tagLoving WivesA Cuckold's Diary Ch. 25

A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 25

byPaul Pines©

Chapter 25: Discovering Who I Am, and Always Was

October, 2012

Preface: Please, dear Literotica reader, if you don't like stories about cuckolding, don't read this. It's about cuckolding. Honest, I wouldn't lie to you. But if you read it anyway, and you get to the end and go, "Holy shit, this story was about cuckolding!" and insist on giving it a low rating, then I hope it makes you feel incredibly superior to me.

Forward:

Cuckolding has been a journey of discovery for Sally and me. Now, 14 1/2 years after we began, it's a good time to look at exactly what we have discovered.

Sally discovered that she loves sex.

I discovered that I was always meant to be a cuckold.

What brought me to this realization was a combination of a thread from the Cuckold Forum on Ourhotwives.org, and Sally and Ted's last date. The thread's title was, "When did you first discover that you had cuckold tendencies?" I read it with interest, and heard many people saying things that rang true with me. I hope the authors won't mind me quoting them; I've omitted their names to protect their confidentiality, but among the responses:

"I recall from days when I had my first date around 17 y.o., my girlfriend at the time was fooling around with different guys and I found myself strangely not jealous and even imagining her doing the dirty deed..."

"Mine went quite far back. I dated a hot girl in high school..."

"I think the first seed was planted when I was sixteen..."

"Mine was very early in life... She was my high school sweetheart..."

"When I was about 16, but I didn't know what a 'cuckold' was until well into my 20's."

"I guess I was 15."

"It started around age 17, although there were hints as early as 12."

"I sometimes wonder if we're born that way and we're tuned to things like this when they happen?"

"Hmmm...never gave this much thought before...think i was born this way."

Could it be true? Can we be BORN this way? And if not actually "born" this way, can it be that as we discovered sex, we discovered that we were meant to be outside, looking in?

I remember digging my father's Playboy magazines out of his dresser drawer as a teenager. Looking at those astonishingly beautiful women, I was always amazed that they would take their clothes off for men to look at them, to stare at them, to jerk off at them. I actually don't ever remember thinking about fucking them; I just wanted to look – to see them naked. I wondered what could make them expose themselves... Money? Attention? Wantonness? And I wondered what it would be like to see them do that for ME.

A few quick flings in high school, then in my freshman year of college I met the woman (girl?) who would become my first wife. She was willing to try most anything, and in our third year of marriage she came home from work and told me her boss had made a pass at her. She wasn't upset; she seemed surprised and somewhat amused. I asked her what he had said, and as she told me I found myself hard as a rock. I asked her how she responded to his advances, and she said, "I told him I'm married."

"Did you just say you're married, or did you also say that you don't want to?"

She looked a little annoyed, but not as much as I expected. "I said I was married, and the answer was 'no'."

Then, out of nowhere, I heard myself saying, "Well, would you WANT to?" She looked at me with surprise, but really not as much surprise as I expected. She hesitated, then spoke very quietly. "If you would be okay with it, I think I would."

We hugged, we kissed, and my hardon didn't go away. So began a five-year relationship between my wife and her lover. I never saw them in action, since he didn't even want to know that I knew, but I helped her prepare for many dates and welcomed her home after many others.

One day, in year four of their relationship, I spent the morning helping her get ready, physically and emotionally, for a date with her lover. We were sitting on the bed together, waiting for him to buzz at the door to say she should come down to him. I was naked, jerking off as I looked at my wife – dressed, prepared and horny for him. She thanked me for being so good about letting her have a lover and helping her get ready for him, and then she said something I'll never forget.

"You're really no good in bed," she said, "but there can't be any husband anywhere who is better at helping his wife get ready to cheat on him than you are."

I made it a point never to cum before her dates, but I broke my rule that moment as I erupted in my hand. The doorbell buzzed, she smiled at me and left me there, my cum dripping all over my groin. The weird thing was, I actually felt happy about what she said... I was GOOD at helping her get ready to cheat on me! Of course it hurt to have my wife tell me point-blank that she was cheating on me, but it also felt... RIGHT. As if I was always meant to be where I was at that moment.

