Cuckold's Diary 29 - "Speechless"

[Paul_Pines]

A Cuckold’s Diary, Chapter 29
“Speechless”
August 2009

INTRODUCTION
This is a story about real-life cuckolding. I am posting it for people to read for enjoyment, or education, or voyeurism, or whatever gets you off. It is about a loving relationship between a husband and wife, in which each of us has learned what turns our partner on. If you think for a moment that my wife is a bitch, you misunderstand completely. On the other hand, if you think I’m a pretty poor excuse for a man, I wouldn’t argue the point.

Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored.

Cuckold Paul
Newatthis22a@yahoo.com

THE STORY
Many years ago, my wife’s lover, Ted, explained the phrase, “topping from the bottom.” It’s a big deal in the world of domination and submission (D&s), describing the temptation of the submissive partner to control the action. Essentially, the sub is so intent on feeling truly out of control that he or she makes sure the action goes exactly as they want it to. Of course, this defeats the purpose of the whole endeavor, since they can’t lose control as long as they insist on running everything their way!

Ted has some experience in D&s, so when he saw me trying to choreograph his dates with my wife, Sally, he tried – gently – to get me to let go. Sometimes he succeeded; other times I was so fixated on being cuckolded that I would lay out the entire day’s events as if their date was a Bob Fosse musical number. Those dates were pretty intense, but I always had the thought that Sally and Ted were performing for me as much as they were fucking each other.

Apparently Sally thought that, too, because a few years ago she asked if it would be possible for me to accept not being in the bedroom with them when they fucked. I gave it a try, and it worked for us – it TOTALLY worked for the two of them, and it sort of worked for me. There were times when I felt really left out of things, and some of those times I found myself sulking outside the bedroom door, but Sally and Ted were very understanding and asked me what I needed to be okay with our new arrangement. Little by little I told them – “do this,” “tell me that” – until once again I was topping from the bottom. I might not have been with them in the bedroom, but I choreographed every minute before and after their fucking. I got them to undress in front of me before going to bed, and I got Sally to go down on Ted in front of me, too. I got them to feel each other up when they came out for lunch, and at times I even told them what I wanted them to say to me. I didn’t do it on purpose; I just couldn’t help myself.

This past May, Sally decided to give me a present to celebrate two and a half years since she stopped fucking me altogether. She said she wanted to make love with me! The result was… a disaster. Later on she told Ted that it was “like fucking an ironing board,” I was so stiff and unresponsive. For me, I could barely stay hard enough to finish. I kept thinking that I should be a great lover for her, to show her that I could do anything Ted could do, and it was absolutely terrible. Sally was kind, and cuddled me after I came, but neither of us thought it had been a great experience.

And so it was that two weeks later I found myself sitting outside the bedroom door, listening to my wife fuck her lover. I heard them moaning and groaning, crying out their pleasure. I heard him cum – loudly. I heard her cum, bouncing the bed so hard that I thought the floor would break. Soon after, I heard them fuck again, and I heard his groans increasing in pitch until he sounded like a little boy in pain. Then he came, and suddenly he was no longer a little boy, but a grown man bellowing out his orgasm. Then, yes, SHE came again, too. And all that was before lunch!

In the silence after their second round, a powerful thought struck me: he is SO much better at sex than I am, that I am lucky they let me sit outside their door when they are together. I looked down at my cock which I had been stroking, and which was now getting soft even though I hadn’t cum in days, and I remembered the sounds I had just heard. Believe me, it was not a proud moment. But it was an important one.

At that moment I realized that I AM a cuckold, in fact and by nature. I understood that we had not come to the hotel to turn me on; we were there so Sally could fuck a MAN. I was filled with shame but also with a sense of calm: all of a sudden I knew I was where I was supposed to be, outside the bedroom door while my wife fucked HIM. I knew I would be there to make them lunch and to clean up the dishes when they were done, and then I would return to my seat outside the door when they went back to bed together. When they were done I would thank Ted and take Sally home as a loving husband – a loving CUCKOLD – should do.

If you’re not a cuckold, the paragraph you just read makes no sense at all. But it made sense to me, and it led to an important decision.

