A Cuckold's Diary, Chapter 43 - "Having Fun"

[Paul_Pines]

Here's part 2 of the story I posted last week. I suggest you read that one (Chapter 42) before this one.

A Cuckold’s Diary
CD43 Having Fun
October 2014

Want to know how to kill a masochist’s excitement? Just say, “Tell me if this hurts too much and I’ll stop.”

I’m a masochist. I get off on being hurt. I don’t have much experience with physical pain, but I’ve said for years that cuckolding is “psychological S&M.” I’ve also corresponded with many masochists who actually live, and live for, the thrill of being hurt by someone. Some have gone to professional dominatrices, others have been fortunate enough to have someone they love who understands their excitement at being hurt. Bottom line, the excitement is all about control… or lack thereof. Very few people are actually turned on by being HURT; most masochists get off on losing control. When you are with someone who is so in control that she (or he) is willing to hurt you without regard for how you feel, it is SUCH a turn on! Which is why “tell me when to stop” kills the mood.

Professional doms will always give their subject a “safe word”; a word to use if they actually go too far. This makes sense, as no one wants to be arrested for doing damage to another person. And a pro cannot possibly know what the subject really means when he or she says “Oh God, that hurts!” Is it, “Oh God, that hurts and I’m so excited I’m going to cum!” or is it “Oh God, that fucking hurts and you have to stop or I’m going to die!”? Hence the “safe word,” which is both safe and… a buzz kill.

So the ultimate sexual experience for a masochist would be someone who knows them so well that they are not only able to understand their need to be hurt, but also know them well enough to hurt them as much as they can stand, but never more. Without asking. Without a “safe word.” A person who knows the subject so well that she can ENJOY hurting him because she knows it turns everyone on.

Where can anyone find such a person? Well, I’m married to her. Her name is Sally.

You can go back and read about the development of our cuckoldress/cuckold relationship over the past 31 years of marriage and 16 years of cuckolding, but if you’ve followed our story you know that Sally did not come to this easily. I won’t go into the difficulties a loving wife has when she hears her husband begging her to hurt him by fucking another man, but believe me it wasn’t easy for her. Only gradually, as she realized a) that I really DID like being hurt like this, and b) she actually really liked sex when it was with someone better at it than I am, was she able to let go and have fun. First, she let go and started having fun fucking her lover and then, slowly, she came to have fun hurting me as she did.

To all those who comment – anonymously, of course – on Literotica saying I should dump the bitch, my only response is to say that you should ever in your life be so lucky as to find a partner as loving, caring and willing to try new things as Sally. And, I might add, so lucky as to find as caring lover and friend as Ted is. And as for our marriage, your concern is misplaced. Married over 31 years, more in love than ever, and every single sexual fantasy I have is about my wife. Actually, that’s not true: every time I jerk off I think about my wife, but it’s never fantasy – I just replay reality!

I give all this as preface to prepare for my story, which happened in October. I suggest you read the previous chapter, “The Towel Waver,” before this one, as I pick up immediately after that date. Once again, if you’re a cuckold, I hope you enjoy our experiences. If you are someone who is so sexually insecure that you get off on writing screeds to people who live different (and more exciting?) lives than you, I’m sure you’ll love what I have to say :-)

Right after Ted and Sally’s September date, life got in the way big time. Between ailing parents and massive work obligations, our attention was diverted the minute we got in the car to drive home from Pennsylvania that afternoon. Sure, I masturbated LOTS over the following weeks, replaying the details of my humiliation in front of the two of them, but Sally and I didn’t have a minute to talk about it together. Two weeks went by, and my insecurities began to rear their ugly heads. Was she not talking about it because we went too far? Was it difficult for her to deal with the way I shamed myself in front of them, and the way she and Ted cuckolded and laughed at me? I love our cuckold relationship, but I love Sally more… had we gone too far this time?

