A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 22

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They spoke gently to each other, too softly for me to hear the words but the tone conveying the meaning. They were relaxing together... TOGETHER... after sex. As for me, that strange, self-protective part of me that somehow still thinks that when they are behind the closed door maybe they aren't actually fucking, that maybe they are just engaging in mutual masturbation or something, was blown to shit. I SAW them fucking. I SAW Ted go over the edge and cum in my wife. I SAW my own cuckolding. Sitting on my chair in the hall my cock alternately got hard and soft, as the eroticism and the shame competed for the upper hand in my head.

A short time later -- a VERY short time later -- I heard Ted gasp. I was surprised, but figured Sally was just giving him a loving kiss or two on his cock. Then he groaned... a deep, long groan. What the hell? They hadn't finished fucking more than 15 minutes earlier, and it was always a while before Ted could recharge. But there was no mistaking the sound, or what it signified: my wife was going down on him again, and he was enjoying it.

Sally never went down on me after we fucked. She asked me to clean up first, because she just wasn't interested in tasting her own juices. Yet time after time she does that for Ted, and I know they have neither towels nor Kleenex in the room with them. Apparently she doesn't mind how she tastes when his cock is involved.

I figured they would play for a while, then relax. But Ted's moans grew louder, and then it was Sally's turn to call to me. "Paul, come in. I want to show you something."

I opened the door, and saw Ted lying naked in the middle of the bed. My wife was closer to me, but was facing him with her mouth near his cock and her hand stroking it. Most surprising, he was hard as a rock. I realized that there have been very few times in recent years that I've actually seen his erection; usually, if I see him at all, it's after he has cum in my wife. Even a few minutes ago when he made me watch him cum in Sally's pussy, I saw them from the side, and his cock was buried in her. But here he was: naked, hard, and shaking with excitement as my wife stroked his shaft and kissed the head of his cock.

"Isn't he amazing? He just came, and look how hard he is already!" she said, without taking her eyes off his sex organ. Although she didn't look directly at me, I could see the smile on her face and the lust, too, as she alternated slow and fast strokes and punctuated them with open-mouthed kisses on the head. Ted just gasped and spasmed from my wife's ministrations, never looking at me or saying a word to me. This was my wife's doing -- both his erection and my humiliation -- and he did not want to interfere with what she was doing to me. He knew his role at that moment and he played it well, knowing that after Sally dismissed me she would again be all his.

Many people who have read my diary ask me if I've ever touched Ted's cock, or gone down on him. The answer is no, and looking at his hard-on I realized that I'd make a lousy homosexual; I actually find cocks to be rather ugly appendages, and not the least bit enticing. For me, seeing HIS cock in my wife's hands and mouth did not make me want to join in; if anything, it made me want to cry again, or be sick. A man's cock is what makes him a man; it's part of the symbol for "male" in biology. And a man's cock is what a woman wants inside her when she feels sexual cravings. Seeing him hard, knowing my wife's touch made him that way, and knowing, too, that he would soon slide it back inside her body, made it clear that the only MAN in the room was Ted. I was... something less. And having my wife call me in to show me, to make me see HIM, left me breathless and hurt. I didn't think anything could make me feel worse or make me think less of myself than when Ted had shown me how he came in my wife, but this was much, much worse, because I knew without a doubt that it was my wife who wanted me to see this.

Then she told me to leave, and I did. I sat down outside the door with the image of his sex burned into my eyes, and I heard him GROAN. Then I heard my wife suck in her breath, and I knew they were fucking again. Sure, I thought, he could stick that thing in her for a while, but I took satisfaction in the knowledge he wasn't cumming again so fast.

Then he came. Fast. I didn't know until later that he described it as the most powerful orgasm of his life, or that it happened because my wife unexpectedly turned on her side, lifted her leg over him and guided him into her body. He said they had never fucked on their sides before, and he told me that Sally did something with her pussy muscles that sent a wave of electricity through his body and made him cum like an explosion. All I knew at the time was that he made more noise than ever before: loud, guttural cries of pleasure which seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him. I felt I was hearing from that place where semen originates; that his cries traced its journey from his core, through his cock and into my wife.