Our marriage ended a year later, for reasons completely unrelated to our strange, powerful sexual relationship. This was before the internet, so I didn't even know the word "cuckold," let alone think there were others out there like me. I kept my excitement and my shame to myself until I met and became serious with Sally. I told her about my secret desires, and to her credit she didn't run away. She did say "no" very forcefully, but allowed me to entertain my fantasy as long as I wasn't too much of a pain in the ass about it.

You can read in Chapter 1 about how, after 15 years of marriage, Sally changed her mind and began cuckolding me. You can read in all the rest of the chapters about how her sexuality grew, how our closeness as a couple grew, and how at the same time, the instances of our own sex together grew fewer and farther between. At the end of the process, six years ago next month, Sally asked if I could accept her only having sex with him, since it was so good with him and so bad with me. She added immediately that she would want us to have sex once a year, every year, on our anniversary.

There was no question in her mind, or my mind, or even Ted's mind about my answer: I would continue to do everything I could to make their dates perfect; I would bring my wife to him and wait outside while they made love; and now, I would accept that sex is only for them. Other, that is, than once a year. ONCE every 365 days.

I said yes. And that felt right, too.

The experiences which followed our newest agreement have been described in the more recent chapters of my Diary; I leave it to those who are interested to seek them out. But those experiences have gradually convinced me – and Sally, and Ted – that I AM a cuckold; not just that Sally cuckolds me, but that it's what I am and probably was always meant to be. I am very good at a lot of things in life, and even in marriage, but sex isn't one of them and never was. Sally has told me so. My first wife told me so. And deep down I really always knew it.

And so it was that we waited for Ted to arrive at our hotel suite for their most recent date. I had prepared the rooms by making the bed, setting the table for their lunch and laying out Sally's vibrator and KY Intense dispenser beside the bed. I had checked Sally's breasts for any stray hairs, and found none; she puts a lot of effort into preparing herself for him. Now, sitting in the living room of our suite, I looked at my wife: hair and nails recently done, makeup perfect, her outfit chosen specially for her lover as she sat there in a black, see-though bra, matching panties and her almost-transparent short, black robe.

I thought about how comfortable she looked, dressed for sex with another man. No shame, no second thoughts, no concerns that what she is about to do was wrong, and not a moment spent thinking I would stop her from going to bed with Ted when he arrives. I told her she looked beautiful, and I said I hoped they would both have a great time. "Oh, we will. Thank you for doing such a good job of preparing everything for us," is how my wife replied. I said she was welcome, and I meant it. And I felt good that I could do that for her – for them.

When Ted knocked, I opened the door for him and said hello. He ignored me completely and made a beeline for my wife. Leaning over her on the couch he kissed her deeply and his left hand went immediately to her bra-covered tits. He was all over her, kissing and touching her and telling her how much he missed her. She responded in kind, opening her mouth for his tongue and sliding her hand down to his crotch. I saw his cock grow inside his pants as my wife showed him how much she missed him.

I left the room to get them coffee. I know how each of them likes it, and I made sure to get the orders straight. I consciously walked slowly and took my time, as they often laugh at how quickly I return with the coffee when they are together. When I let myself back into the room I saw that they hadn't moved; they were still kissing, Ted was still feeling up my wife, and Sally's hand had created quite a tent-pole in Ted's pants.

They never touched the coffee. They tried to slow the pace a little, talking about family and work, but their hands and their mouths kept being drawn together. I wasn't surprised when Sally said, "It's time for us to be in bed... NOW." Ted nearly jumped to his feet, helped her up from the couch and headed toward the bedroom. But Sally walked over to where I was sitting, bent over and pushed my face into her cleavage.

"This is what I'm giving him. I used to give it to you – only you – but you lost it. Now, it's only for him. I love you, but now I'm going to bed with HIM." She let me stare at the skin above her bra for a minute, then leaned further over and gave me a powerful, passionate, tongue-filled kiss. She has told me that this is the way she always kisses Ted, but the only time she shares it with me is when she is getting ready to fuck him.

She broke away from me, took Ted's hand and walked with him to the bedroom. I heard the door click shut behind them, but the memory of that kiss, and the momentary view of the tops of my wife's tits, remained with me all day.