Finally, we had a minute – literally a minute – alone together when it wasn’t 2 a.m. I said, “Look, I know we’ve been really busy, but are you upset with what happened last time? Was it too much?”

Sally looked surprised, and I could see her reviewing the past two weeks. “God, no, it wasn’t too much at all. We’ve just both been so busy, there hasn’t been time to talk or play. But don’t worry - I really had fun!”

“You had fun with Ted, or you had fun laughing at me?” I asked.

“Both!” she said, without a moment’s hesitation.

“It wasn’t… you know, too much? Seeing me like that?”

“You mean seeing you kneel beside the bed and play with yourself while I sucked Ted’s cock? Making you say you’re not a man, and he is? Nope, not too much at all.

“It was FUN.”

She then ran off to her next commitment, and I pulled down my pants and played with myself until I came, replaying her words over and over. Fucking Ted was fun, and laughing at me was FUN, too. I came really, really hard.

I came hard the next day, and that day after that, too. In fact I came hard every day until it was time to stop cumming to get ready for their next date.

We were back to our normal schedule – going to the hotel the night before and me waking Sally up with breakfast in bed when it was time for her to get ready for her lover. Ted told us the day before that he would have to leave at noon, so he planned to arrive at 9 a.m. sharp. Traffic always seems to delay his arrival, so Sally asked me to wake her at 8, feeling sure that would be plenty of time for breakfast and “preparations.”

Ted arrived at 8:45. He said he was sorry he had to leave at noon, so he wanted to “take advantage of every moment I have with my girlfriend.” I opened the door to our suite when he knocked, and sat with him while Sally finished getting dressed (sort of) and ready. That time is always odd for me: Ted is a really great guy, and is a true friend to me as well as to Sally, so part of the conversation is very relaxed and casual. But the huge, unspoken truth is that he’s there to have a date in bed with my wife, and she is as anxious for it as he is. So we talk and he only occasionally smirks at me, the cuckold husband whose wife only fucks her lover.

When Sally entered, there were two sharp intakes of breath: from Ted and from me. She wore a halter-top black negligee with a single string tied behind her neck, black matching panties and a short black, sheer robe. Her hair was beautiful, her makeup accented her amazing eyes, and her breasts were just about popping out of her top.

It’s funny how, even after all these years, I had a moment of “Oh my God, you can’t dress like that now – there’s another man here!” But that feeling lasted only until she crossed the living room to where he had gotten to his feet, because the moment they met they held and kissed each other like… well, like lovers. And then I remembered: I brought her here so she could fuck him. She’s dressed exactly as she should be – at least until she’s not dressed at all.

In spite of Ted’s anticipated early departure, they sat on the couch and talked for about six years. Actually it was 15 minutes but, well, if you think chatting casually alone with Ted is awkward for me, you have NO idea what it’s like to be-there-but-not-be-there while Ted and Sally catch up, make out and do what lovers do before heading to bed together. Ted showed his appreciation for Sally’s flimsy negligee by gently caressing her breasts and occasionally squeezing her nipples as they sat close and talked, and Sally’s hand drifted down to the front of his pants several times. Finally they decided it was time, so Sally gave me our now-customary, “Here’s a tiny sample of what I’m about to give him” kiss and off they went. Last time she had undressed him in front of me; the time before that, he had undressed her. This time it was clear that they were there for each other, and when they left for the bedroom there was no hesitation about leaving me behind.

As I related in the previous chapter, I was okay with that. In the past I might have obsessed for a while over what I didn’t get to see, but now I’m not just “okay” with the fact that my job is to bring her to him; I’m happy about it. I’ve decided to be the best possible cuckold I can be, to do everything I can to make sure they have a good time together and to take my pleasure in the psychological pain which cuckolding brings.

As soon as I heard the bedroom door click shut I pulled off my pants and underwear, grabbed a chair, placed it outside the bedroom door and sat down. I coated my penis with Vaseline and began to enjoy my part in their sex: being allowed to listen at the door, and being ready to do whatever they ask – IF they ask anything.