After that date, I told Ted and Sally that I was done topping from the bottom. I thanked them for allowing me to be in the hotel suite with them, and I said that whatever they wanted to do on their dates would be fine with me. I thanked them – each of them – for cuckolding me, and I asked them to let me know if I started to try to take control again. They were surprised, pleased and, I think, a little doubtful that I would be able to let go.

They made a date for last Thursday. As always I made the hotel reservation at our “regular place.” In an email I asked Ted if there was anything I could do to make their date better for him, and he said he’d like me to get him a bagel to have for breakfast when he arrived. I told him that the hotel’s bagels were terrible, but I would be honored to bring him one from a great place near our home. I asked if that was all and he said, “Just bring me your wife and stay out of our way.” Shuddering, I said I could do that, too.

I really don’t think that many people consider buying bagels to be erotic, and I never had before. But I did on Wednesday afternoon. After the bagels I went to Wegman’s and bought lunch for both of them as I had done for all their earlier dates. Even there, a wonderful sense of purpose made the experience feel different: no tension, no thought about what I wanted them to do or say. I was the cuckold, running errands to make my wife’s date with her lover as perfect as I could. I might not be able to please her in bed, but I could definitely please her – and him - before and after they went to bed.

The week before their date had been incredibly busy for both of us, so we didn’t have time to talk about it in advance. I felt bad about that, but kept reminding myself that SHE was the one calling the shots, not me. When we drove to the hotel on Wednesday night she had a major headache (of course I believed her – we weren’t going to fuck anyway!), so even when we checked in we didn’t talk about sex. I got her some Advil, put something she liked on the TV, and discretely went into the other room to masturbate as I thought about the coming events. When I returned to the bedroom after jerking off (but not cumming), she was asleep. I folded the covers over her, thought about being angry that she hadn’t done anything to help me prepare for their date, and decided that I should let it go and feel bad about myself, not about her. It worked, and I even managed to get a few fitful hours’ sleep.

When my alarm went off in the morning I shut it off quickly so Sally could sleep longer. I jumped in the shower and as I washed I talked to myself about… well, about who and what I am.

“I brought my wife here because she has a date with her lover today. When he arrives I’ll open the door for him, then stand aside while he goes to her. I’ll sit with them and talk politely until they are ready for bed, then I’ll say I hope they have a good time while THAT MAN takes MY WIFE to bed. I’ll sit outside their door and listen while she gives him everything, and when they want to take a break I’ll make them lunch. When they are finished I’ll take my wife, filled with his sperm, home to our house. And I’ll be sure to thank them both for letting me be here today. I will NOT interfere, because it’s not about me. They are lovers. I’m a cuckold.”

Ted was on time. Just after 9 a.m. he knocked on the door and I let him in. Sally was sitting on the couch in a black negligee… and nothing else. As she reached up to kiss him I saw her pubic hair, and as always happens at the beginning of their dates, I had a momentary thought that I should remind her we have company and she’s exposed. It only takes a second for me to remember that Ted knows what she looks like, and that she’s dressed – rather, undressed – that way for HIM. But it never fails to tie my stomach in a knot that won’t unravel for hours.

I dutifully served breakfast to each of them, and even went down to the lobby to get hot coffee for them. I know I break several land speed records whenever I go out on an errand, as I hate missing even a moment of the short time they spend in the living room. But when I returned they were still eating, and they took their time over coffee, too. Finally, Ted reached for Sally and began kissing her as his hand started wandering over her negligee. He loves my wife’s tits, and he quickly moved from feeling her through the fabric to sliding the right strap off her shoulder.

I sat in the chair facing them as Ted exposed my wife’s right breast. As soon as her nipple came into view he let out an appreciative gasp, as if he had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life, and he lowered his mouth to suck on it. When his mouth closed around it, Sally’s head rolled back and her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sensation. Then, as her lover continued to suck on one nipple and caress the other, she opened her eyes, looked at me and smiled.

Sally and I talk about everything. Nothing is off limits between us, so we are as comfortable speaking to each other as anyone I know. Nevertheless, when I saw my wife smiling at me as her lover sucked on her naked tit, I was speechless. Her look was a combination of pleasure, comfort, satisfaction and love, and I would not have broken the mood even if I had been able to think of something to say. I tried to smile back at her, but I was filled with excitement, pain, humiliation, shame and yes, love, too. I must have looked sick to my stomach, but she understood.

