A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 11

The lovers spent another hour together talking and cuddling, then Ted came out, dressed. While he washed his face I diplomatically retreated to the living room chair. For a moment I thought about putting my pants on, or at least pausing my masturbation, but that quickly passed; trying to maintain my dignity at this point was a lost cause. I thought Ted would say goodbye and head for the door, but he made himself comfortable on the couch opposite me.

THE SECOND CONVERSATION

"We had a WONDERFUL time," Ted began. "Sally is so passionate, so giving. At least, she is to me. We each came twice." He looked toward the ceiling, obviously remembering the details. "She was so wet and so excited. We were fucking the first time and she grabbed her vibe, and she got VERY close again and again, but fucking was breaking her concentration, so I pulled out and laid down beside her."

I had been stroking myself as he spoke, but when she said "pulled out" I nearly lost it. He pulled out of MY WIFE... he pulled his penis out of her pussy, so he could lie beside her and help her cum! I jerked off like a madman, using all my willpower to keep from cumming as he told me about fucking my wife.

"She came very quickly after that. The first time was much quicker than the second. But right after she came I got back on top of her and came in her."

"Are you talking about the first time she came, or the second?" I gasped.

"Both, actually," he answered with a smile.

"You were on top each time you came?"

He thought for a minute, replaying the sex in his mind. "Yes, I was. That position works best for us. The second time she got on top of me for a little while, but I rolled her over and put her legs up on my shoulders. That's the way I get deepest inside her, and I came like that."

I was overwhelmed. "Us"?? He talks about my wife and him as "us"?? He's sitting there, as polite as ever but more smug than I remember, talking about what "works best for us"? Telling me how he maneuvers my wife's body so he can get his cock deepest inside her? Yes, he has talked about these things before, but something was different now, and I was about to find out what.

"So, it's been 11 months since you had sex. Sally and I were talking about that. I think our once-a-month schedule is perfect, because it keeps it from getting too familiar. Every time is special for us. But I was wondering if it was enough for her, so I asked her if she was denying herself pleasure. She said she'd like more sex, but she can get herself off whenever she wants. And she said she's not missing anything by not having sex with you."

He let that sink in, and it really did take a minute. Now I understood what was different: Sally had, for the first time, told him that she didn't want sex with me. Yes, he knew that we had gone nearly a year without it, but apparently he had thought she was just playing along with the cuckolding game. Now he knew that she was not playing a game at all. Whatever words she used this time, he left their bedroom knowing that my wife really didn't want sex with me. Only with him. And he was enjoying that knowledge tremendously.

"I was thinking that I know what Sally looks like as well as you do," he continued, "and I know what she feels like better than you do. You haven't been inside her in almost a year – I bet you've forgotten what she feels like in there, haven't you?"

I looked at him sitting there, dressed and satisfied and, for the first time, gloating over his relationship with my wife. I saw myself, too – hunched over in a chair, naked and masturbating and shaking while my wife's lover flaunted his intimacy with my wife. My humiliation was excruciating and I could barely speak, but at the same time I remembered that, on an earlier date, Ted had stopped talking with me and had left because, as he put it, "you were just a grunting, incoherent mess." And I knew, as surely as I knew anything, that I wanted this painful scene to continue. So I concentrated on the words and answered his question.

"You're right, I have forgotten what she feels like. It's been so long – so very, very long – that I don't even know. All I know is how you sound when you cum, and it sounds SO good."

"Oh my, it really is. It is so wonderful to be inside her, to cum in her. I'm sorry you miss out on it, but I guess the reward is mine."

Trying to keep the conversation going, I said, "It was really exciting seeing the two of you touching each other. I had forgotten what that looked like, too."

I thought this was a good opening for him to tell me about how much he loves my wife's tits, or how good it feels when she strokes his cock. Instead, what he said landed on me like a ton of bricks.

"I wanted to talk to you about that. I was very surprised that you asked to see us together. I thought you were past that."

"What do you mean, past that?" I asked in complete surprise.

"Watching is about a threesome: Sally and me and you. I thought you understood that we are not a threesome anymore. We are a couple: Sally and me. I was surprised that you asked to be included, because I thought you understood that you're not included anymore."

I looked at him, searching for a hint of a smile. There was none. Nor was there the smallest sign of discomfort at what he said. What I saw was concern... or, more accurately, pity. My wife's lover wanted to help me understand that I had disappointed him by thinking that I was entitled to see sex. Not to HAVE sex; that had been taken away nearly a year ago. But to SEE it: to share in one, small way in sex between a woman and a man – between my wife and her lover. I saw him searching for the right words to help me know my place; to know that when my wife is having sex, my place is outside the bedroom door, with the door securely closed between us.

At that moment, the realization came over me. Sitting naked in front of Ted, masturbating and harder than I ever was in my life, listening to his description of making love with my wife and his gentle lecture on how I had crossed a boundary which I was not entitled to cross, I suddenly knew that I had found what I was born to be. I was a cuckold. In every sense of the word, in the cold, harsh reality of the sunlight streaming through a hotel window and illuminating the scene of a lover lecturing a cuckold about proper behavior, I was where I was supposed to be. At the same time that I wanted to melt into the upholstery in shame over what he was saying and how I was responding, I also knew that there was only one thing to say.

"You're right, Ted. I'm sorry. I really wanted to see sex, and it was very exciting to see you two touching each other, but it isn't my place. I know I'll want to see it again, but I promise I'll do my best to keep quiet and to stay out of your private time."

Ted smiled a genuine smile. "Thank you," he said. "I'm very glad to hear that, and I appreciate it. It will make it better for all of us next time." With that he got up and headed toward the door. At the door he turned to me and added, "Sally and I made a date for November 20th. It works perfectly for us to celebrate your one-year anniversary."

I shuddered intensely. "I'm really glad. I hope it is a great day for both of you. And thank you for taking such good care of my wife," I called after him.

He turned toward me, smiled again and said, "It was my pleasure. She deserves everything I share with her." And he left.

Sally slept for another half hour, then I kissed her awake. She got out of bed, and I saw her naked as she reached for her clothes. She looked absolutely beautiful, and I wanted to reach for her, to touch her, to have sex with her right there and then. But she was quietly dressing, still reveling in the memories of her lover's touch. She was there, but not THERE. More accurately, she was there – but not there for me.

When she was dressed we hugged tightly and said we loved each other. In the car on the way home, she asked me if I had had a good time.

"I'm a cuckold," I said, trying not to drop my entire revelation on her all at once.

"I know," she answered with a smile.

"No, I mean I really AM a cuckold. I was meant to be one. I don't belong in your bed when you are making love; I belong outside the door." I looked toward her, hoping I had not upset her.

"I know," she answered. "I like that. And I can't wait for November 20th."