I heard the sound of Ted’s belt buckle, then a gasp, and I knew his cock was already in my wife’s mouth. Thinking back to their previous date, when Ted humiliated me – and made me humiliate myself – while Sally sucked his cock right in front of me, my penis hardened in record time. I could picture it, since I had seen it up close and personal just last month.

You know how you THINK you know something, but then when you actually see it you realize how wrong you were? It turns out I was wrong. When I pictured what was going on behind the door it was somehow more like a slightly gauzy-focused porn video, not real flesh-and-blood humans touching each other’s bodies. How do I know I got it wrong? Because just a few minutes into their sex, Ted called me to come in.

I jumped to my feet and opened the door, trying not to slam it in my excitement. I LOVE when they call me in, whatever it is for! But the minute I entered the room I was confronted with reality, not fantasy. Ted – A MAN – was lying naked on the bed in front of me. I saw his naked feet, his hairy legs and torso, his pubic hair, his hairy balls. What I could not see was his cock, since it was in my wife’s mouth – my now-naked wife’s mouth. Apparently my entrance had been perfectly timed, as Sally had just swallowed his cock and his mouth fell open as he groaned with pleasure. He looked at me and smiled, then said, “We wanted you to see what you’re missing.”

Sally looked up at me standing over her – over them. She blinked to acknowledge my presence but continued to make love to Ted’s cock. He moaned and his body shook, and when she pulled her mouth off him I saw that he was completely hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off the sight of my wife, naked, sucking on her lover’s erection and looking straight at me. I watched her kiss and lick the head, then lick up the length of his shaft, then open her mouth and swallow him again. “Bareback” doesn’t begin to describe the sight of her mouth on the skin of his cock.

“Do you see her looking at you, Paul?” Ted asked. I nodded. “Her mouth is full right now, but that look means she doesn’t want to do this with you… EVER. But she wanted you to see how she looks when she’s enjoying sex.”

I started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come out. She really did look like she was having fun: she was getting off on sucking her lover’s cock, and she was getting off on showing me. I could see it in her face, even though her mouth was full of penis. She continued to look at me, smiling at me with her beautiful eyes as she kissed, licked and sucked her lover’s erect cock.

Then with a wave of her hand (it’s not polite to speak with your mouth full) she made it clear that she wanted me to leave. NOW.

I SO wanted to stay; it had been less than a minute, and I wanted to see more. But Sally’s gesture left no doubt and no room for discussion, so remembering my pledge to be a good cuckold I thanked them both for letting me see, and backed out of the room.

As I closed the door I heard him cry out with pleasure. I didn’t know what she had just done to him, but I knew how she was making him feel – there was no doubt about that. Afterward, he told me that the minute I left the room she “got on top of me and rode me. It was amazing how wet she was, and how much she wanted to fuck me when you left.” Having heard the sounds he made, I had no reason to doubt his description of what had happened.

I sat down in my chair and masturbated as hard as I could without cumming. I thought about what I had just seen and what Sally told me last time – that it was fun sucking his cock, and fun having me watch. Even though she hadn’t let me watch very long this time, I now knew she thought it was fun to let me see her suck her lover’s cock. She knew it hurt me to be treated this way, and she knew I loved it.

My wife has fun hurting me.

MY WIFE HAS FUN HURTING ME!

She never asked if it hurt too much. She didn’t have to. She knew it hurt just enough… just enough that it excited all three of us. And then she sent me away so she could go back to giving her full attention to her lover, knowing that that, too, would hurt me… just enough.

He came. Hard. Of course he knew I would hear: he says I’m just irrelevant to them when they are making love, but I have to believe there is at least a little sadistic pleasure in having a man hear you cum in his wife. I’ve said it before, and it’s hard to explain, but I nearly cried – and I nearly came. We all know that Sally gives me only one mercy fuck a year, and even that doesn’t have any of the raw, sexual passion she reserves for her lover. But time after time I sit outside the bedroom door and play with my little penis while Ted fucks her and cums in her. In her pussy, in her mouth, in her hand… He knows it hurts me, and he says he doesn’t care. But he makes sure I hear each of his orgasms, and he says it’s great that his feeling so good makes me feel so bad.