It was Sally who finally broke the silence, but not by speaking to me. She pulled Ted’s face to hers, kissed him deeply and said, “You can have the other one, too, but I think we should leave him alone for that.”

Ted stood up immediately and helped her to her feet. They put their arms around each other’s waists and said, “Paul, we’re leaving you now.”

The last image I had of my wife was her standing there with one breast exposed, arm in arm with her lover as they walked away from me.

I usually rip off my clothes and head for “my place” outside the bedroom door as soon as I hear the door close. This time it took a few minutes for me to catch my breath. Sure, I had seen him undress her in the living room before, but it was always after I had asked them to do that for me. This time I hadn’t said or even hinted anything; I just watched. What I saw was my wife’s lover touching her as if she were his; as if her husband didn’t matter at all. Not only couldn’t I speak; I could hardly breathe.

By the time I got settled outside their door, the sounds of their lovemaking were already in full swing. I heard Ted moaning and groaning, so I assumed that she was going down on him. When I heard a loud kissing noise at the same time as he moaned, I knew she was kissing his cock. Clearly she was getting him VERY excited, as his noises grew in volume and in pitch. Then the kissing sounds were replaced with “that sound” – the special intake of breath which I’ve described before; the one Sally makes when Ted’s cock slides into her pussy. As he moaned and she gasped I remembered why I was sitting outside the door: because I’ve never been able to make my wife feel the way he does – the way he was doing right now.

They fucked intensely for a short time, until the unmistakable sound of Ted cumming filled my ears as he filled my wife. I don’t think I will ever get used to that sound; nothing sounds like an orgasm, and hearing the pleasure which my wife makes him feel tears my heart out, while simultaneously driving me so close to the edge that I have to stop masturbating to keep from cumming along with him. This time it almost seemed I could hear him pumping his semen into her… and as I learned later on, that is exactly what I was hearing.

Ted had barely finished cumming when I heard Sally’s vibrator start up. As she got more and more excited, Ted encouraged her with words which I could not make out, but which were clearly meant to make her feel beautiful, and sexy, and safe in his arms. Ted gets SO excited when he feels Sally getting off, and I could measure her excitement by the tone of his voice. When she finally came I heard a mixture of her gasps, his groans and the bed shaking, all of which went on for a VERY long time.

I was so caught up in the experience that it was only in the quiet which followed that I felt cuckolded again. I realized that HE had just seen and felt MY WIFE orgasm in his arms; that he had seen her face, felt her body, held her skin against his skin as she surrendered to the pleasure they were sharing. It is such a strange feeling to know that another man knows the most intimate secrets about my wife, and as Ted often reminds me, he even knows secrets that she has never revealed to me. Whatever they might have done on earlier dates because I asked them to, I knew now that what they did together in bed was because THEY wanted to. My wife wanted to fuck Ted. My wife wanted Ted to cum in her. My wife wanted to cum in Ted’s arms.

Not mine.

My reverie of self-flagellation was short-lived, as Ted’s moaning stopped me cold. It had been just a few minutes since he had cum, so I expected a long period of quiet talking. Yet there was no question that Sally was sucking his cock again, and that he was enjoying it… and her.

More surprising was when Sally made “that sound” again, and Ted’s moaning got louder – fast. I heard the bed moving rhythmically, and Ted’s groans matched the sound of the bed. They were fucking again! Now, Ted is over 60 years old, so the fact that he could get hard again so fast brought back my “he’s so much better than I am” theme with a vengeance. And when he cried out “Ohhh, I’m cumming!!” it cut through me like a knife. In less than an hour they fucked twice, he came in my wife twice, and she had a long, huge orgasm. While I masturbated myself raw, listening outside the door.

I expected them to be quiet now, and they were. And were, and were. That first hour had been intense (for everyone), but I didn’t hear much for the whole next hour. I thought they might be sleeping, but there was just enough movement and quiet conversation to tell me that they were relaxing together. It went on so long that I lost my erection and couldn’t get it back, so I slipped away from the door and went out to the living room.

