A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 31: Having Fun

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A cuckold couple find what really works.
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Part 35 of the 39 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/20/2003
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"Having Fun"

October 2014

Want to know how to kill a masochist's excitement? Just say, "Tell me if this hurts too much and I'll stop."

I'm a masochist. I get off on being hurt. I don't have much experience with physical pain, but I've said for years that cuckolding is "psychological S&M." I've also corresponded with many masochists who actually live, and live for, the thrill of being hurt by someone. Some have gone to professional dominatrices, others have been fortunate enough to have someone they love who understands their excitement at being hurt. Bottom line, the excitement is all about control... or lack thereof. Very few people are actually turned on by being HURT; most masochists get off on losing control. When you are with someone who is so in control that she (or he) is willing to hurt you without regard for how you feel, it is SUCH a turn on! Which is why "tell me when to stop" kills the mood.

Professional doms will always give their subject a "safe word"; a word to use if they actually go too far. This makes sense, as no one wants to be arrested for doing damage to another person. And a pro cannot possibly know what the subject really means when he or she says "Oh God, that hurts!" Is it, "Oh God, that hurts and I'm so excited I'm going to cum!" or is it "Oh God, that fucking hurts and you have to stop or I'm going to die!"? Hence the "safe word," which is both safe and... a buzz kill.

So the ultimate sexual experience for a masochist would be someone who knows them so well that they are not only able to understand their need to be hurt, but also know them well enough to hurt them as much as they can stand, but never more. Without asking. Without a "safe word." A person who knows the subject so well that she can ENJOY hurting him because she knows it turns everyone on.

Where can anyone find such a person? Well, I'm married to her. Her name is Sally.

You can go back and read about the development of our cuckoldress/cuckold relationship over the past 31 years of marriage and 16 years of cuckolding, but if you've followed our story you know that Sally did not come to this easily. I won't go into the difficulties a loving wife has when she hears her husband begging her to hurt him by fucking another man, but believe me it wasn't easy for her. Only gradually, as she realized a) that I really DID like being hurt like this, and b) she actually really liked sex when it was with someone better at it than I am, was she able to let go and have fun. First, she let go and started having fun fucking her lover and then, slowly, she came to have fun hurting me as she did.

To all those who comment - anonymously, of course - on Literotica saying I should dump the bitch, my only response is to say that you should ever in your life be so lucky as to find a partner as loving, caring and willing to try new things as Sally. And, I might add, so lucky as to find as caring lover and friend as Ted is. And as for our marriage, your concern is misplaced. Married over 31 years, more in love than ever, and every single sexual fantasy I have is about my wife. Actually, that's not true: every time I jerk off I think about my wife, but it's never fantasy - I just replay reality!

I give all this as preface to prepare for my story, which happened in October. I suggest you read the previous chapter, "The Towel Waver," before this one, as I pick up immediately after that date. Once again, if you're a cuckold, I hope you enjoy our experiences. If you are someone who is so sexually insecure that you get off on writing screeds to people who live different (and more exciting?) lives than you, I'm sure you'll love what I have to say :-)

Right after Ted and Sally's September date, life got in the way big time. Between ailing parents and massive work obligations, our attention was diverted the minute we got in the car to drive home from Pennsylvania that afternoon. Sure, I masturbated LOTS over the following weeks, replaying the details of my humiliation in front of the two of them, but Sally and I didn't have a minute to talk about it together. Two weeks went by, and my insecurities began to rear their ugly heads. Was she not talking about it because we went too far? Was it difficult for her to deal with the way I shamed myself in front of them, and the way she and Ted cuckolded and laughed at me? I love our cuckold relationship, but I love Sally more... had we gone too far this time?

Finally, we had a minute - literally a minute - alone together when it wasn't 2 a.m. I said, "Look, I know we've been really busy, but are you upset with what happened last time? Was it too much?"

Sally looked surprised, and I could see her reviewing the past two weeks. "God, no, it wasn't too much at all. We've just both been so busy, there hasn't been time to talk or play. But don't worry - I really had fun!"

"You had fun with Ted, or you had fun laughing at me?" I asked.

"Both!" she said, without a moment's hesitation.

"It wasn't... you know, too much? Seeing me like that?"

"You mean seeing you kneel beside the bed and play with yourself while I sucked Ted's cock? Making you say you're not a man, and he is? Nope, not too much at all.

"It was FUN."

She then ran off to her next commitment, and I pulled down my pants and played with myself until I came, replaying her words over and over. Fucking Ted was fun, and laughing at me was FUN, too. I came really, really hard.