They were quiet, and I heard Sally’s pocket rocket start to hum. Tiny gasps make their way through the door, accompanied by Ted’s soft voice encouraging her. I don’t know what he said, I don’t know exactly what they did, but I know he was helping her feel good. I thought of all the times Sally played with her vibe at home while I sat nearby, talking to her without seeing or touching her. When it takes a long time for her to get off she says, “I wish Ted was here to get me over,” and I always say I understand. Now he was here, and he was helping her get over.

I’m disappointed in myself that I can’t even help my wife get off. I know we tried for years – SHE tried for years – but once she got comfortable with Ted she learned how her body responds when she’s in bed with a real man. She usually cums very quickly with him, but even when it takes her a while he never tires of making love to her. He makes her feel good, and feel good about herself, in ways I never could. I really wish I could, but now I take perverted satisfaction in bringing her to him so he can give her what she deserves.

Which means that this part of their lovemaking also hurts me – and feels good to her. I KNOW it feels good to her, because I hear it now, sitting outside the door. Her whimpers grow in volume and frequency, interspersed with moans and soft words of affection for her lover. Then, always, there is a silence: the silence as her body approaches, stands on and then goes over the edge.

I have related before how Ted feels that Sally’s orgasms are her most precious gift to him. He has also told me that they should hurt me more than anything else, because they are an intimate experience she shares only with him. As he put it, “everything else is mechanical. But when she cums for me it is completely personal.”

After the silence, she came for him. I sat there, trying to be quiet, while my wife came in her lover’s arms. Each cry, each slap as her body slammed down on the bed, each grunt as her muscles spasmed and pushed her breath out of her felt like a knife in my stomach. I was hard as a rock, jerking off like mad, and it HURT SO MUCH!

Once again, my wife was having fun hurting me.

I’ve asked her many times how it feels to cum with Ted, knowing I’m right outside the door hearing everything. Her basic answer is that when she cums she doesn’t think about anything except him, her and how it feels to cum, but she’s acknowledged more and more that she really likes knowing I’m listening when she forgets about me. When I tell her it hurts to hear her cum she says, “It should.”

It did. I heard Ted get my wife “over” in just a couple of minutes – far faster than she ever gets off at home. I heard her cum – HARD – and I heard him kissing her and encouraging her all the way. When she finally finished – yes, I heard each of the “aftershocks,” too – they were quiet again, until they asked me to bring them their coffee from the living room.

If you would, please back up from this scene for a moment and take in the Big Picture. Having brought my wife to a hotel in Pennsylvania, I opened the door and invited her lover to come in. They sat and kissed in front of me, then told me they were going to bed together. I sat outside the door and listened as my wife made passionate love with another man, and I hear them each have a screaming orgasm. Then they asked me to bring them coffee.

My response was, “Do you want me to reheat it first?”

No, I’m not proud of that. I’m excited as hell by it, but I’m not proud of it. How could I be?

They said it was fine as it was, so I wiped just enough of the Vaseline off my hand to be able to grip the two cups. I knocked on their door – it is, after all, THEIR door – and they told me to come in.

Sally was on her back, with the sheet covering her only to her waist. Her magnificent tits were exposed, and Ted was staring at them. He was lying on top of the sheet, completely naked; his half-erect cock giving me a one-eyed glare as if I had no business barging in on their sex.

I handed each of them their coffee, being careful not to confuse which belonged to whom – certainly not because of any concern over them getting each other’s germs, but because Sally takes milk in hers and Ted doesn’t.

My hand automatically returned to my penis when I handed them the coffee, and I stood there stupidly playing with myself while they drank. Her tits, his cock, their naked bodies, their kisses exchanged openly between sips of their drinks… I tried to assimilate it all, but it overwhelmed me.

