How Way Leads On To Way

[sabya167]

This one could be my winter garment. Bloody hell. I can almost feel the heat you are in. You are on fire. Me too. Isn't this chapter the very reason you started this alternate universe in the first place? To live vicariously through it. I understand that but what I don't understand is WHERE THE FUCK YOU LEARNT TO WRITE LIKE THAT.

[sabya167]

Only a soulmate can write the partner's version like this. It's a testimony to how well you know your wife. You are soulmates no doubt. You are writing thìs for yourself, for us and also for Jaimee. Hope you will take this story from where its beautifully poised at the moment to those winding roads, lanes, alleys and slopes where the world of 'what-if's far exceeds the real one.

[Ky_Da]

Only a soulmate can write the partner's version like this. It's a testimony to how well you know your wife. You are soulmates no doubt. You are writing thìs for yourself, for us and also for Jaimee. Hope you will take this story from where its beautifully poised at the moment to those winding roads, lanes, alleys and slopes where the world of 'what-if's far exceeds the real one.

Thanks Sabya, as always, thanks for the comments.

[sabya167]

Only a soulmate can write the partner's version like this. It's a testimony to how well you know your wife. You are soulmates no doubt. You are writing thìs for yourself, for us and also for Jaimee. Hope you will take this story from where its beautifully poised at the moment to those winding roads, lanes, alleys and slopes where the world of 'what-if's far exceeds the real one.

Thanks Sabya, as always, thanks for the comments.

You are so welcome, dear.

[Ky_Da]

Quinton,

Working in a cubical, in an open office with only windows to section off a few of the offices is the worst idea man’s ever come up with. I work in a sterile environment, created to be open and transparent, meaning supervisors could more easily micromanage their people. Everyone can see everyone else’s screens, so there’s never even a chance to look at a personal email or read a news article. There are not secrets… at least not in the open. What would these people think if they knew that my wife was out of the country, a married woman breaking her vows and committing adultery over and over again? What would they say if they knew how much this excited me, how deeply satisfying I found it?”

I sat with my personal phone on my lap, reading the texts from last night over again. It was absolute insanity, when I thought about it. Samantha had been with Garrett only once before, sharing an evening of love making at a swingers party. And now she was on a three-day, two-night work retreat with the man. I had protested at first, but my cuck desires got in the way and I let myself be easily persuaded into letting things happen. It was barely day two, and I already yearned to hold her again. I needed her back. Suddenly I wasn’t feeling so envious of Nick and Julie’s situation. It was a lot more stressful than I had imagined. Did I just let my wife walk into the wolves’ den? I knew so little about Garrett Morgan.

I had spent hours Googling his name, but found almost nothing apart from him ringing the bell at the NY Stock Exchange a few years ago, and participating the christening of a new ship for a Norwegian shipping company. The clock on my computer finally hit 5:00 PM, and I wasted no time grabbing my things and leaving the office.

I hadn’t seen or talked to Nick for a while, but after Samantha left, I was feeling like I needed to talk to someone. Entering the front door to Patrick’s Gaslamp Pup, I found Nick sitting against a wall, numerous portraits displayed behind him. He had one empty glass on the table and was working on the second.

“Hey,” I said, giving him a nod as I approached the table and took my seat.

He returned the nod and gestured to the waitress. I waited while Nick ordered several more drinks, including several shots of various hard alcohols. When I tried to order, he simply cut me off, “I’ll get these.”

“Thanks,” I said in return. “Is the plan to get shit faced then?”

Nick nodded, “Yep. I’m already planning on calling in sick tomorrow,” he said, taking a long pull from the beer glass. “I can’t believe you fucking let your wife go with that Garrett fuck,” he said bluntly.

“Me? What about you?” I replied, “It’s not like you have the moral high ground here.”

“There’s a difference,” he spat. “My whore of a wife didn’t tell me what she was going to do until after she’d already done it. I didn’t find out until months later that she was fucking her boss. You, on the other hand. You just let the best thing that ever happened to you walk out of your life.”

“She’s not leaving me,” I said, not liking the defensive edge I could hear in my voice.

“Not yet,” Nick added, but then shrugged, “But she probably would have cheated on you eventually anyway, so maybe this can actually work in your favor in the long run.”

“Fuck you, Nick. Just because your marriage is falling apart doesn’t mean mine will.”

Nick rolled his eyes at me, “Says the man whose wife is probably gagging on another guy’s cock at this very moment.”

I looked around the bar to see if we were gathering anyone’s attention, but luckily the few people inside weren’t paying us any attention. “Fuck you and the high horse you rode in on,” I said, putting my phone back into my pocket and standing to leave.

“Quin,” Nick nearly shouted, “Stop. I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

I turned back to the table but didn’t sit down, “I don’t need this shit right now.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he apologized again. “Just sit down. Let’s get drunk and fucking forget about all of this shit.”

The drinks finally came, but the waitress gave us some serious stink eye as she placed them on the table. I’m sure she was wondering if she was going to have to call the cops at some point during the night. Nick downed one of the shots before she even had a chance to walk away, and I saw a frustrated look pass over her face. Shaking my head, I returned my attention to the table and followed Nick’s example and downed one of the shots. It burned all the way down and felt like a firebomb when it hit my nearly empty stomach. I felt the effects almost immediately.

“Is it that bad between you and Julie?” I asked, my voice raspy sounding from the alcohol.

Nick shrugged, “We have our good days and our bad days,” he said, downing another shot. “She got home sometime this morning, but I haven’t talked to her yet… I don’t like it, but I feel like I’m fucking trapped now. I don’t want to give up on my marriage, but my job is basically tied to her. If I quit, then I’m basically out on the street, starting over. We’d have to move—assuming she’d come with me. When it comes right down to it, she doesn’t want to quit, not right now anyway.”

“What about starting a family, Sam told me you were thinking of having kids.”

Nick let out a loud belch, not even bothering to cover his mouth or stifle the noise, “Yeah, we talked about it. I wanted to, but… but it doesn’t look that’s going to work out—I don’t want to talk about that,” Nick said as I took another one of the shot glasses but only sipped at it. Getting drunk wasn’t on my favorite’s thing list. “I just don’t know how you could willingly let Sam go off with that guy. I don’t trust him.”

“Garrett?” I asked, “How do you know him?”

Nick sneered and tilted his head slightly to the side, “I don’t know him—just shit Julie’s told me. He’s just too smooth. Too put together. He’s up to something.”

I suddenly didn’t feel like sipping at my drink and downed the rest of the contents. I felt the warmth, but to less affect than the last round. “I think that’s what I’m having second thoughts about,” I confessed. “I don’t really know him… fuck,” I whispered, shaking my head, “…what have I done?”

“Well fuck. Enough of the pity party. Look,” Nick declared, “If it all goes tits up, and we end up single again because of these gold digging whores, let’s just start up our own engineering company and do it the old fashion way. With a little luck and some hard work, we can make it. And then we wouldn’t have to depend on anyone but ourselves. Then we’ll go find some trophy wives to suck our cocks.”

