tagLoving WivesA Cuckold's Diary Ch. 02

A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 02

byPaul Pines©

My love,

On Sunday night, the night before your most recent "date," you said, "I'm doing this for you." I know that is true, and I want you to know how much -- how very, very much -- I appreciate and love that. I do hope it wasn't terrible torture for you :-), but I still know it was for me. Thank you, my love, for doing this for me.

I LOVED what you did on Monday. It was the most exciting event I can remember.

I could review the question of why being cuckolded turns me on so, but it's not worthwhile. It should be obvious to you that it is real for me; not one of those fantasies which turns gold into lead when it is realized. You could see, I know, that I savor the role that you created for me, so that's where I start this. I would not like to live my life that way, but on the days that we have "played the game" -- and Monday, you played it better than ever -- I could not have been happier than to be put down, put aside and put out as you did. For whatever the psychology behind it, it was exactly the closeness which you shared with Ted which excited (which is another word for humiliated, though I've still got trouble saying that) me so.

I want to tell you what I loved, and to thank you for the gift you gave... to me, and to Ted.

I loved how easily you went into the bedroom with him, without me. I loved hearing you talk, and giggle, and discuss how I'd react when you threw your clothing out the door -- and how you picked up your bra and tossed it further, to be sure I could see. I thought of him seeing you, my wife, when you would not allow that to me. You looked so happy to be walking to the bedroom with him -- my wife, and another man.

I loved coming into the room, and confronting the image of you -- completely naked, legs spread -- for him. You looked so comfortable giving her body to him.

I loved the look on your face as he touched you and pleased you. You looked so turned on as you felt him touch your intimate places.

I loved watching him massage your back, your legs, your ass, and how you kept humping your ass up to meet his hands when he touched you there. You looked so excited as he got you ready for sex.

I loved how you got on top of him, and reached down to guide his penis into you. You don't know this, but your vagina was literally gaping open. I have seen you many times when we were about to have sex, and I have never seen anything like that; from my vantage point at the foot of the bed, I could see all the way up inside you. Words are one thing, but I loved how your body was hungry to have him inside. Bodies don't lie; you wanted him.

I loved how his big penis slid into you so easily, with no artificial lubrication needed. Watching from between your legs, I saw how he stretched you. Every once in a while the head of his penis would emerge, and as you moved your body back down on him, I watched as your lips opened wider to fit the "crown," then -- as you always describe it, with such a wicked smile -- "pop" back around him. Sally, I saw the pop! And yes, love, I loved seeing something that made you feel so good, that only he could do for you.

I loved how you fucked him so intensely that he came quickly; the man has a *lot* of self-control, and when he came I felt that you had really done a number on him. I loved watching him lose control of himself to your sex. Not only did your body stroke his penis to orgasm, but with each deep stroke and each groan, I was tortured (with pleasure) by the knowledge that I'm not big enough to feel what he was feeling in you. Watching the two of you share a pleasure that I cannot know, and that you cannot know with me, was humiliating -- and breathtaking.

I loved -- I truly loved -- watching him cum in you. There is no moment of feeling cuckolded so strong as when he cums in you. I watched you turn him on -- willingly, you offered him the ultimate pleasure of your body -- and I watched him ejaculate into you. As I sat there masturbating, with my cock waving impotently in the air, he completed the sexual act with you. I watched his body spasm and he filled you with his sperm; what greater cuckolding could there be, than to watch another man inseminate my wife? He did that, and for the rest of the day, and the night, and the following day, I was haunted, and shamed, by the knowledge that his sperm was swimming inside you.

I loved watching Ted make you cum. I loved the looks of absolute pleasure, absolute joy, and absolute amazement on your face, as you kept yourself at such a point of excitement for so long. Watching your face as he slid his cock all the way into you, and used it to pleasure you, was breathtaking. And watching you orgasm in his arms... I will never, ever get used to that. I watched you cast off all appearances, all pretenses, and cum before his eyes: he felt you, he saw you, he heard you. That is supposed to be mine alone, isn't it? I loved watching you give that gift to him. Oh yes, my wife: he made your toes curl!

Afterward, you cuddled. Now, I cannot say how you felt about this, but I loved watching the two of you. You were *comfortable* together; that was absolutely awesome for me. You were both so at ease with each other, with each other's bodies; I watched in awe as another man fondled you, with your complete acquiescence, and how you touched him with no discomfort at all. You gently stroked his body, and he caressed your nipples, your shoulders, your pussy, everywhere. You did that for nearly an hour, and I sat in the chair, alone. You cuckolded me, my love.

Believe it or not, I loved when you sent me out to get pizza. When I was delayed, I kept wondering what the two of you were doing; I felt so stupid, running errands as my wife lay in bed with her lover. When I returned and you told me that you had made him cum with your hand, I was angry; I felt cheated out of watching. Then I realized that this, too, was part of being your cuckold; it didn't matter what I wanted, because you did what *you* wanted. I loved realizing that you had made him cum because you wanted to, not because of me. And I loved being sent on an errand, like the kid brother being given money for the movies so his big sister could make out with her date.