I took off my clothes and took my seat right outside the closed bedroom door. I heard clothes rustling, covers moving, kissing and gasps from Ted... I didn't need to see them to know that my wife was sucking his cock within two minutes of saying she loved me.

No sooner had I started to jerk off than the bedroom door opened. Ted had opened it, and I saw him standing naked next to the bed, facing away from me. His body shook, and I saw Sally lying on the bed, facing him and blowing him. I couldn't see her face and I couldn't see his cock; all I saw was his naked ass clenching and jerking as my wife pleasured him. He leaned his left arm on the headboard for support as his hips began rocking back and forth: he was fucking my wife's mouth. I sat there in awe of what they were doing, of what he was feeling, and I tried to stay silent as I masturbated to the sight. After three or four minutes of flaunting their sex in front of me, Ted reached over and shut the door in my face.

I hear talking, moving around, covers rustling and the sound of Sally's vibrator starting up. I listened as my wife's lover touched her, kissed her, sucked her nipples and told her how much he wanted her to feel good in his arms. {I couldn't actually make out the words, but Sally told me later that this is what he said.} His excitement grew as hers did, and I knew she was cumming even before I heard her gasp, simply from the tone and tenor of his erotic whispers.

Yes, it really hurts to hear my wife cum in her lover's arms. No question about it, it hurts, especially since she's told me (and shown me) that she would rather get off alone, or not at all, than do it with me. Only on our anniversary do I get to hold her when she cums, and only once. Since she cums two or three times on each date with Ted, I understand that the one time is a gift she gives to me, not something she herself enjoys as sex. Yet along with the pain are two other feelings which I've come to see and appreciate: happiness and satisfaction. Happiness that she can feel so good in her lover's arms, and satisfaction that I have found my sexual station in life. My place is outside the bedroom door, playing with myself while my wife finds pleasure with her lover.

Ted hadn't cum yet, so I knew what would happen next. Within a minute of her orgasm I heard the movements which would result in him fucking my wife. Sure enough, the random sounds quickly turned rhythmic; anyone in the world would recognize the cadence of two people fucking. I jerked off like mad, thinking about what it must feel like to Ted as he slides his cock in and out of my wife's pussy.

Suddenly, Sally called my name. "Yes?" I answered tentatively. "Come in," she said. I stood up, my penis still in my hand, and opened the bedroom door.

I don't know how to describe the scene I saw because I have to describe it one subject at a time, while in real life it all hit me simultaneously. So please try to picture this:

Sally is on her hands and knees, on top of Ted. They are both completely naked. Sally is rocking gently back and forth, and I get a glimpse of Ted's hard cock sliding in and out of her pussy. Her tits are pointing at his face, and he is holding one in each hand and kissing first one nipple then the other. He is groaning and his legs are shaking with each movement of my wife's hips on his cock.

Have the picture? Now let me add one more thing: If you've been reading my Diary, you know that Sally had her second knee replacement surgery this past June. So I swear to God, my first thought when I came into the bedroom was that I was so glad her knee felt good enough to do this – to be on top of him while she fucked him. I said that to them, and Sally – without altering her rhythm at all - remarked to Ted, "Wow, he noticed!"

She didn't say a word to me. She never looked at me. But obviously it was all right with her for me to watch her fuck another man for a while. I stood by the side of the bed, taking in every detail of their passion, their lovemaking. Her tiny gasps, his louder groans, her tits given so freely, her newly-repaired knees doing so well in bending back and forth, back and forth...

As quietly as possible, I walked to the foot of the bed. Standing there I saw... sex. Raw, passionate, powerful sex. I remembered Woody Allen's response when he was asked if he thought sex is dirty: "It is if you do it right." Well, they were doing it right, and what I saw was just plain dirty: my wife's pussy, naked and open; her legs spread around Ted's body; her ass cheeks wide and her asshole gaping open as if imitating its neighbor, her pussy, which formed a huge O around Ted's hard cock. Even in the dim light of the bedroom I could see his cock glisten, and I knew it was the coating of my wife's pussy juices on him. As I watched, she rocked back and forth over the head of his cock; I saw it disappear and reappear with each stroke. After a few seconds of this he groaned, "God, you're teasing me like that," and Sally responded by sitting all the way down on him in one powerful stroke. He cried out in pleasure, and I had to grab the base of my penis to keep from cumming at the sight.