“You know,” I said, looking up quickly, “That’s not a bad idea, Nick—that part about going into business for ourselves, not finding a trophy wife.” I clarified.

“Of course it’s not,” Nick said, his words slightly slurred. “But I’m getting a fucking hot trophy wife. You can go pine after your soon-to-be-x all you want.”

“No, seriously. We should go into business for ourselves. We’ve got enough experience between the two of us that we wouldn’t have any trouble picking up work.”

“Huh,” was all Nick said as he sat there for a long while. “Yeah, maybe…”

I could tell Nick was thinking about it. Despite being a little drunk, the idea looked like it was taking root. As for me, it was already well planted in my mind and I was clinging to it like a lifeline. It gave me something to focus on and helped me take my mind off what my wife was doing.

Nick pushed his drink away and sat up, “If we do this, I’m not asking my old man for money. We’ll have to fund this on our own.”

I nodded in agreement, “If we start taking jobs on the side, we could start slowly building clientele until we have enough cashflow to make it full time.”

“That’ll mean a fucking workload from hell man. I mean nights, weekends, holidays… we’re going to have to work like dogs to get it off the ground. Just getting the bonding and insurances we’ll need is going to be a big hurdle,” Nick said thoughtfully.

“Yes, but that investment is for our own pockets, not for someone higher up the food chain,” I said.

“Alright, I’m in. Let’s do this,” Nick said, holding out his hand. I nodded in agreement and shook it.

-_-

Samantha,

The day had been long and exhausting, filled with one meeting after another, interviewing potential agents and watching presentations of the potential real estate companies that might represent the Group’s interest. I felt inadequately prepared but did the best I could to ask cogent questions and see past the marketing fluff. When we arrived back at Garrett’s house, which in the daylight I discovered was more a beach house, only perched up on one of the higher cliffs to give one the most incredible 360-degree view, I sat out on the balcony and ate the sections of white pineapple we’d purchased after dinner. I didn’t know pineapple came in white—it was the sweetest tasting fruit I’d ever eaten.

After our… lovemaking in the morning, the rest of the day had been pure business, with Garrett treating me as more of a coworker than a lover, we had gone to dinner and discussed what we’d learned through the day. Even getting back to the house, Garrett was immediately on the phone, leaving me with a few minutes alone. Watching another amazing sunset, I thought about the morning. Garrett hadn’t fucked me. He wasn’t looking to just get a leg over, to have a quickie to knock down his morning wood. No… it was emotional, and intense—or at least that’s the way it felt. And my girly-bits agreed, I realized as I flushed with embarrassment at the thought. Despite feeling a soreness I didn’t know was possible, my vagina ached for more.

Touching myself gently, I sat back and enjoyed the solitude, listening to the sound of birds I knew I couldn’t identify, when I suddenly remembered Garrett’s mention of books I should read on his Kindle. I entered his office; his feet were up on the desk and he looked well-immersed in the conversation. When he finally did notice me, I mouthed the word Kindle to him. He smiled and nodded, and then rooted through his bag until he pulled it out and passed it to me.

Returning to my balcony chair, I turned it on and started looking through the library. I scrolled past books about the Gulf War, World War II, and the Civil War; numerous Classics such as War and Peace were also downloaded, but to my disappointment were unread—or at least showed zero on the progress bar. It took several minutes, but eventually I came across a book called, “Cuckold’s Chasm.” Seeing it was the eighth book in the series, I continued scrolling until I found the first novel.

The covers were certainly erotic, which accurately portrayed their contents I quickly discovered as I began to read. One talent I’ve always had that has served me well was the ability to speed read and maintain a high retention rate. These books were written to be pure smut, or what blokes back home would call, material for the wank-bank, so I clipped through the pages at a quick pace. The writing was dreadful, but the ideas were all I cared about as I read a fictitious story about a wife who convinced her husband that she needed a boyfriend to take care of her sexual needs. The boyfriend was a wealthy black man who, together with the other man’s wife, enjoyed an active sex life and gave the husband the cuckold experiences he craved. The book’s conflict was primarily the misunderstanding between the husband and the wife, as well as the irresponsibility of the wife when her sex drive overrode her high decision-making abilities.

Despite the book’s poor marks for literary value, I found myself immersed, my earlier excitement spiked as I read. When I felt a hand on my shoulder I started in a jerk, realizing at the same moment that my hand had been inside of my knickers and caressing the folds of my lower lips. I flushed a new shade of red, which I knew Garrett noticed because he chuckled as he took the seat next to me in the patio chair.

“Interesting read?” Garrett asked, pushing his Reef flip flops off his feet and relaxing into the chair. I couldn’t look him in the eye as I tried to discreetly wipe my juices from my fingers. “Samantha,” he said, waiting until I met his gaze. “Please don’t feel inhibited around me. You have no idea how much I enjoyed watching you.”

“How long were you watching me?” I spluttered, feeling my embarrassment being replaced by anger.

“Maybe fifteen minutes,” he said with a confident voice, giving me a reassuring smile, “You are so beautiful,” he told me, his voice perfectly calm and without any perceivable guile.

“Garrett,” I said, feeling filled with an intense bashfulness at my inability to take a compliment. “I’m average at best,” I managed to finally spit out.

Garratt laughed, “Average?” he blurted, shaking his head at me but his smile widening. “Well, think what you will, but if I get a reaction like that every time I call you attractive, you’re going to be a constant shade of red.”

“I think I liked Tico Real Estate the most today,” I said, completely changing the subject.

Garrett nodded, “Me too,” he agreed. “But work is over for the day, so we’ll have to discuss that more tomorrow on our way back to take you home—unless you just want to have sex the entire way. I’m good with that, too.”

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, “Stop taking the piss, Mr. Morgan,” I said, knowing he was well traveled enough to know what I meant.

“Trust me, I’m not,” Garrett spoke, his tone suddenly somber and heartfelt, “This morning was something I’ve never experienced before… to be honest, I’m a little blown away… I’ve never shared something like that with anyone.”

I felt my heartbeat quicken at the mention of this morning’s session, “Garrett,” I said, my voice hesitant but insistent, “We can’t forget that I’m married. I will never leave my—”

“—You misunderstand me,” Garrett said quickly, holding his hands palms up, “I have no desire to come between you and your husband. Please trust me when I tell you that.”

I nodded slowly, “I do.”

His easy smile pulled at the corners of his lips, “But you’ve got to admit, we have some chemistry between us,” he said almost teasingly.

I felt a smile pulling at my own lips, “It was, intense…” I said, unable to hold his gaze.

“So,” Garrett said, sitting up in the patio chair, “You found the cuckold fantasy books I was telling you about?”

I felt myself blush again and cursed under my breath, why was my body being such a teenage girl. “I’m surprised you read those books. You don’t seem the type.” I said, handing the Kindle back to him.

