Four Thirty

[introverted373]

Four Thirty
by Topher Lawrence

Kelsey and I were college sweethearts. We got married after she graduated, 25 years ago. We had 3 kids along the way and have always had a happy domestic life. Like so many long-standing couples, the passion began to wane as we settled into life as parents. Our kids have kept us pretty busy with their active schedules.

We’ve been living in Cleveland for the last 20 years. All 3 kids were born and raised here. We were not. Not having any family nearby meant that planning a date night required the expense and logistical challenge of finding a sitter. We meant to plan more time for ourselves, but we weren’t as consistent about it as we would have liked. However at this phase of our lives the kids are old enough to be at home by themselves. They’ve become much more self-sufficient. Planning a date night has become so much easier, less stressful, and more frequent as a result.

The passion in our marriage has thus been rekindling.

Tonight is date night. At about 4:30 this afternoon, I made a reservation at our favorite restaurant–a table for two at seven. I showered a little bit ago and came up to the bedroom to get dressed and wait for Kelsey to finish her shower. We’ve been anticipating this night for a few weeks now. As I hear the bedroom door open, my heart skips a beat.

Kelsey comes into the room with her pink bathrobe. She knows I love watching her undress. The moment she came into the room my eyes were fixed on her. She met mine and gave me a coy smirk, she knew what was on my mind and was not going to satisfy me without teasing me first.

“Can’t a girl get a little privacy?” she said, teasingly, as she removed the bathrobe and hung it on the hook.

“You know how much I love your tits.”

Her tits are perfect. She’s a curvy woman and her hourglass figure when viewed from behind is magnificent–but when she faces me, her voluptuous breasts command my attention. They are perfectly proportioned to the rest of her body. Her tits, mixed with her smile and the anticipation of this long-awaited night make my insides feel tingly. I love how she can still do this to me after 29 years of being together.

I approach to give her a kiss on her teeth-freshly-brushed, minty-tasting mouth. I’m so excited, I decided to slip her a little tongue.

“Down boy!” she exclaims as she flinches back from my mouth. “You’re like a fuckin’ puppy. Save some for afterward.”

“I guess I couldn’t help myself.”

Still naked, she pushes me on my shoulder forcing me to take a seated position on the bed as she walks over to the closet. She makes two dress selections from the closet and holds them both in front of me.

“What do you think, the red or the black?”

I don’t know why she likes this ritual of asking my opinion on clothes. I try a little reverse psychology.

“I think, the red.” I proffer.

“Hmmmm…I dunno, I think the black will go better with what I plan to wear underneath.

Yes! The red suggestion was a feint. I fucking love that black dress. It’s low cut, accentuates her cleavage–not too much–just enough. When standing it comes down her thighs, slightly above her knees. Wearing it, she looks like sex-on-a-stick.

She hangs the red dress back up in the closet, and puts the black one on the bed, next to me, then heads over to her underwear drawer.

“I’m thinking…that lacy black thong from the other night?” I suggest.

“That’s still in the laundry. Someone didn’t say on top of it this week,” she teases me again.

“How about the crotchless panties, then? Easy access…” I suggest, longingly.

“I think I’m ovulating. I’ll end up leaving a wet spot on my dress if I take that out tonight.”

“And what would be wrong with that?”

“You’re a pervert.”

“A guy can dream, can’t he?”

“Oh, all your dreams are gonna come true tonight, my love.” she promises.

She opens her jewelry box and selects a silver chain upon which dangles a large locket containing a photo of our kids when they were much younger. Also attached to the chain, next to the locket, is a tiny key–a special, secret symbol just between us, reminding her of the deep love she and I share–where we started so many years ago and where we are today, and our hopes for tomorrow.

Facing the mirror, she asks me to operate the tiny clasp. I stand behind her naked body and take in the smell of her hair. I attach the clasp and run my hands all down her torso until I touch her buttocks with both hands before gently pulling away and returning to sit on the bed. I admire in the mirror the contrast between her skin tone and the metal as the locket and key hang in the space between her breasts.