I said so to both of you, but I was taken aback by how humiliating it was to sit and talk with Ted while you were in the bathroom. There I was, sitting in "my chair" at the foot of the bed, while he lay naked in "your" bed. He made small talk with me, as if this was perfectly normal; we were each were we belonged. His cock was soft, but it was lying there in front of me; he made no attempt to cover himself, and I felt he was laughing at me (though he was too much of a gentleman to show it), for what he had done with my wife. I couldn't help staring; even soft, he's larger than I am, and the head of his cock -- that head which you speak about in such dreamy terms -- was staring back at me. He was soft because my wife had fucked him and jerked him off, while I sat in a chair and went to get pizza. I tried not to show it, but I was embarrassed beyond words by that experience.

The final time you made love was something I will never forget as long as I live. You did it all, right in front of my face; you pleasured him and he pleasured you, and the result was complete humiliation for me, your husband.

After I recovered from the "news" about your making him cum while I was out, you asked if I had any requests. I said yes, two: one, that you have sex again; as soon as I said that, you looked at each other, wrapped your arms around each other, said "I think we can arrange that," and fell into a very sensuous kiss. As you did, I just about croaked out the words, "That was my other request -- that you kiss each other now." You said, "Great minds think alike," and you were, literally, off and running.

I loved watching you make love to his penis with your mouth. He had cum twice, and I don't know whether he or I was more surprised that he got so hard so quickly; the only one who didn't seem surprised was you. Watching you lying naked on the bed with his penis in your mouth was thrilling; watching and hearing his reactions to you was almost beyond what I could bear. I loved watching you turn him on.

When you got on top of him again, and used your hand to guide him inside you, he groaned with such total pleasure that it twisted my stomach. With your permission, I sat on the floor next to the bed, where I could watch your faces as you fucked him, and what happened next was... there just are no words. You used your whole body to pleasure him -- you put your breasts in his face, and slid them along his chest; you raised your hips up until he was almost completely out of you, then you dropped onto him as hard -- and as deep -- as you could. Each time, he groaned and gasped in pleasure, and I shook with humiliation and excitement combined. You seemed totally focused on exciting him; the way you moved your body, the way you twisted your hips to move him inside you... it was awesome.

At one point, you slid your body down tightly onto his; he groaned, and he said, "Oh, you really do like it deep, don't you?" As you ground your hips into him you gasped out your response: "He... never... touches... me... there." As I sat there on the floor, next to your bed, the most awesome part was knowing that it was true. I looked down at my cock, as hard and as big as it ever gets, and knew that I could not ever do what Ted was doing, and you were loving, at that moment.

What you did next will always -- always -- remain in my mind, and excite me beyond words. You laid your head down on his chest, his cock deep inside you, and you looked at me. Sally, you looked RIGHT AT ME, and you gently, seductively, wickedly said, "First floor, second floor, third floor, penthouse." I knew what was happening as you said that: you were doing the "Kegel Exercises" which you learned in Lamaze, to tighten your pussy muscles. With each "floor," you were tightening your belly and squeezing him inside you! When the "elevator" reached the penthouse the second time, he groaned out loud and shook with pleasure... and you, with your head resting gently on his chest, smiled at me! That moment was the most awesome, breathtaking, humiliating moment of my life, as you allowed me to see the pleasure you took in pleasing your lover. Thank you, my love, for sharing that moment with me!

I could tell he was close to cumming, when suddenly he pulled out of you and flipped you onto your back. I don't think I'll ever get used to the sight of you spreading your legs so wantonly, and reaching your hand down to guide his cock into you. Now there was nothing gentle, nothing subtle; he pushed inside you and fucked you hard. Sally, I'm sorry that I never knew you liked it so hard; I'm not sure even you knew it until he showed you how it felt. I promise I'll try to do it more like that, but watching him take you, I don't think I will ever be able to match his strength, his stamina OR his size. Watching him push into you, seeing his penis shine with your wetness as he pulled out on each stroke, and listening to the obscenely delighted noises you were making... I was honored to be allowed to watch, to witness him pleasing you so!

And then, my wife, your lover came in you again. Less than a foot away from my face, he orgasmed in you. Grunting and groaning like an animal in heat, totally uninterested in my feelings or even my presence, he found his release in you. I watched his body spasm over and over again, as he pumped his seed into you before my eyes. You held him tightly against you with your arms, your legs and, I knew, with your pussy, until he was completely drained.

When you caught your breath you turned to me, saw the cum dripping down my hand, and said, "I'm glad you enjoyed that. But you didn't enjoy it as much as I did."

Later, as we left the hotel, I thanked you for what you did. I said that from these three "dates," my deepest fantasies had been fulfilled, and if you wanted to stop, It was fine with me. You asked if *I* wanted to stop, and I said no, but I was comfortable with whatever you chose to do. You thanked me, and we drove home.

Three days later, you sent an email to Ted.

You asked him to check his calendar, to see when you could meet again.

I love you, my wife. More than words -- even all these words -- can say.




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