“Keep it,” Garrett said, waving it off, “Read the rest of the books—I’m curious to know what you think. Besides, now that I have the Kindle app on my phone, I never use the device anymore.” When I set the reader back on my lap and he continued, “I have a close friend whose wife has cuckolded him for years – they were actually at the Braxton party the same time you were. I’ve always found them to be such an interesting couple. I mean they’ve certainly had their highs and lows, but no matter how extreme they get, they always seem to pull it back together,” Garrett paused again until I looked up. “I think you and Quinton are very similar in a lot of ways, and I think this is something you both need.”

I sighed, squeezing the Kindle’s hard plastic in my fingers, “Maybe,” I conceded, taking a deep breath, “My husband… well, he seems to want this. You saw the texts last night. I don’t completely understand it, but it makes him happy.”

“That’s why I want you to read the books. Gleam a few ideas from them. Try them out. See how Quinton reacts. I think it’ll help you find where your husband lands on the spectrum. And given time, I think you’ll start to understand him better.”

I nodded as Garrett spoke, my mind still having difficulty accepting how much my life was going to change—how much it had already changed. Was Garrett wanting the kind of relationship that was written about in the books, did he want to be the boyfriend? He was already my boss, so how would that work exactly. These questions and a hundred more flooded my mind.

“Why?” I asked bluntly.

“Why” Garrett repeated, a look of confusion crossing his features.

“Why?” I said again, “Why me? Why have you taken such an interest in me?” I continued, gathering my thoughts and wanting to find better answers, “You’re obviously very affluent, you can travel, live where you choose, have any kind of relationship with whomever you want. I want to know why me?”

Garrett leaned forward, inhaling deeply, his lips pursed in thought. “Fair questions,” he said, giving me no further reactions to read, “Candidly, I’ve been trying to figure this out myself… Sam, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, and some of my decisions, some of my actions have really hurt people. But I’m not that guy anymore.

“I can’t explain why, but I knew I wanted you the first time I saw you… I’d never felt that for anyone before, and even though you were married, I wanted you,” said Garrett, running his hand through his hair, “So, I talked to my friend and learned more about the cuckold relationship he and his wife had—he’s actually the one that recommended the books to me, said it would help me understand the fetish a little better.”

“Did it?” I asked.

“Yeah, some… I’m not a cuck by nature, but conceptually, I can understand it. Yet, I’m not really the bull type either, so while I found the books interesting, it’s far from my ultimate fantasy,” Garrett said, leaning over and picking up his Reef flip flops. “I want you—even if it’s only for a few days a week. I find you dangerously gorgeous, but you’re not some vapid bimbo. You have a sharp mind. You’re someone I can talk to. You’re unique, and interesting, and not afraid to speak your mind when you think it’s important…But to have you in my life, I know it has to work for you and your husband.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” I said, pondering what to say next, and trying to discern my own feelings, “But can something like this really work long-term? I know you say your friend has made it work for a long time, but what happens if we can’t, if you and I start to do nothing but row and don’t want to see each other anymore?”

Garrett let his flip flops fall to the deck and slid his feet back inside, “That’s exactly why I don’t want to come between you and your husband,” Garrett said, standing up and offering his hand. I took it and stood as he said, “I can’t promise that the future would be a happily-ever-after ending with me, but from what I can see in your relationship with Quinton, he’ll always be there for you. So, if it ends in disaster with me, you wont lose the most important things in your life.”

I let him pull me in close as we walked back inside the house. I looked up at him, meeting his eyes, “You’re quickly becoming one of those important things in my life,” I said, feeling a stab of pleasure at the genuine smile that lit his features.

“That’s why I’m thinking maybe we should head to Cali earlier than planned tomorrow. If you’re okay with it, I was thinking maybe the three of us can talk,” Garrett offered.

I nodded energetically. Despite having had an amazing couple of days with Garrett, I was feeling anxious to see my husband again. “I think that’s a great idea, Mr. Morgan,” I said, pulling myself onto my tippy toes and giving him chaste kiss on the cheek.

-_-

Having continuous sex for nearly three hours had tested Garrett’s staying power, but it made slipping out of bed without waking Samantha easy, she didn’t stir in the slightest as he extracted himself from her sleeping form. She really was beautiful, he thought as he made his way to the kitchen and downed two large glasses of water. He then went to his office and turned on his laptop.

Garrett unlocked his cell phone and skimmed through his emails and texts for several minutes before entering his contacts and dialing the east coast number.

“Garrett,” said a groggy voice, “What the fuck, it’s not even five in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s earlier here, so quit your whining, Mike,” Garrett replied, leaning back in his chair. “Are we still on to meet Aksel next month?”

“I don’t know anymore. That meeting’s pushed so many times, but I think so. I’ll call later this morning and try to get a confirmation. If they don’t make some changes soon, their entire system’s going to be hacked by someone with some real nasty motives, and I won’t be able to do anything about it,” said the caller. “You coming to New York?”

“No, plans changed. I brought Samantha here to the villa.”

“Oh,” said Mike, surprise easily heard in his voice. “I guess we haven’t talked in a while. I didn’t realize she accepted your offer.”

“She did, it just took a while for her and her husband to feel that itch again,” Garrett said, stroking his short beard and putting his bare feet on the desk.

Mike laughed, “I knew I read her husband right that night. I knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

“I’ll never understand you, Mike,” Garrett admitted, shaking his head and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I was going to tell you that you don’t have to, but if you’re going to be their bull—”

“—I’m not going to be their bull,” Garrett interrupted. “That’s just—not me.”

“Er—if you’re fucking her, and her husband knows it, you kind of already are,” said Mike, “You might as well accept the role and enjoy the experience.”

Garrett sat thought fully for a long moment before answering, “It is something of a power trip. I’ll give you that.”

“And you haven’t even scratched the surface. If you want, my offer to help still stands. I have a pretty good idea what will give the couple a thrill,” Mike offered.

“Maybe, I’ll think about it. But what I want for Samantha is very different than what you want for your wife,” said Garrett.

“That’s just it, Garrett. What I want for my wife isn’t important. What I told you before is still true, the more you do to crush his soul, the happier he’ll be. We cucks are happiest when we’re at our most miserable. It’s in his nature to flirt with the danger of losing her.”

Garrett half listened as Mike continued, but his thoughts were back with the young woman sleeping in his bed. Did he want to be a bull in someone’s relationship? Or would it be easier to just slowly pull her away, all the while the husband would be letting out more and more and more rope, until the time came to hang him with it and keep Samantha to himself. Was that what he wanted? He’d certainly done worst things in the past. Garrett felt the blood swirl to his cock as he thought about the young British girl, her breasts swelling and stomach protruding, pregnant with his child.

Garrett shook himself. It was too easy to let the monster inside of him wake. But that had proved his downfall before. He needed to be more conscious of his thoughts. But Sam had a way of making him lose control of those.

“Sorry,” Garrett spoke up, unsure of what Mike was talking about but cutting him off anyway, “I need to go. I think Noah’s headed your direction soon, don’t listen to him when he starts talking about me ripping him off on the Vistas home. And call me back when you get ahold of Aksel.