She nonchalantly takes out an as-yet-unopened package from her favorite internet lingerie merchant. She opens it and takes out a pair of black thigh-high silk stockings, black garters attached to a lacy black garter belt. Wearing nothing but the silver chain and a coquettish grin, she lays these on the bed next to me without comment. She knows that I’m close to a hands-free jizz in my shorts just watching her handle those items. She knows I love shit like that–it drives me fucking crazy.

She turns a 180 toward her dresser and, knees pressed tightly together, bends over at the waist showing off her magnificent ass and I get the merest glimpse of her freshly showered pussy. I immediately picture myself grabbing her hips and pulling her back to my front. In my impromptu fantasy, she issues a loud vocalization with each wanton thrust, my cock desperately vying for the deepest position to deposit my seed inside of her. She knows me better than anyone, and she knows this is exactly what I’m thinking. She knows I can’t do this right now because she doesn’t want her snatch full of spunk during her dinner date. She knows I know this. She’s just playing me like a violin.

Kelsey stands back up erect, displaying a pair of panties and a matching bra. The ass of the knickers are a diaphanous, see-through lace mesh. The front is mostly see-through. The crotch is entirely practical, designed to provide some much-needed absorption on an evening like this. These were obviously designed by a woman and not some randy-ass dude whose brain is soaked with T.

She bends at the waist, lifting one leg into the panties, then the other. She slowly pulls them up in front of me, putting on a show. I watch as the fabric gradually obscures her pretty, brunette, natural bush.

“I’ll see you later, much later.” I think to myself wistfully imagining my nose buried between her thighs.

She turns around to show me what her ass looks like in the panties. The material is see-through in all the right places. It highlights her female form perfectly. It's magnificent.

I present the brassiere and she steps toward me, and turns around, looking over her left shoulder at me, inviting me to place the cups over her breasts. She holds out both arms as I pass the straps over them. I gently pass my fingers over her erect nipples before fitting her into the cups, pulling the bottom tight, and fastening the clasp between her shoulder blades.

“Hon, could you grab me the Chanel No. 5 from the basket in the linen closet?” she requests.

“Sure thing.”

She bought this bottle of perfume on a second honeymoon trip to Paris a few years ago. She likes to reserve it for special occasions. I bring it back to her and she sprays a barely noticeable amount on the inside of her left wrist. She rubs the wrist underneath both ears, over the front panel of her panties, and finally both wrists together. She holds one up for me to sample.

“What do you think? Just a little hint. Do you think it’s too much?”

“No, I’d say it’s perfect. I can’t clearly detect it till I’m really close–which is perfect” I assure her.

Something in the perfume activates my brain chemistry, making me want her even more, right now. The feeling is wonderful, I did not think I could want her more than I did just a moment ago, but she knows what buttons to push and when.

She puts the garter belt over her hourglass hips until it settles in place at her waist. The clasps dangle down. I’m already picturing her getting undressed as she gets dressed.

She sits on the end of the bed, grabbing one of the black stockings. She stretches out her left leg and slips the thigh-high on, and repeats with her right leg.

“Will you do the honors?” she invites me as she rises from the bed’s edge.

“Gladly indeed, milady” I respond with a hammed-up English accent.

“Such a dork.” she exasperatedly whispers as she rolls her eyes.

I kneel down on the floor and fasten the clasps from the garter belt to the top of each thigh-high, making sure I pass my nose over the front of her panties to inhale her one last time.

She fetches the dress and steps into it, slipping it over her shoulders.

“Zipper?”

I slowly slide the zipper up as I say goodbye to the small of her bare back and get a last glimpse of her alluring lingerie, eagerly awaiting what the evening holds. Finally I fasten the clasp at the top of the dress.

I stare at the silk stretched between her toes as the black stockings disappear into her heels.

She gathers her hair into a casual up-do. Locks of hair on the back form an interwoven pattern, accentuating subtly different colors as the angle of the light changes over them. She left a small wisp of hair dangling at her temple. It’s perfect–and sexy as fuck.