They continued fucking. Actually, my wife continued fucking; Ted just lay there, erection sticking up, as she slid her pussy up and down on it. With each stroke I saw her lips cling to his cock and with every move I heard him cry out with pleasure. It was dirty, it was beautiful, it was sexy, it was obscene and it was a private moment between lovers which they felt they could share with the woman's cuckold husband. It was the most amazing sight of my life.

After I-have-no-idea-how-long, Sally rested her body on Ted, kissed him deeply and waved at me to leave them alone. I croaked out, "thank you both," and as I closed the door behind me I saw his cock still embedded in my wife's pussy.

In less than a minute he came in her. I didn't see it, but I heard it. His "oh! Oh! OH!" grew louder, the headboard banged faster and then he gave cries of pleasure which could not be mistaken for anything else. I heard him cum, I heard him ejaculate in my wife, I heard what happens when a man's cock is caressed by a woman's pussy. The "first round" was complete. They were satisfied, at least for the moment, and I was hard as I sat by myself and listened to sex.

After a quiet time, they began to talk. I have no idea what they talked about, but I heard them talking like friends as well as lovers. I knew from past experiences that while they were talking they were touching each other; they never "just" talk, they are always caressing each other's bodies as they do. I calmed down, too, and started to think about what I had witnessed: Ted opening the door so I could see Sally sucking his cock, and Sally calling me in to see her fucking Ted. It was SO hot, so exciting, that my calm lasted only a few minutes. Soon I was hard, right on the edge of losing it.

It was at that moment that Sally said, "Paul, please come here." I pulled back from the edge, got up, opened the door and entered the bedroom – THEIR bedroom. I saw the two of them spooning: Ted on his left side, molding his body to my wife's. Sally reached up, handed me three pieces of her pocket rocket and said, "Would you please put this together for me?"

A little background here: we buy the inexpensive, generic vibrators for Sally because she goes through them rather quickly :-). Of those that she's killed, many have died in the heat of battle as she has jammed them back together after cumming with Ted, when she wants to cum again. I've asked her to be careful with them, or at least to let me put them back together for her, so her request was not really that surprising. I took the pieces from her, wiped enough of the Vaseline off my right hand to get a grip, and gently reassembled it. When I was done I put it in her hand and she said, "Thanks, now leave." It was buzzing before I got the door closed.

It took her a while to cum this time – long enough that I wondered if she'd get off, and if I would stay hard while it went on and on and on. But Ted's excitement never waned; I heard him talking to her, encouraging her, kissing her wherever he was kissing her... until finally she let out a huge groan and came in his arms. I remembered Sally telling me how he never makes her feel rushed, never gets bored and never gets impatient when he's playing with her, and once more I knew that the right man – the REAL man - was in her bed.

They fucked again and Ted came in her again, though I cannot tell you anything about it since I was not invited in to watch. All I can say is that it sounded like it felt good to both of them.

In the quiet after Ted's orgasm, I had time to think about what had happened. I tried to piece together the three experiences: Ted opening the door for me to watch Sally sucking his cock, Sally calling me in to show me how well she could fuck him on top, and then asking me to fix her vibrator so she could cum with him a second time. What struck me was how comfortable both of them were with what they did to me, as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a woman's husband to sit outside while she fucked her lover, and even to offer assistance to make sure they had a good time.

Then it hit me: now, in our relationship, it IS normal. My wife has a lover who gives her the sexual satisfaction she never experienced in our marriage. Ted has a lover who truly wants him and wants to please him. And I am what I was born to be: a cuckold. Sally knows it. Ted knows it. I know it.

Ted was happy to open the door and let me watch as my wife sucked his cock because it didn't matter – I didn't matter. He knew I wouldn't interfere; I would just sit there and rub my penis while he fucked my wife's mouth. He let me watch for a while, because he knew that's what a cuckold does. Then he closed the door so he and his lover could be alone together. Perfectly natural.

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