No, actually, that's not all I knew. I also knew that my wife, who had made him hard so quickly after he came the first time, wanted me to see what she had done... and what she was going to do. My wife had called me in to see her lover's erection, just before she guided it into her pussy and gave him the pleasure she no longer gives to me. As I listened to him try to catch his breath after his orgasm, the image of his cock pointing straight up, ready to feel pleasure and to squirt sperm, haunted me. I didn't cry, but I was filled with shame at myself for what I had seen and what my wife had done -- so proudly -- with another man.

Not long after, Sally called to me and told me they were ready for lunch. Doing my cuckold duty, I set out their salads and drinks and moved to the couch to watch them eat. (A long time ago I gave up pretending to be able to eat when they are together; these days I sit on the couch and masturbate while they have lunch. It's actually the only time my wife sees me masturbate, because at that moment it just doesn't matter to her. She is with her lover, and what I do is irrelevant.)

Their lunch was interrupted by a stream of "happy birthday" calls from friends and relatives. The best one was when Sally's mother called... the woman who wouldn't let my wife see "Romeo and Juliet" on her 13th birthday because it was too racy. Watching my wife sit at the table next to her lover -- she wearing nothing but an open robe, and he wearing only an unbuttoned, button-down shirt -- while she told her mother how she was "spending the day in bed" was just precious. And the fact that Ted's soft, satisfied cock was visible to me while he sat at the table made the scene perfect.

The calls kept coming in, so Ted moved from the table to a chair facing me in the living room area of the suite. He made sure his shirt fell open, so I was face to face with his cock while Sally talked to our kids, her friends and a few work colleagues. He and I talked softly, but having his cock pointing at me meant I could not avoid seeing the hole at the end... the hole through which he had ejaculated his semen into my wife. Twice. I was hard and he was soft, but there was no question who was the man in the room; he possessed the cock my wife wanted, and now that he had cum in her he had nothing more to prove.

He talked about how good she had made him feel, and mentioned that "I know Sally's not done, but there's no way I'm going to go for a third." My brain scrambled at the words he was saying, as I sat there jerking off while my wife's lover evaluated his chances of a third orgasm.

Finally the calls ended, and Sally walked toward Ted. She reached out her hand for him and said, "I want to be alone with you now." Ted jumped to his feet and the two of them walked away from me without another word.

Her next orgasm shouldn't have surprised me. On every date, the minute they go back to bed after lunch she reaches for her vibrator to get off again. So the fact that I couldn't hear the vibe start up didn't matter; I knew what she was doing. Yet when it happened -- when she cried out, when I heard her body bouncing on the bed, when I heard Ted's whispers of affection as he held her through her orgasm -- I lost it again. Knowing that she used to put off sex with me for days or weeks, and hearing her cum in his arms almost as soon as the door closed, made me feel useless.

And as I sat alone in the hallway, rubbing my penis while my wife gasped through her aftershocks, I understood that what I felt was correct. I'm a good husband, a good father, even a good friend, but I am -- rather, I was -- a terrible lover. The only things I can do to please my wife sexually are understanding that she doesn't want sex with me and bringing her to the man she wants.

That, and making them lunch when they take a break from sex.

All these thoughts occupied my mind when the bedroom fell silent, and I knew they were nearly done for the day. So when I heard Ted groan again I was confused. Hadn't he told me there was no chance for Round 3 for him? Yet he groaned again, and then began panting. His voice rose and sank as a mirror of his excitement; he got close, then backed off, then got close again. Then I heard the sheets move; someone was changing position in some way, but of course I had no idea what was happening. All I knew was that I heard kissing, slurping sounds from my wife, and growing cries of pleasure from Ted.

And then he came. Honest, he came again. He came LOUDLY, and his voice was strained; obviously he had pulled his orgasm from somewhere deep inside him. He was loud even for him, and I wondered who else in the hotel heard him cum. Certainly, there was no way it could have been mistaken for anything else; what I heard -- what everyone heard -- was a man cumming. Ted cumming. In bed with my wife.