She puts on a pair of simple silver hoop earrings, and completes the ensemble with a small, black strapless handbag, where she stashes her phone, credit cards and some basic necessities.

“I’ll go get the car” I say, jumping up from the bed.

“OK, be down in a sec”.

I back the car partially out of our driveway and wait for her by the front door. She loves to make me wait. It’s 6:45, the reservation is at 7. I thought she was ready–what the hell is she doing? I don’t know. I remind myself to chill the fuck out. This night is going to be perfect and I don’t really care if we’re 2 minutes late to the reservation.

The front door opens and she comes out looking radiant in the reflected sunlight. She steps down the stoop in a gingerly feminine way, careful not to scuff her heels on the stone. A slight breeze catches the coiled lock of hair hanging near her temple and makes it dance. I’m reminded of the first time I noticed her in college and how she captured my heart then, and how she maintains a firm grip on it now. I think of how she and I formed a family and learned a new kind of love as parents, together. It occurs to me that what I have in her is more than what I dared to hope for, and I feel genuine joy in that knowledge.

She gets in the car and we head to the restaurant.

“Mmmmm…I love that hint of Chanel, I never get tired of it,” I comment as we drive away.

“It’s not too much, is it? I didn’t want it to be overpowering,” she frets.

“Nah don’t worry about it, Kels, it’s perfect. It adds another dimension to you. It’s fucking alluring is what it is.”

“Well, that is what I’m going for,” she says. “Do you remember the name of that white wine we got–it was like one of the cheaper ones on the menu but it was so good–I’m really looking forward to having some again tonight.”

“I think it was…’Solatia’...I’m not sure, I’ll bet you could find it by looking at the list and choosing one of the cheaper ones” I suggest. “So, what are you gonna order? You gonna try the escargot?”, I tease, knowing it’s so far been a non-starter for her.

“Maybe?” she coyly proffers, hinting a bit of extra unpredictability in her attitude tonight.

She smiles at me again with that coquettish grin. As we near the restaurant, I offer to drop her off near the door.

“Thanks, hon, that’d be great. I don’t want to walk too far in these heels,” she says.

As we pull up to the curb, she reaches across the console of the car with her left hand, toward my crotch. Placing her thumb against her wedding band, she holds it firmly in place. Through my pants she deliberately makes dull tapping sounds against the hard metal of my cock cage. I feel like my brainstem is going to melt.

“You sure you’re gonna be OK tonight?” she says as she continues playfully tapping, nary a hint of worry in her voice. She knows it’s what I want. “So, after dinner, Enzo and I are going to get an Uber and head straight for the airport Sheraton. He’s only in town tonight and has an early flight in the morning. Oh–and please tell me you got that box of condoms I asked you to…and…if you’re not OK with this, just say the word, and I’ll..”

“Yeah, yeah. OK uh, yeah, the Walgreens bag in the back.”, I interrupt, my heart pounding with angst.

“Chris, I need to hear you say the words…’I am OK with this’,” she insists.

“Kelsey, yes, I am OK with this. You are making my dreams come true. I love you. Have fun tonight. I am OK with this. I am so much more than ‘OK’ with this,” I assure her.

“Thanks, hon, you’re the best. I love you too. I am so lucky to have you,” she says, pecking me on the cheek as she puts eight or ten condoms into her tiny purse. “I want to stay with him as long as I can–like we talked about–so maybe you could pick me up at the airport Sheraton about 4:30 this morning? He’ll probably be going through TSA check in by then.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh.” I say, barely able to swallow.

“Just text me when you’re close, I’ll meet you outside.” she says as she gives me another peck on the cheek. She reaches between my legs one last time with her right hand. I’m heavily spotting the front of my pants. I guess I won’t be getting out of the car.

“Fuck, this is really making you leak isn’t it!” snickering at my predicament. “Holy shit, the mind of a cuck….anyway….NO JERKING OFF TONIGHT! The cage will see to that!” she demands firmly, but lovingly as she dangles in front of me the tiny key to my cage on her necklace. She knows this will make me strain harder against the metal but she does it anyway.