In all the cuckolding stories, including mine, what you read is mostly about the high points; the special moments that knock your socks off. But cuckolding is mostly about emptiness and shame; days or weeks, or months, or even years with no sex; sitting outside the lovers’ bedroom, or sitting at home while your wife fucks another man; watching porn and imagining what it’s like to make a woman feel that way, imagining what it’s like to have a woman want you that way; jerking off and trying to pretend it’s as good as sex. Or reading the newspaper because your wife and her lover are spending quiet hours together without a single thought about you.

After a half an hour, I was bored. After an hour I was sulking. It took all the self-control I had not to knock on their door and ask them what was going on. But I reminded myself over and over that I was doing what a cuckold is supposed to do: sit and wait, while the lovers enjoy each other.

I read the whole USA Today, which is not saying much. I even read the sections I wasn’t interested in, just to have something to do. I debated about turning on the TV, but I thought it would disturb them (but didn’t I really WANT to disturb them? I didn’t do it, anyway). My mind wandered, so at first I thought I was hearing things when Ted called me. I raced back to the bedroom door and asked what he wanted; he said, “Come in; Sally needs her coffee reheated.”

I opened the door and tried to take in everything in front of me: Sally’s negligee on the floor at my feet, Ted’s clothes thrown over the chair, the bedspread and sheet (which I had painstakingly made up while Sally was getting dressed) looked like a wrestling match had taken place in them, and the lovers – Sally and Ted, my wife and THAT MAN – were cuddled together under the sheet.

Ted handed me the coffee cup and said, “Sally didn’t get to finish this before. Would you please warm it up for her?”

A simple request. One made thousands of times every day. But as I took the cup from my wife’s lover and left THEIR bedroom, I realized how excited I was to be asked to do something for them. Just having them talk to me, acknowledging that I existed in their private, sexual world even for something as mundane as reheating a cup of coffee, revived my spirit AND my penis.

I brought the cup back to them, knocking on the door even though it was partly open. It is clear to all of us that the bedroom is their place, their space, and I would never enter it without their permission. When the said to come in I walked around the bed and placed the cup on Sally’s night table. I was just turning to leave when Ted said, “Your wife is a WONDERFUL lover.”

I looked at him – at them – and saw them lying together in bed. Sally was on her back and Ted’s right arm was under her head. He was on his side, his body pressed tightly against hers under the sheet. His left hand was caressing her breasts, which were exposed above the sheet. Before I could think about responding, he continued.

“I was just saying that Sally gets better and better. She was wonderful when we started 11 years ago, but she just keeps getting better. She is more open, more giving, more adventurous each time. She is an AMAZING lover – do you know that?”

While he had ended with a question, it was obvious he was not looking for an answer. He turned to Sally and kissed her deeply, his hand never stopping its exploration of her tits. He rubbed them, traced their outlines against her chest, squeezed her nipples …

I stood there and masturbated. When he finished speaking I thought I should say something, but I had no words. Think about it: What DOES a husband say to his wife’s lover, when he tells you what a great lover she is while he feels her up in their bed? I was speechless, and Ted allowed a few minutes of uncomfortable silence as they kissed and I jerked off. Finally he said, “Okay, enough for you. Please leave us alone.”

I wanted to stay. I DESPERATELY wanted to stay. I had just spent an hour doing nothing, hearing nothing and seeing nothing, and I tried to hold on to this exciting scene as long as possible. But I knew better than to ignore Ted’s instructions, so without pausing in my masturbating I walked to the hallway and closed the door behind me. I figured they would be out for lunch soon, anyway, so I headed back to the living room to see if there was any part of the paper I hadn’t read yet.

Just before I got to the end of the hallway, I heard a noise. It couldn’t be, I thought; he had cum twice already. But I didn’t move (except my hand stroking my cock), and I listened. Sure enough, there it was again – there HE was again. Definitely a groan, a sex noise. By the time I got back to my place outside the door, it was clear that Sally was sucking Ted’s cock again. A little conversation, a little laughter, and then once again, “that sound.” Ted let out a moan as Sally sucked in her breath, and I knew he was fucking my wife. THREE times in two hours? Or had I been mistaken – had he fucked her earlier, but not cum?

My question was answered when Sally called out my name. “Yes?” I answered.

“Come here,” she said, over Ted’s groans.