I was just beginning to get into a rhythm when Sally gave me the same wave-of-the-hand she had used earlier to dismiss me. I guess I whined a little when I said, “You want me to leave NOW?”

Ted looked at me with a combination of annoyance and pity. “You can’t stay here, Paul,” he said in a very firm tone. “This isn’t your place.” And with that he nodded in the direction of my chair in the hallway.

I felt like a child dismissed from the grownups’ conversation, and I guess that wasn’t so far from the truth. I hung my head, turned for the door and followed my pointing penis out of THEIR room, closing the door softly behind me.

What followed was a quiet time, as I expected. Lovers lying together, talking together. I know from what I’ve seen and what I’ve been told that their hands never leave the other’s body when they are in bed together. Ted caresses my wife’s breasts, glides his hands over her arms, legs and torso while they talk. And to Ted’s constant delight, my wife is unable to keep her hands off his cock. Even when it’s soft she touches and strokes it, stopping only to hold his balls or play with his nipples. It is hours of constant sexual arousal meant to impress no one; just lovers enjoying each other and… having fun.

Of course, that kind of fun seems to lead to sex. And so it did, as I heard Sally gasp suddenly – the special gasp she makes when a cock slides into her pussy. Ted sucked in his breath in response, and followed that with a series of short grunts which anyone on earth would know were the sounds of a man fucking a woman.

Not two minutes into their fucking, Ted called to me to come in. When I opened the door I saw sex: raw, uncensored sex. Sally was lying on her back with a pillow under her head. Her legs were spread wide. Ted was on his knees between my wife’s open legs, and his hips were moving back and forth, back and forth. They were FUCKING.

I started to say something – I have no idea what – but Sally said, “Be QUIET. Shut up, and just LISTEN.”

I shut up and listened. What I heard was the sound of my wife’s pussy squishing with each thrust of her lover’s cock. The sounds were so obscene I nearly lost it right there, but there was more to those sounds than just good sex.

“Oh, my God,” I stuttered.

“What do you hear, Paul?” my wife asked, as her lover continued to FUCK her in front of me.

“You’re SO WET,” I said, nearly in tears.

“Yes, I am. Now go away,” she said.

Her words left no more room for discussion than the earlier wave of her hand, so I backed out of the room, thanking them both again for letting me see sex.

For those who have read the earlier chapters of my Diary, you know that one of the most humiliating things for me is how my wife always gets wet for Ted, and never did for me. I really mean never; I don’t think there was once in our lives together that we were able to fuck without using lubricant. Yet Sally and Ted don’t even HAVE lubricant with them when they go to bed, and Ted marvels at how wet she is for him every single time. He loves how her body says it wants him, and he takes some pleasure in telling me about it since he knows she never responded to me that way. Now I sat in my chair, listening to them fuck, and hearing the squish-squish-SQUISH of my wife’s pussy playing over and over in my memory.

Of course, Ted came. They were on the side of the bed nearest the door, so his bellowed orgasm seemed to come from right in front of me. I thought – actually, I wondered – how good it must feel for him to fuck my wife when her pussy is gushing for him, and I guessed I got a pretty good idea from the sounds he made as he came in her.

Her vibrator started almost instantly, and her second orgasm seemed to explode a minute later. I sat quietly as a man and a woman – a man and my wife – had sex together and gave each other the pleasure I could never provide. I wasn’t sad; as I explained in the previous chapter this, too, felt right. I brought my wife to her lover, I did everything I could to make them comfortable as they fucked, and I sat quietly playing with my penis as they made love together. I’m the Towel-Waver, and as I furiously stroked my little penis I felt satisfied. Hurt, and satisfied.

But they weren’t done with me. And what they did next blew my mind.