[sabya167]

God help Quinton if Mike Andrews supplies ideas to cuckold him. Did Mike listen and understood fully what Garret told him about having different plans for Samantha? If no, then fine. If yes, then it must be another and a different Mike Andrews to be approving of that. I think Garrett's comment didn't register with Mike instantly as he was engrossed in his own flow of words. Looking forward to the three- way talk. You bring out the gist of this kink beautifully in several one- liners.

[Ky_Da]

God help Quinton if Mike Andrews supplies ideas to cuckold him. Did Mike listen and understood fully what Garret told him about having different plans for Samantha? If no, then fine. If yes, then it must be another and a different Mike Andrews to be approving of that. I think Garrett's comment didn't register with Mike instantly as he was engrossed in his own flow of words. Looking forward to the three- way talk. You bring out the gist of this kink beautifully in several one- liners.

I left off the quotation marks because that was meant to be inner thoughts. Maybe I should put a thought tag on the paragraph if it’s confusing. Mike isn’t meant to know those thoughts. Thanks for reading and commenting. MaybeI should just PM you the chapter updates directly, haha.

[sabya167]

I understand now what happened. It was a typing goof-up. You could have either typed " thought Garrett" instead of "said Garrett" or not give the quotation marks where he is expressing his inner thoughts. Got it. Confusion cleared. Thanks Ky.

[sabya167]

Don't lose heart Ky. The story is still relatively in its early days. Not much really has happened till now. How Garett plays his cards, how or whether or not Sam's guarded and alert mind is seduced, whether Garett can sucessfully replace Quin in Sam's heart and cause an alienation of affection,etc., etc., etc.,etc
, are all in the womb of the future. As it developes further, you never know what will catch people's imagination and when. So, I'd suggest, keep telling your story the way it formed in your mind and leave it to people to be interested and invested in it in due time. I have full faith in your ability to fascinate and surprise us with unexpected twists and turns in the plot. Really looking forward to the 3 way meet.Very best.

[txrockdog]

Don’t think we aren’t reading and enjoying just because we aren’t posting after each installment. I seem to have the thread killer touch...as soon as I post, the thread goes dark. I didn’t want to inflict that on my fellow readers so early in the story.

My, seriously now...you are a very gifted writer. Please find time in your life to keep doing this. I don’t mean that selfishly to get us more material here, but to say that you obviously put a lot of thought and emotion into carefully describing the scenes you write about. That time to think and consider makes the story so much better for us, but I believe it is also a good safe way for you to wrap your head around how you feel about the games you and Jaimee play. Even if you aren’t able to post here often or regularly, take a little time for yourself to keep writing, as I think it is good for you. Thanks again for sharing it with us...it is the deeply personal thoughts you express in your writing that set it well above the typical run of the mill chuck story.

[subtoall]

... but I believe it is also a good safe way for you to wrap your head around how you feel about the games you and Jaimee play. Even if you aren’t able to post here often or regularly, take a little time for yourself to keep writing, as I think it is good for you.

This.

And OMG, poor Quin. He has no idea what misery awaits him!

[zerf]

These last days it was impossible for me to read but today I could finally read the pending chapters and I must say WOW.

I would just like to comment 2 things:

1) What kind of cuckold do you think Quinton is? It is hard for me to think that he is one of those who like to suffer extreme humiliations, but I think he might like some thrash talk.

2)I find it super interesting to see the evolution that Garret will have. Their relationship will be interesting since Samantha, Quinton and Garret will be learning about their roles in this new "relationship"

[sabya167]

I can't even begin to imagine the kind of efforts you are putting in for this. The endless hours, breathless concentration, intense visualisation that have gone into writing the scenes and the chapters are beyond my imagination.And the result? It's a reward in itself. Seems this is your way of keeping in touch with the game, at the moment, albeit vicariously. What you want badly but know you should never have is coming out thru' these pages. Hell, if I try to write a story like this, I know I'll end up breaking my laptop in frustration within half hour.

[offendedgame]

I went back and re-read the whole story to remember who Garrett was. Lol

I like the story so far, keep it up.

Can you post a link of this story in your other thread? I think it will get you more people.

Also, didn't you post this story in literotica a while back in the first chapters? Are you still doing that?

[Ky_Da]

Quinton,

Before Sam had left for work on Monday, she had only told me that she would be home sometime Wednesday. I had secretly hoped that would mean early Monday, but receiving no communication with her throughout the day, I was starting to worry. That’s why I was surprised and relieved to see Sam’s Rav4 parked inside the garage, the large door still open like she’d only just arrived. But my relief was quickly replaced by irritation, seeing a white Tesla Model S parked in my usual spot on the driveway.

“Fucking dick,” I said out loud in the car, parking next to the Tesla. I was ninty-nine percent certain the car belonged to Garrett, my wife’s new…, What? I questioned myself, what was Garrett, her boss, her friend’s with benefits, her lover? Thoughts of my wife fucking her boss at work made my dick harden as I walked toward the front door. The late summer sun burned the skin on my face as I walked. Visions of my wife dressed like a smoking hot secretary, going down on her boss while he sat in his office chair talking business and smoking a cigar ran through my mind. My raging hardon making it even more difficult to walk and not show the quickly pitching tent in my slacks.

Entering the house, I let the screen door slam noisily behind me, and then pushed the door shut with my foot.

“Quinton,” my wife yelped, turning her upper body to look at me, her lower half straddling Garrett’s lap. She scrambled to her feet and walked to me, steeling a glance at the clock above the fireplace mantle and then walked quickly toward me. Her skin was flush, her pouty lips swollen and red.

I took her into my arms as she reached out to embrace me, breathing her in holding her close to my body. Her hair smelled different. She smelled different.

“I’m glad your home,” I said, feeling guarded with Garrett still sitting in my lazy boy chair.

“I’m happy to be back. I’ve got so much to tell you,” she said, pulling away from the embrace. “Garrett and I wanted to have a bit of a chat—just the three of us, alright?”

“Sure, of course,” I said, glancing towards Garrett. He gave me a forced smile and an almost imperceptible nod, looking way too comfortable in my chair. What a dick.

“I’m going to pop into the kitchen before we get started, you want a coffee?” she asked, and I nodded.

I set my work bag on the floor and walked into room, hoping Garrett would get out of my chair, or at least stand up to great me. This was only our second time meeting, and he was the guest in our home. If roles would have been reversed, I know I would have felt extremely awkward sitting in another man’s chair, but Garrett looked quite at home, not awkward in the slightest. I sat stiffly on the couch, hoping my wife would hurry the fuck up.

Garrett was dressed in jeans and a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt with Reef flip flops on his feet. “Magnum PI fan?” I asked, not caring if Garrett didn’t like me.

Garrett laughed good naturedly and shrugged, “Just missing the Ferrari I guess,” he said, seemingly unphased by my barb. “You have a nice home, Quinton,” he said, holding gaze long enough to make me uncomfortable.

I rolled my eyes and slumped into the couch, “Please—compared to what you’re used to, this is probably a peasant shack.”