“Yeah, I’ll….I’ll…see you at 4:30” I stammer.

“Oh, there he is, there’s Enzo. You two finally get to meet! How cute. Wave to him.” she commands.

I wave, and Enzo notices Kelsey in our car, and heads over toward us. Enzo comes to open the passenger door.

“He’s here, I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you in the morning, OK?”

“Ciao!” Enzo exclaims in his Italian accent as soon as the door opens. He is immaculately dressed. What I’m fixed on are his shoes–perfectly polished Italian leather.

“Kelsey, che stupenda!!” Enzo compliments her as he takes her right hand and helps her out of the car. Their brief greeting kiss hints at the passion they’ve already shared for each other as she rises from the passenger seat.

Kelsey turns back toward the car. “Enzo, this is my husband, Chris. Chris, Enzo,” as she introduces us.

“Buona sera”, he greets me in his native tongue. “Pleased to finally make your acquaintance, Chris.”

“Pleased to finally…meet you.. Enzo...molto piacere!” I return, managing to haltingly remember the smattering of Italian I learned years ago.

Enzo turns to my wife, “Shall we?” he offers as he places his arm around her waist.

“Andiam’!” she returns, busting out some Italian of her own.

They approach the restaurant entrance where the maitre d’ is waiting for them to open the door and seat them at the table I reserved earlier.

I head back home, all my synapses firing in a disarray. My stomach is churning and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, or kicked in the nuts or worse. It’s excruciating and intoxicating at the same time. Underpinning it all is the strong attachment and affection I have for Kelsey and she for me.

I cannot wait to hear all the details about their evening together. I coach myself, “Take slow, deep breaths to help you make it through the night.”

“Wait for 4:30.”

[Fred_Garvin]

The descriptions and build-up were fantastic!

I absolutely love that twist about 3/4 of the way through.

Please write more...

[WACouple]

Yes, love where this is going!

[introverted373]

Thanks. I’ll have to think of another chapter.

[OOAA]

FANTASTIC story!!!!!!!!!!! Love the writing and the increasing sensuality!!!

Pure

Please, go on soon

[OOAA]

Thanks. I’ll have to think of another chapter.

Yes, pretty please

[weshardin58]

great start!! would love reading more

[Chrislydi]

Wonderful build up, the scene being set with such a knowing attention to all those finer points that the build up of anticipation has been captured perfectly. If you could write a further chapter you will have an eternally grateful and loyal readership guaranteed.

Chris

[introverted373]

Four Thirty – Part 2
By Topher Lawrence

As I dropped Kelsey off at the restaurant, my head was swimming with angst and joy. Joy, because she was making my dreams come true, again. (This wasn’t her first time cuckolding me.) Angst, because of all the reasons a cuckold feels angst–”she must like him better than me” (in some ways, that’s probably true)--”she won’t come home to me”, or, “she will just want to run away with him” (not true, but hurts so good to imagine)--”she wants to have his babies” (not true, at least I assume it’s not true, oh fuck! Maybe that one needs to be discussed. At least she took condoms tonight, for sure.)

My plan was to do some Uber driving to make a little extra cash (I’ve got a fucking expensive dinner to pay for) and to just have something to do. First, I cannot just go home, the kids are there, and they think, “Mom and Dad are on a date.” They have literally no idea who their mother is with or what she’ll be doing with him tonight.

Our kids don’t need or want to know about our sex lives, even when we were vanilla it was just none of their fucking business. We both want to keep it that way for as long as possible. We’ll adjust if we have to as the situation evolves in our relationship.

We told the kids to be in bed by midnight, and that we were going to dinner, a movie, and maybe “something else” after that. I know they’ll just go to bed–at least they always have so far. They have no suspicions or reasons not to. It’ll just be another boring night for them.

As for me, I can’t just go somewhere private and jerk off. Kelsey caged me yesterday. And even if I weren't caged, how would “rubbing one out” be any good? Emphasis on the rub one because, after all, how many times can I jerk off in a day? When horniness like this takes over your mind, spending a load is not the right strategy. Best to revel in it momentarily, and then let it slow-burn, as slowly as you can manage.