I came hard the next day, and that day after that, too. In fact I came hard every day until it was time to stop cumming to get ready for their next date.

We were back to our normal schedule - going to the hotel the night before and me waking Sally up with breakfast in bed when it was time for her to get ready for her lover. Ted told us the day before that he would have to leave at noon, so he planned to arrive at 9 a.m. sharp. Traffic always seems to delay his arrival, so Sally asked me to wake her at 8, feeling sure that would be plenty of time for breakfast and "preparations."

Ted arrived at 8:45. He said he was sorry he had to leave at noon, so he wanted to "take advantage of every moment I have with my girlfriend." I opened the door to our suite when he knocked, and sat with him while Sally finished getting dressed (sort of) and ready. That time is always odd for me: Ted is a really great guy, and is a true friend to me as well as to Sally, so part of the conversation is very relaxed and casual. But the huge, unspoken truth is that he's there to have a date in bed with my wife, and she is as anxious for it as he is. So we talk and he only occasionally smirks at me, the cuckold husband whose wife only fucks her lover.

When Sally entered, there were two sharp intakes of breath: from Ted and from me. She wore a halter-top black negligee with a single string tied behind her neck, black matching panties and a short black, sheer robe. Her hair was beautiful, her makeup accented her amazing eyes, and her breasts were just about popping out of her top.

It's funny how, even after all these years, I had a moment of "Oh my God, you can't dress like that now - there's another man here!" But that feeling lasted only until she crossed the living room to where he had gotten to his feet, because the moment they met they held and kissed each other like... well, like lovers. And then I remembered: I brought her here so she could fuck him. She's dressed exactly as she should be - at least until she's not dressed at all.

In spite of Ted's anticipated early departure, they sat on the couch and talked for about six years. Actually it was 15 minutes but, well, if you think chatting casually alone with Ted is awkward for me, you have NO idea what it's like to be-there-but-not-be-there while Ted and Sally catch up, make out and do what lovers do before heading to bed together. Ted showed his appreciation for Sally's flimsy negligee by gently caressing her breasts and occasionally squeezing her nipples as they sat close and talked, and Sally's hand drifted down to the front of his pants several times. Finally they decided it was time, so Sally gave me our now-customary, "Here's a tiny sample of what I'm about to give him" kiss and off they went. Last time she had undressed him in front of me; the time before that, he had undressed her. This time it was clear that they were there for each other, and when they left for the bedroom there was no hesitation about leaving me behind.

As I related in the previous chapter, I was okay with that. In the past I might have obsessed for a while over what I didn't get to see, but now I'm not just "okay" with the fact that my job is to bring her to him; I'm happy about it. I've decided to be the best possible cuckold I can be, to do everything I can to make sure they have a good time together and to take my pleasure in the psychological pain which cuckolding brings.

As soon as I heard the bedroom door click shut I pulled off my pants and underwear, grabbed a chair, placed it outside the bedroom door and sat down. I coated my penis with Vaseline and began to enjoy my part in their sex: being allowed to listen at the door, and being ready to do whatever they ask - IF they ask anything.

I heard the sound of Ted's belt buckle, then a gasp, and I knew his cock was already in my wife's mouth. Thinking back to their previous date, when Ted humiliated me - and made me humiliate myself - while Sally sucked his cock right in front of me, my penis hardened in record time. I could picture it, since I had seen it up close and personal just last month.

You know how you THINK you know something, but then when you actually see it you realize how wrong you were? It turns out I was wrong. When I pictured what was going on behind the door it was somehow more like a slightly gauzy-focused porn video, not real flesh-and-blood humans touching each other's bodies. How do I know I got it wrong? Because just a few minutes into their sex, Ted called me to come in.

I jumped to my feet and opened the door, trying not to slam it in my excitement. I LOVE when they call me in, whatever it is for! But the minute I entered the room I was confronted with reality, not fantasy. Ted - A MAN - was lying naked on the bed in front of me. I saw his naked feet, his hairy legs and torso, his pubic hair, his hairy balls. What I could not see was his cock, since it was in my wife's mouth - my now-naked wife's mouth. Apparently my entrance had been perfectly timed, as Sally had just swallowed his cock and his mouth fell open as he groaned with pleasure. He looked at me and smiled, then said, "We wanted you to see what you're missing."