“You misunderstand me, there’s a difference between a house and a home. I might have a fancy house, but it doesn’t feel like a home. Not like this place does,” Garrett said, giving me pause.

Several long, uncomfortable minutes later, Samantha entered the room and set three cups onto the coffee table. She handed one to me, and then taking the other two cups, sat on Garrett’s lap and handed one of the cups to him. She curled into his side and took a long sip of her drink, and I felt an indescribable weight of despair, like a car had been dropped from a tall building, landing directly on my head. But at the same time, it felt like I’d been given a shot with a hypodermic needle containing pure adrenaline. It was the craziest feeling as the two emotions swirled within my like two tornados.

I took a drink from my cup. All the while, feeling a tight, shortness of breath. “Ah! Tea?” I said, pulling the cup from my mouth. “I thought you said you were getting coffee.”

“You already drink too much coffee, and besides, tea is better for you,” she said, taking a sip from her cup and looking smugly proud of herself. “Don’t act like I’m making you drink battery acid or something,” she said, seeing my face as I set the cup down.

It was then I noticed Garrett drinking his cup without complaint, “Don’t tell me she’s already got you hooked on the Earl Grey crap she drinks,” I said in a faux-mocking tone, trying to lift the heaviness I felt in the room.

“No, not at all,” Garrett replied. Samantha whirled on him, but he went on unphased, “But she was kind enough to spare me and give me coffee instead.”

Tilting my head, I looked at my wife, “He gets the coffee, but you force the tea on me?”

For the briefest of moments, I saw a flash of guilt cross my wife’s features, her demeanor slightly changed. But as fast as I’d noticed it, it had disappeared. “Garrett’s our guest,” she said defensively, and then added, “He has to catch a flight this evening, but I don’t want the caffeine keeping you up all night.”

Her words felt like a hot knife plunged into my guts. I had assumed we would be up late tonight, reconnecting after her absence, but it seemed she had something else in mind. I desperately wanted her back. Seeing her sit with Garrett was a constant mental assault. I needed to have sex with her, and not just for the simple act of pleasure or to get release, but to reconnect with her again. I needed her physically in order to be reassured that I my marriage, my life wasn’t over. The two tornados in my soul grew. One was emotional angst, and mental and physical torture; the other adrenaline and profound pleasure.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” I asked, my voice caught, thick with emotion.

“You, mainly,” Answered Garrett.

This caught me flat-footed and unprepared, “Me?” was all I could say.

“Yes, you,” my wife said, her smile warm and comforting. “I made my own decision about going to work for Mr. Morgan, but I want to discuss it with you before going any further.”

“It looks pretty obvious what you’ve decided, what do you want from me,” I asked, my voice tainted with a bitter edge.

“Quin,” my wife said, lowering her cup to her lap, “I do want to take the position—and I’ll tell you more details tonight—but despite what you’re thinking happened this weekend, I did actually work very hard.”

“Yeah, I bet,” I mumbled sarcastically.

“Quin!” my wife nearly yelled, and got to her feet, her hands on her hips, “Quit being such a thick prat. Mr. Morgan wanted to come here so we could have an open talk, as adults. Why are you acting like such a child?”

“Me!?” I blurted in retort, “Sam, you’re my wife, and the only thing I got from you was a quick text Monday night. I was sick with worry the whole time. You were in another country, traveling all over the fucking place, and I had no idea what was going on.”

“That’s my fault,” Garrett said, speaking up again, “I’m sorry about that,” he turned toward my wife, “He’s right, Samantha, I should have given you more access to a phone you could have used. That will have to be an issue we resolve if we proceed forward.” Garrett then turned toward me, “Quinton, your wife did a lot of good work for me this week—no double entendre intended. She’ll be a real asset to me and my investment group, but as you know, this position involves a lot more than a simple opportunity for gainful employment.” When Garrett saw that he had both our attention and that I wasn’t going to protest, he continued, “As you’ve also correctly assumed, I had sex with your wife on numerous occasions,” he said, putting it so bluntly that I felt myself disarmed completely, like all my bark had just evaporated. “Now, while I value this relationship, and want it to continue, it can only be successful if you’re apart of it.”

“Apart how?” I asked, unsure of what Garrett was eluding to.

“That’s ultimately up to you,” Garrett said, “Financially, Samantha will be well compensated. And while the demands on her time will occasionally be high, I think we can make sure she has a good work-life balance. So, I think the work and financial part of the equation is, let’s say, at a good risk versus reward ratio. But,” Garrett said, pausing for emphasis, “she’s made it very clear to me that she will not jeopardize her marriage—and I have no wish to do that. Therefore, Quinton, I ask you, are you okay with me continuing to sleep with your wife.”

The silence hung heavily after the question. I inhaled deeply, forgetting that I hadn’t taken a breath in a long moment. Sam stood quietly, watching me carefully but with a wishful expression on her face. I knew at an instance she wanted this. And if I was completely honest with myself… so did I. The tornados were raging, becoming larger and more powerful with each passing second. But I knew this was a key moment—a tipping point that would further change the course of our lives. Up to now, I had been clinging on to the last fading vines as fall became winter. I had tried to resist the temptations that were constantly being whispered in my ears. In the end, there was no decision. For the last year, I’d tried to delude myself that I could beat these cuckold feelings. That I was stronger than they were. But all I’d done is run up a tree as I was being chased by a hungry grizzly bear. The choices I’d made previously had led me to this point, had pushed me to the end of the thinnest tree limb. Those decisions couldn’t be undone, and now there was no going back.

I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes, mentally picturing the tornadoes below me. “Yes,” I said, stepping off the straining branch and allowing myself to be sucked into the power of the storm.

Seconds passed, then minutes, as we all looked at each other, none of us knowing exactly what to say next. My wife looked happy—ecstatic even. That was good. That was what I wanted. Another man was going to be part of her life; but giving her something I could not. The thought both excited me and filled me with terror.

“What do you need to make this work,” Garrett asked me, finally breaking the quiet of the room. “I know something about the psychology of one cuckolded, but it varies too much for me to make assumptions. We need you—initially at least—to tell us what you need, what boundaries you have, what direction you want to go…”

“I won’t do this if it doesn’t make you happy,” my wife said, standing almost directly between Garrett and myself.

I nodded slowly and scooched forward to the front edge of the couch and looked directly at my wife, “I haven’t changed my mind,” I assured her, “But I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’m not there with you… I’m… I’m terrified of losing you, Sam, but I want you to have the freedom to make your own choices, and that includes with whom you have sex.”

Samantha took a step toward me but stopped herself. She looked happy, her smile sincere and full of joy, “Thank you, Quin. I will try to always deserve that trust.”

“I think I know something that might help,” Garrett announced, pulling our attention back to him, “Quin, because of position I’m in, I can’t take chances of phones and laptops being hacked. So, as part of your wife’s job, we’ll provide you with an encrypted phone and laptop. It’ll be set up for secure communications, which should help keep you in contact with each other when she’s out of town.”

“Sounds fair,” I agreed.