Doing a little ride share driving will give me a mission. Something to do. Something to keep my mind off Kelsey and how she cuckolds me in that fuckin’ dress and that fuckin’ lingerie and how some other man is going to partake of Kelsey—all of her.

It’s surprising how you can burn hours ride-share driving, even while your wife is fucking another dude.

Mission accomplished–it’s time to go offline in the driver app and make my way toward the airport hotel. I send her a text to let her know I’m on my way, and we can track each other’s phone’s location at any time, so she can come right out to meet and not really have to wait outside for me at all.

As soon as I pull up to the hotel entrance I see her there waiting for me. Her hair is a complete mess, and she’s wearing the same dress and shoes, but she’s not wearing the stockings any longer. In one hand she has the little strapless purse, and in the other, one of those cheap, white plastic hotel laundry bags. I can only assume she has the rest of her ensemble inside in the laundry bag.

She wastes no time getting into the car and tells me to drive away as quickly as possible. She doesn’t want to get spotted by anyone she might know in this condition, location, and time of day.

“So, what the hell? You’re not wearing those beautiful silk stockings, anymore, huh?” I probe.

“Well, I did for most of the night…” she responds.

“Most of the night? I’m listening,” I return.

“Yeah, Enzo loved them, and I have to say, so do I,” she starts.

“So do I!” I interject.

“Yeah, I know, cuck-boy. Duh! Your dick would get hard if I picked up a pencil off the floor in a nun’s habit,” she retorts, indignant at the interruption. “Ya know, I think we can just agree to assume that you want to fuck me at every opportunity, OK?” she says, completely correctly. “Anyway, I wore them for most of the night.”

“Well, what occasioned their removal?” I demand, in the nerdiest way I can think to put it.

“He eventually wanted me fully naked like he was naked. He wanted skin-to-skin contact. So we took turns wrapping our legs around each other when we cuddled between the last few sessions,” she reported.

“Cuddled? What the fuck? Are you developing feelings for Enzo?” I demand vehemently.

“Bitch, yes I have ‘feelings’ for Enzo. If I’m gonna let him stick his face, fingers and cock in my twat I had better at least enjoy his company. You cucks think you can prescribe the whole thing. It doesn’t work that way. You wanted this, and you’re getting it. You said I’m ‘making your dreams come true’, right?” she points out.

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

“OK well then put aside your preconceived notions about how this is all going to go down, dial back the fantasy meter to ‘four’, and just trust me, for fuck’s sake! Jesus Christ!” she vents in frustration.

“OK ok ok! You’re right, you’re right. I do trust you. I didn’t mean to suggest that I didn’t trust you. It’s just hard for me to see this from your point of view. I’d been thinking about it for years before I ever brought it up to you, and I have all these ideas swimming in my head, and when you finally merge your ideas to forge fantasy into reality, sometimes I just forget and…and…I don’t want to lose you. You’re my whole world. And having you actually do this shit, it just makes me so grateful, so humble, and so happy, and so terrified all at once and I just want you to know that. I’m sorry…I do trust you, I don’t want you to think otherwise,” I do my best to apologize.

“So…cuddling…you said?” I prompt her to resume.

“Yes cuddling. Like humans do. Including, and especially, humans that have just finished fucking. Enzo and I had been fucking. Please remember that, take it for what it is. He is my fuck-buddy. I like Enzo. I even love him, but in a different way. I can love him, and realize that it’s just for tonight, or this weekend, or this year, or whatever. You, however, are my husband. You and I have decided to commit to each other and our love has grown and is stronger than it ever was before I started having sex with other men. It’s the forever-kind of love. There is not one moment tonight where I forgot that. I cannot say that you, Chris, were on my mind constantly, but even when Enzo’s cock was in me, my heart was and remains yours and yours alone, OK?” she reassures me. “So, yeah, about an hour or two ago he had me take off the garter belt and stockings. I wore them most of the evening because it kept fueling his lust for me, just like I had hoped…”

“What about the underwear?” I inquire.

