A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 09

I stayed at the bottom of the bed, hidden from her view by his body, for fear she would say it was time for me to leave. But I don't think they would have noticed if I had been banging cymbals together, given the intensity of their lovemaking. I watched, masturbating like a madman, as Ted's speed increased and as he pushed her legs higher and his cock deeper. I heard my wife urging him on, telling him she wanted to feel him cum in her, and her words cut to my soul as they inflamed my cock. He was getting close. She was driving him over the edge. She was fucking him.

Then he came, and again words fail to describe what I witnessed. He cried out with pleasure over and over, and the sound of him -- another man -- cumming like that made me insane with jealousy. His body convulsed -- not randomly, but with a singular purpose, as I watched every muscle in his ass, his back and his legs contract to squirt his cum into his lover's womb. Again and again his body worked to reward my wife's fucking with his sperm; it was like a biology class, a porn movie and a thousand people laughing at me, all at the same time. There is nothing more intimate than cumming, and nothing more animal than a male inseminating a female. Ted cumming and inseminating my wife.

He collapsed on her when he was done, and I saw his softening penis slip out of her. I don't know why I expected a moment's respite, but I did not get it -- they were no longer interested in resting. He immediately began kissing her: starting with her mouth, he kissed down her neck, her breasts, her shoulders, her arms, her belly. She reached for her vibrator and placed it on her clit as he kissed and licked and sucked her everywhere. As his mouth approached her ear he began whispering, and I knew he was making love to my wife with his words as well as his body. Sally smiled, looked at me, and with a flip of her hand waved me away.

I knew better than to argue and I was grateful they let me stay so long, so I (slowly) made my way toward the door. Halfway across the bedroom, I heard that same intake of breath from her that had become the day's refrain, and I stopped to look. Ted had her right nipple in his mouth, and from the up-and-down movement of her breast I could see that he was sucking on her like a baby nursing. Like our babies nursed from that same breast when they were young. I stood, transfixed, at this sexy violation of our private lives, as my wife fed her nipple to her lover and shuddered from his attention.

Sally gasped, opened her eyes for a second and saw me standing there, masturbating. With a look of annoyance which left no room for doubt, she pointed to the other room and mouthed the word, "Now!" I turned and walked back to "my" chair.

Still reeling from the past 10 minutes, I sat and watched their feet once again. His feet sliding up and down her legs, her feet stretching and tightening in sync with her moaning, and finally "her dance" as she came -- loudly -- in his arms. I sat as quietly as I could through her aftershocks, hearing her grunts and seeing her feet jump each time, my eyes torn between staring at the little I could see of them and focusing on the empty bra laid out over the chair. I was right at the edge of cumming, but I contented myself with getting to the edge over and over again.

Soon, they both began to move. Sally walked over to her clothes on the chair without so much as a glance my way, and began to dress. Ted was obviously doing the same out of my sight, as I heard the sounds of zipping and belt buckle. They spoke casually, comfortably; like two lovers who knew each other (in every sense) well enough to relax together.

When they were dressed, Ted took my wife in his arms and kissed her deeply. The fierceness of their earlier kisses was gone, replaced by satisfaction and affection. They had made each other feel good, and now they were saying "thank you." I knew what was expected of me: I sat silently in the corner, masturbating in the semi-darkness.

Ted picked up his briefcase and walked by me on the way to the door. "Take care," he said, as if we had just shared a beer, not my wife.

"Thank you for making my wife feel so good," I whispered, too horny and too submissive to even slow down my masturbating.

"Oh, it was my pleasure. My PLEASURE. Bye." And he was out the door.

Sally slowly made her way over to me. "Did you have a good time?" she asked, sitting down on the couch facing me.

"Thank you SO much for letting me see you!" I blurted out. "It was incredible. I had forgotten. I had forgotten EVERYTHING."

"I know. That's why I thought we should take advantage of this weird 'suite' and give you a little show. It won't happen again so soon, so I'm glad you liked it."

"Oh, I really did. Did YOU have a good time?" I asked, as I continued to jerk off in front of her.

"I had a great time. I really like that he respected my wishes to be less 'hands-on' in public, and that made me SO ready for him when we got to bed..."

She paused for a moment, weighing her words, and after she spoke I understood why. Even with everything I had seen, everything I had heard, I was not prepared for the honesty and intensity of what she said next. Sally looked right into my eyes -- with love, but without a hint of doubt or show or guile -- and said,

"Sex with him is what sex is supposed to feel like. No sharp edges, no uncomfortable moments. It's just GOOD."

I don't even know where I got the strength to ask, but I had to ask:

"And with me?"

She did not hesitate with her response. "Sex doesn't ever feel like that with you. I love you, but it doesn't feel GOOD with you."

I sat there naked and masturbating in front of my fully-dressed, fully-satisfied and proper-looking wife, and tried to come to grips with everything that had happened, with what she just said and with the knowledge that Ted's sperm were swimming inside her as we spoke. My mind went to overload and came four days' worth of cum. I screamed out and squirted cum everywhere, while she sat silently and watched. Not with anger; perhaps with a little pity, yet still with love, my wife let me make myself feel just a little bit of what her lover made her feel, and what she made him feel. But we both knew it was not the same. Something had changed, and we felt it.

Since then, Sally has talked about how much she loves her relationship with Ted and how much she is looking forward to their next date. She wrote to him and told him what she said to me, and he answered he was glad she felt that way, because he did, too.

I don't know what it will be like the next time we sit at lunch together, but I do know I will be much, much less comfortable. There will be fewer moments when it seems like "just a normal lunch among friends," since I will not be able to forget what all three of us know: that for my wife, sex with him is what sex is supposed to feel like, and it doesn't ever feel like that with me.

It's not just words. It is reality.

Cuckold Paul