“That’s an easy enough solution,” Garrett said, turning his attention wholly on me, “but coming back to what I’d asked about, we need you to tell us what you need out of this relationship—what do you need emotionally, sexually, etc.”

“I need some time to think about it,” I said, not feeling at all comfortable to talk about that with Garrett. It was a conversation I wanted to have with Sam first and foremost.”

“That’s understandable,” Garrett said. He looked down at his watch and then looked at Sam, “I think we’ve made some good progress this week, and I wouldn’t mind getting an earlier start to the airport.” Garrett then stood and stepped closer to Samantha, “You’re off the clock as soon as I’m out the door, okay?”

My wife smiled and nodded. Garrett then leaned down and wrapped her into his arms, kissing her deeply and with a passion that surprised me. The kiss was uncomfortably long, lasting for several long minutes. My dick had been almost constantly hard. But seeing this display of affection almost made me lose control and cum in my pants. In the end, he picked her up off her feet and squeezed her tightly, saying something in her ear that I couldn’t catch, but the blush I saw brighten her features meant that it was something very personal.

Garrett shook my hand on his way out. The door closed but my wife waited until the Tesla left the driveway before turning to me. She had a hunger in her eyes I’ve never in all our marriage seen before. Then, like a sprinter jumping out of the starting blocks, she ran at me, knocking me to the ground in the process. I protested when my ass painfully hit the hardwood floor, but before a single word came out of my mouth, her hands were pulling my shirt out of my pants and trying to undo my belt at the same time.

“I need you to fuck me,” she growled, pulling the front of my shirt so hard several of the buttons came off and skidded across the floor.

“Okay, okay,” I said, trying to assist but only having my hands batted away when I wasn’t fast enough.

“Taking too long,” she gasped, her breaths coming in heavy pants. Suddenly, she gave up on my pants and crawled up my chest, planting her sopping wet pussy directly on my face.

“No panties?” I asked as best I could, my mouth half covered by her pussy, her juices dripping down and coating my nose, mouth, and cheeks.

She rode me aggressively, like you could imagine the demon possessed Dana character in Ghost Busters would do if the movie had been rated X. I don’t know how many times she orgasmed using my face as a washboard, but it was more than a few. As I was being basically waterboarded with my wife’s pussy, and had to fight to breathe, I swear I felt like I was going to pass out. At some point she began to slow, and eventually pulled off me to sit on my chest. Her body was slicked with sweat, and her face was flushed red. God she looked sexier than I’d ever seen her before.

But her recess was short, and before I’d caught my own breath, she was pulling off my pants and boxer shorts, this time with a more measured touch. With my dick freed and ready, she sank her hips toward mine, taking me inside her. I couldn’t describe it exactly, but she did feel different to me. It was like one second I felt nothing, and the next I felt this blissful warmth around my dick, but I didn’t feel the normal friction I’m used to. I was sure Garrett had something to do with it, but it actually worked out better for me because without some of that touch and pressure around my dick, I lasted much longer than usual.

We fucked, we made love, we connected like we’ve never connected before, Samantha telling me exactly what she wanted me to make the most of our lovemaking. I was in heaven like I never thought possible. Later, we showered, had sex again on the bathroom sink, and showered one more time. We rooted through the refrigerator and scavenged for something quick to eat and then returned to the bedroom. I was done, however, and no amount of coaxing was going to bring my dick back to life, so we spent several hours kissing, touching, and holding each other.

It was near midnight before we began to talk. Thoughts of calling is sick were tempting because I knew I was going to be worthless for work the next day. And I was hoping for more of this tomorrow, once I’d had a chance to sleep.

“I think I have a good idea, but I need for you to tell me, Quin. What do you want?” she asked me once we were curled up and under the covers preparing to go to sleep.

My brain was foggy with sleep as my wife repeated Garrett’s question. “More of this,” I said, knowing that the sex we’d just had was definitely on that list.

“Obviously this, yeah,” she said, “But I know you, Quin, I know there’s more you want.”

“Well if you know, why don’t you just do it? Why do I have to say it?”

“Because Garrett thinks it’s important, and I agree, we don’t want to miscommunicate and end up rowing about something stupid,” Samantha said.

The mention of Garrett’s opinion irritated me, but I let it go. I knew what I wanted, so why the fuck was it so hard to say out loud?! I raged in my own head. Finally, sighing heavily, I said, “I want to see it,” I said, my voice timidly embarrassing. I cleared my throat, not willing to sound like such a pussy, “I want to watch?”

With the moonlight passing through our bedroom window, I could had just enough light to see my wife smile widely at me, her eyes squinting as she did, “I know,” she said brazenly, “You want to watch Mr. Morgan’s large cock stretch out my pussy?”

I laughed lightly, shaking my head, ‘Fuck Sam, what has gotten into you?”

“Mr. Morgan’s cock for one thing,” she said, continuing to tease me, but her voice was so serious I was starting to question if she was teasing me or not. It felt real.

I leaned up on my elbow so I could look at her more clearly, “Okay, I need my Samantha back for a little while. I need to have this conversation with her.” As I spoke, a small part of me thought she might get all glassy eyed and say, ‘There is no Sam, there is only Zuul, a demonic succubus’. Sorry, another Ghost Buster reference.

Samantha nodded once and laid her head on the pillow, “Of course. I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit swept up in all of this for a few days. Almost like living an alter ego, yeah,” she said, after taking several deep, calming breaths.

“It was that much fun, huh?” I said rhetorically, “I mean, I’m not complaining. I’ve never had a sexual experience like I had tonight. It makes me think I’ve been all fucked up about sex until today. Like I’ve been going through the motions but not understanding what I was doing.”

“I feel the same way,” she confirmed, “That’s part of the reason I want to continue. I think we’ve only begun to experience a small part of something much bigger. I feel awake and alive like I’ve never felt before.”

“I can tell,” I said in awe.

Samantha turned to me and placed her hand on my chest, “I knew you would want to watch, and we’re going to work that out for next week. Mr. Morgan has never done something like this, so it’ll be a first experience for all of us.”

“Why do you call him Mr. Morgan? I would think as close as you’ve become this week, you’d be on a first name basis.”

I felt her nails, short as they always are, scratch my skin, “Because he asked me to,” she replied. I felt a shiver but also a twitch in my dick. “We decided that if I call him Garrett, then he knows I need to talk about something serious, and I want to talk with him alone.” I nodded and she continued, “I have to go to work Thursday through Saturday next week, but when we get back Saturday night, we could… you know… do it then,” she said, a touch of shyness creeping in as she spoke, her more reserved personality returning.

It suddenly felt hard to swallow, “I’d like that,” I said, my voice sounded hoarse from the lust coursing through me. My mind knew that my wife had been having sex with another man, but the new thought of watching her, actually seeing it happen, made my heart begin to race.

Samantha reached down and lightly touched my dick, “That really turns you on, yeah?” she asked me, her voice laced with wonder and amusement. “Average Joe seems to like the idea.”

“You know it does,” I said, enjoying the feelings coursing through me, “why do you keep asking me?”