“Oh, those came off like, immediately, even before the dress.” she replied.

“Wait, how the fuck did that happen, if you had the garter and stockings on over the underwear until almost the end?” I ask, a bit bemused.

“Enzo tore them apart.” she responded, matter-of-factly. “He lifted my skirt, buried his face in my front. After breathing my fragrance deeply, he pulled the top middle of my panties to his mouth, held them with his teeth, and ripped each side open. He arose, unzipped my dress, loosed it over my shoulders and let it fall in a heap around my ankles. I stood there in nothing but my garter, stockings and bra, and my wedding ring,” she winked at me. “It was so alpha, it made me so fucking wet. I wanted him badly after he did that.”

“Goddammit! Those panties we fucking hot, I wanted you to wear them with me!” I respond, a little butt-hurt because they were probably not cheap, either.

“Yeah, well, we can talk about that in a bit, she said,” somewhat more coyly than I expected.

“Ok so you’re commando at the moment. Like right now. Here. In the car. Shit. …I just want to process that…uhh…so…what else happened…I need the deets. If you’re gonna cage me you gotta give me full information, that’s the part I need,” I insist.

“Basic rundown, stats-wise then? I know that’ll poke your cuck-nerve,” she teases. “So, in terms of orgasms, I lost count–at least a dozen. In terms of fuck-sessions…let’s see, the head of bed on the left, in missionary, at the end of the bed in missionary, then switched to doggie, after which he had a hard time holding off, that was the end of condom #1. After that we snuggled, and he went down on me and I came hard for the first time. We cuddled for a bit, and we both fell asleep for a bit. We left all the lights on the whole time and unplugged the clocks, so I don’t really have a bearing as to the time. I guess we got to the hotel about 10pm. We had a nice time at the restaurant, he’s so funny,“ she digresses. We fucked all over both beds, in the bathroom. In the shower before his flight. Basically if there was a horizontal surface above the floor, we’d fuck on it. Kinda made a game of it, actually.”

“After he’d cum, we’d snuggle and doze a bit or he’d service me orally. Once after dozing, I woke up randy. He was completely naked on the bed. No sheet covering him. His uncut cock lay flaccid and wet against his leg. I moved into position to put my mouth on him, and sucked him until he started to stiffen up. He eventually awoke. He must have been having a sex dream because he was ready to go immediately. I did a 180 and presented my pussy to his face and resumed sucking his cock à la 69. Evidently I had a pretty big pussy gape by that time because he licked my inside pretty thoroughly. Before long, he started saying, ‘Basta, basta! Go to the end of the bed. Feet on the floor. Face down, ass up.’”

He put on another condom, then he fucked me really hard for a long time. I don’t know how long. But the vigor and intensity was really turning me on. I came with him fucking me from behind once, then twice, he kept going and I just sort of got into this sex-drunk state where I felt like I was outside my body watching the action from above. That made me come again and I squirted that time. I let loose and loud moaning sounds. I'm sure the neighbors heard me. That area of the bed was soaked after we finished in that spot. He was really turned on, but that fucker’s got stamina–he still hadn’t cum and he wanted to go again. We switched to the other bed in the room. I moaned with each thrust, greedy for him.”

“You squirted. Holy fuck. Uhhh…how many times did he come?” I ask, impatiently jumping ahead.

“Well, I ran out of condoms,” she returned.

“No fucking way! You took, like, eight or ten condoms, what is he, a cum-vending-machine? Who can ejaculate that many times?” I return, jealous, while hoping it was true at the same time.

“No, he didn’t cum that many times. Probably four times. Yeah, definitely four times,” she responded.

“Well that’s still pretty fucking good,” I think, still jealous.

“Yeah, you’ve never come four times in one night!” she unapologetically points out. That stings my cuck angst. I love it and hate it at the same time. I love her unequivocally for knowing how to push this button.

“Holy fucking shit. Wait till housekeeping shows up and sees eight or ten condoms in the trash. They’ll think there was an orgy there. I hope you tipped them good.” I chortle.