Following a respectable period of time after Sally came, they called me to come in again. (If you ask how long a “respectable period of time” before calling in the husband is, I honestly can’t tell you. I assume Emily Post wrote about it, but I haven’t had the opportunity to consult her.) They were lying in bed together, cuddling and kissing.

I watched for a minute, then asked if there was something they wanted; after all, they had called me in. Sally said, “No, we just thought you’d like to stand there for a while,” as she wrapped her arms around her lover and kissed him gently on the lips.

I didn’t say anything because it would have come out as gibberish. I stood there and masturbated while they kissed, then kissed again. Ted’s left hand slid down to Sally’s right breast and he gently caressed it as he looked deep into her eyes. Without even looking at me he said, “I love your wife’s tits,” and he lowered his mouth to her nipple and sucked. She closed her eyes, sighed and kissed the top of his head.

They let me stand there for at least 10 minutes. I know I made a few involuntary noises as I was as close to cumming as I’ve ever been, but I did my best to be silent and watch the lovers cuddle. They obviously knew I was there, but there was nothing about their actions that seemed forced, or a performance. They simply called me in to see how they hold each other after sex.

At one point Ted rested his head on Sally’s breast, kissing her flesh gently as he lay there. I’ve always been in love with my wife’s breasts, and seeing him do that was unbearable.

“That hurts so much,” I said softly.

My wife held his head to her breast and said equally softly, “It should.”

When Ted reluctantly said he had to leave, Sally told me to leave so they could say goodbye. I stumbled out to the living room and sat on the floor; I just didn’t feel I should sit on a chair when Ted came out, because we are not equals. He emerged in a few minutes, dressed to leave, and told me that Sally wanted to sleep for a half-hour. I said I wouldn’t disturb her, and I thanked him for everything. I thanked him for fucking my wife for me, I thanked him for giving her what I never could, and I thanked him for inviting me in each of those times.

“None of those were my idea,” he said. “Each of those invitations was your wife’s idea.”

I masturbated even harder as he continued, “I got SO hard, SO fast with her today. And when I was just about to burst she said, ‘Let’s show him,’ so I called you in. It didn’t matter to me – all I could think about was the wonderful job she was doing on my cock.

“Later, when we were fucking and I said how deliciously wet she felt and sounded, she said, ‘I want him to hear this.’ It was completely her idea.”

“And at the end, when you were cuddling together? Was that her idea, too?” I gasped out.

“Absolutely. In fact, she didn’t even ask me that time. We were just enjoying each other’s company, each other’s body, and she called to you. Again, I didn’t care; you were the one standing there playing with yourself; I had your luscious wife’s naked body in my arms.”

“It hurt SO much when you put your head on her breast,” I confessed.

“I saw that,” he said with just a hint of superiority. “All I can say is that it didn’t hurt US at all.” And with that, he said goodbye and left.

I sat on the floor and tried to take in everything that had happened. I had been cuckolded, hurt, humiliated. I had “waved the towel” while another man gave my wife sexual pleasure and fulfillment that I had never, ever given her, and I had thanked him for fucking her for me. But something new had been introduced in the last two dates: my wife made it clear that she didn’t just have fun with her lover she also had fun doing it to me.

SHE chose to call me in to see her sucking her lover’s cock, making him groan and shake with pleasure as she took his penis in her mouth. She knew it would hurt me to see it, and she wanted to do it. SHE wanted me to hear how wet her pussy was for Ted’s cock. She knew I never made her wet, and it would hurt me to her it sloshing as Ted fucked her. SHE wanted me to stand there and masturbate while she cuddled with her lover. She knew it would hurt me to see the tenderness, the intimacy, her naked skin on his, and she called me in to show me.

Sitting alone on the living room floor, I came so hard I thought I would pass out. I’m not a young man, but my cum shot a foot across the floor – I was glad I had the presence of mind to lay down a towel both to sit on and to cum on! I thought about how I looked to them – to my wife, and to her lover. I thought about my wife saying she doesn’t think about me at all when she cums; about Ted saying I am irrelevant to their pleasure; about them calling me in to experience the shame of being cuckolded. It was a shame and excitement and humiliation and stimulation and pain and pleasure-fueled orgasm, and it felt like it went on forever. I may have gone three days without cumming in preparation for this date, but it was an orgasm that was 16 years in the making.