Her touch faltered for a moment, “I guess I just need to be sure. What we’re doing is so mental that I keep thinking you’re going to wake up one day and suddenly change your mind, and then be furious with me for what I’ve done.”

“I know it’s crazy,” I said reflexively, focusing on enjoying the cacophony of new and erotic emotions swirling through my frame. It was intoxicating. Feeling emboldened, I added, “but I’ll always be there for you.”

“You really mean that, right?” she asked.

“Yes, always,” I confirmed, “What I find most exciting about all of this is how much pleasure it will give you. The more you let yourself enjoy it—truly let yourself fall into it, the more I’m going to enjoy it.”

She was silent for several long minutes, and I laid there in blissful joy as she continued to gently stroke my cock, “You do really like all of this, don’t you? It’s almost like a type of Viagra for you, only natural.”

“Yeah… thanks for not being so accepting of all of this. I think most wives would be very hurt and throw their husbands out,” I said honestly. As fucked up as all this was, somehow, we were living out my wildest dreams.

Samantha was quiet for a long moment, “…I was hurt at first. It was very confusing… but if I’m honest about it, I was curious what it would be like. I mean people do the most mental shite all the time, and, well, I’ve always wondered what it would be like.”

“And what was it like?” I probed, hoping to find out more details of her work trip.

“It was brilliant, Quin. Bloody brilliant,” she said, giving me an almost hour-by-hour accounting of from the time she left home to her return.

My erect dick throbbed the entire time, reinforcing in both our minds that this was something I deeply wanted. “Will Garrett want to come back to our house Saturday night?” I asked as she finished.

“Like here, in our bed? Would you be okay with that?” she asked apprehensively. “We could get a hotel if that’s a better idea.”

It was hard to think with the volume of blood that was rushing through my head, but I didn’t want the feelings to stop, and each new thought, brought on a new and more powerful wave of emotion. “Yes, if Garrett’s comfortable with it, come back here.” I said, pushing my pelvis out and trying to get closer to another release. I’d never cum so many times in my life, but I desperately needed this one.

“Very well then,” Samantha said, and I could hear her smile in her voice. “I’ll bring my lover home. And you can watch as he takes me here in our bed while you sit and watch quietly from the corner.”

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Or maybe I’ll make you stand in the hall outside where you can only listen,” she further teased.

It felt like my equilibrium had completely disappeared as my world spun. My wife applying only enough pressure to keep me at the leading edge of my orgasm. “What did Garrett tell you when he left?” I asked through my labored breathing.

My wife leaned in closely to where her lips were next to my ear and whispered, “He said he hopes you understand what you agreed to, that soon I will crave sex with him more than I do with you…” she paused and then added in a whisper so soft I could barely hear it, “But you should know, that’s already happened.”

[subtoall]

Fuck Ky, You and your chapter endings! That one is really hot.

[Jacko]

I get that I'm no cuckold, so I "don't understand all of this" - but I really don't understand why a sexual kink gets turned into being a complete submissive and doormat to be treated almost with contempt, even if it's done with a smile.

Why does a character like Quin not get to be someone who puts his foot down and say, my rules? 1. get out of my chair, 2. my WIFE gets me a coffee when she says she gets me a coffee, 3. my wife sits in MY lap when I get home and haven't seen her in days, the home you just complimented?

Again, I'm no cuck but the lack of respect from both Sam and Garrett so soon, isn't testing the waters but asking for an explosion.

[offendedgame]

I get that I'm no cuckold, so I "don't understand all of this" - but I really don't understand why a sexual kink gets turned into being a complete submissive and doormat to be treated almost with contempt, even if it's done with a smile.

Why does a character like Quin not get to be someone who puts his foot down and say, my rules? 1. get out of my chair, 2. my WIFE gets me a coffee when she says she gets me a coffee, 3. my wife sits in MY lap when I get home and haven't seen her in days, the home you just complimented?

Again, I'm no cuck but the lack of respect from both Sam and Garrett so soon, isn't testing the waters but asking for an explosion.

Because there is a deference between a cuckold/cuckoldress realtionship and a cuckold/hotwife relationship and a Vixen/Stag relationship.

You want Quin to pus his foot down and say HIS rules? sure, but that's more like Vixen/Stag relationship.

The question you asked about why someone with a sexual kink turned into being a complete submissive..
Well, when you have more than one kink, that's what you get.
Some people like being subs and mentally teased, physically teased, or giving up control. Some like being humiliated and others like wearing panties, we're not the same.

[Ky_Da]

I get that I'm no cuckold, so I "don't understand all of this" - but I really don't understand why a sexual kink gets turned into being a complete submissive and doormat to be treated almost with contempt, even if it's done with a smile.

Why does a character like Quin not get to be someone who puts his foot down and say, my rules? 1. get out of my chair, 2. my WIFE gets me a coffee when she says she gets me a coffee, 3. my wife sits in MY lap when I get home and haven't seen her in days, the home you just complimented?

Again, I'm no cuck but the lack of respect from both Sam and Garrett so soon, isn't testing the waters but asking for an explosion.

I’ve thought a lot about your questions throughout the day, and to be candid, for a while I thought I’d just skip over your comment and not answer. Not with the intention to be rude, but because it’s not something I understand well enough myself. I honestly don’t know if I can explain it. I’ll do my best here, but I don’t think I have better than a 20% chance of being successful.

FIrst, I know this is an ongoing debate, so what I’m going to say is only my opinion. I’m not sharing my opinion to try to convince anyone, but only to explain my own thoughts and feelings. I don’t fully understand this shit myself, and I think very few share the same desires I do. For example, I posted a couple of chapters of this book on Literotica and got blasted. The majority of the comments were to the negative. I think people that write stories about incest get better reviews than those that write about cuckolding. I’m glad you’re taking the time to read along, but candidn;ly, I’m surprised you do. If you don’t understand the kink, I’m surprised you take the time to read it.

That said, I think there is a big difference between a cuckold relationship and a hot wife relationship. While both kinks might share some common ground, there are definitely a few differences. Both enjoy sharing their wives with another man, but for the cuck, there is a need for it to go further. He finds a deep pleasure in the pain of his wife squeezing his heart, in the denial, and the torment. Each couple is going to find out for themselves how far they want to take it. Some are happy to barely touch the surface; the wife might lightly tease her husband about what a better man her lover or boyfriend is, while others have a desire to try to find the lowest depths of the kind; going so far as to divorce each other and live apart while the other man continues to replace the husband in all aspects. It’s probably not healthy, but it is what it is.

You can’t judge someone simply because they enjoy things differently that you to. To some such as yourself, they would say what Garrett did to Quinton was an explosion waiting to happen. And if you were in that scenario, you would have probably thrown him out of your house. And that’s fine, it would just make for a very short and anticlimactic story. Still, others might see what Garrett did as not even coming close to testing the waters.

I hope you don’t find the above mean spirited or contentious. I’m happy to have you reading along, and thank you for the comment.

