08/08/2016 00:48 in slut
"I Like What We Do"
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.