Only later would I learn that he had not only cum WITH my wife; he had cum in her mouth. After her orgasm she went down on him (again) and got him hard, and then he started to jerk himself off while she held him and kissed him. As he related it to me afterward, he was just not able to get himself to cum in spite of Sally's "excellent" ministrations. He was just about to give up when she said she wanted him in her mouth. He got on top of her, slid his cock into her mouth, and to his amazement she brought him off with her mouth and hands. When SHE told me about it she said she loved doing that for him, and the most amazing part was that he actually came in her mouth. For someone who says he doesn't cum much volume anymore, she was surprised -- and I was devastated -- that on his THIRD orgasm of the day, he was still able to ejaculate semen into her mouth. I thought back to his first orgasm -- the one he called me in to watch -- and his second, when he came again in her so quickly, and I was sick to my stomach at the thought of his semen, his sperm, squirting into my wife. "I'm saving it to deposit in your wife's womb," he had told me. And he did. Twice. And once in her mouth. And I would take my wife home with him inside her.

When Ted emerged from the bedroom he was dressed. He closed the door behind him and said, "Sally said to give her half an hour to sleep before you go home," and he walked to the living room. As I sat on the couch he literally fell into the chair as if he had no bones left in his body.

"I felt like it was MY birthday today," he said. "I've never been fucked like that, and sucked like that, in my whole life. She just keeps getting better and better."

As he slouched back in the chair, enjoying the afterglow of sex, I jerked off like mad while feeling my stomach tie itself in a knot. He wasn't performing for me, and he wasn't even giving me details to get me excited, as he often does. He was just... fucked out, and didn't mind that I saw it. We both knew that it was MY WIFE who fucked him and it was MY WIFE who made him feel good physically, emotionally and in every other way. She had stripped for him, blown him, cum in his arms, fucked him... and then did it all over again. We both knew it, and facing him then was the culmination of the shame and the pain of the entire day.

I don't really know what we talked about, other than him telling me that he thought I should see him cumming in my wife, and telling me that it was completely Sally's idea to call me in to see how hard she had made him. As I sat there reeling from the experience, I thanked him for showing me how he fucked my wife, and I thanked him for telling me that it was her idea to call me in the second time. I said I hadn't expected too much when I asked them both to hurt me, but they had each hurt me more than ever before.

"I am sure we did," he sighed. "And we enjoyed every moment of it. You have NO idea what you have lost, and you will NEVER feel what your wife gives me.

"Never."

As he rose -- actually, as he dragged himself out of the chair -- he thanked me for bringing my wife to him. Then he said, "Sally told me you're going to her favorite restaurant for dinner tonight. That's really nice, and I'm jealous that you get to spend that time with her. But when you're sitting at your nice, romantic dinner I want you to remember that she came in MY arms, and MY sperm is swimming inside her. No reason you shouldn't be jealous, too." And he left.

Dinner that night was wonderful. Sally had a hard time walking to the door, but we took it slowly and her knee held out. Somehow her brother had learned where we were having dinner, because when we sat down the waitress brought over a bottle of champagne from his wife and him. And somewhere in the middle of the meal I must have drifted off because Sally asked me if I was okay.

"I was thinking about today," I admitted.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" She said, with concern tinged with sexuality.

"Yes, it does. Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm great!" she responded. "I spent the day in bed with my lover, and now a romantic dinner with my husband. And honestly, it feels good to know that you won't ask me to do something I don't want to do when we get home. This is a perfect birthday!"

Today we learned that Sally will have knee replacement next week, at the beginning of June. Ted was disappointed that they have to cancel their next date, but he told me that he wanted her to get better so they could "go back and try some of the positions we used before." He also said he would try to get to our house for a visit while Sally is recovering. "Maybe I can help her to exercise her leg," he suggested.

It has taken me two weeks to write this chapter because I've alternated between masturbating and feeling so bad about myself that it was hard to write. But I hope I was able to communicate some of the cuckold's experience in a way that makes sense, and might even be exciting, to others. Whatever you think of it, it is all true. And if you think anything other than that Sally is an amazing woman, you didn't get it at all.

Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored.

Sincerely,

Cuckold Paul

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