I opened the door again, and saw Ted fucking my wife. Right in front of my eyes. Sally was on her back, legs spread wide, and Ted was on top of her, fucking her. Sally looked right at me – naked, her tits pointing up at her lover, her legs moving back and forth as she did pelvic thrusts on his cock – and SHE SMILED AT ME.

“This is after he’s cum twice,” she said.

I can’t remember when I’ve seen her look as happy as she was right then. Her face reflected pleasure, satisfaction and the sexiness which comes from knowing she just got a man hard three times in a morning. And what did she want to do with that happiness? She wanted to show ME.

There wasn’t a hint that she wanted me to join in; nothing could have been further from her mind. There wasn’t a hint that she wanted my cock, in spite of the fact that it was right in front of her, hard as a rock. She didn’t want to touch me, or kiss me; she certainly didn’t want to fuck me. She just wanted to show me how wonderful it was for her to be with Ted, and she felt safe knowing that I am a cuckold and would never interfere.

“He feels so good inside me,” she said, and once again, I was speechless. I knew that saying anything would ruin it, but even if I wanted to ruin it, words failed me. My wife asked me to see how well her lover fucks her, and how well she fucks her lover; no book of etiquette contains the proper response in that situation.

Ted couldn’t cum again, so after a few minutes he laid down on my wife and kissed her gently. She told me to go get lunch ready, that they would be out soon. So once again I closed the door on the lovers, and I went to prepare their meal.

Lunch was normal, if you can call a woman and her lover eating lunch while her husband jerks off on the couch nearby “normal.” Sally wore just her robe, so I could see most of her breasts. Of course, all she cared about was that TED could see most of her breasts. Ted wore his button-down shirt and nothing else, so whenever he walked around his cock showed itself below the hem. They talked about food, about jobs, about the normal things that friends talk about over lunch. I actually had to remind myself that they had just fucked, since there was nothing at all exciting about their conversation. At the end of lunch Sally got up and said, “Let’s go back to bed.” Ted did not need to ask twice.

The moment the door closed I heard her vibrator start, and in just a few minutes I heard her grunt – her orgasm grunt – and once again I felt the bed shake through the floor. As I masturbated to the sounds of my wife cumming, I realized that their entire lunch conversation had been foreplay for her, getting her ready to cum in her lover’s arms again.

Their conversation was now louder and more relaxed, and I knew they were reaching the end of their date. When I heard Ted’s belt buckle I went back to the living room. Taking my seat in the chair I was in when he arrived, I waited for him to emerge. Often, he will sit with me and talk about what happened; sometimes he just says “thank you” and leaves. Years ago, when he first started talking with me (which was right after they asked me to leave them alone on their dates), I was horribly embarrassed to be jerking off in front of a fully-dressed man. But after hearing him describe in exquisite detail how he fucked my wife, I lost all self-respect and just masturbated like a madman, trying not to cum as I heard what he did, what she did… what THEY did.

This time, Ted sat with me for a long time. How long, I have no idea. He went on and on about how wonderful it was, how she got him hard right away, how she got him hard AGAIN right away, how he told her he’d never be able to cum a second time, and how she took that as a personal challenge. He said she gave him the best blowjob he’d ever had, and when she had gotten him good and hard she got on top of him, guided his cock into her pussy and, in his words, “she fucked the cum out of me.”

I asked him, please, to tell me what it was like to cum in my wife. He got a faraway look in his eyes and said, “The first time, when I got really close, I pushed all the way inside her. I said to her, ‘I want to cum deep inside you,’ and I did. I got as far into her as I could and just held myself there while I pumped my semen into her. She felt warm all around my cock, and as I pumped I felt the semen squirting into her. It was like heaven.”

What would YOU have said? If I were a real man, I would have punched him out. If I were a wimp, I would have run away and cried. But I am a cuckold, so I just sat there with cum dribbling out of my penis, nodding in agreement as if our conversation was the most normal thing in the world. After a few minutes of watching me shake, watching me try to formulate something to say in response, Ted got up, told me to let Sally sleep for a half hour, and thanked me for bringing my wife for him to fuck. I think I croaked out, “You’re welcome,” but I’m not sure. I am sure my response did not matter.

