping her arms around him and locking him in a passionate embrace. Suddenly, things were happening very quickly - and she was setting the pace! They rolled around on the bed for just a short while, until she got on top of him and I got my first shock of the evening: While she had not been at all wet just before he arrived, her pussy was now gaping open! I don't really know how to describe it, except to say that it looked like she had just been having sex for hours. Her pussy lips were red, swollen and actually hanging down; her vagina was so wide open that, sitting at the end of the bed, I could see well up inside her, and her own lubrication was glistening on her skin and on her pubic hair. I still have that image before my eyes: my "good girl" wife really wanted his cock in her - bodies don't lie! I was surprised that she slid him inside her with hardly any foreplay, until I realized that the entire hour and more had been her foreplay. She SAID intelligence was sexy - evidently, she really meant it! I sat in my chair at the foot of the bed, and watched his penis disappear inside my wife. His moans of pleasure told me he was enjoying what I had not felt in a week. He was not particularly large - about the same size as I am. Sally had enjoyed her previous lover's larger cock, and told me over and over how he made her feel things I never could, since I was smaller. I had always gotten off on that; watching a man with a larger cock take my wife was definitely a turn-on for me, and I enjoyed the sounds she made when he reached deep inside her. Afterward, when her first lover was finished, I would stick my penis in her and feel... well, feel hardly anything, as he had stretched her out sufficiently to make me feel even smaller. No matter - when I got inside her, and felt nothing, I came almost immediately. But now, something was different. Ty was not bigger, nor wider, yet Sally was whimpering, gasping and making surprised sounds of pleasure which I have never heard - either with me or with her first lover. I watched with excitement mixed with puzzlement as he made love to her: the sight of his penis sliding in and out, his hands holding her breasts and bringing her nipples to his mouth... it all looked the same - and very exciting - yet somehow different. It takes Sally a long time to cum, though anyone with the patience to help her get there is rewarded with the sight and feel and sounds of a truly earth-shattering orgasm. Ty was in no hurry at all as he explored her body, finding what places to touch and what words to say - quietly, so her husband could not hear - that would urge her on. He alternated between kissing her and sucking on her nipple - a combination which she loves dearly - and he kept sucking as she bucked and spasmed through her massive orgasm. Of course, I had seen her cum before... but was this one more intense than I knew, or was it just my different vantage point? Once she came, she drew him on top of her, thrust her legs up in the air, and with her hands on his back, drove him into her. She began telling him to cum in her (so much for the condoms she asked me to buy!), and he asked if she was sure. "Oh, God, yes. I want to feel you cum in me NOW!" she gasped. His pace quickened, and he began groaning as his body tightened. I watched as he orgasmed, his body jerking; I listened to her moans of pleasure, and I saw his muscles contract over and over, as he poured his semen into her body. When he was finished they remained in each other's arms, and his softening penis remained inside her. From time to time each would jerk with an "after-shock" which they both clearly enjoyed, and they kissed and touched each other for... for who knows how long? With a little break in the action, I noticed something curious. On previous "dates," I was hard as a rock from the first moment to the last; now, as they cuddled together in front of me, with him caressing her breasts and her hands roaming all over his body, I realized that I was having trouble staying hard. I chalked it up to a week without sex followed by this intense scene, and didn't think much more of it. I expected they would stop for a while, and I was looking forward to Sally telling me how she felt and how he felt to her, but it didn't happen. Without so much as a look in my direction, their kissing increased in intensity, the gentle caresses turned into more serious touching, and soon Sally was stroking his penis with her hand and kissing its head. She took the head in her mouth, and then she swallowed all of it, as I watched it harden in her mouth. Not 10 minutes since he came, and already getting hard again - not bad for a middle-aged guy! After his body began shaking in response to her mouth, he turned her on her back and, lying beside her, he slid his cock into her again. I watched him do this, and that is the second image that remains fixed in my mind: I saw this man slide his penis into my wife's waiting, willing pussy. I know I've seen it before, and maybe one day it won't get to me the way it does each time (boy, I hope not!), but damn, that was exciting to see. As soon as he slid into her, his cock was covered with a combination of their juices, and it glistened each time he pulled part-way out. Clearly, I wasn't the only one who was excited! Sally again made noises of pleasure and surprise, as he fucked her in one position after another. When her first lover had done this, I explained to her that his greater size made it possible for him to do things I just couldn't, and Sally seemed to accept that. Now, this man was working with basically the same equipment as mine, and doing things that I told her couldn't be done. I hoped she hadn't really noticed that, but my hopes disappeared when Ty told her how wet she felt and she responded, "I'm not usually like that." She noticed, all right. Trying to describe their position, I realize that he was beside her, in her, around her and all over her. Later, Sally told me he felt like a man dying of thirst, and she was the water he needed; he was everywhere, seemingly at the same time. She marveled at how he molded himself to her body, and it was true; the body I know so well and a body I had never seen before seemed inseparable. Her sounds of pleasure continued, intensified and became ever-newer sounds - sounds I had not heard in nearly 20 years of making love to my wife. Ty came again, with Sally's encouraging words and hungry body. I sat in my chair, masturbating furiously, as he grunted and groaned and ejaculated in her. I have always loved the sound of her lover cumming in her; it is one of those moments of absolute cuckolding, as she draws him to the heights of ecstasy and he adds his body to hers. On previous dates, it had been all I could do to keep from cumming when her lover came, but this time... this time was different. Along with the sounds of his orgasm were *her* sounds of pleasure - not orgasm, but sounds of deep, emotional satisfaction as she made him cum in her. She seemed thrilled that he came, as if it was a precious gift from him to her. By the time he finished they were again talking softly, and my own cock was soft in my hand. I guess you can say they took a break at this point, but they did not sit up, or look at me, or have a drink. They held each other, talking softly, touching gently, and kissing constantly. By now I was just plain frustrated that they had not given me the courtesy of an acknowledgment or shared any of their thoughts and feelings; this wasn't nearly as much fun as her previous dates. I chalked it up to newness, and I didn't interrupt; I figured that if Sally had a good enough time, she would want to see him again. We could always get into that stuff next time. After about a half-hour of talking, Sally gently put her head on his stomach and started gently kissing his penis. I don't think she expected anything; it was more affection than sex. Yet, Ty responded by getting hard again, and she continued her gentle fellatio for a long time. Then he whispered something to her, and she laid on her back, spread her legs, and he got on top of her. This sex was short, gentle and very romantic, and I got to marvel at the wonderful sight of my beautiful, classy wife with her feet in the air, her legs wrapped around another man's body. The only loud or abrupt sounds were when Ty came in her; he left no doubt, even for me, that he was ejaculating in my wife! After another long embrace, Sally finally looked at me and asked how I was doing. "Fine," I replied, and I asked her how it was. "Wonderful," was her answer, as she turned to kiss him again. After talking about getting together again, Ty said it was time to leave. He dressed, Sally walked him to the door, and with another gentle but passionate kiss, she said goodbye. Sally came back to me, told me to get the vibrator, and got into bed. I held the vibrator on her pussy, and asked her to tell me what she had felt. She said he was great and emphasized, over and over, that he was far better than I. She said he was a wonderful lover, not just sex partner. She admitted that she really LIKED him, which made the sex even more fun. She talked about his hunger for her, his molding himself to her body, his constant attention both in conversation and in lovemaking... and yes, he really was better, even though he wasn't bigger! I asked her (as diplomatically as possible; I wasn't there to criticize) why she had not spoken with me, or even acknowledged me, during the whole time she was in bed with him. "I thought you like it when I ignore you," she said. "Well, yes, I do," I answered, "buy you really, REALLY ignored me. Did you do that to turn me on?" She smiled, obviously thinking back to their lovemaking, and said, "No, actually I didn't. I was just having too good a time to interrupt, and I really didn't think about you very much at all." She paused. "Does that bother you?" "No, not at all," I said, but I wasn't sure if that was completely true. (Important aside: after each date with Ted, I asked Sally if she wanted to do it again, or if she would like to stop. She always accepted the openness of my offer, and after a few days' thought, would tell me it would be fine to see him again. You'll see why this is relevant...) As she got closer and closer to cumming, I sensed that there was something else she wanted to say. I didn't want to push, so I just held her and kept pressing with the vibrator. Then, as she was almost "there" - I was sucking on her nipple, the way she loves - she whispered, "Will you let me see him again?" I looked up at her face; she looked like a schoolgirl who just told a boy she likes him, and was waiting for a response. I stopped sucking just long enough to say, "Yes," and by the time my mouth found its way to her nipple again, she was cumming like a wild woman. The orgasm went on forever, and I held on, trying to keep the vibrator in place and my mouth on her breast. While I knew that I had done all the right things to make her cum, I had the suspicion that I was not the reason why she came so hard. After she recovered, she asked me to get on top of her. I reached for the K-Y, but she said I wouldn't need it; she was plenty wet inside! I said it wasn't for that; I wasn't very hard, and I needed a little lubrication to get ready. I was surprised how long it took me to get hard; this time I assumed it was because I had been masturbating for a good 3 hours without a break, and even though I hadn't cum, even that muscle can get tired after a while! Finally, I was hard enough to enter her. She didn't feel stretched out, as she had with Ted; she felt almost normal, although completely wet and slippery inside. I thought about how he had done all that with a cock no bigger than mine. I thought about her paying no attention to me at all during their lovemaking. I thought about her question, "Will you let me see him again?" And for the life of me, I could not stay hard. I tried twice more, but each time my cock just deflated when I got inside her. I took the K-Y, lubricated my cock, and masturbated as I kneeled between her legs. Just as I was about to cum, she looked at me and said, "I really like him." Four days' worth of cum, hours and hours of excitement, and a new, growing sense of jealousy erupted into a huge orgasm. Sally smiled, rolled over, and went to sleep. It has been a week now, and I've had the chance to evaluate what happened, what I felt, and what I feel. What happened, it turns out, is that I was truly, genuinely cuckolded for the first time. The dictionary defines "cuckold" as "a man with an unfaithful wife" and that, for a few hours last week, is what my wife was. Previously, she had SEX with Ted; she enjoyed it tremendously, and she also knew that she was doing it because I begged her to do it. So, even in bed with him, she was thinking of me. But this was different: she stopped thinking about me somewhere during the latter part of their conversation, and by the time she laid down in bed, she was doing it for herself. She ignored me because she was too busy, too involved with another man. She didn't think about me because he had all her attention and all her affection. She came in his arms because he made her feel so good, and she made him cum because she wanted to make him feel good. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 04 About three days ago, she asked me if I was jealous. I thought about it, and said yes. She was only half-surprised, so she asked me how I felt about that. I told her it was the most exciting thing I had ever felt in my life. She understood, and with the reassurance that I was all right with it (MORE than all right!), she told me I had good reason to be jealous. I asked her if she had been unfaithful to me. She said yes. Now Sally checks her e-mail every day, to see if Ty has been able to clear his calendar for their next date. She decided it will be fine to go to his place this time. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 05 It is so exciting when a woman spreads her legs. Oh, yes, I love seeing her expose her breasts, or slide her panties off, but when she opens her legs... well, that does it for me. Maybe it goes back to high school. Growing up in the age of miniskirts, I was always in awe of - and frustrated by - how well the girls managed to keep their modesty intact, especially given how little material there was to cover up with. I always longed for a peek, a momentary glimpse between their legs. So to this day, when a woman willingly, happily spreads her legs, it drives me wild. These were the thoughts going through my mind last Tuesday, as I sat in a chair and watched my wife spread her legs for her lover, Ty. It started Sunday night, two days before their date. Of course, Sally and I had not had sex in days; that is always off limits to me when she's preparing for her lover. But on Sunday night she bathed, then laid down on the bed for me to put nail polish on her toenails and to put lotion on her skin. In the past, she has favored me by spreading her legs while I ministered to her; even if I could not touch her, I still reveled in the sight of her open pussy lips, and thought about her lover there, inside her. This time, however, she kept her legs closed. While I applied the nail polish, I thought it was just coincidence; but when I spread the lotion on her skin, and tried to work my hands between her thighs, the steady resistance made it clear that this was no accident. I didn't say a word, and I went to sleep with a raging erection: her pussy was, truly, for him alone. If you read the story of Sally's first date with her new lover, you know that this experience is very different from that of her first lover, Ted. Ted was great sex, but no emotion; with Ty, Sally is feeling all kinds of emotions, and they have great sex, too. The difference was clear to me even as they made love the first time, and it was confirmed by Sally the next day when she asked, as a little girl in a candy store would ask for a treat, if I would let her see him again. She thought it was "cute" that I was jealous, and in fact, she enjoyed it. And when, a few days later, I asked her if there was anything for me to be jealous about, she gave it some thought then responded, "Yes, I guess there is." The lowest point (though it's hard to describe it as "low" when my cock stood up so high as a result) was just the other night. We were making love, and I was determined to do my best to turn in a performance that was not second best to anyone. As I neared my climax she looked into my eyes and said, in her dreamiest voice, "I really miss him." Hearing that, I came as hard as I ever have, and her words have echoed in my ears ever since. Back to the story of her spreading her legs! On Tuesday, the day of their date, Sally came home from work, showered and dressed without allowing me in the bedroom. We got in the car and drove to Ty's house; after our first date in a hotel, she decided she was comfortable enough to go to his home! On the way, she talked about what she liked about him, and what turned her on; she also reminded me that I was not to cum the entire time we were there; a hotel room was one thing, but I had no right to mess up his carpet. When we arrived, he welcomed her with a hug and a kiss, and gave us a tour of the house. He collects art, loves music and hoards books on the widest variety of topics; Sally has always said that intelligence turns her on, and given that, he was engaging in world-class foreplay. They shared some wine, and sat and talked for nearly two hours. I know that for them it was truly foreplay; for me it was simply excruciating. Finally, as he showed her more of his artwork, I finally broke down and asked him to show her the bedroom. He smiled, said "with pleasure," and led her up the stairs. Even in the bedroom, they took their time. He showed her the paintings on the walls, she admired the fish in the fish tank, and only when there seemed to be nothing left to talk about did they sit down together on the bed. Ty leaned back, and Sally followed. They kissed for just a minute, and then Sally turned to throw her leg over him. As she slid up and down, rubbing his cock with her pussy through all their clothing, I realized that this was the first time she had spread her legs in four days. She sat up on him long enough to pull her blouse over her head (she was not wearing a bra), and Ty immediately leaned forward to take her nipples in his mouth. Sally let out a tiny gasp of pleasure and sat down harder on his cock, as if she was trying to draw it out through his pants. After a few minutes of her humping and his sucking, they separated only long enough for Sally to push his pants to the floor, and for him to do the same to hers. She started to go down on him, but she had his cock in her mouth for no more than 30 seconds when he rolled over on her, placed himself between her legs, and slid his cock into her. When she and I make love, she always wants me to use some lubrication, but he slipped into her without any problem. She spread her legs wide, curling them around his ass to draw him deeper inside her. As he pushed into her, she grabbed her legs and held them up and out. My wife, the woman who had not even let me see between her legs, was now holding them apart for her lover. I must admit that Ty does not make love like anyone I've ever seen. With him, it is a constantly changing picture, like a kaleidoscope. He changes position, changes angle, stops fucking for a while, kisses and sucks, sticks his cock back inside her... it goes on for hours, and he never seems to slow down. Every new position, every new approach, brought sighs and squeals of pleasure and delight from my wife, and every touch of her hand, her lips and her pussy made him harder and spurred him on. And they kissed - God, how they kissed! Sometimes he drew her lips to his, and just as often she offered her mouth to him. They only stopped kissing long enough for him to kiss her breasts, and for her to take his cock in her mouth. Through it all, her legs were spread. She kept them open - for his fingers, for his lips, for his tongue, and for his penis. She offered herself willingly, and as they made love, her pussy lips swelled and her vagina gaped open more and more. As I watched from the chair at the foot of the bed, I could not help but compare: I had been offered her legs, closed tightly from her hips to her knees; but to him she gave everything. From a complete view of her pubic hair to free entry to her vagina, my wife gave it all to him. Her orgasm was huge. She built toward it for a long time, and when it hit he held her tightly as she bucked and spasmed in his arms. I watched with my heart banging through my chest with jealousy and, I admit it, excitement, as she transformed from my classy, modest wife into a grunting, gasping woman in the throes of ecstasy - and in the arms of her lover. She came for a long, long time, and as the spasms subsided he kept holding her tightly, kissing and touching her all over her body. The "aftershocks," as she calls them, went on for another 10 minutes - far, far longer than they ever have with me. Even then, her legs never closed. She got up and knelt over his cock, facing her ass toward me as she sucked and licked him. From my vantage point, I could see her pussy lips hanging down and open, and I could see way up inside her. Her vagina was coated with a mixture of their bodies' fluids, and her lips were deep purple, engorged with blood and virtually begging for sex. I sat no more than a foot from her pussy, but I knew that the invitation was not for me. Sure enough, soon after I thought that, she moved up to kiss him, reached down with her hand, and slid his penis into her body's open lips. I watched her fuck him - dangling her breasts in front of his face, inviting him to suck them, and alternately loosening her body's grip on his cock, then tightening it with those wonderful "Kegel exercises" she learned before childbirth. Each time she squeezed his cock with her body he moaned in appreciation, until finally he could take no more. He pulled out of her, turned her on her back, and drove his cock into her. I saw her continue to squeeze and release his penis with her body, and as the squeezes and the fucking increased in speed and intensity, his moans turned into shouts of pleasure. Again and again he drove his body down onto her, and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, drawing him into her and drawing his orgasm and his cum out of him. I watched in awe as he ejaculated in my wife, as her open legs and open lips welcomed his sperm into her womb. When they were done, her legs still remained open: wrapped around him, hugging him as she was doing with her arms. Only when they arose from the bed did she look at me, and then, for the first time in a week, she spread her legs for me: she told me to lie down on the floor, and she squatted above my face. I looked up into her gaping pussy, and saw her lover's cum flow out of her body, into my open mouth As I licked his ejaculate from her body, the two of them had a good laugh about how turned on it made me. We dressed, Sally and Ty said their good-byes, and we got in the car for the ride home. She was very excited about the evening, and told me all about how good he made her felt, and how much she enjoyed every minute and every sensation. Passing a rest area, I pulled in; she thought I was going to jump her right there, but I assured her that I would not. I said there was one question I wanted to ask, and I wanted to look in her eyes when she answered. When we stopped, I reminded her of the definition of a cuckold - "a man with an unfaithful wife" - and I asked her to tell me, truthfully, if there was any point in the evening when she had been unfaithful to me. She thought for a moment, then softly said, "Yes." I asked her when that was, and she said it was when he first went inside her. All she wanted in the whole world was to open her legs as wide as she could, and to feel him slide into her body. She said it would not have mattered one bit if I was there or not, because she thought of nothing other than feeling him in her. That, she explained, was why she had not opened her legs for me. She was saving it for him. I told her I understood. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 05a THREE TIMES BETTER We know there are a lot of stories out there which have no basis in reality, and some of them are fun to read anyway. But we also know that we get a real charge out of reading real-life "adventures"; knowing that someone's wife really is going out with other men does it for us! So, here is our latest real-life adventure; we hope you enjoy, because we sure did! Compliments to Sally, condolences to Paul are all welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Paul & Sally **************************** After my wife Sally's last date with her lover, Ty, she came down with the flu (no, it was not related), so we only had a chance to make love once after her date. Following the flu was her period, and since it was only three weeks until her next date, we had sex only once more - just four days before the date. I think it was a "mercy fuck," but I wasn't arguing. Their date was last Tuesday. When we got up that morning, she asked what I was going to do all day; Tuesday is my day off. I said I'd probably stay around the house and masturbate, thinking about her and Ty that evening! Sally suggested that a more constructive use of my time would be to go to Victoria's Secret and buy a new negligee for her. She said she had special plans for the evening: since we were going straight to Ty's house, she thought she's wear *only* the negligee, and a long raincoat over it. She asked me to choose something that would turn her lover on as soon as he saw it; she said she knew she could trust me to choose well. Before she left for work, she told me she would "beep" me on my pager when she wanted to say hi, and when she wanted me to know that she was thinking about him. She said she'd beep me with a "3", so, of course, I asked her why a 3. She smiled a wicked smile, kissed me on the cheek, and said, "Because he's three times better than you." After she left, and after I finally pulled my hand away from my cock (she doesn't allow me to cum for 4 days before her dates, so I'm "in the right frame of mind"; that means I just masturbate without end), I went to VS. The salesgirl thought it was SO wonderful that I was choosing a negligee for my wife for no particular reason - not a birthday, anniversary, etc. I didn't think it would have been appropriate to explain exactly WHY I was buying it for her, so I just left it at my being wonderful. I don't know if she noticed that I had to sneak behind a rack and readjust myself a few times, but the thought that I was choosing the "gift wrap" for her body was really more than I could take. The negligee I chose was plain black silk, with a little lace at the bodice. I bought matching black panties, and got out of the store before I embarrassed myself. It was fortunate I left when I did; as I walked through the mall with my package, my beeper went off... with a "3". At the same moment that I was thinking about her lover undressing her, she was, too! I carpooled the kids all afternoon (that's what a "day off" means in suburbia), and every once in a while the beeper would remind me that this ordinary day had the potential to turn into an extraordinary night. I was in a continuous state of arousal, which I tamed just long enough to shuffle the kids from place to place without getting in trouble. Finally, it was time to go. Sally put on the negligee. She looked absolutely, totally stunning. It was not obscene, but quietly, beautifully sexy. I wanted to touch her so much, but I was not allowed; I bought the wrapping, but the gift was for Ty. She threw a loose-fitting dress over her negligee, and we headed out. About 10 minutes from his house, we found enough of a break in the traffic for her to remove the dress and slide the raincoat on over her shoulders. She also put on the "Sweater Pumpers" I had gotten for her - custom-sized nipple rings, in sterling silver. Watching her work the rings over her nipples, and realizing that she was doing this for another man, made me so horny and jealous I almost cried. When we arrived at Ty's home, Sally took a deep breath, wrapped her raincoat around her, and walked to the door. He met her on the front step, and they kissed - something between passionate and polite, given the public location. We went inside, and Ty offered her a glass of wine. They stood and talked in the kitchen for a few minutes, and she kept the coat buttoned. When they came into the living room, she undid the buttons and allowed the top to fold open. "Oh, my goodness!" was his reaction. The first two times they met, Sally and Ty talked for a long time - literally for hours - before anything even remotely sexual occurred. This time, inspired by the beautiful sight of her nearly-bare shoulders and the way the silk lay against her breasts, he just could not keep his hands off her. As they spoke about what was new in each other's lives, he gently massaged her shoulders, and then gradually extended his reach to her breasts. It wasn't long before he was gliding his hands over her entire breasts, and he looked puzzled as one of the nipple rings came off in his hand. Sally explained that I had gotten them as a gift for the two of them, and he looked delighted. Sliding the negligee off her right breast, he took her nipple in his fingers and tried to slip the ring back into place. Her nipples were already hard and swollen, so he had no success. I suggested, with a catch in my voice, that the rings went on easier if the nipple was wet. Without a moment's hesitation he leaned over, took my wife's nipple in his mouth, and licked and sucked it until it was sufficiently wet - although also a good deal harder! I watched, hardly able to breathe, as he gently slid the ring back into place, and then held her breast in his hand to admire his work. He looked so comfortable touching my wife's intimate places, and she enjoyed it tremendously. After a minute of his "adjusting" the other ring, Sally arose and said it was time to go upstairs. When they got to his bedroom, Sally asked me to pull down the covers for them. Even though it only took a few seconds, the thought that I was preparing the place for these lovers to lie together was exquisitely exciting - and the thought that one of these lovers was my wife was unbearably humiliating. I prepared their bed, then sat in the chair on the othe side of the room. Sally just about tore off Ty's clothes, and he never even got the negligee off her. He pushed her panties to the floor, and their bodies wrapped around each other as if they had been created for just this. Almost immediately, Ty got on top of her and guided his penis into her. I wondered how well that would work, as Sally always takes a while to build up enough lubrication when we make love; to my great surprise, he slid right into her, and as she wrapped her legs around his back, I saw moisture dripping from her vagina. Obviously, it didn't take her as long to get excited when she is with him, and all I could think about was that three times better also meant that her body only needed one-third the time to prepare for his cock. They fucked slowly, with Ty moving from side to side, trying different positions and different thrusts. I watched the two of them glowing with pleasure, as they looked in each other's eyes and felt each other's body. Sally is not particularly vocal in bed - I think that's the result of having three children at home - but her little gasps and moans of pleasure, coupled with the movements of her body to draw him deeper inside her, were fantastically exciting for me as well as for her lover. After a long time (who knows how long?), I heard Sally encouraging him to cum in her. He tried to resist, but I could see her moving her body to excite him, and that did it. He pushed his penis all the way inside her, and lay almost perfectly still while he groaned through his orgasm. I watched in awe as she gave him such pleasure and he gave her his sperm... I tried to picture the semen traveling from his body, through his penis deep inside her, and into her vagina. I thought all those thoughts about being cuckolded, and they were correct: another man ejaculating in my wife was as humiliating, and as exciting, as anything I had ever imagined. Like the first time all over again, I watched another man take my wife - and my wife give herself to him - willingly, joyfully, freely, and completely uninterested in her husband who was in the same room. After the final spasms of his orgasm subsided, Sally picked up her favorite vibrator (which I had been asked to plug in and leave ready by the bed), and touched it to her clitoris. Ty wrapped his body around her, took her nipple in his mouth, and slid his finger into her vagina. The combination was just perfect, and I heard her whisper to him, "I love the way you touch me." In just a few minutes Sally was about to cum. I watched her use her free hand to hold his mouth to her nipple, and as she came she held him tightly to her. In the middle of her (lengthy) orgasm, he stopped sucking on her breast and looked at her face, watching her expressions as she came. Doing that was one of the most intimate things he did that night, as I realized that this man now *knew* Sally - not just in the Biblical sense, but knew what she looked like when she came. Very few men know that look, but now he saw it from the vantage point of her lover. As I know my wife, so does he. While I sat in a chair, across the room. Her "aftershocks" continued for several minutes, and as soon as she caught her breath she dropped the vibrator, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him deeply. It was just a minute before he rolled over on top of her again, and when she willingly spread her legs, his cock found its place inside her. I went to sit on the floor, next to the bed, to watch them from a closer vantage-point; when I did, Sally acknowledged me for the first - and only - time that evening. She reached out her hand, and when I took it in mine, she let me hold her hand while her lover fucked her. I could feel the tension, the pleasure, the excitement through her hand, and I thought how so few people would understand the pleasure I got from holding her hand while she gave her body to another. Then, while she held my hand, she looked in Ty's eyes and said, "I love how you feel inside me." It was not just the most exciting moment of the evening; it was one of the most exciting moments of my life! Ty began to pump harder, and Sally began to... to what? It was something between a sigh and a moan, but I cannot describe it other than to say that we all understood that he was making her feel VERY good. I knew she would draw her hand away soon - it seemed only right - but before she did, she held out three fingers for me to see, and then she wrapped them around my outstretched hand. I got the message: Ty really was three times better, and I was witness to it happening right before my eyes. As my own cock tried to leap off my body, she pulled her hand away, wrapped it around his back, and squeezed him with her arms, with her legs and with her pussy, until he came. I sat on the floor, not two feet from them, as her lover groaned and jerked and spasmed and once again made my wife his own. When he finished ejaculating in my wife, he rolled off her and they lay together and talked softly. The softness was appropriate, both because of the tenderness they had shared and because the conversation was, clearly, private - and private did not include me. The whole time they talked, their hands roamed lovingly over each other's body; not exactly sexual, but then again, what would you call it when he kept stroking her breasts, and she his cock and balls? Ty looked fucked out and happy, and I think he figured his night was over, but Sally had other plans. After about 15 minutes of talking and touching and, increasingly, some passionate kissing, Sally got on top of him. She continued to kiss him as her pussy began caressing his cock. To everyone's amazement, it responded to the kiss of her "other lips," and began to harden. When she felt it, she reached between them and guided it into her vagina. I think she knew it would be a challenge to make him cum again; from my vantage point beside the bed, I could see her working every muscle to turn him on. She offered him her breasts, which he held and kissed and sucked; she said when she did that, the electricity flowed from her nipples to his cock. She didn't know whether playing with her breasts turned HIM on, or whether it turned HER on so much that he felt it, but in either case, the result was magical: he began to hump back, sticking his cock as deep into her as possible, meeting every thrust of her body. Suddenly, he wrapped both his arms around her neck, drew her mouth to his, kissed her deeply, and erupted in the loudest, most intense orgasm of the night. He threw his head back and his whole body went stiff, with only his hips moving as they pushed his cock and his cum into her. He groaned so loudly that it brought me out of my trance of watching them, and made me realize what had just happened before my eyes: for the third time tonight, my wife had given her body to another man, and brought him to the top of the world. Yes, she would go home with me, but she would take with her millions of her sperm, and she would leave him with the feelings of her body and the taste of her kisses. A few minutes later, Sally got up and quickly dressed - if you can call pulling up the negligee straps and finding her panties "dressing" - and she went downstairs. I was still fumbling to pull up my pants over my straining erection, and Ty was finding his clothes, so we were alone together. All I could think of to say was, "Thank you for treating my wife so wonderfully in your bed." "Oh, it was my PLEASURE," he replied. On the drive home, Sally talked about how wonderful he was, and how much she enjoyed all of it. She thanked me for choosing the negligee, and told me it obviously worked; from the very first moment her hand brushed over his cock, while they still sat on the couch in the living room, he was hard as a rock! "And you know what I just realized?" she added. "Last time, he came in me three times. This time he did it again. In between, you only came in me twice. So, he's not only three times better, but he's cum in me three times more than you have, too!" She said she really liked that, and asked how it made me feel. I said, as I drove my wife home with her lover's sperm swimming around inside her, that I liked it, too. Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 05b Note: To all our friends who have written to us about our stories, we want to say thank you; to the other writers who have shared their "adventures," we are grateful for giving us the inspiration to make our fantasies real; and to those who have written to flame, we truly hope you get a life one day! I am writing because our relationship has taken a new turn; one which is very exciting for both of us, but which may not translate so well into stories. From the first time I found Internet discussion of cuckolding, I was amazed to read of women who have had the same lover for five, 10 or more years, with the knowledge and blessing of their husbands. Now I understand - it looks like my wife is becoming one of those lucky women, too. Those of you who have been following Sally's exploits know that she has had three lovers. The first, Ted, was both sensitive and an excellent lover. With all of Sally's misgivings about becoming a "hot wife," there were a thousand things that could have soured her on the whole experience; instead, she had a wonderful time and laid (!) the foundation for what was to come (!) in the future. When Ted moved on, we met Ty, who turned out to be one of the most interesting people we've ever met - in any situation. He's a world traveler, exceptionally literate, and a lover of good conversation. It took me a while to realize that the hours he and Sally spend talking together were not necessarily designed to make me crazy with anticipation - rather, they were intense foreplay which got *Sally* crazy with anticipation, and prepared her for the lovemaking which followed. It was after her first date with Ty that she asked me - for the first time - if it would be all right with *me* if she saw him again. Now, THAT was something I never expected to hear from my proper, upstanding-citizen wife! We got together with Ty several times, until he drove both of us crazy with his schedule; it would be weeks between notes from him, and he was erratic enough in his communication to lead Sally to believe he just didn't care very much. After one long period of silence, we went searching again, and that is when we found Joshua - a different experience completely. Joshua was an ex-Ranger, tall and muscular, extremely well endowed, very young and black. It was an experience in pure sex for Sally, which was a lot of fun, very intense, and sometimes uncomfortable for her, because outside of the sex, there was almost nothing they had in common, and conversation was sometimes strained. It was right after a date with Joshua that she fired up her Hotmail account and found a note from Ty. She read it, read it again, then said she wanted to talk with me. I had no idea what to expect, and I sure as hell didn't expect what I heard. She began by saying "I'm sorry," and I held my breath; I thought then that she was going to say she didn't want to continue our cuckold games any more. Her apology continued: "I know how much you got turned on by my having sex with Joshua, and how upset you were when Ty left me hanging... But, when I got the email from Ty, I realized that I really like him and I really want to see him again. I'm sorry, Paul; I know it's not what you want, but I really want to see him instead of Joshua." I was speechless. I WANTED to respond, but I couldn't form the words. She thought I was upset, and trying to control myself; in fact, I was more turned on than I had been at any time in the past year and a half - hell, in most of my life! She hugged me, trying to make up for my disappointment, and after a few seconds I pulled away from her arms, sat her down opposite me, and began to tell her what I was feeling. "Sally, my love... for seventeen years I have dreamed of you having sex with another man and cuckolding me. At first, you couldn't believe I really wanted you to have sex with another man. Then you couldn't believe that I really got off on knowing that the other man was better than I am. But I've told you the truth from the beginning: I have always wanted you to cuckold me. So now you tell me that you don't want to see Joshua again - NOT because you don't want to be unfaithful to me, but because you've found a lover you really like, and want to be with. My love, I am NOT upset; I am excited beyond words!" She looked at me with her eyes wide - a combination of insecurity and hope. "Really?" she asked. "You're not disappointed that I don't want to see Joshua again?" "Do you WANT to see Ty?" I asked. "Oh, yes!" she answered. "Do you WANT to go to bed with him?" "Yes, I do. Very much." "Why?" She thought for a minute, then responded, "He's smart, and funny, and he makes me feel like a woman - pretty, and desirable and sexy - and he's a wonderful lover, and I want to spend time with him, and with him in me. If you're asking whether I'm doing this for you, I'm really not. I'm glad you get into it, but I want to see him - and to be with him. I just don't know if he wants to do it..." Shaking - almost to the point of convulsing - I asked her if she would like me to contact him and find out. She smiled a smile of genuine delight, and said yes. To make a long story short(er), Ty was very pleased to hear that Sally wanted to see him. We all got together for dinner one evening, and after dinner we walked through a nearby park. The two of them held hands, and later wrapped their arms around each other's waist as they walked; I dutifully followed behind. Near the end of their walk, Sally asked if she could see him at his house the following week; he responded with a kiss. All the way home that night, she talked about him. Their conversation at dinner and during their walk had been completely G-rated, but as they had done previously, they ranged through topics as diverse as dinosaurs and modern theater. She has always said that she finds intelligence sexy; obviously, it was true, as she was completely taken with him. When we got home, she asked if I was really all right with her seeing him instead of Joshua. I answered by reminding her of the definition of a cuckold: "a man with an unfaithful wife," and I asked her if she wanted him enough to be unfaithful to me. She smiled - obviously thinking back to her feelings as he held her and walked with her - and said yes. She asked me when I wanted to start "playing the game," and I said I was ready as soon as she was. "All right, then," she said with authority, "let's begin NOW. You can't cum until after he does, you can't even go inside me until after he does, and you're going to spend the whole week helping me get ready for him. Okay?" What could I answer? I've never gone seven days without cumming before, but I did. I've hardly ever gone seven days without having sex with her, but I did. And as of four days before their date, she added something new: I couldn't even SEE her undressed! She closed the door when she changed, she closed the door when she showered, and I had to face away from her on the bed when she masturbated. Through the mattress I felt her shake and spasm when she came, and when she said I could look at her again, she was in her nightgown and under the covers. Just before she fell asleep she whispered to me that she was thinking about him when she came, and that she would fall asleep with the thought that soon she would be in his arms. A few days before their date, she said she wanted to know something: "If you're so excited by my being unfaithful to you, wouldn't the *ultimate* turn-on be if I left you for another man?" "No," I replied. "What excites me is that you are MINE, and are giving yourself to another man. I never want to lose you - I just want to share you." She liked that answer, and as my reward, she began reminding me that she had already judged him to be three times better in bed than I am. Throughout the last days of "preparation," she'd call my beeper and type in just the number "3"; that was all I needed to understand that she was thinking of - and looking forward to - him. All week long, as I masturbated almost continuously ( without relief, of course), I thought about what was happening. I thought about her *liking* him. I thought about her *wanting* him. I thought about her decision that she would give him her body, and I would get only my own hand. I thought about her answer when I asked, late one night, if I should be jealous; she thought for a minute, then said yes. Shuddering and stuttering my response, I asked if I should be a LITTLE jealous, or a LOT jealous. She said, "I'm not going to leave you, but I think you should be a lot jealous." I asked, almost pleaded, "Are you telling me the truth?" "Yes," she responded, "I am. And the more you whimper at me, the more attractive he becomes." So I didn't bring it up again. I just masturbated and thought about how this was my wife's decision: as she got ready for her lover, I got only my hand. I didn't bring the camera that night; it just would not have been appropriate. Nor will I go into all the details of their lovemaking, other than to say that before they began, she told Ty everything she had done with (and to) me that week. She said she hadn't let me touch her, since she was saving herself for someone else. He smiled, asked if it was anyone he knew, and took her into his arms... and his bed. I learned something that night: there IS something more exciting than pictures of a hot wife in action with her wedding ring showing! After they undressed, and just before they laid down together, Sally pulled off both her engagement ring and her wedding ring, and threw them in my direction. I caught the diamond, but the wedding ring fell, so I had to search around on the floor to find it. By the time I found it, they were lying in bed, kissing each other. I slipped both rings onto my pinkie, and looked at them throughout the night. Sorry if it wouldn't make a great picture, but holding Sally's wedding ring while she made love to Ty was unbelievably exciting! She came hard that night, and he did, too. They made love for nearly two hours, nonstop. I sat on a chair, and occasionally on the floor next to them, and watched them pleasure each other. I watched them touch each other everywhere, and they almost never stopped kissing. In fact, when Sally began to cum, Ty drew her face to his, and kissed her deeply throughout her orgasm. A few times, when I sat on the floor by the bed, I reached over and took Sally's hand in mine. I held her hand while he was inside her, and I will never, ever forget that feeling. At times she squeezed my hand back, and at times she held out three fingers - a quiet confirmation that she still felt he was three times better than I. On the drive home, I asked her if she minded when I held her hand; she said no, she liked it. She said it made her feel anchored; she knew that I loved her, and that she was free to enjoy the sensations of her lover without guilt or concern. I was so pleased to hear that! All the way home, she sat quietly. A few times she asked if I was all right, and if I minded her enjoying her feelings in silence. Of course, it was fine with me. At home, I really tried to stay hard enough to make love to her, but I just could not. She teased me about it, saying he could only be three times better if I at least did SOMETHING. Every time I got soft she giggled, and finally she drew me to her, hugged me tightly, and said, "I think even your body understands that I was his tonight. Why don't you jerk off like a good little boy?" I agreed, and just as I was about to cum, she looked into my eyes and said, "Thank you for tonight. I really loved being with him." Hearing that, and releasing a week's worth of tension and sex, I came more than I can ever remember. Two days later, sitting next to her at a meeting, a thought crossed my mind - and has stayed there ever since. I thought, "My wife has a lover. There is a man she longs to be with, who sees all of her, feels all of her, and takes what is supposed to be mine, with her permission and her pleasure." So, there you have it. Sally and I still make wonderful love together, and we both renewed our promise that we will spend the rest of our lives together. But there is another man for her, and we've just set up their next date. She's very happy about that, and so is he. And as for me, my fantasy is fulfilled every day: I'm her cuckold. Paul & Sally Your comments, compliments and shared experiences are welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 05c Preface: The dictionary defines "cuckold" as "a man with an unfaithful wife." I've read many "hot wife" stories, and visited all the cuckold web sites, but it is clear that people have many of their own definitions of a cuckold. It has been my deepest fantasy to be cuckolded by my wife, and she had fulfilled that fantasy for me. We love each other very much, and it has been a long and sensitive process to find a place where both of us are comfortable. If you are uncomfortable with cuckolding, or if you want to define it to mean something else, that is your choice. We'd appreciate your not flaming us for taking the dictionary seriously! Sincerely, Paul & Sally * * * * * I remember exactly when it happened. My wife, Sally, had just finished undressing, and her lover, Ty, was hugging her from behind - one hand around her waist, the other caressing her breast. As she kicked off the panties she had just allowed to fall to her ankles, she looked across the room to where I was sitting in "my chair." She smiled, and I smiled back, and then she raised her left hand to eye-level, slipped off her wedding ring, and threw it to me. I didn't catch it, so I scrambled around the floor to find it. When I found it and sat up again, she and Ty were already in his bed, lying naked in each other's arms. Later, when we were talking about the evening, I asked Sally why she took off her wedding ring. She said that it was her final acknowledgement - to herself as much as to me - that when it came to sex, she wanted to be with him, not me. For the time they spent together in bed, she did not want to be my wife having sex with another man; she wanted to be his. This realization hit both of us like a brick, and led to everything that has happened since. Allow me to begin earlier, if not actually at the beginning. After a total of three lovers, Sally decided in the summer of 2000 that she really liked Ty, the second man whose bed she shared since we began our little "adventure." More than just the sex, she liked his company; that, of course, made the sex even better! (You can read of her earlier experiences with him in the files in our Yahoo briefcase.) Since her time with Ty had become more than just a night of sex - and something she found herself looking forward to several days in advance - she decided to change the way we prepared for their "dates." Up to that time, before each date she would cut me off from cumming for about 6 days, and around 3 days or so before the date, she cut me off from even entering her. I would help her to masturbate, I would help her to dress for her date, and afterward we would come home and make love while she told me about her date. (During their lovemaking, I was allowed to sit in a chair in the room and masturbate, but they basically ignored me from their first kiss to their last goodbye for the evening!) Before that fateful date, however, she changed the rules. While I was still not allowed to cum as of six days before the date, at four days she announced that she didn't want me to see her undressed anymore; she was "saving herself for him." I was okay with that - in fact, it was exciting - until I realized that she was damn serious about it. She treated me like an outsider, changing in the bathroom, wearing long, flannel pajamas to bed (the kind my father called, "Victoria's Grandmother"), and literally jumping to cover herself if I ever walked in on her unexpectedly. I was a little taken aback, especially by how it appeared that she REALLY didn't want me to see her; it seemed less like a game, and more like she was serious about it. Still, it excited me, so I played along willingly. She was true to her word, and from that point until we got to Ty's bedroom, I never saw any more of her body than anyone else in the world. On Tuesday afternoon, when she was upstairs dressing for her date, I went to join her after running (many) errands for her; to my surprise, the bedroom door was locked. When I knocked, she told me - quite firmly - to go away, she was dressing. She eventually came downstairs, looking absolutely beautiful. We drove to Ty's house and picked him up to go to dinner; they sat in back, of course, while I drove. We shared a wonderful dinner (though I didn't have much of an appetite), and they talked, as always, about everything under the sun. He keeps surprising us with the breadth of his knowledge and experience, and Sally translates that fascination directly into sexual energy. We drove back to his home, and he went ahead to unlock the front door. As Sally and I walked together I whispered, "Are you wet?" And she responded, with a sharp intake of breath, "Oh, God, yes!" Inside, they talked for a short while, then made their way upstairs, with me following at a respectful distance. As quickly as they entered the room, Ty was behind her, and with admirable dexterity he reached under her blouse and undid the clasps on her bra. I saw the bra fall away from her breasts, and her nipples stuck out through the fabric of her blouse; she really was excited, and he had barely touched her! I saw the outlines of his hands reach under her top; her eyes closed and she leaned back into him as he pinched her nipples between his fingers. She nearly ripped her blouse off, and the bra fell to the floor with no additional effort. She tried to turn to face him, but he held her tightly, kissing her neck and caressing her breasts. So, she reached down, unzipped her skirt, and let it fall. She broke his grasp only long enough to slide her panties down past her hips, where they (and gravity) took over, and they wrapped themselves around her ankles. She gracefully stepped out of them, threw her wedding ring at me, and turned to her lover. As I said, I crawled around on the floor for a minute or two, searching for the ring. When I found it, I slipped it onto my little finger to keep from losing it, and returned to my chair. By this time, Sally and Ty were lying together in the bed. He (or she) had pulled down his pants and underwear, and he was just kicking them off as I looked up. They kissed for a few minutes, with his hands traveling all over her body, then she moved down and took his cock into her mouth. "I bet you didn't get this hard from thinking about your work, did you?" she asked lovingly. Without waiting for an answer, she took his whole penis in her mouth; then his only answer was a loud groan of pleasure. She licked and sucked him for a little while, until her turned her onto her back and got between her legs. Oh, how I love the sight of my wife willingly spreading her legs for her lover! I watched her reach down and guide his penis into her, and I heard that familiar gasp/whimper/cry which Sally makes when I first enter her. The sudden realization that while I heard the sound, I did not cause it, nearly made me cry... and made me unbearably horny! I will not go into the who-put-what-where description of their lovemaking, other than to say that my wife had a massive orgasm in her lover's arms, and he came twice, deep inside her body. When he cums, he drives his cock all the way inside her and remains perfectly still; the only way I can tell he is cumming is by the deep, gutteral groans which anyone would know meant he was having an orgasm. Sally told me that accompanying the sounds, she feels his penis twitching and ejaculating in her; without all the in-and-out movement which usually accompanies a man's cumming, she says she can really feel and enjoy the ejaculation. Yes, she tells me, she can feel him ejaculating - actually squirting his semen - into her! Sally acknowledged my presence only twice the whole time. The first time was while he was fucking her. As he pushed inside her, she held her left hand up in the air, turned it back and forth, and wiggled her ring finger. The message was clear: "I'm having a WONDERFUL time here, and I don't need (or even want) my husband to be involved!" The second time was when they finished, and were lying together, kissing and talking softly. Sally moved her legs toward the side of the bed, spread them, and pointed to her pussy. Without a word, I sat on the floor next to the bed and gently licked her pussy. There was not much of his cum there, as he had cum twice and had used whatever had been there for lubrication, but there was no question that the smell and the taste were those of my wife's body mixed with the gift from his body. I licked up and down her pussy, until she swung her leg back toward Ty, and motioned for me to return to my chair. A little while later, they both arose. Sally walked around, gathering up her clothing but not putting any of it on, as they continued to talk. In spite of everything I had just seen, I was shocked by how comfortable she was, standing there naked in front of this man; she later said she hadn't even given it a second thought! Finally she dressed, took her ring back from me, and we went downstairs. They said goodbye, and we drove home. Sally was quiet - tired, well-fucked and happy. When we got home, she said she didn't want to have me inside her - she was a little sore, but more important, she just wanted to enjoy the feelings he left with her. With that she gave me a kiss (no tongue, just a "polite" kiss), rolled over, and went to sleep. I masturbated twice before I was able to calm down enough to sleep, because I wondered what had changed. I knew something had changed... THE DAY AFTER The next night, we laid together in bed, discussing our feelings about the previous night. I told her, quite clearly, that it was tremendously exciting for me; she said it was for her, too.I asked her, tentatively, if she would think about giving me her wedding ring to keep. She asked what I would do with it, and I said I'd get a chain and wear it around my neck. She asked what it would mean if she gave me the ring permanently; I answered that it would mean I am her cuckold - for real, all the time, and not just as a pre-date game. She didn't say anything for a while, and I was not going to push. After about a half hour of hugging and kissing, she said, "Okay, what exactly would it mean?" I said it would mean that we both accept that she would rather have sex with her lover than with me, because he is very good, and I'm - well, not very good. It would mean that even when she and I do have sex, we would both be aware that she was thinking about him, not me, and that we were both comfortable with that knowledge. It also meant that I would, basically, be her servant; since we would agree that I am not that great a lover, anything else I could do to please her would be expected of me as the price of keeping her and keeping her happy. She does like the way I make her cum with her vibrator, so I would be expected to help her with that any time she wished. And, I added, it would also mean that I would replace her plain-gold wedding ring with a new, diamond-studded one. "Let me get this straight," she said with a wicked grin. "Under this agreement, I get to keep my lover, I get to have you make me cum anytime I want, I get you as my servant around the clock, and I get a new wedding ring. And all I have to do in return is tell you the truth about how I feel about Ty?" "Basically, yes," I answered. She turned around in the bed, looking straight at me. She lifted her left hand, and began to work her wedding ring off her finger. As she did, she said, "He is SO much better than you. He makes me feel wonderful, and sexy, and smart, and attractive and exciting. He makes love to me with passion and with a feeling of urgency, and he moulds himself to my body. You're stiff, he's smooth. You cum quickly, he takes time and makes it a work of art. If I were the teacher grading both of you, he would get an A+. You're a.... let's see... a C+." With that, the ring popped off her finger, and she handed it to me. "Now, make me cum, cuckold. I want to go to sleep soon." I did as she instructed, once again holding her wedding ring on my little finger, so I did not lose it. She came very hard, and as she shook with the after-effects of her orgasm, she said it felt nice to think about him without worrying at all about my feelings. During the next three weeks (it was four weeks to their next date), I often made her cum, then I masturbated after she fell asleep. A few times we made love; each time, she made it very clear that she was doing me a favor, and that I wasn't doing much of anything for her. Sometimes, right in the middle of sex, she'd say, "God, I miss him." Then she got to laugh as I came like Pavlov's dog. When the one-week mark arrived, we began to prepare in earnest. I fully expected to be told not to cum; I even knew that it would not be long before she told me I could no longer see her undressed. What I did not expect was her instruction to go out and buy a sleep-mask; you know, that thing people wear on airplanes, to try to block out the light so they can nap. Sally explained that there was no reason why I should be allowed to see her undressed during her date; if she was "his" beforehand, she was even more his while she shared his bed! All week long, I thought about the coming night. He would see her - my wife - undress, and undressed, and spread open for him, while I would see... nothing at all. I tried to imagine what it would sound like, but all I kept coming up with was the feeling that my wife had, once again, drawn closer to her lover and in doing so, had drawn me further into my role as her cuckold. At times I wanted to cry, but I never stopped getting excited about it. The day before their date, she got her period. We knew we had been cutting it kind of close, but it came a few days early. She worried that Ty wouldn't want to see her if it meant no sex, so she had me email him with the news - and with the suggestion that she could still find "something to make him happy." He wrote back to her that she was silly to think he didn't want to see her anyway, and he looked forward to a nice evening with her. He said it just right; she relaxed and began to get into it again. I drove us to his house, and she had me go to the door to get him. When I returned, she was in the driver's seat, and she motioned for him to come into the front passenger seat. I, obviously, was relegated to the back! We had a wonderful dinner, and returned to his house; I drove this time, as both of them had been drinking a little. Sitting on the couch in his living room, they talked some more then began kissing. Sally moved to the floor between his legs, and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang out, and I watched her caress it with her hand and gently kiss its head. Then she turned to me and said, "Cover your eyes." She had left the sleep mask in the car, so I simply closed my eyes and covered them with my hand. I heard kissing noises, and had no way of telling what part of him she was kissing; it was frustrating as hell, and amazingly exciting! Then I heard them move around, and Ty said, "Let's go upstairs." Sally agreed, and as they walked to the stairs, she told me to get the sleep mask and meet them in his bedroom. I nearly killed myself running to the car in the dark, and by the time I made it to the bedroom, Sally's shirt and bra were on the floor. I caught a brief glimpse of her breasts - the first look in a week - before she told me to sit down and put on my blindfold. Her exact words were, "Now, put on your blindfold, little boy; the grownups are going to play now, and you really shouldn't be watching." Blindfolded, I realized the truth in what everyone says: when one sense is taken away, the others are heightened. I heard everything - his pants being pulled off, her mouth opening to take him in, the sounds of her kissing and licking him, the sounds of them tongue-kissing... and the sounds of pleasure which came from my wife's lover as she kissed him, sucked him, licked him and touched him in every way she knew to please him. After what seemed like an eternity - it was nearly an hour - I heard that sound. I guess every man has a certain basic sound he makes when he cums, and by now I think I know Ty's as well as my own. Blindfolded, the sound hit me like a brick: that man, with whom we had just had such a nice, dignified dinner, was cumming for my wife! I didn't know exactly what she was doing to him, but I knew without a doubt what he was feeling. The sounds echoed through my head - and still do. They followed this with some small (and quiet) talk, then I heard the sounds of Sally dressing. When she was dressed, she told me to take off the mask and help her pick up her things. She excused herself to go to the bathroom, and as I found her coat, her pocketbook, etc., Ty got up, still nude. He walked around the room looking for his pants, and his limp-but-still-potent-looking penis swung back and forth in front of me, as if he was taunting me. That one, not mine, was the one she wanted... We went downstairs, and I waited outside while they kissed goodbye. In the car on the way home, Sally talked about how good he felt - how much he loved her breasts, and how he reached to undo her bra the minute she went down on him in the living room. She told me that in bed, he got on top of her and tit-fucked her, which turned him (and her) on tremendously. She said that at one point, he got close to cumming and stopped himself; when she asked him why he stopped, he said, "I've been looking forward to seeing you for a long time, and I don't want it to end." She loved hearing that! And when he finally came, she said, he tasted delicious. Yes, he had cum in her mouth! She also said that he kept trying to get in her pants, which she just was not comfortable with, especially on the first day of her period. He contented himself with reaching into her pants and carressing her ass cheeks while she went down on him, but she said it made her realize even more how much she longed to have him inside her. "Tonight was really nice," she said, "but I just don't feel as satisfied as I do when we've made love. You understand, don't you?" Of course I did, I said. "Good," she continued with that smile again. "Then you won't mind if we just continue our preparations until our next date in three weeks, will you?" My heart sank, and my cock rose. "What do you mean?" I asked tentatively. "I mean, I still want him, not you. I'm going to spend the next three weeks thinking about having him inside me, and having sex with you would just get in the way of those wonderful thoughts. So, let's keep doing what we have been doing until after the date, okay?" Trying not to drive off the road, I croaked out, "Okay." It has now been a week since that date. It has been two weeks since I've seen my wife wearing anything less than full clothing (except for that brief and wonderful glimpse in Ty's bedroom), and it will be two weeks more before I can. It has been two weeks since I've been inside her, and it will be two weeks more before I can do that, too. Now that her period is over, I've helped her to cum several times - each time wearing the blindfold, so I can suck on her nipple without seeing something which would be inappropriate for me. I am allowed to cum, but only when I ask - and she gives - her permission. I am living at a level of sexual tension which I haven't felt since high school. I wake up hard, and when I go to bed and wrap my arms around her, I am careful to be sure that I don't touch any part of her which she is saving for Ty. So I go to sleep hard, too. She glows with happiness and mischief, and I have never seen her so radiantly beautiful. I am the luckiest man alive. Or, perhaps Ty is; in that case, I'm very happy to be Number Two. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 06 "It's Not For You Author's note: It never ceases to amaze me that people read stories online that are entitled "Cuckold," and then get upset (and offensive!) that the stories are about the excitement of having an unfaithful wife. If such a story disturbs you, you can stop reading now. Otherwise, you might be... disturbed. Also, if you are looking for graphic descriptions of hot sex, you won't find them here. Read on to learn why. Cuckold Paul ************************************ My wife, Sally, and her longtime lover, Ted, re-established their affair last year. What with life, schedules and such, they only get to see each other about once every two months, so when the Big Day approaches, everyone gets excited. On their last date, I was required to be at work in the late morning and again at night, so they got to be truly alone together for the first time. They had a great time, and were even kind enough to call me from their hotel bed. I had gone home after my first appointment and was masturbating, wondering what they were doing, when Sally called to tell me they had made love and were going to do it again. Then Ted got on the phone and told me how wonderful my wife looked, lying in bed naked with him. To sum it up, a good time was had by all, and Ted and Sally realized they MUCH preferred being alone together, without me watching (as I did when they began) or listening at the door (as I did last year). They both said they hated the thought that they were "performing" for me, and the time alone was much more intimate and much more passionate. Afterward, they each talked to me about what they had done, and told me everything I had missed, which was tremendously exciting for me. Ted has an amazing way of never laughing at me while he tells me all about cuckolding me; it's like he's sharing a wonderful experience with a friend. That makes it a great conversation, and I have the awesome experience of remembering from time to time, "That's MY WIFE he's talking about!" But there ere were two things which made Sally uncomfortable about that date: the long drive she had to make by herself to meet Ted – nearly an hour and a half each way - and that he knows a number of people in the area where they met, so during lunch they had to look as businesslike as possible. This was not easy for either of them, as they kept thinking about the bed that awaited them. So when plans for today's date were made, Sally asked if I would be willing to drive with her, have lunch with them, and then leave them alone when they went to bed together. I realized from the outset that it would not be the easiest thing to do, but of course I agreed. I asked only that Sally help me get ready for the experience, too, and she agreed. Five days before their date Sally began to prepare, and to prepare me. She said I was no longer allowed to see her undressed or have any kind of sex with her; she was saving herself for Ted. Every time I tried to peek she'd jump to cover herself, saying, "It's not for you." The only exceptions she made were the two times I helped her to cum, which we did in complete darkness so I could not see her, and as soon as she was satisfied, she pulled the covers back up told me to go jerk off if I wanted. At night she would undress in the bathroom, and she replaced her silk negligee with long, flannel pajamas. As her date approached, she skipped our long-time rituals of me helping her to shave her legs and prepare her breasts and her pussy; she never said a word about it – she just did it all on her own. She did let me do her toenails, but made sure her legs (and pussy) were covered while I did them. Only once, when I was about halfway done, did she say anything about what I was doing it for: without any buildup she said, "I'm really looking forward to seeing him." Knowing that I was preparing her toes to wrap around him during sex, I nearly polished a racing stripe up her foot! Two days before their date we went to Victoria's Secret, where she asked my advice on choosing a new bra and panties. Not that she needed them, but we both enjoyed the thought that we were choosing new underwear for Ted to see, and to remove. When we got them home I asked to see them and she said "Sure," but all she did was take them out of the bag and hold them up. "Could I please see how they look on you?" I asked. "No, you can't. They're not for you," was her self-satisfied response. As she instructed, I reserved a hotel suite with a bedroom for them and a living room for me. And she had me go to her office and pick up her "white noise" machine. She said the thought that I might be "lurking" (her word) outside the bedroom door was "creepy" (also her word), and she wanted to make sure I could not hear anything while they were making love. Interesting – that was the first time she ever referred to what they did as "making love," and I asked her if that was the proper way to describe it. She thought for a minute, and said yes. I chatted with Ted online several times during the week. He was pleased to hear the part about "making love." He was also blunt and not at all shy about telling me how much he was looking forward to his date with my wife. He told me in great detail WHAT he was looking forward to, and I kept wondering what the proper, polite response is when a man tells you that your wife's nipples are delicious, and he can't wait to suck on them. When I figure out the ave way to answer, I'll let everyone know; all I could do was cringe a little and masturbate while he described his plans. He LOVED hearing that my wife was saving her body for him, and that she told me it was not for me. Ted said he would meet us at 1 p.m., and we planned accordingly. Then, that morning, he emailed me and said he could arrive by 12:30. That's when I realized how serious HE was about his date with Sally. Of course, Sally dressed in private. When she was ready, she asked me how she looked. I did not know how to answer that, either. She looked beautiful, she looked sexy, but she was not asking me that. She was asking me how she looked FOR TED. "Absolutely great," I stuttered, and we set off. We listened to the radio, made a few phone calls, and talked about nothing important on the way. Every few minutes I looked over at her and thought about she was going to do, and the fact that I was driving her. I haven't told her how exciting that was – she'll learn about it when she reads this story. Just before we arrived, she said, "Thank you very much for driving me," as calmly as if I had given her a ride to the park. I told her she was welcome, and that I hoped she had a very good time with him, and I tried to give her a kiss. She instinctively turned her mouth away from me, as any woman does when she is avoiding a man's unwanted advance. "It's not for you," she said, and got out of the car to greet him. Lunch was nice, but strange for me. No sex talk, just conversation between three friends. But Sally made sure Ted sat to her left, so he could see that she had opened one button too many on her shirt. I couldn't see anything, but I could tell exactly when her shirt fell open: Ted's eyes were immediately drawn downward, and I saw him ogling my wife's chest. That itself was not so odd, but the realization that he was enjoying a peek of what my wife would give him after lunch made it difficult for me to swallow my food. When we (actually, they) finished eating we went to the hotel room together. Once inside, they sat on the couch in the living room. They sat close together, cuddling while they continued to talk about work, life and everything else. From time to time they kissed, and I could see them gently touching each other's leg. I realized that no one would think twice about this picture of a loving couple, sitting and talking together, except that Sally is married to ME, and I was sitting in a chair across from that loving couple. They talked for about ten minutes, then Ted said, "Well, I've had enough of this. I want to take you inside." We had talked about what would happen next, but still, it took me by surprise. Sally, still sitting on the couch, turned to face me for the first time. She said, "Ted and I are going to bed now, and we want to be alone together. I really don't want you listening at the door, so please stay here on this couch while we make love, okay?" I nodded dumbly as Ted took Sally's hand, and led her to the bedroom. Just one pause along their way, as Sally bent over and turned on the "white noise" machine sitting in the hallway outside the bedroom door. Then I heard the door close, and I was left alone. Less than a minute later, Ted called me from the other room and said they needed my help. All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind: had they decided to let me watch? Or did they at least want me to "help" by undressing Sally before they had sex? I ran into the bedroom, and saw the two of them standing with their arms around each other. Both were fully dressed, except almost all the buttons on Sally's shirt were open (Ted LOVES my wife's breasts, and they have both told me that he dives for them the minute they are alone). There is no way for a cuckold husband to be cool in such a situation, but I tried to be at least coherent. I asked what I could do to help them. With a slightly evil smile, Ted said, "We'd like you to pull down the covers, and make the bed nice for us." That was it? No sex, no undressing? My heart sank, but what could I do? I removed the bedspread, then pulled down the sheet and blanket, folding them neatly near the foot of the bed while the lovers looked on. Sally told me to keep the covers where she could reach them, because "I get cold without my clothes on." Without any time to consider the immense sexual significance of opening the bed for my wife and her lover, or of her statement that she would soon be naked, Ted said, "Thank you, now please leave," and I did. To my own surprise, I made sure their bedroom door was tightly closed behind me, and I returned to my place on the couch. I'd love to give you all the details of what they did during the next two and a half hours, but I have no idea. I'll be honest: several times I left my assigned place on the couch and tiptoed over to the bedroom door. I strained to hear something – anything – from the other side, but all I could hear was the damn noise machine. Later, I asked Sally if they had been particularly quiet making love. She gave me a very surprised look and said, "No, not at ALL." When I told her I didn't hear a thing, she was genuinely pleased. Denial is a powerful emotion, and I felt all of it. Not just the physical denial of my wife saving her body for Ted, but a strange, psychological denial, too. For a full hour, I actually convinced myself that there was a chance they weren't doing anything sexual at all behind that door. After all, I hadn't seen them undress, I hadn't heard a sound: maybe they just decided to sit and talk? And maybe – just maybe – when they really started to do something, they would call to me again and let me watch? Oh, sure, I pulled down my pants and masturbated. What else could I do to pass the time? But I found that as excited as I was, I could not get close to cumming. I didn't actually want to cum – I never do while Sally's on a date, because it helps to be very, very horny when dealing with the overwhelming emotions of being cuckolded. But I couldn't even get close, because there was that nagging suspicion – or maybe it was a hope – that they would decide to include me. They KNEW I was right outside, and I knew they hadn't forgotten I was there. Maybe... One hour after my wife and her lover entered their bedroom, my comfortable little denial-world caved in. I heard the doorknob turn, and I thought, "This is it!" and my cock sprang to attention. Sally came out of the bedroom, completely naked. She crossed the short distance in front of the sink, went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I couldn't believe my eyes – literally. I had caught a momentary glimpse of her breasts, her ass, and all the skin of her body. She was naked, and she had just come out of the bedroom - the room where I had seen Ted standing with her. Yes, I know it's stupid to have thought that they were only sitting and talking, but it was not until that moment that the sledgehammer of reality came down on my head, and I knew – KNEW – that my wife had been fucking her lover in their bedroom. I wanted to meet her at the door when she came out of the bathroom, but I decided to show her I was doing what she asked, so I stayed on the couch. I couldn't wait for her to come over and tell me what they had been doing, and what they were going to do next! When she came out of the bathroom, she washed her hands at the sink. I could see her perfectly from behind: her head, her naked back, her ass leading down to her slightly-parted legs, all the way down to her bare feet. I sat patiently, quietly staring at her and masturbating while she washed and dried her hands. When she put down the towel, she turned and went back into the bedroom without so much as a glance in my direction. I heard the door click shut behind her, I realized she was not going to share anything with me. Nothing. Not a word. I came. Hard. I tried to stop it, because I was overwhelmed with pain and humiliation and I knew as soon as I was done cumming, it would be a lot more difficult to cope with my feelings, but there was no stopping it. After an hour of waiting, after having nearly convinced myself that my wife and that man were just sitting on the bed and chatting, after thinking they would invite me in, after expecting my wife at least to come tell me what they were doing, I was alone with nothing but my own penis, impotently squirting cum all over my hand. As Sally was sliding back into Ted's arms, I sat on the living room couch wishing I could take back the orgasm I was havinf and wishing I could take back my offer to drive her to her date. But it was too late for both. Later, I asked Sally if she had thought about talking with me when she went to the bathroom. She looked puzzled and said, "No. Why would I? I didn't come out to give you a show, and I couldn't wait to get back to Ted." Even though she would not tell me that until later, I knew it then; there was nothing phony about her actions or her body language. She had to go to the bathroom, and that was the only thing interrupting her time with her lover. After I cleaned up, I sat there on the couch wondering what to do now. Now that I knew they had made love, I knew they would do it again. But the excitement was gone, and my cock hung limp between my legs. I tried to get hard again, imagining all kinds of exciting images of them fucking, but it didn't work. The combination of reality and cumming left me empty, physically and mentally. I actually read the newspaper for a while, but found that to be more humiliating than sitting there doing nothing. Real chauffeurs read the paper while waiting to drive their passengers home; I couldn't bring myself to admit that I was nothing but a driver for my wife that day. I tried listening at the door again, with the same result as before. I tried using X-ray vision as I stared at the wall separating me from the lovers, but to say I'm no Superman would be stating the obvious. A few times I got semi-hard but just could not sustain my erection, and I cursed the damn orgasm that left me feeling that way even as I realized it had been such an erotic experience to have my wife act the way she did. I didn't even realize another hour had gone by until I heard the door open again. This time it was Ted, and he was as naked as my wife. He, too, went directly to the bathroom, and again, I was struck by the reality of it all: not only had he made love to my wife, he didn't even bother to cover himself when he walked by me. He had taken her, he had been intimate with her, he had made love to her, and he was completely comfortable walking by me in his birthday suit! When he emerged from the bathroom, the earlier scene repeated itself. He stood at the sink and washed his hands while I stared at the back of the man who had fucked my wife. When he was done he turned to go back to the bedroom, and I saw his penis sticking out between his legs. He was not hard at all, and I knew it was because my wife had satisfied him. I saw him for only a few seconds, yet what I saw spoke volumes: he made love to my wife. He fucked my wife. He came in my wife. Now he was satisfied, and he was soft; that's what happens when lovers go to bed together. He closed the bedroom door behind him, and I no longer had trouble getting excited. I masturbated as hard as I could, thinking about the one minute of sexual stimulation they had given me in the past two hours, and realizing that they only gave it to me because I was able to see the hallway and the sink from where I sat. I remembered what Sally had told me all week: "It's not for you." And I understood that she really meant it. And so did Ted. Half an hour later – two hours and thirty minutes after they closed the bedroom door – Ted came out, dressed. The last time I was with them (when I sat and listened at the door while they made love) he talked with me for about five minutes on his way out, giving me some of the highlights of their lovemaking. It hadn't been easy for me, sitting there masturbating while this fully-dressed man told me about fucking my wife, but hey – it was exciting as hell. I was hoping he would do the same this time, and I had already swallowed my pride about jerking off in front of him. But things were different this time and I should have realized it. He looked at me, laughed quietly, and said, "Gotta go. Drive home safely," and he left. I slowly went to the bedroom door and knocked. My wife said I could come in. She looked so beautiful, lying there in bed covered only with a sheet. I kissed her gently on the cheek, then tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned away – again. I laid down beside her and she said, "I had a WONDERFUL time. We made love twice, and he made me cum once." I asked her to tell me about it, but she said, "Maybe later." When she moved, her left breast came out from under the sheet, and I stared at it. When she saw what I was looking at she said, "I will tell you that he spent a LOT of time resting his head on my tits and playing with them," and with that, she pulled the sheet up to cover herself. On the drive home, we talked about the whole experience. I told her it hurt, and it was harder to handle than I had expected, but I was excited by it. She said that she was excited by it, too – and liked it a lot. She liked the way he made her feel, and liked the way I helped her to be with him. She said she wants it to continue – not just her affair, but also my role as chauffeur and lunch companion, and also the way we acknowledge Ted's place in her life. We agreed that at least until her next date in a month or two, she will continue saving herself for him the way she did before their date. I can help her cum when she wants, and I can even make love to her IF she wants, but I cannot see her naked anymore; that is just for him. If we make love, it will be in the dark; if I help her cum, it will be with a blindfold. Today, we went out to the mall and bought her two pairs of pajamas for her; they are very comfortable, not at all sexy, and they cover her completely. We came home and she went into the bathroom to change into them. When I tried to peek at her while she changed she shut the door and said, "It's not for you anymore; it's only for him." As we sat and cuddled all evening she told me that saving herself for him is a great idea: it makes her conscious of her relationship with me and of her relationship with Ted all the time. As for me, every time I see her all covered up, the overwhelming sensations of staring at a hotel wall and listening to white noise flood back over me. I'm hard most of the day, and all of the night. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 06 She is SUCH an exciting woman. I know it, and so does Ted. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 07 "IT'S NOT FOR YOU" Author's note: It never ceases to amaze me that people read stories online that are entitled "Cuckold," and then get upset (and offensive!) that the stories are about the excitement of having an unfaithful wife. If such a story disturbs you, you can stop reading now. Otherwise, you might be... disturbed. Also, if you are looking for graphic descriptions of hot sex, you won't find them here. Read on to learn why. Cuckold Paul My wife, Sally, and her longtime lover, Ted, re-established their affair last year. What with life, schedules and such, they only get to see each other about once every two months, so when the Big Day approaches, everyone gets excited. On their last date, I was required to be at work in the late morning and again at night, so they got to be truly alone together for the first time. They had a great time, and were even kind enough to call me from their hotel bed. I had gone home after my first appointment and was masturbating, wondering what they were doing, when Sally called to tell me they had made love and were going to do it again. Then Ted got on the phone and told me how wonderful my wife looked, lying in bed naked with him. To sum it up, a good time was had by all, and Ted and Sally realized they MUCH preferred being alone together, without me watching (as I did when they began) or listening at the door (as I did last year). They both said they hated the thought that they were "performing" for me, and the time alone was much more intimate and much more passionate. Afterward, they each talked to me about what they had done, and told me everything I had missed, which was tremendously exciting for me. Ted has an amazing way of never laughing at me while he tells me all about cuckolding me; it's like he's sharing a wonderful experience with a friend. That makes it a great conversation, and I have the awesome experience of remembering from time to time, "That's MY WIFE he's talking about!" There were only two things which made Sally uncomfortable about that date. The first was the long drive she had to make by herself to meet Ted – nearly an hour and a half each way. The second was that he knows a number of people in the area where they met, and having lunch together they had to look as businesslike as possible. This was not easy for either of them, as they kept thinking about the bed that awaited them after their meal. So when plans for today's date were made, Sally asked if I would be willing to drive with her, have lunch with them, and then leave them alone while they spent a few hours in bed together. I realized from the outset that it would not be the easiest thing to do, but of course I agreed. I asked only that Sally help me get ready for the experience, too, and she was happy to oblige. Five days before their date, Sally began to prepare, and to prepare me. She said I was no longer allowed to see her undressed or have any kind of sex with her; she was saving herself for Ted. Every time I tried to peek she'd jump to cover herself, saying, "It's not for you." The only exceptions she made were the two times I helped her to cum, which we did in complete darkness so I could not see her, and as soon as she was satisfied, she pulled the covers back up told me to go jerk off if I wanted. At night she would undress in the bathroom, and she replaced her silk negligee with long, flannel pajamas. As her date approached, she also did away with our long-time rituals of me helping her to shave her legs and prepare her breasts and her pussy; she never said a word about it – she just did it all on her own. She did let me do her toenails, but made sure her legs (and pussy) were covered while I did them. Only once, when I was about halfway done, did she say anything about what I was doing it for: without any buildup she said, "I'm really looking forward to seeing him." Knowing that I was preparing her toes to wrap around him during sex, I nearly polished a racing stripe up her foot! Two days before their date we made a shopping trip to Victoria's Secret, where she asked my advice on choosing a new bra and panties. Not that she needed them, but we both enjoyed the thought that we were choosing new underwear for Ted to see, and to remove. When we got them home I asked to see them and she said "Sure," but all she did was take them out of the bag and hold them up. "Could I please see how they look on you?" I asked. "No, you can't. They're not for you," was her self-satisfied response. As she instructed, I reserved a hotel suite with a bedroom for them and a living room for me. And Sally had me go to her office and pick up her "white noise" machine. She said the thought that I might be "lurking" (her word) outside the bedroom door was "creepy" (also her word), and she wanted to make sure I could not hear anything while they were making love. Interesting – that was the first time she ever referred to what they did as "making love," and I asked her if that was the proper way to describe it. She thought for a minute, and said yes. I chatted with Ted online several times during the week. He was pleased to hear the part about "making love." He was also blunt and not at all shy about telling me how much he was looking forward to his date with my wife. He told me in great detail WHAT he was looking forward to, and I kept wondering what the proper, polite response is when a man tells you that your wife's nipples are delicious, and he can't wait to suck on them. When I figure out the right way to answer, I'll let everyone know; all I could do was cringe a little and masturbate while he described his plans. He LOVED hearing that my wife was saving her body for him, and that she told me it was not for me. Ted said he would meet us at 1 p.m., and we planned accordingly. Then, that morning, he emailed me and said he could arrive by 12:30. That's when I realized how serious HE was about his date with Sally. Of course, Sally dressed in private. When she was ready, she asked me how she looked. I did not know how to answer that, either. She looked beautiful, she looked sexy, but she was not asking me that. She was asking me how she looked FOR TED. "Absolutely great," I stuttered, and we set off. We listened to the radio, made a few phone calls, and talked about nothing important on the way. Every few minutes I looked over at her and thought about what she was going to do, and the fact that I was driving her. I haven't told her how exciting that was – she'll learn about it when she reads this story. Just before we arrived, she said, "Thank you very much for driving me," as calmly as if I had given her a ride to the park. I told her she was welcome, and that I hoped she had a very good time with him, and I tried to give her a kiss. She instinctively turned her mouth away from me, as any woman does when she is avoiding a man's unwanted advance. "It's not for you," she said, and got out of the car to greet him. Lunch was nice, but strange for me. No sex talk, just conversation between three friends. But Sally made sure Ted sat to her left, so he could see that she had opened one button too many on her shirt. I couldn't see anything, but I could tell exactly when her shirt fell open: Ted's eyes were immediately drawn downward, and I saw him ogling my wife's chest. That itself was not so odd, but the realization that he was enjoying a peek of what my wife would give him after lunch made it difficult for me to swallow my food. When we (actually, they) finished eating we went to the hotel room together. Once inside, they sat on the couch in the living room. They sat close together, cuddling while they continued to talk about work, life and everything else. From time to time they kissed, and I could see them gently touching each other's leg. I realized that no one would think twice about this picture of a loving couple, sitting and talking together, except that Sally is married to ME, and I was sitting in a chair across from that loving couple. They talked for about ten minutes, then Ted said, "Well, I've had enough of this. I want to take you inside." We had talked about what would happen next, but still, it took me by surprise. Sally, still sitting on the couch, turned to face me for the first time. She said, "Ted and I are going to bed now, and we want to be alone together. I really don't want you listening at the door, so please stay here on this couch while we make love, okay?" I nodded dumbly as Ted took Sally's hand, and led her to the bedroom. Just one pause along their way, as Sally bent over and turned on the "white noise" machine sitting in the hallway outside the bedroom door. Then I heard the door close, and I was left alone. Less than a minute later, Ted called me from the other room and said they needed my help. All kinds of thoughts raced through my mind: had they decided to let me watch? Or did they at least want me to "help" by undressing Sally before they had sex? I ran into the bedroom, and saw the two of them standing with their arms around each other. Both were fully dressed, except almost all the buttons on Sally's shirt were open (Ted LOVES my wife's breasts, and they have both told me that he dives for them the minute they are alone). There is no way for a cuckold husband to be cool in such a situation, but I tried to be at least coherent. I asked what I could do to help them. With a slightly evil smile, Ted said, "We'd like you to pull down the covers, and make the bed nice for us." That was it? No sex, no undressing? My heart sank, but what could I do? I removed the bedspread, then pulled down the sheet and blanket, folding them neatly near the foot of the bed while the lovers looked on. Sally told me to keep the covers where she could reach them, because "I get cold without my clothes on." Without any time to consider the immense sexual significance of opening the bed for my wife and her lover, or of her statement that she would soon be naked, Ted said, "Thank you, now please leave," and I did. To my own surprise, I made sure their bedroom door was tightly closed behind me, and I returned to my place on the couch. I'd love to give you all the details of what they did during the next two and a half hours, but I have no idea. I'll be honest: several times I left my assigned place on the couch and tiptoed over to the bedroom door. I strained to hear something – anything – from the other side, but all I could hear was the damn noise machine. Later, I asked Sally if they had been particularly quiet making love. She gave me a very surprised look and said, "No, not at ALL." When I told her I didn't hear a thing, she was genuinely pleased. Denial is a powerful emotion, and I felt all of it. Not just the physical denial of my wife saving her body for Ted, but a strange, psychological denial, too. For a full hour, I actually convinced myself that there was a chance they weren't doing anything sexual at all behind that door. After all, I hadn't seen them undress, I hadn't heard a sound: maybe they just decided to sit and talk? And maybe – just maybe – when they really started to do something, they would call to me again and let me watch? Oh, sure, I pulled down my pants and masturbated. What else could I do to pass the time? But I found that as excited as I was, I could not get close to cumming. I didn't actually want to cum – I never do while Sally's on a date, because it helps to be very, very horny when dealing with the overwhelming emotions of being cuckolded. But I couldn't even get close, because there was that nagging suspicion – or maybe it was a hope – that they would decide to include me. They KNEW I was right outside, and I knew they hadn't forgotten I was there. Maybe... One hour after my wife and her lover entered their bedroom, my comfortable little denial-world caved in. I heard the doorknob turn, and I thought, "This is it!" and my cock sprang to attention. Sally came out of the bedroom, completely naked. She crossed the short distance in front of the sink, went into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I couldn't believe my eyes – literally. I had caught a momentary glimpse of her breasts, her ass, and all the skin of her body. She was naked, and she had just come out of the bedroom - the room where I had seen Ted standing with her. Yes, I know it's stupid to have thought that they were only sitting and talking, but it was not until that moment that the sledgehammer of reality came down on my head, and I knew – KNEW – that my wife had been fucking her lover in their bedroom. I wanted to meet her at the door when she came out of the bathroom, but I decided to show her I was doing what she asked, so I stayed on the couch. I couldn't wait for her to come over and tell me what they had been doing, and what they were going to do next! When she came out of the bathroom, she washed her hands at the sink. I could see her perfectly from behind: her head, her naked back, her ass leading down to her slightly-parted legs, all the way down to her bare feet. I sat patiently, quietly staring at her and masturbating while she washed and dried her hands. When she put down the towel, she turned and went back into the bedroom without so much as a glance in my direction. I heard the door click shut behind her, I realized she was not going to share anything with me. Nothing. Not a word. I came. Hard. I tried to stop it, because I was overwhelmed with pain and humiliation and I knew as soon as I was done cumming, it would be a lot more difficult to cope with my feelings, but there was no stopping it. After an hour of waiting, after having nearly convinced myself that my wife and that man were just sitting on the bed and chatting, after thinking they would invite me in, after expecting my wife at least to come tell me what they were doing, I was alone with nothing but my own penis, impotently squirting cum all over my hand. As Sally was sliding back into Ted's arms, I sat on the living room couch wishing I could take back the orgasm I was having and wishing I could take back my offer to drive her to her date. But it was too late for both. Later, I asked Sally if she had thought about talking with me when she went to the bathroom. She looked puzzled and said, "No. Why would I? I didn't come out to give you a show, and I couldn't wait to get back to Ted." Even though she would not tell me that until later, I knew it then; there was nothing phony about her actions or her body language. She had to go to the bathroom, and that was the only thing interrupting her time with her lover. After I cleaned up, I sat there on the couch wondering what to do now. Now that I knew they had made love, I knew they would do it again. But the excitement was gone, and my cock hung limp between my legs. I tried to get hard again, imagining all kinds of exciting images of them fucking, but it didn't work. The combination of reality and cumming left me empty, physically and mentally. I actually read the newspaper for a while, but found that to be more humiliating than sitting there doing nothing. Real chauffeurs read the paper while waiting to drive their passengers home; I couldn't bring myself to admit that I was nothing but a driver for my wife that day. I tried listening at the door again, with the same result as before. I tried using X-ray vision as I stared at the wall separating me from the lovers, but to say I'm no Superman would be stating the obvious. A few times I got semi-hard but just could not sustain my erection, and I cursed the damn orgasm that left me feeling that way even as I realized it had been such an erotic experience to have my wife act the way she did. I didn't even realize another hour had gone by until I heard the door open again. This time it was Ted, and he was as naked as my wife. He, too, went directly to the bathroom, and again, I was struck by the reality of it all: not only had he made love to my wife, he didn't even bother to cover himself when he walked by me. He had taken her, he had been intimate with her, he had made love to her, and he was completely comfortable walking by me in his birthday suit! When he emerged from the bathroom, the earlier scene repeated itself. He stood at the sink and washed his hands while I stared at the back of the man who had fucked my wife. When he was done he turned to go back to the bedroom, and I saw his penis sticking out between his legs. He was not hard at all, and I knew it was because my wife had satisfied him. I saw him for only a few seconds, yet what I saw spoke volumes: he made love to my wife. He fucked my wife. He came in my wife. Now he was satisfied, and he was soft; that's what happens when lovers go to bed together. He closed the bedroom door behind him, and I no longer had trouble getting excited. I masturbated as hard as I could, thinking about the one minute of sexual stimulation they had given me in the past two hours, and realizing that they only gave it to me because I was able to see the hallway and the sink from where I sat. I remembered what Sally had told me all week: "It's not for you." And I understood that she really meant it. And so did Ted. Half an hour later – two hours and thirty minutes after they closed the bedroom door – Ted came out, dressed. The last time I was with them (when I sat and listened at the door while they made love) he talked with me for about five minutes on his way out, giving me some of the highlights of their lovemaking. It hadn't been easy for me, sitting there masturbating while this fully-dressed man told me about fucking my wife, but hey – it was exciting as hell. I was hoping he would do the same this time, and I had already swallowed my pride about jerking off in front of him. But things were different this time and I should have realized it. He looked at me, laughed quietly, and said, "Gotta go. Drive home safely," and he left. I slowly went to the bedroom door and knocked. My wife said I could come in. She looked so beautiful, lying there in bed covered only with a sheet. I kissed her gently on the cheek, then tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned away – again. I laid down beside her and she said, "I had a WONDERFUL time. We made love twice, and he made me cum once." I asked her to tell me about it, but she said, "Maybe later." When she moved, her left breast came out from under the sheet, and I stared at it. When she saw what I was looking at she said, "I will tell you that he spent a LOT of time resting his head on my tits and playing with them," and with that, she pulled the sheet up to cover herself. On the drive home, we talked about the whole experience. I told her it hurt, and it was harder to handle than I had expected, but I was excited by it. She said that she was excited by it, too – and liked it a lot. She liked the way he made her feel, and liked the way I helped her to be with him. She said she wants it to continue – not just her affair, but also my role as chauffeur and lunch companion, and also the way we acknowledge Ted's place in her life. We agreed that at least until her next date in a month or two, she will continue saving herself for him the way she did before their date. I can help her cum when she wants, and I can even make love to her IF she wants, but I cannot see her naked anymore; that is just for him. If we make love, it will be in the dark; if I help her cum, it will be with a blindfold. Today, we went out to the mall and bought her two pairs of pajamas for her; they are very comfortable, not at all sexy, and they cover her completely. We came home and she went into the bathroom to change into them. When I tried to peek at her while she changed she shut the door and said, "It's not for you anymore; it's only for him." As we sat and cuddled all evening she told me that saving herself for him is a great idea: it makes her conscious of her relationship with me and of her relationship with Ted all the time. As for me, every time I see her all covered up, the overwhelming sensations of staring at a hotel wall and listening to white noise flood back over me. I'm hard most of the day, and all of the night. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 07 She is SUCH an exciting woman. I know it, and so does Ted. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 08 Author's note: As my wife's relationship with her lover develops, we are working to find the right combination of arrangements that result in privacy, intimacy, a good time for the two of them and enough involvement for me that I don't get totally frustrated at being left out. We are getting better at it. Once again, I begin with a caveat: This story is about real-life cuckolding. If you are offended by the idea, or if reading this story will force you to write comments sharing your horror, please go look at dirty pictures or read a different story. Constructive, supportive or even critical comments are welcome. And if you write better stuff, please send me a copy so I can get off on it! Cuckold Paul ************** July 2006 It had been a long time since Sally and Ted were together. Soon after their last date in March, Ted had surgery which resulted in complications involving his prostate. It took him a long time to recuperate, and even longer to "get everything working." So when Sally and he arranged this date, he told her he could not promise how much he would be able to deliver in bed. Sally made it clear that she wanted to see him, and even if they just spent time cuddling and being close that was fine with her. Reassured by her words, he sent me an IM saying he was looking forward to seeing my wife again. It had been so long since their last date that his comment took me by surprise: I suddenly remembered that he was going to bed with my wife. I thanked him for saying that to me, and I realized how much I needed and enjoyed the little crumbs which he and Sally throw my way. A week before their date, Sally laid out the schedule for me: we would have sex until Wednesday (their date was the following Monday), then I would help her cum after that, but would not be allowed inside her. That's pretty much our usual practice, so it did not surprise me. What did surprise me was when she told me later the same day that she had just gotten her period, which would not end until... yes, Wednesday. "Oh well," she said casually, "you'll just have to wait for sex until after Ted and I are done." That whole week, my only sex was with my hand. Pictures of Sally and Ted taken long ago (back when I was allowed to watch them in bed together), an occasional IM from Ted; that and jerking off were all I had, and I remembered how lonely it is to be a cuckold. On Sunday, Sally showed me the outfit she chose for her date: black slacks, a beautiful purple and black shirt, and black bra and panties. When she told me of her plan to leave one button too many open during lunch, and showed me how it would look, I nearly came. She said if Ted was concerned about his "performance," the least she could do would be to provide him with some incentive, and she did; her cleavage would have raised the interest of a dead man. That night I masturbated with a frenzied focus: the image of her breasts pushing their way out of the top of her shirt and the top of her bra. I thanked her for showing me -- for tossing me another crumb. Of course, I was not allowed to see her naked the day of their date. She emerged from the bedroom looking radiant and ready. We drove the 75 miles to the hotel talking about normal things, and even someone in the car with us would have been unaware that I was driving my wife to meet her lover for the afternoon. I don't know what was on Sally's mind, but I kept thinking about how surreal it all was: a husband and wife driving together, talking together, going together to her date with another man. I was alternately hard and completely soft as the conflicting images and emotions vied for space in my brain. The image of normalcy continued as we checked into the hotel. We had a nice conversation with the desk clerk about the weather, his cold and the usual briefing on hotel amenities, while images of my beautiful wife taking her lover into her body flashed by. With no winter coat to hide my erection, I slinked away from the counter and headed to the elevator. In the room, I made the few required preparations: I placed Sally's pocket rocket (with new battery, of course) on the nightstand next to the bed, I set the "white noise" machine on the counter just outside the bedroom, and I placed a jar of Vaseline discretely in a drawer in the living room cabinet, where I could find it when I needed it later. We sat together on the living room couch and watched stupid TV for a while, until Ted called to say he was downstairs, ready to take us to lunch. Sally nearly jumped to her feet, and I did my best to keep up with her as she headed out of the room and toward the elevator. Just like that -- with one 30-second phone call -- we were not "we" anymore; we were Sally going to meet Ted, and me tagging along. Ted was in his car, waiting at the hotel entrance. Sally hopped into the front seat, giving him a quick kiss while I wedged myself into the back seat. At lunch it was clear that they were lovers and I was a friend: the waitress showed us to a table, and Ted asked if we could have a booth instead. When we got to the booth, he slid in beside her. The meal was strange for me, as it always is when they are together: normal food and normal conversation, but the food would not go down and the conversation did not register as I watched him put his arm around her, hold her hand, rest his hand on her leg, and spend way too much time looking at the flesh of her tits which was pushing out of the top of her too-open shirt. Nothing subtle about it: not only was he comfortable touching her, he was proud of it, too. I could see the struggle in Sally's eyes as she wavered between trying to throw me a few crumbs and trying to maintain her Good Girl image in public. I think her own preference would be for the three of us to sit like businesspeople and save every bit of "P.D.A." for the hotel room, but she was aware of my reaction to every touch, every stare. As far as I could tell, Ted did not share either concern; he was happy to be with "his girl," and he couldn't wait to get his hands on her. The result was that they didn't exactly make out during lunch, but they did enough to keep my entire meal stuck in my throat. Once back in the hotel, Sally's concerns vanished. She and Ted sat in the living room with me for a while, gently touching each other as we talked. Sally was the one to say, "Shall we go in the other room?" and Ted smiled and said, "Of course!" At that moment my heart sank and my cock shriveled up to nothing. The time had arrived, and my wife had brought it about. They arose, took each other's hand and walked away from me without a word or a glance. I heard the bedroom door click shut, and I was alone. There has been a lot of discussion among cuckolds about whether it is harder to watch or to wait. The question is really moot, because cuckolds seldom have a say. But I will tell you that sitting and talking with them and then having them leave to go to bed together is one of the most gut-wrenching things I can imagine. Being alone is hard enough, but being with them, and then suddenly alone, is an achingly lonely experience. I sat in the living room for about 10 minutes, listening to the soft words and noises emanating from the bedroom, when I realized Sally had not turned on the white noise machine when she went by it. My heart jumped -- I would get to listen to them! I was just about to pull down my pants when Ted called to me from behind the closed door. "Paul, come here please." I walked to the bedroom door... and knocked. What an asshole, I thought: knocking on the door so I don't disturb my wife in bed with her lover! But I waited before entering, until Ted told me to come in. They were throwing me a crumb. But oh, what a crumb! The lights were off, but daylight coming through the curtains illuminated the scene: my wife was lying in bed, wearing nothing but her black panties. Ted was naked, lying against her side. His right arm was under her head, and his left hand was caressing her breast -- her naked breast. As my eyes adjusted to the diminished light, I saw motion between their bodies and realized that Sally was stroking his penis. "Is the noise machine turned on?" Sally asked. "No," I replied quietly. "I thought not. Please turn it on, and please close the door." I nodded dumbly, but apparently I continued to stand there, staring, because Sally added (rather more forcefully than necessary), "NOW." I did as I was told. I closed the door on that incredibly sexy scene, turned on the noise machine to drown out the sound of their lovemaking, and returned to the living room couch. I took out the Vaseline and spent the next half-hour masturbating over all the images in my mind: Sally dressed for her date, Sally undressed for her lover; Ted dressed, Ted undressed; my wife and her lover holding hands, my wife and her lover holding each other's body; the damn wall between us, and the damn noise machine. Thirty minutes of excitement and sex and shame and abandonment and loneliness and masturbating without cumming so the pain and humiliation would not overwhelm me. But gradually they did overwhelm me. As we hit the 45-minute mark (yes, I keep track of the time; what else do I have to do?) I found it difficult to stay focused and hard. I felt painfully alone -- not because Sally was making love with Ted, which I accept, but because there wasn't anything for me. The memory of his hand on her naked breast dimmed before the sight of the sterile hotel wall, and even the thought of them making love behind that door was drowned out by the "whoosh" of the white noise machine. I started to feel very sorry for myself, and wondered if this was a good idea after all. If anyone ever says cuckolding isn't painful, I would beg to differ. I don't know how they knew it, but they did. As if to say, "I want to keep doing this, so I will make sure you aren't too miserable about it," I heard Sally call out my name, telling me to come in again. I walked to the bedroom door, naked and with my cock slick with Vaseline, and opened it a little. I don't know why, but I kept it closed enough that I could hide my body behind it. Somehow it just didn't seem right to be naked in front of them, though I don't know if it was for my modesty or their comfort. In either case, I need not have worried; they could not have cared less what I was wearing or what I was doing. They were in almost the same position as before, but Sally's legs were spread wider and Ted was literally draped over her side with his head resting on her left breast, his mouth a fraction of an inch from her nipple. They both smiled at me and Sally said, "We just wanted you to know that Ted passed the test. Everything works fine." "Oh," I stuttered. "That's really great news. Congratulations." "Now leave us alone again. Bye." I closed the door as discretely as I could with trembling hands and weak legs. I stumbled back to the living room couch, nearly fell onto it, and grabbed my cock. I willed it back to life and was at the edge of cumming in 15 seconds. Yes, they had thrown me another crumb, and I was so grateful! They called me into their bedroom to tell me the good news that Ted was able to fuck and cum, and what was unsaid but clear was that he had just done it with my wife -- and IN my wife. Why on earth would they think I wanted to know that? Right. Because I DID want to know that. And I wanted to hear it from my wife's lips. I never knew I wanted to, but I did. I wanted to know that my wife had helped Ted over his fear that the surgery had taken away sex. I wanted to know that my wife turned him on, and got him hard, and took him inside, and made him cum. They would not let me watch or even listen, but they were kind enough to tell me it happened. It was just a crumb, a half a minute of their time, but hearing my wife say she cuckolded me and seeing her lover's smiling face resting on the flesh of her tit was enough. Gratitude and horniness took their place alongside loneliness and humiliation, and I masturbated until my whole body was shaking at the edge of orgasm. Some time later (I actually DID lose track of time after that experience), I heard the door open. Sally emerged and crossed the hallway to the bathroom, closing the bathroom door behind her. Only after she was out of sight did I realize that she was wearing her silk bathrobe, and a question crossed my mind: for whom was she wearing a bathrobe? I thought (and jerked off) about it for a few minutes until she emerged. When she did, she actually came over to me (another precious crumb, as last time she simply went back to bed without so much as a nod in my direction) and asked how I was doing. I told her the truth -- it had been difficult until they called me in to tell me the news -- and she smiled. "I thought you might enjoy that," she said. I thanked her for being so kind, and asked her if she was having a good time. "Wonderful, absolutely wonderful," she replied. I asked her about the robe -- was it for him, or for me? "It's for me. I didn't want to walk around naked. Have a nice time -- I'm going back to bed." Again, my head reeled. What did she mean, it was for her? She spent the afternoon naked in bed with her lover, and only put on the robe to go out "in public" -- out where I could see her. She wasn't comfortable letting ME see her, but it was fine to go back to him and take it off again. "Wonderful, absolutely wonderful," was how she described it. Only when I had digested as much of that thought as I could handle, did I realize that the "whoosh" was gone. She had turned off the noise machine, too! I was just about to get up to listen at their door when I heard it open again. Ted this time, and he, too, made his way to the bathroom. But he was naked -- stark naked. There may come a day when I can see a man walk out of my wife's bedroom naked and not want to cry, but it has not yet arrived. My stomach was in a knot as I stared at the bathroom door. His return trip was even more difficult for me. He emerged from the bathroom and stood at the sink, washing his hands. Hard enough staring at his ass, but as he turned to hang up the towel and walk back to the bedroom, I saw his cock sticking out from his body, semi-hard. Clearly, he was not done with my wife. His sex organ seemed to point the way for him: oblivious to my presence, focused on the pleasure awaiting him in bed -- in my wife -- it led him back to her. He closed their door behind him, and I quietly took a towel and placed it on the floor, right outside their bedroom. I sat on it in silence, and I waited. I did not have to wait long. Kissing noises. Then sucking noises. Deep moans of pleasure from Ted. Soft whispers. Rustling of sheets. Then "that sound" -- the surprised, pleased, absolutely feminine sound Sally makes when a cock enters her. Her gasps. His groans. The bed shaking, faster and faster. Not five minutes, and his noises rise to the sounds which men make when they cum. I knew they were not thinking of me at all, but it felt so good to be able to share their pleasure by listening to them. Dear wife and lover, thank you for the crumbs! Her vibrator begins to buzz, and the sounds coming through the door change. Soft words from Ted; I can't make out what he is saying, but Sally tells me that he always whispers words of encouragement and admiration, which she loves. I lean back against the wall, prepared to enjoy masturbating to her noises for the 15 minutes or so it takes her to cum. But she cums in two minutes. I thought I was mistaken -- maybe it was just a wave of good feeling, along the way to her orgasm? It was not. My wife cried out, and punctuating her cries were the sounds of the bed shaking from her convulsions. There is no sound in the world like that, but my excitement was once again commingled with a sick sensation: how could she possibly cum so fast? I know all her secrets, all the buttons to push, and it takes 20 minutes to bring her over the edge. TWO MINUTES had passed. What does he know about my wife that I don't know? What do they feel together that she does not feel with me? I could not answer. I could only stroke my penis, alone on the hallway floor, while my wife and her lover rested in each other's arms behind the bedroom door. I was not proud of how much I appreciated the crumbs they threw to me, but I did appreciate them. I heard them talking softly, gently. All the urgency of sex was gone from their voices, and I knew they were both satisfied. I returned to the couch and continued to jerk off, replaying the sounds which they were kind enough to let me hear. About a half-hour later, Ted emerged. He was dressed, ready to leave. I thought for a moment about putting on my own pants as he came into the living room, or at least covering myself with a towel, but I could not. This was my wife's lover -- no longer the guy we both had lunch with earlier, but the man who had just shared all of my wife's gifts, taken all that was supposed to be mine alone. I masturbated furiously as he dropped into the chair opposite me with a satisfied (self-satisfied) grin. "Sally is such a beautiful woman," he began. "Such a mind, such a body, such pleasure for both of us." "Please tell me about it," I begged. "Why don't you ask me questions, and I'll answer," he said casually, as if fucking another man's wife and then bragging about it was the most natural thing in the world. And yet, I knew he was doing this for me; a few crumbs for the cuckold, and I gobbled them up. "How many times were you inside her?" "Two, and they were WONDERFUL." (The same word she had used earlier!) "I really didn't know how it would go, but she just drew my orgasm out of me." "Both times?" "Yes," he smiled, "both times. It's good to know I still get the same pleasure from ejaculation. The second time I wanted it to last longer, but she was unstoppable. But we think alike: we were talking and she was doing marvelous things with her hand, then she started sucking me. She did that for a little while, and I said, 'I want to be inside you' just as she said, 'I want you inside me.'" I nodded, indicating that I was paying attention to his story. And I stroked myself faster and faster as I thought about what it felt like to hear my wife's lover revel in his pleasure and her desire for him. "How many times did she cum?" I cannot make these written words sound anything like my spoken words, as I was grunting, shaking and gasping for breath as I masturbated in front of a very satisfied, very amused lover. "She came twice, too, and the second one was surprisingly quick. After the second time we fucked [the word tore through me like a knife] I said to her, 'I think you have another orgasm waiting to come out,' and she said, 'Yes, I do.' She picked up her vibe, I kissed her and played with her, and in less than two minutes she was doing her dance." "Doing her dance." Now, days later, that phrase continues to haunt me. Of course I knew what he meant; that's not the issue. But HE knew what he meant, and he knew I knew it, too. He and I -- the men who share Sally's bed -- both know what "her dance" looks like and feels like. He and I share her secrets. He and I share her body. She is ours. Sometimes mine, sometimes his. Today, she was his, and he told me so matter-of-factly how she "danced" in his arms. "It takes her 20 minutes to cum with me," I said. "Always. Never less than that." "Well, it wasn't TWO minutes today. I can't tell you why, but it's true." I decided not to tell him that I knew it was true, that I had listened at the door when it happened. Because it wasn't only true, it was true for him: he made her cum faster than I ever have, and he was enjoying the confession of her cuckold husband. "You can ask one more question, then I have to leave," he offered graciously. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 08 "What was it like to be inside my wife?" I grunted. I could see his eyes lift, as he thought back to the feeling. "She was so wet, it was like liquid sunshine. She's always wet for me [he watched me convulse as he said that, knowing full well that Sally is never wet enough for sex with me without lubricant], but today was something special. She was slippery-wet, and when I entered her she just drew me in. I couldn't get enough of her, but she was so excited that I came quickly. Just couldn't resist her charms." I was right at the edge of orgasm, and thinking back now I know I was a pitiful sight, naked and hard and jerking off and grunting and shaking and dripping cum off the tip of my penis. Ted smiled, arose and walked toward the door. "She said she wants to get together soon -- it was way too long this time, and I fully agree. She's probably sleeping now, so be quiet when you go in there. She worked hard, and deserves her rest." I promised my wife's lover that I would be quiet when I went in to see her in their bed, and I thanked him for taking such good care of her. "Oh, it was my pleasure. Thank you for sharing her. Bye." The door closed behind him and I sat there, shaking and jerking off. He was so comfortable with it all: comfortable taking my wife, comfortable walking back and forth in front of me completely nude, and even comfortable sitting and telling me what a great time he had with her while I masturbated in front of him. He never insulted me, never called me names, but no name-calling could equal the humiliation I felt during that conversation. Nevertheless, it was good of him to throw me those crumbs; I still felt ashamed, but I did not feel completely left out. Once I could stand up, I went quietly to the bedroom. Sally was asleep, facing away from me, the sheet pulled up to her neck. I went around to the far side of the bed where I could see her as she slept. Not wanting to disturb her by sitting on the bed, I laid a towel down on the night table and sat there. I looked at her face: the image of satisfaction, with a gentle smile across her lips. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes. She saw me sitting opposite her, stroking myself, and her smile grew. "That was really fun," she said. "I haven't ever been that wet before." I tried to respond, but only gasps came out as I jerked off, looking at her. She pulled the sheet down a little, exposing her breasts and nipples. She looked down at them and said, "He really likes these." Leaving her tits exposed she closed her eyes, and soon her breathing slowed and deepened; she was asleep. For the next hour I quietly masturbated as I looked at my happy, satisfied, sleeping wife and the breasts and nipples which her lover really likes. It may not be what every man dreams of, but I would not trade the crumbs they threw me for anything in the world. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 09 A CUCKOLD'S DIARY #9 A DOSE OF REALITY August 2006 Standard disclaimer: This, like all the chapters in "A Cuckold's Diary," is about my wife's date with her lover. It is factual, to the best of my ability to remember details after an incredibly erotic experience. If you think will be disturbed by the thought that my wife has a lover and I drive her to her dates, please feel free not to read further. I welcome comments and critiques, but please do not write and say you're offended by what I wrote, since I'm telling you in advance what to expect. Sincerely, (Cuckold) Paul Pines INTRODUCTION Thanks to the Fairfield Inn's amazingly cheap definition of a "suite," my wife Sally's last date with her lover, Ted, turned into a mind-blowing experience for me. And thanks to Ted's affection for her, Sally and I discovered a new and exciting dimension to her affair. LUNCH On their previous date, Sally was a little uncomfortable with Ted's "public display of affection" during lunch in a restaurant before they went to bed. Always the Good Girl, she was worried that she would run into someone she knew who would see her being felt up by another man. The fact that we were 80 miles from home, in a town where we don't know ANYONE, didn't matter; Good Girls don't do things like that! So before this date she asked him to save it for the bedroom, and he agreed. Lunch, therefore, was as casual, friendly and G-rated as it would have been with her mother. The only exceptions were that her low-cut blouse kept drawing Ted's eyes, and halfway through lunch she leaned close and whispered in his ear that she wasn't wearing any panties under her skirt. I didn't actually hear her say that, I knew she wasn't and the smile that grew on his face made it clear that he had just found out. Near the end of the meal, Sally excused herself to go to the rest room. Sitting there with Ted, it struck me that we were NOT just friends having lunch, but that after lunch he was going to go to bed with my wife. A wave of shame and excitement crashed over me. "I just remembered that this is not an ordinary lunch," I said as calmly as possible. "It feels a little strange." "I'm sure it does," Ted answered with a smile. "It's not an ordinary lunch at all, is it?" We sat there quietly, finishing our meal. The lover and the cuckold, each thinking about what would happen next. One preparing to go to bed with another man's wife, one preparing to be left alone while his wife went to bed with another man. I wanted to crawl under the table every time he looked at me. THE "SUITE" Our usual hotel was full, so we had reserved a suite at the local Fairfield Inn. Arriving at the room, we saw that "suite" did not mean two rooms with a door in between, but two parts of a room: a bedroom, a waist-high partition and a sitting area. Sally looked genuinely upset at the thought that I would be in the same room, until I pointed out that the sitting room was at an angle to the bedroom, and if I sat in the corner I could barely see the foot of the bed. That comforted her enough, and as Ted approached her she pointed to the chair in the corner and said to me, "Sit." I sat in "my" chair as Sally took Ted's hand and led him into the bedroom. To my surprise (and delight), she sat in the bedroom chair which was directly in my line of sight, and pulled Ted toward her. He stood in front of her and she immediately opened his pants, pushing them down to his ankles. All I could see was Ted's back and legs as he faced her, until her hand snaked between his legs and caressed his underwear-covered ass. As she did this, he lifted up his shirt, and it was clear that her other hand was stroking his cock through the fabric. I sat there in silence, fully dressed, afraid to make a sound; if they moved to the bed I wouldn't see anything. My wife slipped her fingers into both sides of the waistband of his Jockeys, and pulled his underwear down to his ankles. I was transfixed: my wife was undressing him right in front of my eyes. I stared at Ted's naked ass, feeling it mocking me as I sat by myself in the corner of the other room. Trying to deal with the knowledge that my wife wanted him and wanted him naked, I stared until I saw his whole body shudder and heard a sound which had never made it through the closed doors of their bedroom on their previous dates. It was an intake of breath, a reverse-gasp; the sound of sexual pleasure, the sound of Ted reacting as my wife took his penis into her mouth. Still unwilling even to pull down my pants for fear they would see me and move to the bed, I sat there rubbing my hardon through my pants while Sally gave him an amazing blow-job. Ted took off his shirt to get it out of her way, and I saw the muscles in his back, ass and legs shaking and jerking as he moaned and groaned from her attention. I could not see her at all, it was clear what she was doing. It was also clear how he felt about it. After getting VERY close to cumming, Ted leaned over, kissed her and pulled her shirt over her head and off her. Then he helped her to her feet and they held each other close, kissing deeply. He guided my wife toward their bed, and the last thing I saw was Sally's naked back as she turned to place something on the chair. She disappeared toward the bed again, and I was left staring at her bra which she had laid over the chair's arm. I stared at that bra for the next three hours. Lace straps and two empty cups. I could draw the scene again in a second, because the image burned itself in my mind: empty bra cups because Ted had my wife's breasts now. Empty bra cups because my wife took off her underwear so he could touch her as she had touched him. Empty bra cups because my wife was naked, in bed with her lover, just out of my sight. I sat in "my" chair and stared at her bra. So close, and yet so far: I could see her abandoned underwear, but nothing more. At the sound of the covers being pulled back on the bed, I took off my own clothes and started to jerk off. The sounds continued for a while -- the ordinary noises of lovers making themselves comfortable. Muted talking -- friendly, caring, loving. I couldn't hear the words, but I knew what they were saying. More covers moving, then another intake of breath from Ted, followed by louder moans. Ted has told me many times that Sally loves going down on him, and that she has a voracious appetite for his cock. I had always believed him, but now I knew first-hand. Or is it second-hand, when you can only hear but not see? As I adjusted myself in "my" chair, I realized that if I moved just a few inches to the left, I could see the very bottom of the bed. I'm not proud: I moved instantly. What I saw was Ted's feet, toes pointed upward; he was lying on his back while my wife sucked his cock. Each of his groans was accompanied by movement of his feet: shaking, jerking, toes curling and stretching. I watched his excitement build, and I felt not just like a voyeur, but like a cheap voyeur, getting off on nothing but naked feet. He said something to Sally, and turned over. Her feet appeared next to his, her toes also pointed toward the ceiling. Her legs moved apart, and his -- pointing downward -- stretched out between them. Again I heard that intake of breath, but this time it came from my wife. Her feet spread wider, then disappeared from view as he opened her legs and lifted them up. (I remembered Sally telling me after every date that he loves to hold her legs up while he fucks her.) Another reverse-gasp from her, then from him. Then, thanks to the Fairfield Inn, I heard an entire concert of sex sounds: moaning and groaning, gasping and whispering, and the unmistakably nasty sound of a cock going in and out of a very, very wet pussy. For just a moment I wondered where they had gotten lubricant, but then I remembered that my wife is always soaking wet for him; they have never used lubricant of any kind, other than their own, in all their years together. Still, I had never heard his cock sliding in and out of her as if an entire tube of K-Y had been poured into her. The sloppy sounds of sex and the sight of the soles of his feet overwhelmed me; I jerked off as much as I could, trying not to cum and trying not to cry. Sally whispers words between gasps. I can't make them out, but I know from the tone that she is encouraging him to cum in her. Everything increases in speed and tone, and I hear their bodies slapping together as he drives into her. His groans turn to whimpers, then no sound except the slap-slap-slap of their bodies. Then he cums. I sit in "my" chair and listen as Ted cries out loudly with pleasure, again and again. I wish there was a way to describe my feelings as I listen to my wife's lover cum in her, but there is not. Sex -- even just listening to sex -- is exciting. But remembering that my wife is cuckolding me, that her lover is happily reaping the benefits of my wife's unfaithfulness, tempers the excitement with a deep, hollow, empty feeling. Then he cries out again, and the pain is hidden behind the incredible sexuality of the whole thing. I masturbate furiously, not allowing myself to cum. Cumming would make it impossible for me to cope with my emotions, and besides, right now cumming is for her lover only. As my wife is for her lover only. The noises stop, except for Ted grunting through the aftershocks of his orgasm and the gentle sounds of kissing. The covers rustle, and I hear Sally's pocket rocket begin to vibrate. Yet another intake of breath from my wife, and her feet reappear at the bottom of the bed, alongside his. Then her feet spread slightly, and he slips one foot over hers as the sounds of kissing and the hum of the vibrator continue. Sitting in the corner of the other room, a thought occurs to me: I put that red polish on her toenails. I know it was unintended, as she had no idea I would be so close, or able to see her at all when she went to bed with Ted. Yet it was just a day earlier that she looked at her toenails and decided she wanted new polish on them for her date, and asked me to do it for her. I obliged happily, as there is not much she wants from me before her dates and because it meant I got to see her naked legs the whole time I was working on her toes. But now, lying in bed with him, she could not have made it clearer to me that I was an outsider to her lovemaking than she did by exposing her feet to my gaze, her shiny red nails laughing at me until Ted's feet gently covered them. Her feet told me everything. I could see when she opened her legs for him, I could see when she got excited, and I could see when she caressed his legs with hers. I'm not a "foot person" at all, but beggars can't be choosers; I got to see four naked feet in bed, when all I had seen for years was a closed, locked door. Four naked feet and an empty bra getting me off: pitiful, yes, but I was too excited to care. At the end of one of their dates, Ted sat down and talked to me before he said goodbye. You can read about that experience elsewhere if you would like, but I will never forget how he described Sally cumming: "In less than two minutes, she was doing her dance." I cannot get that conversation out of my mind, even though it happened months ago -- the shocking realization that this man knew exactly what my wife looked like when she cums, and could describe it to me so simply, since we both shared the same experience. I've sat for hours thinking, "He knows my wife's dance." Which is why it drove me wild when Sally came. I hadn't thought about "her dance" in weeks, until her feet stretched out, tightened up and then, with a loud moan from her, began... dancing. Her feet shook, shot up and down, drew up out of my sight and back again like a horizontal clog dancer. I saw nothing else of her orgasm except that, and I knew that Ted was holding her, feeling her and riding with her through it all. But I got to see my wife's feet dance with him just as he had described, and the overwhelming sensation of having lost her, at least for the moment, put me right at the edge of cumming -- and the edge of tears. When her last spasms had ended and her "dance" was over, they began to talk. I still could not hear the words they spoke, but their tone was warm, open and... loving. They must have talked for a half hour, during which time I felt as I always do when they are just enjoying each other's company: left out, frustrated and horny. I could still see their feet intertwined, but nothing was happening to get my attention; I was alone in the other room, and I knew neither of them cared in the least about what I was thinking, feeling or doing. After what seemed to be 17 hours, the conversation stopped and I began to hear slow, deep breathing. This time, their feet told a different story: Ted's were pointed up, Sally's were next to his but pointed away from him. The deep breathing continued, and I realized they were asleep. I watched to see if either of them moved their feet, to give me a clue about whether one or the other was awake, but no one moved for another 17 hours (trust me, times passes slowly when you're sitting in the cuckold's chair). Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer: I quietly got up and tiptoed toward the bedroom. The problem with a description at this point is that I have to start somewhere and say one thing at a time, but that's not what I experienced. What I saw when I reached the edge of the bedroom was all of this at once: Ted was lying on his back, completely naked, his soft penis lying directly between his legs; my wife was lying on her side, facing away from him but pressed up against him, with the sheet covering her up to her chest, but her left breast had popped out of the top of the sheet and was there in full view; and last (but actually just as much first as the others), Sally's left arm was draped over Ted's body, with her fingers just a quarter-inch from his cock. Looking at this tableau before me was exciting as hell, but gut-wrenching: not that I had any doubt, but I was now faced with the clear fact that my wife was in bed with another man. Not just in bed, but in BED: naked, fucked and sleeping with him. Then I saw something that will stay with me for a long, long time. Looking at Sally's hand resting on him and thinking about how the penis she was nearly touching had just cum in her, I noticed that her fingers were spread slightly and Ted's pubic hair was curling up between them, his curly, dark hair completely covering her wedding ring. All of her fingers were visible, even with his pubic hair sticking up between them, except for the section of her ring finger which held her ring. That was completely hidden by his hair. Gold, and diamonds and marriage and fidelity and everything else a wedding ring means, covered by her lover's pubic hair as they slept together. I looked at them for as long as I could, then returned quietly to "my" chair. REALITY OVERWHELMS I can't even guess how long they slept; it's one of those things that is perfect for lovers to do after sex, but it's torture for the guy jerking off in the other room. However long it was, I finally heard stirring, covers rustling, and quiet words. Then Sally walked out of the bedroom, stark naked, and passed by me on the way to the bathroom. She looked SOOO good, and SOOO naked: nipples hard, nothing covering her skin from head to toe(s), her triangle of pubic hair, and her naked ass when she passed by. Funny, but I felt like I had seen something private, intimate -- something I was not supposed to see. In fact, I had: I had seen Ted's lover fresh from his bed. My wife, but his lover. I savored the naughty treat in my mind, even after she closed the bathroom door. When she came out of the bathroom, she stopped to wash her hands and face at the sink. I walked over to her, and asked if she was having a good time. "Oh, YES!" she said with a smile. "How about you? Are you okay?" "I'm okay. A little lonely." "I bet you are," she answered, and walked back to (their) bed. By now I knew the drill. Moving covers, kissing sounds, and Ted's intake of breath. She had his cock in her mouth again. More grunts, more groans, more of the sight of his feet reacting to her attention to his sex. I settled in for another feet-as-surrogate-for-sex show. I saw them change positions, and I knew when to anticipate Sally's gasp as he entered her. She must have been soaking wet, because I heard the sloppy sounds of his cock in her pussy as clearly as if they were wired for sound. But I did not anticipate what I heard next. "Paul, come here," my wife said through her heavy breathing. I wondered if something was wrong, because I couldn't think of any other reason for her to call me. I jumped to my feet and went to the doorway, still clutching my erection in my hand. As soon as I got to the doorway I guessed that nothing was wrong, because in front of me was a scene I had not witnessed in years. Sally -- my WIFE -- was lying on her back, naked. Her tits were exposed, her nipples pointing to the sky. Her legs were spread -- really spread -- and up in the air, held there by Ted's arms. I stared directly at the soles of her feet, waving up and down as Ted fucked her. Ted was fucking her. He was on his knees, his torso straight up. He was steadying himself by holding on to my wife's legs. And he was fucking her. From the doorway I couldn't see his cock, but I saw his hips moving back and forth as he drove his sex organ into my wife's body. I couldn't breathe, and I didn't dare move. "Since you were lonely, we thought you'd like to watch for a few minutes," my wife's voice said from behind her lover's body. "Thank you," I croaked. They paid no further attention to me. It was really as if I was not there, but I didn't care. After a minute of watching from the doorway, I quietly slipped into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, behind Ted. I bent down a little and actually saw his cock sliding in and out of Sally's swollen, dripping pussy. Remember when I said I had polished Sally's toenails for this date? After finishing her nails and letting them dry, I also put skin cream all over her legs to get them soft for him. When I did this, Sally lifted her legs up to allow me access to the bottom of her thighs -- wearing panties, of course, and with her breasts covered with a blanket. As I massaged the cream into her legs, she caught me admiring the view and said, "You don't get to see me in this position very often anymore, do you?" I admitted that I did not, and thanked her for allowing me to see her like that. That is what I thought of as I watched her in that same position, but with no blanket, no panties and with Ted between her legs, fucking her. No, I don't get to see her in that position very much anymore, and here in front of me was the reason why: she saves it for him. In the years since I had last seen my wife make love to another man, I had forgotten EVERYTHING. I had forgotten how much naked skin there is. I had forgotten how exposed both lovers are to each other. I had forgotten how intimate it is, sharing bodies, sharing kisses, sharing... everything. Sex is wet and hairy and erect and sweaty and loud and horny and so fucking DIRTY that people pay good money to look at porn, but this porn was not for money, it was for pleasure. My wife. giving and getting pleasure. With him. Then I noticed something: her leg muscles were moving, but not just from him fucking her. They were moving to fuck HIM, and his groans matched the contractions of her muscles. Looking between his legs, where his cock was completely inside my wife, I saw that her pussy, too, was contracting around him. I thought back to when we make love and Sally just lies there, motionless while I get off inside her. THIS was what she had been waiting for. She was fucking him passionately, when all I had known from her in recent months was amused passivity. I thought I knew what I had been missing, but I was wrong; the reality I saw in front of my face put my most intense fantasies to shame. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 09 I stayed at the bottom of the bed, hidden from her view by his body, for fear she would say it was time for me to leave. But I don't think they would have noticed if I had been banging cymbals together, given the intensity of their lovemaking. I watched, masturbating like a madman, as Ted's speed increased and as he pushed her legs higher and his cock deeper. I heard my wife urging him on, telling him she wanted to feel him cum in her, and her words cut to my soul as they inflamed my cock. He was getting close. She was driving him over the edge. She was fucking him. Then he came, and again words fail to describe what I witnessed. He cried out with pleasure over and over, and the sound of him -- another man -- cumming like that made me insane with jealousy. His body convulsed -- not randomly, but with a singular purpose, as I watched every muscle in his ass, his back and his legs contract to squirt his cum into his lover's womb. Again and again his body worked to reward my wife's fucking with his sperm; it was like a biology class, a porn movie and a thousand people laughing at me, all at the same time. There is nothing more intimate than cumming, and nothing more animal than a male inseminating a female. Ted cumming and inseminating my wife. He collapsed on her when he was done, and I saw his softening penis slip out of her. I don't know why I expected a moment's respite, but I did not get it -- they were no longer interested in resting. He immediately began kissing her: starting with her mouth, he kissed down her neck, her breasts, her shoulders, her arms, her belly. She reached for her vibrator and placed it on her clit as he kissed and licked and sucked her everywhere. As his mouth approached her ear he began whispering, and I knew he was making love to my wife with his words as well as his body. Sally smiled, looked at me, and with a flip of her hand waved me away. I knew better than to argue and I was grateful they let me stay so long, so I (slowly) made my way toward the door. Halfway across the bedroom, I heard that same intake of breath from her that had become the day's refrain, and I stopped to look. Ted had her right nipple in his mouth, and from the up-and-down movement of her breast I could see that he was sucking on her like a baby nursing. Like our babies nursed from that same breast when they were young. I stood, transfixed, at this sexy violation of our private lives, as my wife fed her nipple to her lover and shuddered from his attention. Sally gasped, opened her eyes for a second and saw me standing there, masturbating. With a look of annoyance which left no room for doubt, she pointed to the other room and mouthed the word, "Now!" I turned and walked back to "my" chair. Still reeling from the past 10 minutes, I sat and watched their feet once again. His feet sliding up and down her legs, her feet stretching and tightening in sync with her moaning, and finally "her dance" as she came -- loudly -- in his arms. I sat as quietly as I could through her aftershocks, hearing her grunts and seeing her feet jump each time, my eyes torn between staring at the little I could see of them and focusing on the empty bra laid out over the chair. I was right at the edge of cumming, but I contented myself with getting to the edge over and over again. Soon, they both began to move. Sally walked over to her clothes on the chair without so much as a glance my way, and began to dress. Ted was obviously doing the same out of my sight, as I heard the sounds of zipping and belt buckle. They spoke casually, comfortably; like two lovers who knew each other (in every sense) well enough to relax together. When they were dressed, Ted took my wife in his arms and kissed her deeply. The fierceness of their earlier kisses was gone, replaced by satisfaction and affection. They had made each other feel good, and now they were saying "thank you." I knew what was expected of me: I sat silently in the corner, masturbating in the semi-darkness. Ted picked up his briefcase and walked by me on the way to the door. "Take care," he said, as if we had just shared a beer, not my wife. "Thank you for making my wife feel so good," I whispered, too horny and too submissive to even slow down my masturbating. "Oh, it was my pleasure. My PLEASURE. Bye." And he was out the door. Sally slowly made her way over to me. "Did you have a good time?" she asked, sitting down on the couch facing me. "Thank you SO much for letting me see you!" I blurted out. "It was incredible. I had forgotten. I had forgotten EVERYTHING." "I know. That's why I thought we should take advantage of this weird 'suite' and give you a little show. It won't happen again so soon, so I'm glad you liked it." "Oh, I really did. Did YOU have a good time?" I asked, as I continued to jerk off in front of her. "I had a great time. I really like that he respected my wishes to be less 'hands-on' in public, and that made me SO ready for him when we got to bed..." She paused for a moment, weighing her words, and after she spoke I understood why. Even with everything I had seen, everything I had heard, I was not prepared for the honesty and intensity of what she said next. Sally looked right into my eyes -- with love, but without a hint of doubt or show or guile -- and said, "Sex with him is what sex is supposed to feel like. No sharp edges, no uncomfortable moments. It's just GOOD." I don't even know where I got the strength to ask, but I had to ask: "And with me?" She did not hesitate with her response. "Sex doesn't ever feel like that with you. I love you, but it doesn't feel GOOD with you." I sat there naked and masturbating in front of my fully-dressed, fully-satisfied and proper-looking wife, and tried to come to grips with everything that had happened, with what she just said and with the knowledge that Ted's sperm were swimming inside her as we spoke. My mind went to overload and came four days' worth of cum. I screamed out and squirted cum everywhere, while she sat silently and watched. Not with anger; perhaps with a little pity, yet still with love, my wife let me make myself feel just a little bit of what her lover made her feel, and what she made him feel. But we both knew it was not the same. Something had changed, and we felt it. Since then, Sally has talked about how much she loves her relationship with Ted and how much she is looking forward to their next date. She wrote to him and told him what she said to me, and he answered he was glad she felt that way, because he did, too. I don't know what it will be like the next time we sit at lunch together, but I do know I will be much, much less comfortable. There will be fewer moments when it seems like "just a normal lunch among friends," since I will not be able to forget what all three of us know: that for my wife, sex with him is what sex is supposed to feel like, and it doesn't ever feel like that with me. It's not just words. It is reality. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 10 Chapter 10: Thanking The Cuckold December 2006 INTRODUCTION, AND A FAVOR: My wife, Sally, sees herself as way too much of a Good Girl to get involved in online conversations, especially about sex. But everything I write about is something which she has done with another man. After she read this story, which described a major change in our relationship, she said she liked it a lot and wanted to hear other people's comments when they read it. Believe me, that is a first! SO, if you would like to comment on her superb cuckolding of me, or any other positive comments directed toward her, please forward them to me. If you want to send nasty comments, feel free, too; but they will be deleted faster that obscenities in the NY Review of Books! Send your comments to Sally via my profile, and I thank you in advance for being supportive of my wife's new curiosity about how the rest of the cuckold world feels about our arrangement. ~~ONWARD~~ CAVEAT: If you're looking for a story with lots of graphic sex, this is not it. This is about cuckolding, and cuckolds generally don't get to be involved in sex at all. If you get off on cuckolding, read on! Also, if you're going to be offended if you read about cuckolding, then brace yourself: that's what this is about. So either read with that in mind, or read something else, please. I hate upsetting people when I tell them up front what's going to happen and then they get ticked off when it happens. Here is the story: I used to be my wife's only lover. Then I was one of her lovers. Now, I get to drive her to her dates with her lover. I'm not complaining, I am just amazed at how life has turned out. And one last note to begin: for those who think our marriage is definitely headed for the rocks, thank you for your concern. We've made it through 24 years, and we're not going to let a little thing like how bad I am at sex get in the way of another 24 years together! Seriously, one of the most breathtaking parts of all of this has been Sally's acceptance of the fact that I just do not turn her on in bed, and her understanding that we can have a wonderful marriage even though she saves her pussy for the man who makes her wet. We had experimented once before with her denying me the pleasure of intercourse, but that was more of a game than a change in our lives (or so I like to tell myself). But when Ty, whom she had been seeing for a few years, moved away, that part of the game disappeared. Whether she really wanted to fuck me, or just wanted to fuck someone and I was the only one around, we returned to our occasional, uninspired sex. When I say "sex," I am referring to intercourse only. One of the things Sally does appreciate about me is my skill at helping her get off using my fingers, my mouth and her vibrator. We have never stopped doing that, and feeling her let go in my arms brings us both tremendous pleasure. Even now that my penis is not longer invited into her, I continue to do my husbandly duties with excitement and devotion. So much for the background. In August, 2006, Sally and Ted (her long-term lover, at eight years and counting) had a wonderful time together. So did I, as I related in Chapter 20 of the Cuckold's Diary, because I got to watch them in action for the first time in years. I was struck by how much I had forgotten about how intense the sex was between them, but nothing was more jarring to me than the absolutely wicked sound of his cock sloshing in her pussy as he fucked her each time. Sally has always talked about how wet she gets for him, but there is a huge difference between being told and hearing the sounds yourself. My wife literally soaks her panties, the sheets, and him every time she is with him. After that date, she and I talked about what happened and why. I asked her if she knew why she got so wet for him, and she said, "because sex with him feels the way sex is supposed to feel." I asked her if it ever felt that way with me, and after considering the question for a minute she said, simply, "No." As I described in the last chapter, it was not so much her answer as the intensity and sincerity of it; this was NOT a game, and I think her admission affected her as much as it did me. What we decided after that night was that we would not say we are NEVER going to fuck again, but that we would do it only when she wanted. Unless she said otherwise, I would assume that making love would mean helping her cum and then going off by myself to masturbate. We both promised we would hold and hug and kiss each other at least as much as we always have, and that the only thing different would be our mutual understanding that my penis doesn't excite her at all... and his does. Ever the "good girl," Sally agreed -- but did not talk about it very much in the intervening months, other than to let me get her off, and then send me away. Through circumstances beyond everyone's control, Sally and Ted did not see each other from mid-August until early December. During that time she asked me for sex exactly three times. Each time, of course, I had to use Vaseline to enter her, because even after I had helped her to a huge orgasm her pussy was completely dry. Being inside her felt awesome, but I could not help thinking each time that I was getting a mercy fuck, while she wished I was her lover. Funny thing, though: throughout the four months we actually held and hugged and kissed each other even more than usual. We both felt good with our decision: I no longer was disappointed when we did not have sex every night, and she no longer experienced the disappointment of being completely unexcited when we did. I began to feel that I am truly her cuckold, and she, in spite of her own need to think of herself as a "good girl," started enjoying our new understanding as well. But it is one thing not to have sex with your wife, and quite another to know that someone else does. It was their most recent date that brought that conclusion home to me more powerfully than ever before. As I think about it now, I realize how much things have changed in our lives -- in Sally's and mine, and maybe even Ted's. Their date began as most do, with me driving Sally the hour and a half to the hotel. I checked in while she waited for him by the car, and I was just putting everything in the room when she called to tell me he had arrived. By the time I got back to the parking lot Sally was sitting in his car and, as usual, I got in back. I'm sure it does not seem very erotic to most people, but being consigned to the back seat while my wife sits in front with her lover is usually my first reminder of what the day holds in store. Lunch was, by all outward appearances, the meeting of good friends. Being in public, Sally not only appreciates Ted's respect of her desire to look innocent; she also likes my being there, as even in the highly unlikely case that we run into someone we know, everything appears above-board. After all, what wife would be suspected of having an affair with her husband sitting right there? I knew better. I knew what they were both thinking, and I knew what they both wanted. I looked at the two of them throughout lunch, trying to imagine what it feels like to know you're about to go to bed with this person as soon as lunch is over. I also tried to imagine what each of them thought about Sally's comment, because we all knew what she said about sex feeling right with him, and not with me. Ted has always been a gentleman to me, but I imagined he had to enjoy the thought that my wife wanted him inside her, and not me. And that is when I began to feel different -- a feeling which has not left me in the week since their date. When Sally began seeing Ted, we all knew that he was sharing what had been only mine for 16 years. Yes, he came to know her secrets -- the secrets of her body, the secrets of her feelings, the secrets of her orgasms -- but so did I. Even at the most intense moments of cuckolding, I knew that she would come home with me, and I would have my turn. But no longer. Now, as I watched the two lovers eat and chat amicably, I realized that each was looking forward to something which only the other could give. Ted was looking forward to sex with my beautiful wife, and Sally was looking forward to sex -- real sex, GOOD sex -- with her lover. Not only did they want each other; they wanted ONLY each other. So this is what it feels like to be a cuckold, I thought. Not just to be cuckolded, sitting in the next room while my wife fucks another man, but to be a cuckold: to live with the knowledge that she wants him, not me, in her bed and in her body. It was a good thing I had not cum in three days, because the pain and humiliation I felt at that moment would have made me run away, or pass out, if I had been less horny. They sat over lunch forever. I couldn't believe they kept talking after the meal was over, until I realized they were in no hurry. They knew what would happen next, and they were savoring their time together like exquisitely subtle foreplay. Finally they arose, and Sally excused herself to go to the rest room while Ted and I waited for her in the restaurant hallway. Always the gentleman, he made small talk, as if either of us was not aware of what was about to transpire. The businesspeople passing by us had no idea that he was about to fuck my wife, nor did they know how much my wife was longing for his touch. Just before Sally returned I managed to croak out, "She's my wife, you know." Ted said, simply, "I know," and turned to smile at her as she emerged from the ladies' room. The drive back to the hotel was mercifully short, and the three of us made our way to our -- or rather, their -- room. They sat together on the couch in the living room, and I took the only other seat available, in the chair facing them. Sally started reminiscing about their first date, and they were both amused to discover that I remembered every single detail, repeating the conversation verbatim. Ted had his arm around her, and when I talked about them first kissing, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. As I shuddered from the simple, shocking reality of another man kissing my wife in front of me, I saw that the kiss had an even stronger effect on the two of them. Sally shook a little, and Ted took her hand and helped her to her feet. "Enough with old memories. Let's make some new ones," he said. As my wife took his hand and walked toward the bedroom with a smile on her face, I said the only thing a cuckold can possibly say in a situation like that: "Have a nice time." If there is a single phrase that illustrates the feeling of being a cuckold, it is that one. Sitting there in the living room chair, watching my wife and her lover head for the bedroom to make love to each other, I do not do any of the things a normal man would do. I do not fight, or even protest. I do not cry or get angry. I just sit meekly in the corner, and tell my wife and her lover that I hope they "have a nice time" making love. The words ring in my ears, mocking me, yet even in retrospect I cannot think of anything else to say. I actually DO hope they have a nice time, and I know I will sit there quietly and wait for hours until they are finished. We each have a role in this relationship, and my role is to bring my wife to her lover, to keep them company at lunch, and then to step aside so they can share time and intimacy and sex together. Sally and Ted smiled in response, wrapped their arms around each other's waist, and disappeared down the hallway. I heard the bedroom door close behind them. This is it now, I thought. For the next few hours they are together, and I am alone. I take a towel from the bathroom, spread it on the couch, and start getting undressed. They don't care what I do now, so I will spend the time masturbating. I still will not cum -- damn, the thought of sitting through all of this when I'm not massively horny is incentive enough to hold back -- but I will jerk off thinking about what my wife is giving to him... and not to me. Yet I have only begun to unbutton my shirt when Sally calls to me. I walk to the bedroom door and knock -- how stupid is that for a husband to do? -- and Sally says, "Come in." The first thing I see is Ted's naked back, naked legs, naked ass: he is standing by the bed, facing toward it. Then I see my wife's head pop out beside his hips, and I see that she was lying on the bed, sucking his cock when I entered. She smiles at me and says, "I left my purse in the other room, and it has my vibrator in it. Please get it." I nod dumbly and walk into the living room to retrieve her bag. It had not been even five minutes and the two of them were completely naked already; they must have torn their clothes off as soon as they got into the room! (Afterward, Sally would tell me that I was right. They got into the bedroom, Ted kissed her, she felt her pussy gush with lubrication, and they did, indeed tear their own clothes off in their rush to get to bed.) Walking back to the bedroom I steeled myself for the sight of my naked wife and her naked lover, but reality again knocked the breath out of me as I saw Ted leaning down, kissing my wife and holding her breast in his hand, his naked ass pointed directly at me as I laid her purse on the night table. Sally broke her lips away from his long enough to say, "That's it. Now go." As she spoke, Ted looked up at me. I half expected him to laugh, given my ridiculous status as errand-boy for my wife, but his expression was completely serious. My heart jumped as I realized he had no desire to laugh at me; in fact, he barely noticed me. His face was that of a man intent on sex, and no mere husband was going to interrupt his goal of making love to the woman lying next to him. I felt small. I felt insignificant. I felt ignored even as I stood there. I heard a sigh escape from her lips -- or was it from his? -- as I quietly closed their bedroom door behind me. Sally and Ted don't just fuck; they make love. Of course they have sex, but they also spend hours in bed talking together. But they follow a pattern, and I know the sex comes first when they go to bed. So after being dismissed, I knew they would have no reason to call for me again, at least for a while. I quickly took off all my clothes, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and the Vaseline from my coat pocket, and sat down on the hallway floor, outside of their bedroom. My eyes were glued to the door, as if somehow I would develop x-ray vision to see what was happening inside. Unfortunately that did not happen, but I was able to make out the sounds of their lovemaking. As I have described before, those sounds tell a lot -- not everything, but a lot -- about what my wife and her lover are doing together. Kissing, then Ted moaning. Sally must be sucking his cock again. Occasionally he laughs -- not out of amusement, but out of amazement at how good she is at blowing him. The rustle of the sheets, then a simultaneous intake of breath from Sally and a deep moan from Ted. He just slid his cock into my wife's pussy. Rhythmic bouncing of the bedframe -- slow, then fast, then slow again -- and noises which anyone from anywhere would know to be the sounds of a man and a woman fucking. I hear Ted's excitement build, and I wonder if he is going to cum. But he stops suddenly, and I hear Sally's vibrator start. How considerate of Ted, to make sure my wife cums before he does! Silence. I think I hear the sounds of kissing, but they are faint and... well, so am I. Sally has told me how Ted touches her everywhere while he's bringing her off: kissing her lips, sucking her nipples, running his hands everywhere. Every once in a while I hear the vibrator, then the sound disappears. I know it has not stopped; it is tucked tightly between my wife's pussy lips, and I only hear it as it momentarily adjusts on its target. My wife is in heaven now: her lover in her bed, her vibrator on her clit, her husband out of sight, out of mind -- and out the door. Minutes go by. It seems like hours, as I wait for THAT sound. When I hear it, I feel a mixture of shame and, oddly enough, relief. One, long grunt -- my wife's orgasm sound -- followed by the sound of something slamming down on the bed, again and again. That "something" is my wife's body, jerking and spasming as she cums in her lover's arms. Yes, I am ashamed to be sitting on the floor while another man gives her pleasure. But I also feel a sense of joy: I am glad to hear her feeling so good. And I know what comes next, because my wife will want to give him that ultimate pleasure very soon. Very soon? How about, "instantly"? The only way I can tell that the bed is now bouncing from fucking is by the sounds which Ted is making. He must have jumped her even as she finished cumming, because there was no pause at all. I hear Sally speaking to him in a staccato voice: I cannot hear the words, but I know she is encouraging him to cum in her, and with each stroke of his penis he forces her to catch her breath. I hear him groaning, and I know he is enjoying sex, enjoying my wife... enjoying what she has saved for him and denied to me. I thought about what it must feel like for him. I tried to remember the feeling of my wife's pussy around me, but the feeling is elusive, driven away by the discomfort of sitting on a hard floor and the disorientation of hearing Ted grunting away behind the door. I really couldn't remember what it felt like, but I knew Ted would be able to tell me later. After her came in her. Maybe one day I will be prepared for the sound of his orgasm. Maybe, but I don't think it will be anytime soon. I've tried to describe it dozens of times before, but words are always insufficient. Rather than getting easier as the years have passed, it has only grown more difficult, more gut-wrenching, to hear. Now, as I realized that I could not even remember what it felt like to fuck my wife, the sounds he made when he came made my head spin. I sat on the floor of a hotel room and masturbated, while my wife's lover came in her in the next room. He cried out in what some call "beautiful agony," a series of groans and grunts as he orgasmed and ejaculated in her pussy. I knew I was hearing the product of a mutual effort: Ted fucking my wife, and my wife fucking Ted. I heard the surprised moans which a man makes when a pussy tightens around his cock, and the deep, guttural grunts of him squirting every drop of semen into his lover. Once again, I had forgotten how sexual, how obscene, how exciting it is to hear a man cum in a woman, but this time, as I looked at my hand stroking my own penis, I realized I had not only forgotten what it feels like to fuck my wife; I also could not remember at all what it feels like -- what it felt like - to cum in her. I did not cum through all of that. Years of experience have taught me that the only way to cope with being cuckolded is to stay horny enough to turn humiliation into sexual feelings, and once I have cum I am left with nothing but loneliness and shame. When Ted and Sally finished making love, I dragged my hand away from my penis, got up, and went to sit on the couch in the living room. I spent the next half-hour reviewing what had just happened, bringing myself to the edge of orgasm again and again. But there is only so long I can jerk off, and only so many times I can get excited thinking about recent events, before I must face reality: my wife and her lover are sleeping now, together, in each other's arms, in that ultimate of clichés: "post-coital bliss." And I am alone. A cuckold. Being a cuckold is exciting, but it is also painful. In fact, it is painful much more often than it is exciting, as I live every day with the knowledge that my wife is unfaithful to me. I may hear her fucking Ted for a half an hour, but I sit -- in the living room of the hotel, in the car on the way home, and all the rest of my life -- knowing that she wants him in her, not me. Part of me wants to knock on the bedroom door, to tell them to fuck again so I have something to entertain me, but I know that is not a cuckold's role, and it would not be well received at all. My job is to drive her to her dates, to keep them company in public, and then to wait quietly until they are done making love. A thought crosses my mind: there should be a Hallmark card for lovers to send to cuckolds, thanking us for our help. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 10 An hour and a half after they went to bed, I hear the bedroom door open. Sally emerges, naked, and walks quietly to the bathroom. I resume masturbating furiously: I just saw my wife the way Ted saw her: skin, breasts, pussy, ass, legs... my own wife! I hadn't even begun to assimilate that image when she came out of the bathroom and walked over to me. I asked her to sit down, but she said no, she would rather stand. I could not even think of standing on ceremony; I masturbated like mad as she stood next to me, her pubic hair at my eye level, and said she was having a great time. I looked at her standing so proudly, both of us knowing what she had done and would do again, and I couldn't breathe. I kept thinking it was so nice of her to say hello to me before returning to her lover, but only a cuckold could understand that thought. I shook and gasped at the sheer excitement of it all, and she laughed. She turned to go back to him, and I asked her to wait. "What was the best part?" I asked through my sexual delirium. Sally -- my wife, my partner, the mother of my children -- thought for a moment, then said, "I was sopping wet when he came in me." Then she walked away from me, closing the bedroom door behind her. What part of that do I deal with first? Do I deal with my wife's nudity, knowing she shared herself completely with that man in the other room? Do I try to accept that she was "sopping wet," when we all know she never got wet at all when she and I made love? Or do I try to accept the fact that my wife just told me another man came in her -- that she came to report to me that another man's sperm was now swimming in her womb? It was all I could to do to keep from cumming, or crying, or both. But it was so kind of her to take the time to visit with me before going back to him. I felt warm and loved, in a way that only a cuckold could possibly understand. Even sitting there all alone, I was reassured and revitalized. But the best was yet to come. Just a few minutes later, Ted called to me. I answered, puzzled as to what he might want. I was certain he would not ask me to watch them fuck again; both of them had made it clear that the last time, when I did watch, was not something they wanted to repeat. "Come here, Paul," he said. I went to the bedroom door, and again, I knocked. He told me to come in, and I tentatively opened the door. I was naked and hard, and I was both embarrassed and feeling like an intruder. But he asked... Here is what I saw when I opened the door: My wife was lying on her back, the sheet pulled up to just below her breasts. Her nipples were hard. Ted was lying next to her, his right arm under her head, his left draped across her body. He was caressing her right breast with his left hand, and they were kissing. I did not know what to say, or what to do, so I stood there dumbly. After a few moments, Ted looked up, smiled at me, and said, "I realized we haven't thanked you properly for everything you have done to make this possible. We really appreciate all your efforts, and we want to thank you formally. We would never have had this time together if not for you." With that, he kissed my wife again, and she shuddered as he gently squeezed her nipple between his fingers. How can a man feel completely empty and very proud at the same time? I don't know, but that is truly what I felt. I stood there as that man held, kissed and felt up my wife, and along with my shame I suddenly understood that I had done something good for both of them -- and for me, too. I had brought two lovers together. I had helped my wife find something she never found in our marriage. And I had made it as convenient, easy and comfortable for them to be together as I possibly could. "You're welcome," was all I said. "Please leave us alone now," Ted answered. There was no meanness in his voice; no sense of superiority; no intent to embarrass me. We all knew how things were, and he was simply saying what needed to be said. Thank you, and goodbye. I closed the door gently as I left, and I sat down on the towel in the hallway. As I heard the first sounds of their lovemaking begin again, I noticed for the first time that I was sitting directly opposite a full-length mirror on the hallway closet door (funny how my attention had been elsewhere earlier in the afternoon). As I looked at my image in the mirror -- a grown man, naked, stroking his rock-hard cock while he listened to the sounds of his wife fucking another man -- I realized that the pride I felt in doing a good job as a cuckold eased my pain and increased my excitement. This was the way things were supposed to be: Ted's penis in Sally's body, and mine in my hand. And then I did something I don't ever remember doing while Sally and her lovers were together. I smiled. Through his second orgasm and hers, I masturbated without release. But I was not frantic, and I felt good about everything that was happening. My loneliness? It was all right. My horniness? All right, too. My wife's infidelity? All good. The lovers appreciated what I was doing, what I was giving up. I relaxed in the understanding that I no longer had to FEEL like a cuckold, or act like one. I am one, and we all know it is supposed to be that way. By the time Ted went to the bathroom to shower, I was back on the couch. When he finished, he did something he has never done before: he walked into the living room while toweling himself dry. Once again, without a shred of meanness or superiority, he talked about how wonderful it was to fuck my wife. He talked -- raved, actually -- about how wet she was for him, how she could not keep her hands and mouth and pussy off his cock, how good she felt cumming in his arms, and how good she felt when he came in her body. Most of the time his penis was exposed as he dried his arms, chest and back, and I could not help staring. He was soft, and small (at least, small for him); obviously, my wife had satisfied him completely. But it was not his penis which held my focus the whole time he spoke; it was the knowledge that this was the penis my wife wants. I did not feel sad, or angry, or even hurt. It was as if the game was over, and I had lost; no use crying over that which is done. I knew Sally was still my wife. I knew she would go home with me after Ted left. I knew we have our lives together, and I knew our love for each other is strong. But I also knew that, for all the things she wants to do with me, sex is not one of them. Sex is saved for the naked man standing in front of me, telling me the things my wife did with him that she does not want to do with me. He returned to the bedroom, dressed and said goodbye to his lover. As he walked by me on the way to the door he said, "She's sleeping now. She had a busy day. We give each other such pleasure, and I really do appreciate everything you do to make it possible. Bye." When he left, I walked to the bedroom door. It was closed, but not latched. I was about to push it open to see how Sally was doing, to get a look at her in their lovers' bed, but I thought about what Ted said, and decided against it. I returned to the couch, leaving her to sleep undisturbed. About an hour later, I heard her moving around. I expected her to come out to me, but the noises continued and I realized she was dressing. Another few minutes and she emerged, as prim and proper as if she had just finished a business meeting. She walked over to me, gave me a kiss on the forehead, and said, "Time to get dressed. I had a wonderful time, and now it's time to go home." I asked her if I could masturbate for a few more minutes with her in the room, but she gently said no. She was finished, and now it was my job to drive her home. That night, sitting together after the kids went to sleep, she told me about their date while I jerked off. I asked her to hug me while I came, and she said no; I needed to do this alone. I asked if I could see her tits, and again she said no; they were not for me today. "Let's just enjoy the way things are," she suggested, and she smiled as she watched me. Her eyes were filled with love... but no hint of desire. That is what I saw when I came. Sally still reserves the right to invite me inside her whenever she wants. So far, she has not wanted. She and Ted are working on a date for late January, and one night she said it was quite possible that I would not be inside her before she saw him again. I thought it would hurt much more than it does. But a "thank you" goes a long way. * Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul Pines A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 11 Chapter 11: GETTING PAST SEX October 2007 Introduction If you're looking for a story with a lot of sex, this is not it. My wife, Sally, has been cuckolding me for nine and a half years now, and our own sex life has diminished as her relationship with her lover as grown. This is a description of the most recent, most exciting changes. A special note for Literotica readers: I post the chapters of my Diary under "Loving Wives" because that's where it fits, at least until they create a "Cuckold" category. If the thought that my wife (of nearly 25 years at the time the events happened, now over 27 years) loves sex with her lover, and not with me, then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. If you read it anyway, please don't write to say that you were upset, shocked or psychologically damaged by what you read. If you don't like what I'm writing about, that's completely fine with me! Thanks, Literotica, for giving me a place to share our adventures. Cuckold Paul newatthis22a@yahoo.com ***** THE last chapter I wrote for my Diary was in November, 2006. Sally and Ted have met once a month since then, and the experiences have been wonderful for them and powerful for me. But nothing really new happened, so I did not feel the need to write another chapter. Until now. At the end of 2006, Sally and I realized that our agreement that we would have sex whenever SHE wanted to had resulted in our having sex exactly three times from August to November. One can debate whether they were "mercy fucks" or merely Sally's feeling that a husband and wife are supposed to have sex, but in either case they felt very good to me but left Sally wishing Ted was around. So after their November date (November 20th, to be exact) Sally and I agreed that we would try a period with no sex at all between us, other than me helping her to cum with her vibrator when she was in the mood. We picked six months as a checkpoint: at that time we said we would discuss how it felt to both of us, and either stop or continue. Even though we had rarely had sex before that fateful day, something changed with our decision. The obvious change was that my only sex partner was my hand, and that Sally would just smile when I said I was "going downstairs for a while." But something changed between us, as well. Surprisingly, the change was not alienation or a growing apart; in fact, we found we felt closer to each other than we had in a long time. It was difficult to articulate the reasons why – that would not happen until September, 2007 – but we both felt that the change was good. Strange, but good. One of the reasons I did not write another chapter of this Diary was that while I knew things were different, I could not explain what made them different. But we both knew they were. Move ahead to September, 2007 – exactly one month ago today. With changes in everyone's schedules, we did this date differently. Rather than driving 90 minutes in the morning, seeing Ted and driving home, Sally and I chose to set out the evening before their date and actually SLEEP in the hotel (who knew you were allowed to do that?). Since Ted would be coming over around 11 a.m., we also decided that I would go out and pick up lunch for all of us to eat in the suite, rather than heading out to a restaurant. So first thing in the morning, while Sally showered and prepared for her lover, I ran over to Wegman's and picked up some of their healthy, ready-to-eat salads. The unexpected result being that now I can't walk through the supermarket without getting a hard-on. Ted got stuck in traffic and arrived late, so he and Sally skipped their customary courtesy of sitting and chatting with me in the suite's living room, and instead went straight to bed. They closed and locked the door behind them, I dutifully took my place on a chair right outside the door, and they had sex while my hand and I listened. (See a previous chapter, entitled, "Click," for the genesis of my being locked out while they make love.) I said there is not a lot of sex in this story, because all I know of their lovemaking is the moaning and groaning I heard through the door – hardly enough to create an exciting description here. But one thing did stand out: in the middle of all the moaning and groaning I heard Ted cry out, "OH.... MY.... GOD!!", followed by the bouncing-on-the-bed sounds which Sally's body makes when she cums. I knew Ted always gets excited when he feels her cum in his arms, but somehow this was different. I filed away the question in my mind, and continued to jerk off as the bedroom grew silent. A while later, Sally and Ted emerged for lunch. Ted had thrown on his shirt, buttoning a couple of buttons, and as he walked his soft cock peeked out from underneath his shirttails. Sally had grabbed a fleece jacket and zipped it only halfway, her breathtaking décolletage emphasizing the fact that she was not wearing a bra underneath – or anything underneath that. They sat down at the table and I served lunch, sitting with them and trying to eat as if I were not in the presence of my half-naked wife and her half-naked lover. As we ate, a curious thought crossed my mind: MY WIFE had put on clothing because I was going to see her! She did not have a second thought about being naked with THAT MAN, but her sense of propriety demanded that she cover up before having lunch with ME. I was only partly done digesting that thought when Ted gave me something even more intense to chew on. He said that when they were fucking (he said that so casually – did he not know he was telling me about his fucking my wife???), Sally reached over and grabbed her vibrator, put it on her clit, and in less than two minutes was cumming on his cock. I was in the middle of chewing, and suddenly the salad felt like sand in my mouth. Sally NEVER cums from fucking, or while fucking; I think it happened two or three times in her entire life. She loves to be fucked, but her orgasms require the proverbial "direct clitoral stimulation," usually for a good 10 to 15 minutes, so whoever is making love to her usually helps her along with kissing, sucking, etc. I've tried for years, and her two serious lovers have, too, but they hardly ever succeeded, and I never did. Yet here was Ted, sitting half-dressed with my half-dressed wife, telling me she came quickly and with him inside her. "It was the most amazing thing," he continued. "Right before she came, all the muscles in her pussy contracted on me. Then she let go and had a HUGE orgasm. I tried to hold back, but once she started to cum I couldn't last any longer and I came in her." I knew about that "amazing thing." I have felt it when I fingered Sally until she came. I know how she tightens up – so much that she squeezes the blood out of my finger. But this man sitting contentedly by her side had just felt it with his penis. And now I understood what had happened when "OH.... MY.... GOD!!" echoed through their bedroom. I felt a little sick, and very excited. Not that I had any doubt what had gone on behind the closed door, but here was my wife's lover describing the most intimate, INTERNAL functioning of her body. Her pussy. Which she gave to him. And not to me. When lunch was over, Ted took Sally's hand and led her back to "their" bedroom. As soon as she entered the room – even before he could reach around to close the door – she slid her jacket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I got a momentary glimpse of her naked back and ass before the door clicked shut, but that image burned into my mind: the jacket really WAS for me; as soon as she was alone with her lover she wanted to be naked again. Once again I listened as they fucked, and this time they took turns cumming. Somehow, that was less difficult to handle than their simultaneous, ground-breaking (and –shaking) orgasms. When they were finished and had talked, cuddled and scheduled their next date, they got dressed and came out to the living room. Time was short, so I quickly pulled on my own clothing and we left together, without much time for post-coital conversation. Sally was quiet on the drive home, and had to go to work after that, so it was late evening before we were home together and able to talk. THE FIRST CONVERSATION She poured each of us a big drink and we got comfortable on the couch. She looked at me with an intensely serious look and said, "Do you REALLY want to know why I am okay with having sex with Ted and not with you?" My heart jumped into my throat, and I weakly said, "Yes." "Are you SURE? I'm not joking, and if you want the truth I am ready to tell you, but it is going to hurt." Now, Sally is not big on hurting me. Yes, she has a lover, and yes, she's happy to lock me out of the bedroom when they are together, but overtly hurting me is not something my Good Girl is comfortable doing. So whatever she was about to say, I knew it would be pretty mild. I knew wrong. My wife of 24 years, mother of our children, my life partner, took a big swig of her drink, paused for a thoughtful sigh, and said, "You have been a tremendous disappointment to me sexually ever since we met. I love you, but sex with you is uninspired, unexciting, predictable and boring. I knew it from the beginning, but once I met Ted, and then Ty, I found out what I was missing. You don't TRY, Paul; you do the same damn thing every time, and leave it to me to get off on it. Ted is always trying something new, always in a new position, always experimenting. And I love him experimenting on me. He EXCITES me, Paul. And you don't. You never did. So I'm really okay with waiting for my dates with Ted to have sex. And I'm really okay with not having sex with you. I can't say it will be forever, but it is for now." I couldn't breathe. I never, ever expected to hear such painful words from my wife, and I never, ever suspected that what she said had been true since we met. I knew I wasn't a stud, but "a tremendous disappointment"? I studied her face for signs of discomfort with what she had just said, but there were none. We sat together for what seemed like hours, then I asked her if she still loved me. "Absolutely. You are my partner in life, and we're in this together. You're just not going to be in ME when we're together." "May I kiss you?" I asked with genuine concern. "Always. I love kissing you," she answered with the same absolute honesty that had just brought my self-esteem crashing down around me. We kissed and cuddled there on the couch for nearly an hour. Then I said, "I'm going downstairs for a while," not certain if the day's revelation and the evening's closeness would bring a change in her response. "Have a good time. Think about me," she answered. Just as she had done for the past 10 months. I went downstairs and looked through old pictures of Ted and Sally fucking. I found one where I could clearly see his penis inside her body, and thought about how it felt to both of them when they came together in that position. Then Sally's words, "You have been a tremendous disappointment to me sexually ever since we met," echoed through my brain, and I came so hard I nearly passed out. When I entered our bedroom I found my wife sleeping soundly, a contented smile on her face. And I wondered: was the smile for the great day of sex, or relief that she had finally told me the truth? The next month passed uneventfully – literally. A few times a week Sally would ask me to help her cum with her vibrator, and I would think about Ted seeing everything I was seeing while I played with her. Surprisingly, a few times she told me to leave the bedroom so she could masturbate alone; I know she does that on her own, but she had never before refused my help when I was around. I asked her why, and she said, "Sometimes you just get in the way." I thought she was just joking, so I tried to blow it off, but she got serious and said, "I mean it. You're clumsy, and sometimes I just want to think about Ted and not be distracted by you. So go away; I'll call you when I'm done." As I sulked toward the door, she reached out her arm to me. I took her hand, and she drew me toward her. She kissed me deeply, held me close to her and said, "I love you very, very much. You're not good at sex, but you are my partner in everything else. Now go have a good time while I make myself cum without you." With those few, loving words, I went downstairs and jerked off. I was a very happy cuckold. NOVEMBER Yesterday was the day we would drive to the hotel to prepare for today's date. Sally left home earlier than usual; when I got up I called her, and she said she decided to get her nails done – fingers and toes – for Ted. I was amazed at how strong a reaction that created in me, and I was hard in an instant. (The fact that I hadn't cum in two days helped, too; I always keep from cumming for three days before they meet, as the horniness helps me deal with the most difficult parts of being a cuckold.) I am still taken aback when my wife does things on her own to prepare for another man; I keep thinking my Good Girl doesn't act that way, and actually, I am right. But Ted's Bad Girl certainly does! We – Sally, her new nail polish and I – left home around 9:30 that night. We drove for 90 minutes, talking about normal things. It had been a long day, and we needed time to unwind. We checked into the hotel, went for a drink at the bar and relaxed together. Just like any other couple getting away for an overnight together, waiting for the wife's lover to arrive the next morning. Ted arrived at 10 am, right on time. This time there was no hurry, so we did get to sit and talk together. He and Sally sat on the couch, and he put his arm around her the moment they sat down. I was in the chair facing them – my "normal" place. They talked about work, politics and the weather in their own, comfortable way: no pressure, no falseness, no straining to find what to say. After a few minutes Sally began to trace her fingers along Ted's leg, finally finding her way to his crotch. I watched their faces as they continued to chat and Sally's fingers worked their magic on him. After 9 ½ years of being cuckolded, I still cannot find the right words to describe what it feels like to be in the room when Sally and Ted meet each time. Their conversation in the living room is so damn ordinary – exactly what friends would talk about when they hadn't seen each other in a month – that I want to scream, "Am I the only one who realizes that you two are about to FUCK?" Of course, I don't say that. And of course, they DO realize it. They just are not in a hurry and besides, they are not alone; they save their passion for the bedroom. I look at Sally's fingers tracing lines along Ted's leg and across his cock. My eyes are drawn to the new nail polish, as I remember that she had her nails done for him. I remember that her toenails are done, too, and that he will see them very soon. And I remember that any minute now they will get up and go to bed, leaving me with nothing to look at but the closed bedroom door, so I try to memorize everything: their bodies close together, the look in their eyes, the position of arms and legs and breasts and cock. I will need those memories soon enough. Once Sally reached his penis, I knew their time in the living room was short. Ted actually managed to keep up the conversation as she stroked him, until finally she said, "I think we've been polite long enough. I want to be alone with you now." He did not argue. They stood together, and I saw his cock tenting his pants. I think I gasped out loud as I looked at the erection which was about to be inside my wife, but they did not stay around long enough to notice or to comment. Ted wrapped his arm around my wife's waist, away they went, and I heard the bedroom door click shut. For the next two hours Sally and Ted made love, talked, rested and made love again. I heard it all as I sat on my chair outside their bedroom door: clothing coming off, bed moving under them, moans and groans and sighs and gasps as they shared the intimacy which my wife saves for him. As I have said before, the feeling of sitting alone on a chair and jerking off while listening to Ted cum – loudly – in my wife is something which only a cuckold can understand and which no one can describe. I am ashamed at what I look like, even though no one is looking. And I am even more ashamed that I am excited by my shame. The result is a vortex which comes over me like a tornado as I hear my loving wife draw his orgasm out of him, and it is all I can do to keep from cumming and ruining the moment for all of us. Instead, I bite my lip and masturbate furiously until he is finished cumming, and then I start all over again as I hear Sally's vibrator begin to buzz. Is it more difficult – or more exciting, I don't know which question to ask – to hear Ted cum in Sally, or to hear Sally cum with Ted? I have been wondering about this since they began, and my only answer is that I am such a drooling idiot of horniness and humiliation while this is going on that it would be impossible to tell. I do know that as this year of denial has progressed, the thought that my wife is sharing herself with him in ways she does not want to share with me has brought a level of embarrassment which I never imagined. If she did not want sex, I could sit back and bemoan my fate as the husband of a frigid woman. But her cries of pleasure make it excruciatingly clear that, as she told me, she LOVES sex. She just does not love sex with me. It's true. I know it. She knows it. Ted knows it. And, unbeknown to me as I sat outside their door today, that is what they talked about between the times they made love. A little while after they finished making love the second time, the bedroom door opened and Sally emerged, wearing my pajama top. She looked at my hard cock as I jerked off on the chair by their door, smiled and said, "I haven't seen that in a while. Why don't you stop and get lunch ready for us?", and made her way to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up and got up, wearing just my polo shirt. I took the salads and drinks from the refrigerator and laid everything out on the small table in the dining area. Ted came out wearing his shirt, with his very-satisfied penis once again showing from time to time as he walked. Since none of us was wearing anything but a shirt, I put towels on each chair and we sat down to have lunch. Once again, the conversation was remarkable only for its unremarkableness; just what you would hear any time three friends got together for a meal. The memory of the sounds they made and the frustration at not having seen any of it made it hard for me to eat, but I kept up a good façade, hoping the talk would turn to something – anything – sexual. But it never did. When lunch was over Ted excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Sally prepared to go back to bed. I stopped her and asked if I could see something – something sexual. She asked what I had in mind, and I said I would really like to see him touching her and her touching him, even if only for a minute. She said that would be fine. When Ted came out of the bathroom and headed across the hall, Sally motioned for me to follow them. As they neared the bed, she slipped my (!) pajama top off and unbuttoned his shirt. "Paul wants to watch us for just a minute," she explained. Ted didn't hesitate: he put his face between my wife's breasts and began sucking on her nipples. She reached down and stroked his cock, and my mind reeled with the stark reality of what I saw. A million thoughts raced past each other: "my wife is naked; he sees my wife's body; her breasts are in his hands; her nipples are in his mouth; she is stroking that man's penis; he wants her; she wants him..." and when she dismissed me with a wave of her hand, telling me to get out of their bedroom, I added one more thought: "and she doesn't want me." A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 11 The lovers spent another hour together talking and cuddling, then Ted came out, dressed. While he washed his face I diplomatically retreated to the living room chair. For a moment I thought about putting my pants on, or at least pausing my masturbation, but that quickly passed; trying to maintain my dignity at this point was a lost cause. I thought Ted would say goodbye and head for the door, but he made himself comfortable on the couch opposite me. THE SECOND CONVERSATION "We had a WONDERFUL time," Ted began. "Sally is so passionate, so giving. At least, she is to me. We each came twice." He looked toward the ceiling, obviously remembering the details. "She was so wet and so excited. We were fucking the first time and she grabbed her vibe, and she got VERY close again and again, but fucking was breaking her concentration, so I pulled out and laid down beside her." I had been stroking myself as he spoke, but when she said "pulled out" I nearly lost it. He pulled out of MY WIFE... he pulled his penis out of her pussy, so he could lie beside her and help her cum! I jerked off like a madman, using all my willpower to keep from cumming as he told me about fucking my wife. "She came very quickly after that. The first time was much quicker than the second. But right after she came I got back on top of her and came in her." "Are you talking about the first time she came, or the second?" I gasped. "Both, actually," he answered with a smile. "You were on top each time you came?" He thought for a minute, replaying the sex in his mind. "Yes, I was. That position works best for us. The second time she got on top of me for a little while, but I rolled her over and put her legs up on my shoulders. That's the way I get deepest inside her, and I came like that." I was overwhelmed. "Us"?? He talks about my wife and him as "us"?? He's sitting there, as polite as ever but more smug than I remember, talking about what "works best for us"? Telling me how he maneuvers my wife's body so he can get his cock deepest inside her? Yes, he has talked about these things before, but something was different now, and I was about to find out what. "So, it's been 11 months since you had sex. Sally and I were talking about that. I think our once-a-month schedule is perfect, because it keeps it from getting too familiar. Every time is special for us. But I was wondering if it was enough for her, so I asked her if she was denying herself pleasure. She said she'd like more sex, but she can get herself off whenever she wants. And she said she's not missing anything by not having sex with you." He let that sink in, and it really did take a minute. Now I understood what was different: Sally had, for the first time, told him that she didn't want sex with me. Yes, he knew that we had gone nearly a year without it, but apparently he had thought she was just playing along with the cuckolding game. Now he knew that she was not playing a game at all. Whatever words she used this time, he left their bedroom knowing that my wife really didn't want sex with me. Only with him. And he was enjoying that knowledge tremendously. "I was thinking that I know what Sally looks like as well as you do," he continued, "and I know what she feels like better than you do. You haven't been inside her in almost a year – I bet you've forgotten what she feels like in there, haven't you?" I looked at him sitting there, dressed and satisfied and, for the first time, gloating over his relationship with my wife. I saw myself, too – hunched over in a chair, naked and masturbating and shaking while my wife's lover flaunted his intimacy with my wife. My humiliation was excruciating and I could barely speak, but at the same time I remembered that, on an earlier date, Ted had stopped talking with me and had left because, as he put it, "you were just a grunting, incoherent mess." And I knew, as surely as I knew anything, that I wanted this painful scene to continue. So I concentrated on the words and answered his question. "You're right, I have forgotten what she feels like. It's been so long – so very, very long – that I don't even know. All I know is how you sound when you cum, and it sounds SO good." "Oh my, it really is. It is so wonderful to be inside her, to cum in her. I'm sorry you miss out on it, but I guess the reward is mine." Trying to keep the conversation going, I said, "It was really exciting seeing the two of you touching each other. I had forgotten what that looked like, too." I thought this was a good opening for him to tell me about how much he loves my wife's tits, or how good it feels when she strokes his cock. Instead, what he said landed on me like a ton of bricks. "I wanted to talk to you about that. I was very surprised that you asked to see us together. I thought you were past that." "What do you mean, past that?" I asked in complete surprise. "Watching is about a threesome: Sally and me and you. I thought you understood that we are not a threesome anymore. We are a couple: Sally and me. I was surprised that you asked to be included, because I thought you understood that you're not included anymore." I looked at him, searching for a hint of a smile. There was none. Nor was there the smallest sign of discomfort at what he said. What I saw was concern... or, more accurately, pity. My wife's lover wanted to help me understand that I had disappointed him by thinking that I was entitled to see sex. Not to HAVE sex; that had been taken away nearly a year ago. But to SEE it: to share in one, small way in sex between a woman and a man – between my wife and her lover. I saw him searching for the right words to help me know my place; to know that when my wife is having sex, my place is outside the bedroom door, with the door securely closed between us. At that moment, the realization came over me. Sitting naked in front of Ted, masturbating and harder than I ever was in my life, listening to his description of making love with my wife and his gentle lecture on how I had crossed a boundary which I was not entitled to cross, I suddenly knew that I had found what I was born to be. I was a cuckold. In every sense of the word, in the cold, harsh reality of the sunlight streaming through a hotel window and illuminating the scene of a lover lecturing a cuckold about proper behavior, I was where I was supposed to be. At the same time that I wanted to melt into the upholstery in shame over what he was saying and how I was responding, I also knew that there was only one thing to say. "You're right, Ted. I'm sorry. I really wanted to see sex, and it was very exciting to see you two touching each other, but it isn't my place. I know I'll want to see it again, but I promise I'll do my best to keep quiet and to stay out of your private time." Ted smiled a genuine smile. "Thank you," he said. "I'm very glad to hear that, and I appreciate it. It will make it better for all of us next time." With that he got up and headed toward the door. At the door he turned to me and added, "Sally and I made a date for November 20th. It works perfectly for us to celebrate your one-year anniversary." I shuddered intensely. "I'm really glad. I hope it is a great day for both of you. And thank you for taking such good care of my wife," I called after him. He turned toward me, smiled again and said, "It was my pleasure. She deserves everything I share with her." And he left. Sally slept for another half hour, then I kissed her awake. She got out of bed, and I saw her naked as she reached for her clothes. She looked absolutely beautiful, and I wanted to reach for her, to touch her, to have sex with her right there and then. But she was quietly dressing, still reveling in the memories of her lover's touch. She was there, but not THERE. More accurately, she was there – but not there for me. When she was dressed we hugged tightly and said we loved each other. In the car on the way home, she asked me if I had had a good time. "I'm a cuckold," I said, trying not to drop my entire revelation on her all at once. "I know," she answered with a smile. "No, I mean I really AM a cuckold. I was meant to be one. I don't belong in your bed when you are making love; I belong outside the door." I looked toward her, hoping I had not upset her. "I know," she answered. "I like that. And I can't wait for November 20th." A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 12 Chapter 12: Our 25th Anniversary February, 2008 SPECIAL LITEROTICA FORWARD: Critics of my Diary on Literotica have asked why I post in the Loving Wives section. There are two reasons: 1) There is no Cuckolding section, and 2) Sally truly IS a loving wife. I asked her to cuckold me for 15 YEARS, and when she finally tried it, we discovered that we BOTH loved it. We have been exploring this relationship since 1998, and we are happier than we were in all the pre-cuckolding years. And for those who say I'm a wimp (or worse) for staying around to be her "meal ticket," please know that each of us earns a salary sufficient for ALL our needs. Our relationship is one of equals... except in bed! So once again, if a story about a wife cuckolding her husband will bother you, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS. If you read it anyway, and then you write that it bothers you, well... I got nothin. If you LIKE what I write, then please vote - either before or after you clean up :-) Sincerely, Cuckold Paul OUR 25TH ANNIVERSARY It has been a while since I have written a chapter of my Cuckold's Diary, but not for lack of fun. My wife, Sally, and her lover, Ted, have seen each other about once a month and we have settled into a comfortable, exciting relationship. Each of us knows our place, and each of us is satisfied with what we are doing. What more could anyone ask of life? In March, 2008, Sally and I will celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. In April, Sally and Ted will celebrate their 10th anniversary as sex partners. The two events will be celebrated quite differently, since Sally loves me, but only has sex with him. The last time Sally touched me sexually was November 20, 2006, and one of the questions in my mind was what she would want to do as our anniversary approached. Last week, I got my answer. Last Monday evening, we finished work and drove to the hotel where we always meet Ted. We stopped at Wegman's for a late-night snack and I bought lunch for the three of us for the following day. Then, after checking in, Sally and I went to the hotel bar. Since Ted joins us around 9 a.m. and stays until mid-afternoon, we have the night before as a date for just the two of us. A date which will NOT end with sex, but a date nonetheless. We talked about work, unwound from the day, and then we talked about sex. I mentioned to Sally that I see her get so excited when she is going to bed with Ted, and that excitement is completely missing when she accepts my offer to help her cum at home with her vibrator. She thought about it and said I was right: she could take it or leave it when she lets me play with her, but as soon as she sees Ted, she wants him in her bed and in her body. I asked if she knew why she didn't get excited when I offer, especially since I always make her cum, and she responded, "There's nothing exciting about sex with you. I can cum by myself just as easily – sometimes more easily. You don't turn me on, and oh my God HE turns me on. So, what's to get excited about with you?" I looked at her face and saw no guile, no discomfort and no play-acting. Just relaxed, honest conversation between a wife and husband who have known each other a long time, who have gone through a lot together, and who have agreed that he is a cuckold. I went to sleep with an erection which Sally easily ignored. She was getting ready for her date in the morning. Ted arrived around 9:30 a.m. There was freezing rain all over the area, but his only concern was being late for his girlfriend. We sat together in our suite's living room for a half an hour, chatting about life, business and everything other than what was about to happen. Finally, Sally had had enough; she turned to him and said, "It's time for us to go to bed." Ted did not need to be asked twice, and the two of them went hand in hand toward the bedroom. I waited until I heard the bedroom door click shut, then I stripped off my pants and underwear and headed for the hallway outside the bedroom. Sitting on a chair right outside their door, I knew what the sounds from the bedroom would tell me: They would get undressed, moan a little as they explored each other's body, they would fuck until Ted came, and then the vibrator would start up as Ted helped Sally to cum. That was their pattern, and there was a strange comfort for me in knowing what would happen next. But it did not happen that way at all. Yes, I heard the sounds of kissing followed by the various unbuttoning, unhooking and unzipping of their clothing. But the moans of pleasure which came next seemed very loud – as if they were standing right behind the bedroom door. And the sound of Sally's vibrator starting up right away was both out of sequence and startlingly loud, as was the gasp which I know my wife only makes when a man first slides his penis into her. What the hell was going on in there? That night, Sally would tell me that as soon as they were undressed Ted brought her to the side of the bed closest to the door, turned on her vibrator and handed it to her, and the moment she touched her clit with it he stood between her legs, held them apart and started fucking her. They were no more than three feet from me; her lover holding her naked thighs while he stood beside the bed and fucked my wife. But all I knew at the time was that the sounds were not in the proper order, they were louder than ever and... they were mutual. For every gasp that Ted made, Sally responded with one of her own. As his got louder and more rapid, so did hers. In the past they had always, in Ted's words, "Taken turns making each other cum," so all the sex noises I heard this time left me puzzled and hard as a rock. Suddenly, quiet. Only the buzzing of my wife's vibrator led me to believe that they were not done, but all the moaning and moving stopped as if they were holding their breath. Of course, that is exactly what they were doing; it is what Sally always does when she is about to cum. I realized that was what was happening only when I heard my wife cry out with a huge orgasm, followed just seconds later by Ted cumming just as hard. Sally has only cum a few times in her life while fucking – all of them with Ted – and the realization that each of them was feeling something I have never felt filled me with sorrow and loneliness as it drove me to the edge of an orgasm. I fought back the urge to cum, knowing that my horniness is the only thing that makes it possible for me to enjoy the erotic humiliation of being cuckolded, and knowing that my wife's simultaneous orgasm with her lover would require all the horniness I could muster. Their cries of pleasure went on for a long time, gradually subsiding into gentle moans and occasional gasps. I pictured him still inside her, softening in the afterglow of his orgasm and occasionally receiving – and giving – little aftershocks of cumming as the last of his semen dripped into her womb. Then I heard the sounds of them moving around, and the sheet being moved. Again, only later would I learn that after Ted got soft and slipped out of Sally's pussy, he got in bed with her and cuddled for the next hour. That resting-up time is always difficult for me, and I was suddenly very glad I had resisted the incredibly strong urge to cum. Without the sounds of sex coming from inside the bedroom, and with their conversation muffled sufficiently for me to be unable to make out what they are saying, that time is lonely, frustrating and humiliating for me. I passed the time thinking about what I had heard, about how "that man" made my wife cum just as he came, and how they each enjoyed their own pleasure coupled – literally – with the pleasure they felt in their partner at the same moment. I replayed their moaning, their gasping and that pregnant (!?) silence which preceded their orgasms. I thought of what it must feel like to cum in my wife, as more than half a year ago I gave up trying to remember what it felt like the last time Sally let me cum in her. I sat in the hallway and stroked my penis, recognizing that no one else would ever touch it; no one else would ever make it feel like my wife made Tom's penis feel just moments ago. Quiet conversation turned into kissing, which turned into gasps of breath, which turned into moans again. Then Sally's quick intake of breath, announcing to anyone listening that her lover's sex organ had just entered her body again. This time, at least, was a "traditional" fuck (disregarding the obvious exception that the wife's husband was locked out and the wife was loudly and publicly fucking another man) – Ted got excited, he started to pant, and then he let out a constricted, desperate bleat, "I'm cumming!" Sally gasped out encouragement to him, and she kissed him as he squirted his semen into her. Then it was her turn, and soon after the vibrator started up, I heard her whimper and the mattress beat rhythmically, as it always does when her body launches upward and downward during her orgasm. Shortly after their second time making love, I heard Sally say, "I'm hungry. Let's have lunch and say hi." She emerged first, wearing the beautiful, mostly-sheer robe she had worn the night before. It was open in the front, so her skin was exposed in a line from her neck to her pubic hair. What was covered by the robe was BARELY covered; her nipples stuck out proudly through the see-through material, and the parts of her breasts that were not exposed completely were still semi-visible through the robe. My first reaction upon seeing her was – I swear – to say, "Cover yourself up, we're not alone here." Goes to show how powerful denial is: I KNEW they had just been fucking, I KNEW they had taken off everything they were wearing as soon as they closed the bedroom door, but since I had not seen it with my own eyes, there was a part of me which refused to believe that my wife would expose herself to another man! As quickly as I had the "cover yourself" thought, I had a crushing revelation: if she had covered herself at all, it was for ME. Ted had already seen everything – even things I have not seen in a long, long time – and the robe was for the sake of propriety when they ("they" being the loving couple, not the husband and wife) made a public appearance. It was one of those moments which took my breath away, as I came face to face with the fact of my cuckolding. All of those thoughts happened in the space of a second. As she walked by me she smiled a smile of genuine happiness and said, "Two times each. So far." If you have read my Diary since the early days, you will understand how awesome it is to hear my Good Girl wife brag about how many times her lover made her cum, and how many times she made him cum. She was so pleased with herself! Speaking of face to face: after Sally walked by me on her way to the bathroom, Ted sat on the edge of the bed, facing me. He had put on his shirt but had not buttoned it, so it hung open on both sides. He started to tell me how exciting my wife is and what a good time they had, but honestly, I cannot remember a single word he said. I was completely focused – probably to the point of being rude – on his penis, which was hanging between his legs, still semi-hard, mocking me without a word being said. Here was the penis which just fucked my wife. Twice. Here was the penis which just came in my wife. Twice. Here was the penis which just ejaculated its semen into my wife, where it would swim around for the next two days or so. Here was the penis which brought Ted so much pleasure that I heard him cry out in ecstasy. Twice. As he talked, it bobbed slightly up and down. Staring at the head, I thought about how that is the most sensitive part and how this man had just slid it into my wife so she could get him off. No shame on his part, no apology, no explanation: After fucking my wife three feet away from me, he sat there and chatted with me as if it were my job to just sit there and not object, or stop him, or attack him. Of course, he was right. I was not going to do any of those things, because there was one other thought which rushed through me as I stared at his naked penis: Here was the ONE penis my wife wants to touch, and kiss, and have inside her. The ONLY one. She doesn't want mine, she doesn't get wet for mine, she doesn't touch mine. Only THIS one. The one that makes her smile. So I sat on my little rolling seat, masturbating like a madman, while Sally's lover – legs spread, penis pointing to the floor just in front of me – chatted with me about how great my wife is in bed. Now, a week later, I wish I could get the image of his cock out of my mind. But it won't go away. And Sally keeps telling me how much she misses it. When they sat down to lunch, I dutifully served their salads and drinks. But I realized I could not eat. My stomach was in a knot, and there was no way I could put food into it. Besides, I needed – not wanted, but NEEDED – to keep masturbating. I don't know whether it was my overwhelming excitement or my overwhelming shame, but either way I felt I could not let go of my cock long enough to take even a single bite. I asked if they would mind if I sat in the corner and kept jerking off; Sally laughed and said, "Knock yourself out." They ate lunch and talked about all sorts of everyday things. You would never know they were lovers unless you noticed Sally's nipples poking through her robe or saw that Ted we wearing a shirt but nothing else. And you would never know that Sally was cuckolding her husband unless you noticed me, sitting naked in the corner, masturbating every time they touched each other's hand or just closed their eyes to savor their time together. By late afternoon I would have a splitting headache from not eating, but for the time being I was lucky I remembered to breathe every once in a while. After lunch they got up from the table and returned to their bedroom without so much as a word for me. I was able to listen as they fucked again and Sally came again with her vibrator, but the morning's passion had given way to afternoon mellowness for both of them. Not long after Sally's body beat against the mattress in her third orgasm, I heard them getting out of bed and dressing. Not wanting to be too intrusive, I returned to the chair in the living room, though I was still unable to give up masturbating. Ted emerged, washed his hands and face, and came out to get his briefcase to leave. Seeing me in the corner, he smiled and sat down on the couch opposite me. He didn't have long, he explained, but he did want me to know that he had a WONDERFUL time with my wife and hoped to see her again soon. "It's so hard to wait a whole month before feeling her charms again," he said. Then, realizing whom he was talking to he added, "But of course, you know that, don't you?" I grunted that I did, and I asked him about their simultaneous orgasms. "That was an unexpected surprise for both of us. When we got undressed I just HAD to be inside her, so I stood next to the bed, held her thighs apart, and started fucking her. She grabbed her vibe and started playing with herself, and we both got lost in what was happening. From where I was standing I could see her whole body naked and open in front of me, and the position gave me access deep inside her. I was just having a wonderful time fucking her when she got VERY excited VERY quickly, and then she came. As soon as her marvelous body started contracting around me, it was impossible for me not to cum. You know that feeling... "Oh, wait. No, you don't, do you? Has she ever cum with you inside her?" I managed to squeak out a tiny "no" as the humiliation flooded over me. "That IS too bad. It is an incredible feeling. But so is everything else we do together, so thank you for bringing her to me again. You know, we both really do appreciate all you do to make it possible for us to be together." As if on cue, Sally walked out of the bedroom, stood beside Ted and he put his arm around her waist. Yet another unexpected event as Sally, whether out of politeness or Good Girl modesty, has always stayed in the bedroom while Ted talked to me after their dates. She knows he tells me what happened, and she knows he goes into the kind of gynecological detail which gets me off, so that has always been 10 minutes or so which she would use to dress or put on makeup or take a quick nap. But now she stood beside him – both completely dressed, lovers arm in arm, while her husband sat naked in a chair in the corner, masturbating and on the edge of cumming. Sally thanked Ted for a wonderful day, and they took out their calendars to schedule their next date. Perfectly normal conversation between lovers who had satisfied each other and who were basking in the afterglow of a good time and great sex. From time to time I would groan or shudder and my wife of 25 years would look at me, pull Ted closer, and giggle. When they were done with their calendars and kissed each other goodbye, Sally told me to "put that away; it's time to leave." The ride home was quiet and nice. Sally thanked me for letting her have a lover, and from time to time she made comments about sex, or cumming, or cuckolding me. But we left the details for later, when I could concentrate without driving off the road. When we got home we each had to head to work, so Sally said goodbye to me with a kiss on the cheek and a reminder: "When you see me tonight, his sperm will still be swimming inside me." Those words, and the smile on her face when she said them, kept me horny all evening. Of course, the fact that I had not cum in three days and had just witnessed my own cuckolding helped a little, too. At home that night, we each got a drink and sat together on the couch. We talked about the work part of our day, and then the conversation turned to the date. Sally described how exciting it was to have Ted stand next to the bed and fuck her, which he had never done before, and how the anticipation and the position and feeling him inside her had pushed her over the edge so quickly. She said she loved cumming with him inside her, and added it was just one of the things which she always missed when she and I had sex. The rest of the conversation focused on the things he does that I never did, the way she feels that I never made her feel, and his incredible skill at lovemaking which I lack completely. As she landed blow after blow on my ego (I was not masturbating as we talked, so there was nothing to shield me from the sting of her words, although they did give me an incredible hardon), I looked at her face to see if she was playing a game or saying what she thought she was supposed to say for me. But there was nothing of that: she spoke honestly, openly and yes, lovingly to me as she told me about her date. There was just one more question which I had to ask, and I waited until she was done with her story before bringing it up. As I said at the beginning of this story, the week after that date marked our 25th wedding anniversary. It is unbelievable to both of us that we have known each other so long, and that our wedding actually took place a quarter-century ago. We have been reminiscing for the past few weeks; we have a small celebration planned for our anniversary day and a larger one this summer. Several weeks ago, Sally said that she wanted to reserve the right to have sex with me if she ever wanted to; the subject came up out of nowhere, and it surprised me when she said it, but I said the choice was always hers. She did not bring it up again, but I had a suspicion that her focus was on our anniversary day. If ever there was a reason for us to have sex again, they don't come much more monumental than a 25th anniversary! So after she finished telling me all about her date with her lover, I took Sally's hand, held it gently, and asked, "What do you want to do next week?" A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 12 "About what?" she asked, clearly not getting my subtle reference. "About our anniversary, and sex." "I really don't know," she replied. "Well, what do you WANT?" I asked. It was strange to feel that she had all the power in this conversation, but it felt good, too. "What I WANT is for you to make me feel the way Ted does in bed." So much for feeling good. I sat there in silence, holding her hand but not having any idea what to say next. "But since you can't," she finally continued, "I don't want to do anything. I'm looking forward to our anniversary, and I don't want to ruin it with bad sex. Okay?" I wish you could have seen her face when she said that. For years we have strived to be honest with each other; it is how our marriage has survived and even thrived. Right there, sitting on our couch as we talked about our 25th anniversary and her lover's sperm swam inside her body, my wife was completely, totally, absolutely honest with me. And today, as I finish this story on our anniversary day, I know that writing about this is the only sexual stimulation I will get. It has been one year, 3 months and 16 days since my wife has touched me in a sexual way, and if she didn't change her mind today there is very little chance she will change it any time soon. I have always thought that a successful cuckold marriage requires two people who love each other deeply, are fully committed to each other, and who understand that sexual satisfaction will be found in one partner's pleasure and the other's pain. Others may disagree with my description, but that day's events and that night's conversation confirmed what I believe and made me grateful that I am married to such a beautiful, loving, cuckolding wife. Oh, and yesterday she started something new in honor of our anniversary. When she holds me she says, "I love almost all of you." Comments welcome. Flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 13 Chapter 13 "A Letter to My Wife's Lover" Summer 2008 FORWARD: My wife Sally and I are HAPPILY married. Cuckolding has been a wonderful addition to our relationship, giving each of us what we need (and have always needed) sexually. We have an open communication, a loving relationship, and every sexual fantasy I have is about my wife. How many other men, married more than a quarter-century, can say that? A note to Literotica readers: Many of you seem to have a need to hurt yourselves by reading things that upset you. That's your choice, of course. But may I ask you to refrain from commenting on how offended you are that I wrote about cuckolding? I'm telling you up front that this is what the story is about... so I respectfully request that you not write how shocked you are when it is. Please? Thank you in advance. Cuckold Paul Dear Ted, Since you and Sally have a date this coming Tuesday, I thought I'd bring you up to date on events around here. After your last date in May, Sally said she wanted to have sex with me. Since it has been a year and a half since she even touched me sexually, I was surprised, to say the least. It was coincidence, I am sure, but the night she chose was May 20th – exactly 1 1/2 years to the day since we last had sex. I decided that if my wife wanted to have sex with me, I would do my best to be better at it than I have been before. You always tell me how wet she is for you, and from the little I see of the time you spend together I can tell that she is really hot for you any time you get together. I figured I would see if I could get her to feel that way about me, too, so I tried to do what I saw you do years ago when I was allowed to watch you fuck her, and what she tells me she loves after your dates. I began by playing with her with her vibrator. Instead of just lying beside her and sucking on her nipple, I tried to move around – to touch her, kiss her, make love to her all over. She enjoyed it for a while, then she pushed me back into my usual place and told me to concentrate on her nipple. Eventually she had a pretty big orgasm, and I held her through all her "aftershocks." After that she went down on me. I don't need to tell you how it felt, since you always rave about how good it feels when she does that with you. But it had been a long, long time since I felt a woman's touch, and I really loved it. Then she invited me inside her. I checked with my finger to see if she was wet - you know, as she is with you – but she was not, so I used Vaseline to get myself ready for her. Ted, you know how I have told you that I've forgotten what it feels like to fuck her? I wasn't lying, or even exaggerating. It felt SOOO good to slide into her! She was very animated while we fucked, and clearly did everything she could to make me feel good. When I came, it felt better than anything I have felt in a year and a half; at that moment I truly realized what I had been missing for all that time. We cuddled for a long time afterward, and Sally said she wanted to keep having sex with me after that night. I told her the decision was hers, and I asked her if she was still looking forward to seeing you again. "Oh, YES!" was her reply. Since May 20th, she said many times that she wanted to have sex with me again before your date. I always said I was ready, but "things" always seemed to come up to prevent it. Sometimes they were major things, like not feeling well; sometimes they were minor, like being tired at the end of the day. I kept asking her if she really WANTED to have sex, and she kept saying yes... but "things" kept getting in the way. Last night – four days before your date – I finally sat her down to talk. I asked her what was going on – why she kept saying one thing, but doing another. What it came down to was, did she really WANT to have sex with me? Her first answer was that she thought sex would bring us closer. Then she said the thought of never having sex with me again was strange. I asked her if she felt closer to me during the two weeks she was promising sex but not having it, and she said no – she felt farther apart from me than she had in a long time. So I asked her if she had noticed that her answers never mentioned being excited at the thought of having sex with me, and I asked her, flat out, if thinking about sex with me excited her. She answered immediately: "Not at all." Then I asked her if thinking about sex with YOU excited her. "Oh, yes!" was her equally fast response. We spent the next hour talking about how we could stay close without having sex, and we realized that as we spoke we held each other tighter and tighter. It turns out that pretending she wanted to have sex with me was very, very difficult for her, and sensing that she wasn't telling me the truth was just as tough for me. As soon as we dropped the pretenses, we both felt good again. So, Ted, when you see my wife on Tuesday I hope you will enjoy the thought that she really tried to have sex with me, but only wants you. I hope you will remember that I worked harder than I ever have to turn her on, but could not do what you do to her the moment you walk into the bedroom. And I hope you appreciate that she would rather wait as long as it takes to see you than to have sex with me, her husband. As for me, I won't ever forget that one night she had sex with me. Now, when I hear her make you groan with pleasure I will have a new sense of what you are feeling. When you and she lock the door behind you and leave me sitting by myself I will have a new emptiness knowing I won't feel it again for a long, long time. And when you talk with me I will have a new sense of shame knowing how relieved my wife is that she doesn't need to pretend she wants me inside her. She only wants you. You win, Ted. I lose. The pleasure only you give her and the pleasure she gives only you are the prize. She bought a new bra and new panties for your date on Tuesday, and she said she wants to see you more often this summer. Sincerely, Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 14 This letter to my wife was an attempt to put our relationship into an understandable context. There's no SEX in it, so if you just want to get off, save yourself some time. Hope you enjoy! Cuckold Paul ***** This is not how we got to the place we are at now. A lot more time, exploration, stress, disappointment, love and commitment to working things out went into the equation. But play along... it might help everyone understand. Imagine this: go back to your pre-married days. You meet a great guy -- bright, funny, interesting to be with. You start dating, and all is well... until you go to bed. What you discover is that while he is bright, funny and interesting to be with, he doesn't turn you on when you have sex with him. Nothing horrible, nothing offensive; he just doesn't turn you on. After a few attempts you find yourself making excuses to avoid sex when you go on a date: your family's home, you're tired, you have a lot on your mind. You feel bad when you see him walk away frustrated at the end of a date, and you try to compensate by making sure he has a great time when you're out together. You even give in once in a while and take him to bed, though each time just convinces you more and more that this isn't working. Maybe it's you, you wonder. You thought you'd had good sex before, but as time passes you imagine that you just don't like sex that much. But you really like the guy. Then a friend introduces you to another man. Not your type at all, and your first reaction is to decline his offer of a date. But the strangest thing happens when you go out with him: you find yourself getting turned on, getting wet. You can't even say why, but you want this man inside you. By your second date he's in your bed, and in you, and you feel wonderful. You had forgotten that sex could feel this way. You had forgotten that you could feel this way. Whatever he does, you love it. And you make sure he loves it, too. Afterward, you wonder: Is there any chance my boyfriend would understand that I love him, but don't want to make love with him? And if he could find a way to accept that idea, what are the chances that he would also understand that once in a while I just need to be fucked by someone good at it? After a long, romantic evening, you and your boyfriend are alone. You kiss -- actually, you love kissing him -- and he's worked his hand into your shirt and is caressing your breast. You take a deep breath and say, "I love when you do that." He smiles, surprised and pleased. You don't give him time to respond and you continue, "but I don't want to do more than that with you." He looks crushed and pulls back his hand, assuming you are breaking up with him. You kiss him deeply and guide his hand back to your breast. "I love you," you add. "I love almost everything we do together. I think you feel good about us, too. So let's figure out if we can be together without sex getting in the way, okay?" Puzzled, he asks, "You don't want sex?" "Sometimes I do. But when I'm with you I want everything else. Is that so bad?" "And what happens when you want it?" "Don't worry, I can always find it. But I will always come back to you." You pause, knowing what you have just asked him to accept. "Let's not talk about it anymore right now," you say. Please just kiss me and keep doing what you're doing." Later that night, after he leaves, you lie in bed and start to touch yourself. You think about how much you love your boyfriend, but when you cum you are thinking about how your lover feels inside you. The next evening, sitting at dinner, you and your boyfriend make small talk. You both know what the main subject is, but neither of you can bring it up until you've exhausted every other topic of conversation. Finally he takes a deep breath and says, "Let's talk." "I love you," he continues, "and I want to be with you if we can work this out. Is it okay if I ask a few questions?" You smile and relax for the first time all evening. "I love you, too," you say. "Ask anything you want to ask." He looks straight into your eyes and says, "Do you like sex?" Why be disingenuous now? "Yes," you respond. "But you don't like it with me?" "No," you say quietly. "Have you had sex with anyone since we started dating?" "Yes." You hear him exhale hard, as if he had just been punched in the gut. "And it was better than it was with me?" "Yes." "Is sex with me that bad?" "Yes... uh, no. It's not that bad." "I see," he says, with a look of defeat in his eyes. "It's not that bad, but it's not good either. Right?" You respond slowly. No need to hurt him more. "I guess that's right. But I love everything else about you, and about us. Doesn't that count?" He hesitates, and the look on his face softens. "Yes, it does. It counts for a lot." He takes your hand, holds it in his and smiles at you. "How often do you want to go out with someone else?" he asks, catching you completely off guard. "Um, maybe once a month?" "You don't need more sex than that?" "No, that's enough." You can't believe he has carried the conversation this far, and you want to be as gentle on him as you possibly can be. And honestly, having your lover take your breath away once a month really would be enough. "What about me?" he asks. You knew this was coming. What you want isn't fair -- you know that. But this isn't about fair, is it? "I don't think I would be able to continue our relationship if you went out with others," you say firmly. His lack of surprise makes you think he knew it was coming, too. "But what am I supposed to do for sex?" "I guess the same thing you did when you weren't going out with anyone." "You don't want to make me feel good?" he asks, sounding more like a lawyer than a hurt lover. "Oh yes, I do want to make you feel good. I'll try to make you feel good every way I can. Except sex." "Can't we have sex sometime anyway, even if you don't love it?" "I guess we could. I can fake it if you want." That was his last line of defense. You watch as it crumbles in front of your eyes. "No," he says quietly. "I don't want you to fake it." Silence. Neither of you is willing to take the next step for what seems like an hour. Finally, he looks right into your eyes; the first time since he said he was ready to talk. "Do you promise to love me before, during and after?" "Yes. I promise." "Do you promise not to fall in love with any of them?" You smile a little when you hear him say "any of them." How many does he think you're going to have? "Yes, I promise that, too." He speaks more softly, more slowly now. "All right. I love you and I want to be with you, so if those are the conditions then I accept them." He moves closer, almost whispering in your ear. "May I ask one more question?" "Anything," you whisper back. Suddenly the conversation has gone from feeling like a negotiation to... well, to a seduction. "Will you let me help you get ready when you are going out?" Now it's your mind's turn to reel from the question, but you recover your balance quickly. What a bizarre request, yet is it any stranger than the terms you laid out for him? You think about having your cake and eating it, too, and you decide there are worse things than your boyfriend (husband?) asking to be part of what you have proposed. "I would love that," you respond with a smile. After dinner you go to your place. You sit together on the couch, watching television and making out. You open your shirt for him, and as you kiss and hold each other you feel him getting hard. You note with satisfaction that he is completely respecting the newly-imposed limit on where he can touch you, yet you cannot prevent the momentary thought that your lover would never abide by such a request. But you asked, and he agreed, so you make sure not to touch his cock because you don't want him getting the wrong idea. When the TV show ends he says nothing... clearly, he is waiting for you to take the lead, wherever it will lead. You stand up, take him by the hand and guide him to the front door. You kiss him deeply, feeling his erection pressing against your body but doing nothing to acknowledge it. "I had a wonderful evening," you say, "and I love you." "I love you, too," he replies, and says goodnight tentatively. He is hoping you will change your mind, because he knows this is his last chance. "See you tomorrow," you respond. "Sleep tight." As you watch him leave you know he is going to go home and jerk off thinking about you and another man together. The thought makes you surprisingly happy. As you lie in bed you think it just may be possible that this will work. You get yourself off thinking about your lover -- the man who makes you wet just by looking at you; the man who would never agree if you said he should be satisfied just touching your breasts. You fall asleep with a contented sigh and a beautiful smile. * Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 15 CHAPTER 15 CONVERSATION WITH MY WIFE'S LOVER On July 2, my wife Sally had another date with her lover, Ted. After we returned home, Ted and I had an IM conversation about the day and about their relationship. He generously gave me permission to reprint the transcript here. Yes, there's a little sex in it, but mostly it is a discussion of my relationship with my wife and HIS relationship with my wife. The only thing that needs explanation is the scene at lunch. We always get a hotel suite for their dates, so they can be alone together in the bedroom and I can sit outside the bedroom door and listen. After a few hours together they come out and have lunch in the dining area of the suite. I used to eat with them, but recently I feel too submissive to eat or even to sit as an equal with them at the table. With their permission I now sit on the floor by the table while they eat. Since they only throw on a shirt or a robe, their genitalia are exposed to me from my vantage point on the floor. I try to masturbate quietly and not disturb their conversation during their meal. If you do not enjoy the idea of sexual denial and humiliation, you will not enjoy this chapter. ALLOW ME TO REPEAT THIS FOR LITEROTICA READERS: * IF YOU DO NOT ENJOY THE IDEA OF SEXUAL DENIAL AND HUMILIATION, YOU WILL *NOT* ENJOY THIS CHAPTER.* Otherwise, comments welcome! Sincerely, Cuckold Paul ******* Ted: are you there Paul: hi - I'm here now. Ted: hi again Paul: Sorry, Sally was just going to take a nap and we talked for a minute first. Hope you had a good time today. Ted: I had a really delightful day. she was magic to me today Paul: You have a few minutes? I won' keep you long, given your long lunch :-) Ted: heheheh I am doing invoices for the 1st of the month Paul: Could I ask you what positions you used fucking her? Ted: missionary and cowgirl Paul: Cowgirl? Ted: woman on top Ted: riding Paul: got it. What positions were you in each time you came in her? Ted: missionary is the way I really cum best Paul: Could I ask you what it felt like to fuck her, to cum in her? Ted: she was very slick as usual if I pumped fast I could hear our juices together] Paul: oooh... Paul: and where were her legs? Ted: attached to her hips Paul: :-( Ted: LOL Ted: couldn't resist that one Paul: very funny. And where were the other ends? Ted: feet on bed with knees up Paul: thank you. Could I ask you how she looked when you were fucking her... I was trying to imagine her naked, etc., when I heard you in her. Ted: I love looking at her beautiful eyes when I cum Paul: God, I know what you're talking about... Ted: and she seems so proud she got me off so well. It's a little twinkle she gets Paul: I can honestly say I've only seen that when she was with you. Never did that with me. Ever. question: you've said you don't ejaculate a lot of semen when you cum. Could I ask about how much you actually do ejaculate? Ted: we fucked three times, she came twice and me twice. Ted: her second one was right after lunch. she got right into bed and reached for her vibe and wanted me to hold her and help her get off Paul: I heard you fuck twice, cum twice... when was the third time? Ted: before lunch. she just had me hard all the time today Paul: OMG, this is my wife we're talking about... Ted: my girlfriend Paul: Yes, she is. I hope you know that's not role-play - not anymore, for sure. Could you answer my cum question... please? Ted: not much right now until I get the surgery, maybe a teaspoon and it does not come out with any real force behind it. Paul: Understood. I thought you didn't ejaculate at all. Ted: no, there is a little, but after the first time is VERY little Paul: I'll tell you why I asked. Actually, two things I want to share, then I won't keep you... Ted: ok Paul: First, I really appreciate your accepting my sitting on the floor and staring at the two of you during lunch. I had just heard you cum in my wife, and facing your cock was intensely humiliating. I didn't want to touch it, and in fact I was trying to understand why it (or any cock) makes my wife wet, but there it was, and there I was. It was very difficult hearing you moan and groan, and especially hearing you cum, and then seeing what was inside her blew my mind. Ted: she was especially good to my cock today Ted: she had me hard almost the whole time Paul: Then while I was staring, a large drop of semen formed right at the tip. It stayed there for about five minutes, then dripped down the way only semen does... gooey and stringy. I can't stop thinking about your semen - your sperm - in my wife. That's why I asked about you cumming. It was gross, and humiliating beyond anything I can express. Ted: it all felt quite nice to us Paul: So I heard. Paul: Item #2 happened during our discussion on the way home. Ted: what happened? Paul: We were talking about what she said last night, which literally kept me awake all night... "Coming to PA taught me that I don't hate sex." Ted: no she does not, she was having a good time. Paul: We talked a lot about that - very relaxed, not putting on a show. She said she really did hate sex with me for as far back as she can remember. Paul: Hate is a strong word. Paul: So I asked her what happens in 2009, since she said she doesn't want to have sex with me for a year. Ted: when she wants more she goes for it and also when she is finished , she is DONE Paul: Ted, she never, ever wants it with me. That's what she said today. She said as long as she has the right to change her mind, she doesn't think it makes sense to say we'd have sex next year. "Unless you're somehow magically going to do it differently next year." Ted: a year is a long time Paul: I'm a little crushed, very excited, and amazed that she was actually telling me what she believes. Right before she went up to take her nap she said, "you're never getting any again." Ted: wow she really did have a good time today! Paul: yes, she did. She had a really good time. I was worried that you'd be upset or unnerved by hearing that she said that to me. Ted: I can still look forward to having sex with her again in less than two weeks Paul: she is, too. fyi, that's technically when she would get her period, but she thinks the chances are slim that it will happen right then. Ted: I hope we are lucky and all is ready for that date Paul: Last question: can you get some idea of how it feels to me to sit outside the door and listen, and think that I may never feel that again in my life... because you taught my wife what good sex is - and what it isn't? Ted: I can't imagine how that feels, I know that she and I have a deep sexual connection and you can't have that. on the other hand you have her love and support always. only a very complicated woman could do this Paul: I agree, and I love her for it. I'm ashamed that you know what you know about her, the intimate details that I've never been shown, but I'm glad we have each found this. Paul: You're not supposed to know what my wife's body looks like, and feels like. You're not supposed to know how to help her orgasm. You're not supposed to fuck her... and she's not supposed to have your sperm swimming around inside her right now... Ted: but I do and I love it and so does she Ted: something you have to face every day Paul: Those beautiful eyes you looked at when you came... she just looked at me with them, and told me I'm never getting any again. Ted: a totally different message Paul: Thanks, Ted. I won't take any more of your time, but I needed to share those things with you. I can write about them as "Paul", but you're the only person who knows who I am... and what I am. Ted: I think others gain by your sharing Ted: you are probably helping several others right now Paul: yes, they do. But I gain by your willingness to cuckold me and to talk about it with me. I am truly grateful... and grateful for how you treat Sally. Ted: we all are seeming to get just what we ant from this. sounds like a successful arrangement to me Paul: I heard you orgasm in my wife today... I won't ever forget that. Ted: you have heard it before and actually watched it Paul: But when we were sharing her it was one thing. Now it is more difficult than you might imagine. Ted: she has stopped making any mention of doing anything to give you a thrill when we're together. Paul: You were right when you said it was the two of you. Sex is only for the two of you, and only behind a closed door. All I get is the sounds, and staring at your cock when you and she have lunch. And no, she's not interested in giving me any thrills. She's very happy I like this, and she's getting more comfortable doing what she wanted to do years ago - cut me off completely. Ted: I am more than pleased with the situation and want to continue looking into her eyes while my cock is spurting into her pussy Paul: you just completely fucked with my head. Ted: it is what she and I enjoy together Paul: I know. But when you smack me in the face with it you really help me accept this. Ted: I don't think your cuck friends or wannabes fully understand this kind of thing Paul:?? Ted: how you are feeling and how she and I really feel. many are only thinking sexually, not a total thing Ted: they are not at the place we are Paul: All I can say is that when you tell me it's more than a sex thing, that it's a couple thing, you drive me into a very dark but exciting place. A FEW cucks really know this, but I truly appreciate your doing this TO me. Ted: I'll bet very few have a 10 year history Paul: that's true. VERY few. Paul: and very few have been cut off completely. Ted: they are still into getting their rocks off watching her fuck some big cock Paul: and, to be honest, choreographing the whole thing. That's something you've been very good about... helping me stop choreographing, let go and enjoy being hurt by what Sally and you share. Ted: we wanted to have sex our way not yours. You are no longer part of our sex Paul: Since May 20 it's official. You are right. And it's possible that I may NEVER be again. Paul: could I ask you how it felt to cum in her? Paul: what it felt like to you? Ted: you will think about this many more times than just when we are together. you will think about it when you look at porn, when you talk to other cucks and when you see her naked Paul: AND when I see her at work, and when we go out to dinner, and when we're with our kids, and when everyone says what a loving couple we are. Ted: you are a loving couple, don't forget that. But you are NOT a fucking couple Paul: I know that. And I'm amazed how much Sally wants it to be that way for the rest of our lives. Ted: you have a wonderful woman who loves you deeply, enough to be honest with you about her needs Paul: But you know how much baggage she has had to drop to get here, and you are responsible for letting her feel comfortable letting it go. I hope you know how much she appreciates you. Not to replace me, but you have given her something she would never have known. And you have helped her drop something she HATED. Ted: it is all good Paul: yes, it is. thank you! Ted: I gotta get on finishing the invoices. Have a good day and tell my girlfriend I had a fantastic time - but she was there and knows that!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Paul: will do. see you soon. Ted: bye bye A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 16 Chapter 16 -- October 2008 AS I jerked off outside the closed bedroom door, I heard the sounds of passion and pleasure coming from my wife and her lover. He came, she came, he came again. I was excited as hell, but I did not know why, because I felt ignored, stupid and really, really hurt. I kept masturbating, not allowing myself to cum because I know I cannot handle the cuckolding unless I'm incredibly horny. But during the quiet times, when no sounds other than the rustling of sheets and an occasional kiss came from the bedroom, I asked myself the ultimate cuckold question: Why am I doing this? Why did I bring my wife here and help her get ready for another man? Why did I buy them lunch so they can take a break later, before going back to bed together? Why am I sitting outside the bedroom door while my wife is fucking HIM? And why -- why, for God's sake -- am I excited instead of furious? Each time he groaned or she gasped, I put those thoughts aside. But after each time they came, after each episode which smacked me in the face with the reality of my wife's infidelity, the questions came back. Then I got my answer. The bedroom door opened and Sally walked out, stark naked. She walked by me on the way to the bathroom, her breasts proudly exposed, her nipples hard, her pussy lips so swollen that I could see them as she walked. She made no attempt to cover herself, or to make apologies; clearly she was unashamed about what she had just done. Instead, she smiled her beautiful smile and said, "Twice -- he came in me twice so far." Then she closed the bathroom door behind her. When she came out she had the same smile, and asked me if I was okay. "I'm okay. This really hurts," I said, as I stroked myself as hard as I could. "I know it does. But I'm having a great time. See you later," she replied, the smile never leaving her lips. Then she turned away and closed the bedroom door behind her. Her smile was the key. As I stared once again at the door which separated me from the man and woman in bed together, I finally realized the missing piece of the cuckold puzzle: My wife really does have a great time with Ted, and knowing it hurts me does not take away from her pleasure. The fact is, this was NOT an easy place to reach. Not easy for me, and even harder for Sally. Years ago I had asked her to experiment with S&M -- me always being on the receiving end of the pain, of course. To put it mildly, she HATED it. She loves me, and there was nothing in her that could accept giving me pain, even when I asked her to. She struggled to go along with it, but it was clear that her heart was not in it. I remember my favorite S&M game. Sally would sit up on the floor, leaning back against a soft pillow. We tied a string loosely around her neck, like a necklace, and attached the other end to my balls as I stood facing her. She used her vibrator, and as I watched her get excited I knew what would happen when she came: her orgasm would make her jerk backward, crushing the soft pillow and pulling so hard on my balls that I thought they would come off. What I loved most about it was that my pain was directly tied to her pleasure: the better she felt, the more I would hurt. But, as I said, those experiments were short-lived, as she just could not handle giving me pain. Then the cuckolding began. Nearly 10 years ago I wrote "The Cuckold's and Cuckolder's Guide," in which I said that cuckolding is "psychological S&M." I didn't think much about it at the time, other than to realize over the years that some of the most exciting moments were the most painful ones. But back then I thought that the pain was incidental to cuckolding -- part of it, but not the focus of it. Now I think I was wrong. Let's look at two definitions: Cuckold (noun) -- A man with an unfaithful wife. Masochist (noun) -- A person with a sexual perversion characterized by pleasure in being subjected to pain or humiliation, especially by a love object. Pardon me for getting into semantics here, but a cuckold is NOT the same as a man with a "hot wife." Even if only she dates, even if he sits at home and wonders what's happening, it seems to me that being a cuckold requires INFIDELITY (the "unfaithful" part of the definition) on the part of the wife. Now "infidelity" doesn't mean she has to leave her husband -- in our case, at least, that's the last thing on either of our minds. But being "unfaithful" implies something being lost by the husband; his wife taking a precious part of herself away from him and giving it to someone else instead. I have come to believe that it is the pain of that loss which defines -- and excites -- a cuckold. Why? Because he is a masochist. At least I know I am. And that explains everything. I always told Sally, "Just because it's exciting doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. And just because it hurts doesn't mean it is not exciting." Now I realize that is way too complicated. The simpler version is, "I'm so excited that you are hurting me." I've been excited by her hurting me before, but as I said, the problem was that SHE wasn't excited by it; she hated inflicting pain on me. But thinking back to her smile -- last week, and every time she's been with Ted -- I realize we have finally found a way for both of us to feel sexually fulfilled: she has a great lover, and she is comfortable, happy and excited about doing something that hurts me more than anything she's ever done. I'm sure some men can just get off on the thought of their wives having a great time screwing other men. That's all good, and I hope they enjoy it. But given how many cuckolds have written to me asking, "Why do we do this?" and how many forum discussion threads have addressed the same question, I think something has been missing from our answers. Maybe this is it. How does my wife hurt me? In order to understand, please remember that I'm a regular, otherwise-normal man. I love my wife, she loves me, and we have created a great life together. We have three fantastic kids, we enjoy our work, we try to help out in the community and we have family and friends that love us. We've even gone through becoming "empty nesters" and found out that we really like being together without the kids. So if you will put aside the fact that being a cuckold excites me, you may get a feeling of what life is like with a wife who loves me, but only has sex with her lover. To provide a little background: if you've read the previous chapters of my Diary, you know that Sally stopped having sex with me on November 20, 2006... just about two years ago. She has enjoyed these two years so much that she says she NEVER wants to have sex with me again. So the most hurtful thing of all is that everything she does for Ted, everything she shares with Ted, she withholds from me. Happily. Contentedly. Painfully. I made a list of what hurts, to share with her. Here is the list. My love, I had always thought you hated sex, but you don't. You LOVE sex. You just hate sex with me. You get wet when you think about Ted inside you. You wear flannel nightgowns and cotton panties for me; silk negligees and no panties for him. When you accidentally forgot your flannel nightgown when we went away, you were upset that you had to wear something sexy with me. The only time you are comfortable spreading your legs for me is when you're sitting with Ted, because you know I can't touch you then. When you are with him your pussy is swollen and open. When you are with me it is closed. You want him inside you. You are MY wife, but Ted knows every inch of your body. You are MY wife, but you know every inch of Ted's body. He knows so much about your body that I have not learned in all our years together. You know so much about his body that you no longer want to know about mine. You have your hair done for him, and your nails, and your toenails. You do those things at other times, too, but you never do them FOR ME. You tweeze your breasts for him, to make sure there are no stray hairs to get in the way when he sucks your nipples. You never do that for me, but you make me check to be sure you did a good job for him. You make me help you get ready for sex with him. You know I make the bed for you and him. I drive you to your dates, get everything ready, then stand aside while he takes you. You and Ted and I know that you only want him inside you. You take off your clothes for him. You use your body to turn him on. At home, even when you undress in front of me, you never try to turn me on. In fact, you always maintain the boundaries that prevent sex between us when we are together. You love giving him your breasts and nipples. The breasts and nipples that nurtured our children. When Ted feels you up in front of me you smile at him and kiss him. He always tells me how anxious you are to feel his cock. You and I both know you have never felt that way about mine. You ask him to feel how wet you are. You tell him that I never, ever make you wet. You tell me in detail why you hated sex with me. You tell Ted, too. I will never feel you (or anyone else) stroke my cock. I will never feel you (or anyone else) suck my cock. I will never again feel the sensation of my cock inside a woman's body. Never, for the rest of my life. I hear your vibrator through the bedroom door. I listen as you cum in his arms. He tells me how much he loves feeling you cum and helping you cum. He describes the intimate things your body does as you cum. He knows all your body's secrets, because you are SO happy to share them with him. I hear you gasp when Ted slides his cock into you. I hear Ted cry out with pleasure when he is inside you. I sit outside the bedroom door and listen to Ted grunt, "I'm cumming!" I am all alone while I hear him groan as he ejaculates in you. You use every inch of your body to give Ted pleasure. Ultimate pleasure. Pleasure you hated giving me. Pleasure you never want to give me again. You know I am sitting outside the door while you have sex with him. You are happy I am there. You don't want me further away, but you don't want me closer, either. When you come out of the bedroom you are always happy to tell me how many times you each came. You know that my conversations with Ted are the most humiliating experiences in my life. Whether it's "chatting" with the two of you before you go to bed together, or listening to him afterward as he tells me how wonderful it was to have sex with you, it hurts like hell to face your lover. He and I both know that you want him. We both know that you don't want me. We both know that when it comes to sex with my wife, he won and I lost. Again and again. Forever. You know that when you and Ted are done, I will kiss you, help you dress and drive you home. You know that Ted's sperm will swim inside you for days once we are home. You are so happy that you won't ever have to have my sperm in you again. You know I will never have sex again, and you like that. You know I will never feel a woman's touch -- a woman's sexual touch -- again, and you like that. You know it has been two years since I have been inside you, and you like that. You told me that our private "I love you" signal now means, "I love you and I'm thinking about Ted inside me." Day and night I look at you - at work, or at home, or with our friends, or when we go out to dinner together -- and I am haunted by the image of you naked, on your back with your legs spread, and Ted inside you. I think about your gasps and his groans as you fuck each other. I think about what he has found and what I have lost. You call me a cuckold. You cuckold me. You don't like hurting me, but you have a wonderful time -- an "adventure" -- in bed with Ted. And that really, really hurts. Knowing you are happy with our relationship is the only thing that could make it hurt more. You are so happy, aren't you? *** Readers may choose whether to believe that all this is true or not. The fact is, it IS true. All of it. Every word, every emotion, all the excitement... and all the pain. I wrote about it because writing helps me understand what's going on in the world, and in the 27 chapters of my Cuckold's Diary I think I have learned a lot. This chapter fills in the final piece of the puzzle, at least for me. Now I know "Why I do this." As I finish this story, I am looking at the beautiful, formal picture of Sally which sits on my desk. No one would EVER suspect that she is a cuckoldress. Sally, thank you for agreeing to "try the opera once" in March, 1998. Ted, thank you for being a gentleman every step of the way, and for being a superb lover for my wife. Our relationship hurts me every day, and I am very content. I think all three of us are. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 17 Chapter 17: Sharing Pleasure, Sharing Pain November 2008 DISCLAIMER: I have come to understand that cuckolding is a powerful form of S&M. I realized this and wrote about it in Chapter 27 of this Cuckold's Diary. If you will be upset by reading about this, I warmly invite you to read no further. Otherwise, enjoy! ***** The most surprising reaction to Chapter 27 of my Cuckold's Diary came from my wife, Sally. After she read my analysis of why cuckolding turns me on -- namely, that it is a form of masochism, and that she is the one hurting me by her infidelity -- she said, "I really like it." I never expected that from my loving and very proper wife! Not much more was said about it until last Wednesday, November 19th, when Sally called me at work and said she wanted to take me out to dinner. I happily agreed, and we met at our favorite Japanese restaurant about 9 p.m. We got settled, ordered our meal and then she reached across the table to take my hands in hers. "Tomorrow is our second anniversary. I wanted to celebrate it with you and to tell you that it really is a celebration for me," she said. Anyone overhearing us would have been touched by the love with which this 50-something wife spoke to her husband of two years, and by the sincerity with which she told me she was celebrating our anniversary. What that bystander would not have known is that we have been married for over 25 years, and that the next day was the second anniversary of the time she last had sex with me. I shivered as if I was freezing cold. She watched me and smiled as she held my hands. As we ate, we talked about how her decision had been a good one for our marriage. We talked about how close we feel to each other, and how sex between us had always been a source of conflict. She spoke of how her lover, Ted, had taught her how good sex could be and how much she loved it when it was not with me. I talked of how all the other barriers in our relationship disappeared when she put up the one, impenetrable barrier which keeps us apart sexually. Finally, she told me she had made appointments to have her hair done and to have a manicure and pedicure in preparation for her date with Ted the following Tuesday. It was a wonderful anniversary dinner -- a true celebration. In bed that night I helped her to cum using my fingers, my mouth and her pocket rocket. She had a huge orgasm, and when she was finished I prepared to go to my home office to jerk off, as I always do. But when I kissed her goodnight she gave me a kiss that literally sent shock waves down my spine and had my cock hard in an instant. It was the sexiest, dirtiest kiss I have ever experienced in my life, unlike anything she had shared with me before. It went on for a long time, and by the time she stopped I was panting with lust. "Oh, my God!" was all I could say. "I thought you might like to know how I kiss Ted," she replied, and turned over to go to sleep. That kiss haunted me for days. In fact, it haunts me still. I didn't know she could kiss like that. I didn't know she WANTED to kiss like that. Now I know: she can, and she does... with HIM. I can still taste that kiss, and I still get hard thinking about it. The thought of it makes me ache inside; a searing pain of loss as I think about how much she gives Ted that she denies me. That she has always denied me. Late that night, getting ready to cum for the second time in an hour (which is no easy feat for someone my age), I realized what was happening. Sally said she really liked the story about the pain of cuckolding, and she had evidently decided that she could, indeed, hurt me by sharing her feelings about sex. You have to know my wife to understand how huge a step this was for her, as she is a dignified and proper woman at every moment. Even her email correspondence with Ted has been just about G-rated in between their dates; not only is she not one to "kiss and tell," she doesn't even kiss and talk about it with the man she kisses! But now I was experiencing something I had never seen before: she understood that it was all right to hurt me by sharing what she enjoys with her lover, and I was getting it - in spades. As she had planned, she spent the daytime on Monday getting ready for her date. Hair beautifully done and a dark, red polish on her fingernails and toenails. She said she liked the color because it would be a great contrast with his skin when she was stroking him. Little did I know how important that would be the next day. Monday night after work, we drove to the hotel. We arrived after 11 p.m. and Sally was exhausted. We talked for a few minutes about the next day, and she fell asleep. I went out to the living room of the suite and jerked off for a while, making sure not to cum so I would be horny enough to cope with the next day's events. I awoke early in the morning, dressed and went downstairs to bring Sally breakfast in bed. When she was fully awake and starting to get ready I left to buy lunch for the two of them. When I returned, Sally had "dressed" for her date: a short, black slip and black panties. Her breasts were literally pouring out of the top of the slip; when she finished doing her hair and asked me how it looked, I had a hard time believing Ted would notice even if she was bald, given the gorgeous cleavage I saw in front of me. No need for a blow-by-blow (!) description of the day. Suffice to share the moments that are burned in my memory. Sally and Ted sitting on the couch in the living room, cuddling together. Ted's arm is around her and his hand is caressing her breast through the slip, as if it is the most normal thing in the world to do this with a married woman in front of her husband. Sally turns to him and kisses him, and as the kiss continues I realize what I am seeing: this is THE KISS she gave me a few nights before! I see him pull her closer and caress her cheek with his hand as their lips and tongues continue their dance, and although I've seen them do this before, this is the first time I really understand what he is feeling. She had "demonstrated" this kiss for me, but now I see that it is -- and always was -- for him. They spent two hours in the bedroom together. From my customary seat just outside the closed bedroom door, I hear what sex -- great sex -- sounds like. I hear Sally's special sound -- the one she makes when he first enters her. I hear Ted gasping and groaning for a good twenty minutes as he fucks her. Twice, as his groans built in intensity, I hear him say, "Whoa, that was close." I hear Sally's vibrator, and I literally feel the floor shake when she cums in his arms. I hear them talk afterward; while I cannot make out their words, I can tell when they are talking sex and when they are talking as friends. I hear them do both. I also hear Ted's gasps during their "friends" talk; a reminder that they are not JUST friends, and that my wife's hands are always busy when they are in bed together. Yes, I jerked off the whole two hours, but nothing I could do by myself could possibly equal the pleasure they gave each other. I looked at my cock and thought that I don't remember what it feels like to have it touched by someone else, or what it feels like to be inside my own wife's body. I masturbated to the sounds of my wife having sex with another man - the moans and groans of ultimate, intimate pleasure -- and felt the emptiness and loneliness which are my sensations when my wife is having sex. I remembered the kiss she shared with me and was overwhelmed with the thought that if she fucked him the way she kissed him, he must be in heaven. After nearly two hours I heard them moving around inside, and I thought they might be coming out for lunch. Instead, Sally called for me to come in. That was VERY surprising, as their bedroom has been almost completely off limits to me for years now. I opened the door to ask what she wanted, and was faced with this: Sally was lying on her back, completely naked and uncovered. Ted was kneeling on the bed by her side and his face was contorted with a look of absolute ecstasy. Looking down, I saw why: Sally's hand was around his cock and she was stroking him. Sally said, "We thought we would give you a present for your anniversary, so we invited you in to watch for a minute." I nearly cried. I nearly came. I croaked out, "Thank you," and stood in the doorway, watching and masturbating. Clearly, Ted was "close" again, because his body twitched with each movement of Sally's hand. I saw her stroke him, then gently hold his cock and move her index finger across its head. He reacted to each touch with a groan, and he grabbed the headboard to keep from falling as she jerked him off. As I watched, I realized that Sally knows this man very well. She knows how to touch him, she knows what he likes and she knows when to back off so she can keep him at the edge of orgasm. I realized, too, that I was looking at the penis that has replaced mine: the only one my wife wants to touch, the only one she wants inside her, the only one she wants to please. She played with his cock like a musician playing an instrument. She knew what response she wanted, and she knew how to get it. Ted responded with grunts, moans and spasms which made it clear that the song she was playing was his favorite. She played his cock with skill, but more shocking was how she played it with passion: as she stroked and caressed him she watched him with such intensity that it seemed she was masturbating him with her mind. Witnessing that connection between my wife and her lover, I felt an immense emptiness inside as I saw what I have been missing for much more than the past two years. And I felt like I wanted to melt into the floor when Ted opened his eyes and looked at me, his mouth falling open and his head tilting to the side as my wife stroked his penis in front of me. He didn't laugh at me. He didn't need to. I stood there jerking off as hard as I could. And suddenly I realized that this "anniversary present" was something I had never experienced before. Sally and Ted were giving me a "present" of hurting me right in front of my face. To guarantee that I knew what they were doing -- in case Ted's groans and the shaking floor were not sufficient proof of my wife's infidelity -- they had invited me in to watch as my naked wife stroked her lover's penis. I was excited and humiliated and overwhelmed and hurt, all at the same time. At one point Ted cried out with pleasure, and as he did, Sally looked at me and smiled. I could barely breathe as I understood her unspoken message: "This is what you are missing." Even more difficult to describe, her look also said, "I love you." So as my naked wife jerked off her lover, and as he writhed with ecstasy, I did my best to give her a look which said, "I love you, too." My "anniversary present" lasted about five minutes. Then Sally said, "That's enough. Please go." I could not argue; hell, I could barely talk. I said, "Thank you" to both of them again, and Ted answered, "You're very welcome. You earned it through two difficult years." He actually lost the last word in a grunt as Sally did something to his cock, but I got the point. I backed out of the room and closed the door behind me. I took my seat outside the door and listened as Ted fucked my wife. Moans and groans and both of them laughing as she took him right to the edge and backed off again. They were not just having sex -- they were having fun. After a period of quiet, the door opened and Sally emerged with her slip and robe on. She said it was time for lunch, but Ted wanted to talk with me first. I peeked into the bedroom and there was Ted, lying on his side, his cock standing straight out from his body. He said "Come in," and I did. Even before I had gotten into the room he started talking about how wonderful the morning had been. He rolled onto his back and told me that Sally had gotten on top of him the first time they fucked. I looked at his erection and thought of my wife on her knees, sliding that cock into her body. I tried to imagine how it felt to have her pussy draw him in and kiss him as he moved in and out. I thought of his sperm dripping out of his cock as they fucked, and swimming up into her womb. Ted said that he really liked it when she sat up on him. He said it felt great when his cock was straight up. "Like this," he said, moving his erect cock to illustrate how it was positioned when my wife fucked him. "And in this position I get to play with her tits, too," he added. I nodded, trying to understand how to carry on my part of the conversation when I was overwhelmed with shame and excitement over what he was telling me. After a few minutes I sat down on the floor next to the bed. I couldn't stand up anymore, but more than that, I felt so submissive that it didn't seem right to be standing over him. He seemed to understand, and turned his head to face me while continuing to hold his penis in the upright position he had described. He didn't say much more; he didn't need to. We knew I wanted to be hurt, and we knew he was hurting me; anything else would have been superfluous. I sat there for another five minutes or so, jerking off as my wife's lover let me look at the penis that had been inside her all morning. From time to time he would change position a little, or stroke himself to maintain his erection, but basically he allowed me to wallow in my humiliation. Finally he got up, said it was time for lunch, and threw his shirt over his shoulders. He walked right by me as I sat on the floor, but he paused for a second as he drew close so I could get a true submissive's view of his genitalia. Lunch was normal -- normal, that is, for a cuckold. I watched my wife and her lover sit together at the small dining area table, talking as they ate the lunch I had purchased for them. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than the fact that neither of them was wearing anything below their waist and I was sitting on the couch, watching them and masturbating. As she has done before, Sally was kind enough to spread her legs as she ate; sitting across the room I had a perfect view of her bush and her swollen labia as she talked with her lover. They shared bread recipes - honestly, that's what they talked about. The funniest moment was when Ted gave her a good recipe and she asked me if I had a pen... I looked down at myself, wearing nothing but a coating of Vaseline on my cock, and wondered where she thought I would keep a pen! As their lunch dragged on, I started to get frustrated: where was the passion? Where was the SEX? They are lovers, not neighbors, and they only see each other once a month. What gives? Then I realized that I had answered my own question. They are LOVERS. They don't just fuck each other; they care about each other and enjoy each other's company. They don't care, and in fact seldom notice, that I am nearby; when they are together they do anything they want. They fuck, they touch, they catch up on each other's lives... they even share recipes. I got past thinking they had to be fucking to be having a good time together, and I looked at the two of them -- half naked, unashamed, happy to be spending time on their date. When Sally actually made the bread the next day, I nearly came. Finally they went back to bed. Usually, after spending all that time "behaving" at lunch, they get right into sex when they close the door behind them. This time, while there was a lot of kissing, they didn't ever change out of their "friends" voices. After a while I figured they were done for the day. I was sure of it when Sally asked me to come in again so we could arrange our calendars for their next date, as that is always the last thing they discuss before saying goodbye. I opened the door and saw the two of them lying under the sheet together, side by side. Sally asked me about December 9th and I said it was fine; Ted asked about the 16th as a backup and I said that was fine, too. (You can be sure I had checked all the dates in the next two months in advance!) They thanked me, and Sally gave him a kiss saying, "I had a wonderful time today." Ted kissed her back. Then he kissed her again. Then he took his hand and caressed her cheek, drawing her mouth back to him for another kiss. As he did, his other hand moved under the sheet, and I could see he was touching her breasts. Then his hand moved down until its outline disappeared between her legs. She spread her legs and he kissed her again; this time I could see their mouths open and their tongues dance between them. Ted shuddered, then looked at me and said, "It's time for you to leave us alone." There was an urgency in Ted's voice that made it clear I was to leave right away. If ever I needed proof that I was born to be a cuckold, it would be the fact that I did not even hesitate. Much as I wanted to watch what would happen next, I knew it was my lot to give the lovers their privacy. I closed the door behind me and as I sat down on my seat outside the door I heard Sally gasp. Ted was inside her already. They only fucked for a few minutes. His cries of pleasure grew from the second he entered her until he came with a sound that made me think he was being choked. All I could think of was him showing me his erection an hour before; now I heard what happens when he slides that erect penis into my wife's body. I thought about seeing her stroke him; I thought about seeing him demonstrate the position of his cock which felt best when she got on top of him; I thought about her not allowing me to feel any of that for two years; I thought about them hurting me. I thought about all of this as I heard his aftershocks and my wife's loving voice telling him how good he felt in her. I did not cum through all of this. I wanted to desperately, and I was so close to cumming that I had to stop dozens of times along the way. But I knew that I was hurting badly from everything that had happened, and my horniness was the only thing which allowed me to be excited by the pain. I must have dripped more semen than most men cum when they ejaculate, and by the time Ted stopped groaning I realized my head was spinning with the effects of the day's events. I moved to the living room, sat on the couch and stroked my cock gently; any more and I would have cum, but any less would have left me in tears. Not long after that Ted came out of the bedroom, fully dressed. He closed the bedroom door behind him, and said Sally was taking a nap. I figured he was ready to leave; in light of the "anniversary presents" they had given me, I did not think he would take the time to sit and talk with me now. But he came into the living room, sat on the chair facing me and began to talk. We talked for more than 20 minutes. Not once did he say, "Wow, did you see the way your wife stroked my cock?" or "You should have seen the look on your face when I told you to leave," or "Ha ha, you're a cuckold." No, Ted is much too dignified a man to speak like that to anyone -- even to a husband whose wife he had just fucked. What he did was to relax into the chair and start telling me what a wonderful time he had with Sally. As I listened to him I realized that he simply accepted the fact that my wife loves sex with him and refuses to have sex with me. Talking with him online a few days later, he told me that he is "completely comfortable" with his role, and felt fine sharing some of the intimate details with me. "After all," he wrote, "How many ways are there to thank a man when he just helped you fuck his wife?" As the conversation grew more and more intimate I felt smaller and smaller, as if I were actually sinking into the floor from shame and humiliation. Without saying a word I slipped off the couch and sat on the floor; it seemed, as it had in the bedroom, that we were not equals and should not be on equal footing as we spoke. Ted just smiled and continued talking. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 17 Picture the scene: Sally's lover relaxing in a chair, pleased and satisfied after spending the day in bed with her. Me, sitting naked on the floor in front of him, masturbating and groaning every time he described a new intimacy which we both knew was something I will never feel again. I kept thinking he would get up to leave soon, as it must be making him uncomfortable, but as he told me later, he was not uncomfortable at all. He was happy to tell me what I was missing -- not only what they did together, but how my wife WANTED all of it. From time to time, when he told me different things they had done, I would tell him how Sally had made it clear that she didn't want to do that with me. "I know," he said several times, "She told me that." Looking back on that scene now I don't understand how Ted kept from laughing at me. But as I said, he is a gentleman. He asked me if I knew of any other cuckolds that have a relationship like ours. "Like Sally's and mine?" I asked. "No, like the three of us. I think we have each brought something special to this relationship, and I haven't seen anything written by others that seems to be the same." "What in particular?" I asked, still jerking off in front of him like a madman. "Where the wife is monogamous with her lover, the husband makes all the arrangements for the lovers to meet, and where the lover is comfortable with... ummmm... THIS," he responded, gesturing toward me. "I know a few couples where the wife won't have sex with her husband anymore, but I don't think there are many where everyone is friends right up to the bedroom door. Either the cuckold is MORE involved, or LESS; we seem to fit right in between the extremes." "That's what I meant. I think it works for all of us," he said. "I looked up at him and he was smiling. It was a good thing I hadn't cum earlier, because only my incredible horniness allowed me to keep from crawling away in shame. As it was, I WAS ashamed... but horny enough to keep my place and keep masturbating. "I was thinking," Ted added. "You and I both know she doesn't cum from fucking. But she SO loves having me inside her. I can see it in her face; she looks like an angel when my cock is in her." "Uh huh," I grunted. There wasn't much more I could say between my nearly-cumming spasms and besides, what the hell WOULD I say to that? "Just now, after you left, I said to her, 'I really need to get off with you.' She didn't say a word; she just rolled onto her back and spread her legs. When I got on top of her she guided my cock in and fucked me so hard that I came almost immediately. When I came she smiled at me with such a sense of accomplishment -- I loved it!" He paused, then added, "She doesn't feel that way about you." I spent the next five minutes right at the edge of orgasm. Ted didn't say anything, or make a move to leave. He just sat there and smiled while I got off on the pain of what he had just said and what they had just done. When I could talk again, we discussed the plans for their next date in two weeks. Ted thanked me for lunch, and thanked me for bringing Sally to him. He said he had to go, but wanted to give her a goodbye kiss first. I did not move from the floor as he went back to the bedroom, kissed my wife softly and headed out the door. I stayed on the living room floor until Sally called me into the bedroom. She smiled at me from THEIR bed, said she had a great time and asked how I was doing. "I'm fine. Today blew my mind. YOU blew my mind," I answered. "I know," she said sweetly. "You hurt me. And you invited me in to watch you hurting me." "I know," she repeated. "I didn't know you could do that," I confessed. "I enjoyed it. All of it," she purred. "Do you still want to take me home with you?" I was filled with such love for this woman that I couldn't even imagine the proper way to tell her how I felt. "More than ever" was all I could say. We had a quiet drive home, talking about her date, making work phone calls and enjoying the afterglow together. At night, after spending time with the first of our kids to get home from college for the Thanksgiving break, we got into bed. I still had not cum, but now was definitely the time for it. I reached over to kiss her and she kissed me back: lips closed, soft but with no doubt that this was NOT the kiss that she had given me a week ago. I respected that, and quietly asked her if I could see her tits for a minute, just to remind myself of the day. "No," she said gently but firmly. "Go downstairs and have sex with yourself. Think about Ted's sperm swimming around in me, and how it got there." It has been almost a week since their date. I can't look at her without thinking about how she wanted me to see her hurting me. I keep saying "thank you" to her, and sending emails to Ted with the same message. They may be tired of hearing it, but since they have not stopped their affair I will just have to keep saying it. * Comments are welcome. Flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 18 Chapter 18 "Speechless" August 2009 INTRODUCTION This is a story about real-life cuckolding. I am posting it for people to read for enjoyment, or education, or voyeurism, or whatever gets you off. It is about a loving relationship between a husband and wife, in which each of us has learned what turns our partner on. If you think for a moment that my wife is a bitch, you misunderstand completely. On the other hand, if you think I'm a pretty poor excuse for a man, I wouldn't argue the point. BTW, she didn't marry me for my money! Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul * THE STORY Many years ago, my wife's lover, Ted, explained the phrase, "topping from the bottom." It's a big deal in the world of domination and submission (D&s), describing the temptation of the submissive partner to control the action. Essentially, the sub is so intent on feeling truly out of control that he or she makes sure the action goes exactly as they want it to. Of course, this defeats the purpose of the whole endeavor, since they can't lose control as long as they insist on running everything their way! Ted has some experience in D&s, so when he saw me trying to choreograph his dates with my wife, Sally, he tried -- gently -- to get me to let go. Sometimes he succeeded; other times I was so fixated on being cuckolded that I would lay out the entire day's events as if their date was a Bob Fosse musical number. Those dates were pretty intense, but I always had the thought that Sally and Ted were performing for me as much as they were fucking each other. Apparently Sally thought that, too, because a few years ago she asked if it would be possible for me to accept not being in the bedroom with them when they fucked. I gave it a try, and it worked for us -- it TOTALLY worked for the two of them, and it sort of worked for me. There were times when I felt really left out of things, and some of those times I found myself sulking outside the bedroom door, but Sally and Ted were very understanding and asked me what I needed to be okay with our new arrangement. Little by little I told them -- "do this," "tell me that" -- until once again I was topping from the bottom. I might not have been with them in the bedroom, but I choreographed every minute before and after their fucking. I got them to undress in front of me before going to bed, and I got Sally to go down on Ted in front of me, too. I got them to feel each other up when they came out for lunch, and at times I even told them what I wanted them to say to me. I didn't do it on purpose; I just couldn't help myself. This past May, Sally decided to give me a present to celebrate two and a half years since she stopped fucking me altogether. She said she wanted to make love with me! The result was... a disaster. Later on she told Ted that it was "like fucking an ironing board," I was so stiff and unresponsive. For me, I could barely stay hard enough to finish. I kept thinking that I should be a great lover for her, to show her that I could do anything Ted could do, and it was absolutely terrible. Sally was kind, and cuddled me after I came, but neither of us thought it had been a great experience. And so it was that two weeks later I found myself sitting outside the bedroom door, listening to my wife fuck her lover. I heard them moaning and groaning, crying out their pleasure. I heard him cum -- loudly. I heard her cum, bouncing the bed so hard that I thought the floor would break. Soon after, I heard them fuck again, and I heard his groans increasing in pitch until he sounded like a little boy in pain. Then he came, and suddenly he was no longer a little boy, but a grown man bellowing out his orgasm. Then, yes, SHE came again, too. And all that was before lunch! In the silence after their second round, a powerful thought struck me: he is SO much better at sex than I am, that I am lucky they let me sit outside their door when they are together. I looked down at my cock which I had been stroking, and which was now getting soft even though I hadn't cum in days, and I remembered the sounds I had just heard. Believe me, it was not a proud moment. But it was an important one. At that moment I realized that I AM a cuckold, in fact and by nature. I understood that we had not come to the hotel to turn me on; we were there so Sally could fuck a MAN. I was filled with shame but also with a sense of calm: all of a sudden I knew I was where I was supposed to be, outside the bedroom door while my wife fucked HIM. I knew I would be there to make them lunch and to clean up the dishes when they were done, and then I would return to my seat outside the door when they went back to bed together. When they were done I would thank Ted and take Sally home as a loving husband -- a loving CUCKOLD -- should do. If you're not a cuckold, the paragraph you just read makes no sense at all. But it made sense to me, and it led to an important decision. After that date, I told Ted and Sally that I was done topping from the bottom. I thanked them for allowing me to be in the hotel suite with them, and I said that whatever they wanted to do on their dates would be fine with me. I thanked them -- each of them -- for cuckolding me, and I asked them to let me know if I started to try to take control again. They were surprised, pleased and, I think, a little doubtful that I would be able to let go. They made a date for last Thursday. As always I made the hotel reservation at our "regular place." In an email I asked Ted if there was anything I could do to make their date better for him, and he said he'd like me to get him a bagel to have for breakfast when he arrived. I told him that the hotel's bagels were terrible, but I would be honored to bring him one from a great place near our home. I asked if that was all and he said, "Just bring me your wife and stay out of our way." Shuddering, I said I could do that, too. I really don't think that many people consider buying bagels to be erotic, and I never had before. But I did on Wednesday afternoon. After the bagels I went to Wegman's and bought lunch for both of them as I had done for all their earlier dates. Even there, a wonderful sense of purpose made the experience feel different: no tension, no thought about what I wanted them to do or say. I was the cuckold, running errands to make my wife's date with her lover as perfect as I could. I might not be able to please her in bed, but I could definitely please her -- and him - before and after they went to bed. The week before their date had been incredibly busy for both of us, so we didn't have time to talk about it in advance. I felt bad about that, but kept reminding myself that SHE was the one calling the shots, not me. When we drove to the hotel on Wednesday night she had a major headache (of course I believed her -- we weren't going to fuck anyway!), so even when we checked in we didn't talk about sex. I got her some Advil, put something she liked on the TV, and discretely went into the other room to masturbate as I thought about the coming events. When I returned to the bedroom after jerking off (but not cumming), she was asleep. I folded the covers over her, thought about being angry that she hadn't done anything to help me prepare for their date, and decided that I should let it go and feel bad about myself, not about her. It worked, and I even managed to get a few fitful hours' sleep. When my alarm went off in the morning I shut it off quickly so Sally could sleep longer. I jumped in the shower and as I washed I talked to myself about... well, about who and what I am. "I brought my wife here because she has a date with her lover today. When he arrives I'll open the door for him, then stand aside while he goes to her. I'll sit with them and talk politely until they are ready for bed, then I'll say I hope they have a good time while THAT MAN takes MY WIFE to bed. I'll sit outside their door and listen while she gives him everything, and when they want to take a break I'll make them lunch. When they are finished I'll take my wife, filled with his sperm, home to our house. And I'll be sure to thank them both for letting me be here today. I will NOT interfere, because it's not about me. They are lovers. I'm a cuckold." Ted was on time. Just after 9 a.m. he knocked on the door and I let him in. Sally was sitting on the couch in a black negligee... and nothing else. As she reached up to kiss him I saw her pubic hair, and as always happens at the beginning of their dates, I had a momentary thought that I should remind her we have company and she's exposed. It only takes a second for me to remember that Ted knows what she looks like, and that she's dressed -- rather, undressed -- that way for HIM. But it never fails to tie my stomach in a knot that won't unravel for hours. I dutifully served breakfast to each of them, and even went down to the lobby to get hot coffee for them. I know I break several land speed records whenever I go out on an errand, as I hate missing even a moment of the short time they spend in the living room. But when I returned they were still eating, and they took their time over coffee, too. Finally, Ted reached for Sally and began kissing her as his hand started wandering over her negligee. He loves my wife's tits, and he quickly moved from feeling her through the fabric to sliding the right strap off her shoulder. I sat in the chair facing them as Ted exposed my wife's right breast. As soon as her nipple came into view he let out an appreciative gasp, as if he had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life, and he lowered his mouth to suck on it. When his mouth closed around it, Sally's head rolled back and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensation. Then, as her lover continued to suck on one nipple and caress the other, she opened her eyes, looked at me and smiled. Sally and I talk about everything. Nothing is off limits between us, so we are as comfortable speaking to each other as anyone I know. Nevertheless, when I saw my wife smiling at me as her lover sucked on her naked tit, I was speechless. Her look was a combination of pleasure, comfort, satisfaction and love, and I would not have broken the mood even if I had been able to think of something to say. I tried to smile back at her, but I was filled with excitement, pain, humiliation, shame and yes, love, too. I must have looked sick to my stomach, but she understood. It was Sally who finally broke the silence, but not by speaking to me. She pulled Ted's face to hers, kissed him deeply and said, "You can have the other one, too, but I think we should leave him alone for that." Ted stood up immediately and helped her to her feet. They put their arms around each other's waists and said, "Paul, we're leaving you now." The last image I had of my wife was her standing there with one breast exposed, arm in arm with her lover as they walked away from me. I usually rip off my clothes and head for "my place" outside the bedroom door as soon as I hear the door close. This time it took a few minutes for me to catch my breath. Sure, I had seen him undress her in the living room before, but it was always after I had asked them to do that for me. This time I hadn't said or even hinted anything; I just watched. What I saw was my wife's lover touching her as if she were his; as if her husband didn't matter at all. Not only couldn't I speak; I could hardly breathe. By the time I got settled outside their door, the sounds of their lovemaking were already in full swing. I heard Ted moaning and groaning, so I assumed that she was going down on him. When I heard a loud kissing noise at the same time as he moaned, I knew she was kissing his cock. Clearly she was getting him VERY excited, as his noises grew in volume and in pitch. Then the kissing sounds were replaced with "that sound" -- the special intake of breath which I've described before; the one Sally makes when Ted's cock slides into her pussy. As he moaned and she gasped I remembered why I was sitting outside the door: because I've never been able to make my wife feel the way he does -- the way he was doing right now. They fucked intensely for a short time, until the unmistakable sound of Ted cumming filled my ears as he filled my wife. I don't think I will ever get used to that sound; nothing sounds like an orgasm, and hearing the pleasure which my wife makes him feel tears my heart out, while simultaneously driving me so close to the edge that I have to stop masturbating to keep from cumming along with him. This time it almost seemed I could hear him pumping his semen into her... and as I learned later on, that is exactly what I was hearing. Ted had barely finished cumming when I heard Sally's vibrator start up. As she got more and more excited, Ted encouraged her with words which I could not make out, but which were clearly meant to make her feel beautiful, and sexy, and safe in his arms. Ted gets SO excited when he feels Sally getting off, and I could measure her excitement by the tone of his voice. When she finally came I heard a mixture of her gasps, his groans and the bed shaking, all of which went on for a VERY long time. I was so caught up in the experience that it was only in the quiet which followed that I felt cuckolded again. I realized that HE had just seen and felt MY WIFE orgasm in his arms; that he had seen her face, felt her body, held her skin against his skin as she surrendered to the pleasure they were sharing. It is such a strange feeling to know that another man knows the most intimate secrets about my wife, and as Ted often reminds me, he even knows secrets that she has never revealed to me. Whatever they might have done on earlier dates because I asked them to, I knew now that what they did together in bed was because THEY wanted to. My wife wanted to fuck Ted. My wife wanted Ted to cum in her. My wife wanted to cum in Ted's arms. Not mine. My reverie of self-flagellation was short-lived, as Ted's moaning stopped me cold. It had been just a few minutes since he had cum, so I expected a long period of quiet talking. Yet there was no question that Sally was sucking his cock again, and that he was enjoying it... and her. More surprising was when Sally made "that sound" again, and Ted's moaning got louder -- fast. I heard the bed moving rhythmically, and Ted's groans matched the sound of the bed. They were fucking again! Now, Ted is over 60 years old, so the fact that he could get hard again so fast brought back my "he's so much better than I am" theme with a vengeance. And when he cried out "Ohhh, I'm cumming!!" it cut through me like a knife. In less than an hour they fucked twice, he came in my wife twice, and she had a long, huge orgasm. While I masturbated myself raw, listening outside the door. I expected them to be quiet now, and they were. And were, and were. That first hour had been intense (for everyone), but I didn't hear much for the whole next hour. I thought they might be sleeping, but there was just enough movement and quiet conversation to tell me that they were relaxing together. It went on so long that I lost my erection and couldn't get it back, so I slipped away from the door and went out to the living room. In all the cuckolding stories, including mine, what you read is mostly about the high points; the special moments that knock your socks off. But cuckolding is mostly about emptiness and shame; days or weeks, or months, or even years with no sex; sitting outside the lovers' bedroom, or sitting at home while your wife fucks another man; watching porn and imagining what it's like to make a woman feel that way, imagining what it's like to have a woman want you that way; jerking off and trying to pretend it's as good as sex. Or reading the newspaper because your wife and her lover are spending quiet hours together without a single thought about you. After a half an hour, I was bored. After an hour I was sulking. It took all the self-control I had not to knock on their door and ask them what was going on. But I reminded myself over and over that I was doing what a cuckold is supposed to do: sit and wait, while the lovers enjoy each other. I read the whole USA Today, which is not saying much. I even read the sections I wasn't interested in, just to have something to do. I debated about turning on the TV, but I thought it would disturb them (but didn't I really WANT to disturb them? I didn't do it, anyway). My mind wandered, so at first I thought I was hearing things when Ted called me. I raced back to the bedroom door and asked what he wanted; he said, "Come in; Sally needs her coffee reheated." I opened the door and tried to take in everything in front of me: Sally's negligee on the floor at my feet, Ted's clothes thrown over the chair, the bedspread and sheet (which I had painstakingly made up while Sally was getting dressed) looked like a wrestling match had taken place in them, and the lovers -- Sally and Ted, my wife and THAT MAN -- were cuddled together under the sheet. Ted handed me the coffee cup and said, "Sally didn't get to finish this before. Would you please warm it up for her?" A simple request. One made thousands of times every day. But as I took the cup from my wife's lover and left THEIR bedroom, I realized how excited I was to be asked to do something for them. Just having them talk to me, acknowledging that I existed in their private, sexual world even for something as mundane as reheating a cup of coffee, revived my spirit AND my penis. I brought the cup back to them, knocking on the door even though it was partly open. It is clear to all of us that the bedroom is their place, their space, and I would never enter it without their permission. When the said to come in I walked around the bed and placed the cup on Sally's night table. I was just turning to leave when Ted said, "Your wife is a WONDERFUL lover." I looked at him -- at them -- and saw them lying together in bed. Sally was on her back and Ted's right arm was under her head. He was on his side, his body pressed tightly against hers under the sheet. His left hand was caressing her breasts, which were exposed above the sheet. Before I could think about responding, he continued. "I was just saying that Sally gets better and better. She was wonderful when we started 11 years ago, but she just keeps getting better. She is more open, more giving, more adventurous each time. She is an AMAZING lover -- do you know that?" While he had ended with a question, it was obvious he was not looking for an answer. He turned to Sally and kissed her deeply, his hand never stopping its exploration of her tits. He rubbed them, traced their outlines against her chest, squeezed her nipples ... I stood there and masturbated. When he finished speaking I thought I should say something, but I had no words. Think about it: What DOES a husband say to his wife's lover, when he tells you what a great lover she is while he feels her up in their bed? I was speechless, and Ted allowed a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as they kissed and I jerked off. Finally he said, "Okay, enough for you. Please leave us alone." I wanted to stay. I DESPERATELY wanted to stay. I had just spent an hour doing nothing, hearing nothing and seeing nothing, and I tried to hold on to this exciting scene as long as possible. But I knew better than to ignore Ted's instructions, so without pausing in my masturbating I walked to the hallway and closed the door behind me. I figured they would be out for lunch soon, anyway, so I headed back to the living room to see if there was any part of the paper I hadn't read yet. Just before I got to the end of the hallway, I heard a noise. It couldn't be, I thought; he had cum twice already. But I didn't move (except my hand stroking my cock), and I listened. Sure enough, there it was again -- there HE was again. Definitely a groan, a sex noise. By the time I got back to my place outside the door, it was clear that Sally was sucking Ted's cock again. A little conversation, a little laughter, and then once again, "that sound." Ted let out a moan as Sally sucked in her breath, and I knew he was fucking my wife. THREE times in two hours? Or had I been mistaken -- had he fucked her earlier, but not cum? A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 18 My question was answered when Sally called out my name. "Yes?" I answered. "Come here," she said, over Ted's groans. I opened the door again, and saw Ted fucking my wife. Right in front of my eyes. Sally was on her back, legs spread wide, and Ted was on top of her, fucking her. Sally looked right at me -- naked, her tits pointing up at her lover, her legs moving back and forth as she did pelvic thrusts on his cock -- and SHE SMILED AT ME. "This is after he's cum twice," she said. I can't remember when I've seen her look as happy as she was right then. Her face reflected pleasure, satisfaction and the sexiness which comes from knowing she just got a man hard three times in a morning. And what did she want to do with that happiness? She wanted to show ME. There wasn't a hint that she wanted me to join in; nothing could have been further from her mind. There wasn't a hint that she wanted my cock, in spite of the fact that it was right in front of her, hard as a rock. She didn't want to touch me, or kiss me; she certainly didn't want to fuck me. She just wanted to show me how wonderful it was for her to be with Ted, and she felt safe knowing that I am a cuckold and would never interfere. "He feels so good inside me," she said, and once again, I was speechless. I knew that saying anything would ruin it, but even if I wanted to ruin it, words failed me. My wife asked me to see how well her lover fucks her, and how well she fucks her lover; no book of etiquette contains the proper response in that situation. Ted couldn't cum again, so after a few minutes he laid down on my wife and kissed her gently. She told me to go get lunch ready, that they would be out soon. So once again I closed the door on the lovers, and I went to prepare their meal. Lunch was normal, if you can call a woman and her lover eating lunch while her husband jerks off on the couch nearby "normal." Sally wore just her robe, so I could see most of her breasts. Of course, all she cared about was that TED could see most of her breasts. Ted wore his button-down shirt and nothing else, so whenever he walked around his cock showed itself below the hem. They talked about food, about jobs, about the normal things that friends talk about over lunch. I actually had to remind myself that they had just fucked, since there was nothing at all exciting about their conversation. At the end of lunch Sally got up and said, "Let's go back to bed." Ted did not need to ask twice. The moment the door closed I heard her vibrator start, and in just a few minutes I heard her grunt -- her orgasm grunt -- and once again I felt the bed shake through the floor. As I masturbated to the sounds of my wife cumming, I realized that their entire lunch conversation had been foreplay for her, getting her ready to cum in her lover's arms again. Their conversation was now louder and more relaxed, and I knew they were reaching the end of their date. When I heard Ted's belt buckle I went back to the living room. Taking my seat in the chair I was in when he arrived, I waited for him to emerge. Often, he will sit with me and talk about what happened; sometimes he just says "thank you" and leaves. Years ago, when he first started talking with me (which was right after they asked me to leave them alone on their dates), I was horribly embarrassed to be jerking off in front of a fully-dressed man. But after hearing him describe in exquisite detail how he fucked my wife, I lost all self-respect and just masturbated like a madman, trying not to cum as I heard what he did, what she did... what THEY did. This time, Ted sat with me for a long time. How long, I have no idea. He went on and on about how wonderful it was, how she got him hard right away, how she got him hard AGAIN right away, how he told her he'd never be able to cum a second time, and how she took that as a personal challenge. He said she gave him the best blowjob he'd ever had, and when she had gotten him good and hard she got on top of him, guided his cock into her pussy and, in his words, "she fucked the cum out of me." I asked him, please, to tell me what it was like to cum in my wife. He got a faraway look in his eyes and said, "The first time, when I got really close, I pushed all the way inside her. I said to her, 'I want to cum deep inside you,' and I did. I got as far into her as I could and just held myself there while I pumped my semen into her. She felt warm all around my cock, and as I pumped I felt the semen squirting into her. It was like heaven." What would YOU have said? If I were a real man, I would have punched him out. If I were a wimp, I would have run away and cried. But I am a cuckold, so I just sat there with cum dribbling out of my penis, nodding in agreement as if our conversation was the most normal thing in the world. After a few minutes of watching me shake, watching me try to formulate something to say in response, Ted got up, told me to let Sally sleep for a half hour, and thanked me for bringing my wife for him to fuck. I think I croaked out, "You're welcome," but I'm not sure. I am sure my response did not matter. When Ted left I sat on the floor and masturbated. I felt beaten up and ashamed of myself, but I could not stop jerking off. This is what it means to be a cuckold, I thought. I can get upset at what is happening in my life and at all I have lost, or I can accept it and do my best to get off on it. I choose to get off on it. After 25 minutes I cleaned myself up (I still hadn't cum; experience has shown me that we should be home and done with it before I cum, since if I don't have that sexual tension the shame and pain become overwhelming). I quietly entered the bedroom -- which was still THEIR bedroom -- and saw my wife sleeping soundly, completely naked; just the way Ted had left her. I woke her gently; she smiled and asked how I was. "I'm fine," I said. "How about you?" "I'm GREAT. Satisfied and well-fucked." As she adjusted her eyes to the light, she saw I was already dressed. I could sense relief in her expression, as it meant I was not going to want to jerk off with her or try to talk about sex. She kissed me gently and asked me to get her clothes while she took a quick shower. As she walked naked to the bathroom I tried to picture Ted's sperm, which I knew were swimming up through her womb. The drive home was peaceful; she said a few things about how great he was and about how wet she was for him, and I didn't push for more details. When we got home our son was waiting for us, so after she pulled out something to defrost for dinner, I asked her if we could talk alone downstairs in my office. When she came down and shut the office door, I said I wanted to ask her a favor. I haven't masturbated in her presence even once in the nearly-three years since she stopped fucking me, other than when she was with Ted. But I asked her if I could jerk off while we talked. She seemed hesitant until I promised I wouldn't cum while she was in the room; with that, she felt better and agreed. As I masturbated I talked to her about how much it all hurt me: seeing Ted handle her tits, hearing the sex that I never get to have, seeing them lying together, seeing Ted fucking her. I asked her whose idea it was to invite me into the room when they were fucking, and she said it was hers. She said it felt so good -- all of it -- the sex, the cuckolding, and especially the fact that I had stopped trying to run things, that she wanted to show me how she felt. I told her she had a beautiful smile the whole time I watched them, and she said, "I know. My smile was real. I love fucking Ted and I love knowing you are my cuckold. I'm glad you enjoyed it." "Also," she added shyly, "I think I wanted to gloat." I wrestled with her answer for a minute, and then brought up a difficult subject. "I don't think we can go back, you know. I've seen too much, and we've said too much, to go back to a regular, you-and-I sex life. The pain really excites me, but after being cuckolded by you for so long I'll never be able to be the kind of lover that Ted is." My wife -- my loving, caring, sexy wife of 26 years -- took my left hand in both her hands, looked at me with a mixture of love and sadness and said, "You never were." A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 19 Chapter 19 -- "Dear Paul" April 2010 This is the letter my wife, Sally, wrote to me after her lover came to our house for the first time. If you don't like cuckolding, then please don't read this -- it will upset you. If you read it anyway, please don't write to tell me how much it upset you! Sincerely, Cuckold Paul **** Dear Paul, I still wonder why the time with Ted was so wonderful and so ... easy. I dreaded having him in the house and it turned out to be better that I ever expected and yes, it was good to have great sex in our bed... something I haven't felt in many of the years we have been married. Being in bed with him, fucking him, being held and caressed by him felt SO good -- so unique -- that all I could think was, "what was I thinking when I avoided this?" I never thought I could feel this way in bed, and I certainly couldn't expect it after all these years of dashed expectations. I thought it was me, but apparently it wasn't given the obvious reactions of my body. Lying there, wrapped in his arms after we both came (the first time), I felt good about what we were doing, and sad that you could never do that for me... or with me. Do you know why I call you to come in when Ted and I are together? Not just to show you what you are missing, but hoping beyond hope that you might figure out how it's done. You may be reconciled to this "non-sex" sex as long as I make sure that we find time each day to point out how clueless you are in bed, but frankly, it's pretty dry for me between sessions with Ted, and unlike you, I don't get anything out of abstinence except, well, abstinence. I want you to see how I feel when you see me in Ted's arms: I want you to see how he never stops touching me; I wanted you to see him holding me, and me reaching back to stroke him. Then I realize I don't want you there, because the familiar worry creeps in: "What if he thinks he can take me back? What if he gets tired of this arrangement ad we have to go back to what was in between dates? What if I don't get to fuck Ted again?" I actually didn't think about what would happen after he came the second time, squirting his cum all over my tits; I just invited you back in as quickly as I could so I wouldn't gross myself out. I mean, who in hell wants to lick the lover's cum off his wife's tits? What kind of man does this without completely demeaning himself? What kind of man are you?? Who eats cum? Women, gay men, and, I guess, cuckolds. But not MEN. You are not a woman, and I have it on good experience that you are not gay, so you must be a cuckold. Whatever you are, after watching you lick up Ted's cum after he and I had sex, I cannot think of you the same way anymore. That experience changed the way I see you. It's going to feel strange going back to the hotel because we had this experience in our house, in our bed. Even the feel of the sheets makes me remember how good it felt not to have your bumbling efforts - and yes, sometimes frankly painful efforts - repeated. I was sick and tired of reliving the past, but now, I associate sex in our bed with Ted, not with you. I need you to remember what we looked like when I dove under the covers and started sucking on Ted's cock. I want you to remember what it sounded like when you heard him moaning, knowing what I was doing for him, and to him, and with him. As I felt him grow and harden in my mouth I wanted to show you what you have lost. Did it HURT you, or were you so excited the thrill overcame the hurt? I want you to see me giving him pleasure that you have never felt. Even without seeing you, because I was under the covers and loving every minute of it, I knew that everything I was doing to him was traveling like electricity from his cock to his face to your gut: "This is what I do for Ted and not you." When you asked Ted to pull down the covers so you could see me, I didn't feel at all self-conscious. Actually, I felt inspired. I made love to his cock right in front of you, and I kept thinking, "Don't ever forget what I look like with Ted's cock in my mouth." I don't think I was giving expression to all the years of sexual frustration I felt in our bed... but maybe I was. Things have changed for us and I need you to understand the changes. Paul, you are a wonderful husband, a great father and my bestest friend. None of that has changed at all. But after Sunday night, I just cannot think of you as a man who can make me feel like a woman. I am comfortable seeing you naked, but "comfortable" doesn't mean excited. You don't turn me on at all. All I have to do is remember what it looked like and felt like having you lick up my lover's cum, and the very thought of sex with you turns me off completely. It has been 3 ½ years since we stopped having sex on a regular basis, and as I said to you last week, sex between us has been over for a long, long time... and now I know without any doubt that it is over FOREVER. I used to imagine what it might be like to be one of those couples who love to fuck each other. I don't anymore. I know it will never work that way between us. And yes, I'll still honor my promise of a mercy fuck on our anniversary each year, but you need to know that it will be a gesture of friendship, not of sex. We both know that what I give you on our anniversary fuck isn't even a fraction of the passion I give him every time. But you can get off in me once a year, as long as you accept that you can't have more. Ever. Remember: Ted makes me wet -- every time. He makes me excited every time. He makes me cum -- HARD -- every time. And maybe most important of all, he makes me want him. Every time. And since Ted loves my breasts so much, they are now off limits to you except by invitation. When I ask you to wash them in the shower, or put moisturizing cream on them, you are welcome to do it, but otherwise, you need to stop. My breasts are, frankly not just some of my best parts but the very essence of my being a woman, and I need you to stop pretending to be something you are not by touching them. I know my breasts were the first thing you noticed about me, and I know you love looking at them even after all these years. You are welcome to keep looking, but when you first touched them I thought they were being touched by a man. Now that you are a friend -- my bestest friend -- I want my sex to be for the man who turns me on. This will be hard for you, but it is important. The next time you see me with Ted, and see how his hands never leave my breasts, you will know why I love that. Something really has changed, and both of us need to realize that. I do love you, Paul. I love you so much that even learning you cannot satisfy me sexually will not tear us apart. But it will change things. It already has. It hurts me, too, but somehow we have found a way to grow our love in spite of all the pain. I love you forever, my friend. Sally A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 20 May 11, 2010 A Cuckold's Diary Chapter 31: GRATITUDE Those of you who are cuckolds will understand this; others may not. Over the years, I've tried to explain to my wife, Sally, that "I can handle it if you ignore me, as long as you TELL ME you're ignoring me." Or, in shorter form, "You can ignore me, but please don't IGNORE me." Today, on Sally's date with her lover, Ted, she ignored me. But she didn't IGNORE me. And I am so grateful for what she shared – what THEY shared – that I feel no jealousy, no anger, no resentment. I feel like a cuckold – a very, very grateful cuckold. If you read Chapter 30 of my Diary, you saw the letter Sally wrote to me after Ted came to our house for the first time. In that letter she said that she would give me a "mercy fuck" once a year on our anniversary, as long as I understood that I am not getting more than that, EVER. I read what she had written and it excited me, but at the time I did not realize how much she meant what she had said. Today I realized it. And accepted it. And was grateful. I also spoke to Ted after he read the letter, and after he wrote a BEAUTIFUL response to my wife, assuring her that the best was yet to come for the two of them. I told him that I had asked Sally to help me by showing me what I have lost, and what I asked of him was to humiliate me. When he asked me to clarify what I meant, I said, "Just be a MAN. Make it clear that what my wife sees in you is the MAN she wants inside her. When you act like a man with her, and with me, you force me to think of myself as something else... as something less." He said he could do that, and on today's date he proved true to his word, too. We didn't have a lot of build-up to today's date, as we were both working very hard over the past week. In fact, last night she said she thought she was coming down with a cold, but when I offered to postpone the date she said, "No way. I'd cancel if it was for you, but it's for ME." So, fortified with a few cups of coffee and some cold tablets, she came out to meet her lover when he arrived at our hotel room just after 9 am. She wore a negligee instead of a bra and panties, because she said it would give him better access to her tits... the tits which her letter told me were off limits to me from now on. She and Ted chatted for just a few minutes before he began to kiss her and feel her up. They each made a half-hearted attempt to keep a G-rated conversation going a little longer, but their effort was spectacularly unsuccessful. Soon, Ted was kneeling on top of her on the living room couch, and my wife was wrapping her legs around his still-dressed legs. They made out right in front of me like a couple of teenagers, and I watched in silence while she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him toward her. I watched my wife pull her negligee off one breast, and then the other. She offered her breasts to him right in front of me, knowing full well that she had just told me I was never to touch them again without her express permission. Ted, having read the letter too, dove to her nipples like a suckling baby. I saw him – and heard him – suck my wife's nipples until her whole body was responding to his mouth. I usually spend moments like this moving around, trying to get a better view or to involve myself in some way in their sex. But somehow I knew today was different, and I accepted it without a word. I sat in my chair across the room from them, and I think I held my breath the whole time they made out. I remember studying them, looking for any sign of hesitation or ambivalence about what they were doing, and found none. They fell into each other's arms, and even in the restricted space of the small couch it was clear they felt good together. When they got up to go to the bedroom, Sally didn't do anything to pull her negligee back up to cover her breasts. As she stood, my eyes never left her nipples which were jutting out with excitement and, I think, with pride. I glanced away from them only long enough to see that Ted's eyes didn't leave them, either. My last image of them as they walked to the bedroom was of him staring at my wife's naked tits. Yes, it hurt to see her give her tits to HIM so happily, especially when the words of her letter were still fresh in my mind. But remembering the letter, I realized that Sally had taken special care to show me what I had lost, and what Ted had found. She had specifically given him her tits in front of me, BECAUSE of what she had written. She showed me that she was ignoring me, and long after the door closed behind them I felt the emotional sting of what she had done. It hurt, but it felt right, and I felt... grateful. What they were doing felt RIGHT. What an extraordinary statement! How does it happen that a happily married man, a husband and father of more than 27 years, thinks it is RIGHT for another man to take his wife to bed right in front of him? We are in no way "swingers"; this isn't a "your turn, now my turn" arrangement. Over the past 12 years I have tried to describe the path we have taken, and reading back over my Diary I see that the path was always leading HERE. We could not have gotten here sooner – not without hurting one or both of us, and quite possibly ruining our marriage. But here we are: my wife loves me in every way except sexually. For sex – not just sex, but for a sexual relationship – she has Ted. HIM. Him, not me. I have no way of explaining why I believe I am supposed to be outside the bedroom door during sex, but I know I am. I know it feels right to be there. Oh yes, it feels terrible, without a doubt, to be excluded from everything that they share behind that door, but when I hear my wife responding to him the way she does, and when I hear him getting off with my wife the way he does, and when I see how hard my penis is in my own hand while I listen, I know we are all in the right place. And when they make the effort to show me what they are doing to me, my acceptance of all of this is complete. The first 45 minutes of their bedroom time was "normal," in the sense that I heard the sounds I always hear when they are together. Clothing coming off, sheets rustling, moaning and sighing... gasping. And a LOT of kissing. Sometimes I can tell who is kissing what: when Ted groans while I hear kissing noises, I know Sally is kissing his cock. When I hear her gasp along with kissing noises, I know he is kissing her nipples or her clit. Other times I can't tell, but I know I am hearing the sounds of sex. Today, those sounds were exceptionally passionate; they seemed that way to me, and each of them confirmed it later. Their experience at our home, and the letter Sally wrote, combined to give them a renewed sense of comfort, excitement and yes, passion. Sally had an INTENSE orgasm. I heard it, I felt the floor shake and I heard Ted groan as he held her and watched her cum. As I listened, I thought about Sally's explanation that I didn't know how to make her cum, and how the best thing I can do to help her cum when we are at home is to leave her alone to masturbate by herself. But, she said, Ted knows EXACTLY what to do: he knows how to hold her, how to caress her, how to kiss her and even how to talk to her, bringing her to the edge and making her WANT to let go in his arms. She was right; I heard it with my own ears. Ted shared my wife's orgasm with her – a pleasure I have lost – and I sat outside the door, where I belong. Then, it was Ted's turn. I didn't know at the time that when he went to enter Sally she threw her legs up over his shoulders, but I did know that whatever she was doing, it was making him feel very, very good. I knew he was getting what I am supposed to get, and what I will never get again. (Sally says I actually NEVER got that, because she never fucked me the way she fucks him.) I looked down at my penis, hard as a rock and dripping pre-cum, and thought about never being allowed to feel what Ted was feeling right then. Again, I didn't have any desire to change things; not to fuck, or even to open the door to watch them fucking. Instead, I felt what is surely an oxymoron: exciting resignation. THIS is why I drove Sally to Pennsylvania last night; THIS is why I made a reservation for a suite; THIS is why I helped her get ready. Sally and Ted are lovers, and I am the cuckold husband. As I heard Ted cum – as I heard my wife make Ted cum in her – I felt grateful. Grateful that I can get excited by being cuckolded, that I can find my sexual place and sexual pleasure in being excluded from sex, and grateful to my wife and to her lover for allowing me to be... nearby. Not proud, but surprisingly grateful. Later, after we got home, Sally told me that she really appreciated how well I behaved today. I tried to explain what was different, but I could not come up with the right words at the time. Now I know that "grateful" is the word I was looking for, and Sally, I hope this explains what was different. I am so, SO grateful. I had asked Sally to remind me of what I have lost, and I had asked Ted to act like a man with my wife. In the minute after Ted came, they each fulfilled my request so powerfully that I still shudder when I think of it. Just after hearing Ted cum, I heard "squishing" sounds. My thought was that Sally had taken some massage oil and was stroking his cock, and honestly it sounded like she had used too much. But as I listened, she called me to open the door and come in. When I entered, I saw my wife – my naked wife – lying on her back with Ted between her legs, still fucking her. He was moving in and out of her slowly, gently; it was clear they were both enjoying the post-orgasm feelings of their bodies joined together. With each gentle push into her, I heard that "squishing" sound, and it was Sally who said, "Do you hear that? That's US." When she said it, Ted kissed her on the lips and added, "That's my cum inside her." In the past, I would have talked to them. I would have asked them questions, or tried to get them to say what I wanted to hear them say. But not today. Today, I felt... grateful. I stood at the door, masturbating as much as I could without cumming, watching them and listening to them "squish." I saw them – THEM – joined together. I saw my wife and her lover in their bed, comfortable not only with what they had done, but with showing me. My wife showed me what I have lost, and Ted showed me that HE just fucked my wife and came in her body. After a few minutes, they said it was time for me to leave. I said, "of course," and gently closed the door behind me. I returned to my seat outside their bedroom door, and tried to assimilate what I had just seen and heard. Yes, I was alone again, outside the door and by myself, while they lay in each other's arms in their bed. But they took the time to show me – to show me fucking, to show me pleasure, to show me cuckolding, to show me what it sounds like when Ted's cock slides into my wife's pussy when it is filled with his cum. I was SO excited that the next half-hour passed without my even noticing. I was roused from my erotic reverie by Ted's voice. "Paul, come in here, please." I opened the door again, and saw him spooning Sally. She was facing toward me, and her breasts were exposed above the blankets. Well, one breast was exposed; the other was covered by his hand, which was caressing it as I entered. Without missing a beat, without any sense that they should stop what they were doing when Sally's husband came in, Ted asked me to reheat his cup of coffee. "Of course," I said, and picked up the cup from the bedside table. It took about three minutes to go to the kitchen, microwave the coffee and return to the bedroom. When I came back, the scene had changed. Sally was turned toward him, her hand was gently stroking his cock, and he was... HARD. Very hard. And, as you might imagine, very excited. I put down the cup and explained that I didn't want to microwave a styrofoam cup so I had poured the coffee into a regular coffee cup in the kitchen. Ted and Sally both thanked me, but even during my brief explanation I saw Ted jumping and shuddering as Sally stroked his cock. I saw her stroke the shaft, then caress his balls, then slide her hand up to the head and rub it until he spasmed with pleasure. I realized that I hadn't seen Ted hard in a long time; when they had invited me in on earlier dates, it was usually when they were both done and satisfied. I stood there discussing coffee cups while my wife stroked her lover's cock, and both his erection and his reactions gave me yet another sign of what they have together... and I don't. They let me watch their hand job for a while, then quietly told me it was time to leave them alone. Again, I could not argue; they had shared so much with me that I quickly closed the door behind me as I left. Sitting on "my" chair I contemplated the vision of his hard cock in my wife's delicate hand, and my sense of gratitude grew along with my hard-on. They kissed and played for 20 minutes or so, then Sally called to me to ask me to prepare lunch for them. (See a previous chapter of my Diary for thoughts on how erotic Wegman's can be, when you're there to buy lunch for your wife and her lover!) I quickly set out their meals and drinks, and had just taken a seat on the nearby couch when Sally came out. She was, as usual, wearing her robe – ONLY her robe – but it was pulled closed around her as she made her way to the small "kitchenette" table and sat down. Ted followed, wearing HIS normal attire, too – just his shirt. But this, too, was different today. Ted usually wears a business shirt which buttons down the front, and even when it's all he is wearing the shirttails cover his cock and his ass pretty well. Today he was wearing a polo shirt which covered... nothing. As he walked over to the table I noted that his cock was in what I call "the on-deck position"; certainly not hard, but not completely soft, either. The size that says, "I'm not done." As he sat down, Sally pulled her robe completely open, exposing her tits to him and to me. She pointed to his salad and said, "Eat up." Ted, staring at her nipples, said, "WHAT do you want me to eat??" My wife just smiled in response. Nothing overtly sexual ever happens during their lunches. They talk about work, family and their latest cell phone obsessions (Ted's with his new Blackberry, Sally's with her Droid). In fact, if you didn't notice their serious lack of clothing, you would not think they were anything more than friends. In the past, that has made it difficult for me; I would keep hoping they would SAY something or DO something, or at least TOUCH something sexual, but I didn't feel that way today. Today I spent that time picturing what they had shared with me, and thinking about what they had NOT shared with me, and I was content to sit on the couch and masturbate quietly while they ate. Just as they finished, Sally got a call from one of our kids. He needed to talk to her about something for a few minutes, and when Ted saw that she would be a while he got up and moved over to a chair in the living room area, across from me. He asked me about the kid on the phone – what he's up to, what he's concerned about – and then asked about the others. Then he mentioned how much he was enjoying my wife, and how good they felt together. We talked, sotto voce, for a while, as Sally continued to give advice to our son. The only thing we did NOT talk about was the fact that Ted didn't feel the need or the desire to cover his penis and balls as we spoke, so the whole time we talked I was confronted with the startling fact that this man was waiting for my wife to finish her call so he could fuck her again. As I masturbated (modesty and dignity being casualties of this relationship many years ago), I realized that Ted was doing what I had asked: he was being a MAN and, by extension, he was making me feel less than a man. There is no way to say "thank you" for that, so I will have to let this be my thank-you. Ted, I really, really appreciate your helping me to understand and accept each of our places in this strange and wonderful relationship! Apparently I wasn't the only one staring at Ted's cock. As soon as Sally finished her phone call she got up and walked toward Ted. He got up, too, and they met and embraced in the middle of the living room. Sally started with her hands around his back as they kissed, then she moved them to his ass, and then she moved them to his cock. I couldn't actually see when she reached his cock, but he shook and moaned when her hands found their mark. After no more than 15 seconds of that, my wife turned toward the bedroom and literally led him away by his cock. As always, they went at it with intensity as soon as the bedroom door closed behind them. Lunch, talking and staring at each other's bodies seem to be powerful aphrodisiacs for both of them, and it wasn't long before the moans, groans and gasps started up. From what I could tell, they were having one of their mutual masturbation sessions where they kiss and touch and suck while Sally uses her vibrator and Ted jerks off. Ted came first. It was a POWERFUL orgasm which left me wondering if the people in the next hotel, not just the next room, heard his pleasure. It went on forever, too, and I heard my wife panting as she felt him cum and got herself off. When she came it rivaled his in intensity and volume – she was much louder than she usually allows herself to be in as public place as a hotel. Not only did her "aftershocks" go on for a long time, but in the middle of them she called me to come in. When I entered I saw my wife and her lover, naked and holding each other tightly. Sally was still convulsing every 15 seconds or so, and Ted's cum was dripping across her hip and down into her pubic hair. "It's time for you to lick up his cum," Sally said. And so I did. As my wife shook with pleasure from the orgasm she had shared with HIM, I bent over and licked up his semen from the orgasm he had shared with HER. I licked his bitter fluid off my wife's hip, then sucked on her pubic hair to extract the jism that was tangled in it. Once again, as I performed this gross and humiliating act, I realized that they were each helping me to accept the way things are: my wife was shaking from cumming with him, his semen was dripping down her body from cumming with her, and I was masturbating as they showed me what I would never, ever know again... and never really did. When I finished, they literally fell into each other's arms. They held each other so passionately and so gently that it was simply beautiful to watch. I thought about leaving them alone, but decided I could stay if I was quiet and did not interrupt. Apparently I succeeded because they let me watch them for quite a while. Actually it was Sally who let me watch them; Ted didn't notice I was there! I stood at the foot of the bed, masturbating without a sound, as they kissed and cuddled together. Only when Sally's hand went down to Ted's cock and he started to respond did she gently ask me to leave them alone again. They spent another half-hour together, then Ted dressed and came out to leave. He stood in front of me as I jerked off, and all I could think was, "this is the man who just spent four hours in bed with my wife, kissing and fucking and sucking her; the man who held her while she came, and who came in her and on her; the man whose semen I licked off my wife's body. What do I say to him that would mean ANYTHING?" But before I could answer my own question, he told again what a wonderful time he had in bed with my wife, and he thanked me for bringing her to him. I said he was very welcome and I, in turn, thanked him for treating my wife so well, for giving her what I have never been able to give her, and for doing so much to show me that HE is the man my wife wants inside her. He said I was very, VERY welcome. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 20 After he left, I went to the bedroom. Sally was just getting out of bed, and I continued to jerk off as I looked at my wife and thought about everything she had done with him, and without me. As I stood in front of my very naked and very satisfied wife, she thanked me for letting her fuck him, for understanding that she doesn't want to fuck me, and for being so "well behaved" during their date. I said she was very welcome and I, in turn, thanked her for allowing me to be so close to sex, and for showing me over and over what I have lost. She said I was very, VERY welcome. The dictionary defines "gratitude" as, "the state of being grateful." I brought my wife to fuck her lover today, and at the end of their date each of us said "thank you" to the others. We are, indeed, grateful. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 21 Chapter 21 What a Cuckold Needs November 2010 Introduction Putting aside all the cliches and porn visions of cuckolding, my wife Sally and I have found it to be a wonderful part of our marriage for the past nearly-13 years of our 27 years together. She does not hate me, she is not a bitch, and she certainly didn't marry me for my money. What we do and how we do it is the result of many years of living together and loving together, along with the assistance and advice of her very caring lover, Ted. This story is about their most recent date, and how our relationship continues to grow and change as we all learn more about it. There's some sex, some humiliation and some "atypical" behavior for a loving couple, so read it at your pleasure or peril. I hope some of you will find it exciting, and others who are wrestling with the real-life issues of cuckolding will find it informative. Maybe even both. Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul October was a tough month. Work was really stressful for Sally and for me, and our kids kept us hopping, too. Amazing that they can all be out of the house and still keep us busy! So while I was really looking forward to the date which Sally and Ted had planned, Sally was completely distracted during the weeks before it. I kept waiting for her to talk about it, to tease me a little or flaunt it a little, but she never did. The 90-minute drive to the hotel the night before was consumed with work calls and kid calls, and even the hour we spent in the hotel bar did not turn the conversation to what was going to happen the next morning. I understood it -- sort of -- but by the time we got to the hotel room, I was upset. I've often said to Sally, "You can ignore me, but please TELL ME you're ignoring me. Otherwise I feel... ignored." That night I felt really, really ignored. And not in a good way. When Sally got into bed I went into the living room of our suite and tried to masturbate, but I couldn't even get hard; I wasn't horny, just angry. I tried to sleep, and that didn't work either. I read the newspaper, read Time magazine, and then read the tourism brochures for Bethlehem, PA. When I realized I was fascinated by the description of the Peeps Christmas Festival, I knew it was bad. In the morning I tried to eat breakfast before waking Sally, but I wasn't hungry. Finally it was time to wake her, and all the anger came out on her just as she was waking up. The bottom line was, this was not working. I could not give up sex without getting something to make it work for me -- that is, without her helping me to feel shame and humiliation enough to explain why we no longer fuck. (If you're not a cuckold, the preceding sentence sounds like the most bizarre statement you've ever read, but cuckolds get it.) I said she could go ahead and have her date with Ted, who was about 15 minutes away from the hotel at the time, but I'd just watch TV and wait for them to finish; there was nothing in me that could get into what they were doing right then. To her credit, and as proof of what comes first in our marriage, Sally said no. She called Ted, briefly explained, and said we needed to cancel the date. We drove home together in silence, but we drove home together. That night, after we each had a drink, I laid out my thoughts. I said Sally had three choices, and I'd accept any one of the three. First, she and I could start having sex again. Second, I could go out to a professional Dominatrix when I needed to be abused. Third, she could step out of her comfort zone and cuckold me in our daily lives, not just once a month when she was on a date with Ted. I asked her to take as much time as she needed to decide what she wanted to do. A day later, she gave me her answer. She didn't want to stop seeing Ted. She didn't want to fuck me. And she didn't want me to go somewhere else, or to someone else, for what I needed sexually. Therefore, she would work on giving me what I needed, so she could have what she wanted. You may ask why this was such a difficult decision for her, but if you have read previous chapters of my Diary you will understand. Sally doesn't just THINK of herself as a Good Girl, she really IS one. She's a great wife, an amazing mother, highly respected in her professional field, and a fine, upstanding member of our community. When she actually agreed to try cuckolding, I could not have been more surprised -- or more pleased. With the help of Ted, who has been her lover for nearly 13 years, she has discovered her Bad Girl side... but has, nevertheless, managed to compartmentalize it. She is a Bad Girl when she is with him, but the BG disappears as soon as we walk out of the hotel room door. It's not an act -- she really IS a Good Girl 99% of the time, and she really IS a Bad Girl on her dates, enjoying every minute with her lover. But trying to get the BG to show her face when she's not with Ted has been... well, it's been a challenge. I can't say Sally changed overnight after our conversation, but she definitely made the effort and she definitely made progress. I asked her not to act -- not to say what cuckolding wives are "supposed to" say -- but just to speak from her heart... her Bad Girl heart. During the weeks before their rescheduled date, she found times to do that. She told me that she had hated sex with me for years. She said it often hurt because she wasn't turned on and never got wet for me. She said that even though Ted is bigger, fucking him never hurt her because of how wet he makes her every time she is with him. She said I didn't know how to make love, and that I didn't even know how to help her when she gets off with her vibrator. She said the best things I've done for her sexually are to bring her to Ted, and to leave the room when she wants to get off. She said she was comfortable with our arrangement that we only have sex once a year on our anniversary. She said she wasn't looking forward to it, but she didn't mind doing that for me once a year as long as I understood that she didn't want more. This didn't come out all at once, but over time she said -- and as far as I could tell, MEANT -- all of it. Of course, being a cuckold is 24/7; any time I think of sex, which is all the time, I remember that I don't get ANY... and HE does. If it were up to me, that would be the #1 topic of conversation every day. But Sally gave me enough to help me accept my place and to be able to get excited about what her affair really means. She also said that she wanted to try using the KY Intense gel we had purchased. I asked who would apply it, and she asked if I had a preference. I told her it would mean a lot to me if Ted did. She agreed, and apparently didn't think much more about it. But I did. The directions on the KY are one sentence long: "During foreplay, massage one drop onto the clitoris." I must have taken out the tube and read those directions a hundred times in the days before her date, because they said much more than that to me. Here were the directions as I read them: "During foreplay, when your wife and her lover are both naked in bed, she will spread her legs so he can get between them. When he has a good, close look at her pussy, she will open her lips and give him complete access to her sex, where he will massage one drop onto her clitoris." I'm thinking of writing to KY and suggesting they produce a version called KY Intense Affair. Same stuff, but with my version of the instructions. Ted thought that was a great idea, too. Actually, during the lead-up time, Ted was really helpful to me in many ways. He has previous experience with D/s, and he understood right away what had been missing on our previous attempt. Over the weeks before this new date we IM'd several times, and while he was -- and is -- a gentleman in all our conversations, he was more assertive, more dominant and yes, more insulting than he had been previously. A brief sample: P: I really am ashamed in front of you. T: rightfully so. your wife wants my cock P: ... and doesn't want mine. EVER. T: I'll take care of her cock needs P: thank you. what else can i say? P: when you arrive, we will both know that you're going to cum in my wife... T: maybe on her T: as long as she wants it, i am very happy to fuck her P: thank you (Nice that Yahoo IM has an "archive" feature, no? I can't tell you how many times I've reviewed these conversations. When I do, I can't help but use my BS detector: is Ted saying the words he's supposed to say, or words he really means? Occasionally I wonder, but once I see him with my wife I realize it's MY desire to protect what's left of my self-esteem that keeps me from accepting his words at face value. He may fuck my wife, but he's always been honest with me. And our conversations really helped during those dry spells when Sally wasn't "sharing.") Monday evening finally arrived. When we got in the car to drive to the hotel Sally said, "Thank you for taking me to my lover. I'm really looking forward to getting well fucked. It's been WAY too long." Quite the mood-setter for our drive! Of course, life has this way of getting in the way, and by the time we had driven five miles we got the first of the panicked/upset/discouraged phone calls from our kids. By the end of the drive we had hit the trifecta -- three kids, three phone calls. We took turns answering, and we were truly fried by the time we got to the hotel. We are regulars at that hotel -- we only go there for Sally and Ted's dates, but that's enough for the night staff to know us well. They offered to upgrade us to a suite with a Jacuzzi, which we happily accepted. We had brought liquor with us, so within a few minutes of our arrival we were naked, in a bubble bath and sipping on our drinks. The Jacuzzi was spacious, and it was just what the doctor ordered. In a little while the water and the booze began to work, and as we relaxed Sally's legs spread apart. When the bubbles cleared I was facing her wide-open pussy, looking up inside her while she talked quietly about her lover. The knowledge that we were naked added to my humiliation, as it was clear that we could have been dressed in suits of armor for all it meant to her to see my body. I remembered her telling me that she appreciated my acceptance of our agreement because she was no longer threatened by the possibility that I would ask for sex, and our half-hour sojourn in the bath proved her true to her word. We hugged and kissed as we got out: the embrace of people in love, but not lovers. Her lover would arrive in the morning. I slept fitfully that night, as I always do the night before their dates. Every time I started to drift off, I saw the image of Ted fucking my wife: both of them naked, her legs spread and his body between them, and him groaning as her pussy kissed and caressed his cock. The fantasy of it helped me relax, but then the realization that it was not fantasy, but what would be happening in a few hours, jerked me back from sleep. And so it went until my alarm sounded at 7 a.m. I got up quietly so Sally could continue sleeping. I closed the bedroom door behind me -- I had left all my clothes in the living room the night before, so I could dress without disturbing her. In the shower I recited what has become my ritual self-abuse on date mornings: "I brought my wife here for a date with her lover. In a little while I'll wake her so she can get ready for him. I'll make the bed so it is ready for them. I'll get the door when he knocks, then sit there while he and my wife talk and hold and kiss. When they get up to go to the bedroom together I will actually say, 'Have a good time.' Then I'll sit outside the bedroom door and listen while my wife fucks him. When they want to take a break I'll serve them lunch, then sit quietly when they go back to bed and close the door on me again. When they are done having sex, I'll take my wife home with his sperm swimming around inside her. And when we're home, she won't give me ANY of what she gives him. I really am a cuckold. I know it, she knows it and he knows it, too." After jerking off (but not cumming) to this litany, I pulled myself together and got to my work. I dressed, went downstairs for a quick breakfast and gathered up Sally's breakfast to bring back to the room. I woke her, set her coffee and fruit next to the bed, and started to prepare the suite for Ted's arrival. I cleaned up from the night before, set the table for their lunch and when Sally got up to shower I made the bed -- now THEIR bed. On Ted's instruction, the final step in making the bed is to turn down the covers on the near side so they can get in easily; as I did that simple act I was overwhelmed with shame at what I was doing. Ted usually calls me when he's about 20 minutes away, to ask for the room number; it just wouldn't do to have the same man asking for our room number at 9 a.m. every time we check in! Instead of calling, Ted left me this text: "On my way to give your wife what she can't get from you. Room #?" I replied, "Room 335. My wife is so excited to see you." As I knew I would, I opened the door when he knocked. He said hi to me, but Sally was waiting for him so "hi" was all I got. Years ago Sally used to dress UP for him -- blouse, skirt, high heels -- but now she dresses for bed: lacy negligee, sometimes a pair of matching panties, a silk robe and... nothing else. It's always strange to see them sitting and talking like that, with him in his street clothes and her in her bedroom clothes, but it doesn't seem to bother them at all. They usually kiss each other briefly then sit and talk for a while before beginning to touch each other, but not this time. Ted just about jumped onto Sally, and their first kiss was long, strong and deep. His hands were on her tits instantly, and the first time their lips parted he lifted the top of Sally's negligee away from her body so he could peek in to see her entire, naked breast. The tiny remnant of the "normal husband" in me wanted to protest this violation of my wife's privacy, but we all knew that wouldn't happen. I was not going to stop them, and my wife was thrilled to share her privacy with this man. Ted told me to get them both coffee, so I made my way down to the lobby. Last time they made fun of how fast I had been in getting the coffee and returning, so I walked slowly and deliberately, knowing I was giving them time to be alone together. I came back in a respectable amount of time, and when I opened the suite door I saw Ted literally on top of my wife. They were still dressed -- at least, as dressed as they were when I left -- but they were kissing and touching each other so passionately that I thought they would fuck right there. I placed the coffee in front of them and sat down quietly, watching their tongues intertwine. I think they chugged the coffee, because they were back to making out in an instant. Ted's hands were all over Sally's tits, both over her negligee and reaching into it. She was kissing him with such intensity that it took my breath away, and apparently Ted's, too. He said, "If you keep that up I'm going to want to take off my pants," and without missing a beat my wife said, "Actually, that's the direction I'm heading in." Now that may not seem like an unexpected comment, particularly given the circumstances under which it was said, but it hit me like a ton of bricks. I literally felt my world crashing down around me, and her words echo in my mind to this day. They were exactly what I NEEDED... what I needed to hear, and what I needed to feel. It was a hint of the Bad Girl she becomes in bed with him, and for the first time in a long time she was willing to show me what she gives to only him. I looked at her, lips locked on his, hands roaming all over his body, nipples hard as he felt her up, and I realized what actually goes on behind their bedroom door. The sensuality and the sexuality were overwhelming, and the sick, lonely, empty feeling of realizing that she never gives that to me, and really never did, felt like a powerful kick in the groin. They barely separated their mouths far enough to stand up and leave for the bedroom. The door clicked closed, and I was alone. As I took off my clothes and prepared to sit outside their door, I felt different. The scene was the same, the "coming events" would be the same, but I felt... I felt like I was where I belonged. Seeing the passion Ted ignited in my wife, hearing her say she wanted his pants off, seeing her give herself so freely to him, I knew that he really was about to give her what I never could. I was excited that they let me sit outside their door and listen to them fuck, and grateful that they understood what I needed to make it work. Just as Sally's saying she wanted him to take off his pants blew my mind, so did the sound of his belt buckle and zipper: he WAS taking off his pants, and she was probably helping him do it. The next sound was his groan, and I knew my wife had just taken his cock into her mouth. More groaning, rustling of the sheets, and louder groaning... Ted keeps telling me how Sally is a master of blowjobs, and I have no reason to doubt him other than the fact that she never did that to me. Whatever she was doing, she was making him feel VERY good. I heard her pocket rocket start up, and I settled in for what I knew would be 10-15 minutes of Ted helping her to cum. But I was off by about half, as I heard -- felt, actually -- the bed shake after no more than five minutes. Sally told me she had not cum in a week, saving it for HIM. I hadn't seen any real sign of it during the week, but now I understood how horny she was; she got off instantly! Immediately after she came, I heard the sigh/gasp/moan she makes when his cock enters her pussy. I thought of how good it must feel to fuck her when her body is still shaking and spasming from her orgasm, and then I thought of how good it must feel to fuck her, period. Ted was, shall I say, "demonstrative" of the pleasure he was receiving from my wife: he moaned and groaned the entire time he fucked her. With each noise he made I felt more and more alone, more and more ashamed of myself, as we all knew that my wife would not give me any of what she was giving him. I listened to the sounds he made as his cock slid in and out of my wife, and when he came it was all I could do to keep from crying... or cumming. I heard him ejaculate in my wife. I heard him grunt as he pumped his semen into her body. And I heard her voice -- too soft to make out the words, but clearly encouraging him and thanking him for giving himself to her. No one but a cuckold can understand the pain and excitement I felt as I heard my wife cuckold me with her lover. It did not feel GOOD at all... but it was what I needed to hear, and to feel. Just a short while later, Ted called me to come into the bedroom. That is very unusual, as their bedroom is usually off limits to me. As I entered I saw THEM, lying naked in bed together. The sheet was pulled up to their waists, but Sally's tits were visible, as was Ted's hand caressing them. I had not stopped jerking off, and I thought they might be inviting me in to witness their lovemaking, but I was mistaken. Ted told me to turn around to face the door, explaining that I was making Sally uncomfortable by staring. [WTF?? Another man tells me to stop staring at MY WIFE, while he feels her up in bed??] I did as I was told. Ted said, "I want to tell you what we just did. But you need to know that Sally is stroking my cock now, so I apologize if I groan while I'm talking to you. "We got each other so hot in the living room that we couldn't wait to rip each other's clothes off when we came in here. We started undressing each other, but that just wasn't fast enough so we finally just tore our own clothes off. Sally sat on the edge of the bed and pulled me over to her, and she went down on me like she was starving. She felt SO GOOD -- I know she never gives you that, but you should know that she's really, really good to my cock. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 21 "Then she spread her legs, and I got between them. I couldn't just apply the KY without first kissing her beautiful pussy, and I love how wet she was for me. She tasted delicious... but she's never let you taste her, has she? Well, never mind -- take my word for it, it was so exciting to lick her and finger her, and then to put the KY on her clit. Thanks for suggesting it! "You probably heard how fast she came -- I think it took both of us by surprise, but she felt WONDERFUL cumming in my arms. You probably don't remember how that feels, either, so let me tell you that your wife is a passionate woman who knows what she wants. She had her arm around me and pulled me close as she came, and I watched her face as she let go in my arms. Her aftershocks went on and on, and by the time she was done I was already inside her. "Paul, I know you don't remember how good Sally's pussy feels, and I know she was never wet for you, but take my word for it: she was very, VERY wet for me! "My cock felt SO good inside your wife. She pulled her legs apart and fucked me, and told me she never liked having you inside her. I watched her face -- her beautiful eyes looking at me -- as I fucked her, and when she said, 'I want to feel you cum in me' there was no way I could resist. "I came deep inside her, and then I stayed in her afterward, enjoying the sensations of her pussy on my cock. It's been way too long since our last date, but we made up for it now "Now it's time for you to leave. Don't talk, just LEAVE US ALONE." The whole time he spoke I had been standing there, naked and masturbating, facing the door. I was ashamed at what he was telling me, and even more ashamed that my wife saw me like that. But as much as I wanted to be something else -- to be assertive, to be a MAN -- I just could not do it. His words were so exciting, so hurtful, that all I could do was obey and jerk off. When he told me to leave I desperately wanted to say something to my wife -- to explain, or apologize, or something -- but I could not. I did as he said, and left the room -- THEIR room -- without saying a word or looking behind me. I was worried about how Sally would deal with the abuse she had just witnessed; would she tell Ted he had gone too far, or had made the Good Girl in her uncomfortable? I got my answer immediately, as I heard her reach for her vibrator and start it up again. Her second orgasm took no longer than the first one, but when she came she cried out louder than I had ever heard her cum in the hotel (Even with Ted, my Good Girl is usually conscious of who will hear when she cums!). The bed shook, the floor shook, and I heard Ted saying, "Oh Sally! Oh Sally" as she launched into her orgasm. Her aftershocks went on forever, and then there was silence. So much for her being upset at how Ted treated me. As I heard my wife cry out, as I masturbated furiously but kept myself from cumming so I could handle everything that was happening, I thought back to my original cuckold request: "You can ignore me, but please tell me you're ignoring me." I realized they were doing exactly that: they were most definitely enjoying each other; they were NOT worrying about me, or even thinking about me, during their lovemaking; they were sharing feelings that Sally no longer pretends to share with me; yet, in the moments in between, they found ways to show me what I have lost. They WERE ignoring me, but they told me so. And more important, in ways which did not impose (too much) on their privacy or their relationship, they showed me, too. As I listened to my wife cum in his arms, I realized that they had given me what I needed to behave as a proper cuckold. I would not interfere; I would not protest; I would not hesitate to serve them lunch when they want to take a break from sex; and I would sit quietly and rub my own penis while my wife takes his into her body. I AM a cuckold. When it was lunchtime, Sally came out of the bedroom tying the belt of her robe closed. I knew the modesty was for me, and my stomach turned as I accepted that she had been naked until she reached the bedroom door. I served lunch -- Ted lives in Amish country, and he has no way to get good, Jewish deli, so I bring the Real Thing for him. The lovers talked about work, family and all the other irrelevant stuff which people talk about when they are relaxed and comfortable with each other; I sat on the couch, continuing to masturbate. I tried to catch a glimpse of sex: her pussy, her tits, his cock -- but to no avail. They were "in public" now, and I understood that it would have been uncomfortable for either of them to be exposed in front of me. They didn't mind my jerking off, though; I was basically invisible, but in a way I could accept. If I didn't bother them, then... I didn't bother them. When they got up from lunch I expected them to head straight for the bedroom again, but instead they both sat down on the couch next to me. Without saying a word to me they started to make out, and their passion was even more intense than it had been hours earlier. Sitting on the couch right next to them I was no more than a foot away, and I had a close-up view of their mouths locked together. I saw my wife's tongue in his mouth, his tongue licking hers, and I heard their breathing get shallower and faster. I think I would have liked it if they had talked to me at that point, but I understood that they were giving me what I needed in the way that was least intrusive for them. I masturbated quietly as I watched the two lovers -- my wife, and HIM -- explore each others' mouths, and the passion I saw was further evidence of why Sally is his lover and he is hers. Surprisingly, and disappointingly, they managed to keep their robes in place during the whole make-out session. It was clear that there were boundaries, and that this was in no way a threesome; they were merely tossing me a PG-rated crumb so I would accept it when they went back to bed to fuck. I DID appreciate it, and when they got up from the couch a croaked out a "thank you" before they disappeared down the hallway together. An indication of how turned on they were from their makeout session was the fact that by the time I had moved back to my chair by the door, Sally's vibrator was already humming away. I beat myself up with the thought that she had been holding back while she was "in public," but now that they were alone together she couldn't wait for sex. She took longer to cum this time. Of course, it was the THIRD time for the day, and she never came three times in a day with me in all the years we have been together, so there was no consolation in the time it took. I heard an occasional sigh from her, but I heard a constant stream of quiet, loving, encouraging words from Ted. I could not make out what he was saying, but I knew from what she has told me that he tells her how good she looks, how good she feels and how excited he is to share her pleasure with her. It's one of the things he does better than I ever did, and I heard him doing it then. Somewhere in the middle of that encounter I had a moment of absolute clarity. I had given Sally the choice of going back to fucking me, or continuing to fuck Ted and learning how to step outside her comfort zone and hurt me. She -- my loving wife of more than 25 years, the mother of our children, my partner through all of life's ups and downs -- had chosen to do something very difficult just so she could keep fucking Ted and not have to fuck me. Right now she was having sex with HIM because she wanted that most of all, and because she would do anything to avoid it with me. SHE WOULD RATHER LEARN TO HURT ME THAN FUCK ME, AND SHE WOULD RATHER GIVE UP BEING A GOOD GIRL THAN GIVE UP HER LOVER. Just then, she came. I felt my world crashing down around me as I heard her gasp, and I felt the bed shake as Ted kissed her and told her how beautiful she was. My God, it hurt so much... but being cuckolded is supposed to hurt. No sooner had she finished cumming than I heard Ted fucking her. It began with her sharp intake of breath -- the sound I used to hear when I entered her, but which I only hear through the door these days. Often Ted jerks off the second time, painting her tits with his cum, but clearly not today: I heard the bed's rhythmic bouncing, my wife's soft cries in time with the bed's motion, and Ted's increasing urgency as he drove his cock into her again and again. I looked down at my hardon, saw it pointing impotently toward the closed door, and understood that THIS is what my wife wants. It was all I could do to keep from cumming, but I'm glad I did. I don't think I could have handled the shame, the pain or the loneliness if I didn't keep myself on the edge. After a while I heard them digging out their phones to set up their next date. At that point I retreated to the living room couch, so I wouldn't be crouched outside their door when they emerged. When Ted came out he was fully dressed, and told me Sally wanted to take a half-hour nap before we headed home. I thought, after all of that, that Ted would head for the door; instead he sat down in the chair facing me and started to tell me what a great time he had with my wife. I've described in earlier chapters how this after-sex conversation plays out. Put briefly, I've never jerked off in front of another guy before, other than while he was screwing my wife, and doing so makes me terribly uncomfortable. However, by the end of their 4-hour dates I am simply a quivering mass of horniness and shame, and I just don't have enough self-respect left to give a damn. If Ted is willing to tell me about fucking my wife, I want to hear it. And I want to masturbate while he's telling me. Picture the scene: he is dressed, relaxed and completely satisfied, having just cum twice in my wife. I am naked, horny and have not had sexual release in days. He sits back and reminisces about the experience; never insulting me, but knowing full well what he is saying. He told me how horny they were for each other; how they started to take off each other's clothes, but were in such a hurry to get naked that they gave up and just stripped. He told me how Sally pulled him over to the bed and went down on him. "She gives such great head, and I know she never gave that to you. You have NO idea what you missed," he said. He told me that Sally pulled out the KY, and he took the invitation to go down on her. He said she was so wet and tasted so sweet that he needed to spend time kissing and licking her before he applied the gel to her clitoris. "I think I could make her cum that way, but she's just too impatient," he added, as calmly as if he were talking to a friend about planting a garden. I grunted and barely kept from cumming. He talked about her pulling out her vibrator, and how she came almost instantly. "Even for her it was quick," he said, showing his intimate knowledge of how my wife cums. He described her getting on top of him and guiding his cock into her. He said she sat straight up on him, so he had a full view of her naked tits and her naked body. After a while he turned her over and got on top of her, "because I cum best that way." I nodded my understanding, realizing with complete shame what he was saying to her husband... to ME. He said she kept trying to get him to cum, squeezing his cock with her pussy, and he held off as long as he could. Finally she said, "I want to feel you cum in me," and he explained -- to be sure I understood -- that he could not resist her invitation. He said it felt wonderful to cum in her, and casually asked me if I remembered what that felt like. When I said no, since it had been eight months since I had felt it ONCE, he said that was too bad because her pussy is so sweet. Then he told me that he stayed inside her as long as he could after cumming because he just loves the feeling of her pussy holding his cock. All I could think of was how that insured that all his semen was dripping out of him and into her while he did that. I said I really appreciated his calling me in and talking to me. "Don't expect that every time, " he cautioned, "but I thought you could use some help accepting your role in your marriage. It was hard to concentrate with her stroking my cock like that while I talked to you, but I think that only made it more humiliating for you, right?" I said it did. I said ALL of it was humiliating for me, and he agreed that it should be. "Seeing you standing there, facing the wall and jerking off while I was in bed with your wife, I knew you really WERE a cuckold. No one else would have stood for that." "I didn't know how Sally felt about it until you left," he continued. "The minute you walked out the door she reached for her vibe and pulled my mouth to her tit. I guess you heard how quickly she came, but what you don't know is that she came so hard I thought she passed out. I can't remember seeing her cum that hard, and believe me, she always cums hard with me." My mind nearly exploded, or maybe melted, when he finished his soliloquy. I had to stop touching myself because I was so close to cumming that I thought I would go over the edge. If you go back and read that last paragraph, and imagine that you are me, hearing it from him, you might get the overwhelming power of what he said. I sat there panting, cock twitching and aching to squirt, and looked at the man who had just "given my wife what she can't get" from me. I was a fucking mess, and he knew it. "After lunch," he continued as if I was not making a complete fool of myself in front of him, "Sally wanted me all over again. I think making out in front of you did something special for her, because she grabbed her vibe with one hand and me with the other. I enjoyed every minute of it and every sensation, feeling her tits in my hand and in my mouth, kissing her, caressing her body and telling her how lovely she looked. I watched her face as she came, and the sight made me so hard I just had to be inside her again. I wasn't even planning it, but as soon as she came I got on top of her and felt her aftershocks on my cock as I fucked her." I asked him how it felt to cum in my wife, and he gave me a lecture on how the cumming felt wonderful, but one of my problems was that I concentrated on that too much. He said every feeling of fucking her was exquisite, and I might be -- or might have been -- a better lover if I stopped focusing on the climax. I wanted to crawl under the rug. Sitting there masturbating, knowing my wife just gave him everything, I had to nod my acceptance of his criticism of my lovemaking ability. The only man my wife wants inside her lectured me on why she wouldn't fuck me anymore, and we both knew that his sperm was now swimming inside her because she loves fucking him. I needed that, too. I needed to be told that I'm no good at sex by the man who has taken my place in my wife. It felt terrible, but it helped me understand why I only get my hand, while he gets my wife. It helped that day, and it helps me still. When Ted left, I kept jerking off for a while. Finally I was exhausted; actually, I think my penis was exhausted. It had been at attention for more than four hours, it had dripped an ocean of precum, and it was just DONE. I sat quietly and read the paper until it was time to wake Sally. When I woke her, the first thing she said was, "Are you okay?" When I said I was really fine, and thanked her for everything, she relaxed and said she had had a GREAT time. "He's so good, he makes me feel so good, and I did my best to make him feel good, too," she purred. "I'm going to take a shower, then I want to go home with YOU." We didn't talk much about the day on the way home, except for the time when she told me she had made the right choice. "I don't want to stop fucking him, and I don't want to fuck you, so I'll keep trying to learn what you need to be okay with it." In the following days she told me a few of the things she loved about Ted. She said she had never enjoyed anyone going down on her, but he has taught her to like it and she likes being able to give that to only him. She said she loves how he touches her before, during and after sex, and that I never did that; when I was done, I was done, and she hated that. "I don't know if this is the right word, but he makes me feel... SIGNIFICANT. I feel I matter in his arms, and I feel my pleasure really, truly matters to him. You make me feel significant as a wife, a mother and a friend, but he makes me feel significant in bed. And you never did." Now, two weeks later, her words still sting. The events of that day, and the events leading up to that day, still hurt. But together they help me accept that I will never feel what Ted feels, even on our once-a-year mercy fuck. And they help me understand why I am sitting alone, stroking my own penis, and looking at videos of people who want to fuck each other. They ignored me for most of their date, and Sally ignores me sexually every single day. But they TOLD me they were ignoring me, and they showed me why. That's what I needed. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 22 Chapter 33 "The Birthday Girl" May 2011 Warning, disclaimer, advisory, caveat: this is a story about real-life cuckolding. I am a masochist, and my wife Sally, who loves me dearly, was never comfortable hurting me, even when I asked her to. Thirteen years ago we discovered cuckolding, which allowed her to hurt me in a way that she could enjoy. This means it is a win-win for us, and has made our lives and our marriage deeper, fuller and more complete. If it will bother you to read about a wife cuckolding her husband, please stop reading now. If you continue, please -- PLEASE -- do not get to the end of the story and express your shock that it was about a wife cuckolding her husband. Because if you do, we will all have to wonder whether your IQ is greater than your shoe size. As they say at the beginning of South Park, this story should not be read by anyone. Sincerely, Cuckold Paul *********** It began on our anniversary, a month ago. I had decided that I would make the most of my once-a-year mercy fuck from Sally; if not to get her to want more, then at least to help her enjoy it as much as possible. I made reservations at the Borgata in Atlantic City, complete with champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries waiting for us in the room when we arrived. I didn't cum for four days beforehand, so I would be able to perform without worrying. We had a wonderful drive to AC, checked into our room and sat on the bed with the welcoming champagne. Sally asked if I wanted to make love now, and I said YES! I did my best to be romantic and skilled, copying as many things as I could remember from the times I used to watch her lover, Ted, in bed with her. We undressed and made out for a long time -- Sally says she still loves the way I kiss her, and I love it, too. When she took out her pocket rocket, I tried to do everything Ted did -- holding her, caressing her, kissing her and talking gently to her as she got excited. When she came in my arms I tried to memorize every sight and sound, knowing that it would probably be another year before I experienced her orgasm again. I held her during her aftershocks, and when she relaxed she moved down and took my cock in her mouth. The sensation was indescribably wonderful, and as I savored the feelings she looked up at me and said, "This is what I give Ted every time." I had often heard him moaning from her ministrations, but to feel the silky softness of her mouth on me, and to think of HIM feeling this every time they have a date, was both sweet and bitter at the same time. After a few minutes of going down on me she looked at me and said, "Do you want to be inside me now?" What could I answer, other than to choke out "Yes" again? I reached for the Vaseline, but she said she thought she was wet enough to do without it. That would be a first for us; only her lovers have ever been able to get her wet enough to fuck without other lubrication. I loved thinking that my efforts had paid off, and that I was really getting to her this time, so I immediately got between her legs. As I was about to slide my penis into her, Sally said, "Look at me. This is what Ted sees every time." I did as she instructed, and looked at her: my wife of 28 years, the mother of my children, was naked, legs spread and pussy open for me... as she is many times a year for HIM. I didn't cum then, but I was close. I slid into her, and she smiled at me. Her pussy was like heaven; a year is a VERY long time to go without sex, without anything touching my cock except my own hand, and the sensations were overwhelming. It looked like she was enjoying it, too, although it seemed she was getting drier as I continued. After a few minutes she said she wanted to feel me cum in her, and much as I wanted to make it last longer, I couldn't hold back when she said that. I came what felt like several major organs, and she held me tightly when I was done. After cuddling for a while, we got up, showered, and went to dinner. We had a great time -- dinner, then Sally played the video poker for a few hours and hardly lost anything; what I call a completely successful evening. We fell asleep in each other's arms, and I slept very soundly. In the morning we woke slowly, and showered together. As we cuddled in the shower, I gently asked her how she felt about the previous night. "I liked it," she said. "So, do you still want to wait another year before doing it again with me?" I asked. "Oh God, yes," she responded, without any hesitation. I was honestly puzzled, and I asked her if she had enjoyed making love with me. "I loved making you feel good," she said. "But didn't YOU feel good, too?" I asked. She looked at me for more than a few seconds, considering whether to tell me the truth. "I faked it. I wanted to give you something special, so I pretended to enjoy it. But I really didn't. Didn't you feel me drying out while we made love?" I was crushed. She didn't exactly say it to hurt me, and I was touched that she would do what she did just to give me a wonderful anniversary present, but I felt SO humiliated to know that my best efforts at making love to my wife were so bad that she had to fake enjoying the experience. I tried to hide my reaction, but clearly I didn't; as soon as she saw my face she hugged me, apologized for saying that, and added, "But you wanted me to tell you the truth, didn't you?" I said yes, I always wanted us to talk honestly. And I asked her if it was, honestly, that bad. She looked at me with genuine love, and again thought about her words before she spoke. Finally she said, "Yes, it was that bad. But I love you, and I loved giving that to you." "And you want to wait another year before doing it again?" I asked. "Yes, I do. And I really appreciate your understanding that," she answered. We hugged, we each said "I love you," and we got out of the shower. The ride home was fine, and we talked about everything under the sun... except sex. Until we were nearly home, when my wife asked me to get in touch with Ted to set up a date as soon as possible. "I really need to get fucked well," she said. "Especially now." I did as I was told, and scheduled a date for them three weeks later... on Sally's birthday. As the days passed, I realized that the only way I could make sense of what had happened on our anniversary, and what would happen on their next date, was to beat myself up -- badly -- about my lack of sexual prowess and my wife's desire to fuck her lover, but not me. I watched video after video of couples who WANTED to fuck each other, and with each one I told myself that I was looking at Sally and Ted, not Sally and me. It was powerfully erotic in a way that only a cuckold can understand, and I realized that not even Sally and Ted understood it fully. So I spoke with each of them and asked, as a favor, if they would help ME on their next date; without interfering too much in their time together, I asked if it would be possible for them to help me feel bad about myself as a man. Ted understood, and Sally tried to understand, and each said they would "see what we can do." I couldn't ask more, and so I waited... Now, in the fantasy world, everything would have gone smoothly leading up to Sally and Ted's date. But in the real world, life isn't so simple. Sally is facing serious surgery on one or both knees -- possibly replacing them -- and she is in a LOT of pain. She wakes up in the middle of the night in pain, and it's getting more and more difficult for her to walk. So sex was just not on her mind, and much as it was on MY mind, I didn't feel I could -- or should -- bring it up during the intervening weeks. In fact, the week before their date I asked her if she wanted to cancel it, but she said no; she wasn't sure how much she would be able to do with Ted, but she was sure she wanted to try. It wasn't until two days before their date that she started to get in the mood, and said she'd like to "play" that night. I understood, of course, that "playing" meant that she would get herself off with her vibrator while I sat outside our bedroom door and listened, as she had told me years ago that my being with her just made it more difficult for her to get off. Much as I wanted to hear her cum, I suggested that she might want to save it for Tuesday -- save it for Ted. She thought about it for only a second, and thanked me for my suggestion. As I said, the fact that SHE couldn't get into it in advance didn't mean that I couldn't -- or that Ted couldn't. Chatting with him on IM the week before their date, he told me that he would not cum after Thursday night, and would save his cum, in his words, "to deposit in your wife's womb." Although I stopped cumming on Saturday to be sure I was horny enough to be able to get excited about my impending cuckolding, I must have masturbated a dozen times that week, looking at the archived text of that conversation. Ted -- my wife's lover, the man my wife wants in her bed and in her body -- told me he was saving up his semen to squirt into my wife. Added to the humiliation of our anniversary, this latest bit of information drove me into a sub-space which I have not reached in all the years of my cuckolding. I felt like -- no, I actually WAS -- a sexual loser. My wife had to fake enjoying the one time this year that I got to have sex with her, while she and her lover each saved up their orgasms to share with each other. If you are not a cuckold, I know this makes no sense at all; but for those who are, you may be able to understand the emotional state I found myself in as we prepared for their date. On Monday, the day before their date, I had lunch with a friend at Wegman's. After lunch I told him I had to buy a few salads for that night's dinner; in fact, what I was buying was lunch for Sally and Ted for the next day. It felt powerfully erotic to be buying lunch for my wife and her lover while talking with a friend; almost as if I was able to bring him in on our little secret. But this is a secret best kept to oneself, so I did my best to hide my growing erection. Monday night, we left for the hotel. Our usual 1 ½ hour drive was uneventful as we talked about our day and checked in with our kids, reminding them that we were out for the night. When we got to the hotel and settled in, we had a drink and a chance to talk. I told Sally that I understood how difficult the past weeks had been, and how preoccupied she was with her legs. I said I hadn't wanted to bring up sex, since it was obvious how much she was hurting. I also told her how powerfully I had reacted to our anniversary, and especially to the next morning's revelation. I said I had discussed this with Ted and he understood, but I hoped she would understand, too. She said she did, and she apologized for her distraction; I said no apology was necessary, but I hoped they could keep this in mind during their date. She said she would... and she kept her word. Not much more was said about it that evening, but as we turned out the lights Sally kissed me and said, "Ted's going to fuck me in this bed tomorrow morning. Sleep tight." Every time I dozed off, an image of Ted sliding his cock into my wife jolted me awake. And each time I woke up I thought, "It was just a dream." Then I realized that no, it was not just a dream; it was the plan for the day. More important, my wife had reminded me of it... and it hurt. I did NOT "sleep tight." But I did sleep hard. In the morning I followed my usual ritual, dressing quietly in the living room so Sally could sleep longer. I choked down a little breakfast (thank you, Hampton Inn, for your free breakfasts each morning) and prepared a tray to bring back to the room for Sally. I woke her gently, and after she ate she went to shower. That was my cue to clean up the bedroom and make the bed, turning it from OUR bed into THEIRS. As Ted had asked long ago, I turned down the covers on the near side, to make it easy for them to slip into bed together. My shame at my role in their date suddenly overwhelmed me, and the specter of facing Ted, knowing that he knew about our anniversary, made my chores more difficult than usual. But at last they were done, and Sally joined me in the living room to wait for her lover. She was dressed in the only thing she ever got from Fredrick's of Hollywood: a floor-length negligee with wide, diagonal stripes alternating black and transparent. The black stripes covered her nipples and her pussy, but most of her tits and most of her body were clearly visible. She was dressed for sex; dressed to undress; dressed for HIM. Not for me. When he arrived, he handed Sally a beautiful plant and birthday card, then kissed her deeply. He sat down and she stretched her legs across his lap while she read his card. They sat and talked like that for over half an hour, catching up on their families, their work and Sally's upcoming surgery. As they talked he caressed her naked legs, but other than an occasional kiss there was nothing to indicate that anything else was going to happen. Sitting in the chair across the room from them, I was torn between wanting them to DO something and knowing that as soon as they started they would go to the bedroom and leave me alone. So I waited politely, joined in the conversation on just a few occasions, and tried to picture them fucking. On an earlier date, Sally had pulled down Ted's pants and gone down on him right in front of me, to show me what I was missing. That was painful, but erotic; I saw him grow in her mouth and I saw him react to her sexual ministrations. I was hoping for a repeat performance today, but it was not to be. When they finally turned toward each other in earnest, they kissed once and got to their feet to go to bed. I usually say, "Have a good time" to them as they walk toward the bedroom, but my voice caught in my throat and nothing would come out. I watched silently as my wife, dressed in a sexy negligee, took her lover's hand and walked away with him. Sometimes Ted leaves the bedroom door open for a few minutes, so I can watch them undress and start to make out; I really appreciate it when he does, but today he did not. Before I could get up from my seat I heard the bedroom door shut with a "click," and I knew I was alone for the duration. I pulled down my pants and underwear, walked quietly to the hallway and sat down on the small, rolling seat which Hampton Inn provides by the sink. As I sat down I heard a belt buckle and then a zipper, and I knew Ted was undressing to fuck my wife. I'd love to ask the people at Hampton Inn if they provided that rolling seat for cuckolds, or if there was some other purpose they had in mind. Personally, I can't see it having any other use, but it is the perfect place for a cuckold to sit and listen to his wife getting fucked behind the bedroom door. So after hearing the bedroom door click closed, I made myself comfortable in "my place" on the rolling seat, right outside their bedroom door. I grabbed the Vaseline, applied it to my penis, and listened... I heard him suck in his breath, then groan: my wife was going down on him. I heard him groan more: she was doing a good job of it. Then it got quiet, and I wasn't sure what was happening. As an aside, Sally goes through "pocket rockets" at an amazing rate. Between leaving some in the hotel after her dates, to breaking some, to just burning them out, I buy them five or six at a time. The last batch -- with a purple, transparent case -- are the best she's ever had. They have a deep vibration, and they get her off really fast. Unfortunately, they are almost silent: from outside the door I can never tell when she's turned them on. So I didn't have any way of knowing whether they were talking or using her vibe until I heard, "unh... UNNNNHHHHHH," and knew that my wife was cumming in Ted's arms. I heard and felt the bed shake as she orgasmed, and I heard Ted talking to her; I couldn't make out his words, but I knew from what she has told me that he was encouraging her and telling her how beautiful she looks. I guessed she had cum in about two minutes, and Ted confirmed that later. So did she, when she thanked me for my suggestion that she "save it" for him. She said it felt so good to cum in his arms, and she loved knowing that she had waited for him. Unspoken was the understanding that cumming with me was always difficult for her, and I never made her feel the way he did. As soon as her aftershocks died down, I heard the sheets move and the bedsprings creak. Then I heard Sally suck in her breath; the sound she makes when a cock enters her pussy. That was followed by a long, deep moan from Ted, confirming that he was in my wife's body. Sitting outside THEIR bedroom, I jerked off to the shame of knowing that another man was fucking my wife, my wife was loving it, and I was sitting outside the door jerking off while they cuckolded me. I wished I wasn't excited. I wished I was enough of a man to open the door and demand that they stop. I wished it was me inside my wife, making the guttural sounds I heard from HIM. But none of my wishes came true; I sat alone and rubbed my penis while Ted fucked my wife, and my wife fucked Ted. My shame was complete. Or so I thought. Suddenly, Ted called to me. "Paul, open the door NOW," he commanded. Still sitting on my little chair, I turned the knob and pushed the door open. What I saw took my breath away like a kick in the stomach: my wife -- my own wife -- was on her back, naked, with her legs spread, and Ted was on top of her, naked, between her legs, fucking her. I saw him push into her as I opened the door, and as he did he looked at me and said -- gasped, actually - "I want you to watch me cum in your wife." My brain scrambled as I took in the sight in front of me, and thought back to my conversation with him last week. He had told me on Thursday that he wasn't going to cum again because he was saving his semen "to deposit in your wife's womb," and now he wanted me to see him do it. After telling me to watch he turned back to my wife, looking into her eyes as he fucked her. It was only a few strokes after I opened the door when his whole body shook and he moaned, "Ohhhhh, Sally..." I saw him lose it: lose control, lose any thought of making it last... lose his semen. He came in front of my eyes. He told me he wanted me to watch, and I did. I sat there like a complete loser, watching my wife bring him to the edge and take him over. He moaned, groaned an bellowed his pleasure, and I watched his ass muscles contract as he came in her. I couldn't see his cock -- it was buried in my wife's body -- but I knew what was happening: he was ejaculating in her... in her pussy... in her womb. He had saved up his semen for five days, and now he was squirting it into my wife as he shuddered with pleasure. The minute his orgasm subsided he looked at me and said, "Now close the door and leave us alone." Later, Sally told me that I let out a cry when he said that; I don't remember doing that, but I believe it. I felt like he had ripped out my heart -- that THEY had ripped out my heart -- and they had a good time doing it. Yet I did as I was told, and closed the door for them. THEN I cried. Not for long, but long enough. I was still hard, and was grateful that I had resisted cumming since Saturday since it was only my incredible horniness that allowed me to cope with what I had just experienced. But I knew that Ted had shown me something precious: he had shown me what I had lost. He shared a moment of intimacy with me, to help me see that my wife wants him inside her, and doesn't want me. He showed me what my wife gives to the man who makes her feel like a woman, and he showed me what he wanted to show his lover's husband, who never made her feel that way. I had asked him to help me feel bad about myself, and he did, in spades. Thank God I was horny, because I don't know if I would have survived the pain, the shame and the humiliation he made me feel. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 22 They spoke gently to each other, too softly for me to hear the words but the tone conveying the meaning. They were relaxing together... TOGETHER... after sex. As for me, that strange, self-protective part of me that somehow still thinks that when they are behind the closed door maybe they aren't actually fucking, that maybe they are just engaging in mutual masturbation or something, was blown to shit. I SAW them fucking. I SAW Ted go over the edge and cum in my wife. I SAW my own cuckolding. Sitting on my chair in the hall my cock alternately got hard and soft, as the eroticism and the shame competed for the upper hand in my head. A short time later -- a VERY short time later -- I heard Ted gasp. I was surprised, but figured Sally was just giving him a loving kiss or two on his cock. Then he groaned... a deep, long groan. What the hell? They hadn't finished fucking more than 15 minutes earlier, and it was always a while before Ted could recharge. But there was no mistaking the sound, or what it signified: my wife was going down on him again, and he was enjoying it. Sally never went down on me after we fucked. She asked me to clean up first, because she just wasn't interested in tasting her own juices. Yet time after time she does that for Ted, and I know they have neither towels nor Kleenex in the room with them. Apparently she doesn't mind how she tastes when his cock is involved. I figured they would play for a while, then relax. But Ted's moans grew louder, and then it was Sally's turn to call to me. "Paul, come in. I want to show you something." I opened the door, and saw Ted lying naked in the middle of the bed. My wife was closer to me, but was facing him with her mouth near his cock and her hand stroking it. Most surprising, he was hard as a rock. I realized that there have been very few times in recent years that I've actually seen his erection; usually, if I see him at all, it's after he has cum in my wife. Even a few minutes ago when he made me watch him cum in Sally's pussy, I saw them from the side, and his cock was buried in her. But here he was: naked, hard, and shaking with excitement as my wife stroked his shaft and kissed the head of his cock. "Isn't he amazing? He just came, and look how hard he is already!" she said, without taking her eyes off his sex organ. Although she didn't look directly at me, I could see the smile on her face and the lust, too, as she alternated slow and fast strokes and punctuated them with open-mouthed kisses on the head. Ted just gasped and spasmed from my wife's ministrations, never looking at me or saying a word to me. This was my wife's doing -- both his erection and my humiliation -- and he did not want to interfere with what she was doing to me. He knew his role at that moment and he played it well, knowing that after Sally dismissed me she would again be all his. Many people who have read my diary ask me if I've ever touched Ted's cock, or gone down on him. The answer is no, and looking at his hard-on I realized that I'd make a lousy homosexual; I actually find cocks to be rather ugly appendages, and not the least bit enticing. For me, seeing HIS cock in my wife's hands and mouth did not make me want to join in; if anything, it made me want to cry again, or be sick. A man's cock is what makes him a man; it's part of the symbol for "male" in biology. And a man's cock is what a woman wants inside her when she feels sexual cravings. Seeing him hard, knowing my wife's touch made him that way, and knowing, too, that he would soon slide it back inside her body, made it clear that the only MAN in the room was Ted. I was... something less. And having my wife call me in to show me, to make me see HIM, left me breathless and hurt. I didn't think anything could make me feel worse or make me think less of myself than when Ted had shown me how he came in my wife, but this was much, much worse, because I knew without a doubt that it was my wife who wanted me to see this. Then she told me to leave, and I did. I sat down outside the door with the image of his sex burned into my eyes, and I heard him GROAN. Then I heard my wife suck in her breath, and I knew they were fucking again. Sure, I thought, he could stick that thing in her for a while, but I took satisfaction in the knowledge he wasn't cumming again so fast. Then he came. Fast. I didn't know until later that he described it as the most powerful orgasm of his life, or that it happened because my wife unexpectedly turned on her side, lifted her leg over him and guided him into her body. He said they had never fucked on their sides before, and he told me that Sally did something with her pussy muscles that sent a wave of electricity through his body and made him cum like an explosion. All I knew at the time was that he made more noise than ever before: loud, guttural cries of pleasure which seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him. I felt I was hearing from that place where semen originates; that his cries traced its journey from his core, through his cock and into my wife. No, actually, that's not all I knew. I also knew that my wife, who had made him hard so quickly after he came the first time, wanted me to see what she had done... and what she was going to do. My wife had called me in to see her lover's erection, just before she guided it into her pussy and gave him the pleasure she no longer gives to me. As I listened to him try to catch his breath after his orgasm, the image of his cock pointing straight up, ready to feel pleasure and to squirt sperm, haunted me. I didn't cry, but I was filled with shame at myself for what I had seen and what my wife had done -- so proudly -- with another man. Not long after, Sally called to me and told me they were ready for lunch. Doing my cuckold duty, I set out their salads and drinks and moved to the couch to watch them eat. (A long time ago I gave up pretending to be able to eat when they are together; these days I sit on the couch and masturbate while they have lunch. It's actually the only time my wife sees me masturbate, because at that moment it just doesn't matter to her. She is with her lover, and what I do is irrelevant.) Their lunch was interrupted by a stream of "happy birthday" calls from friends and relatives. The best one was when Sally's mother called... the woman who wouldn't let my wife see "Romeo and Juliet" on her 13th birthday because it was too racy. Watching my wife sit at the table next to her lover -- she wearing nothing but an open robe, and he wearing only an unbuttoned, button-down shirt -- while she told her mother how she was "spending the day in bed" was just precious. And the fact that Ted's soft, satisfied cock was visible to me while he sat at the table made the scene perfect. The calls kept coming in, so Ted moved from the table to a chair facing me in the living room area of the suite. He made sure his shirt fell open, so I was face to face with his cock while Sally talked to our kids, her friends and a few work colleagues. He and I talked softly, but having his cock pointing at me meant I could not avoid seeing the hole at the end... the hole through which he had ejaculated his semen into my wife. Twice. I was hard and he was soft, but there was no question who was the man in the room; he possessed the cock my wife wanted, and now that he had cum in her he had nothing more to prove. He talked about how good she had made him feel, and mentioned that "I know Sally's not done, but there's no way I'm going to go for a third." My brain scrambled at the words he was saying, as I sat there jerking off while my wife's lover evaluated his chances of a third orgasm. Finally the calls ended, and Sally walked toward Ted. She reached out her hand for him and said, "I want to be alone with you now." Ted jumped to his feet and the two of them walked away from me without another word. Her next orgasm shouldn't have surprised me. On every date, the minute they go back to bed after lunch she reaches for her vibrator to get off again. So the fact that I couldn't hear the vibe start up didn't matter; I knew what she was doing. Yet when it happened -- when she cried out, when I heard her body bouncing on the bed, when I heard Ted's whispers of affection as he held her through her orgasm -- I lost it again. Knowing that she used to put off sex with me for days or weeks, and hearing her cum in his arms almost as soon as the door closed, made me feel useless. And as I sat alone in the hallway, rubbing my penis while my wife gasped through her aftershocks, I understood that what I felt was correct. I'm a good husband, a good father, even a good friend, but I am -- rather, I was -- a terrible lover. The only things I can do to please my wife sexually are understanding that she doesn't want sex with me and bringing her to the man she wants. That, and making them lunch when they take a break from sex. All these thoughts occupied my mind when the bedroom fell silent, and I knew they were nearly done for the day. So when I heard Ted groan again I was confused. Hadn't he told me there was no chance for Round 3 for him? Yet he groaned again, and then began panting. His voice rose and sank as a mirror of his excitement; he got close, then backed off, then got close again. Then I heard the sheets move; someone was changing position in some way, but of course I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was that I heard kissing, slurping sounds from my wife, and growing cries of pleasure from Ted. And then he came. Honest, he came again. He came LOUDLY, and his voice was strained; obviously he had pulled his orgasm from somewhere deep inside him. He was loud even for him, and I wondered who else in the hotel heard him cum. Certainly, there was no way it could have been mistaken for anything else; what I heard -- what everyone heard -- was a man cumming. Ted cumming. In bed with my wife. Only later would I learn that he had not only cum WITH my wife; he had cum in her mouth. After her orgasm she went down on him (again) and got him hard, and then he started to jerk himself off while she held him and kissed him. As he related it to me afterward, he was just not able to get himself to cum in spite of Sally's "excellent" ministrations. He was just about to give up when she said she wanted him in her mouth. He got on top of her, slid his cock into her mouth, and to his amazement she brought him off with her mouth and hands. When SHE told me about it she said she loved doing that for him, and the most amazing part was that he actually came in her mouth. For someone who says he doesn't cum much volume anymore, she was surprised -- and I was devastated -- that on his THIRD orgasm of the day, he was still able to ejaculate semen into her mouth. I thought back to his first orgasm -- the one he called me in to watch -- and his second, when he came again in her so quickly, and I was sick to my stomach at the thought of his semen, his sperm, squirting into my wife. "I'm saving it to deposit in your wife's womb," he had told me. And he did. Twice. And once in her mouth. And I would take my wife home with him inside her. When Ted emerged from the bedroom he was dressed. He closed the door behind him and said, "Sally said to give her half an hour to sleep before you go home," and he walked to the living room. As I sat on the couch he literally fell into the chair as if he had no bones left in his body. "I felt like it was MY birthday today," he said. "I've never been fucked like that, and sucked like that, in my whole life. She just keeps getting better and better." As he slouched back in the chair, enjoying the afterglow of sex, I jerked off like mad while feeling my stomach tie itself in a knot. He wasn't performing for me, and he wasn't even giving me details to get me excited, as he often does. He was just... fucked out, and didn't mind that I saw it. We both knew that it was MY WIFE who fucked him and it was MY WIFE who made him feel good physically, emotionally and in every other way. She had stripped for him, blown him, cum in his arms, fucked him... and then did it all over again. We both knew it, and facing him then was the culmination of the shame and the pain of the entire day. I don't really know what we talked about, other than him telling me that he thought I should see him cumming in my wife, and telling me that it was completely Sally's idea to call me in to see how hard she had made him. As I sat there reeling from the experience, I thanked him for showing me how he fucked my wife, and I thanked him for telling me that it was her idea to call me in the second time. I said I hadn't expected too much when I asked them both to hurt me, but they had each hurt me more than ever before. "I am sure we did," he sighed. "And we enjoyed every moment of it. You have NO idea what you have lost, and you will NEVER feel what your wife gives me. "Never." As he rose -- actually, as he dragged himself out of the chair -- he thanked me for bringing my wife to him. Then he said, "Sally told me you're going to her favorite restaurant for dinner tonight. That's really nice, and I'm jealous that you get to spend that time with her. But when you're sitting at your nice, romantic dinner I want you to remember that she came in MY arms, and MY sperm is swimming inside her. No reason you shouldn't be jealous, too." And he left. Dinner that night was wonderful. Sally had a hard time walking to the door, but we took it slowly and her knee held out. Somehow her brother had learned where we were having dinner, because when we sat down the waitress brought over a bottle of champagne from his wife and him. And somewhere in the middle of the meal I must have drifted off because Sally asked me if I was okay. "I was thinking about today," I admitted. "It hurts, doesn't it?" She said, with concern tinged with sexuality. "Yes, it does. Are you all right?" "Oh, I'm great!" she responded. "I spent the day in bed with my lover, and now a romantic dinner with my husband. And honestly, it feels good to know that you won't ask me to do something I don't want to do when we get home. This is a perfect birthday!" Today we learned that Sally will have knee replacement next week, at the beginning of June. Ted was disappointed that they have to cancel their next date, but he told me that he wanted her to get better so they could "go back and try some of the positions we used before." He also said he would try to get to our house for a visit while Sally is recovering. "Maybe I can help her to exercise her leg," he suggested. It has taken me two weeks to write this chapter because I've alternated between masturbating and feeling so bad about myself that it was hard to write. But I hope I was able to communicate some of the cuckold's experience in a way that makes sense, and might even be exciting, to others. Whatever you think of it, it is all true. And if you think anything other than that Sally is an amazing woman, you didn't get it at all. Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Sincerely, Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 23 February 2012 *ADVISORY*: This is a story about cuckolding. It says so in the title, and I'm saying it again now. My wife has a lover, and I'm excited by that. If you read this story, you'll see that cuckolding has an effect on the husband's psyche, and I accept that. If YOU do not accept that, or if you find it weird, unnatural, perverted or otherwise disturbing, please don't read this! And if you read it anyway, please don't bother to write that you found it weird, unnatural, perverted or otherwise disturbing. And yes, it's all true. People have written to ask if we're still doing this, and why I haven't written more of this Diary. I always responded that Sally and Ted are doing great, but I wouldn't write another chapter until I had something new to say. Now I do. Comments welcome. Flames cheerfully ignored. To the story: First there was the kiss. Then the tissue. By that time my brain was scrambled and the only word that kept coming to mind was the word Ted used to describe me a week ago: "pathetic." I didn't start out to feel this way. I always knew I wanted Sally to have sex with other men, but I didn't know it would feel like THIS. I'm not complaining – what we do is really exciting for me. Sally doesn't walk all over me; we are partners, lovers, friends and everything else a spouse should be. Only in the bedroom – in matters of sex – did our roles shift... and they shifted gradually. Now we have something that excites each of us – all three of us – and which "works" for each of us, too. Sally and Ted have each found a wonderful, caring sex partner in the other. They are not in love with each other, but they really LIKE each other... and they LOVE having sex together... and they have enjoyed being together more and more as the years have passed. I have found out who I am; who I was always supposed to be. I am a cuckold. Not a game; real life. And as I think about the over-five years since Sally said she didn't want to have sex with me at all anymore, I feel... pathetic. And that strange, shameful word feels right. Not very pretty, I know, but a certain variety of cuckold understands completely. Cuckolding is the most exciting sexual adventure I can imagine, but my ego has taken quite a beating along the way. My question has always been, "why does MY ego WANT to be beaten?" Yes, I'm a masochist, something I've described in earlier chapters of this Diary. And sometimes that's a problem for Sally and me, because it's just not easy for Sally to hurt me, even when I ask (beg. PLEAD.) to be hurt. I know how strange it sounds to say that Sally will fuck another man but won't hurt me, because her fucking another man hurts me plenty. On their dates, Sally is amazing – to Ted AND to me. He always tells me how much she turns him on and how passionate a lover she is. And she "gets" what I need, to be able to sit there and do nothing while another man fucks her. Our problem – my problem, actually – is all the time in between their dates. Almost the moment we leave the hotel after seeing Ted, Sally changes her persona from "Bad Girl," which is saved for Ted, to "Good Girl," which is for the whole rest of the world... including me. As she said after their date, "I can compartmentalize." "Good Girl" can barely believe that Bad Girl does the things she does. Good Girl is a respected professional in our community, a tireless volunteer for things she believes in, the most amazing wife / friend / partner / confidante a man could ever have. No one would imagine in a million years that we don't have sex anymore, and NO ONE in any age or era would have the slightest suspicion that Sally has a long-term lover, and I am a cuckold. But she does, and I am. A little about me, beyond that I'm a cuckold and a masochist. Fourteen years ago I finally succeeded in convincing Sally to try sex with another man. We found a great guy, who is her lover to this day. I found that I was more excited about Sally cuckolding me than I had been about anything since I was first trying to seduce her over 30 years ago. Five years ago (November 20, 2006, to be exact) Sally asked me if I could accept our not having sex anymore. She explained that she had never liked it with me, and that often I actually hurt her with my clumsiness in bed. She also said that Ted was SO good to her, and SUCH a wonderful lover, that she wanted to share sex only with him. The idea was terrifying... and exciting beyond words... so I said yes. I didn't think she would stick to the no-sex policy for very long, but to this day she has said only that she loves "our arrangement." (She did promise me a once-a-year mercy fuck on our anniversary, saying that was very important to her, and she has kept her promise each year. But that's it, and she assures me she is very happy with that schedule.) So each time my wife and her lover have a date, I sit outside their bedroom door and listen to them fuck. They will usually call me into the bedroom once or twice, to get them a drink or just to be polite to me, since they know I'm sitting alone, masturbating. And Ted usually spends 15 minutes or so sitting in the living room with me when he is dressed and ready to leave, very politely telling me some of the things they shared and how they made each other feel. When he tells me this I am sitting naked opposite him, jerking off like a man possessed. He never puts me down, never abuses me as the "bulls" do in commercial cuckold porn films. But we both know that my wife fucks him... and only him. We both know that I only feel my own hand 364 days a year, so he helps me accept my role by telling me the most intimate, exciting details of their sex. And he always adds, "You'll NEVER know how it feels when Sally does that to me..." I really appreciate the time he takes to do that, as by that time he has fucked my wife at least twice and he is DONE. Besides, he doesn't come to talk with ME. Bottom line: my ego – my image of myself as a MAN – has taken quite a beating over these past 14 years, and especially over the past five. What makes me a cuckold is that I accept this; actually, it feels RIGHT. For some reason, I know I am supposed to be outside the door when sex happens; as Sally says, "I don't want you any further away than that, but I don't want you any closer, either." Writing the 34(!) chapters of this Diary has helped me to accept and embrace the emotions and the deep sexuality that surround the word "pathetic" for me, and I have a few online friends who, as fellow cuckolds, actually get what I'm describing. Otherwise, it's just me, my hand and my memories of the sights and sounds from their many dates. Many cuckolds will agree that they would be very excited if other people knew they were being cuckolded. Most of us will also agree that family, job, community, etc., demand that we not share our adventures – or our shame - with anyone else. For me, that means the only people who know me - know I am a cuckold and know I am pathetic as a man - are my wife and her lover. And that is why I asked each of them, prior to this week's date, if they would acknowledge to me what they are doing and would help me to feel the shame in front of them that I think about every day on my own. Actually, what I said was, "I'll do anything I can to make sure both of you have a wonderful time together, and I'd really appreciate it if you would help me have a terrible time." They did. They had a VERY wonderful time together, and they each helped me to see who I am, stripped for a while of any sense of concern for my wellbeing. Their date was scheduled for two weeks ago, but 36 hours before it I got a call that I would have to work that day. We were all frustrated – Sally got herself off several times, telling me how much she missed "being filled up by him." Ted and I chatted on YIM and he expressed similar frustrations – and horniness for my wife. And I felt bad that my work had come between them. We rescheduled for two weeks later, and as the day approached, Sally made time to have her hair done, her fingernails done and her toenails done... for HIM. We got a late start on our drive to the hotel the night before their date; by the time we got there it was after 11 pm. We had a quick drink and Sally relaxed and read her book; I excused myself, went into the living room and jerked off, thinking about what would happen in the morning. Eventually we both got to sleep, but my sleep was fitful: I kept imagining that another man was going to get into THIS bed and fuck MY wife, then I would wake up and realize it was true. Fifteen minutes before my alarm went off, I gave up on sleep and went to get ready. I dressed, went down to the lobby for breakfast, then brought breakfast up on a tray for Sally. Our suite had a fireplace, so she ate her breakfast in the living room, in front of the warm fire. As she was about to get up to get dressed, Ted called to say he would be a half-hour late. That gave her time to relax, wake up, and get ready for... him. When Ted arrives at our hotel room, our general practice is for them to sit and talk on the couch in the living room for a while. When they do, Ted is completely dressed and Sally is wearing whatever outfit (or lack of an outfit) she has chosen to turn him on: either a negligee or just a bra and panties, with her silk robe wrapped around her until he opens his present. I always offer to get them coffee from the lobby, and they always say yes; I think they enjoy those first few minutes alone at least as much as the coffee. Usually they will kiss while they talk; sometimes Ted's hand will caress her breast through her negligee or bra. Not much more than that happens until they go to bed, without me. Maybe it was their pent-up excitement from their delayed date, or maybe it was just to be blatant about what they do together, but this time things were NOT the same. Sally usually sits up on the couch and invites Ted to sit next to her; this time she reclined seductively, her legs spread so as he approached her he was treated to the sight of her open pussy. After seeing that, he knelt by the couch and started kissing my wife – not just a "hello, nice to see you" kiss, but a sexy, passionate, intimate kiss. Followed by another one. And another. When I returned with their coffee they hadn't moved; their mouths were still glued together. As soon as I came into the room, Ted moved his hand to my wife's breast – first over the thin fabric of her negligee, then reaching under it to feel her skin. I sat down in a chair across from them and watched my wife and her lover make out... is it considered "petting," and does anyone use that word anymore, to describe when a man touches, squeezes and sucks on a woman's nipples before they have sex? Actually what happened was that they engaged in foreplay right in front of me. I didn't do anything or say anything; I just looked at my wife's open pussy, realizing she hadn't let me see it this much in many months, and watched her lover prepare her for sex. After nearly a half-hour of foreplay, they got up from the couch to go to bed together. As they – I say "they" because from the moment Ted comes into the room, "they" are a couple and I'm the outsider – walked by me toward the bedroom, Sally stopped in front of me. She came over to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and gave me a deep, loving kiss. When she did, my head nearly exploded as I tried to reconcile the love I felt in her kiss and the knowledge that she was about to fuck the man standing beside her. After the kiss, and without a word, she took Ted's hand and led him to bed. The last thing I saw was the door closing between me and them. By the time I could settle myself outside the bedroom door, I already heard the sound of Ted's belt buckle being freed, followed by a long, deep "OOOOOOHHHH" from him. X-ray vision not needed; she was sucking his cock. Those moans were followed by a brief silence, then an almost identical groan... from Sally. I know that sound well: she only makes it when she feels a cock enter her. I sat outside their door, masturbating but not allowing myself to cum, while they fucked. From the grunts, gasps and bed-creaking sounds, I was pretty sure they were trying various positions. (Later, before Ted left, he confirmed that they had fucked "sideways, scissors, and man-on-top" during their first lovemaking that day.) After about 10 minutes they settled into a steady rhythm, evidenced by their staccato breathing and the quiet thump-thump of the headboard against the wall. Suddenly Ted called out, "Paul, open the door. I want you to see this." I opened the door, continuing to jerk off as I entered their room. I can describe what I saw *physically,* but I will never be able to convey the emotional effect it had on me. There in front of me, Sally was lying on her right side, facing away from me. Her left leg was stretched out in front of her, and Ted was straddling her right leg as he fucked her sideways. His right hand was caressing my wife's ass, and his left hand was gliding over her left breast. Without stopping or even turning to me he said, "I want you to see your wife's face when she's enjoying sex. I know you've only seen her tolerating it, but this is what she looks like when she's having fun." He was right: she looked fantastic. Her legs askew, giving him access to her pussy. Her arms above her head, presenting her tits to him. And she was smiling. Really, truly smiling. What could I say? Ted had actually told me to come into the room so he could show me how he fucks my wife, so I said, "Thank you for showing this to me." They didn't respond; they were wrapped up in each other, body and mind. I stood there and masturbated at the sight of my wife loving sex with him, until they noticed me and told me it was time for me to leave them alone. As I closed the door, a thought crossed my mind: had Ted done that to make me feel good, or to make me feel bad? I hoped it was the latter, because it worked. Within two minutes of my leaving, I heard their breathing intensify. Then I heard whimpers, then a moan, then panting, then my wife shaking the bed as she came. It was a gut-wrenching orgasm for her - and for me. Listening to her grunting and panting for nearly a minute, knowing she was cumming in his arms, nearly killed me. As soon as it subsided I heard Ted grunting and the headboard banging MUCH louder. Then he came in my wife. I guess I've described it before, but for me there is little in life that hurts more than hearing HIM cum in HER. It's not just that they are fucking; not just that she has, clearly, brought him such pleasure that he has lost control and is ejaculating into my wife's body. For me, it is much more than that, and much more painful than that. When I hear it – when I hear HIM cum – I know that only he gets to feel that. I know that my wife is happy bringing her lover to orgasm. I know that she hated doing that with me, and wanted me to cum not so I could feel good, but so the detestable event would be over as soon as possible. Not with him: as she told me last week, "he loves when I beg him to cum inside me." She begs him – and only him - to cum inside her, not to get it over with, but to give him that intense pleasure. I know it. She knows it. And he knows it. The headboard continued to bang against the wall, more gently but still rhythmically, for several minutes. They have both told me how he loves to stay inside her after he cums, feeling her pussy holding his cock and making sure all his semen flows into her before he pulls out. I listened as the headboard laughed at me: "He's still fucking her. He's still cumming in her. And you never feel that." Then they were quiet. They were done... for a little while. The time after they finish fucking – the 15 or 30 minutes they lie together, talking quietly or napping briefly – are terribly difficult for me. At those times there is no sound, no "action," to distract me; all I can do is sit outside the bedroom door, rub my own penis, and think about how much of a sexual loser I am. The litany is always the same: "My own wife doesn't want to fuck me, she only wants to fuck HIM. And I brought her here for him; I made the reservation, I packed the bag, I made the bed this morning so they would have a neat and tidy place to lie down together. I listened to them fuck. I SAW them fuck. I heard them make each other cum. AND I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO STOP THEM. I just sat here and touched myself while my wife gave her lover everything she is supposed to give to me – and only to me." Pathetic. Seriously, real-life pathetic. I kept masturbating until the noises began again. Quietly at first; often I'm not sure whether I'm just hearing something, or whether they are starting again. But soon the sounds are unmistakable – Ted groaning as my wife brings his cock back to life with her mouth and tongue. The groans get louder, more insistent, then "that gasp" from my wife... he is inside her again. Gentler this time; they aren't in a hurry any more, and they enjoy each sensation as it presents itself. "He is fucking my wife again," I say to myself. "His body is inside her body; his sex is in her sex. I know it – I hear it. It's happening NOW, and I'm just sitting here alone while it happens." As I beat myself up for my role (or lack thereof) in their sex, and in sex in general, Sally called out to me. "Paul, please bring me a tissue." WTF? They don't use tissues after they fuck. Ted cums deep in Sally's pussy, and when he's done she sucks him clean (yet another thing she never did with me...). So, what's with the tissue? I grabbed a few from the bathroom sink, opened the door, and saw my wife on top of Ted, fucking him slowly, deeply and passionately. My first reaction was one that only a husband – a loving husband – could possibly have. If you've read my Diary, you will know that Sally had knee replacement surgery last summer; she's doing very well, but as the doctor predicted, it's taking the better part of a year for the pain to fade. So as I walked in and saw her on her knees on top of him I thought, "Wow, she's doing GREAT with her knee!" Not sexy, I know, but the truth. Ted's moans brought me back to earth. As I saw him writhing under my wife, I understood that her hips were rocking back and forth to draw his cock deeper and deeper inside her. His face told me how it felt – and then HE told me that I'd never know how good it felt to be fucked by my wife like this. Her outstretched arms were on his shoulders, and when he never looked at me while he talked, I realized he was staring at her naked tits, moving hypnotically in front of his eyes. Finally noticing that I was in the room, Sally sat upright on Ted – never letting his cock slip out – and took the tissues from me. She quietly blew her nose (she was just getting over a cold, but sure as hell wasn't going to cancel their date), dropped the tissue, and leaned over to kiss him, never missing a beat as she fucked him. Ted said, "You have such a beautiful smile on your face," and was just able to finish that sentence before groaning loudly as she did something with her pelvic muscles which was obviously very special. Then she told me to leave. My mind reeled as I stumbled back to my chair in the hallway. I was SO excited to be called in while they were fucking again, but as I thought about it, the excitement mingled with absolute shame. I reframed her request in my mind as I listened to them continue to fuck: "Paul, I'm in the middle of fucking Ted and I don't want to stop, so please get me a tissue and bring it to me here in the bedroom. I know it will hurt you to see me fucking him, but I know you won't do anything to stop us, so please get in here now." No, she didn't use those words. But that's what she said. I did as I was told, and she was right – I didn't do anything to stop them. I stood there and rubbed my own penis while she caressed his with her pussy, then I left when she told me to get out. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 23 Pathetic. Exciting as hell, yes. But is there ANYTHING in what I did, or what I didn't do, that I should be proud of? In fact, is there anything at all that I shouldn't be completely ashamed of? I was a loser at sex, and now I am pathetic as a man. I know it. She knows it. For God's sake, HE knows it, too. No, he didn't look at me smugly; the fact is, he didn't look at me at all. He looked at my wife's face and my wife's tits... when his eyes weren't rolling back in his head from the pleasure she was giving him. Of course, they came again. He first this time, and I knew exactly what was happening. She rode him until he lost control, orgasmed and shot another load into her pussy, and then he held her, touched her, kissed her and made love to her until she came in his arms. As their cries of beautiful agony cut through me again, and I masturbated like a man possessed, I knew we were each where we belonged. Yes, it was pathetic – I was pathetic. But it was honest. For all of us. It took them a while to recover, then they told me to prepare lunch. When lunch was ready, I called to them to let them know. Sally came out first, wrapping her robe around herself. Sitting down at the table she gave me the V-for-Victory sign, which actually meant she was happy that each of them had cum twice. I sat on the couch facing the table, put more Vaseline on my penis, and went back to jerking off while they ate lunch. As they talked about sex, and work, and family I alternately did my best to keep from getting soft and to keep from making noise when I was hard and nearly cumming. Often during their lunches, Ted will allow his shirt to fall open so I can see his now-soft cock; this lets me beat myself up over where that cock has been and what it has been doing while he and my wife enjoy their meal together. Today, however, his shirt covered everything, and as I learned years ago, it is NOT my place to ask him to move it. When they finished lunch and Sally started to return a few work calls, Ted came over and sat down in the armchair next to me. Yet even then he kept his leg raised enough to keep me from seeing anything. I was frustrated, because there isn't much during lunch that turns me on, but once again I knew better than to ask him to change positions. When Sally finished on the phone she got up, extended her hand to him and said, "It's time for us to be alone together again." A 60-plus year old man and a 50-plus year old woman can consider having sex twice in an hour to be quite an achievement. So when they went back to bed I assumed they would cuddle, talk and plan their next date. The sound of Sally's pocket rocket starting up really surprised me; the sound of Ted getting excited again just impressed the hell out of me, and made me feel even more the sexual loser. I don't think I've cum three times in a day since I was in my 20's; here they were, going for number three in the span of two hours. Later, as Ted told me about their date, he explained that he and my wife were "engaging in mutual masturbation." He said they both got close, but he reached the breaking point first. "I knew I was about to cum, and I just had to be inside her. So I told her to lie back and spread her legs NOW. I got inside her and came almost instantly. Then I helped her to cum – which did not take long at all." Yes, he told me this while he sat, dressed and satisfied, in the same chair he had occupied after lunch, with his cock exposed, but not to me. As he told me the details of sex with my wife I jerked off harder and harder, still unwilling to ruin the mood by cumming, but seeing copious amounts of pre-cum drip out of my tortured penis. I admit it: I sat there naked in front of my wife's lover, masturbating while he told me how wonderful it was to fuck my wife. I did all I could to keep the conversation going because I know that when I just moan and groan, Ted gets up and leaves. He was torturing me with the details of their date, of their sex, and I was beyond caring about the shame of masturbating while he told me of his time inside my wife. For a brief moment I had an out-of-body experience as I thought about how I looked – how we looked – during our conversation. He looked pleased and satisfied. I looked pathetic. Before he left, Ted said he was hoping his work would bring him to our area soon. "I can't wait to fuck your wife in your bed again," he said. Again, I nodded in understanding because... well, because what the hell else am I supposed to do? But as I nodded, I thought about what this man was saying to me: he did not ASK me if he could come to our house to fuck my wife, he simply said he couldn't wait to do it again. He knew - and I knew - that Sally would love to invite him into her bed - into OUR bed, and he knew that I would not stop them if she did. He even knew I would make our bed for them before he arrived, so it would be as wonderful for them as I could possibly make it. Pathetic. After he left, I let Sally sleep for an hour as she had requested. I spent 50 minutes of that hour jerking off, reliving the petting, the kiss, the invitations to peek at sex, the sounds of ecstasy coming through the closed bedroom door. When the hour was almost up I cleaned up, dressed and packed away the lunch dishes, then woke my wife from her deep, deep sleep. I kissed her, told her I loved her and asked her how she was. "I had a great time. Thank you. Are you okay?" "I'm good," I replied. "It hurt a lot, but it feels right." "I'm really glad," she answered. We drove home quietly; the Bad Girl Compartment had closed, and my Good Girl was back. But we both knew that deep inside my Good Girl, Ted's sperm were swimming around. I know it's pathetic. I'm pathetic. Even now it's hard for me to say the word. But we are all happy, and it feels... right. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 24 Making it Real A Cuckold's Diary, Chapter 35 May, 2012 PLEASE, folks: this is a story about cuckolding. Honest, I wouldn't lie to you! If you read it, you are going to hear about cuckolding. If this will upset you, may I suggest that you either a) don't read it, or b) don't get your nose out of joint when you get upset. I post this in the Loving Wives Section of Literotica because it's about a loving wife... and husband. If it doesn't meet your criteria for love, please see the paragraph above. Sally isn't leaving me, she isn't into me for my money, and our love keeps growing as we embrace our relationship. But thanks for worrying! Sincerely, Cuckold Paul On a date with her lover a few months ago, Sally did something completely unexpected. As I sat outside their bedroom door I heard Ted cum for the third (!) time that day – a long, powerful orgasm that sounded like he was ejaculating some internal organs. As soon as he finished, Sally called to me and told me to come in. I walked in, jerking off as I had been doing all day, and saw Ted lying next to my wife, still shaking and spasming from cumming. Sally pointed to her belly, which glistened with white lines of his semen, and told me to lick it up. I was thrilled to do that, but very surprised because their orgasms have been off-limits to me for years. Yes, they will invite me in once or twice on each date to show me how they fuck, or suck, or cuddle together, but we all came to an unspoken realization several years ago that cumming was, well... personal, and not to be shared. It feels good this way to them, and while it doesn't feel good to me to be excluded from seeing that, it does feel *right.* I did as Sally said. I licked all of Ted's sperm from her belly, astonished at how much he had cum when it was his third orgasm of the day. I don't like the taste of it; it's not quite to the point of making me gag, but it is a very base taste; clearly a fluid that was meant to do a job, not to be a refreshing drink. When I finished they told me to leave, and as I left I muttered "thank you" through a mouth full of viscous, bitter fluid. Once out of the bedroom I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. I opened my mouth and Ted's cum clung to my lips, my teeth and my tongue in such gooey, glue-y patterns that I nearly threw up. As I closed my lips, bubbles of semen formed along them, and when I opened my mouth again the bubbles stretched and turned into strands which did not break as my lips moved further apart. I looked at myself in the mirror, realized what I was, and I came. That night I asked Sally why she called me in and told me to lick it up. She thought for a minute and said, "I wanted you to know that what we do is real – that it's not just us making noise behind the closed door. I wanted you to see what happens when you leave the room - how good I make him feel." Her answer took my breath away. I thought she was going to say something about throwing me a crumb, or that I deserved a little treat; I NEVER thought she wanted to flaunt the sex she has – and enjoys – with her lover! I thanked her for what she had shared with me, and reeling from the psychological smack in the head my wife just gave me, I went to my home office and came again – at least as hard as Ted had, but of course, only in my own hand. That thought – that Sally wants me to see how good they make each other feel, how intense their lovemaking is – haunts me to this day. On their next date, in April, Sally and Ted agreed to let me see a little more of the reality of their sex: they said they would start their foreplay in the living room before they left me to go to bed together. More exciting, they said I could take a video of it! I actually went out and bought a new video camera for the experience – ever the practical one, Sally said we might also want it if our son and daughter ever give us grandchildren :). Sally chose a conservative outfit – silver blouse, black pants, a black sweater and the bra and panties we bought for her dates when we were in Paris. Of course, she had her hair done and had a mani/pedi to get ready for her lover. If a picture is worth a thousand words, a video is worth a thousand orgasms. I can tell you what happened as they made out with each other, but I can't possibly describe the emotions – the passion, the excitement, the affection – which I see every time I watch it. It's not just that they kissed 26 times in the 12-minute video (yes, I counted); the most startling thing is that my wife is the one whose lips reached out first almost every time. Thank God for image stabilization, because I know how much my hands were shaking as I tried to hold the camera while my wife made out with her lover. They touched each other, kissed each other, undressed each other. Ted caught his breath when Sally's French bra came into view, and when he removed it his mouth dove for her nipple – for my wife's nipple. She returned the favor; the moment she pulled down his underwear, his cock disappeared into her mouth. Yes, I now have a video – and vid caps – of my wife with another man's penis in her mouth. Equally exciting is the look of pleasure on his face... and on hers. When they were both naked, and Sally had sucked his cock expertly, they laid back on the couch and kissed. What caught my eye was the strand of pre-cum which flowed out of the tip of Ted's cock and dangled in mid-air as they kissed. I knew I was looking at the first of the cum that would leave his penis that day – and I knew that the rest of it would find its home in my wife's pussy. After 12 minutes they stood up, held each other for one more naked kiss, and walked together to the bedroom. The last sound on the video is their bedroom door clicking shut. Those two events – Sally calling me in to lick up her lover's cum, and allowing me to see the intimacy of their foreplay – did, indeed, make it REAL for me. It's a good thing that digital movies don't wear out, because that video would be in shreds by now if it did. My wife and her lover gave me the gift of acknowledging that I am a cuckold, and allowing me to see - and taste – the shame of my place in the world. Which brings us to last week's date. And the fact that reality isn't always sexy. You may recall that Sally had knee replacement surgery last summer. She made a superb recovery, and while it was not an easy process, one of the high points of her recuperation was the day Ted came to our house to visit and to fuck her in our bed. Well, exactly one year after the surgery, her other knee decided it was finished, too. So in mid-June we're going to go through it all again. NOT sexy, I know, but real. However, one thing on Sally's pre-surgery list was one more date with her lover. That was the setting for last Thursday, when we both canceled our work appointments so she could fuck Ted again. After the G-rated outfits she had worn for her recent dates, Sally decided to take a different approach. She and I went shopping together – yes, I helped my wife choose the outfit she would wear for her lover – and she decided on a sheer, black peignoir, black thigh-high stockings, and a black bra and panties. As she pulled the peignoir off the hanger and held it in front of me she asked, "Do you think Ted will like this?" Between trying to catch my breath from the thought of her wearing that, and trying to remember to breathe as I realized what she was asking me, I gasped out "omygodyes." Later, walking through the mall with me carrying the lingerie we just bought for her date, Sally suddenly turned to me. She kissed me – a powerful, loving kiss – and said, "I'm really looking forward to seeing Ted." The next day she had her nails done, and I picked up the lunch they had ordered for their date. We got a late start toward the hotel that night, and arrived well after 11 pm. When we checked in, the desk person we know best was waiting for us. She said hello, and told us she had upgraded us to the suite with a whirlpool bath. Actually it was the honeymoon suite, and as we made our way to the room a very tired wife said, "it's a good thing Ted's coming here tomorrow, or the honeymoon suite would go to waste." I groaned aloud in the elevator. We were both exhausted, but I was not able to sleep as I thought about what had brought us here. I excused myself for a while, went into the living room and jerked off as I remembered I would spend all of the next day out here, only occasionally in the company of my wife... and the man coming here to fuck her. The morning proceeded as always; I got up early, showered and dressed, and grabbed a quick bite in the lobby. Then I brought breakfast in bed to Sally, and straightened up the bedroom as she ate. When she went to shower it was my turn to make the bed for them, an act which never ceases to embarrass me even as I work to make sure it is perfectly made. Finally, Sally called me into the bathroom to inspect her breasts. This is an important part of our ritual, and I look forward to it intensely. Sally always takes a tweezer and removes any stray hairs growing on her tits, then calls me in to inspect them and point out any she missed. She does a very good job, so I need to be inches from her breasts to see any tiny, blonde hairs... the closest I ever get to them, and the closest I ever get to sex with my wife. She had prepared herself perfectly, and I couldn't find a single hair even though I really, really looked. Ted knocked on the door, but Sally was still naked. She told me to keep him by the door so she could get to the bedroom without him seeing her – an odd concept if you consider that they were there to fuck, but a very sexy one when you realize she wanted to put on sexy clothes for him to see... and remove. I opened the door, and my wife's lover entered the suite. I explained what was happening, and he was only too happy to wait. I watched and saw my naked wife scurry from the bathroom into the bedroom, realizing that this was how he would see her for most of the day. But with her safely hidden, I invited him to sit down in the living room. He told me how horny he was for her, and I nodded dumbly; even after all these years I've never figured out how to respond when he tells me he's horny for my wife and we both know that she is just as horny for him. In just a few minutes, Sally emerged. She came into the living room and leaned one hand against the wall, pushing her hip to the side and her chest forward. She was astonishingly beautiful and breathtakingly sexy. I know that's how I reacted, and when I heard Ted say, "Oh my!" I knew I was not the only one who felt that way. Of course, when she moved into the room she headed for him, not for me. Ted jumped to his feet, wrapped his arms around Sally's nearly-naked waist, and kissed her passionately. Then he stood back and said he wanted to look at her. I saw my wife standing there in a bra, panties, thigh-high stockings and a sheer peignoir, then I saw her lover looking at her as I was. It was both a thrill and a devastating blow to see his cock grow in his pants as he stared at her, taking in every inch of her body. He kissed her again, and helped her sit down on the couch. As always, they told me to get them coffee. I've described the feeling of leaving my wife alone in a hotel room with her lover, and my conflicting desires to give them some time alone together and to get back as fast as possible so I wouldn't miss the little they would share with me before going to bed. I walked deliberately, forcing myself not to race; when I returned and opened the door I found them holding each other and kissing passionately. I laid their coffee (each prepared as they like) in front of them and returned to my seat facing the couch. They talked for a while, but while they talked they never stopped touching each other. Ted couldn't keep his hands off Sally's bra, and Sally kept kissing him and caressing his arm, his leg and his crotch through his pants. I sat dumbly, watching my wife and her lover begin their sexual dance. It wasn't long before Ted said, "I need to see you in the other room now," and helped Sally to her feet. I figured the show was over, but wow, was I wrong! They walked just a few steps when Sally grabbed a chair from the dining area, sat down and began opening Ted's pants. She was facing toward me, so when she pulled Ted's pants down I was confronted with the sight of his ass and her hands holding his waist. I couldn't see what she was doing, but his reactions – physical and aural – left no doubt in my mind. He moaned, groaned, sucked in his breath and at times cried out in pleasure, and his ass cheeks alternately clenched and released as my wife sucked his cock. At one point he grunted and his ass clenched tightly; I thought he was cumming in her, and apparently he thought so, too, because he pulled away from her before he went over the edge. "I want to fuck you," he said. Sally nearly jumped to her feet – not an easy task for someone facing knee surgery – and Ted reached down to pull up his pants enough to walk to the bedroom. As he turned to follow Sally, his hardon pointed directly toward her pussy. And damn, was he hard: even from across the room I could see the head of his cock enlarged and deep red. That was my first glimpse of his cock that day, as he prepared to fuck my wife with it. Just before they left the living room, Sally stopped and said, "Wait one minute, please." She turned and walked over to me, smiled at me and gave me an intensely passionate kiss – the most passionate kiss she had shared with me in quite a while. When she broke off the kiss she looked into my eyes and said, "I'm going to fuck him now," and walked away with her lover. Only after hearing the bedroom door click shut did I breathe again, and only then did I realize that she kissed me right after sucking his cock until he was ready to fuck her. I shuddered at the humiliation and the thrill, and quickly pulled off my pants to start masturbating. I carried a chair into the hallway outside their bedroom, grabbed the jar of Vaseline and began jerking off. As I felt the pleasure of my hand on my penis, I realized it was now my only sex partner. And just as that realization occurred to me, I heard Ted groan and Sally sigh; he was fucking her. I thought of the movies they let me take, the foreplay and the sex they let me see and the cum Sally had me lick up, and I understood what was happening. Even without seeing what they were doing, I knew they were fucking. But I knew it was more than just sex; it was passion, too. Because they had shown me the sex AND the passion, and they were both... real. My wife was fucking Ted, her lover, her only sex partner, and they were not thinking about me. They were making love to each other, and it was REAL. I sat outside the door and masturbated as I listened to them make love. They fucked for quite a while, until Ted came – loudly – in my wife. I will never get used to the knife-thrust of pain which courses through me when I hear him cum in her: his pleasure, her devotion to his pleasure and the lonely feeling of my hand on my penis mix and roar through me hard enough to make me feel unsteady in the chair. Then her vibrator started up, and Ted did all the things he does to my wife to excite her and make her cum. She came hard, shaking the bed and the floor, and her gasps as the aftershocks hit carried clearly through the door. I had been cuckolded. I AM cuckolded. I am a cuckold. For real. They were quiet for a long time, then they talked for a long time. I have no idea what they said, but Sally told me later that they talked about how good their relationship is and how the sex keeps getting better. They talked about her surgery, and agreed that as soon as Sally was up to it, Ted would come to our house to "make her feel better." They didn't even ask me if it was okay for him to fuck my wife in our house, in our bed; they knew I would do whatever they needed, whatever they wanted, and I would never interfere. My reverie was interrupted by Sally. "Paul, bring me the lotion." I asked her to say again what she wanted, because I couldn't believe she needed artificial lubrication; as I've seen for the past 14 years, she is NEVER dry when she is with him. So, why suddenly a call for the lotion? I grabbed the little bottle the Hampton Inn provides, opened the door and immediately understood. When I entered, I was greeted with the sight of two naked bodies, intertwined. Ted was kissing Sally's head and caressing her right breast; Sally was stroking his hard cock as she nuzzled against his shoulder. (Yes, he had cum just a little while ago, but you wouldn't have known it from his cock, which was straining as if it was about to pop out of its skin.) Sally said, "I promised Ted a wet, slippery hand job, so I need the lotion." She took the small bottle from me, and as she squeezed its contents into her hand, Ted said, "You can leave now." I turned to leave when Sally said, "No, I think he should watch this." Sally took the bottle from my hand, opened it and emptied half its contents into her right hand. That hand dove for his cock, encircled it and lightly spread the lotion along the length of his shaft. It looked like he had been struck by lightning: his already-hard cock seemed to grow in Sally's hand, and his hips jumped off the bed as she reached the head. I had to stop touching myself to keep from cumming. I don't think I've ever seen anything as erotic, as dirty in the best sense of the word, as my wife giving her lover a "wet, slippery hand job." Really. Over the years I've seen everything: kissing, touching, sucking, fucking, even cumming, back years ago. But what I saw was the final piece of the puzzle for me: the experience that made the transformation complete. I am no longer a man in any sexual way; I am a voluntary eunuch. Watching my wife pleasure her lover was an indescribable mix of pleasure and pain for me. I watched each of her manicured, nail-polished fingertips caress Ted's cock. I saw each flick of a finger, each squeeze of her hand reflected in the contortions of Ted's face and the jerking of his body. As she stroked him faster and faster, he looked like a marionette being manipulated by someone on speed: body parts jerking uncontrollably, moans and groans getting louder and deeper, his cock growing purple in her hand. He looked at me for a moment and said, "You will never know how good this feels." Actually what he said was, "OHHHH you will never know how UHHHHH good UNNNHHHH this feeLSSSSSS!" Again I had to stop touching myself to keep from cumming on the spot. Sally smiled at me for a moment, then turned her attention back to his cock. "NOW it's time for you to leave," she said. I heard him enter her just before the door clicked shut. While they fucked, I sat outside the door and jerked off as I tried to assimilate what I had just seen. It wasn't only that my wife gave her lover an awesome hand job, it was that she overruled him and said she wanted me to see it happen. MY WIFE wanted to show me what she can do for a man she wants to pleasure, and she sure showed me. Damn, she showed me. I sat in shock, rubbing my penis as I replayed the scene of Ted thrashing around like a fish out of water, telling me how good my wife was making him feel. I think it was the sexiest, most obscene thing I've ever witnessed, and now, a week later, my head still spins when I think of it. He was naked and hard; she was naked and making him harder. I was the cuckold, the sexless witness to sex. And I still am. My self-flagellation, both mental and physical, ended when Ted called through the door and told me to run the water for the whirlpool. I almost ran to the bathroom to do as he instructed. As I think back on it now, I realize that I was SO happy to be able to do something for them. And I also realize how strange it is to speak about THEM this way. My wife. And Ted. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 24 The Whirlpool was a big thing: big enough for two people to sit side by side, facing each other. It took a while to adjust the water so the temperature would be comfortable for them, and longer for it to fill. I added some bubble bath, and when it was ready I gently knocked on their bedroom door and told them. They emerged a few minutes later, naked, holding each other and smiling. As they walked into the bathroom Sally said, "Paul, I think we'd each like a glass of wine in the tub." So as they got settled in the tub and experimented with the water jet settings, I went to the kitchen, opened the wine I had brought for them, and poured two glasses. I brought wine to my wife and her lover as they bathed naked in the whirlpool. (I've read and re-read that last line a dozen times, thinking about what I said... and thinking about the fact that it is real. "Humbling" doesn't begin to describe the feeling of serving your wife and her lover while they are together; "humiliating" is closer, but even that seems too gentle. Probably "emotionally devastating" is most accurate, but even that doesn't include the added twist, that Sally, Ted and I all know that it excites me to be treated this way. God, how it excites me to be treated this way!) I handed them their drinks. The bubbles in the whirlpool were increasing at a slightly alarming rate, which prevented me from seeing anything except their heads. But I saw where they were each sitting, and from that I got a good idea of who was touching whom, where, and how. I asked if I could stay and watch. Ted said "No" almost immediately, and Sally showed no sign of disagreeing. As I headed out he added, "But you can leave the door open." I was SO excited, and even realizing how pathetic I was to be excited that I could listen to their conversation couldn't diminish my joy. They talked about work, about family, about how Ted loved the way the bubbles formed mounds on Sally's tits. At one point Ted noted that hot tubs are lots of fun, but hell on an erection. I sat just outside the door and masturbated as I listened to the lovers' conversation. Finally, Sally told me to come in and help her out of the tub. Please picture this scene: Sally and Ted are standing in the tub; she is on his right, facing me. As she goes to step out I take her right hand, and for a moment Ted and I are equally balanced, standing with Sally between us. Ted and Sally are naked; I am only wearing my unbuttoned shirt. To someone who saw just that picture, just that moment, it might appear that we were a ménage-a-trois: two men preparing to bed the beautiful, naked woman. But nothing would be further from the truth. When Sally was out of the tub and finished drying herself off, I saw there were bubbles on her chest, just below her neck. Without even thinking I picked up a towel and cleaned away the bubbles; what could be more natural than doing this for my wife? Sally smiled at me – with love and a little pity – took Ted's hand, and walked back into the bedroom with him. When the door closed and I resumed my position sitting outside their bedroom, the sound of the vibrator mixed with the word that kept sounding in my head. The word isn't used very often these days, but in biblical times it was an important role: eunuch. The dictionary defines eunuch as, "a castrated man, especially one formerly employed by Oriental rulers as a harem guard." Of course, I haven't actually been castrated; I'd hate that, and Sally would never do that to me. She has nothing against my penis; she just doesn't want to feel my penis against her! But over the years, as she has grown into her sexual relationship with Ted and more distant sexually from me, I have found excitement in the sweet pain of her infidelity. This has enabled and emboldened me to accept my new role in our relationship: the husband who never upsets his wife by asking for sex, and who does everything in his power to make sure her dates with her lover are as wonderful as they can be. So I'm not exactly a eunuch. Maybe "voluntary eunuch" is more accurate. Eunuchs served in the harem because they were no threat to the women, or to the men. They could see the women dressed for sex, or not dressed at all; there was nothing they could do about it other than to fulfill their tasks of responding to the women's needs and desires. Isn't that me? It's been more than five and a half years since we stopped having sex, and we have reached a point where I wouldn't think of asking, and Sally doesn't worry about my asking. We see each other naked (since I'm NOT a real eunuch, that excites me tremendously), but there is no more possibility that we will have sex than there would be if I were castrated. And I do everything I can for her, for them: I make the hotel arrangements, help her get ready, drive her to him, open the door and invite him in, get them coffee while they make out, and wish them a good time when they get up to go to bed. I run their bath and bring them wine. I help my wife out of the tub and dry her chest for him. I'm a voluntary eunuch. Holy shit, I really am. I chose this. I accept this. And it actually matters to me that I fulfill my role as completely and as beautifully as possible. Ted's noises continued for a few more minutes, diminished and then stopped. There was quiet for a while, then Sally called out to tell me they were ready for lunch. Jumping to fulfill my servant role, I went to the kitchen and prepared their lunch. When it was ready I knocked softly on their door to let them know. They came out shortly after; Ted in his button-down shirt, open and pulled to the sides so his cock stuck out in front of him, still hard; Sally in her red robe, which was untied by still pulled together enough to hide her breasts – from me. Lunch was ordinary, if you consider lovers eating lunch while the husband sits nearby and masturbates ordinary. But it was ordinary for us, with the happy couple paying little attention to me and continuing to catch up on their lives. When they finished they got up to head back to bed, but once again Sally detoured over to me and gave me a mind-blowing kiss before returning to her lover. The door closed, Sally's vibrator started up, and I sat outside the door while Ted made my wife cum. The sounds of her pleasure were unmistakable: deep, strained and finally unbound as she came in his arms. I looked at my own rock-hard penis, thought of the pleasure they share only with each other, and knew this is REAL. It took Ted longer to cum the second time; more accurately, Sally sucked and fucked him longer until she made him cum in her. Then it was quiet, and I did my best to be quiet as I masturbated furiously, the echoes of their cries of passion reverberating through my head and my body. Ted was right: I will NEVER know how it feels. Later, Ted came out dressed and ready to leave. He sat down on the couch, and without even thinking I slid to the floor by the chair I was on. It didn't feel right to be at the same level as him, and he was comfortable with my decision. He told me about making love with my wife: what they did, what they talked about, and even a little of what they felt together. He started talking about the outfit she wore, and kept coming back to how much he loves her tits, both in and out of her bra. He asked me if I ever get to be close to her tits. I thought about it and said the only time is before he arrives, when Sally has me check them for any stray hairs. He looked surprised, and asked me to repeat what I had said. I thought for sure Sally had told him about this, but clearly not: he was really amused by what I was saying. As I told him about getting just an inch or two away from her nipples so I could find the tiniest hair she overlooked, he did something he had never done before: he laughed out loud. After years of him humiliating me by cuckolding me, I had finally shared something so demeaning, so shameful, so emasculating that I got him to laugh at me. And that, too, seemed right; I was glad I could entertain him a little. I jerked my cock like I wanted to pull it off, and Ted rose to leave. "Thank you for giving my wife what I can't give her – what I never could," I grunted to him as he walked to the door. He turned, smiled and said, "Oh, it was completely my pleasure. As soon as Sally is ready, I'll come to your house." I let Sally sleep for an hour, as I sat in the living room and masturbated. I replayed the events of the day: the outfit, the blowjob in front of me in the living room, the bath, the wet, slippery hand job, the closed door while the lovers made love. I thought that everything had gone really well today, and I was proud. I woke Sally with a kiss, which she eagerly returned. Not a sexual kiss, of course, but a loving one. On the way home, Sally said, "You're really quiet when you're outside the door. Thank you." I said she was welcome, and I love her. She told me she loves me, too, and we drove home together. Just me, my wife and her lover's sperm in her womb. Somewhere along the way I realized how proud I felt that she had complimented me for being quiet while she fucked Ted. It is REAL. All of it. I am a cuckold and a voluntary eunuch; no longer a sexual threat, no longer even a sexual consideration, but a great guy to have on dates because I'll take care of all the arrangements and then sit quietly while the lovers are in bed. My wife is glad, her lover is happy with our arrangement, and I am where I was always meant to be. Cuckold Paul P.S. – Since it takes me a while to write up our experiences, I'm happy to say that Sally's surgery went very well, and she's recovering at an amazing rate. She's now practicing her "most important exercise," which is the one where she bends her knees enough to be able to wrap them around Ted's back :-) . A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 25 Chapter 25: Discovering Who I Am, and Always Was October, 2012 Preface: Please, dear Literotica reader, if you don't like stories about cuckolding, don't read this. It's about cuckolding. Honest, I wouldn't lie to you. But if you read it anyway, and you get to the end and go, "Holy shit, this story was about cuckolding!" and insist on giving it a low rating, then I hope it makes you feel incredibly superior to me. Forward: Cuckolding has been a journey of discovery for Sally and me. Now, 14 1/2 years after we began, it's a good time to look at exactly what we have discovered. Sally discovered that she loves sex. I discovered that I was always meant to be a cuckold. What brought me to this realization was a combination of a thread from the Cuckold Forum on Ourhotwives.org, and Sally and Ted's last date. The thread's title was, "When did you first discover that you had cuckold tendencies?" I read it with interest, and heard many people saying things that rang true with me. I hope the authors won't mind me quoting them; I've omitted their names to protect their confidentiality, but among the responses: "I recall from days when I had my first date around 17 y.o., my girlfriend at the time was fooling around with different guys and I found myself strangely not jealous and even imagining her doing the dirty deed..." "Mine went quite far back. I dated a hot girl in high school..." "I think the first seed was planted when I was sixteen..." "Mine was very early in life... She was my high school sweetheart..." "When I was about 16, but I didn't know what a 'cuckold' was until well into my 20's." "I guess I was 15." "It started around age 17, although there were hints as early as 12." "I sometimes wonder if we're born that way and we're tuned to things like this when they happen?" "Hmmm...never gave this much thought before...think i was born this way." Could it be true? Can we be BORN this way? And if not actually "born" this way, can it be that as we discovered sex, we discovered that we were meant to be outside, looking in? I remember digging my father's Playboy magazines out of his dresser drawer as a teenager. Looking at those astonishingly beautiful women, I was always amazed that they would take their clothes off for men to look at them, to stare at them, to jerk off at them. I actually don't ever remember thinking about fucking them; I just wanted to look – to see them naked. I wondered what could make them expose themselves... Money? Attention? Wantonness? And I wondered what it would be like to see them do that for ME. A few quick flings in high school, then in my freshman year of college I met the woman (girl?) who would become my first wife. She was willing to try most anything, and in our third year of marriage she came home from work and told me her boss had made a pass at her. She wasn't upset; she seemed surprised and somewhat amused. I asked her what he had said, and as she told me I found myself hard as a rock. I asked her how she responded to his advances, and she said, "I told him I'm married." "Did you just say you're married, or did you also say that you don't want to?" She looked a little annoyed, but not as much as I expected. "I said I was married, and the answer was 'no'." Then, out of nowhere, I heard myself saying, "Well, would you WANT to?" She looked at me with surprise, but really not as much surprise as I expected. She hesitated, then spoke very quietly. "If you would be okay with it, I think I would." We hugged, we kissed, and my hardon didn't go away. So began a five-year relationship between my wife and her lover. I never saw them in action, since he didn't even want to know that I knew, but I helped her prepare for many dates and welcomed her home after many others. One day, in year four of their relationship, I spent the morning helping her get ready, physically and emotionally, for a date with her lover. We were sitting on the bed together, waiting for him to buzz at the door to say she should come down to him. I was naked, jerking off as I looked at my wife – dressed, prepared and horny for him. She thanked me for being so good about letting her have a lover and helping her get ready for him, and then she said something I'll never forget. "You're really no good in bed," she said, "but there can't be any husband anywhere who is better at helping his wife get ready to cheat on him than you are." I made it a point never to cum before her dates, but I broke my rule that moment as I erupted in my hand. The doorbell buzzed, she smiled at me and left me there, my cum dripping all over my groin. The weird thing was, I actually felt happy about what she said... I was GOOD at helping her get ready to cheat on me! Of course it hurt to have my wife tell me point-blank that she was cheating on me, but it also felt... RIGHT. As if I was always meant to be where I was at that moment. Our marriage ended a year later, for reasons completely unrelated to our strange, powerful sexual relationship. This was before the internet, so I didn't even know the word "cuckold," let alone think there were others out there like me. I kept my excitement and my shame to myself until I met and became serious with Sally. I told her about my secret desires, and to her credit she didn't run away. She did say "no" very forcefully, but allowed me to entertain my fantasy as long as I wasn't too much of a pain in the ass about it. You can read in Chapter 1 about how, after 15 years of marriage, Sally changed her mind and began cuckolding me. You can read in all the rest of the chapters about how her sexuality grew, how our closeness as a couple grew, and how at the same time, the instances of our own sex together grew fewer and farther between. At the end of the process, six years ago next month, Sally asked if I could accept her only having sex with him, since it was so good with him and so bad with me. She added immediately that she would want us to have sex once a year, every year, on our anniversary. There was no question in her mind, or my mind, or even Ted's mind about my answer: I would continue to do everything I could to make their dates perfect; I would bring my wife to him and wait outside while they made love; and now, I would accept that sex is only for them. Other, that is, than once a year. ONCE every 365 days. I said yes. And that felt right, too. The experiences which followed our newest agreement have been described in the more recent chapters of my Diary; I leave it to those who are interested to seek them out. But those experiences have gradually convinced me – and Sally, and Ted – that I AM a cuckold; not just that Sally cuckolds me, but that it's what I am and probably was always meant to be. I am very good at a lot of things in life, and even in marriage, but sex isn't one of them and never was. Sally has told me so. My first wife told me so. And deep down I really always knew it. And so it was that we waited for Ted to arrive at our hotel suite for their most recent date. I had prepared the rooms by making the bed, setting the table for their lunch and laying out Sally's vibrator and KY Intense dispenser beside the bed. I had checked Sally's breasts for any stray hairs, and found none; she puts a lot of effort into preparing herself for him. Now, sitting in the living room of our suite, I looked at my wife: hair and nails recently done, makeup perfect, her outfit chosen specially for her lover as she sat there in a black, see-though bra, matching panties and her almost-transparent short, black robe. I thought about how comfortable she looked, dressed for sex with another man. No shame, no second thoughts, no concerns that what she is about to do was wrong, and not a moment spent thinking I would stop her from going to bed with Ted when he arrives. I told her she looked beautiful, and I said I hoped they would both have a great time. "Oh, we will. Thank you for doing such a good job of preparing everything for us," is how my wife replied. I said she was welcome, and I meant it. And I felt good that I could do that for her – for them. When Ted knocked, I opened the door for him and said hello. He ignored me completely and made a beeline for my wife. Leaning over her on the couch he kissed her deeply and his left hand went immediately to her bra-covered tits. He was all over her, kissing and touching her and telling her how much he missed her. She responded in kind, opening her mouth for his tongue and sliding her hand down to his crotch. I saw his cock grow inside his pants as my wife showed him how much she missed him. I left the room to get them coffee. I know how each of them likes it, and I made sure to get the orders straight. I consciously walked slowly and took my time, as they often laugh at how quickly I return with the coffee when they are together. When I let myself back into the room I saw that they hadn't moved; they were still kissing, Ted was still feeling up my wife, and Sally's hand had created quite a tent-pole in Ted's pants. They never touched the coffee. They tried to slow the pace a little, talking about family and work, but their hands and their mouths kept being drawn together. I wasn't surprised when Sally said, "It's time for us to be in bed... NOW." Ted nearly jumped to his feet, helped her up from the couch and headed toward the bedroom. But Sally walked over to where I was sitting, bent over and pushed my face into her cleavage. "This is what I'm giving him. I used to give it to you – only you – but you lost it. Now, it's only for him. I love you, but now I'm going to bed with HIM." She let me stare at the skin above her bra for a minute, then leaned further over and gave me a powerful, passionate, tongue-filled kiss. She has told me that this is the way she always kisses Ted, but the only time she shares it with me is when she is getting ready to fuck him. She broke away from me, took Ted's hand and walked with him to the bedroom. I heard the door click shut behind them, but the memory of that kiss, and the momentary view of the tops of my wife's tits, remained with me all day. I took off my clothes and took my seat right outside the closed bedroom door. I heard clothes rustling, covers moving, kissing and gasps from Ted... I didn't need to see them to know that my wife was sucking his cock within two minutes of saying she loved me. No sooner had I started to jerk off than the bedroom door opened. Ted had opened it, and I saw him standing naked next to the bed, facing away from me. His body shook, and I saw Sally lying on the bed, facing him and blowing him. I couldn't see her face and I couldn't see his cock; all I saw was his naked ass clenching and jerking as my wife pleasured him. He leaned his left arm on the headboard for support as his hips began rocking back and forth: he was fucking my wife's mouth. I sat there in awe of what they were doing, of what he was feeling, and I tried to stay silent as I masturbated to the sight. After three or four minutes of flaunting their sex in front of me, Ted reached over and shut the door in my face. I hear talking, moving around, covers rustling and the sound of Sally's vibrator starting up. I listened as my wife's lover touched her, kissed her, sucked her nipples and told her how much he wanted her to feel good in his arms. {I couldn't actually make out the words, but Sally told me later that this is what he said.} His excitement grew as hers did, and I knew she was cumming even before I heard her gasp, simply from the tone and tenor of his erotic whispers. Yes, it really hurts to hear my wife cum in her lover's arms. No question about it, it hurts, especially since she's told me (and shown me) that she would rather get off alone, or not at all, than do it with me. Only on our anniversary do I get to hold her when she cums, and only once. Since she cums two or three times on each date with Ted, I understand that the one time is a gift she gives to me, not something she herself enjoys as sex. Yet along with the pain are two other feelings which I've come to see and appreciate: happiness and satisfaction. Happiness that she can feel so good in her lover's arms, and satisfaction that I have found my sexual station in life. My place is outside the bedroom door, playing with myself while my wife finds pleasure with her lover. Ted hadn't cum yet, so I knew what would happen next. Within a minute of her orgasm I heard the movements which would result in him fucking my wife. Sure enough, the random sounds quickly turned rhythmic; anyone in the world would recognize the cadence of two people fucking. I jerked off like mad, thinking about what it must feel like to Ted as he slides his cock in and out of my wife's pussy. Suddenly, Sally called my name. "Yes?" I answered tentatively. "Come in," she said. I stood up, my penis still in my hand, and opened the bedroom door. I don't know how to describe the scene I saw because I have to describe it one subject at a time, while in real life it all hit me simultaneously. So please try to picture this: Sally is on her hands and knees, on top of Ted. They are both completely naked. Sally is rocking gently back and forth, and I get a glimpse of Ted's hard cock sliding in and out of her pussy. Her tits are pointing at his face, and he is holding one in each hand and kissing first one nipple then the other. He is groaning and his legs are shaking with each movement of my wife's hips on his cock. Have the picture? Now let me add one more thing: If you've been reading my Diary, you know that Sally had her second knee replacement surgery this past June. So I swear to God, my first thought when I came into the bedroom was that I was so glad her knee felt good enough to do this – to be on top of him while she fucked him. I said that to them, and Sally – without altering her rhythm at all - remarked to Ted, "Wow, he noticed!" She didn't say a word to me. She never looked at me. But obviously it was all right with her for me to watch her fuck another man for a while. I stood by the side of the bed, taking in every detail of their passion, their lovemaking. Her tiny gasps, his louder groans, her tits given so freely, her newly-repaired knees doing so well in bending back and forth, back and forth... As quietly as possible, I walked to the foot of the bed. Standing there I saw... sex. Raw, passionate, powerful sex. I remembered Woody Allen's response when he was asked if he thought sex is dirty: "It is if you do it right." Well, they were doing it right, and what I saw was just plain dirty: my wife's pussy, naked and open; her legs spread around Ted's body; her ass cheeks wide and her asshole gaping open as if imitating its neighbor, her pussy, which formed a huge O around Ted's hard cock. Even in the dim light of the bedroom I could see his cock glisten, and I knew it was the coating of my wife's pussy juices on him. As I watched, she rocked back and forth over the head of his cock; I saw it disappear and reappear with each stroke. After a few seconds of this he groaned, "God, you're teasing me like that," and Sally responded by sitting all the way down on him in one powerful stroke. He cried out in pleasure, and I had to grab the base of my penis to keep from cumming at the sight. They continued fucking. Actually, my wife continued fucking; Ted just lay there, erection sticking up, as she slid her pussy up and down on it. With each stroke I saw her lips cling to his cock and with every move I heard him cry out with pleasure. It was dirty, it was beautiful, it was sexy, it was obscene and it was a private moment between lovers which they felt they could share with the woman's cuckold husband. It was the most amazing sight of my life. After I-have-no-idea-how-long, Sally rested her body on Ted, kissed him deeply and waved at me to leave them alone. I croaked out, "thank you both," and as I closed the door behind me I saw his cock still embedded in my wife's pussy. In less than a minute he came in her. I didn't see it, but I heard it. His "oh! Oh! OH!" grew louder, the headboard banged faster and then he gave cries of pleasure which could not be mistaken for anything else. I heard him cum, I heard him ejaculate in my wife, I heard what happens when a man's cock is caressed by a woman's pussy. The "first round" was complete. They were satisfied, at least for the moment, and I was hard as I sat by myself and listened to sex. After a quiet time, they began to talk. I have no idea what they talked about, but I heard them talking like friends as well as lovers. I knew from past experiences that while they were talking they were touching each other; they never "just" talk, they are always caressing each other's bodies as they do. I calmed down, too, and started to think about what I had witnessed: Ted opening the door so I could see Sally sucking his cock, and Sally calling me in to see her fucking Ted. It was SO hot, so exciting, that my calm lasted only a few minutes. Soon I was hard, right on the edge of losing it. It was at that moment that Sally said, "Paul, please come here." I pulled back from the edge, got up, opened the door and entered the bedroom – THEIR bedroom. I saw the two of them spooning: Ted on his left side, molding his body to my wife's. Sally reached up, handed me three pieces of her pocket rocket and said, "Would you please put this together for me?" A little background here: we buy the inexpensive, generic vibrators for Sally because she goes through them rather quickly :-). Of those that she's killed, many have died in the heat of battle as she has jammed them back together after cumming with Ted, when she wants to cum again. I've asked her to be careful with them, or at least to let me put them back together for her, so her request was not really that surprising. I took the pieces from her, wiped enough of the Vaseline off my right hand to get a grip, and gently reassembled it. When I was done I put it in her hand and she said, "Thanks, now leave." It was buzzing before I got the door closed. It took her a while to cum this time – long enough that I wondered if she'd get off, and if I would stay hard while it went on and on and on. But Ted's excitement never waned; I heard him talking to her, encouraging her, kissing her wherever he was kissing her... until finally she let out a huge groan and came in his arms. I remembered Sally telling me how he never makes her feel rushed, never gets bored and never gets impatient when he's playing with her, and once more I knew that the right man – the REAL man - was in her bed. They fucked again and Ted came in her again, though I cannot tell you anything about it since I was not invited in to watch. All I can say is that it sounded like it felt good to both of them. In the quiet after Ted's orgasm, I had time to think about what had happened. I tried to piece together the three experiences: Ted opening the door for me to watch Sally sucking his cock, Sally calling me in to show me how well she could fuck him on top, and then asking me to fix her vibrator so she could cum with him a second time. What struck me was how comfortable both of them were with what they did to me, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a woman's husband to sit outside while she fucked her lover, and even to offer assistance to make sure they had a good time. Then it hit me: now, in our relationship, it IS normal. My wife has a lover who gives her the sexual satisfaction she never experienced in our marriage. Ted has a lover who truly wants him and wants to please him. And I am what I was born to be: a cuckold. Sally knows it. Ted knows it. I know it. Ted was happy to open the door and let me watch as my wife sucked his cock because it didn't matter – I didn't matter. He knew I wouldn't interfere; I would just sit there and rub my penis while he fucked my wife's mouth. He let me watch for a while, because he knew that's what a cuckold does. Then he closed the door so he and his lover could be alone together. Perfectly natural. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 25 Sally really did want me to see how much her knee had healed. When she got on top of her lover and began fucking him, she was so happy that it felt good that she wanted to show me. She didn't think twice about whether it would bother me to see her fucking him; she knew it wouldn't, but more important, it didn't matter to her. She was pleased to feel so good, and she wanted to share that with me, so she called me in to show me. Perfectly natural. And when she needed her vibrator fixed, she called me in to do it. I'm sure that somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that she was going to ask me to fix it so she could cum again in his arms when she's made clear that she hated doing that with me, but it didn't matter. I am a cuckold, and if she needs me to fix her vibrator for sex with Ted, I'm right outside the door. And I will leave as soon as I've done my job, so she can be intimate with him in private. Perfectly natural. The strangest thing of all, though, is that it feels perfectly natural to me, too. I honestly do think I was born this way: born to sit outside the door during sex, born to see my wife and her lover enjoying each other in the most intimate ways, and born to run errands and do chores for them so they can give each other what my wife doesn't want to share with me. And of all the emotions I felt during their date, the best ones were where they took a moment from their lovemaking to show me what they were doing, and to show me what we all bring to this strange, wonderful, exciting relationship. Sally is a loving and beloved wife to me, and a passionate, receptive lover to Ted. Ted is an intelligent, dominant lover to Sally, and a good friend to me. And me? I am a cuckold. Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 26 "Ten Minutes for the Cuckold" A Cuckold's Diary, Chapter 38 November 2012 A note for Literotica readers: PLEASE, folks - this is a story about cuckolding. Honest, I wouldn't lie to you! If you read it, you are going to hear about cuckolding. If this will upset you, may I suggest that you either a) don't read it, or b) don't get your nose out of joint when you get upset. I post this in the Loving Wives Section of Literotica because it's about a loving wife... and husband. If it doesn't meet your criteria for love, please see the paragraph above. Sally isn't leaving me, she isn't into me for my money, and our love keeps growing as we embrace our relationship. But thanks for worrying! Sincerely, Cuckold Paul A few words about Sally and Ted. Sally is my wife; we're coming up on our 30th anniversary this spring. We've gone through good times and bad, but the longer we're married the better the times have been. We've raised our kids and sent them out into the world, which is what parents are supposed to do. Along the way we've tried to give them role models of a husband and wife who love each other, are passionate for each other and respect each other, all of which is true. They have NO idea that Sally cuckolds me, and that's the way it should be; children don't want to know about their parents' sex lives, no matter what flavor! What matters is that we have found a way that works for us; as you will see in this story, it works for both of us. Ted is a great guy, and a good friend to both of us (really!). He's a little older, and from time to time he reminisces about his sexual ability in years gone by. But neither of us would, or could, say he's over the hill; he turns my wife on more than I ever did, even in my younger days! He loves his relationship with Sally, and confided that he has turned down other offers because he wants to continue to fuck my wife bareback. What can you say about a man who wants his lover to be safe and comfortable fucking him? He's a successful businessman with an eye toward retirement in a few years, and he wants nothing from my wife except the pleasure they share together, and nothing from me except bringing my wife to him. Every cuckold and cuckoldress should be as blessed as we are, with a talented and caring lover! To the story... It had been a long month. Sally had traveled to a family reunion in Europe, then our youngest adult son came home for a few weeks between apartments. Then we had a run-in with a nasty, destructive woman named Sandy, as in "Hurricane Sandy." Fortunately, no injuries and no expensive damage to our home, but a week and a half without electricity didn't leave much room for Sally to be alone to masturbate. Bottom line, by the time her date with Ted arrived, she was HORNY. So was he, but to be honest, he always is. Over the past few years I've really tried hard not to choreograph their dates. It doesn't always work out perfectly for me, but I feel it's really important for all of us to know that it's about them, not me. Sometimes I'll make a request, and they do their best to honor it if it's not too over the top, but I'm very conscious of knowing my place and accepting that sex is for them, not me. So it was with some hesitation that I asked Sally for a favor. I said I knew that their lovemaking is private, and that it's very distracting to them when I'm hovering over them and jerking off while they have sex. But I wondered if, in between their lovemaking, they could find 10 minutes or so for me to come into their room and talk with them while they were in bed together. I said I didn't need a sex show, and I completely understood why they want to be alone when they are fucking, but could we perhaps just have a quiet time to talk while she and he are together? Sally asked me why I wanted that, instead of watching them fuck. I said I would just like to know the feeling of talking with them while they are a couple and I'm on the outside; to have all of us acknowledge in words that they are cuckolding me. As always, she said they'd consider my request. I thanked her, and said I couldn't ask for more. What follows is a composite of two perspectives: mine and Ted's. It only makes sense to relate the story in chronological order, but that means switching between what I saw and what Ted told me when he was done fucking my wife. I'll try to be clear about which is which. The morning of their date went as usual. We were in the hotel, and I woke her an hour before he arrived. She showered and prepared herself while I made the bed for them (see previous chapters to understand the excitement and humiliation I feel when I do this), and then Sally called me into the bathroom. She was finishing plucking the stray hairs from her breasts, and as has become our ritual, she asked me to check them to see if she had missed any. I sat on the edge of the tub and inspected my wife's breasts, to make sure they were perfect for her lover. I found only one hair, and as she plucked it with the tweezer she thanked me for my help. She sent me out to the living room to await Ted's arrival as she dressed. Well, not exactly "dressed," but she put on her sexiest black bra, matching black panties and her black, see-through peignoir, which counts as "dressed for Ted." She came out to the living room and sat on the couch facing me; I tried to remain calm, but we both knew that in a few minutes Ted would arrive, sit next to her on the couch, their date would begin and I would be forgotten. I started to get hard without even touching myself. Ted arrived just after 9 am. When he knocked on the door I let him in, and without a word to me he handed me his coat and made a beeline for my wife. He leaned over her, gave her a passionate kiss and said, "I missed you." Sally tried to say she missed him, too, but his lips were pressed against hers so tightly that it came out as "I miffd yu t-." He understood, especially since her hand found its way to his cock and she began stroking him through his pants. I asked them if they wanted me to get them coffee. They said yes, and Ted asked for -- ready for this? -- a banana. Sally took that as an excuse to stroke him again, saying something about already having one, but I did my best to choke out a response and leave them together as I went to the lobby. As I closed the door behind me, the last thing I saw was Ted leaning into my wife, kissing her and feeling her up through her bra. I came back with the coffee and an apple; they didn't have any bananas, but I made a note to myself to bring one from home next time. I really do feel it's my job to do anything I can to make their dates go perfectly, so if he wants a banana, I'll bring him one. It may be the first time I've ever gotten hard while shopping for produce, but what the hell! It looked like they hadn't moved. Ted was still kissing Sally and feeling her up, running his hands all over her bra-covered tits, and Sally was holding him with one arm and stroking his now-hard cock through his pants with the other. They paused to drink their coffee (Ted never ate the apple), then went back to making out. They talked about ordinary things -- family, work, and the just-completed election, my wife taking care not to gloat about Obama's victory to her very-Republican lover. But even as they talked, they never stopped touching each other. Ted has told me many times that he loves how Sally never stops touching him, and Sally has said the same about Ted; I understood that I was just getting a small look at what would happen over the next several hours. It was my wife who finally said, "Let's continue this conversation in the bedroom." Ted put down his coffee like it was on fire, nearly leaped to his feet and helped Sally up from the couch. As he headed toward the bedroom she walked over to me, gave me a deep, powerful, sexy kiss -- much deeper, more powerful and sexier than any kiss she gives me when we're together -- and then pulled my face into her tits. As I felt the warmth of her flesh against my lips and cheeks she said, "This is for Ted, not for you." I shuddered. She pulled away, walked over to Ted and took his hand, and the lovers went to bed. At the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut I quickly pulled down my pants and underwear. I left them, together with my shoes and socks, on the living room floor, and dragged a chair from the dining area over to the hallway outside the bedroom. By the time I sat down and started masturbating outside their door, I heard Sally's vibrator humming and Ted whispering to her. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but I knew he was telling her how beautiful she looked how sexy she looked, and how much he wanted her to feel good. I always glance at my watch when they start, because time seems to stand still when I'm being cuckolded. So I can tell you that it was exactly TWO MINUTES from when I sat down outside the bedroom door to the moment Sally came in Ted's arms. She came hard, the bed shaking again and again as her body jumped and shook, and she came loudly -- much louder than my ever-proper wife usually allows in a hotel room. Her orgasm seemed to go on forever, and as I listened to my wife cumming in her lover's arms I realized how much she had missed him. Later, Ted would tell me that she even surprised him by the rapidity and intensity of her orgasm, but he was equally happy to tell me how she simply stripped and reached for the vibrator when they went to bed together. He didn't need a reminder of how Sally only wants to have sex with him, but he got one -- in spades. Ted held Sally through her aftershocks, then he started moaning. All I knew from outside the door was that my wife spent the next 15 minutes doing something which he REALLY enjoyed; before he left, Ted told me exactly what that was. He said that as soon as she stopped shaking she rolled over and took his cock in her mouth. He said, with a dreamy look on his face even afterward, that she proceeded to give him the best blowjob he had ever had. He said she was "exciting, excited, passionate, energetic and creative" in sucking his cock. I asked him what he meant by "creative," and he said he couldn't tell me exactly; it just seemed that she tried everything that could possibly be done to a cock, and he loved it all. He also said that she sensed every time he got close to cumming, and backed off to prolong his pleasure. Finally he couldn't take it any longer. "I need to fuck you NOW," he said, and without a word my wife rolled onto her back and spread her legs as wide as they would go. (All this was related to me afterward; I can never make out what they say to each other from outside the door.) "I saw her lying there, naked and spread open, and I got on top of her and started fucking her," he told me. "I was amazed at how wet she was. You need to know that the whole time she was giving me that blowjob I wasn't touching her pussy or doing anything to turn her on; I was just enjoying the sensations she was giving me. So when I slid my cock into her and found her soaking wet, I realized that SHE was turned on by sucking my cock. And I LOVED that! I must have fucked her for five minutes before she pulled me over the edge and made me cum." Back to what I experienced from the hallway: I heard Ted moaning and groaning for well over 15 minutes. Somewhere in there I heard the sheets move, and later I realized that was when he started fucking her. But the sounds of his pleasure just kept increasing until the bed began banging rhythmically; it didn't take a genius to know he was fucking her then. And any human would recognize the sounds he made as my wife "pulled him over the edge." I sat in my chair, staring at the closed door, as he came in Sally. Right after he came -- immediately after he came -- Sally called out, "Paul, come in." I jumped to my feet but tried to pretend I was calm as I opened the door to their bedroom. What I saw was Ted on top of my wife, between her legs, continuing to fuck her. Without even glancing at me he said, "I just came in your wife." No more obvious statement has ever been made in human history, but it made my head spin. Yes, I knew he had just cum in my wife, but he TOLD ME that he did! He felt it was important for me to hear him say that, and it was: not only did he cuckold me, but he wanted me to hear it and, by extension, to acknowledge it. So I did. "I know. I heard you," I said. He continued to fuck Sally slowly. I could see his muscles still jerking from his orgasm and from the continuing pleasure of my wife's pussy around his cock. It didn't matter at all that I was standing there; he was fully engaged in sex with his lover. Sally glanced over at me, smiled and said, "You can sit on the floor right here," and pointed to the space by the bed. I grabbed a towel and sat down, looking straight at the couple as they continued to make love. She kissed him, he kissed her. He reached down and kissed her nipples, and caressed her breasts with his lips and cheek. Her arms were around his neck, and as he had told me, she never stopped touching him as they fucked. Without turning her head toward me she said, "Can you hear how wet I am?" I listened, but didn't hear anything. "No, not from here," I said. Ted took that as a challenge. He changed the angle of his penetration, and suddenly I heard the sloppy, squishing sounds of my wife's pussy with each stroke of his cock. We all know that Sally never got wet for me; not once in our relationship had she been wet enough for sex with me. So at that moment we all knew -- she knew, and I knew, and Ted knew -- that she wanted me to hear how her body feels with HIM. As she has said for many years, "My body doesn't lie. I love fucking him, and I hated fucking you." I didn't know until later that she and Ted had talked about how wet she was while he fucked her; all I knew was that my wife wanted to be sure I heard how her body sounds when she's turned on. I heard, and I was so excited I nearly came. I was SO grateful to Sally -- and to Ted -- for sharing that with me, that I was completely unprepared for what happened next. How could it possibly get any more exciting than having both of them talk to me while they fucked? I assumed they would ask (tell, actually) me to leave them alone after that, but they didn't. I watched -- and masturbated -- as Ted slowed his pace, then stopped when his cock slipped out of my wife's pussy. She let out a little sigh, but he quickly lay down beside her, spooning her, and began to kiss her and caress her tits. I sat there mesmerized as Sally lay in bed facing me: she was completely naked, exposed to my sight from head to toe. She was beautiful, and she was sexy, and she was HIS. I was only an arm's length away from her, but it might as well have been an ocean; she was in bed with HIM, and I was... not. I sat there and looked into her eyes -- well, to be honest, sometimes into her eyes and sometimes sneaking peeks at the naked body of Ted's girlfriend in front of me. We looked at each other for the longest time while Ted kissed her cheek, her neck and her shoulders, his hands never leaving her breasts and her nipples. Sally settled in, enjoying the sensations of being made love to in between being fucked. Her right arm stretched out toward me, but I didn't know whether she was reaching for me or just getting comfortable. Then she moved her hand, reaching for mine, so I reached back. I took my wife's hand and held it while I looked into her eyes and masturbated, while her lover continued to touch her naked body. I was in heaven: my wife was holding my hand while she was in bed with her lover! She said something to me which I will remember as long as I live. "This is good for both of us." I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. My wife -- my "Good Girl" -- had just fucked her lover's brains out, cum in his arms and made him cum in her pussy, called me in to show me that she was cuckolding me, and now said that this was... good. I nearly cried, and I nearly came. "Yes, it is. It's good for both of us," I said softly, as I squeezed her hand. Now, I don't even know how to do this in an order that makes sense, but let's fast forward about five minutes. Sally held my hand for most of that time, then let go as Ted turned her face toward him and kissed her, passionately, on the lips. After that he looked over at me and said, "Can you see what she's doing to my cock?" He was lying behind her, still spooning her, so since I couldn't see through her I said no. He whispered something to Sally, who then lifted her top leg straight up. Looking between her legs -- literally looking through her open pussy lips -- I saw that she was stroking his cock with her hand, and that he was hard again. Then it hit me. I can't believe I was so blind, or innocent, or just stupid, but I honestly had no idea that while she was holding my hand, while she was looking in my eyes, while she told me that this was good for both of us and waited for me to agree, she was jerking him off with her other hand. I've never felt as ashamed of myself, or as humiliated, as I did when I realized that our tender moment together, our affirmation of our relationship and of my cuckolding, wasn't just about what had happened; it was about WHAT WAS HAPPENING AT THAT MOMENT. "THIS is good for both of us" meant, "I love fucking Ted, not you. I love that we all know it. I love you, and I love that I can stroke Ted's cock while he kisses me and feels my tits. I gave you my hand while I gave him my body. And THIS is good for both of us." "Oh my God," is all I could say as I watched my wife run her hand back and forth over her lover's stiff cock. She smiled at me, but it wasn't the same smile as before. It was, for lack of a better description, a wicked smile. It both excited and scared me, and a moment later I knew why. She turned her back on me, kissed him full on the mouth, and threw her leg over him. She reached down and guided his cock into her pussy as she straddled him, and I heard him gasp as he entered her. She was hovering over him, with only the head of his cock in her. With an intensity I hadn't heard from him before he said, "Sit all the way down on me, Sally." She did, and he let out a moan which told me everything: his cock was fully inside my wife's pussy, and it felt very, very good. She began to rock back and forth, fucking him right in front of me and never taking her eyes off her lover's face. She saw -- WE saw -- the pleasure she was giving him. It was breathtaking for him, for her, and for me. I watched them fuck for a while -- actually, I watched her fuck him for a while -- then I worked up the courage to ask, quietly, if it would be all right for me to watch from the foot of the bed. Sally gave another few strokes to Ted's embedded penis, then said, "Sure." I got up from the floor, never pausing in my masturbation. I walked around the bed and stood at the bottom, looking at Ted's outstretched legs and Sally's legs spread around them. I actually saw their sex: Ted's hard, glistening cock being caressed -- no, FUCKED -- by Sally's pussy. I saw her pussy lips distending outward with each rise of her hips, and I saw his cock disappear completely into her insides each time she forced her hips down onto him. As I widened my gaze I saw my wife -- my naked, fucking wife -- moving her body back and forth, side to side, clenching and releasing her muscles, using every part of her body to FUCK Ted. It was obscene, sexy, dirty, exciting, humiliating, pornographic and amazing, all at the same time. "Sally, you look so amazingly beautiful, I can't even find words to describe you," I said. "From that position?" she asked, never pausing as she fucked her lover. What could I say? How could I tell her that yes, from that position, she looked as beautiful as I've ever seen her? I knew she let me watch because she loved me, and because she knew it would hurt me to see her feeling so good with Ted inside her. Over his groans I answered with complete honesty, "Yes, my love. You look SO beautiful." A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 26 I don't know how long they fucked like that, but every moment is burned into my memory. Finally they stopped, and Ted gently rolled my wife off him. He reached for her vibrator and as he did he said, "I think your wife wants to cum again, so it's time for you to leave us alone." I couldn't argue. I wouldn't argue, even if I could. I was so honored to have spent time with them -- with THEM, the two of them together -- that I must have said "thank you" a dozen times as I left the room and closed the door behind me. It took Sally longer to cum this time, but I knew she was in good hands... literally. I heard him whispering to her, and I knew he was doing everything he could to give her the pleasure she never felt with me. When she came it was harder, longer and even louder than the first time, and I actually did cry a little as I listened and masturbated alone outside the door. They spent another two hours together, in bed and having lunch and then in bed again. Ted fucked her again and he brought her to another orgasm, but I had no part in those other than to listen. But it didn't matter; they had made time for me. They had invited me into their bedroom and had made it clear that they knew I was there, and that I was being cuckolded. I still haven't stopped thanking each of them. * Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 27 April 2013 LITEROTICA READERS, *PLEASE* READ THIS: I've posted more than two dozen chapters of this Cuckold's Diary on Literotica. Each time I begin by telling you that this story is about CUCKOLDING and about MASOCHISM. It is also about a very Loving Wife, who makes every fantasy of mine come true. But no matter how I phrase it, people still write to me and tell me how SHOCKED they are that I wrote about cuckolding and masochism. Tell you the truth, it doesn't bother me. It just makes me wonder why people hate themselves so much that they read page after page (I write long chapters!) of stuff they clearly can't stand. So if you read this chapter, which is REALLY about cuckolding and masochism, and it upsets you, feel free to write and tell me. Then be sure to give my story a terrible rating, so others won't have to read the garbage that you read all 12 pages of :-) Sincerely Cuckold Paul *A Masochist's Motto: Just because it hurts, doesn't mean it's not exciting. And just because it's exciting doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt.* Forward: We've celebrated some pretty major anniversaries recently. Last month, our 30th wedding anniversary. This month, Sally's 15th anniversary with her lover, Ted. Yes, folks, my wife has been cuckolding me for half of our married life, and it has been the most amazing experience for each of us. Our anniversary was wonderful. From dinner with our friends to the champagne and strawberries sent by my sister and brother, everything was great. Even our once-a-year mercy fuck was terrific: romantic, loving and amazing sex for me, and... romantic and loving for her. Seriously, we made love -- which we do all year long, but this time actually involved sex. I've seen Sally with Ted enough to know when she is turned on, so it was obvious -- but completely unspoken -- that the sex was a gift from her to me, not something for our mutual pleasure. When I was inside her she told me to remember that Ted gets to feel this whenever he wants, and when I was about to cum she said, "This is all you get for a year. Enjoy it." I somehow managed to hold off long enough to ask her if that was what SHE wanted -- to wait another year before letting me inside her again -- and she said, "Oh, yes. It's definitely what I want." That experience, coupled with their last date, brought me to write this. Dear Diary, This chapter will be a little different. Yes, I always wrote to help me articulate my feelings as a cuckold by describing what Sally does on her dates with Ted, but this time I actually want to focus on the feelings. It's still hard for Sally to hear me talk about myself this way, although she's warmed up to it recently beyond anything I ever would have expected. She even got herself off twice while I told her how much she hurt me on her last date! But just as Good Girl has a hard time integrating all the things that Bad Girl does with her lover, Good Girl also can't come to grips with how hard her masochist husband likes/needs to be hurt. And yet, when she's with HIM, she does a hell of a job of hurting me - not just incidentally as she did in the early years, but with purpose and intent. It's fucking exciting as hell - and yeah, it also hurts like hell. AND it's exciting as hell. And it hurts like hell. And... So today I'm going to tell you about this morning, when she and Ted had a date and they excited me and hurt me, and hurt me and excited me. Damn, I'm fucked up... but happy :-) There are times during their dates when Sally looks at me and remarks how I look like a sad little puppy. I've noticed that it doesn't stop her from having fun with him, and I'm really glad of that! But I feel SO much sadder, and so much littler, than a sad little puppy when she is on a date with Ted. This isn't going to be pretty, because what I experience isn't pretty. But if Sally reads this I really hope that she won't feel bad about anything she reads, because I don't want her to feel bad - ever. Ted keeps reminding us that we all have to have our needs met for this strange, wonderful relationship to keep working, and what I will describe is how my wife and her lover help to meet my needs when she fucks him. Before I get into the shame, pain and humiliation I have to start with love. I am SO in love with my wife! There are more reasons than I could write in an entire diary, so right now I'll concentrate on the fact that 15 years ago Sally took a huge risk, trusting me and trusting Ted. She changed our lives the first time she kissed him, and rocked his world, too. I am also so grateful to Ted for being such an extraordinary gentleman and friend to both of us, who incidentally takes my wife to bed and gives her pleasure she never knew existed before she met him. And I'm grateful to both of them for allowing me to share the parts of their dates that I get to share, and for telling me when it's time for me to leave them alone. I've never felt as bad, or as excited, as I do when they are together. So, diary, it's time for me to tell you how my wife and her lover make me feel. From the beginning: when Sally and Ted pick a date, they TELL me. They don't ask me to reserve the hotel room; they know it is my job. I sometimes think of what they would say if I asked them if they wanted me to reserve the room; I imagine they'd look at me with complete surprise: "We said we made a date, so OF COURSE we need you to make the reservation. Why else would we have told you?" So I reserve a hotel room for their date, reminding myself that they need a hotel room because their date requires privacy -- and a bed. And I always reserve a suite because their date also requires privacy from ME. I make sure they have a place where they can be in bed together and where they can be alone together, shielded from the outside world and shielded from me. I make the reservation online, and just before I hit the "send" button I look at what I have done and realize what a loser I am. I am reserving a place for my wife and her lover to fuck. During the week before their dates Sally asks me to put moisturizing cream on her legs, to make them soft for Ted. Sometimes she says, "think of these legs wrapped around Ted" while I do it. Other times she watches TV or reads and doesn't say a word. Occasionally she is naked when I do it, and I have the honor and thrill of seeing her pussy. Other times she just pulls up the legs of her pajamas, shielding her intimate place from my prying eyes. I learned long ago that I can't ask her to let me see, because I have no claim on her pussy at all. With the exception of that once-a-year mercy fuck it is off limits to me... but never to him. So I put moisturizer on her legs so they will be smooth when she is fucking her lover. It's the most I ever touch her skin, and the closest I get to sex with her all year. It hurts SO much to do that, but I try not to distract her with my feelings. That's why I always go downstairs after I'm done... to masturbate, and sometimes to cry over what I am, what I've lost, and how much it hurts. (Yeah, sometimes I cry. Sorry. More about that in a little while.) Ted was arriving at 9am today, so last night after we finished work I drove Sally to the hotel. We talked about work, about the kids, about her new, very cool car -- we talked about everything except the fact that I was driving her to a date with her lover. At one point I said, "Everything that happens for the next 24 hours hurts and humiliates me," and she said she knew. But she said no more. I remembered what she taught me years ago, which has helped me be a better cuckold and has actually helped me a lot in life: "It's not always about YOU." So I sat in my shame as we listened to the radio and drove to Pennsylvania. It had been a long day for both of us, so when we got to the hotel Sally took a bath then put on her "Victoria's Grandmother" nightgown. Nothing sexy at all about it, but I couldn't help seeing the red velour pajamas she had packed for today - for HIM. I got her settled in bed, she said she was tired but looking forward to her date, and that was it. I told her I was going into the living room and she said, "Think about me" because she knew I was going to masturbate. Diary, it's been six and a half years since Sally asked if we could stop having sex and I'm still shocked - and hurt - by how happy she is that I said yes. She doesn't care how much I jerk off as long as I don't do it in front of her, and I detect a trace of gratitude when I tell her I'm going off to do it by myself. I went into the living room, pulled down my pants and began the night-before-her-date ritual. You know, the one where I sit on the couch and tell myself what we're here for and what is going to happen in this room - and in the bedroom - in the morning. "I brought my wife here - MY WIFE - to have a date with TED. They are going to take off their clothes and go to bed together, touching, kissing, sucking, stroking and FUCKING each other while I sit outside the door and play with myself. I am SUCH A LOSER." That goes on in my mind until I'm so close to cumming that I just have to stop; if it hasn't been at least three days since I have cum I can't handle the cuckolding, so I make very sure not to slip over the edge. I did one time years ago and won't make that mistake again. When I had beaten myself up (and off) as much as I could endure I pulled up my pants and joined Sally in bed. Seeing her sitting up in bed reading, I was overwhelmed with a brain-scrambling mix of emotions. I love her so much and I love that she loves me. When I kissed her I looked into her beautiful eyes and saw the reflection of that love. But at the same time I knew that in a few hours Ted would be in my place, looking into her eyes from kissing distance. SHE knew it, too. She knew that in the morning she would cuckold me, giving Ted what used to be mine and no longer is. I didn't know whether to kiss her harder or run away in shame, but she kept kissing me so I did the same. Of course, our kisses were... well, they were OUR kisses: deeply loving and completely non-sexual at the same time. Yes, Ted would kiss her tomorrow, but he would get kisses intended to excite him. I slept fitfully, as usual on those pre-date nights. Every time I drifted off I was startled awake by the thought that Ted was coming here in the morning to fuck my wife IN THIS BED. Fuck her. FUCK! My morning preparation for cuckolding is ritual by now, too. I wake up early, shower and dress without waking Sally, and go downstairs to have breakfast by myself. I look at all the businesspeople having breakfast with me, some already talking business with the others at their table, others tapping away furiously on their laptops. A night on the road: part of the job. And I remember that I am doing my job, too - preparing everything for my wife's date with her lover. Ted often compliments me on how well I do my job, and when he does I beam with pride and wither with shame at the same time. He says it with such genuine sincerity that it's hard not to be proud, until I remember that he's complimenting me on how well I prepare everything for him to fuck my wife. Then my pride vanishes and I am properly ashamed. At 8 am I went up to the room carrying Sally's breakfast. I come into the bedroom quietly, put down the tray and touch her shoulder. I whisper, "It's time to get ready for your date, my love. He's on his way here to see you." I've done this for 15 years and it is still one of the most difficult things I ever say. The next hour is one of powerful, painful, unspoken humiliation. I clean up the bedroom like a maid. I make the bed so it's pristine for my wife and her lover, and I turn down the covers on the side near the door; that was Ted's request years ago when he asked me to make it easy for them to get in bed. I've done it ever since. When Sally is finished in the shower she stands naked and calls me in to inspect her breasts, to make sure there are no stray hairs. I still don't understand how she doesn't laugh out loud at me when I do this (sometimes I wish she would, as it would validate my own judgment of myself), because I - her husband - bend down and closely inspect each breast to make sure they are perfectly prepared for HIM. This is something she expects me to do for her, and of course I do it. But the shame of preparing my wife's naked breasts for another man's view and touch is only surpassed by knowing that my wife watches me do it. I feel like a complete failure as a man, and I imagine she feels that way about me at that moment, too. A complete failure as a man, preparing his wife for someone who IS a man. A loser who is about to witness it as I lose even more. Again. A man is coming to meet us in our hotel room, and my wife puts on pajamas - the red velour ones I saw the night before. I bought them at her request from the PajamaGram company; long pants and a tank top. She slips her red robe over them, finishes applying her makeup and asks me how she looks. I answer, truthfully, that she looks beautiful, and she beams. We both know it's for him. As she sits down in the living room, Ted texts me. The screen says, "ETA 5 minutes. Room #?" But what I read is, "I'll be there in five minutes to fuck your wife. Tell me where to find her." I tell Sally he's five minutes away, and she smiles. When my wife's lover knocks on the door, I let him in. As always he ignores me and makes a beeline for his girlfriend. They kiss in front of me with no hesitation and no shame. As Ted often reminds me, I am a non-person to them. After standing quietly while they kiss hello, I ask if they would like me to get them coffee from the lobby. They both say yes; I already know how each of them likes it prepared. As I start to walk out, Sally points out to Ted that I brought a banana from home for him; I know he always asks me to see if there is one at the continental breakfast, but there seldom is. I was proud of myself for remembering to pack it for him and I can't believe how ashamed of myself I am for doing it - and for being proud of it. When I bring the coffee, Sally asks (tells, actually) me to put moisturizing cream on her legs while she sits with Ted. I bend over to apply it but Sally says, "Get on the floor to do that." I hesitate and she whispers, "I want him to see you on the floor." So while my wife and her lover talk, kiss and touch each other, I kneel on the floor in front of her and made her legs soft for him. I actually did that. They talked for a long time, and I saw my wife getting hornier and hornier. She put her feet in his lap and began drawing her toes along his pants, outlining his cock. Then she sat up, slid her robe off her shoulders and said to Ted, "Why don't you show him what he's missing?" With a smile, then a kiss, he pulled the pajama strap off her shoulder and continued to pull it downward until my wife's right breast was exposed - all the way to her very hard nipple. Ted gasped in appreciation and immediately bent over to take her nipple in his mouth. Sally looked at me silently; nothing more needed to be said for everyone to acknowledge what was happening. She wanted to be sure I saw her hurting me. I did. I still do. As soon as Ted stopped sucking Sally's nipple, his hand replaced his mouth. I sat there like a fool, watching silently as he kissed my wife and felt her up. Within a minute he said, "Those pajamas are very beautiful, but they'll look even better on the floor." "We can arrange that," she replied, and got to her feet. Without a word to me, Ted and my wife -- with her breast still exposed -- walked to the bedroom together. I heard the door click shut, and I was alone. All alone. Sally was no more than 10 feet from me, but it might just as well have been 10 miles; she was with HIM, not me. I barely had time to start feeling bad when I heard the door open and saw Sally walking toward me. Her breast was still exposed, but she didn't seem to notice as she walked right up to me and kissed me. It was a deep, intensely passionate kiss, which rocked my world and gave me an instant erection. But we both knew it wasn't foreplay, because it wasn't for me. It was the kiss my wife shares with me to show me how excited she is about fucking HIM. It was the moment that I got to meet the Bad Girl who goes to bed with Ted every chance she gets, and does it right in front of her husband. As she broke off the kiss and turned to walk back to the bedroom -- back to HIM -- I croaked out, "thank you." Without turning around or even breaking her stride she said, "Thank Ted. It was his suggestion." "Thank you, Ted," was the last thing I got out before the door clicked closed again. And then it hit me: When Ted took my wife to bed he apparently mentioned that she hadn't kissed me goodbye as she usually does, and he suggested she should go do that. So my wife, getting ready to fuck him, took his advice and came out to give me a taste -- literally -- of what she was about to give him. Her tit still sticking out, her pussy already wet for him, she came to kiss me... goodbye. Or more accurately, "Goodbye, loser." Now Diary, I know some people doubt that I'm telling the truth with what I write. I don't argue with them, because there is no way I am going to prove it while preserving our privacy, and I won't compromise on that. But I know that I am relating actual events, and I keep trying to communicate how it feels when my loving wife does things like that to me. The door clicked shut, my mind went through all the above, and only 20 seconds had elapsed. I tore off my clothes, grabbed a chair from the dining table and sat down outside THEIR bedroom door. I had placed the Vaseline there earlier in the morning, so I was ready to masturbate as my wife cuckolded me. But she cuckolded me so hard. Ted made love to my wife for a long time. For more than 20 minutes he held her, kissed her, touched her, sucked her, caressed her, whispered in her ear and drove her wild. I didn't see any of it; I sat outside the closed bedroom door and listened. I couldn't tell exactly what was happening, but I knew WHAT was happening because I was sitting outside their bedroom and listening. I heard my wife's whimpers of pleasure: sounds she never makes, and really never made, with me. Twenty minutes is a long time to stare at a door. And it's a long time to be ignored by my wife while she is in bed with another man. Time enough to think, over and over again, "It would be SO great if she called me in now, to watch what they are doing," and to be disappointed over and over again as the whimpers continued. Time to remember her telling me, "We don't think about you at all when we cum." Time to remember what she said to me last month, the day before our anniversary: "I'm sorry. I love you, but I love sex with HIM." And more than enough time to remember, as I sat there and rubbed my penis, feeling hurt and excluded and pitiful and alone, what Sally's been telling me for years: "It's not always about YOU." No, it's not about me. Certainly not when I'm alone outside THEIR door it's not. It's about them. That's why we are here: so they can have a date together, have sex together, hang out together in bed and enjoy each other. That's what is happening now: they are enjoying each other. I can hear my wife enjoying Ted, and enjoying herself. That's not so terrible, is it? She's enjoying herself. And enjoying herself. And 15 minutes later, still enjoying herself. I'm such a fucking loser. A sexual loser. Not only is my wife fucking another man -- I made all the arrangements for it, I ran the errands and now I'm straining to hear the sounds of sex through the door. I'm jerking off, but that's all I ever get. She wants him. And now that she's with him, I am the last thing on her mind. And it goes on and on and on. I spend the last five minutes on the verge of tears. Still hard, still masturbating, but nearly crying as I see who I really am. And knowing that THEY -- the loving, happy, excited couple -- see me that way, too, when they notice me at all. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 27 Sally came. A deep, guttural moan followed by silence, and the sound of her body bouncing up and down on the bed. I felt it through the floor, and thought about this being the only way I feel my wife cumming. "We don't think about you at all when we cum," she said, and I believe her. I believed her as I sat there and listened to my wife orgasming in her lover's arms. I knew it was true: right then, my wife's world encompassed her own cumming body and her lover's warm, excited body molding itself to her. The problem with language is that it is linear; we describe one thing and then another. But listening to -- and feeling -- my wife orgasm flooded my brain with thoughts that reverberated like a dozen of those crazy bouncing balls in a small room. Naked touching skin Pleasure release trust excitement Bouncing tits spasms rolling eyes Grunting kissing sucking nipples intimacy orgasm Infidelity my wife I love sex with him fool loser I felt like an ocean crashed over me. I worked to keep from cumming, to keep from calling out or groaning too loudly, to keep from crying. My wife CAME in his arms, and I just sat there rubbing myself while I stared at their bedroom door. How pathetic. And real. It's her, it's him -- it's me. They are in there, and I'm out here -- alone. In less time than it took you to read this, Sally was fucking Ted. Oh, I was still shut out of their room, but I could tell. I heard the sheets rustle, I heard my wife suck in her breath the way she does when a cock -- HIS cock -- enters her, and I heard him let out a groan of pleasure. I tried to picture them: I didn't know what position they were fucking in (wow -- what kind of loser writes a sentence like that?), but I knew that Ted's penis was in my wife's vagina. I knew it, but I really had no idea. I was about to find out. "Paul, come in," he called out to me. I opened their door and saw... THEM. Sally, my loving and beloved wife, was kneeling on top of Ted. She was absolutely, completely naked. Her naked breasts -- both of them, not just one like she had him show me -- were pointing toward her lover's eyes. He, was naked, too. The only thing he was wearing was... my wife. She was fucking him. With her legs spread around his hips I saw her body move, and clench, and release, and grind and swirl on his cock. I didn't know where to look first: at my wife's face, staring at her lover and whispering to him to cum in her, or at her hips, dancing the most obscene, sensual sex dance I had ever seen. Or at his face, twisted in pleasure and grunting out sex noises. I stood there for a few minutes, watching my wife and her lover. Then I knew I just had to see. I didn't even stop to think of how I was about to debase myself; how I would shame myself beyond even my own belief. I walked quietly to the foot of the bed, and leaned in close. Again, I have to choose an order to tell you that I saw Ted's cock sliding in and out of Sally's pussy. Do I first mention my wife's pussy, shining with the wetness that her body never produced for me? Do I talk about how her lips formed a perfect O, wrapping itself around HIM and caressing him? Do I talk about his erection, his sex organ so hard it looked like the veins were going to pop out? Do I talk about the noises he made which corresponded to every one of Sally's squeezes? It all happened at the exact same time. I saw sex. Sex. Cock in pussy, penis in vagina, intercourse, fucking, cowgirl, her pussy lips clinging to his shaft as she raised up on him, their soaked pubic hairs following the flow of her hips up and down, his spasms as she worked her magic on his body. I saw it all. And I wasn't part of any of it. Then Ted said the most overwhelming thing he has ever said to me. In between grunts of pleasure he looked down at me by the bottom of the bed and said, "I want you to watch your wife make me cum." Later, I asked him why he called me in to show me that. He said right away that he loved seeing my wife fucking him and he thought it would be the most humiliating thing he could do to me. I agreed that it was, and I asked if he enjoyed it. "Actually, I DID. Sally fucked me SO well, and knowing you were going to stand there and watch her draw my cum out of me just seemed SO hot." I asked if my presence was a distraction. "Absolutely not. You don't matter to us." I watched my wife make her lover cum... in her. When Ted spoke to me I instinctively got up and moved toward the side of the bed again, so as the shock of his words reverberated through my brain (and cock!), I saw that he was now holding my wife's tits in his hands. One breast, one nipple, in each of HIS hands. Her hips started to buck, then draw forward slowly; then buck again, then slowly forward. It was true: he was lying still, or as still as he could manage with waves of pleasure pounding through him. It was Sally -- my wife -- who was doing all the fucking. He wanted me to stand there and watch as my wife fucked him. Loser that I am, I did. It sure sounded like it felt good. I had just made my way back to the foot of the bed when his orgasm hit him. His breathing escalated into pants and he began to whimper, faster and faster until his AAAAGHH! marked his climax. His body shook and spasmed, but my wife held his cock firmly in her pussy and continued to stroke him as he came. I actually saw his penis contract as he ejaculated, when my wife drove him over the edge and made him orgasm and squirt his cum in her. Ted was right: nothing could be more humiliating for me than to stand there, impotently rubbing my penis while my wife fucked him and made him cum right before my eyes. Even now, thinking back on what I saw, I can't believe how I behaved. No protest, no dragging my wife off the other man and reclaiming her. I just stood there and watched my wife fuck him and bring him to orgasm inside her. Even after he came, she kept fucking him. Adding his semen to her lubrication produced a squishing noise every time she moved her hips to pull him deeper inside her. I stood there and listened to the mixture of their body fluids until Sally said, "I love our juices together." He shuddered again, and so did I. Finally she lifted her leg and slid off him, lying down beside him and wrapping her arm around his chest. His cock was still hard, and as she kissed her lover and caressed his body, his erection was the final blow to my remaining ego. HE was the man today, not me. She is always the woman, but she didn't even know what that meant until she met him and he showed her how a woman feels when she's in bed with a MAN. My wife's lover called me into the bedroom to show me how my wife fucks him -- and only him. He wanted me to see his cock in her pussy... inside her body. He wanted me to see him cum in my wife. He wanted me to see how my wife was so focused on fucking him that she didn't care -- or even notice -- that her husband was watching her cuckold him. I stared at his still-erect penis until Sally waved me out of the room. I was irrelevant. And I was ashamed. I still am. I closed the door behind me, and sat down in my place again. It was quiet for a while -- soft talking, gentle movements, the sounds of lovers enjoying each other's company. Then the door opened and my naked wife came out to go to the bathroom. Naked. Completely unashamed of what she had just done, and what she was doing. I LOVE seeing Sally naked, but seeing her there, seeing her when she is his, is not easy. She quickly made her way to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. I turned back toward the bedroom and there was Ted -- also completely naked -- lying exposed on the bed, grinning at me. "Well, did you like the show?" he asked. "It was overwhelming. It was so exciting, but so humiliating. Thank you for letting me see you fucking my wife." "No, what you saw was your wife fucking ME," he said. "She's SO good at it, isn't she? The way she rides me, the way she uses her pussy to coax my orgasm out of me... amazing, and she just keeps getting better!" He was casually stroking his cock as he talked. I stood there at the bedroom door, masturbating furiously as my wife's lover talked about how great she is at sex. Years ago I found it too embarrassing to keep masturbating while he told me about fucking her, but I gave up on having any dignity a long time ago. He knows I'm a loser, so what else do I have to lose? I stood stroking and grunting as he lay in THEIR bed, his cock soft because he just came in my wife, discussing my cuckolding with me. He didn't actually laugh at me, but it felt like he did. I know what *I* thought of myself; I wondered what he thought of me. It couldn't be pretty. The bathroom door opened and Sally stood at the sink. She washed her hands and asked me how I was doing. I thought about that question then, and I still do: "Hi, I'm taking a break from sex with my lover and I just want to see how you're doing. You're okay, right?" I said I was fine, and I asked if she was having a good time. "I'm having a WONDERFUL time. Can't you tell?" and with that she headed back to him. She went to close the door, but Ted suggested she leave it open. She shrugged and climbed back into the bed. THEIR bed. She laid down facing me, and Ted moved closer and spooned her. His right arm immediately draped over her body and he began caressing her tits. Her tits. MY WIFE'S tits! His hand fell to her naked skin as if it belonged there. He cuddled even closer as he felt her up in front of me, and I felt like a knife was being shoved into my guts. But I just stood there and watched him caress my wife's breasts because... fuck, because I'm pathetic. "So Paul tells me this is our 15th anniversary," he said to her. "I know. Happy anniversary," she responded, and turned her head to kiss him. "Fifteen years since you found out he doesn't know how to fuck," he added with just a hint of a smirk, and with genuine sympathy for her. "Oh no, I knew LONG before that," she shot back. "But 15 years ago I found someone who could." He smiled, held her tighter and kissed her again. They made small talk together, as if I wasn't there. But we all knew I WAS there, and by showing me their intimacy they understood that they were giving me what I needed from the day: to be humiliated and hurt. They humiliated me and they hurt me. I don't know how long I stood there masturbating as my wife and her lover cuddled together, naked body touching naked body. Eventually, Sally turned around and faced him, throwing her leg over his and giving me a perfect view of her spread legs and the gift in between them which she gives only to Ted. Her hand reached for his cock. She kissed him, passionately and deeply. She stroked him. And then, with her free hand, she waved at me to leave the room. It was time for them to be alone together again. My naked wife and her naked man. Yeah, I closed the door behind me, sat on the chair, jerked off as I listened at the door, all that stuff. But something was different. What they had done had really affected me, touching deeper in my submissive core than I thought possible. I sat there and heard my wife start to sigh, and I began saying all the things I've written here about myself. She sighed again, groaned a little and I began to recite to myself: Loser Pathetic Inadequate Irrelevant Non-person Cuckold She groaned louder now, but didn't cum right away. In fact her noises just kept increasing in intensity and, for lack of a better word, depth. "This is why we are here," I said to myself. And again I remembered her words: "I'm sorry. I love you, but I love sex with HIM." That's when I cried. Not a loud, sobbing cry; I was too self-conscious (and too excited) to do that. But the feeling of being cuckolded, RIGHT NOW, RIGHT HERE overwhelmed me. My stomach seemed to collapse on itself and the tears just started to flow. I'm sorry to write this, but it excited me so much I can't stand it. My wife -- my wonderful, loving wife -- kicked me out of the bedroom so she could enjoy her lover. Again. It went on and on and on. Ted whispering in Sally's ear, so softly that I couldn't make out a single word. Sally moaning. Sheets rustling. The occasional hum of her vibrator as she moved it around on her clit. She was having SUCH a good time. So I kept masturbating, kept myself from cumming, and kept crying. Then she came. As I listened to the sounds of my wife's pleasure, and the sounds of her lover's excitement as my wife came in his arms, I remembered, "We don't think about you at all when we cum." As I stared at the closed door, jerking off as I listened to my wife climax, her loving guidance came back to me: "It's not always about you." Oh. Right. It's about THEM. THEY are why we are here. I'm such a loser. Ted had an early appointment, so he left soon after they finished cuddling. Sally got up, thanked me for giving her such a wonderful gift, and went to take a shower. I turned on the lights in the bedroom and began cleaning up: collecting her pajamas, putting the cap back on the KY Intense and packing her well-used vibrator. Every time I turned around I saw the bed which looked and smelled like sex. Sally came out of the shower and walked up to me, giving me a big, naked hug. It was loving and, in a way, passionate, but we both knew it was not about sex. At least, not about US having sex. We packed up and drove home, Ted's sperm swimming inside her womb and me horny and broken and excited and ashamed and hot and hurt. At home Sally went to attend to some work and I went to my home office, where I sat and masturbated and replayed the events of the day and came. But neither the excitement nor the pain have left me since then, and I had to write it down; my way of saying it out loud. I'm jerking off five times a day and no number of orgasms has diminished the power of what I experienced. I'm not at all proud of what I am, but I'm grateful beyond words that my wife accepts me and loves me for me. Each of us -- each of the THREE of us -- has found a place that works, that fits. They make each other feel good, and they make me feel bad. A Masochist's Motto: Just because it hurts, doesn't mean it's not exciting. And just because it's exciting doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt. Thanks for listening. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 28 Chapter 28 -- "Organic Cuckolding" July 2013 ONCE AGAIN, I begin with a note to Literotica readers: This is a story about CUCKOLDING. Honest, it is. I wouldn't lie to you. So if you read it - all 10 pages of it - and then feel the need to be insulted, aghast, upset or outraged, that's your choice. But don't say I didn't warn you! For everyone else... enjoy, because all three of us sure did. * "ORGANIC: forming an integral element of a whole" For those of you who have had the interest and patience to follow my Diary over the years, you know that Sally, Ted and I have explored some of the deepest recesses of cuckolding. So many steps have been surprising, and none more surprising than how my loving wife has taken to having a lover. I refer you back to the earlier chapters if you're not familiar with our journey. There have been several places along the way where I thought I had written the last chapter, not because Sally and Ted ended their relationship, but because I don't want to write the same thing over and over. Each of their dates has been wonderful for them and overwhelmingly powerful to me, but I have resisted the temptation to write "he fucked her again!" every time he fucked her again. Certain moments, however, have led me to continue writing -- both because they seem worth sharing, and because writing helps me to process what has just happened in our lives. This is one such tale. To begin, I have to go back a few months. After Sally and Ted's date in April, which I wrote about in Chapter 39, I realized that I was pushing too hard for them to share with me what they were doing together. Yes, I was excited when they closed the door on me so they could have sex together in private, but I wanted to see -- I NEEDED to see -- what they were doing. I didn't ask... well, I didn't ALWAYS ask, but from time to time I did "mention" to one or the other of them that it would mean a lot to me if I could see part of their lovemaking. They were always open to my suggestions, and did their best to accommodate my desires while not taking too much away from their time together. I knew I was being a pain, but something in me needed to have my role as a cuckold affirmed by them as they cuckolded me. If you're not a cuckold this will sound completely absurd, but I felt bad to keep asking them to make me a part of their lovemaking. So, in early May, I asked each of them for a favor -- a gift. I asked if I could take a video of their lovemaking, from beginning to end. I said it would allow me to "see" any time I wanted, and thereby to be able to leave them alone (or at least not bother them so much) when they were together. Sally's first concern was for the safety of the video; as my Good Girl, the very thought of it getting out on the Internet worried her tremendously. I assured her that I would store it in an encrypted file, and that no one would be able to see it even if they gained access to my computer. She said she would think about it. One night, as we were watching one of the many episodes of NCIS she has recorded, she asked me if Gibbs would be able to find the videos if he got on my computer. I looked at her and said yes, he would, but no one short of NCIS could do that. She appreciated my honesty, and so a minute later I took a chance and said, "But the idea of Gibbs seeing you fucking Ted turns you on just a little, doesn't it?" She blushed, but didn't say no. A few days later she brought up the video again. She asked me if I planned to be the director, telling them what to do. I said absolutely not; I wanted to stand there silently and record what they shared, without saying a word unless they spoke to me. I think she was surprised by my answer, because just a short while later she said, "If it's okay with Ted, I guess I'm okay with it, too." It was fine with Ted. He knows I wouldn't do anything to hurt him, and that I know enough about computers to make that happen. He also knows that, within limits, giving me what I need allows him complete access to my wife's body. I thought I was going to make a video of them fucking for me, but I was wrong. Instead, they let me see and video what they share, and what they let me see changed everything. Instead of a performance for my benefit, I saw a woman and a man making love. I saw each of them so concerned for their partner's pleasure, so tied up in each other's body that it made my head spin. I saw a man who really knows how to turn a woman on, turn my wife on. And I saw my wife -- my loving wife -- give herself to her lover, using her body and her mind to make him feel as good as a man can possibly feel. While the video was not about me, there were times where each of them shared their feelings with me. When Sally dove for Ted's cock, as he tells me she always does, she looked directly at me. Right now I am staring at a video cap from that movie, with my wife's mouth filled with Ted's penis, her naked body lying against his, and her beautiful, hazel-colored eyes staring at me and burning a hole in my soul. Another picture shows him with his eyes closed, his mouth open, his body clenching as she takes his whole cock into her mouth... and again, she is staring at me. What the pictures don't show, but the video does, is her pausing her blowjob to say to me, "You could have this the other 364 days a year, but I don't want to," followed by her licking the head of his cock and making him shudder with pleasure. She got on top of him, guided his cock into her pussy, and I recorded the deep, guttural moan he made as she sat down on him and forced his erection deep inside her. I actually have a movie of her fucking him -- of his cock going in and out of her as she tightened and relaxed her pussy muscles around his sex organ. I moved to the side of the bed and recorded their fucking as Ted held my wife's tits in his hands, moaning and groaning as she fucked him, not me. At one point he turned to me and said, "You have no idea how good this feels," and he was right. And when, a few minutes later, he looked at me again and laughed, "your hands are shaking!", Sally looked over at me and laughed along with him. I stood there, shaking, and continued recording the scene as Sally and Ted fucked... and laughed at me. When Sally laid beside him and started up her Pocket Rocket, Ted made love to my wife. Honestly, it wasn't just sex, it was lovemaking. I saw him kiss her, caress her, explore and stimulate her in ways I know I have never done, and even as I made the recording I saw why she wants to fuck him and not me. It took her a long time to cum, but he never grew tired of touching her, never gave the slightest hint that he was frustrated or bored. When she said she was sorry for taking so long he responded, "I know you're feeling good, and that's all that matters." He meant it; she knew it, and I knew it, too. Finally she said, "Here it comes." He sucked her right nipple, squeezed and pinched her left nipple, and held her as she lost control of her body and came. He kept her nipple in his mouth as she thrashed around the bed, and only changed position enough to be able to look at her O-face as she gave him what he calls "her most intimate gift to me." As I watched, and as I've watched the video over and over, I remembered what she told me: "We don't think about you at all when we cum." It was obvious she told the truth. Her eyes rolled back in her head -- I have a vid cap of her eyes open, showing only white as her pupils disappeared completely into her head -- and when she let her breath out with a gasp she turned to him and kissed him. Even then, he didn't stop making love to her. Right after cumming she said she wanted him inside her, to feel her "aftershocks" from inside (he hadn't cum yet), but he said no, there would be time for that. "Now I want you to enjoy the ride," he said, as he continued to make love to her, wrapping his arms around her and sliding his hand down to cup her ass cheek. When his fingers slipped into the crack of my wife's ass, she spasmed again; he kissed her, held her and said, "thank you for giving that to me." Finally, when her orgasm was truly finished, she gave herself to Ted for HIS pleasure. She kissed him, caressed him, sucked his cock and sucked his nipples until he was crazed with lust. He got on top of her and pushed his cock into her pussy -- I have a movie of that, so I know it really happened. I captured his cock sliding in and out of my wife, her pussy forming a big O around his shaft. Then I moved to beside the bed and watched how my wife fucks her lover. I saw her look into his eyes, caress his arms and his stomach, and move her hips to stimulate his cock in every way possible. "Oh, Sally, I can't tell you how good this feels to me," he said. "Tell HIM," she answered, flicking her eyes in my direction. But he didn't tell me. He just kept fucking my wife. "Do you want to try the scissors position?" she asked. "No, I want to CUM," he said. And he did. Right in front of me, captured on video, Ted fucked her faster and faster, his gasps growing shorter and shorter, until his whole body tensed and he let out a moan/gasp/cry of pleasure as he came in my wife. I watched his body spasm, and knew he was ejaculating into Sally with each contraction of his muscles. I stood there, hands shaking more than ever, and recorded the facts of my cuckolding. When Ted finally slipped out of her and laid down beside her, Sally turned to me and said, "Time for you to leave us alone." Ted quickly added "Bye!" with a smile of pleasure and dominance that left no question about my place... outside the closed bedroom door. They fucked again that day, and I was not included in any of it. They went to bed after lunch, closed the door and spent an hour making love to each other. When Ted finally emerged from the bedroom he was dressed and ready to leave. He told me Sally was sleeping for a while, and I should not disturb her. I sat in the chair in the living room while he gathered his phone and briefcase and told me how wonderful it was to fuck my wife. I sat and masturbated as he talked, and the tone of his voice coupled with what I had seen was just too much: I came right in front of him, squirting my cum on the floor in front of me. That wasn't my intention, and I was ashamed that it happened, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. "What a pity," he said as he headed for the door. "You cum on the floor, while I get to cum in your wife." ------- That day -- and the movie it produced -- changed me. I realized I had spent so long trying to prove to myself that I really was a cuckold, that I didn't notice that I WAS a cuckold! It wasn't a show, it wasn't for my excitement: Sally and Ted are lovers, and I am irrelevant in that part of their lives. I don't share Sally with Ted; I am her husband, and he is her lover. When I look at the video, which I've done just under three million times since I took it, I see that my Good Girl has overcome her extremely inhibited upbringing, and is now a proud, happy cuckoldress. I apologized to them. To each of them. I said I realized how I had still been pushing to "choreograph" their dates, and how I kept waiting for MY part -- for when they would call me in to watch, for when they would make loud noises so I could hear, etc. The video showed me that they are lovers, and that I should be satisfied being cuckolded as I always wanted. I said I would do my best to stay out of their way in the future, and most important, I would completely understand if they did not call me in while they were making love. Sally didn't quite believe me, but I assured her that I was now ready to be excluded, and to take my satisfaction and pleasure from being allowed to prepare her for her dates, get them anything they needed, and sit outside their bedroom door while they made love. My offer was soon put to the test, and I'm pleased (and excited) to say I passed with flying colors. And so did they. And that experience is what led me to write this chapter. Our schedules are easier during the summer, so I suggested we try something different. Instead of going to the hotel late at night and welcoming Ted at 9am, I proposed going in the early afternoon and having him come to his lover around 3:30 in the afternoon. I even suggested that they take a break from sex and go out to dinner, which was VERY well received. That surprised me, because my Good Girl is massively paranoid about anyone discovering our little kink, but apparently her relationship with him and having me there as her "beard" combined to make the thought appealing to her. So for the first time in a long time, Sally dressed for Ted while we were still at home. She chose a sleeveless shirt and a long skirt with a slit nearly its entire length, with a matching, long-sleeve jacket. She looked stunning, and as we drove the long drive to Pennsylvania I stole many glances at my very beautiful wife... and Ted's very beautiful lover. The drive was filled with phone calls and other nonsense that people have to deal with in real life, so I kept my lascivious thoughts to myself. When we got to the hotel our room was not ready, which was really annoying. I wanted to go to the receptionist and explain that my wife needed to be fucked, but instead we simply hung around close enough to let her know that we weren't going away until we had our room. Fortunately, Ted ran a little late, too, so we were able to get into the room a few minutes before he arrived. Sally took that opportunity to fix her makeup, and I used the time to set out her vibrator, her KY Intense, and to fold down the covers on the bed for them. Not much time to focus on the significance of what I was doing, but I took satisfaction in knowing I had prepared everything for them on short notice. When Ted arrived, I opened the door for him as usual. And as usual, he made a beeline for my wife. He kissed her deeply, and didn't stop kissing her as he sat down beside her. They made out for a few minutes, then Sally asked me (told me, actually) to get the moisturizing cream for her legs. When I returned with it I saw Ted's hand tracing the contours of her tits, which he continued to do as Sally lifted her legs onto the coffee table in front of her and nodded toward them. I understood the message, and I immediately began applying the cream to her legs so they would be soft for her lover. As I applied the cream, Ted continued to kiss Sally and feel her up -- first over her shirt, then reaching inside it. She broke the kiss just long enough to say "Wow, I feel so pampered," and then gave her lips back to him. "You ain't seen nothing yet," Ted replied, as his hand slid down between her legs and into the crease of her pussy. For a moment it felt like we were both making love to her, but then I remembered that my time touching her was about to end and his was just beginning. "Let's go have a naked conversation in the bedroom," Ted suggested. Sally nearly jumped to her feet and started toward the bedroom. Then she stopped, walked directly up to me, and gave me the most powerful, sexual kiss I had felt in a long time; it literally took my breath away. "I'm going to fuck Ted until he cums in me," she said. Before I could catch my breath or process what my Good Girl had just said, she and her lover disappeared around the corner and into the bedroom. I heard the door click shut, and I was alone, her words ringing in my ears: my wife -- MY WIFE -- just told me that SHE was going to FUCK TED until he CAME IN her. Yes, I am a cuckold. Not only is my wife DOING all of that, but she TOLD ME SHE WAS GOING TO DO ALL OF THAT. I sat there and understood that neither of them had the least concern that I would do something assertive like stopping them, and that Sally said that to me to make sure I understood exactly what she was about to do, and what that made me. She had never said anything like that to me before, and it really, really hurt. It also felt really, really good to know that she understood what I am, and accepted it. The strange calm that followed can only be described as "wow, she thinks as badly of me as I do." Apparently they took me at my word that I could accept their being together without me, because for the next hour and a half they did just that. Through the door I heard clothes being removed; I heard kissing; I heard moaning which can only originate in a man's or a woman's sex. I didn't know what was happening, but I knew WHAT was happening. I sat outside the door and rubbed my penis while Sally and Ted made love. I can't say that I never wished they would call me to come in, but when they didn't, I was okay with it. I listened to them and told myself that this is why we came here: so my wife and her lover could be together in private. I heard Sally's vibrator start up, and in a surprisingly short time I heard her cum: a deep, powerful orgasm which shook the bed and the floor, and which was accompanied by Ted's own sounds of excitement. I remembered how much HE gets off on getting her off, and I took painful satisfaction in knowing that they were both enjoying their date -- without me. I say "satisfaction" because it was great to hear my wife feeling such intense pleasure. And "painful" because I knew that I've never made Sally feel that way. Ever. Not long after Sally came, I heard Ted cum, too. I heard the rhythmic bouncing of the bed which anyone who is not a virgin knows to be fucking, and now I heard both of them enjoying Ted's pleasure. His panting increased, just as it had in the video, and he came in my wife as her cuckold husband sat and listened outside the door. He came a long time. And it sounded like it felt really, really good. They talked quietly for a while, and again my hopes that they would call me in, at least to talk, were dashed. No chance; they were together and enjoying the fact that they didn't need to worry about me. I was surprised when I heard Sally's vibe start up again, but I was more pleased than surprised. The sound of the vibrator disappeared, which meant it was between her pussy lips. I heard Ted begin to talk with her, too softly for me to make out the words, but clearly words of encouragement, excitement and affection. Suddenly I heard Sally call my name. I didn't know what she wanted, so I just sat and waited. She called to me again, and this time I got up, opened their door and entered. What I saw overwhelmed me: there was my wife, lying naked on the bed. There was her lover, lying naked beside her, his body glued to her side. His left hand was on Sally's right breast, and as I drew closer I saw that his mouth was greedily sucking on her left nipple. Sally was excited. VERY excited. I know I've said this before, and I know it sounds stupid given what I've described hearing, but there is always a shock in seeing my wife naked in Ted's arms. Remember, the last time I saw her she was completely dressed, telling me she was going to "fuck Ted until he cums in me." But in spite of her promise, and in spite of all the sounds of sex which made their way through the door for the past 90 minutes, it still took my breath away to see my wife naked with another man. I didn't know what to do, and they weren't talking to me. I stood at the foot of the bed for a while, taking in the scene of my wife with her right hand holding her Pocket Rocket against her clit, shaking and shuddering with pleasure as Ted made love to her tits. From time to time he turned his head to kiss her, and she kissed him back -- that same kiss that she gave me before going to bed with him, but which she never gives me at any other time. A deep, passionate, sexy and sexual kiss, right in front of her husband. I could tell she was close to cumming. Her legs were stretched out, her toes were pointed. Her left arm was under Ted's neck, and her left hand was caressing his back. Her wedding ring was clearly visible to me each time her hand glided toward his shoulder. (She always removes her rings and jewelry when she goes to bed with Ted; as she said to him on the video, "I don't want to hurt you in the heat of passion." But she always leaves her wedding ring on. It's part of her love for me, and part of her gift to Ted.) She was close... SO close... and Ted was whispering his encouragement. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 28 "That's it, Sally. Cum for me. Cum for your lover. I want to feel you feel good. Give that to me. I know you save it for me, so now it's time. You look so beautiful like this. Cum in my arms." She was panting now. Her body was shaking with a hundred tiny spasms, and her left hand was rubbing his shoulder in the way I recognized from when she used to cum with me. Then she looked at me and said, "I wanted you to see this." Nothing more. She simply turned back to him, kissed the top of his head as he sucked on her nipple, and came. It looked like a huge orgasm. She jumped, spasmed, grunted, gasped and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, leaving just the whites showing as she came. Later, Ted said it wasn't nearly as powerful as her first one, but only he was there for that one. For me, I saw my wife lose it completely in her lover's arms. Ted has said many times that the most intimate gift Sally gives him is to cum with him. "Everything else is mechanical," he says, "but when she lets go and cums it is a private thing -- the MOST private thing. If you are ashamed of anything, be ashamed that she cums with me, and not with you." I THINK I thought about that as I watched my wife orgasm, as I watched her experience pleasure she no longer shares with me; pleasure she really never got with me. Maybe not; maybe I only thought about it later, as I replayed it in my mind. I do know that I stood there, masturbating, as Sally gave Ted her most intimate gift right in front of my eyes. As her orgasm subsided, the lovers kissed and held each other. Gentle, post-coital cuddling and affection; one of the things Sally likes most about her lover. I stood there stroking my erection, afraid to make a sound for fear of disturbing the happy, satisfied couple. When they finally moved, Sally looked at Ted and said, "Dinner?" Ted nodded enthusiastically, and Sally got out of bed, walking right by me. As she gathered her clothes, two men watched her every naked move. "Your wife has the most beautiful tits, doesn't she?" he asked. That question scrambled my brain, and I nearly came. Who was that man to be commenting to ME on my wife's tits? Oh right, he's her lover -- he can compliment her on her body, and she loves it when he does. And how does he know what my wife's tits look like? Right again -- after 15 years as her lover, he knows her tits better, more intimately, than anyone - even me. And how dare he make such a crude comment to me? As I stood there playing with my penis after watching her cum in his arms, the truth of the only possible answer was almost more than I could bear: because I'm a cuckold, and we all know it. Can a loving wife become so comfortable cuckolding her husband that she enjoys all of it -- the sex with her lover AND the humiliation of her husband? Yes, she can. It takes time, and love, and communication, but it is possible. My wife cuckolds me as comfortably as she holds my hand when we walk together. Which made our walk to the car and to the restaurant an exercise in competing values... and priorities. When we were all dressed, and I tamed my hard-on enough to fit it in my pants, we walked together through the hotel, toward the parking lot. It was clear Sally was torn: she was in the middle of a date with her lover, but walking in public she knew she needed to make clear that she was with me. So she held my hand, and brushed against his at every opportunity. When we got to our car, I unlocked it... and waited. Ted opened the back door for his girlfriend, then climbed into the back seat next to her. I thought she would protest, but she didn't. They didn't make out during the short ride to the restaurant, but I know they held hands. The hostess seated Sally first, and Ted sat next to her at the table. I sat across from her, and we all ordered drinks. When they arrived, I offered a toast -- to the two of them. They looked into each other's eyes, clinked their glasses and drank. Dinner was surreal. Oh, we were all G-rated in our behavior and appearance, but I sat there thinking that the two of them had just had sex for an hour and a half, and Ted's sperm were now swimming in my wife. I thought of her saying proudly that she was going to fuck him until he came in her, and of her calling me in to watch her cum in his arms. I don't know how I was able to swallow anything I ate; I do know I didn't taste it. But the conversation was surprisingly, achingly normal, and once again I realized that Sally and Ted are lovers, not just fuck-buddies. They enjoy spending time together and, as Ted has said many times, I am simply irrelevant to them when they are together. And that's how I felt as we ate: there, but not there. Sally's husband, but not her lover. The man she would go home with when her date was over, but no one to be bothered with while she and he were close. It was 7:15 by the time we left the restaurant. I didn't know what Ted's schedule was, or when he had to leave, but as soon as we got back in the car -- they sat together in back again -- Ted moved close to Sally and began kissing her. They made out the whole way back to the hotel, and I had a feeling he wasn't ready to say goodbye quite yet! When we got to the room, Sally went to the bathroom. I followed Ted as he went to the bedroom, but I stood at the door and watched as he quickly shed his clothes. This was something we hadn't done before, coming back to the room after a meal. "This is really strange for me," I said. "I don't know what to do now." Naked, his half-hard cock pointing at me, Ted slid into their bed. He looked at me like I was an idiot and said, "Now you GO AWAY. That's what you do." I don't think Ted has ever spoken to me that way before. Honestly, I don't think anyone has ever spoken to me that way before. I bristled, and for a brief moment thought about responding. Then I remembered who I am, and why we were there... and I actually bowed my head as I sheepishly made my way down the hall to the living room. Sally came out of the bathroom. She saw me standing in the living room, then looked into the bedroom and saw Ted lying naked on the bed. Without so much as a word to me, she walked to her lover and closed the door behind her. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be insulted. Damn, no one talks to me that way -- not without suffering the consequences. But as I stood there trying to formulate my response, I heard Sally gasp. A sex gasp. And all I could think to do was pull down my pants and sit down outside the bedroom door, hoping to hear more. Her vibrator started up, and they were at it again. Ted responding to her excitement with his own, and my wife losing herself in her lover's embrace. I heard it build, and as I rubbed my penis Ted's words rang in my ears: "Now you GO AWAY." Suddenly, in addition to the hum of the vibrator and the moans of pleasure from my wife, I heard a different sound: the bang-bang-bang of the headboard against the wall. Ted was fucking her... again! He lasted only a few minutes, and the sounds of his orgasm were quickly followed by Sally's. I've never cum three times in a day in my whole life, but Ted did today. Sally has never cum three times with me in our whole marriage, but she did with Ted today. And I did my job: I went away. Ted left a little while later, apologizing to me that he didn't have time to sit and talk with me. I said I understood, and I thanked him for taking such good care of my wife. "It was my pleasure," he said as he gathered his phone and briefcase. "You have NO IDEA what a pleasure it was, and you never will. Bye." I sat on the floor of the living room, leaning against the couch and masturbating like a man possessed. Sally walked out to me a few minutes later, and sat in the chair facing me. "You told me you were going to fuck Ted until he came in you, and you did," I said to her. "I know," she responded. "You ignored me for an hour and a half while you had sex with him. You didn't say a word to me, you didn't include me, for an hour and a half." "I know," she said. "You said it would be okay, and I believed you." "Then you called me in to watch you cum in his arms. You NEVER let me see you cum, but you called me in and told me you wanted me to watch you cum with Ted. Can you tell me why you did that?" Sally thought for a minute, then looked at me sitting on the floor, masturbating. I think she decided this was no time to pull punches -- that I didn't WANT her to pull her punches. So she said, "I wanted to make you feel shame. And small. And inadequate." I looked into my wife's eyes. I saw love, understanding and, believe it or not, compassion. "Is that really what you wanted me to feel?" I said, gasping as I jerked off. "Yes." "It worked. I am ashamed of myself... what I did, what I didn't do. I'm not much of a man, am I?" I grunted. "No, you're not. And I'm ashamed of you, too. "But I love you." I looked into my wife's eyes, searching for hesitation, or discomfort, or role-playing. I saw none of those. As I had the only sex I ever get, rubbing my own penis, I saw how she sees me: with shame, and with love. And I came. Sally didn't make any move to help me, or even to encourage me. She let me make myself cum in front of her as I relived my cuckolding. HER cuckolding of me. When I stopped shaking, she got up, came over to me, gave me a kiss on the top of my head, and headed back to the bedroom. As she turned away she said, "clean up your mess, then come watch TV with me." I did as she instructed, and eventually followed her into the bedroom. When I sat down on the bed she put her arms around me, kissed me gently on the lips and said, "I love you. I don't WANT you, but I love you." I thanked her for loving me, and said I loved her, too. Then we watched NCIS. * Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 29 Chapter 29 - "The Same Page" Dear Literotica Readers, My favorite comment from a reader on a recent Literotica story was, "I'm not going to read this. I'm just scrolling to the end to give it the ONE star it deserves." As someone who spends WAY too much of my time masturbating, I could only think that someone who spends his/her time putting down other writers without even reading their work makes me feel really good about using my energy to jerk off :-) This is about cuckolding. It's called "A Cuckold's Diary." Honest, I wouldn't lie to you. So if you KNOW you're going to hate it, why not just... go jerk off? Others, read on - I hope you enjoy. CP We were in bed, cuddling and kissing, about a week before Sally's date in February with her lover, Ted. Out of the blue she said, "What do you want to see this time?" No context, no discussion which led up to the question, so I replied as only someone with as many years of schooling as I could: "Huh?" "Every date you ask to see one thing. So what do you want to see this time?" Even being caught off balance, my answer was immediate: "I'd really like you to pull down his pants in the living room, before you go to bed with him, and suck his cock in front of me." Okay, some background here... After Sally and Ted's date in October, he went in for a second round of prostate surgery (sorry folks, the difference between fantasy and reality is that reality isn't always sexy). Nothing cancerous, thank God, but enough of a problem that he had to deal with it. And contrary to the glowing promises of his doctor, his recovery was slow and difficult. January was the first time he felt up to a date with my wife. When we/they got together in January, it was a different feeling than usual. Ted sat talking with Sally for a long time on the living room couch, catching up and, it seemed, working up to sex. Nothing overt, but it seemed they were both being gentle; as an observer it appeared my wife wanted her lover to do just what he was comfortable doing, and nothing more. When they got up to go to bed I sat quietly in my chair; it didn't feel right to intrude into their relationship at that moment. They didn't call me in while they were in bed together; they didn't include me in any way. I heard Sally's pocket rocket start up, and a while later I heard her cum. Then I heard him make the noises he makes when my wife is making him feel good, but I could not tell anything about what they were doing. Eventually his moans and gasps increased in volume and intensity, and I heard him cum -- but without the banging of the bed which usually accompanies him fucking her. Bottom line, I had no idea what had happened, but I was surprisingly okay with that. As I sat outside the bedroom door that day, I realized that what mattered at the moment was... THEM. Ted had gone through a difficult time, and my wife was helping him feel good about himself and feel like a man again. Much as I wanted to be included, I understood that what they were doing was important to them -- to Sally and Ted, who began their relationship almost 16 years ago, and who had stayed together through good times and bad. My role was to shut up and accept that my wife has a *relationship* with her lover: not just fucking, but caring. This was a time for caring, and it did not include me. I was completely fine with this. Over the years, Sally has tried to teach me that "it's not always about you" -- not only in terms of her fucking Ted, but in life in general. She has been both my rock and my biggest critic, reminding me that the world does not revolve around me and me alone. It's been one of the most important lessons I've ever learned, and I am grateful to her for teaching this to me -- with love and, at times, with pointed criticism. But at that moment, while I sat outside their bedroom door and masturbated while my wife gave pleasure to her lover, I took great pride in understanding that this time, this moment, was for THEM, not for me. He needed her, and she was there for him. And I was satisfied to sit outside the bedroom door and jerk off while my wife helped her lover feel good about himself again. When Ted emerged from the bedroom he was dressed and ready to leave. He had to get to a meeting, so we knew he would not have long to spend with her, and certainly not with me. But before he left he told me that Sally had given him one of the most amazing blowjobs of his life, and he had cum in her mouth. He talked about her oral skills for a good five minutes, sitting on the couch while I sat on the chair opposite him and masturbated. Yes, it was exciting to hear about my wife sucking his cock, but I was even happier to hear that my wife had made him cum -- his first orgasm since his surgery. If you're not a cuckold, you will never understand how happy I was that my wife made Ted cum that day. Or how proud I was of myself, for understanding that it wasn't about me, and that my role that day was to shut up, stay out of the way, and let my wife help her lover feel good about himself. When Sally came out, ten minutes after Ted left, she too was dressed and ready to go. I stuffed my erection into my pants and drove my wife home. We did not talk much about what had happened, other than for Sally to confirm that he had helped her to cum, and that she had made him cum with her mouth. I left it there, and didn't push -- it simply wasn't about me. But lest you think I'm simply a saint, I spent the next weeks downloading every porn video I could find of blowjobs, and imagining my wife sucking Ted to orgasm. Thus my immediate response when Sally asked me, "What do you want to see this time?" before their next date. The rest of my answer requires yet a little more explanation. When it was clear it would be a while before Sally and Ted's next date after his surgery, I asked her to explore MY side of cuckolding with me. Especially as we approached November 20th, which marked the seventh anniversary of the day she had asked me if we could stop having sex, my submissive side reared its (ugly?) head and demanded to be noticed. As has been our practice for several years, when Sally wants to get off between dates I sit on the floor on the far side of our bed and masturbate while I talk to her about her dates with Ted. From that position we can speak easily, but I can't see or touch her -- again, at her request. Usually I give her images of her fucking him, of him getting her off, or whatever seems to turn her on at that moment. But beginning in late October I asked if she could try getting off on what *I* think about when I jerk off -- namely, the pain and humiliation of being cuckolded by them. She said she'd give it a try, and true to her word, she did. [Warning: the following thoughts are those of a cuckold. If you do not get off on cuckolding, you will find them strange. If cuckolding offends you, you will find them offensive. Proceed at your own risk!] From late October until their date in late January, Sally's masturbation sessions were "illustrated" by my descriptions of how I felt when she was with Ted. I described the shame of making hotel reservations for her and her lover, and of making sure we got a suite so there would be a place for me to sit and play with myself while they went to bed together, without me. I tried to describe how it feels to make the hotel bed in the morning, after we have slept in it and before Ted arrives to take my place in it. I explained the humiliation of her asking me to check her breasts for stray hairs, so they would be perfect for HIM each time. I told her, even though it was difficult to get the words out, that when Ted arrives it feels like there is only one man in the room. One man, one woman... and a cuckold. I described the knot in my stomach as I watch them sit on the couch and make out -- deep, passionate kisses, hands roaming over each other's bodies, sharp intakes of breath as nerves are triggered. I talked about how it feels to see her stand up and take her lover's hand as he leads her away from me, into the bedroom. How it feels to sit on a chair outside the door and jerk off while listening to the sounds of passion, the sounds of lovemaking, the sounds of sex coming from the bedroom -- their bedroom. And how it feels to sit there, stroking the penis she has rejected, when I hear each of them orgasm in each other's arms... when I hear Ted orgasm in my wife's body. "I don't feel like a man," I told her. "And I don't understand how you can think of me as a man, either. At least, not when it comes to sex." Now, whether you can tell it or not, my wife loves me. She loves me very, very much. Long after she accepted that I got off on her fucking Ted, she still had trouble hurting me. Oh, she reached the point years ago where she could take him to bed, and even close the door so I couldn't watch, but crossing the line to SAYING hurtful things, or even saying something to acknowledge that what she was about to do would hurt me, has always been difficult -- even impossible -- for her. She has taken steps in that direction over the years, and I've probably written about every one in one or another chapter of this Diary, but this never came easy to her. So when, after a few such masturbation sessions, she got very excited and blurted out, "Oh God, you're NOT a man. HE is!" just as she came thinking about Ted fucking her and me playing with my impotent little penis, I felt we had crossed a line. I also came my brains out. We kissed and cuddled after she finished cumming, and I thanked her profusely. I asked her if she was all right with what had happened, and she said she was. I asked if we could do that again and she responded -- enthusiastically -- "Absolutely!" And we did, for the rest of the three months until their date. Each time we "played," I sat on the floor and narrated her dates from my perspective: the shame, the pain AND the excitement of everything she did with him. I told her that these are the things I think about when I masturbate alone, too: every video I watch, I picture HER in it with HIM... and I picture myself as the camera, being given the humiliating thrill of watching two people having really good sex together. She told me I didn't always have to think about her when I jerked off, that she wouldn't be insulted, but I explained that I don't do it for her; I do it for ME. After years of me saying it, she finally came to understand my feeling that I was born to be a cuckold, that my place during sex is outside the closed door, listening to a man and a woman. And what makes the experience complete for me is when that man and woman agree with me. So after almost 31 years of marriage, half of that cuckolding me and more than seven years of her being exclusively, sexually Ted's other than one mercy fuck a year on our anniversary, Sally started to agree with me. She understood that when it comes to sex I am not a man, I am a cuckold. Which led to "the question," and my complete answer. "What do you want to see this time?" "Huh?" "Every date you ask to see one thing. So what do you want to see this time?" "I'd really like you to pull down his pants in the living room, before you go to bed with him, and suck his cock in front of me. I'd like you to show me how you treat a man -- a real man. How you make him feel good -- feel like a man. How you get him excited and hard. How you get him ready to fuck you. I don't know if that's asking too much, but it's what I'd really like to see." "I don't see a problem with that," she answered, and kissed me again. I looked at her face. I can read my wife pretty well, and I can tell when she's "being nice" as opposed to being genuine. What I saw was love, and a little bit of mischief. Could my request really be okay with her? More astonishing, could she have LIKED the thought? The subject didn't come up again as we made our way through the week. Einstein was right -- time DOES slow down as we approach her dates. But Monday night finally arrived and we drove to Pennsylvania. We checked into the hotel and had a normal evening together, if "normal" includes me sitting in bed and thinking every five seconds about another man fucking my wife in that bed in the morning. Our morning ritual has been described in many earlier chapters of my Diary, so I will mention only one thing. After she showered she called to me to inspect her breasts for stray hairs, as usual. But as I was examining the skin of my wife's tits she said, "Why don't you ever stop me? Why didn't you ever stop me?" It was one of the most difficult questions I've ever been asked, but I thought I knew the answer. "Because I can't offer you anything better than Ted, or even equal to what he gives you." "Okay," she responded. But her answer left me thinking. I went into the living room. Ted texted that he was caught in traffic, and would be another half hour. I called to Sally and asked if it would be okay if I played with myself for a little while, and she said she didn't care. So I pulled down my pants, spread some Vaseline on my penis, and started jerking off. I looked at the couch where they would sit, and kiss, and touch each other in a little while. I looked at the hallway leading to the bedroom - the bedroom where Ted would fuck my wife soon after he arrived. I saw the chair I would move to the hallway, to sit on while I listened to them fucking behind the closed door. And then the rest of the answer was clear. "I don't stop you because I'm not man enough," I said. Silence from the other room, then my wife's voice. "No, you're not. I love you, but you're not." I cannot describe the shame, the freedom, the release, the escape and the joy of hearing that my wife felt the same way about me as I did. If there is a more perfect illustration of unconditional love, I am at a loss to find it. It was time for her date with her lover. I jumped up to open the door as soon as Ted knocked. He blew past me without even a hello, and leaned over to kiss my wife before taking off his coat. The moment their lips touched, his right hand found Sally's left breast through her velour pajama top. Not a question about her husband; not even a thought. They kissed and he felt her up for a few minutes, then Sally suggested he take off his coat and stay a while. He handed me his coat, which I dutifully hung in the closet. When I returned they were sitting side by side, arms around each other. His hand hadn't left her breast, and her hand was casually drawing circles around his crotch. They talked for a while, never letting go; since I never know the proper etiquette concerning whether to participate in their casual conversations or not, I basically shut up unless directly addressed. I remembered how long they talked on their previous date, so I sat back to see what would happen. It wasn't more than 10 minutes before Sally told Ted to stand up, and as soon as he did she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his zipper and slid his pants and underwear to his ankles. She dove for his cock -- there's no other word for it -- and started licking and sucking him. Ted gasped as his organ started to grow in her mouth, then he gave me a look which was half ecstasy and half amusement and said, "You'll NEVER know how good this feels." In no time he was hard. When his cock was sticking straight out from his groin Sally took her mouth off him with a "pop," looked at him, then at me, then back to his cock and said, "Look what I did!!" Neither of us had time to formulate an answer before she swallowed his whole cock again and he shook with pleasure. Sally looked up at Ted's face and started to say something. I was sure she was going to say it was time to go to bed, but to my surprise she told him to sit back on the couch. As he did, she turned to face him and bent over to take his cock back in her mouth. She was facing away from me now, and it was difficult for me to see what was happening, so with no thought for my own dignity I asked them if I could move around to the other side to get a better view. "It's fine with me," she said. His answer was some sort of sound indicating that he didn't give a damn what I did as long as my wife kept sucking his cock, so I took that as a "yes." There was no chair on that side of the couch, so I sat on the floor. I was still fully dressed, but my own erection was poking out through my pants -- not that my wife would have noticed if it was a foot long, which it most definitely is not. I was two feet from them -- more accurately, two feet from the intersection of Ted's cock and my wife's mouth -- and I saw... everything. I had asked my wife to show me how she treats a man -- a real man -- and she did. I saw her lick the underside of Ted's cock, from the base to the tip, and I saw it jerking up and down as she did. I saw her run her tongue around the head of his cock, again and again, and I heard the "uh-uh-uh-uh" of pleasure which her tongue elicited from her lover. I saw her open her mouth and push down to his pubic hair, closing her lips around the base of his cock when she got there. I watched her draw her lips up, up, up in a concentrated effort to touch and trigger every nerve along the shaft of his cock, and I saw him spasm with pleasure as she fucked him with her mouth. From my vantage point I could see it all, including how hard he was getting. As she drew her lips along his shaft I saw every blood vessel outlined clearly, so filled with blood that they were popping out of the sides of his cock. As she licked the head I saw it swell and turn a dark purple. And as I stared, I realized she was staring at me. When my eyes caught hers she started all over again. Licking the underside, running her tongue around the head, taking his whole cock into her mouth and sucking on it... and staring at me. "She wants me to see this," I thought. "She's not just doing it with me here; she's showing me. She's hurting me and she knows it!" The image of my wife's beautiful eyes, looking at me while her mouth was filled with Ted's penis, was one I will never, ever forget. "I hated doing this with you," she said, never taking her eyes off me and swallowing his entire cock again. Ted cried out his pleasure, and my head spun. I pulled my attention away from my wife's mouth and looked up at Ted. He was looking at me and laughing -- at least as much as a man can laugh while getting a blowjob. "How do you feel, watching your wife suck my cock so wonderfully?" he asked, although it didn't actually sound like that. It sounded more like, "How do OH you feel, watOOOHching your wife UNNGGH suck my cockkkkk?" I thought about my answer for a minute, and as I did Ted jerked as if a jolt of electricity had gone through him. My wife wasn't pausing for anything, least of all me. "I'm ashamed of myself," I confessed. "I don't blame you," he taunted. "She's SO good at sucking my cock, and you'll never know how this feels. "But you're excited, too -- aren't you? You're excited to sit here and watch your wife give me a blowjob," he taunted. "Yes, I am," I answered softly. "Are you more ashamed, or excited?" he continued. I couldn't believe I was having a conversation with a man while my wife had his cock in her mouth, and was clearly enjoying herself -- and him. "They're the same. I'm ashamed, but I'm excited that my wife is doing this to you -- and to me." "They are the same for you, aren't they? You like seeing my cock in your wife's mouth, don't you?" "Yes," I admitted. "I do." "You do WHAT?" he demanded, continuing his humiliation of me. I took a breath, felt my erection trying to rip its way out of my pants, and I said, "I like seeing your cock in my wife's mouth. I'm ashamed and excited by it." A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 29 As if on cue, she swallowed him again. He bucked and fell back from the intense pleasure and I looked into my wife's eyes. There I saw love... and disappointment. I was watching her get her lover ready to fuck her, and all I could do was get hard and admit I was excited. She turned to Ted and said, "Please take me to bed now." Without a word he stood up, pulled his pant up just enough to be able to walk without tripping, and with his erection pointing the way, walked to the bedroom. Sally stood up, walked over to me and bent over to kiss me as I sat on the floor. Just before our lips met she said, "Remember where my mouth has been," and kissed me hard and deep. Before I could even catch a breath she was gone, the bedroom door clicking shut behind her. No worries, my love. I'll remember where your mouth has been. You're pretty unforgettable, no matter what you're doing. When the door closed, I found myself alone, hard, sitting on the living room floor. My mind was reeling from the past 20 minutes, and I was unable to stand up for a while. I sat there thinking about what I had just seen and heard, and looking down the hallway at the closed door, behind which my wife was going to bed with her lover. It wasn't until I heard her moan -- through the door and down the length of the hallway -- that I was able to pull myself together enough to get to my feet. I pulled off my pants and underwear, dragged a chair to the door, laid down a towel, spread Vaseline on my cock and sat down outside THEIR door to jerk off while they made love. As soon as I approached the door I heard the sound of Sally's pocket rocket, and when I sat down I heard Ted talking to my wife. I can never hear what he is saying, but I hear him talking to her, encouraging her, as she holds her vibrator on her clit. Her gasps and moans increased, then she went silent... then she came. I heard my wife -- my partner for over 30 years, the mother of my children, the woman I love more than life itself -- orgasm in her lover's arms. There is no way to transcribe the sounds of her orgasm; all I can say is that she left no question in my mind that she had given herself to Ted and allowed him to guide her to the ultimate pleasure. I thought of all the times we were at home together, her using her vibrator and me sitting on the floor talking to her about sex with her lover, when she would say, "I wish Ted was here to get me over." Now he was here, and she was here, and I could only listen and play with myself as he "got her over." I kept myself from cumming as I listened, and I thought about how pathetic I was to sit there and jerk off while another man made my wife cum. Even more powerful, I told myself that HE and SHE both felt that way, too. They knew I was right outside the door; they knew I could hear; they knew I was rubbing my penis while I listened; and yet, at that moment there was nothing in the world but her, and him, and... sex. Her question echoed in my head: "Why don't you stop me? Why didn't you ever stop me?" I rubbed my incredibly hard cock and knew I had answered correctly the second time: "Because I'm not enough of a man." I nearly came as I thought about her response: "No, you're not. I love you, but you're not." Her aftershocks seemed to go on forever. Only the sound of Ted sucking in his breath made me realize that the focus had changed from her pleasure to his. I didn't know what they were doing -- what SHE was doing to him -- but I knew she was making him feel very, very good. I sat outside the bedroom door as Ted's gasps turned into moans and his moans turned into cries of passion. I couldn't tell you whether they went on for five minutes or fifteen; all I know was that my wife turned him on and excited him until he couldn't hold back anymore. I sat there and rubbed while my wife made Ted cum, and there was no part of his orgasm which could have been mistaken for anything but intense, ultimate pleasure. I SAT THERE AND JERKED OFF WHILE MY WIFE MADE ANOTHER MAN CUM, and all I could think, as I strained to keep from cumming myself, was that this was... RIGHT. Sex was for him, and for her... and not for me. I felt it, and even behind the closed door I knew they felt it, too. We all knew that I'm not man enough for sex. I thought they were done, but I was wrong. They weren't done... at least they weren't done with me. Ted's cries had barely died down when I heard Sally call my name. I waited to see if she was going to say anything else -- that she wanted me to bring them a drink, for example -- but I didn't hear another word. Tentatively, I opened the bedroom door and asked what she wanted. She didn't say anything, but what she wanted was clear: she wanted to show me what she was doing and what she had just done. As I opened the door I saw my wife -- my naked wife -- lying on top of Ted. Her legs were spread around his hips, his cock was in her pussy, and she was rocking back and forth, driving him deeper and deeper into her body. The last time I had seen them, they were walking toward the bedroom together. The last time I saw Ted's cock, it was hard and pointing toward my wife's pussy as they walked. Now I saw them again: naked, in bed, with that same cock sliding in and out of her pussy as she fucked him. I couldn't breathe. The scene said it all. Sally -- my wife, my loving wife -- called me in to show me that she was fucking Ted; to show me what she did to him that made him cry out as he came. She had showed me how she got him ready to fuck her, now she wanted to show me what fucking looked like. I moved to the bottom of the bed to see... it. To see fucking. To see Ted's sex in my wife's sex. Then I moved back to the side of the bed to watch them kissing and caressing and sharing tender words as his cock gradually softened and slipped out of her. I saw it flop onto his leg and thought to myself that that was one of the most obscene things I've ever seen. And Sally wanted me to see it. My wife wanted me to see her continuing to fuck him after he came, and she wanted me to see his spent cock -- the cock she made so incredibly hard just a little while ago -- flop out of her pussy, it's mission (emission?) accomplished. MY WIFE WANTED ME TO SEE THAT. When he slipped out of her she kissed him and rolled off him, lying on her back beside him. She looked at me standing there, jerking my cock like I was trying to pull it off, and she spread her legs, draping her left leg over him. She laid there for a minute, giving me a view of her whole body - naked, open... for HIM. Then she said, "Put your finger in me -- ONE finger. I want you to feel how wet I am for him." She never asked me to do that before. NEVER. Even when she was in bed with him, she had always drawn a physical line, a boundary, between me and them. In fact, the one time she reached out to hold my hand while she was cuddling with him stands out as one of the most erotic moments of my life... and that was just holding her HAND. But here she was, lying naked in front of me, with her naked lover pressed up against her side and her leg thrown across his body, asking me -- no, TELLING me -- to put my finger in her to see how wet she was for him. If you've read the other chapters of my Diary, you know that this has been a central element of my cuckolding: long before Sally could verbalize any of her feelings for Ted or describe how he turns her on, we all knew that she has never needed any artificial lubrication for him to fuck her. And we all also knew that she was never able to fuck me without a generous application of Vaseline to my penis. Amazingly, and humiliatingly, even after she came with me her pussy would still be too dry for me to enter her -- or even slip my finger into her. And now she wanted to show me how wet she was for HIM. Back to the harsh reality of Ted's prostate problem: he doesn't actually ejaculate much these days. He says his orgasms still feel as good as they ever did (and it sure sounds like they do), but he longs for the "good old days" when he could hit the wall with his cum. I mention this only because what I felt when I touched my finger to Sally's pussy lips was mostly her... and she was WET. Based on my own experience I assumed I'd need to lick my finger to get it in, but I was wrong. My finger slid right in; she was wet on the outside and wet on the inside, and as I felt it I groaned and nearly came. "Does it turn you on to see how wet I get for a real man?" my wife asked me with a combination of love and dominance. I started to answer, but Ted answered for me. "I think it turns him on more to have his finger in your pussy after I came in you, than it would if he was trying to fuck you. Look at your husband's face -- the face of a cuckold." Sally smiled and kissed him, then said, "Am I wet? Can you feel how wet he makes me?" "Yes," I croaked. "You're wet. You're really wet." "That's for HIM," she said, and kissed him again. "Th- thank you for letting me feel you," I said, barely able to get the words out. "I wanted you to see, to feel... to KNOW -- how a MAN makes me feel," she said. I had never heard her talk to me like this, and I looked to see if it was making her uncomfortable. All I saw was pleasure: pleasure in being in Ted's arms, pleasure kissing him as he continued to jerk and shake from the way she made him cum, and yes, pleasure in letting go and showing me how she felt about me as a man. I looked in her eyes and saw love -- and disappointment. I am so many things to her, but now she made it clear that I'm not a man. HE is. She told me to take my finger out of her, and I obeyed. I stood there masturbating as they kissed and hugged and cuddled for I don't know how long. She caressed his arm and said, "I don't think I'm up for another round today; I hope you don't mind." His answer came with a kiss. "Not all passion involves penetration. I'd just like to lie here with you and enjoy the feeling of your body next to mine." She LOVED his response. Without a moment's hesitation she turned her head to look at me and said, "GO AWAY. NOW." I mumbled something about being grateful to them for showing me sex, and I quickly backed out of their bedroom. I closed the door and returned to my seat, beating off furiously as I thought about everything I had experienced. They stayed in bed for another half hour, then I heard Ted dressing to leave. I left the chair by the door and went back into the living room, where I continued to masturbate. Ted emerged dressed, and sat down on the couch facing me. "Well?" he said. I've long since gotten over my hesitation about jerking off in front of him after he's fucked my wife; what am I worried about, my self-esteem? So I sat there, naked, and stroked myself while my wife's lover sat and looked at me. "I'm so ashamed," I groaned. "Oh, I'm sure of that. So what was the most shameful part for you?" he asked, as calmly as if we were discussing the day's news. "She hurt me, and she liked it. You laughed at me, and you liked it. You made each other feel good, and you both made me feel really, really bad... and you LIKED IT." "You know, it's true," he said. "She's always sexual and sensual, but today she was playful, too. I have you to thank for that." "Me?" I asked, with genuine surprise. "Oh yes! You've shown her that she can enjoy hurting you while she enjoys pleasuring me, and today I think she did that. She had FUN hurting you today, and I KNOW she had fun fucking me!" I kept myself from falling over the edge and cumming when he said that, but it was close. When I regained enough of my composure to speak again I grunted, "You laughed at me while she sucked your cock. Even when you were shaking from the feeling of her mouth on you, you talked to me and laughed at me. Is that how YOU feel about me, too?" Ted thought for a minute. I could see him evaluating the so-called man sitting in front of him, playing with the cock my wife has rejected for his. "I think we're all on the same page about you. You think you're a sexual loser, and so does your wife. And so do I. "Thank you for bringing her to me. That's something you're good at. See you next time I fuck her." And with that, he left. I let Sally sleep for a while, then gently woke her when it was time to leave. "Are you okay?" she asked as soon as she woke up. "Yes, my love. I'm great." "I hurt you today," she said tentatively. "Yes, you did. And I'm so grateful to you for that. I know it wasn't easy, but it meant more to me than I can say." "What did you like best?" "I liked when you looked at me and hurt me," I confessed. "Ted just said that you were 'playful' today, and you had fun hurting me. I saw that, and I think it's true." "It is true. I really had fun today -- all of it," she said more assertively. "I told Ted that I was ashamed of myself, and he said he thought we were all on the same page about that," I said as I gently caressed her arm. "I think he's right," she said. Our anniversary is coming up soon, and with it comes my once-a-year mercy fuck. A few days after their date I asked Sally how she felt about it. "I'm dreading it," she said, "but I want to give that to you. I'll also be relieved when it's over for another year." Then she said, "I love you and I'm so grateful to be married to you. I love so many things about you... just not sex." And with that, she hugged me and kissed me good-night. We ARE on the same page. ************** Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 30 Chapter 30 - "The Towel Waver" October 2014 Here's an old Jewish Joke: Sam and Sarah, married 20 years, are having trouble in bed. Sarah seems unhappy and keeps wondering if there isn't something she's missing when it comes to sex. Finally they go to the rabbi for advice. After hearing from both of them, he agrees that something has to change. He tells them the following. "Go out and find a good-looking, well-built young man. Tell him you need his help, and invite him to your home. When you get ready for bed, hand him a large towel and ask him to wave it over you while you have sex. See if that fixes the problem." It's an unusual request, but the rabbi is never wrong, so out they go. They find a perfect specimen at the gym – 22 years old, handsome and quite the hardbody. They explain what they need, and he agrees to help them out. The next day they go back to the rabbi. "Nothing changed," Sarah complains. The young man stood there and waved the towel the entire time we had sex, but... nothing. I am SO disappointed!" "Hmmm," says the rabbi, "that's very surprising. It almost always works." He thinks for a minute then says, "Let's try just one more thing. This time, Sam, YOU wave the towel while your wife has sex with the young man." Desperate to find a solution, they agree. That night, the guest get in bed with Sarah, and Sam takes his place by the bed. He starts waving the towel and the young man takes Sarah passionately, intensely and repeatedly. Sarah is over the moon with pleasure, crying out as she cums again and again. Finally they finish and collapse in a pool of sweat, pussy juice and cum. With a look of absolute triumph Sam says, "You see, shmuck? THAT'S how you wave a towel!" ************* I'm Paul. My wife is Sally. I wave the towel. It's been a long time since I wrote the previous chapter in my Diary. Not that things haven't been wonderful for us, but because they have been pretty much the same. Sally gets together with her long-time lover, Ted, about once a month, and they spend 3-4 hours having a date. Their dates include sex, talking, sex, lunch, sex... you get the idea. A while back, Ted asked me what the most exciting thing was for me on their most recent date. I said it was knowing how excited Sally was about spreading her legs for him – about fucking him. "But there's nothing new about that," he said. I told him it didn't have to be new: I was a cuckold, and he had just fucked my wife. More important, my wife WANTED HIM to fuck her. "It never gets old," I said, and he had to agree that fucking Sally didn't get old, either. So there hasn't been much to tell, since "He fucked my wife again" is exciting as hell to experience, but doesn't translate into a very captivating story! But recent events are, indeed, new developments. For those who are not cuckolds or cuckoldresses, I doubt you will enjoy what I'm going to write, or even see the excitement in it; that's all right, since I'm basically writing it for myself. For those who "get it" – enjoy! Two dates are worth relating. This chapter is about the first of them. A brief recap: After 15 years of my asking/begging/pleading with Sally to try cuckolding, she finally did in April, 1998. She met Ted, and they hit it off. They were "an item" for about four years, then stopped seeing each other for a variety of reasons. Then in 2005 they got back together again, but with one difference: when Sally thought about restarting their relationship, she asked me if it would be possible for them to have sex together, without me in the room. I said I thought I could handle it if they were willing to throw me some crumbs from time to time, and that's the way their affair began again. I would reserve a hotel suite for their dates; this allowed me to sit outside their bedroom door and masturbate while they had the privacy of the bedroom for sex. Their "reunion" went very well, and subsequent reunions went even better. There were ups and downs for me as we tried to find a balance that worked for everyone: them showing me enough that I could get off on what was happening, and me backing off enough to let them have their time – and their sex – alone together. By the fall of 2006 I saw that Sally was truly enjoying her dates with Ted. Far more than she ever enjoyed sex with me, by her own account and by my observation. In November of that year I said that if she wanted to stop having sex with me, saving herself for her dates with Ted, I thought we could make it work. After spending time thinking about it she said no, she didn't want to stop having sex with me... she still wanted to do it once a year, on our anniversary! She was so earnest in her "demand" that we still fuck once a year that she took my breath away, since it was clear she was equally earnest in her desire not to do it with me more than once a year. That conversation took place on November 20, 2006, and we kept to our new arrangement through the summer of 2007. Between dates I would hold her in our bed while she used her vibrator to get off, then I would go downstairs to my home office and masturbate. She especially liked it when I helped her think about fucking Ted while she got off; in fact, it seemed like the best thing I could do to help her get excited. So in the summer of 2007, when she asked me if I would be willing to sit on the floor by the bed where she couldn't see me while I helped her get off by talking to her about Ted, I was hurt but not surprised. I asked her why she wanted that, and she said that, honestly, my presence in bed got in the way when she was trying to get off; my best efforts to turn her on just weren't that good, and what I did best was talking to her about her dates with her lover. Recognizing the truth of what she said, and excited that SHE was comfortable enough to hurt me like that, I asked if I could play with myself while I did as she asked. She LOVED the idea. So, my wife has had a relationship with Ted for over half our marriage. I have made the arrangements for their dates and then sat outside their bedroom door for the past nine years. For eight years – one-quarter of our marriage – she has fucked only him, other than my once-a-year mercy fuck on our anniversary. And for nearly that long I have had NO sexual contact with her, or with anyone, except for one time a year on our anniversary. She tells me that the two things I do that make her feel best sexually are taking her to Ted and agreeing never to ask her for sex. I know this sounds harsh, but in fact it feels right – right for both of us, or rather, for all three of us. Just about the only thing Sally and I fought about over the years of our marriage was sex: I thought she was repressed and frigid, and my invitations to sex were often postponed, ignored or rejected outright. Even when we had sex she was never wet for me and couldn't wait for it to be over. Coming as she did from a truly sexually-repressed mother, I blamed both of them for our less-than-adequate sex life. Imagine our mutual surprise when she first went to bed with Ted, and didn't need any artificial lubrication! What's more, after the first time she was actually excited about going to bed with him – to the point where SHE became the aggressor. It took her a while to acknowledge it, since she really does love me and didn't want to hurt me, but she LOVED sex with him. And, she realized, she hated sex with me. In other words, SHE wasn't the problem in our sex life. I was. She realized it, I realized it, and Ted realized it, too. I was the problem. I was always the problem. Fortunately, I'm a cuckold. Or maybe it's more than a happy coincidence. Maybe I was always the problem because, deep down, I knew that my place is outside the bedroom door. Whatever the genesis of our relationship, this is how we got to where we are today: a wonderful, loving, cuckold relationship in which all three of us get what we need and what we want. Mick Jagger, you were wrong – sometimes you can get both. Which brings us to their two most recent dates, and why I'm writing again. This chapter will explore the first of those dates, and the next chapter will finish the story. In September our schedules presented an interesting challenge: the only time we could get together with Ted was in the afternoon, rather than our (their) usual morning dates. It took a little negotiation with the hotel since renting a room from noon to 6pm is generally frowned upon in hotels that don't charge by the hour. Fortunately we are good customers – we only go there for Sally and Ted to fuck, but that's been over 70 times in the past eight years – so they understood when I said we had a meeting in the area in the morning and a party to go to at night, so could we get the room for the afternoon? "Of course, Mr. Pines. We're happy to have you here any time," was the reply. Hampton Inn, you rock! On the appointed day we checked in, Sally fixed her makeup and we waited for Ted to arrive. He texted me and said he wanted to pick us up and go to lunch before sex, but when I read that to Sally she was NOT happy. She debated about how much she wanted to reveal, but finally agreed that I could send this text: >Your call, but she'd rather fuck you the minute you get here. Why don't you call her and talk? He responded, >Well all righty, then. It's fucking before food. I'm not complaining. Sally was pleased with his response, and I think she was pleased that she took the aggressor role more than she ever had before. So when he arrived and sat down on the couch in the living room of the suite, she basically attacked him. He started talking about life and work, but she concentrated on undressing him – completely – within two minutes of his arrival. I sat there in awestruck silence until we were both staring at his naked body. With that, Sally got up from the couch and walked over to me to give me our now-traditional "good-bye kiss" before going to bed with him. As she kissed me passionately – the sexiest kisses I ever get from her are when she's about to fuck Ted – he walked up behind her, reached around her and began caressing her tits. She turned to him, kissed him at least as hard as she had just kissed me, and they walked together to the bedroom. I quickly undressed and was about to pull a chair over to the now-closed bedroom door when I saw his clothes – everything, from shoes to underwear – lying on the floor where Sally had left them. I thought about what they meant; if his clothes were here, then he was in there naked... with my wife. As if to punctuate my thought, at that moment Sally moaned so loudly I heard her through the closed door and down the hallway. Sex had begun – without me. I dragged a chair over to the door, sat down and started masturbating. I heard small pants and gasps from Sally, and the soft murmur of Ted encouraging her in her pleasure until, in less time than it took to write this, my wife came in her lover's arms. She cried out, the bed shook as her body spasmed again and again, and Ted's loving, encouraging words carried her through her orgasm. I thought back to all the times we played at home and how so often Sally would say, "I wish Ted was here to get me over," and I stroked my penis while my wife's wish came true. I thought about how my job was to bring her to him – to make all the arrangements, to make sure everything was perfect for their date – and then to sit outside the bedroom while he gave her what I never could. That's when I remembered the joke about the towel-waver. But it wasn't a joke. Ted was making love to my wife the way she always wanted, always needed, and I was waving the towel and congratulating myself on how good I am at it. My reverie was interrupted by a gasp from Sally and a groan from Ted: he was fucking my wife. The strangest thought crossed my mind – one that hasn't left me since. I decided, then and there, that I was going to be the best towel-waver in the world; the best towel-waver in history. At that moment I accepted everything that had happened up to this point: how they started, how they got back together, how Sally gradually took away sex from me and gives it all to him, and how it feels to sit outside the door while my wife and her lover have sex. I'm no good at sex, and I never was. But dammit, I can wave a towel. Instead of wondering when they were going to call me in so I could watch and get off, I sat in my chair and masturbated while my wife fucked her lover. I listened to every sound she made, every sound he made, and began a cuckold's mantra: "This is why I brought her here. This is why I brought her here." To my amazement, it worked. I wasn't just excited to hear them fucking; I was actually... happy. To hear the sounds of my wife's pleasure as a real man fucked her; to hear her lover grunting and moaning as his cock slid in and out of my wife's pussy... this was, truly, what I did best. I made everything perfect for them, so they could have sex. Together, and without me. I heard them moving on the bed: sheets rustling, bodies repositioning. Then he let out a long, drawn-out moan, almost inhuman in quality. I didn't know exactly what was happening, but I had no question that it felt good to the man in bed with my wife. I didn't hear the bed banging, so it didn't sound like fucking, but then again, it wasn't my business. His moans/groans/gasps grew louder, more powerful, more insistent; he was almost crying. Then he came, and it sounded like he was ejaculating several internal organs. It went on forever: the sound of pleasure. Ultimate pleasure. Whatever she was doing, my wife was giving him the pleasure she no longer wants to give me. I almost felt the pleasure, so clear were his cries of passion. Almost, but not quite; that pleasure is reserved for him. It was all I could do not to cry, and not to cum. This is why I brought her here, I thought, as I heard his voice reflect every spasm of his cock. I concentrated on being very quiet. No one likes a loud towel-waver. After he finished, they were quiet, too, for a long time. Then Sally called to me and asked me to bring her a cold drink. I ran to the kitchen and pulled a Snapple from the refrigerator (it's the towel-waver's job to make sure the lovers have the drinks they want, when they want them; I had loaded the refrigerator when we arrived). Back at the bedroom door I knocked politely, and waited for them to invite me in. When I opened the door I was confronted with Ted's naked back, ass and legs. He was on his left side, facing away from me – facing my wife, who was lying on her back next to him. I went around the bed and handed the open bottle to Sally, who stretched out to reach for it. She was, of course, naked: her tits were exposed to me, but more important, they were exposed to... him. She was unashamed, unapologetic, unconcerned; I had to blink a few times to realize that I wasn't imagining her naked, because she couldn't have been more relaxed in front of another man if she had been fully dressed and sitting in an armchair. I rubbed my penis, and she laughed. Ted interrupted my admiration of my wife's body by saying, "Why don't you sit down on the floor and we'll talk for a while?" I wasn't sure where he wanted me to sit, but I was SO excited that he wanted me to stay in the room with him and his lover! He motioned to the foot of the bed, where I happily grabbed a towel and sat on it. His first words were, "Your wife just gave me the most amazing blowjob. Her mouth is incredible! It felt so good, and her lips just drew my orgasm out of me. Did you hear me cum?" "Yes," I said, literally shaking as I responded. My wife's lover was telling me how she sucked his cock, and was checking to make sure I heard him cum." "Good," he said. He continued telling me how good it felt to have sex with my wife. As he talked he paused from time to time, and I knew he was kissing Sally at those moments. I have to say that I've never hated the huge, heavy duvet which Hampton Inn uses on its beds more than at that moment, since it kept me from seeing anything of them except Sally's two hard, pointing nipples which stood up like miniature monuments to sex. But I wasn't complaining; how often does a cuckold get the honor of hearing about sex from his wife's lover? At one point Sally turned onto her side, facing him. I saw her hand moving under the covers, and I knew she was caressing his cock... again. He continued to talk, but now his conversation was interrupted both by kissing and by groaning as her hand worked its magic on him. Finally he said to her, "Let's pull off the cover so your husband can see the wonderful things you're doing to my cock." She threw off the covers, but when her hand returned to his sex it went straight for his balls and her mouth went for his cock. He groaned loudly, and asked me if I could see what she was doing. I said it was difficult to see from the bottom of the bed, and would it be all right if I moved around to the side where I could see better? (Yes, I really did that. I asked my wife's lover if it would be all right for me to crawl from the foot of the bed to the side of the bed, so I could get a better view of my wife sucking his cock. Even now I'm ashamed that I asked, but I am SO glad I did.) As my wife sucked his cock, Ted acted as if this was actually important enough for him to care. After what seemed like an eternity he said, "Sure, be my guest." I really did crawl. I didn't want to stand up – that would put me too much in their line of sight, and I didn't want to ruin their lovemaking by imposing myself on them. Or was it that I was afraid Sally would see me and send me away? Either way, I walked on my knees, hand still stroking my painfully hard cock, to the side of the bed. What happened next, dear Diary, is one of the reasons I'm writing again. I will try to describe the most exciting, humiliating, powerful, shameful experience I can ever remember. For the next 10 minutes my wife sucked her lover's cock right in front of me. And while she did, for the entire 10 minutes, she never took her eyes off me. I saw – no, she showed me – how she gave him the most intimate pleasure imaginable. I saw it. I was RIGHT THERE. She kissed the head of his cock, then slowly swirled her tongue around it. She licked from the base of his shaft to the head, then did the same on the other side. Her hand caressed his balls and occasionally slid up the length of his cock. His contented sighs turned into moans as she continued her blowjob. "This is your wife, Paul. Look at her. Doesn't she look beautiful?" Ted taunted me. I hadn't stopped looking at her. Yes, she looked beautiful. She always looks beautiful. I love staring into her hazel-colored eyes which, when she's excited, get very large and open. And she looked no less beautiful with her mouth wide open, too, forming an O around her lover's penis. What could I say? "Yes, she looks very, very beautiful," I croaked in response. "What's she doing, Paul? What is your wife doing right now?" he continued, with an edge of dominance in his voice. "She's sucking your cock," I said. "Yes, she is. Look, Paul – look at YOUR wife sucking MY cock. Why aren't you stopping her?" I thought for a minute about how to respond. I was kneeling beside the bed – THEIR bed – jerking off while my wife filled her mouth with Ted's cock. Then I remembered the towel and quite literally I threw in the towel. You want me to shame myself in front of my wife? Okay, here goes. "I'm not stopping her because I'm not a man. YOU are." "What do you mean, you're not a man? Tell me why you're not," he continued. I answered him, but never took my eyes off her. And although she didn't say a word, she never took her eyes off me. "I'm not a man because I can't give her what you give her. I never did. YOU make her feel like a woman, and I never did. She loves the way you respond when she sucks your cock, and I never responded like that. I didn't get hard, or I didn't stay hard when she did that to me. She never got wet for me. Never. I never made her want to fuck me, or NEED to fuck me. But she wants to fuck you. She wants to turn you on because you turn her on. And I never did. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 30 "I'm not a man because I never made her feel like a woman. So I can't stop her because I can't offer her anything better, or anywhere near as good as what you give her." As I recited this litany of shame, and without taking her eyes from me, Sally intensified her attack on Ted's cock. I saw it grow and harden in response to her mouth and her hand – and maybe even in response to my confession? Just as I finished, Sally tilted her head to the right, opened her mouth wide and swallowed his now-erect cock. He cried out with pleasure, and I saw something that will stay with me to my dying day: Ted's cock pushed Sally's left cheek so far out, and stretched the skin of her cheek so tight, that I saw the complete outline of the head of his cock in her cheek. The image was so clear that I even saw the ridge that formed the bottom edge of the head – the ridge that Sally told me she loved from the first time he fucked her, over 16 years ago. It's strange: I've looked for similar pictures on the internet in the days since (I learned that it's called "chipmunking," since the woman's cheeks bulge out like a chipmunk's), and while I've found many, the women in the pictures always look bizarre. It's not a natural look, and they look grotesque, distorted. But the image of Sally is still in front of my eyes, and she only looks... beautiful. My wife's beautiful face made even more beautiful by the outline of her lover's hard penis in her cheek. Ted watched it all with satisfaction. Of course there was the satisfaction of a(nother) fantastic blowjob from his lover, but there was also the satisfaction of having his lover's husband acknowledge his own failing – failings – while it was happening. "You're right," he said through grunts and pants that sounded like he was in labor. "You're not a man. So now it's time for you to leave us alone." I didn't argue. I stumbled to my feet, although part of me felt I should walk out on my knees. I never stopped masturbating as I crossed the three feet to the door, but before I walked out I said, "Thank you. Thank you both VERY much." Ted didn't respond; he was busy getting a blowjob. Sally didn't respond, either. It's not polite to talk with your mouth full. But to the very last second when I closed the door, her eyes never left mine. Ted fucked her the moment the door clicked shut. I sat in my chair and waved the towel like mad. When they finished, we all got dressed and went out to lunch. Sally and Ted sat side by side, and anyone seeing us would have known that I was the friend joining a couple for lunch. Nothing overt: no kissing, no dirty talk. Just the quiet comfort of lovers together, sharing lunch with a friend. When we got back to the hotel I quietly asked Sally if they were going back to bed. She said she'd be happy to, but didn't think Ted was up for another round. She was wrong. I made a quick trip to the bathroom in our suite, and as I came out I saw Ted in the bedroom, removing the last of his clothes. Sally was still in the living room, so I quietly approached her and told her that her lover was waiting for her in bed. She smiled a surprised, happy smile, gave me a kiss on the cheek and went to him. They closed the door and made love for the next hour, never giving me a second thought. I was not upset. In fact, I was... happy. I listened to them – their quiet conversations, their quiet sighs and moans, their not-so-quiet groans, even their not-at-all-quiet orgasms – with a sense of complete satisfaction. I'm not a man, at least not when it comes to sex. I know it and I think I've always known it. Ted knows it; he's known it since the first time he took my wife from me and watched me relinquish the role of "man" to him. And Sally knows it, too; though she sought for the longest time to deny it (because, after all, she thought she married a MAN), it was absolutely clear to me that she knows it now, too, because she showed me. She showed me how she treats a man and how she loves being treated by a man. It was as clear as the outline of Ted's cock in her cheek. When they were done, Ted left and I took my wife home. We didn't get to talk about it much, but we did both agree that in every other aspect of our lives I AM a man. Only in bed do I fall short, but we've found a way to deal with that. Sally fucks Ted, and I wave a towel. They are great sex partners, and I'm really good at towel-waving. Continued in the next chapter, "Having Fun." Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored. Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 31: Having Fun "Having Fun" October 2014 Want to know how to kill a masochist's excitement? Just say, "Tell me if this hurts too much and I'll stop." I'm a masochist. I get off on being hurt. I don't have much experience with physical pain, but I've said for years that cuckolding is "psychological S&M." I've also corresponded with many masochists who actually live, and live for, the thrill of being hurt by someone. Some have gone to professional dominatrices, others have been fortunate enough to have someone they love who understands their excitement at being hurt. Bottom line, the excitement is all about control... or lack thereof. Very few people are actually turned on by being HURT; most masochists get off on losing control. When you are with someone who is so in control that she (or he) is willing to hurt you without regard for how you feel, it is SUCH a turn on! Which is why "tell me when to stop" kills the mood. Professional doms will always give their subject a "safe word"; a word to use if they actually go too far. This makes sense, as no one wants to be arrested for doing damage to another person. And a pro cannot possibly know what the subject really means when he or she says "Oh God, that hurts!" Is it, "Oh God, that hurts and I'm so excited I'm going to cum!" or is it "Oh God, that fucking hurts and you have to stop or I'm going to die!"