“You mean, seven or nine condoms.” she adds.

“Uhh wait, you said that….what did you say?” I react.

“Yes, well I said we used them all. You assumed I threw them all away. Not so. I asked Enzo to donate his prime load to you. After he came the first time, I removed his condom. Very carefully—I didn’t want to spill a drop. I tied it off. Then I worshiped him. Every bit of that cherry load went into my mouth, or into this.”

She reaches into her bra and produces the used prophylactic, knotted on the open end. Inside it was a grayish white volume of about 3 Tablespoons of man jizz.

“Well what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” I object.

“He let me ‘harvest’ it, only on the condition that it not be wasted. It either needs to go in me, or it needs to go in you. Either way, he expects the cuckold to revere it and cherish it.” she dutifully instructs.

“That’s real spunk with active swimmers. It ain’t going in my pussy, I ain’t eatin’ it, and you ain’t puttin’ in my ass. So I’m gonna figure out how to get it inside of you.” she asserts.

Apparently I’m out of options.

“He wants proof it wasn’t wasted, like video proof.” she adds.

“Well goddammit I don’t wanna eat that shit,” I protest. “Or, wait, do I? Maybe?” I think, privately.

“It’s either that or I fuck it into your ass with my strap-on. He’s been tested and cum makes a respectable lube,” she reasons.

”Ok fine. I love it when you peg me and involving your bull like that…it works for my cuck brain…that’s a fucking master stroke. You oughta teach a graduate level how-to-mind-fuck-a-cuck seminar or something. This makes me so want to fuck you in our bed,” I interject.

“Easy there, cowboy, you’re in a cage,” she unhelpfully points out.

“And?” I pine, dejectedly.

“And…I didn’t say I was letting you out,” she replies.

Fuck, that one stings, I’ve been straining and raging against this fucking metal for so many hours, and I totally thought I was going to score afterwards. I really went all out, arranging and paying for this dinner. I set my own plans aside so they could be together because Enzo called her at the fucking last minute. She has a policy of dropping everything nonessential when Enzo needs a booty call.

I even drove drunk-ass dipshits (who never tip) all over the city to dredge up the coin to pay for it. I really thought I was going to score. Not that I’d last all that long, but my cock in Kelsey’s well-used pussy has been at the forefront of my mind all night long.

I desperately try to distract her from denying me by changing the subject.

“So, eight or ten condoms used, one of which was ‘harvested’, but only four times he came? What about the other condoms?” I volley as a distraction.

“Oh, we used them all. He just didn’t come every time we fucked. We’d fuck for a while, then chat and have a drink. We snuggled a few times. Did I say we were mostly naked the whole time? Well, he was entirely naked. I had my garters and stockings. And that was it. Oh, and my wedding ring…” she again teases, waving this token of our vows in front of me.

“Shiiiiiit,” I say, wishing I could be a fly on the wall for those hours in the hotel room watching these two people fuck.

“So, between rounds, he’d soften up a bit, the condom would come loose and we’d toss it. Do something else for a bit, and then one of us would want to fuck again and he’d get immediately hard, and need another condom. I put half of them on his cock with my mouth.” she confesses.

“Well, Jesus, how’d you fit his big member in your mouth and get the condom over him?” I query.

“Who said he had such a ‘big member’? You and your cuck checklist again. You haven’t seen his cock yet. He’s actually the same size as you. Actually you are a bit bigger girth-wise. He has an arguably smaller cock, but fucks very well. He knows how to use it. Cucks be all about ‘big cock’. Yeah, big cock is great. I love big cock. It’s a genre, I’ll own it. But it’s just one consideration among many, and not even an important one. Anyway, off my soapbox. So yeah, he could penetrate my lips and get far enough in to get the rubber over his shaft. It was so much fun. It was actually kind of hard because we’d both get to laughing. Chris, I wish you could have seen that. It was his idea. We made a game out of it. Maybe I’ll try it on you sometime?” says she.

