Cuckold's Diary 32 - "What a Cuckold Needs"

[Paul_Pines]

A Cuckold's Diary, Chapter 32
"What a Cuckold Needs"
November 2011

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
newatthis22a@yahoo.com

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.

“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
Newatthis22a@yahoo.com

[gabriello]

great keep up the good work

[kahuna]

Amazing as always Paul. You capture the angst of a cuckold so well. I hope you keep writing your diary.

[Paul_Pines]

Thanks. I only write when something happens that is new and different. I'm always excited (well, with the one exception I wrote about) on their dates, but I don't want to bore people with the same thing each time.

I felt this experience was different, and might even be of use to other cucks and cuckoldresses.

Again, I appreciate the positive feedback!

Sincerely,

Cuckold Paul

[gabriello]

we never get bored! pls post more

[fg925]

Paul,

As always I enjoy reading your posts. Just wish you could post more.

Thank you.

[sophie_joy]

Paul, you seem to have the same need as my husband. He said to me yesterday, "If it's okay for you to decide you don't want to fuck me, then it has to be okay for me to tell you what I need in order to make that okay."

But it's really hard for the wife to understand that. It probably is true, as you say, that your wife decided she'd rather learn to hurt you than have to fuck you. But that isn't an easy or natural thing for a loving wife.

I help Brent masturbate; I give him blow jobs. I want to help him have good orgasms. But one of the things he wants is to bring me to orgasm orally and then walk away, with me not have to exert any effort for his pleasure. He says that what makes the cuckolding bearable is being able to service me with no reciprocation, and he wants me to acknowledge, verbally, that I want him to service me but I don't want to fuck him.

It is so counter-intuitive. I hope all men in your position and Brent's will be patient with us.

[Paul_Pines]

Sophie_Joy...

One thing I advise new cuckolds and cuckold wannabes is exactly that: to be PATIENT with the woman who loves us. Our fantasies can go 1,000 miles per hour, but that does not mean that a real human - especially one who loves us, and who did not imagine that cuckolding would be part of her relationship - can keep up.

I asked Sally to cuckold me for 15 years (no joke) before she tried it, and even now - nearly 13 years into it - you can see that it is still a "work in progress." Communication in both directions is absolutely essential for any marriage, and perhaps essential in spades for such a relationship as this.

If either you or your hubby wish to correspond with me directly, feel free. Email is newatthis22a@yahoo.com; I try to answer as quickly as possible.

Take a breath, relax, and maybe even enjoy the possibilities this opens up for you?

Sincerely,

Cuckold Paul

[sophie_joy]

[quote="Paul_Pines"

Take a breath, relax, and maybe even enjoy the possibilities this opens up for you?

[/quote]

Paul, I do enjoy the possibilities -- and the realities. I really do. It's hard not to feel selfish or unloving, though. That's what I have to overcome.

In my mind, I can acknowledge certain truths. My husband isn't the perfect lover, so sure I can find things to criticize about sex with him. And yes, if I had to choose, I would choose sex with my lover every time because it's more exciting and more physically rewarding. I don't have to choose, but hubby wants me to. So, I decided no intercourse with him for 30 days. It was an aphrodisiac, and it really freed me with my lover because I was able to give him (the lover) the gift of saying, "I'm not fucking my husband." (I like to say "fuck"!)

I love all that. But actually internalizing the idea that he needs me to have sex with others and not with him is not an easy thing.

[Paul_Pines]

Sophie_Joy -

Please check your Private Messages.

Cuckold Paul