When Ted left I sat on the floor and masturbated. I felt beaten up and ashamed of myself, but I could not stop jerking off. This is what it means to be a cuckold, I thought. I can get upset at what is happening in my life and at all I have lost, or I can accept it and do my best to get off on it. I choose to get off on it.

After 25 minutes I cleaned myself up (I still hadn’t cum; experience has shown me that we should be home and done with it before I cum, since if I don’t have that sexual tension the shame and pain become overwhelming). I quietly entered the bedroom – which was still THEIR bedroom – and saw my wife sleeping soundly, completely naked; just the way Ted had left her. I woke her gently; she smiled and asked how I was.

“I’m fine,” I said. “How about you?”

“I’m GREAT. Satisfied and well-fucked.”

As she adjusted her eyes to the light, she saw I was already dressed. I could sense relief in her expression, as it meant I was not going to want to jerk off with her or try to talk about sex. She kissed me gently and asked me to get her clothes while she took a quick shower. As she walked naked to the bathroom I tried to picture Ted’s sperm, which I knew were swimming up through her womb.

The drive home was peaceful; she said a few things about how great he was and about how wet she was for him, and I didn’t push for more details. When we got home our son was waiting for us, so after she pulled out something to defrost for dinner, I asked her if we could talk alone downstairs in my office.

When she came down and shut the office door, I said I wanted to ask her a favor. I haven’t masturbated in her presence even once in the nearly-three years since she stopped fucking me, other than when she was with Ted. But I asked her if I could jerk off while we talked. She seemed hesitant until I promised I wouldn’t cum while she was in the room; with that, she felt better and agreed.

As I masturbated I talked to her about how much it all hurt me: seeing Ted handle her tits, hearing the sex that I never get to have, seeing them lying together, seeing Ted fucking her. I asked her whose idea it was to invite me into the room when they were fucking, and she said it was hers. She said it felt so good – all of it – the sex, the cuckolding, and especially the fact that I had stopped trying to run things, that she wanted to show me how she felt. I told her she had a beautiful smile the whole time I watched them, and she said, “I know. My smile was real. I love fucking Ted and I love knowing you are my cuckold. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Also,” she added shyly, “I think I wanted to gloat.”

I wrestled with her answer for a minute, and then brought up a difficult subject.

“I don’t think we can go back, you know. I’ve seen too much, and we’ve said too much, to go back to a regular, you-and-I sex life. The pain really excites me, but after being cuckolded by you for so long I’ll never be able to be the kind of lover that Ted is.”

My wife – my loving, caring, sexy wife of 26 years – took my left hand in both her hands, looked at me with a mixture of love and sadness and said, “You never were.”

[tomskis]

OUTSTANDING!

[fg925]

Paul,

I love your stories and look forward to them. It's been awhile since you posted and I love reading about Ted and Sally and wish I could take Ted's place. Your wife sounds wonderful. Thanks again for a wonderful post.

[tcsub]

This is another outstanding chapter and i don't know where to begin. i read this as, more or less, a tutorial on how a cuckold should act. Point one is to not top from the bottom. i am struggling with that. Paul is actually showing a way out of this trap-through his suffering and humiliation. Point two is that sex is not about the cuckold having sex. It is about a man and a woman having sex. It seems that most cuckolds talk about their wife having sex but they are really thinking about their own sex. Paul shows us all a way out of this dilemma. No sex for the cuckold. Ever. Point three is the need for the cuckold to be diminished as a man. Point four is the need for the cuckold to serve the wife. Paul is lucky to have an amazing wife who has gotten to the point of expecting that service. Her payment to him for that will be her keeping him in chastity and sleeping with the real man. She deserves nothing but respect. This is topping from the top. All of Paul's writings highlight a difficult reality for cuckolds. You need to suffer some. You need to be diminished. It is no longer about you. Accept it and support those who are above you in the pecking order. Your pain will be your wife's pleasure.

In any event, those are my thoughts. i know that many on this site will not agree, but, i feel that Paul has captured the psychological component of a real cuckold. i fail at getting to this point every day but will try harder. Thanks for being a role model, Paul, and for this post.

[jazz]

Another masterpiece! Thanks, Paul. I've read everything I can find that you've written, and it just keeps getting better and better.