A Cuckold’s Diary, Chapter 35
May, 2012
(Dear OHW Folks: The following two paragraphs are for the Literotica trolls, not the wonderful people I've met on OHW!)
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-in-law 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.
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
Newatthis22a@yahoo.com
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 :-) .