“Goddammit! I got a fucking vasectomy and you want me to suit up? What. The. Actual. Fuck!” I protest, a bit butt-hurt again.

“It was Enzo’s idea. He suggested that maybe I have you start wearing a condom. Since you’re a larval-stage cuckold, it’s an opportunity for us.”

“An opportunity?” I protest.

“Yes, for all of us. It’s time you begin to accept the reality of your position in the hierarchy. It’s time for you to stretch further toward the role you were born to fulfill. I am also going to promote Enzo to be my first bareback bull.”

“Jesus! Kelsey, you’re not on birth control! I am willing to go very far down this rabbit hole, but I draw the line at making a baby. For so many reasons. Also this crazy-ass country is doing everything they can to walk back your freedom to choose an abortion, not that we’d enter into that lightly, but…Jesus! Kelsey!” I object, gobsmacked.

“Yes sweetheart, I agree Completely. I’m not looking to get pregnant. Everyone in the family knows you’ve been snipped and I wouldn’t want to explain a pregnancy to them. I don’t want another baby, either. I don’t envision abortion as a casual fallback. But I do want Enzo to start cumming inside me freely. I’ve decided that for sure. I want to be fluid-bonded with him. I have an appointment with my OB-GYN and I think I’m leaning toward an IUD. That will free me to choose to let other bulls have bareback privileges as I see fit. I need you to trust me on this, Chris. It’s my vagina and I like it when men cum in me. I want to experience this with many other men. You are definitely going to benefit from this, too. I want to recruit more bulls. And to that end I want you to use a condom with me on the occasions when I uncage you until future notice. My bulls tend to prefer it that way as a tactic to dominate you. I want to enable you to inhabit this domination and receive it gratefully. Sweetheart, think of it as your opportunity to evolve as a cuck. It’s also what I want to start happening.”

She is so wise. She and Enzo are right, I am a cuckold. I revel in it. I was ashamed for so many years, wanting the things I do. The shame is deeply ingrained. I have to remind myself that when I stopped fighting and set aside all the religious bullshit that made me miserable and just accepted who I was, I finally found the peace and joy I’ve been longing for. I finally opened up to Kelsey, it required an adjustment, to be sure. Not long afterward, she was willing to explore it with me. She shared my joy, first by fantasizing with me, and growing to desire something in it for herself. This led us to find her first bull.

She enables me to be who I want to be, and to feel the joy only cuckolds can feel. I was born to be cuckolded and I would not want it another way.

People who aren’t cuckolds don’t understand–they always think that the woman is getting the better end of the deal, getting to fuck freely, the object of many men’s desire. They see her as the one reaching her full potential. That’s true, but it’s only the easiest part to understand from the outside looking in. Being cuckolded by the woman you love and a bull who can properly inhabit the role is the highest form of pleasure I’ve found. Loving and serving my vixen unconditionally brings me the purpose and joy I always wanted. Knowing that she has complete freedom inspires me to focus on her needs. In return she meets mine completely, if unpredictably. She anticipates needs I didn’t know I had. I think that even she has no idea that I’m getting the better end of this deal. Could this be the next need she is going to meet for me–by forcing me to grow as a cuckold?

[introverted373]

I posted a chapter 2 and it got approved. But it had some typos, so I edited it, but it is now again under review. Check back soon.

[armyguyot1]

After approving it for the third time I thought it was a double. Once it's approved leave it alone. A very long piece and I have to read it over and over before I realize I have already approved it. I just don't have that kind of time.

[introverted373]

Will I need to resubmit chapter 2?

[jrobb]

Great start!!! Can't wait to hear her tell him what happened.

JR

[armyguyot1]

Now leave it alone. I am not going to approve it again.

[OOAA]

Amazing chapter!!!!! Really hot talking!!! Thanks

Please, go on soon

[Chrislydi]

I echo OOAA's sentiments, this is extremely hot especially the conversations on growing him as a cuckold.

Absolutely love it so please continue soon,

Chris

[introverted373]

Thanks, Chrislydi & OOAA for your encouragement. More to come soon, I hope!