? Hence the "safe word," which is both safe and... a buzz kill. So the ultimate sexual experience for a masochist would be someone who knows them so well that they are not only able to understand their need to be hurt, but also know them well enough to hurt them as much as they can stand, but never more. Without asking. Without a "safe word." A person who knows the subject so well that she can ENJOY hurting him because she knows it turns everyone on. Where can anyone find such a person? Well, I'm married to her. Her name is Sally. You can go back and read about the development of our cuckoldress/cuckold relationship over the past 31 years of marriage and 16 years of cuckolding, but if you've followed our story you know that Sally did not come to this easily. I won't go into the difficulties a loving wife has when she hears her husband begging her to hurt him by fucking another man, but believe me it wasn't easy for her. Only gradually, as she realized a) that I really DID like being hurt like this, and b) she actually really liked sex when it was with someone better at it than I am, was she able to let go and have fun. First, she let go and started having fun fucking her lover and then, slowly, she came to have fun hurting me as she did. To all those who comment - anonymously, of course - on Literotica saying I should dump the bitch, my only response is to say that you should ever in your life be so lucky as to find a partner as loving, caring and willing to try new things as Sally. And, I might add, so lucky as to find as caring lover and friend as Ted is. And as for our marriage, your concern is misplaced. Married over 31 years, more in love than ever, and every single sexual fantasy I have is about my wife. Actually, that's not true: every time I jerk off I think about my wife, but it's never fantasy - I just replay reality! I give all this as preface to prepare for my story, which happened in October. I suggest you read the previous chapter, "The Towel Waver," before this one, as I pick up immediately after that date. Once again, if you're a cuckold, I hope you enjoy our experiences. If you are someone who is so sexually insecure that you get off on writing screeds to people who live different (and more exciting?) lives than you, I'm sure you'll love what I have to say :-) Right after Ted and Sally's September date, life got in the way big time. Between ailing parents and massive work obligations, our attention was diverted the minute we got in the car to drive home from Pennsylvania that afternoon. Sure, I masturbated LOTS over the following weeks, replaying the details of my humiliation in front of the two of them, but Sally and I didn't have a minute to talk about it together. Two weeks went by, and my insecurities began to rear their ugly heads. Was she not talking about it because we went too far? Was it difficult for her to deal with the way I shamed myself in front of them, and the way she and Ted cuckolded and laughed at me? I love our cuckold relationship, but I love Sally more... had we gone too far this time? Finally, we had a minute - literally a minute - alone together when it wasn't 2 a.m. I said, "Look, I know we've been really busy, but are you upset with what happened last time? Was it too much?" Sally looked surprised, and I could see her reviewing the past two weeks. "God, no, it wasn't too much at all. We've just both been so busy, there hasn't been time to talk or play. But don't worry - I really had fun!" "You had fun with Ted, or you had fun laughing at me?" I asked. "Both!" she said, without a moment's hesitation. "It wasn't... you know, too much? Seeing me like that?" "You mean seeing you kneel beside the bed and play with yourself while I sucked Ted's cock? Making you say you're not a man, and he is? Nope, not too much at all. "It was FUN." She then ran off to her next commitment, and I pulled down my pants and played with myself until I came, replaying her words over and over. Fucking Ted was fun, and laughing at me was FUN, too. I came really, really hard. I came hard the next day, and that day after that, too. In fact I came hard every day until it was time to stop cumming to get ready for their next date. We were back to our normal schedule - going to the hotel the night before and me waking Sally up with breakfast in bed when it was time for her to get ready for her lover. Ted told us the day before that he would have to leave at noon, so he planned to arrive at 9 a.m. sharp. Traffic always seems to delay his arrival, so Sally asked me to wake her at 8, feeling sure that would be plenty of time for breakfast and "preparations." Ted arrived at 8:45. He said he was sorry he had to leave at noon, so he wanted to "take advantage of every moment I have with my girlfriend." I opened the door to our suite when he knocked, and sat with him while Sally finished getting dressed (sort of) and ready. That time is always odd for me: Ted is a really great guy, and is a true friend to me as well as to Sally, so part of the conversation is very relaxed and casual. But the huge, unspoken truth is that he's there to have a date in bed with my wife, and she is as anxious for it as he is. So we talk and he only occasionally smirks at me, the cuckold husband whose wife only fucks her lover. When Sally entered, there were two sharp intakes of breath: from Ted and from me. She wore a halter-top black negligee with a single string tied behind her neck, black matching panties and a short black, sheer robe. Her hair was beautiful, her makeup accented her amazing eyes, and her breasts were just about popping out of her top. It's funny how, even after all these years, I had a moment of "Oh my God, you can't dress like that now - there's another man here!" But that feeling lasted only until she crossed the living room to where he had gotten to his feet, because the moment they met they held and kissed each other like... well, like lovers. And then I remembered: I brought her here so she could fuck him. She's dressed exactly as she should be - at least until she's not dressed at all. In spite of Ted's anticipated early departure, they sat on the couch and talked for about six years. Actually it was 15 minutes but, well, if you think chatting casually alone with Ted is awkward for me, you have NO idea what it's like to be-there-but-not-be-there while Ted and Sally catch up, make out and do what lovers do before heading to bed together. Ted showed his appreciation for Sally's flimsy negligee by gently caressing her breasts and occasionally squeezing her nipples as they sat close and talked, and Sally's hand drifted down to the front of his pants several times. Finally they decided it was time, so Sally gave me our now-customary, "Here's a tiny sample of what I'm about to give him" kiss and off they went. Last time she had undressed him in front of me; the time before that, he had undressed her. This time it was clear that they were there for each other, and when they left for the bedroom there was no hesitation about leaving me behind. As I related in the previous chapter, I was okay with that. In the past I might have obsessed for a while over what I didn't get to see, but now I'm not just "okay" with the fact that my job is to bring her to him; I'm happy about it. I've decided to be the best possible cuckold I can be, to do everything I can to make sure they have a good time together and to take my pleasure in the psychological pain which cuckolding brings. As soon as I heard the bedroom door click shut I pulled off my pants and underwear, grabbed a chair, placed it outside the bedroom door and sat down. I coated my penis with Vaseline and began to enjoy my part in their sex: being allowed to listen at the door, and being ready to do whatever they ask - IF they ask anything. I heard the sound of Ted's belt buckle, then a gasp, and I knew his cock was already in my wife's mouth. Thinking back to their previous date, when Ted humiliated me - and made me humiliate myself - while Sally sucked his cock right in front of me, my penis hardened in record time. I could picture it, since I had seen it up close and personal just last month. You know how you THINK you know something, but then when you actually see it you realize how wrong you were? It turns out I was wrong. When I pictured what was going on behind the door it was somehow more like a slightly gauzy-focused porn video, not real flesh-and-blood humans touching each other's bodies. How do I know I got it wrong? Because just a few minutes into their sex, Ted called me to come in. I jumped to my feet and opened the door, trying not to slam it in my excitement. I LOVE when they call me in, whatever it is for! But the minute I entered the room I was confronted with reality, not fantasy. Ted - A MAN - was lying naked on the bed in front of me. I saw his naked feet, his hairy legs and torso, his pubic hair, his hairy balls. What I could not see was his cock, since it was in my wife's mouth - my now-naked wife's mouth. Apparently my entrance had been perfectly timed, as Sally had just swallowed his cock and his mouth fell open as he groaned with pleasure. He looked at me and smiled, then said, "We wanted you to see what you're missing." Sally looked up at me standing over her - over them. She blinked to acknowledge my presence but continued to make love to Ted's cock. He moaned and his body shook, and when she pulled her mouth off him I saw that he was completely hard. I couldn't take my eyes off the sight of my wife, naked, sucking on her lover's erection and looking straight at me. I watched her kiss and lick the head, then lick up the length of his shaft, then open her mouth and swallow him again. "Bareback" doesn't begin to describe the sight of her mouth on the skin of his cock. "Do you see her looking at you, Paul?" Ted asked. I nodded. "Her mouth is full right now, but that look means she doesn't want to do this with you... EVER. But she wanted you to see how she looks when she's enjoying sex." I started to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. She really did look like she was having fun: she was getting off on sucking her lover's cock, and she was getting off on showing me. I could see it in her face, even though her mouth was full of penis. She continued to look at me, smiling at me with her beautiful eyes as she kissed, licked and sucked her lover's erect cock. Then with a wave of her hand (it's not polite to speak with your mouth full) she made it clear that she wanted me to leave. NOW. I SO wanted to stay; it had been less than a minute, and I wanted to see more. But Sally's gesture left no doubt and no room for discussion, so remembering my pledge to be a good cuckold I thanked them both for letting me see, and backed out of the room. As I closed the door I heard him cry out with pleasure. I didn't know what she had just done to him, but I knew how she was making him feel - there was no doubt about that. Afterward, he told me that the minute I left the room she "got on top of me and rode me. It was amazing how wet she was, and how much she wanted to fuck me when you left." Having heard the sounds he made, I had no reason to doubt his description of what had happened. I sat down in my chair and masturbated as hard as I could without cumming. I thought about what I had just seen and what Sally told me last time - that it was fun sucking his cock, and fun having me watch. Even though she hadn't let me watch very long this time, I now knew she thought it was fun to let me see her suck her lover's cock. She knew it hurt me to be treated this way, and she knew I loved it. My wife has fun hurting me. MY WIFE HAS FUN HURTING ME! She never asked if it hurt too much. She didn't have to. She knew it hurt just enough... just enough that it excited all three of us. And then she sent me away so she could go back to giving her full attention to her lover, knowing that that, too, would hurt me... just enough. He came. Hard. Of course he knew I would hear: he says I'm just irrelevant to them when they are making love, but I have to believe there is at least a little sadistic pleasure in having a man hear you cum in his wife. I've said it before, and it's hard to explain, but I nearly cried - and I nearly came. We all know that Sally gives me only one mercy fuck a year, and even that doesn't have any of the raw, sexual passion she reserves for her lover. But time after time I sit outside the bedroom door and play with my little penis while Ted fucks her and cums in her. In her pussy, in her mouth, in her hand... He knows it hurts me, and he says he doesn't care. But he makes sure I hear each of his orgasms, and he says it's great that his feeling so good makes me feel so bad. They were quiet, and I heard Sally's pocket rocket start to hum. Tiny gasps make their way through the door, accompanied by Ted's soft voice encouraging her. I don't know what he said, I don't know exactly what they did, but I know he was helping her feel good. I thought of all the times Sally played with her vibe at home while I sat nearby, talking to her without seeing or touching her. When it takes a long time for her to get off she says, "I wish Ted was here to get me over," and I always say I understand. Now he was here, and he was helping her get over. I'm disappointed in myself that I can't even help my wife get off. I know we tried for years - SHE tried for years - but once she got comfortable with Ted she learned how her body responds when she's in bed with a real man. She usually cums very quickly with him, but even when it takes her a while he never tires of making love to her. He makes her feel good, and feel good about herself, in ways I never could. I really wish I could, but now I take perverted satisfaction in bringing her to him so he can give her what she deserves. Which means that this part of their lovemaking also hurts me - and feels good to her. I KNOW it feels good to her, because I hear it now, sitting outside the door. Her whimpers grow in volume and frequency, interspersed with moans and soft words of affection for her lover. Then, always, there is a silence: the silence as her body approaches, stands on and then goes over the edge. I have related before how Ted feels that Sally's orgasms are her most precious gift to him. He has also told me that they should hurt me more than anything else, because they are an intimate experience she shares only with him. As he put it, "everything else is mechanical. But when she cums for me it is completely personal." After the silence, she came for him. I sat there, trying to be quiet, while my wife came in her lover's arms. Each cry, each slap as her body slammed down on the bed, each grunt as her muscles spasmed and pushed her breath out of her felt like a knife in my stomach. I was hard as a rock, jerking off like mad, and it HURT SO MUCH! Once again, my wife was having fun hurting me. I've asked her many times how it feels to cum with Ted, knowing I'm right outside the door hearing everything. Her basic answer is that when she cums she doesn't think about anything except him, her and how it feels to cum, but she's acknowledged more and more that she really likes knowing I'm listening when she forgets about me. When I tell her it hurts to hear her cum she says, "It should." It did. I heard Ted get my wife "over" in just a couple of minutes - far faster than she ever gets off at home. I heard her cum - HARD - and I heard him kissing her and encouraging her all the way. When she finally finished - yes, I heard each of the "aftershocks," too - they were quiet again, until they asked me to bring them their coffee from the living room. If you would, please back up from this scene for a moment and take in the Big Picture. Having brought my wife to a hotel in Pennsylvania, I opened the door and invited her lover to come in. They sat and kissed in front of me, then told me they were going to bed together. I sat outside the door and listened as my wife made passionate love with another man, and I hear them each have a screaming orgasm. Then they asked me to bring them coffee. My response was, "Do you want me to reheat it first?" No, I'm not proud of that. I'm excited as hell by it, but I'm not proud of it. How could I be? They said it was fine as it was, so I wiped just enough of the Vaseline off my hand to be able to grip the two cups. I knocked on their door - it is, after all, THEIR door - and they told me to come in. Sally was on her back, with the sheet covering her only to her waist. Her magnificent tits were exposed, and Ted was staring at them. He was lying on top of the sheet, completely naked; his half-erect cock giving me a one-eyed glare as if I had no business barging in on their sex. I handed each of them their coffee, being careful not to confuse which belonged to whom - certainly not because of any concern over them getting each other's germs, but because Sally takes milk in hers and Ted doesn't. My hand automatically returned to my penis when I handed them the coffee, and I stood there stupidly playing with myself while they drank. Her tits, his cock, their naked bodies, their kisses exchanged openly between sips of their drinks... I tried to assimilate it all, but it overwhelmed me. I was just beginning to get into a rhythm when Sally gave me the same wave-of-the-hand she had used earlier to dismiss me. I guess I whined a little when I said, "You want me to leave NOW?" Ted looked at me with a combination of annoyance and pity. "You can't stay here, Paul," he said in a very firm tone. "This isn't your place." And with that he nodded in the direction of my chair in the hallway. I felt like a child dismissed from the grownups' conversation, and I guess that wasn't so far from the truth. I hung my head, turned for the door and followed my pointing penis out of THEIR room, closing the door softly behind me. What followed was a quiet time, as I expected. Lovers lying together, talking together. I know from what I've seen and what I've been told that their hands never leave the other's body when they are in bed together. Ted caresses my wife's breasts, glides his hands over her arms, legs and torso while they talk. And to Ted's constant delight, my wife is unable to keep her hands off his cock. Even when it's soft she touches and strokes it, stopping only to hold his balls or play with his nipples. It is hours of constant sexual arousal meant to impress no one; just lovers enjoying each other and... having fun. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 31: Having Fun Of course, that kind of fun seems to lead to sex. And so it did, as I heard Sally gasp suddenly - the special gasp she makes when a cock slides into her pussy. Ted sucked in his breath in response, and followed that with a series of short grunts which anyone on earth would know were the sounds of a man fucking a woman. Not two minutes into their fucking, Ted called to me to come in. When I opened the door I saw sex: raw, uncensored sex. Sally was lying on her back with a pillow under her head. Her legs were spread wide. Ted was on his knees between my wife's open legs, and his hips were moving back and forth, back and forth. They were FUCKING. I started to say something - I have no idea what - but Sally said, "Be QUIET. Shut up, and just LISTEN." I shut up and listened. What I heard was the sound of my wife's pussy squishing with each thrust of her lover's cock. The sounds were so obscene I nearly lost it right there, but there was more to those sounds than just good sex. "Oh, my God," I stuttered. "What do you hear, Paul?" my wife asked, as her lover continued to FUCK her in front of me. "You're SO WET," I said, nearly in tears. "Yes, I am. Now go away," she said. Her words left no more room for discussion than the earlier wave of her hand, so I backed out of the room, thanking them both again for letting me see sex. For those who have read the earlier chapters of my Diary, you know that one of the most humiliating things for me is how my wife always gets wet for Ted, and never did for me. I really mean never; I don't think there was once in our lives together that we were able to fuck without using lubricant. Yet Sally and Ted don't even HAVE lubricant with them when they go to bed, and Ted marvels at how wet she is for him every single time. He loves how her body says it wants him, and he takes some pleasure in telling me about it since he knows she never responded to me that way. Now I sat in my chair, listening to them fuck, and hearing the squish-squish-SQUISH of my wife's pussy playing over and over in my memory. Of course, Ted came. They were on the side of the bed nearest the door, so his bellowed orgasm seemed to come from right in front of me. I thought - actually, I wondered - how good it must feel for him to fuck my wife when her pussy is gushing for him, and I guessed I got a pretty good idea from the sounds he made as he came in her. Her vibrator started almost instantly, and her second orgasm seemed to explode a minute later. I sat quietly as a man and a woman - a man and my wife - had sex together and gave each other the pleasure I could never provide. I wasn't sad; as I explained in the previous chapter this, too, felt right. I brought my wife to her lover, I did everything I could to make them comfortable as they fucked, and I sat quietly playing with my penis as they made love together. I'm the Towel-Waver, and as I furiously stroked my little penis I felt satisfied. Hurt, and satisfied. But they weren't done with me. And what they did next blew my mind. Following a respectable period of time after Sally came, they called me to come in again. (If you ask how long a "respectable period of time" before calling in the husband is, I honestly can't tell you. I assume Emily Post wrote about it, but I haven't had the opportunity to consult her.) They were lying in bed together, cuddling and kissing. I watched for a minute, then asked if there was something they wanted; after all, they had called me in. Sally said, "No, we just thought you'd like to stand there for a while," as she wrapped her arms around her lover and kissed him gently on the lips. I didn't say anything because it would have come out as gibberish. I stood there and masturbated while they kissed, then kissed again. Ted's left hand slid down to Sally's right breast and he gently caressed it as he looked deep into her eyes. Without even looking at me he said, "I love your wife's tits," and he lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked. She closed her eyes, sighed and kissed the top of his head. They let me stand there for at least 10 minutes. I know I made a few involuntary noises as I was as close to cumming as I've ever been, but I did my best to be silent and watch the lovers cuddle. They obviously knew I was there, but there was nothing about their actions that seemed forced, or a performance. They simply called me in to see how they hold each other after sex. At one point Ted rested his head on Sally's breast, kissing her flesh gently as he lay there. I've always been in love with my wife's breasts, and seeing him do that was unbearable. "That hurts so much," I said softly. My wife held his head to her breast and said equally softly, "It should." When Ted reluctantly said he had to leave, Sally told me to leave so they could say goodbye. I stumbled out to the living room and sat on the floor; I just didn't feel I should sit on a chair when Ted came out, because we are not equals. He emerged in a few minutes, dressed to leave, and told me that Sally wanted to sleep for a half-hour. I said I wouldn't disturb her, and I thanked him for everything. I thanked him for fucking my wife for me, I thanked him for giving her what I never could, and I thanked him for inviting me in each of those times. "None of those were my idea," he said. "Each of those invitations was your wife's idea." I masturbated even harder as he continued, "I got SO hard, SO fast with her today. And when I was just about to burst she said, 'Let's show him,' so I called you in. It didn't matter to me - all I could think about was the wonderful job she was doing on my cock. "Later, when we were fucking and I said how deliciously wet she felt and sounded, she said, 'I want him to hear this.' It was completely her idea." "And at the end, when you were cuddling together? Was that her idea, too?" I gasped out. "Absolutely. In fact, she didn't even ask me that time. We were just enjoying each other's company, each other's body, and she called to you. Again, I didn't care; you were the one standing there playing with yourself; I had your luscious wife's naked body in my arms." "It hurt SO much when you put your head on her breast," I confessed. "I saw that," he said with just a hint of superiority. "All I can say is that it didn't hurt US at all." And with that, he said goodbye and left. I sat on the floor and tried to take in everything that had happened. I had been cuckolded, hurt, humiliated. I had "waved the towel" while another man gave my wife sexual pleasure and fulfillment that I had never, ever given her, and I had thanked him for fucking her for me. But something new had been introduced in the last two dates: my wife made it clear that she didn't just have fun with her lover she also had fun doing it to me. SHE chose to call me in to see her sucking her lover's cock, making him groan and shake with pleasure as she took his penis in her mouth. She knew it would hurt me to see it, and she wanted to do it. SHE wanted me to hear how wet her pussy was for Ted's cock. She knew I never made her wet, and it would hurt me to her it sloshing as Ted fucked her. SHE wanted me to stand there and masturbate while she cuddled with her lover. She knew it would hurt me to see the tenderness, the intimacy, her naked skin on his, and she called me in to show me. Sitting alone on the living room floor, I came so hard I thought I would pass out. I'm not a young man, but my cum shot a foot across the floor - I was glad I had the presence of mind to lay down a towel both to sit on and to cum on! I thought about how I looked to them - to my wife, and to her lover. I thought about my wife saying she doesn't think about me at all when she cums; about Ted saying I am irrelevant to their pleasure; about them calling me in to experience the shame of being cuckolded. It was a shame and excitement and humiliation and stimulation and pain and pleasure-fueled orgasm, and it felt like it went on forever. I may have gone three days without cumming in preparation for this date, but it was an orgasm that was 16 years in the making. I cleaned up, and when 45 minutes had passed I quietly opened the bedroom door. Sally was sleeping on her side facing me, and her left breast was exposed: a slap-in-the-face reminder that she had just gotten laid. I sat next to her and gently kissed her cheek to wake her. She opened her eyes, smiled at me and asked how I was doing. "I'm great," I said. "And I love you. How are you doing?" "I'm good," she answered as she looked at me. "He's a wonderful lover. Are you okay with everything?" "Yes, I am. You hurt me, you know. Ted said it was your idea to invite me in each time." "It was. I wanted you to see... and hear." "You knew it would hurt me, didn't you?" I asked, as I kissed her cheek again. "Uh-huh. I did. It was fun," she said, watching my face to see how I reacted. "What was fun about it?" I asked. Thinking about it now, I realize we were speaking as lovers; not sexual lovers, but people deeply in love with each other. It was, in a word, wonderful to "reclaim" her in this way, even though we both knew she is not mine sexually at all. "I liked showing you how I am with a man. A real man. I wanted you to see that I was never the problem; it was always you." Her words stung, but her tone softened the blow. Actually, it made it hurt just right. "Was it really okay for you?" "It was perfect for me. And when Ted told me it was all your idea, that you wanted to call me in each time, I was SO excited. Thank you, my love. Thank you for hurting me and for having fun doing it." "Oh," she sighed. "It was my pleasure. Will you take me home now?" "That would be MY pleasure," I said. That date was four weeks ago. This Thursday, Ted is coming to our house to spend the afternoon with my wife in our bed. He never asked if I minded, and neither did Sally. But that's okay. I'll have the towels ready for them. So if anyone ever asks me how life is going for Sally and for me, my honest answer would be, "After 32 years of marriage, 16 years as a cuckold and eight years of her fucking only her lover... we're having fun!" Thanks for reading my Diary. It's been a lot of fun sharing my life with you. Sincerely, Cuckold Paul A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 32 A Cuckold's Diary Chapter 44 - "Thank You Both" May 2015 NOTE: This is a CUCKOLD story. It's completely true, and it is about how it feels to be a cuckold and to be cuckolded. If this kind of story bothers you, PLEASE don't read it - it will bother you! If you read it and it bothers you, well... whose fault is that? If you don't understand it, or if you want to know more about cuckolding, I'll be happy to respond to your feedback or emails. But if you read this huge story knowing it will bother you, then would you please take a minute to think about why you are doing that? And as for my decision to put this in the "Loving Wives" section, it's because my wife loves me and I love her. Whether you agree with that or not is actually irrelevant, isn't it? Sincerely, Cuckold Paul *********************** Dear Ted and Sally, Thursday was an amazing day, wasn't it? As I told Sally last night, it was simply perfect, at least for me. She said she loved it, too... and wants more. Ted, When I asked you to give me notice of your arrival so I could pull my pants up, I wasn't fishing for permission to be undressed when you arrived. In fact, when you texted back saying, "I don't think you should. It is a cuckold's lot in life to be humiliated and to forever have their dick in their hands, not in their wife," it took me about 5 minutes before I could build up the courage to show your text to Sally. She was getting ready, so she told me to read it to her... so yeah, I actually read it to her. When she heard what you said, she said it was fine with her. So I pulled down my pants, sat in the chair facing the couch, applied the Vaseline, and jerked off while we waited for you. When she was all ready for you she sat on the couch, reading, and every so often she looked over at me. She didn't exactly laugh, but she sort of smirked. I was really embarrassed, but looking at her in that negligee, thinking about what we were doing there and what she was going to do with you, I just couldn't stop. Then out of nowhere she said, "You know, I don't have to work at loving you. I just love you." Sally, I can't begin to describe how good that made me feel. I realized that even after all these years I never articulated my nagging suspicion that you resented me for being this way, and having you say you loved me while I sat and masturbated in front of you while you waited for Ted was... amazing. I felt loved and accepted, and at that moment I stopped worrying about what I would see, or what you would share with me during your date. I felt I could just BE a cuckold. Throughout the day I didn't care that you - both of you - saw me hard and playing with myself while you had your date, and I didn't care when you locked me out of the room. Actually, I DID care... and it felt right. I didn't know what you would choose to show me, and I didn't worry about it, either. Oh, I don't think I would have been happy if you excluded me completely, but that wasn't even my thought. I knew that you love me and would show me how much you love sex with a real man, and I knew that you, Ted, would not object. So I was good. Things got insane from work the minute we left the hotel after your date, and on Thursday night Sally said she was, literally, "fucked out." Having been close by when it happened, I could hardly disagree. So when I got home Friday night I asked if we could talk, and she said yes. I asked if she wanted to play, or just to talk while I jerked off. She came downstairs in her Victoria's Grandmother night shirt, which answered my question. I sat on the floor facing her and started to jerk off. I told her how much her words meant to me, and how they made me feel. Then I said I needed to know one thing from her, and I wanted her to answer honestly because it's a missing piece for me. I asked her to picture the scene when we were waiting for you - when she said she loved me. She took a minute, then nodded that she was picturing it. I asked her what she saw when she looked at me then. Of course, she was also looking at me at that moment, sitting naked on the floor and jerking off, which is the only sex I get. She said, "You're pathetic. You should be ashamed of yourself, but you're not. At least, you're not ashamed enough to stop." "But you love me, and it's not work?" "Yes, I love you. And no, it's not work. I just love you." "So how do you love me if you think I'm pathetic when it comes to sex?" It took a while for this answer... "I compartmentalize well." I sat there on the floor, completely naked, and masturbated while my wife watched me and smiled at me. I told her about all the things that excited me while she was with you, and finally I came while she looked at me. Once again she didn't exactly laugh, but she made sure I understood that she loved me... and thought I was pathetic. Sally, you know that I don't compartmentalize AT ALL. So here is what I have been thinking about ever since that experience. It's what I think about when I'm working, when I'm resting, when I'm eating, when I'm playing with myself, when I'm sleeping... yes, I've woken up most every night, or at least every morning, picturing some part of what I'm about to say. Sally and Ted, I want to thank you - both of you. I'm not going to pull any punches here because you both know who and what I am, and how much it turns me on to be cuckolded by the two of you. I hope you find this interesting, or at least amusing. For me it's cathartic to write it; maybe this way I can stop holding every single event in my mind at the same time, since I know it's written down and preserved. Sally, I hope you'll read it when you want to open that compartment for a little fun. Ted, being a guy, I hope you'll read it often when you want to get off remembering sex with your girlfriend. Here we go. And THANK YOU BOTH. Ted, thank you for telling me to go get you coffee when you arrived. I know I texted asking you to grab a cup on your way to the room since I was naked and jerking off as you instructed, but it really excited me to be told to do that for you. I like that you feel you can tell me to run errands for you while you make out with my wife, and I am so excited that Sally sees you order me around... and sees me obey. Whether it is having to put my pants on to go get you coffee, or being sent out to get lunch for the two of you while you lie naked in bed together, it makes me feel good to have you tell me what to do. When I went for your coffee I wasn't gone long, but when I opened the door to our suite I saw you sitting on the couch with your pants around your knees and my wife sucking your cock. I don't know if you heard me say "ouch," but I actually spilled the hot coffee all over my hand as I tried to come in, close the door and not lose it completely at the sight in front of me. When I put down your coffee and pulled down my pants again, you started to tell me how good Sally was making you feel. You told me I would never know how good it felt, and of course you are right: I never responded well to having my cock sucked because I never thought I deserved it. And we both know that Sally LOVES to suck your cock, because you DO respond to everything she does. Thank you for telling me to come close, to see what my wife was doing to you. I didn't want to get in the way, but I got on my knees and was about two feet away from you, where I had a very clear view of what my wife was doing. I really appreciate your telling me to get so close so I could see everything. Thank you, Sally, for not missing a beat when I came back to the room and got close. I saw you sucking his cock, running your fingers along it and gently caressing his balls. I know you were showing me how you turn your lover on... you made sure I saw every stroke, every touch, every kiss you gave his cock as he moaned and shuddered at your touch. I saw you take your mouth off his cock and without even a glance at me you said, "I want THIS" before opening your mouth wide and swallowing him. It was SO exciting to hear you tell me - tell both of us - that you want his cock, especially since we all know that you don't want mine. Ted, thank you for pulling Sally's negligee off her shoulders, exposing her tits for you (and me) to see. I know you've done it for years, but seeing you looking at my wife's naked breasts is one of the most humiliating things that has ever happened to me. I know I should stop you, but we all know I'm not going to do that. Just the thought that YOU are showing ME my wife's tits drives me wild, as I know that seeing them drives you wild, too. Of course, you get to do much more than just see them... Sally, thank you for guiding Ted's cock between your breasts and titty-fucking him. And thank you, THANK YOU, for turning to me and saying, "I don't think I need lunch today; I've got a sandwich right here" as I watched Ted slide his cock back and forth between your naked tits. I've never seen you do that before, and I loved it! (Ted seemed to be pretty happy with it, too.) And Sally, my dear, beloved, loving wife, thank you for the kiss you gave me as you got up to go to bed with your lover. I always love kissing you, but we both know that the kiss you give me when you're on your way to bed with Ted is different. That one time you let me feel how it feels when you kiss a MAN, communicating that you want him to fuck you. We both know that the kiss doesn't mean you want ME to do that, but it's something special you give me once each date, as a reward for watching you kiss him that way... again and again. That kiss is sexual, aggressive and uninhibited, and it takes my breath away every time because you show me how you would kiss me if I were a real man. So thank you for giving me a taste - literally - of what you give him. You went into the bedroom together, but I didn't hear the door close. As fast as I could, I dragged a chair from the table to the hallway outside your bedroom. The door was nearly closed, but it was open enough for me to hear the sounds of Ted undressing... or was it Sally undressing Ted? Whichever it was, I rubbed my little penis as I listened to the two of you getting naked. Then, Ted, you appeared at the door. You were completely naked, and as always I had that momentary jolt as I thought how inappropriately you were dressed to be in a room with my wife. Of course, I immediately realized that you were dressed just the way Sally wants you, and as that thought sank in you said, "I'm gonna take care of your wife, and your wife is gonna take care of me, and we're going to feel VERY good." You didn't need to say that, Ted, and I am very grateful that you did. You made me acknowledge to you, and to myself, that I was going to sit there and jerk off while you had sex with my wife. Just on the outside chance that I might think you were only going to talk, you stood there with your hard cock pointing at me and TOLD me that you were going to fuck my wife... and that it was going to feel really, really good to both of you. Then you closed the door in my face, and you fucked my wife. I thank you for that because it helped me understand why I sat outside the closed bedroom door for so long that morning. You made clear what was going to happen, and then I sat there and played with myself while it did. I heard you fuck my wife - long before you groaned, I heard her make the sounds she only makes when she is being fucked - when YOU are fucking her. I heard my wife feel VERY good as you slid your cock in and out of her; I didn't see any of it, but I knew it was happening. I also knew you didn't cum, because the noises stopped and then I heard the sound of her Pocket Rocket starting up. I need to thank both of you for what happened next. Ted, thank you for giving my wife what I never could, and making her feel like the woman she really is. Thank you for knowing how to make love to her, and for knowing how to touch, caress and hold her to turn her on. Bottom line, thank you for making my wife feel so good that she let go and came in your arms... for the first time that day. I sat outside the door and heard it - I heard you encouraging her, I heard you getting excited as she got excited, and I heard you thank her as she came. We are so fortunate to have found a man who can do all this for my wife! Sally, I need to thank you, too. Thank you for letting go - not just letting go and cumming, but for letting go of all the inhibitions and conditioning which made it so hard for you for so long. Thank you for letting me be nearby when you go to bed with your boyfriend, for knowing and accepting me to the point where you can fuck another man, and for knowing how much it will turn me on to hear you cum in his arms. You will never know how it feels to sit outside your closed bedroom door and hear you orgasm with HIM, but you do know that I feel your love even then. In fact, when you came I could hear your words: "You know, I don't have to work at loving you. I just love you." So thank you both for making me nearly cum and nearly cry at the same time. It was well over a half an hour from Ted's last taunt until he spoke to me again. "Paul, come in here," he said, so I got up and opened the door. What I saw was you, Sally, lying naked on your back with your legs spread wide, and Ted between your legs... fucking you. As I came into the room and tried to take in the scene in front of me, Ted said, "She wanted you to see this." That was the first time that day that I thanked both of you... for inviting me in to see you fuck. And how could I NOT thank you? You let me see SEX - really, really GOOD sex - since I've never known how to do that myself. Sally, I saw you completely naked: your breasts exposed, your very hard nipples pointing up at Ted, your legs spread wide so he could be deep inside your body. As I stared at you, Ted actually said what I was thinking: "Doesn't she look beautiful like this?" I said yes, you looked beautiful like this. And about halfway through that short sentence I realized that Ted was asking me if I thought his girlfriend looked beautiful while she was fucking him. *I* was the outsider at the moment. *I* was the one being called in for a "second opinion" on how beautiful you looked, because at that moment the couple was Sally and Ted, not Sally and Paul. But, Sally, you really DID look beautiful... as you always do, but different. I always love seeing you naked, but you weren't JUST naked: you were naked, and excited, and sexy, and feeling good, and feeling like a woman. And I don't get to see you like that very often because I don't make you feel like that. You looked fulfilled, in the real sense of the word: full, and filled, with a man. When you told me to leave, I couldn't argue. I was so excited that you let me see you like that, that all I could do was start toward the door. But Ted wasn't done humiliating me yet, so as I started to retreat he looked at me (for the first time, because even when he spoke to me earlier he didn't take his eyes off you) and said, "Paul, would you like a close-up look before you go?" WTF? Was he really asking me if I wanted to see, close-up, how his cock was going in and out of my wife? Did he really think I would stoop so low as to admit that my little penis would get even harder if I saw him fucking my wife? "Yes, please," was all I could muster as a response. Without missing a beat - or a stroke - he leaned back so I could look. Yes, he really did give me the chance to see him fucking you, and yes, I really did look. I stood there without a speck of dignity and played with myself as I watched his cock sliding in and out, in and out of my wife's pussy. Sally, I heard you moan with pleasure, I heard Ted groan as his cock was caressed by your insides, and I shuddered as I stood there and... looked. "NOW it's time for you to leave. I WANT you to leave us alone," you said. I think I said "thank you" about half a dozen times as I backed up toward the door, unable to take my eyes off my own cuckolding. I closed the door, sat in my chair and as I tried to assimilate what had just happened, I heard you, Ted, cum in my wife. I didn't see it. I didn't need to see it. You had showed me how you fuck, you had invited me to get a close-up look at fucking, and then, after telling me to leave, Sally made you cum. In her. I remembered what you said: "We're going to feel VERY good." As I listened to you orgasm in my wife's pussy, it was clear that she was, indeed, taking care of you. Just as you were taking care of her. And I was sitting outside and playing with myself, since I can't take care of her like that. Just a few seconds after you finished making orgasm-sounds, I heard the Pocket Rocket start up again. We all know that Sally never came more than once in a day with me, and here you were offering her the chance for a second orgasm in an hour. I knew better than to think it was impossible because it was only impossible with me; sure enough, in just a little while she came again. I sat as quietly as I could, given how close I was to cumming from the incredible sounds of her pleasure, and as I listened I couldn't help thinking that this was just about perfect: the two of you having really good, really fulfilling sex together, and me sitting outside, listening and masturbating. Not long after you finished that second round of sex, Sally came out to use the bathroom. My love, no matter what has gone on before that, when you come out and see me sitting "with my dick in my hand" I'm always ashamed. I assume that's one of the moments you have to compartmentalize, because you're not in the middle of sex with Ted; you're walking by me, completely naked, and I am sitting there with an erection from listening to you fuck him. You smile at me in a way that conveys both love and pity, and leave me sitting there as you close the bathroom door. I know what I look like to you then, and I am so, SO grateful that you love me - that you CAN love me - when you see me like that. Ted, in the caricature of cuckolding which calls itself commercial porn, the "bull" (I hate that word!) abuses the cuckold verbally or physically, or both. You, however, are a gentleman, even when you call me in to tell me how wonderful it is to fuck my wife and how good you make each other feel. You stroke your cock, which never seems to get completely soft when you're with her, even after you cum, and you tell me what I'm missing, what I've lost, and what I never had. This time you talked about how good my wife's pussy tastes, and you asked if I know that taste. I had to admit that I really don't because a) she never wanted me to go down on her, and b) the few times I did, she was never wet - since she only gets wet for you. So you told me how sweet she tastes, and how hard you get when you lick her. Then you described how she felt each time (!) she came in your arms, and when you looked for agreement on how exciting she is when she lets go I had to remind you that she doesn't allow me to lie with her, or even watch her, when she cums at home. "Oh, that's right," you said as your cock got harder and you suppressed a laugh. Sally, that was when you came back to bed. To HIS bed. You walked right by me, and on all fours you crawled across the bed and kissed Ted. As you kissed him you settled into the bed like a cat settling in for the night, and you gave me the privilege of seeing you completely naked, from head to toe: hair, back, ass, legs and feet, as you continued to kiss you lover. Of course, your hand reached for his cock and took over stroking it as if I wasn't there... or, more accurately I guess, because I WAS there and you wanted me to see how much it didn't matter to you. You only stopped when Ted said, "I think it's time for Paul to get us lunch, don't you?" With that you flipped onto your back, lying naked with your lover and exposed in front of your husband - your cuckold husband. You both discussed what you wanted to eat as casually as you would in front of a waiter in a restaurant, as if it was completely natural to send your husband to get lunch so you could spend every minute together in bed. Come to think of it, it WAS natural; while I used to worry about missing something, this time I felt good about being able to do something nice for the two of you. And yes, as I said earlier, I was excited that Ted would give me orders and that you would see me obey without complaint. You know I'm not one to take orders from almost anyone, so I assume that this was just one more illustration of how I feel about myself when you are with him. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 32 Walking into the SaladWorks, trying my best to get your orders right (I wasn't going to stop masturbating to write them down, so I HAD to remember), I felt like everyone knew. When I ordered two salads, each to your specifications, I wondered how the people around me could possibly not see that they were not for me and you, or for me and a co-worker; it seemed to obvious that they were for my wife and her lover. Stupid, I know, but the experience of actually being cuckolded is so overwhelming that it felt like I had a Scarlet C painted on my back... and front. I didn't race. Honest, I actually felt comfortable doing this errand, and knowing that the two of you were in bed together while I was out. Were you kissing, or touching each other's body, or fucking? I didn't know, but instead of feeling like I was missing something I just felt like doing this for you was part of being a cuckold and part of being cuckolded. I know so many cuckolds who are never allowed to watch, or even to be in the same place when their wife is on a date, that I felt wonderful about how much you share with me. The least I could do is get you lunch and give you time to be alone together. When I returned to our suite at the hotel I laid out the lunch in the dining area and quietly knocked on the bedroom door - YOUR bedroom door - and told you lunch was ready. Sally, you came out first, slipping your robe over your shoulders because... well, because it wouldn't be proper for you to be naked in "public," would it? You sat at the table and asked how I was, and again I saw the love in your eyes even as you saw me sitting on the couch, masturbating my incredibly hard penis. I said I was doing really, really well, and asked if you were having a good time. You said, "I came twice - did you hear?" and of course I said yes. I thanked you for letting me hear, for letting me see, for... well, for everything, and you said "You're welcome. I'm having a wonderful time and I'm glad you are, too." Then Ted joined you at the table, and the two of you ate your lunch while I sat nearby and jerked off, looking at you. I looked at you looking at him, and I looked at him looking at you - at your eyes, and at your tits which were playing a game of brinksmanship with the flaps of your robe. Ted, I assume you knew that you were sitting with your legs open, so the whole time you sat and talked and ate with my wife I was staring at your cock - at the one cock my wife wants inside her. Thank you for that, too. I realized that while I have no desire to be involved with your cock (another cuckold stereotype), I've probably stared at it more than any other man on earth - both in person and in the couple of videos that the two of you have allowed me to take over the years. Whether you are offering me a close-up look at it sliding in and out of my wife's pussy or just keeping your legs open while you eat lunch with her, your cock is the proof that my cuckolding isn't fantasy, it is reality - OUR reality. The three of us. When you finished lunch it was 1 p.m. We all knew we had to be out at 2, since we had extended our reservation until then and Sally and I both had to get to work. If you had said goodbye then, I would have been completely satisfied with what had happened. But you, Sally, were apparently not yet satisfied. You stood, looked at Ted and said, "I'm going to the bathroom for a minute. Will you meet me in bed?" She walked off, leaving you, Ted, with a smile and a growing cock. I said, "I guess she's not done yet," and you answered, "That's good, because I have something for her." As you made your way to the bedroom I quickly took my place on the chair outside the bedroom door, my penis so hard it actually ached. I watched silently as you got into the far side of the bed, leaving plenty of room for your girlfriend to join you. You started stroking your cock, knowing full well that I was watching. Sally walked by me without a word. She looked at you lying there naked and hard, and slipped her robe off her shoulders. From my vantage point I saw a profile view of my wife as she did this: completely naked, her tits exposed, her nipples hard and pointing at you. That was the last thing I saw before she closed the door in my face and went back to bed with you. The two of you talked for a long time. I knew that Sally had cum twice, Ted had cum once, and you had played for hours, so I understood that you just might want to spend this time naked together before saying goodbye. By 1:30 I assumed the "fun" was over for the day... but I was wrong. I heard Sally's vibrator start up, and the sound shot through me like electricity. Were you really going for THREE in one day? Yes, you were. It took a while, but suddenly I heard the sound of you, Sally, getting close, and you, Ted, encouraging her. I actually got too close to the edge and even though I took my hand away from my penis, a little cum flowed out of me. It was sheer force of will that held off my orgasm as I listened to the two of you and watched a small stream of my semen drip out of my body. Just as I was able to start stroking myself again, I heard my wife cum in her lover's arms... again. Sally, you cried out "OHHHH!" and then you said something I couldn't quite make out. But Ted, you heard her and you called out, "PAUL. Come in here NOW!" I didn't hesitate. I heard the urgency in your voice, and suddenly I realized that Sally had said, "Call him in now." I opened the door and saw you, my wife, cumming. Hard. Really hard. In Ted's arms. Sally, I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I have to say it: I've never seen anyone cum as hard or as violently as you do. Even in all the porn I've watched, no woman ever cums like you. I used to see it all the time; now I see it once a year. But even when I'm sitting outside the bedroom door, or sitting by our bed when you get yourself off, there is nothing in the world like your orgasms. I think they measure on the Richter Scale. When I opened the door I saw you cumming. Your whole body was convulsing: your hips were slamming up and down, your legs were flailing, and as I looked at you I saw your eyes roll completely back in your head. The only parts of you that weren't moving were your tits, because they were anchored: the left one in Ted's mouth as he sucked your nipple, the right one between his thumb and forefinger as he pinched and caressed it. Suddenly I remembered something Ted said to me years ago: when I asked him what should hurt me most about what you did with him, he said it was your cumming. He said that everything else could be seen as "mechanical," even though it wasn't, but the only way you could cum with him is if you let go and give yourself to him. He said he treasured your orgasms above everything else, and I should be ashamed to know that you only want to give them to him. I WAS ashamed. And so damn turned on that I had to stop touching myself to keep from cumming. Especially when I thought that YOU wanted me to see it happen. I watched as you came, and as you rode your aftershocks. As soon as your eyes returned to the front of your head you turned to your lover and kissed him passionately and deeply. And that seemed right, too. Even though you wanted me to see you cum, I knew it wasn't about me. After kissing him for a long, long time, you looked at me and said, "I want you to leave now." I blubbered my thanks. I think I said, "Oh my God, thank you," and I quickly backed out of the room and closed the door. As I sat down in my chair I heard Ted groan, and that seemed right, too. Of course you would thank him for making you feel that good. I don't know what you did to Ted, but he kept groaning. And panting. And gasping. Until finally he made the sound he makes when he cums. Did he cum in you, or on you, or near you? I don't know. It was none of my business. But his orgasm went on forever, and seemed to come from so deep inside him that I knew I had never felt anything like that. And yes, even that seemed right to me. It was now 1:50 - had all of that taken only 20 minutes? I knew we had to leave, so I went back to the living room and recovered my clothes from the places I had tossed them after getting lunch. Ted came out of the bedroom first, dressed and ready to leave. He thanked me for making everything so perfect for both of you and he thanked me for bringing my wife to him, and I thought he would head out the door. But he said, "I need to kiss my girlfriend goodbye." He made one last trip to the bedroom, where I heard you both talk softly, and kiss. Then he came out and I thanked him. Ted, thank you. Thank you for giving my wife what I never could. Thank you for making her feel like a woman, which I never could. Thank you for helping her get over her inhibitions about sex, and for showing her how good she can feel when she fucks a real man... and when a real man fucks her. Thank you, Ted, for understanding that I am her husband: that I love her, that she loves me, and that we both need you to give her what I never could. Thank you for understanding that I am a cuckold, and for throwing me the crumbs that make me long to bring my wife back to you again and again. Sally - my love, my friend, my partner, my soul-mate: thank you. Thank you for taking a risk in 1998 by trying something new, something so out of character for you that to this day I can't believe you did it. Thank you for exploring, for experimenting, for sharing, for communicating, even when it was way, WAY outside your comfort zone. But most of all, thank you for loving me and for saying you don't have to work to love me. I'm a cuckold; I think I was always meant to be outside the door when you have sex with a man. But you know that, and somehow you love me. Do you love me anyway, or do you love me because of it, or do you "just love me"? I don't know, and I don't care. I just love you, too. Thank you. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 33 "I Like What We Do" August 2015 WARNING / ATTENTION / AVISO If you don't like cuckolding, please don't harm yourself or your psyche by reading this. Honest, I'm not joking: this is about cuckolding. So IF you read it and find, to your horror, that it is about cuckolding, feel free to keep your surprise to yourself. As for its placement in "Loving Wives," that is because my wife loves me and I love her. If this does not fit with your understanding of a loving wife, that's fine; see above, and please don't upset yourself by considering something new. FORWARD This is a new chapter in my Diary because I felt this was a new and wonderful development in our marriage. After 32 wonderful years of marriage to Sally, and after more than 17 years as her cuckold, I didn't think it was possible for anything NEW to happen. But leave it to my wife to surprise and delight me yet again! I AM a cuckold. I don't know if I was born this way or came to it at an early age, but I've always known I was meant to be a cuckold. I am an Alpha Male in much of my life, but I'm not in the bedroom. And I never was. For The record, I am very happy with my life. I am deeply in love with my wife, and she is deeply in love with me. The way she acts turns me on WAY beyond anything I've been able to communicate in all the chapters of this Diary. Comments welcomed; flames cheerfully ignored. ***** MY DIARY It was 10 p.m. on Monday as we drove the final few miles to the hotel. Sally's lover, Ted, was scheduled to arrive at 9 the next morning, and we were each thinking our own thoughts. With no preface or introduction Sally said, "I really like what we do. Thank you." I glanced over at her, and saw her smiling at me. Not a mean smile, but a gentle, loving smile. "Thank YOU," I replied. "Thank you for doing this, and for letting me be part of it." "I wouldn't have it any other way. I really DO like what we do, and I feel good about it," she added. I took her hand and we drove the rest of the way in silence. Actually I don't think I could have spoken if I tried, given how astonished I was at what she said. My Good Girl wife - my VERY Good Girl wife - just told me that she likes fucking her boyfriend... and NOT fucking me. That's "what we do," and we've done it for a long, long time now. Her relationship with Ted began over 17 years ago, and this November will mark nine years since she asked if we could stop having sex - and nine years since I agreed. But as you may have read in past chapters of this Diary, Sally "compartmentalizes" with the best of them. From the moment Ted arrives in our hotel room until the moment he leaves, Bad Girl comes out to play; but with the exception of a couple of times a month when she gets off at home using her pocket rocket, Bad Girl is nowhere to be found in our lives. That frustrated me for a long time, until I realized that we each approach sexuality in our own way. Once I accepted that, and saw the way she lets go when she goes to bed with her boyfriend, I decided it worked for me, too. Which is why her comment was so unexpected: yes, we were on the way, but we weren't THERE yet. And yet... I thought back to a conversation we had the previous week. As usual, when we made plans for this date Sally asked me if there was something special I wanted to request. (They don't always give me what I ask for, but they always try. I can't ask more than that, since their dates really are about THEM, not me.) I said I would really like the honor of taking her bra off her as she undressed for him. I have always loved my wife's tits - literally since the first moment I laid eyes on her - and the thought of removing the last item of clothing which separates her tits from her boyfriend turned me on intensely. But there has always been an unspoken "no touching" rule: when she is with Ted, I can sometimes watch but never touch. So I didn't know how she would feel about this venture into their date space. Which is why Sally's response took me aback. She said, "Well, if you take off my bra you'll also need to offer my tits to him." I think I said "Huh???" Remember, we were in solid Good Girl Territory when this conversation took place. Even though she asked me what I wanted, we were at home, dressed and just coming home from work. "Unexpected" doesn't begin to describe what she laid on me with that comment. Sally turned to getting dinner on the table, and nothing more was said. I knew better than to push, and honestly at that moment I wouldn't have known what to push for. While they have always been good about inviting me in to watch certain parts of their sex together, we have all been very comfortable with the boundaries: when Ted arrives, Sally is with HIM, not me. Now she is suggesting that I hold her breasts up for her lover to... to what? To see? To touch? To kiss? A shudder went through me like a shock; Sally saw it, smiled and said nothing. That conversation came back to me as we drove in silence after her unsolicited comment. Hell, who am I kidding? That conversation never left me all week! It wasn't just the thought of being asked to present her breasts to her lover; it was the thought that my wife thought this up on her own, and maybe even wanted me to do it for real... Was Ted's Bad Girl starting to influence my Good Girl? My cuckold soul began vibrating as I wondered if my wife was really able to accept me as I am, and to have me participate actively in my own cuckolding. When we arrived, we learned that all Hampton Inns are not created equal. I had reserved a suite - very important, since Ted and Sally like to tell me to leave the bedroom so they can be alone together. But in Delaware, a "suite" doesn't mean what it means in Pennsylvania. Our suite was one large room with a living area, a bedroom area and an alcove for the sink and microwave. I texted Ted to advise him, and he texted back immediately, "I suppose we can hide you in the bathroom as a last resort." Much as I hoped that wouldn't happen, I wrote back, "Absolutely." In the morning, Sally put on the outfit she had selected for her date: a black bra; black, matching panties; and a short, black, sheer shirt over her bra, open completely in front. I have never gotten used to my wife "dressing" like this for another man, and once again the sight took my breath away. She looked beautiful, sexy... and HIS. The moment Ted arrived, he agreed. I opened the door when he knocked. He entered and, ignoring me completely, he sat on the couch as my wife made her way to him. Before he could stand to greet her she leaned over, kissed him hard and deep, and sat down beside him. RIGHT beside him. She looked at me and said, "Aren't you going to get us coffee? That's your job now that Ted is here." I apologized for being paralyzed by the sight of my wife and her lover together again, and I left to get coffee. I know how each of them likes it, so I didn't need to ask. I did, however, have to stop in the hallway and take a few deep breaths to make the tent in my pants less obvious as I headed for the hotel lobby. I always want to race to get their coffee and return as fast as possible, so I don't miss any of the action - any of my own cuckolding. But I know they want a little time alone together when they first see each other after weeks apart and besides, they laugh at me when I return within 30 seconds. So I made sure to take slow, deliberate steps and slow, deliberate care as I prepared their coffee. It's strange how much I feel like I have a huge CUCKOLD sign on me every time I do this... I can't believe it isn't obvious that I'm getting drinks for my wife and her lover; how could they not know? Of course, no one knows and no one could know, but it is one of the powerful, erotic humiliations of being a willing cuckold. When I returned with their coffee they were still talking. They continued talking. And talking. Yes, there was the occasional kiss or caress, but damn, their conversation went on forever! They talked about work, about family, and a little too much about Ted's dental travails, and all the while I sat in a chair across from them, my semi-hard cock wondering when the action would begin. But every time I started to get impatient I looked at the two of them and realized this was just one way in which Ted is a better lover than I: he takes his time, builds the anticipation for each of them, and romances my wife with his eyes. Damn, he's good. Finally, (actually after about 45 minutes), Sally got up. She said she was going to the bathroom, and suggested that Ted should make his way toward the bed where she would meet him. As the bathroom door closed, Ted walked by me, stood next to the bed and without a thought for the husband in the room, pulled down his pants. He laid them carefully over a chair, and stood with anticipation as he waited for my wife to emerge. Later I would recognize what Ted had done: as the Alpha Male in the room and in our relationship, he was as comfortable taking off his pants in front of me as he would have been if I had not been there. In fact, when we talked afterward he said that most of the time I am "just wallpaper." He didn't say it to be offensive, but just to describe how he felt. He said he actually hadn't given a thought to how I would feel when he started to undress; all he wanted was to be ready for his lover when she came to him. As Ted stood in his shirt and briefs, I sat silently; what else could I do? Sally emerged from the bathroom and went to the sink to wash her hands. An audience of two watched in rapt attention as she leaned over the sink, then turned toward her lover. They walked toward each other, met in the middle and embraced in a passionate hug and an even more passionate kiss. From across the room I could see their tongues dancing together, and their kisses were punctuated with small gasps of pleasure. Barely separating her lips from his, Sally said, "Come do your job." Actually, physically shaking, I walked up behind her and tentatively reached for the collar of her shirt; I felt like even touching her skin would be a violation of their intimacy. But as I pulled the shirt off her shoulders I had to tug gently on her arms - if she didn't unwrap them from his body I couldn't remove the garment. She grudgingly let go of him, just long enough for me to pull it off her arms... but she never stopped kissing him. I placed her shirt neatly on the desk, and now faced the sight of his hands on her naked back as they continued to make out in front of me. It was time. I unhooked my wife's bra, and this time she quickly took a step back from him so I could ease it off her shoulders and off her breasts. I laid the bra on top of her shirt and stood there with no idea what would happen next. "Come on, Paul, you know what you have to do now," my wife said with a wicked smile. She was enjoying this! Neither of them moved. They were standing about a foot apart, facing each other, and it was clear that the next move was mine. Nothing was going to happen until I did what I "had to do." I walked up behind my nearly-naked wife and slipped my arms under hers. I found the underside of her breasts, cradled one in each hand and pointed her nipples toward her lover. Without any hesitation he bent over, took her right nipple in his mouth and began sucking. I don't know how to describe what happened next. Sally's head rolled back a little until it was resting on my shoulder. She was there, but not there: the skin of her cheek touched the skin of my cheek, but my wife was caught up in the feeling of her lover sucking her nipples - first the right one, then the left, then back to the right. I felt her excitement grow. I actually felt her pushing her chest forward, offering her naked tits to her lover. I was closer to my wife than I had been in a long time, but she barely noticed. She was caught up on pleasure - in the pleasure of her lover's mouth on her nipples - as she leaned in to his mouth I felt myself gently pushing her breasts forward, too. WE were offering him her nipples, and as I "did my job" I was overwhelmed by the shame and excitement of what I was doing. I felt no hesitation on Sally's part, no misgivings; as Ted's mouth sent waves of pleasure through my wife's nipples, the fact that her husband was holding up her tits was just, for lack of a better way to put it, "what we do." At that moment I realized that Sally was sharing something she had never shared with me before. She was allowing me to feel what she feels like when she's sexually excited FOR HIM. It was amazing: her body was almost humming with desire, and she was letting me feel it the only way possible. I never made her feel that way, so she wanted me to hold her like this while she was preparing to fuck Ted. Standing there behind her, fully dressed as I held my nearly-naked wife's naked tits out to her partially-dressed lover. I had never done that before, but it felt... right. When he finished (for the moment) with her breasts, he kissed her again on her mouth. To my great surprise she told me to "finish the job," with a quick nod to her panties. Without hesitating I bent over, slid her panties to the floor, and supported her as she stepped out of them. They never stopped kissing as I did my job, and when I finished I stood back to admire my handiwork: my now-completely-naked wife, making out with her lover. It was only when I stood back that I noticed Sally had been busy unbuttoning Ted's shirt. When it fell open she immediately reached for the elastic band of his underwear and slid it off him. Standing up, she wrapped one arm around him again, started kissing him again, and with her free hand she reached out to stroke his cock. I didn't actually see her do that, but his sudden groans of pleasure left no doubt in my mind about what was happening. You know that sound; everyone knows that sound. I never get to MAKE that sound, but I've been in the room often enough to know what it means: my wife's hand is caressing her lover's cock, naked. Skin to skin. The third time he groaned, she told me to leave them alone. Her actual words were, "Go now," and they were accompanied by her leading him by his cock toward the bed. I thanked them both but I knew that even my thank-you was now an unwelcome distraction for the horny couple, so I quickly moved to the far end of the room and into the kitchen alcove. Ted had been kind enough to push a chair into the alcove earlier, making sure there was no line of sight from the chair to the bed. Now, to the sounds of groaning and gasping I quietly pulled off my pants and underwear, laid a towel on the chair and sat down. My penis was hard as a rock, and fortunately I had had the foresight to leave the jar of Vaseline there. Just as I began masturbating I heard the sound Sally makes when Ted slides his cock into her. I didn't know what position they were in, I didn't know exactly what they were doing... but I knew exactly what they were doing. Ted was fucking my wife. My wife was fucking Ted. They were making each other feel very, very good. I know Sally and Ted will read this, but the honest-to-God truth is that I didn't peek into the bedroom even once. Oh, I could have; given the noises they were making I don't think they would have noticed if I drove by in a truck. But I knew the non-suite-suite was a compromise, and I felt it was my part of the deal to be respectful of their privacy even though there wasn't a door they could close on me. I could still feel my wife's tits in my hands as I offered them to Ted; I was given the privilege of undressing her, of standing there as they began to cuckold me. And now I could hear the sounds of my wife fucking her lover. They were so kind to me, so accepting, that the very least I could was to stay in the corner, quietly playing with myself while my wife enjoyed better sex than she ever had with me. I heard them fuck, then change positions, then fuck more, then change positions, then fuck more. I heard Sally's pocket rocket start up, and I heard Ted speaking words of admiration, encouragement and sex to her. It wasn't long at all before I heard the gut-wrenching (for her, and for me) sound of my wife cumming in her lover's arms. She came hard - really hard - and it was all I could do to keep from losing my own load as I listened to her pleasure. In November, 2006, Sally asked me if we could stop having sex. She said she still wanted to fuck me once a year on our anniversary, but Ted had taught her what good sex was and showed her how she would feel when she fucked a real man. With excitement, shame, fear and more excitement, I said I understood - and agreed. Please read the earlier chapters of this Diary to learn how good this agreement has been for both of us, but believe me when I say it has been very, very good for us. So today Ted got to experience the intense, intimate, skin-on-skin sensation of my wife's earth-shaking orgasm, just as I got to do once last March. But he also got to do it several times in March, and April, and May, and June, and July, and today. And today was just beginning. They were quiet for a while. Ted tells me that he knows Sally needs a few minutes to come down from her orgasms (having another man "explain" what my wife likes during sex is a humiliation all its own), and now he was giving her the time she needed. Soon there were whispers, then the rustling of the covers, and then a deep, powerful groan from Ted. Sally was sucking his cock. The groan was followed by a series of short pants, and I nearly pulled my penis off as I masturbated listening to the effect my wife's mouth was having on Ted's sex. My head was spinning, and so I wasn't sure I actually heard right when I thought Ted had called out my name. I stopped stroking myself - hell, I think I stopped breathing - to see whether my wife's lover was really summoning me. When he said my name again I answered RIGHT AWAY, and he told me to come into the room. As I walked toward the bed, a tableau was spread out in front of me: the sheets and covers were thrown to the bottom of the bed, Ted was stretched out on his back with his legs apart. I knew he would be naked, but it was still shocking to me since I hadn't seen him undress completely before I left the room; and my still-naked wife was lying on her side across the bed. Her head was by his cock, her mouth was on his cock, and her right hand was caressing his balls between his outstretched legs. "Watch your wife make love to my cock," he instructed. I stood beside the bed for a minute, then realized that I wanted a better view. Besides that, it felt better - more respectful - for me to kneel in front of them rather than stand over them. I knelt down, never removing my hand from my penis. Here is what I saw. Ted is stretched out in front of me, naked from head to toe. Sally is facing toward me, with nothing between us but another man torso. She looks at me, opens her mouth wide and slides it all the way down Ted's cock without touching it. Never taking her eyes off me, my wife closes her mouth around its target. Ted's body reacts as if he had been shocked, and he says something unintelligible. She holds his sex completely in her mouth and I can see her lips and tongue trying to touch every bit of it, every nerve at once. Slowly she draws her mouth up his cock, pausing to lick around the head as it emerged. I actually saw Ted's cock grow in my wife's hand... and mouth. She did it again and Ted made a sound like "WWWHHHHAAAAKKKKKK!" and his body convulsed. I thought he had cum, but he was just enjoying himself - and my wife. At that moment Sally looked at his cock - and she didn't look at me again. I was given the privilege (I know that word will upset the trolls, so go for it!) of watching my wife suck her lover's cock. Or, as Ted put it, of watching my wife make love to his cock. Watching her - watching THEM - I remembered that I never knew she could make a man feel this good, because I was never enough of a man to do this with her. A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 33 I watched her artistry at sucking cock. She really, really is good at it! She used her lips, her tongue, her right hand on his balls and I saw his reaction in his shaking, groaning and in the growing and reddening of his sex each time she slid it out of her mouth. After a few minutes, Ted gently put his hands on the top of her head; not to force it down on his cock, but to encourage her. Wordlessly (since constant groans don't actually constitute "words") he was thanking her, admiring her and urging her to give him even more pleasure. When he was ready - oh, was he ever ready! - she looked at me again. Still caressing his balls, his cock at attention between her eyes and mine, she smiled at me. There was not a bit of meanness in her expression; we both (all!) knew what was going to happen next, and she needed to tell me two things at that moment. First, that she loves me, and she succeeded at communicating that message completely. And second, I realized at that moment that she wanted me to remember her words of last night: "I wouldn't have it any other way. I really DO like what we do, and I feel good about it," Sally got up on her knees and threw her right leg across her lover's hips. With her right hand she reached down and guided his cock into her pussy, and as soon as it found its target she sat down on him completely. Ted let out a CRY of pleasure and Sally started moving her hips back and forth, back and forth. She built up a rhythm - THEY built up a rhythm. Her part was jerking her hips back and forth as she squeezed his cock inside her, and his part was a steady series of pants and grunts as my wife fucked him. It was awesome to witness. I don't care what stories you've read, or what videos you've seen; seeing two people fucking right in front of you is like no other experience in the world, and seeing your WIFE fuck another man... well, there just aren't words to describe what it's like to see your naked wife joined together with another man, fucking in front of you. In the middle of fucking Ted - wow, what a sentence to write... IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING TED! - Sally looked at me and saw me kneeling by the bed, masturbating as I watched her cuckold me. Then she said something I will never, EVER forget: "Look, ma - no hands!" That comment struck me as so funny, I actually laughed. But her words were followed by sharp, rapid moves of her hips along her lover's groin, and Ted responded with another loud cry of intense pleasure. At that moment I actually got the "look ma, no hands!" joke - and the joke was on me. Sally and Ted knew that it would excite me to be allowed to watch them have sex. They knew that I voluntarily gave up sex nearly nine years ago, and ceded that part of my life to Ted, who is so much better at it than I can ever dream of being. So they called me in to watch my wife suck this man's cock until it was hard and straining to fuck. Now my wife was showing me the intense pleasure Ted was feeling from her pussy. No hands, just pussy - holding, stroking and pulsing on his naked cock. My wife wanted to be sure I understood: she was FUCKING Ted. She really liked doing it, and she really felt good about it, too. So good that she wanted me to see. It was probably only about five minutes, but it seemed to go on forever. At times he reached up and held her tits in his hands; someday I'll figure out why I feel more shame when he does that than anything else. Maybe it's all the women's tits I've wanted to reach out and touch, but I haven't because it's "not proper" to do that; yet here he is, not only doing it but doing it in front of her husband. Why aren't I stopping him? (Yes, dear reader, I know that he's fucking her as this goes on, and all I'm doing in response to THAT is jerking myself off, but still... her tits? I didn't say it made sense.) Then his hands fell off her tits. His arms started shaking and he panted, "Oh, Sally, you're going to make me CUMMMMMMM..." My wife didn't miss a beat, or a stroke. She leaned forward, resting her hands on either side of his chest, and she PUMPED her hips back and forth, faster and harder. I tried to use my X-ray vision to see through her hips, to see the Real Man's cock inside my wife's body; I didn't succeed, but I did know I was witnessing my wife fucking her lover to orgasm. At this point I knew that neither of them remembered I was in the room, and surprisingly that was fine with me; I didn't need to be the center of attention. I was the honored (or dishonored) guest at a fucking, and they were now reaching the climax. Then Ted came in my wife. I know I was just "wallpaper" to them when it happened, but it happened. I was there. I saw it, I heard it, I felt the bed bounce as my wife made her lover orgasm in her body. His orgasmic cries of pleasure are something I will never forget, and I will never know. For a moment I remembered that every year, when Sally lets me fuck her once, I'm shocked by how much better it feels than I imagine, and now I'm trying to imagine how HE is feeling. I know how *I* am feeling: on the edge of cumming, ashamed that I'm letting this happen, humiliated that they know they have given me a treat by letting me watch and totally inadequate knowing I could never bring out this raw passion in her. As he came, I quietly knee-walked to the foot of the bed so I could see. So I could see SEX. So I could see his cock sliding in and out of her pussy, in and out of her body. Every few moments his groin clenched, pushing his cock further inside her and, I knew, squirting more of his cum into her pussy. I knelt quietly, masturbating, as he slowly softened and finally fell out of my wife, and I watched as she gently moved to his side, laid down next to him and kissed him deeply. My view was of legs, pussy and cock, and of Sally's right arm across her lover's chest. I sat down on the floor, still jerking off but possibly as exhausted as Ted was, even though only he had cum. I suddenly had an image of how this looked - of how I looked - and mixed with the shame was an overwhelming feeling that this was... right. My wife and her lover were in bed together, quietly resting and kissing after sex, and I was sitting by myself on the floor at the foot of the bed, playing with my penis because no one else touches it. I was horny as hell, but completely content. Which is why I did not protest, or even say a word, when Sally told me to leave. Ted had turned to her and their gentle kisses had turned passionate and insistent. When he handed her the vibrator, her two responses were to spread her legs and say, "Paul, leave now." As I walked back to "my alcove," Sally's "look, ma, no hands!" comment hit me again, even harder. It felt like a dream, a fantasy, yet I knew it really happened. Sally was completely comfortable showing me how she fucks her lover, and she was equally comfortable telling me she wants to be alone with him. Ted has often said that the most intimate gift she gives him are her orgasms, and the cuckold in me really does understand that this is something she wants to give to him alone - in both senses of the word. The alcove had one tremendous advantage over the two-room suite, at least for me. While I still could not hear the words that Ted was whispering to my wife as he made love to her, I could hear every sound she made. Every gasp, every intake of breath, every deep, soulful groan of pleasure. And yes, every single moment of the earth-shaking, minute-long orgasm he gave her. Once again, it was everything I could do to keep from cumming at the sound - the sounds - of my wife's second orgasm, but I knew that my horniness was the only thing keeping me from feeling terrible about what was happening a few feet away from me. As her orgasm finally died down I heard the sounds of kissing and of her talking gently to Ted. Putting two and two together, I understood that Ted was kissing my wife all over her body to thank her for the gift she gave him, and she was whispering her own thank-yous to her lover. He continued to make love to her even after she came; yet another way he does this better than I ever did. The room grew silent. I assumed they were sleeping, so I masturbated as quietly as possible. I replayed each of the images I had seen: taking off her bra, offering her tits to her lover, hearing them fucking, hearing her cum (and cum again), seeing her making love to his cock with her mouth and, of course, Seeing. Them. Fucking. Seeing my wife fuck him until she took him over the edge and he came in her, ejaculated in her body. Rubrubrubrubrub. My masturbatory reverie was interrupted by a soft call from Ted: "Paul, come here." The softness of his voice made clear that Sally was sleeping, but even knowing that did not prepare me for what I saw when I approached their bed. Ted was still on his back, with the sheet pulled up to his waist. Sally was lying naked beside him, her head resting on his chest, fast asleep. It was one of the most painful and most erotic things I had ever seen, and I think if I needed a single picture to illustrate the word "cuckold," it would have been that one. When we say "she slept with him" we usually mean she did everything OTHER THAN sleeping, but seeing my wife so comfortable, so relaxed, so fucked out that she had fallen asleep on Ted's chest nearly tore my heart out. Only a cuckold can possibly understand that it hurt like hell and excited me at the same time, but it did. It was thrilling to see that my wife trusted Ted and trusted me enough to let go completely, knowing that he would hold her and I would love her as she slept. Ted gave me a minute to take in the scene, and as my view expanded I saw he was gently stroking his cock under the sheet. I stood by the bed and did the same, rubbing my penis slowly so I wouldn't cum. He started talking to me about my wife - about making love to my wife. He reviewed the day, filling in the parts I did not see as well as giving his perspective on what I witnessed. He said he loved sucking my wife's nipples while I held them out to him, but he was honest and said he didn't care WHO held them as long as he got to suck them. He said he got so excited having her tits in his mouth that as soon as I left the room he laid her back on the bed, stood between her legs and started fucking her. He said she started up her vibrator while they fucked, but they were both so focused on how good it felt that neither of them was in a hurry to cum. I just stood there, nodding dumbly as my wife's lover told me how he had sex with my wife and how much they both enjoyed it. I saw the head of his cock making a more pronounced impression on the sheet as he talked, and finally I couldn't stand it any longer: I had to see. "Ted, if it isn't an imposition, would it be all right if I pulled down the sheet so I can see the cock my wife loves while we talk?" "Sure," he said with a grin. "Give yourself a thrill." Sally didn't move as I gently slid the sheet down Ted's body. Sure enough, his cock was hard in his hand and he continued to stroke it as he went on with his narrative. He told me how hard she came the first time, and how much harder she came the second time; he told me how good it felt when she sucked his cock, and how he was happy to call me over to give me a thrill by letting me watch. "I know it's the best way to thank you for bringing your wife to me," he said, and I stuttered out my thanks - and agreement. I asked how it felt to have her do that in front of me, and that's when he said again that he honestly didn't care if I was there - that I was "the wallpaper" and nothing more. Again, he said it with no malice; he simply answered my question, and I had no reason to doubt the honesty of his reply. He talked about how amazingly she fucked him. How he loved reaching up and holding her tits while she rode his cock. How he tried to hold off, but simply couldn't. How strong his orgasm was. I was staring at his cock. He noticed and said, "You're picturing it inside your wife, aren't you? Picturing it going in and out of her pussy, right?" "Yes," I blurted out. "You'll never know how good it feels - how good your wife makes me feel. She uses her hands, her mouth, her pussy to give me such extraordinary pleasure, and you'll never know, will you?" "No," I said a little too loudly, staring at his erection, picturing it inside my wife, giving both of them such exquisite pleasure until it squirted his semen into her. "She doesn't want to do any of that with me, and I don't blame her. I'm no good at sex; I'm not a real man. You're the only one that gets that because you're the man she wants to fuck." Sally moved slightly at the sound of my voice. "I think it's great how it has worked out for all of us," Ted answered. "Now it's time for you to go back to your alcove. Your wife is waking up and I want to be alone with her. I'm not done with her beautiful body yet." I said I understood completely, and the truth is, I did. I thanked Ted for talking with me and for telling me about sex with my wife, and continuing to masturbate, I walked away from the bed - their bed. A few more minutes passed before I heard whispering, then kissing. Then Ted groaning. Sitting in my chair, out of sight of the bed, I listened as my wife sucked her lover's cock... again. Even with the pleasure of stroking my own cock I had to wonder how good it must feel to a man - to THAT man - to have a woman want to do that to him. I thought back to all the times Sally tried to do that to me, and how I never got hard or stayed hard when she did. Suddenly the image of her sucking Ted's cock just a little while ago flashed into my mind, and I nearly came yet again. My wife was in bed with her lover - with a Real Man - and she was drawn again to his cock: to touch it, kiss it, lick it, suck it. Ted's naked body lying against my wife's, his naked sex organ deep in my wife's mouth. I've tried to type words that accurately portray the sounds Ted made, but it doesn't work. The sounds were SEX and PLEASURE, and anyone who has ever heard two people having passionate, satisfying sex would know them. I can only say that I heard them all as my wife made love to his cock. He, too, came long and hard. I wondered if he thought about me at all as he came in my wife's mouth; later he would look at me, surprised, wondering how I could even imagine that he was thinking about ME when my wife made him cum. Listening, I felt like I could not only hear him cum, but actually hear him ejaculating; after the first two orgasmic cries his voice changed, got lower and seemed to come from someplace deep inside him. It was like his groin muscles pushed his cum out of him so hard that they themselves cried out. His pleasure went on and on and on... In a couple of hours my wife had sex twice with her lover. She came twice in his arms - twice as much as she cums in my arms in an entire year. She fucked him twice, sucked his cock twice, made him cum twice - twice as much as she shares any of that with me in an entire year. More than that, she ENJOYED SEX. Something she hasn't done with me in many, many years. And yet, I felt so... GOOD. Sitting there in "my alcove," horny from not cumming for three days before this date and from jerking off for three consecutive hours, I felt really, really good. I felt loved, and ACCEPTED. It was when I said that word to myself that I suddenly realized what was different, and why I would need to write this new chapter: My amazing, thrilling, always-surprising wife had not only cuckolded me, but she actually accepted me for who I am AND EMBRACED IT. She cuckolded me both because I asked her to and because she enjoyed it. She "felt good about it." Each thing she did today to cuckold me was something she enjoyed doing - having me offer her tits to him, telling me to watch, telling me to leave. I felt so good, and I felt so good for her. And, to be honest, I felt good for Ted, too, because he has been a very important part of this whole process. I heard Ted dress, then kiss my wife goodbye. He needed to leave quickly, so he didn't have time to chat with me. I understood. He spent his time making love to my wife, and that's why I brought her here. As he went to leave I said, "Thank you very much for fucking my wife for me. I could never give her that." "Oh, it was MY pleasure," he replied. "I'm very happy to give her what she needs." Soon after he left, Sally got up. She came over to me in the alcove, leaned over me so her body wouldn't touch my still-hard penis, and kissed me. She asked if I was all right, and I said I was doing great. I asked if she had a good time and she said, with emphasis, that she really did. I asked if she still likes what we do. She kissed me again and said, "Yes, I do. Thank you for bringing me to my lover." We got dressed, left the hotel and went to a local mall to walk in the air conditioning. We didn't go into details while we were in public, but every so often Sally would say something to remind me that she just cuckolded me. We held hands all day and drove home singing along with 60s songs on the radio. A few days later I helped her get off by telling her what I saw (and didn't see!) during her date. I described what I saw her doing to Ted, and what I saw her doing to me. I asked her how she felt about having sex with Ted right in front of me, especially since she stopped having sex with me years ago, and she said, "I told you on the way. I like what we do, and I feel good about it," "And how do you feel about ME?" I asked. I don't just watch you, I get excited by it. I'm ashamed that I am this way, so I wonder how you feel, too." "It's who you are," my wife responded gently. "I know it, Ted knows it. You are a cuckold, and that's what cuckolds do. I accept that, and I'm enjoying our arrangement." Which made me feel more loved, more turned on and more accepted than I can ever remember. You see, I like what we do, too. And I'm comfortable with it. And knowing that my wife likes what we do - and loves me for who I am - makes this story complete. It's what we do. Sincerely, Cuckold Paul