[Suchen Zucker]

Fantastic story telling Ky. It's as good as any I've read here. You have a real talent and obviously know your subject. Please keep writing.

- Suchen

[sabya167]

First person accounts are always such a joy to read and tough to write. Will we have Garret's? That would be interesting. He seems to be irresistibly drawn to Samantha but is unsure/undecided about his own end-game plan with her. Interested to know what wrong choices he made in life. He read the couple well, especially Quinton who has this innate sexual orientation but otherwise is pretty alpha in everyday life. So, Garrett is proceeding with cautious respect at first. Hope he does things to beat my imagination because the fun is always in the "didn't- see- it- coming" unpredictables. Loving it, as always.

[realcucklife]

Hi ky it’s great.
And I know you love then denial tease humiliation play. Just as much as I do.
the end of th chapter shows al sorts of promise.

[subtoall]

I get that I'm no cuckold, so I "don't understand all of this" - but I really don't understand why a sexual kink gets turned into being a complete submissive and doormat to be treated almost with contempt, even if it's done with a smile.

Why does a character like Quin not get to be someone who puts his foot down and say, my rules? 1. get out of my chair, 2. my WIFE gets me a coffee when she says she gets me a coffee, 3. my wife sits in MY lap when I get home and haven't seen her in days, the home you just complimented?

Again, I'm no cuck but the lack of respect from both Sam and Garrett so soon, isn't testing the waters but asking for an explosion.

I’ve thought a lot about your questions throughout the day, and to be candid, for a while I thought I’d just skip over your comment and not answer. Not with the intention to be rude, but because it’s not something I understand well enough myself. I honestly don’t know if I can explain it. I’ll do my best here, but I don’t think I have better than a 20% chance of being successful.

FIrst, I know this is an ongoing debate, so what I’m going to say is only my opinion. I’m not sharing my opinion to try to convince anyone, but only to explain my own thoughts and feelings. I don’t fully understand this shit myself, and I think very few share the same desires I do. For example, I posted a couple of chapters of this book on Literotica and got blasted. The majority of the comments were to the negative. I think people that write stories about incest get better reviews than those that write about cuckolding. I’m glad you’re taking the time to read along, but candidn;ly, I’m surprised you do. If you don’t understand the kink, I’m surprised you take the time to read it.

That said, I think there is a big difference between a cuckold relationship and a hot wife relationship. While both kinks might share some common ground, there are definitely a few differences. Both enjoy sharing their wives with another man, but for the cuck, there is a need for it to go further. He finds a deep pleasure in the pain of his wife squeezing his heart, in the denial, and the torment. Each couple is going to find out for themselves how far they want to take it. Some are happy to barely touch the surface; the wife might lightly tease her husband about what a better man her lover or boyfriend is, while others have a desire to try to find the lowest depths of the kind; going so far as to divorce each other and live apart while the other man continues to replace the husband in all aspects. It’s probably not healthy, but it is what it is.

You can’t judge someone simply because they enjoy things differently that you to. To some such as yourself, they would say what Garrett did to Quinton was an explosion waiting to happen. And if you were in that scenario, you would have probably thrown him out of your house. And that’s fine, it would just make for a very short and anticlimactic story. Still, others might see what Garrett did as not even coming close to testing the waters.

I hope you don’t find the above mean spirited or contentious. I’m happy to have you reading along, and thank you for the comment.

I would suggest it's also about masochism, particularly emotional masochism. I think many people typically only think of masochism as about physical pain, for example, being whipped, slapped, CBT or tit torture, etc., but emotional masochism (emotional pain) is a thing too. Emotional masochism in my view is the eroticization of our deepest "negative" feelings, such as: fear, powerlessness, worthlessness, hopelessness, vulnerability, insecurity, risk, loss, grief, terror, danger etc. These feelings are often so threatening or unbearable that in real life many people engage in sophisticated defense mechanisms (e.g. denial) to avoid feeling them, but they remain deep inside our psyches, regardless of our defense mechanisms. In my view, eroticizing them through sexual play is by itself a very healthy way of working these issues out, and owning these feelings (rather than being unconsciously owned by them) as long as all the players are careful to avoid play evolving into something too "real" which can be devastating. The dilemma I suspect for Quin and (perhaps) KY is the obsession or compulsion (much like an addiction) to push the envelope to a greater and greater degree (when play becomes too real) to get the same fix, because tolerance (more "drug" being needed to get the same high as last time) is also influencing the play. Sure it's foolish to push the envelope, but that's necessary to get the rush. For some folks a "scene" doesn't cut it. They need to risk the real thing.

This is who Mike (from XLEGLOVER's stories) and Quin are IMO. And Ky, like XLEG, is an incredibly gifted writer of this genre.

For me, there is a great irony in the widespread contempt felt for masochists, by our culture and by MANY posters on this website. And that is that masochists really are deeply courageous (if also somewhat unwise in their risk taking). Most people are far too fearful of their inner emotional life to play with them in the way masochists do.

[Jacko]

I’ve thought a lot about your questions throughout the day, and to be candid, for a while I thought I’d just skip over your comment and not answer. Not with the intention to be rude, but because it’s not something I understand well enough myself. I honestly don’t know if I can explain it.
...
If you don’t understand the kink, I’m surprised you take the time to read it.

This is who Mike (from XLEGLOVER's stories) and Quin are IMO. And Ky, like XLEG, is an incredibly gifted writer of this genre.

It's not my intention to judge, far from it. Thank you for the comments. I suppose the main thrust of my question starts from simplistic definitions. Of hotwifing, where a wife perhaps plays with the full encouragement of her husband, and perhaps the husband plays too .. moving a step beyond swinging but still more of a "team sport." Then, cuckolding, where traditionally it's been more in the "cheating" sphere and happens behind a man's back, or without his explicit approval or knowledge of all that happens.

From this, I was wondering aloud as to whether the cuckold relationship *always* must be pushed to a point where it consumes more than bedroom activities. I've read plenty of stories where a man is cuckolded but still in other areas seen as a strong, confident, successful man. Samanthasman, for one, at least claims to be like this to a degree - successful and has his own other relationships outside marriage, but still identifies as a cuckold.

I understand the author's desire (be it Ky_Da or Xleglover, etc) to explore through fiction what may be his own desires .. as I said above, I wonder if it's too narrow a definition to say that's what it means to be a cuckold now, or is just a (more extreme) point on the scale. However, I don't wish to derail the thread from the story. Feel free to PM if you have further comments

And - I read *because* I don't understand but still find the premise enticing, and as others have said, extremely well written.

Again, thank you.

[sabya167]

This is an innate/inborn feeling/emotion which is buried/dormant in everybody's psyche. Situations/ events make one discover it. If one hasn't been 'made to discover' it yet, chances are one won't relate with how many/others can receive erotic pleasure from even self-deprecation/emasculation, thru' evolution of this mental/sexual condition/ propensity.Quinton's actions are voluntary, not forced. He is man enough to say, 'Fuck you Garrett.' but CHOOSES not to, to experience/enjoy the eroticism of it all, as part of a journey already decided upon.