I cleaned up, and when 45 minutes had passed I quietly opened the bedroom door. Sally was sleeping on her side facing me, and her left breast was exposed: a slap-in-the-face reminder that she had just gotten laid. I sat next to her and gently kissed her cheek to wake her. She opened her eyes, smiled at me and asked how I was doing.

“I’m great,” I said. “And I love you. How are you doing?”

“I’m good,” she answered as she looked at me. “He's a wonderful lover. Are you okay with everything?”

“Yes, I am. You hurt me, you know. Ted said it was your idea to invite me in each time.”

“It was. I wanted you to see… and hear.”

“You knew it would hurt me, didn’t you?” I asked, as I kissed her cheek again.

“Uh-huh. I did. It was fun,” she said, watching my face to see how I reacted.

“What was fun about it?” I asked. Thinking about it now, I realize we were speaking as lovers; not sexual lovers, but people deeply in love with each other. It was, in a word, wonderful to “reclaim” her in this way, even though we both knew she is not mine sexually at all.

“I liked showing you how I am with a man. A real man. I wanted you to see that I was never the problem; it was always you.” Her words stung, but her tone softened the blow. Actually, it made it hurt just right. “Was it really okay for you?”

“It was perfect for me. And when Ted told me it was all your idea, that you wanted to call me in each time, I was SO excited. Thank you, my love. Thank you for hurting me and for having fun doing it.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “It was my pleasure. Will you take me home now?”

“That would be MY pleasure,” I said.

That date was four weeks ago. This Thursday, Ted is coming to our house to spend the afternoon with my wife in our bed. He never asked if I minded, and neither did Sally. But that’s okay. I’ll have the towels ready for them.

So if anyone ever asks me how life is going for Sally and for me, my honest answer would be, “After 32 years of marriage, 16 years as a cuckold and eight years of her fucking only her lover… we’re having fun!”

Thanks for reading my Diary. It’s been a lot of fun sharing my life with you.

Sincerely,

Cuckold Paul
Newatthis22a@yahoo.com

[kidg1000]

Thanks for posting, this was an incredible entry! It's so hot to read about, I can't even imagine how hot it must be actually living it

[Mrfixitforyou]

Seems like I have been reading these post in your diary for ten years. I cant believe it'f been that long but I think the first thng I read from you was a number of years ago and it was called " Click" When you started posting your diary I followed and I am distrubed by one thng. At the end of this posting you put
THe End. I could be mistaken but I dont ever remember seeing that before on one of your post. Anyway I would love to be your friend and I hope you will keep posting. Hopefully this is not the end and add me as friend.

[Paul_Pines]

Mrfixit - actually, I didn't put "The End" at the end, but I know it sounded like it. That's because I think these most recent two chapters just about finish the story. (I actually said that once before, but my amazing wife proved me wrong!) As I explained, Ted and Sally are going strong after 16+ years, but I don't want to write the same thing over and over. Being cuckolded is exciting as hell for me, but they do, basically, do the same thing each time - "insert part A into slot B." :-)

I wrote because there was something new to write. I certainly would write again if they do something new and different, but otherwise I think 43 chapters is quite a full body of work for one guy.

FYI, "Click" was when they got back together in 2005. They started in 1998, and I wrote the first chapter soon after.

Thanks for your feedback.

Sincerely,

Cuckold Paul

[minuteboy]

I am sad to see your diary coming to an end. But I understand why it may have to be the end. Hopefully you will drop in occasion and give you fellow cucks an update. Your diary has helped me move forward in my relationship with my wife. I hope the best for you, your wife, and her lover.

[All4Jenna]

Wonderful story written superbly. Thanks Cuckold Paul!