Sally looked up at me standing over her - over them. She blinked to acknowledge my presence but continued to make love to Ted's cock. He moaned and his body shook, and when she pulled her mouth off him I saw that he was completely hard. I couldn't take my eyes off the sight of my wife, naked, sucking on her lover's erection and looking straight at me. I watched her kiss and lick the head, then lick up the length of his shaft, then open her mouth and swallow him again. "Bareback" doesn't begin to describe the sight of her mouth on the skin of his cock.

"Do you see her looking at you, Paul?" Ted asked. I nodded. "Her mouth is full right now, but that look means she doesn't want to do this with you... EVER. But she wanted you to see how she looks when she's enjoying sex."

I started to say something, but the words wouldn't come out. She really did look like she was having fun: she was getting off on sucking her lover's cock, and she was getting off on showing me. I could see it in her face, even though her mouth was full of penis. She continued to look at me, smiling at me with her beautiful eyes as she kissed, licked and sucked her lover's erect cock.

Then with a wave of her hand (it's not polite to speak with your mouth full) she made it clear that she wanted me to leave. NOW.

I SO wanted to stay; it had been less than a minute, and I wanted to see more. But Sally's gesture left no doubt and no room for discussion, so remembering my pledge to be a good cuckold I thanked them both for letting me see, and backed out of the room.

As I closed the door I heard him cry out with pleasure. I didn't know what she had just done to him, but I knew how she was making him feel - there was no doubt about that. Afterward, he told me that the minute I left the room she "got on top of me and rode me. It was amazing how wet she was, and how much she wanted to fuck me when you left." Having heard the sounds he made, I had no reason to doubt his description of what had happened.

I sat down in my chair and masturbated as hard as I could without cumming. I thought about what I had just seen and what Sally told me last time - that it was fun sucking his cock, and fun having me watch. Even though she hadn't let me watch very long this time, I now knew she thought it was fun to let me see her suck her lover's cock. She knew it hurt me to be treated this way, and she knew I loved it.

My wife has fun hurting me.

MY WIFE HAS FUN HURTING ME!

She never asked if it hurt too much. She didn't have to. She knew it hurt just enough... just enough that it excited all three of us. And then she sent me away so she could go back to giving her full attention to her lover, knowing that that, too, would hurt me... just enough.

He came. Hard. Of course he knew I would hear: he says I'm just irrelevant to them when they are making love, but I have to believe there is at least a little sadistic pleasure in having a man hear you cum in his wife. I've said it before, and it's hard to explain, but I nearly cried - and I nearly came. We all know that Sally gives me only one mercy fuck a year, and even that doesn't have any of the raw, sexual passion she reserves for her lover. But time after time I sit outside the bedroom door and play with my little penis while Ted fucks her and cums in her. In her pussy, in her mouth, in her hand... He knows it hurts me, and he says he doesn't care. But he makes sure I hear each of his orgasms, and he says it's great that his feeling so good makes me feel so bad.

They were quiet, and I heard Sally's pocket rocket start to hum. Tiny gasps make their way through the door, accompanied by Ted's soft voice encouraging her. I don't know what he said, I don't know exactly what they did, but I know he was helping her feel good. I thought of all the times Sally played with her vibe at home while I sat nearby, talking to her without seeing or touching her. When it takes a long time for her to get off she says, "I wish Ted was here to get me over," and I always say I understand. Now he was here, and he was helping her get over.

I'm disappointed in myself that I can't even help my wife get off. I know we tried for years - SHE tried for years - but once she got comfortable with Ted she learned how her body responds when she's in bed with a real man. She usually cums very quickly with him, but even when it takes her a while he never tires of making love to her. He makes her feel good, and feel good about herself, in ways I never could. I really wish I could, but now I take perverted satisfaction in bringing her to him so he can give her what she deserves.

Which means that this part of their lovemaking also hurts me - and feels good to her. I KNOW it feels good to her, because I hear it now, sitting outside the door. Her whimpers grow in volume and frequency, interspersed with moans and soft words of affection for her lover. Then, always, there is a silence: the silence as her body approaches, stands on and then goes over the edge.

I have related before how Ted feels that Sally's orgasms are her most precious gift to him. He has also told me that they should hurt me more than anything else, because they are an intimate experience she shares only with him. As he put it, "everything else is mechanical. But when she cums for me it is completely personal."

After the silence, she came for him. I sat there, trying to be quiet, while my wife came in her lover's arms. Each cry, each slap as her body slammed down on the bed, each grunt as her muscles spasmed and pushed her breath out of her felt like a knife in my stomach. I was hard as a rock, jerking off like mad, and it HURT SO MUCH!

Once again, my wife was having fun hurting me.

I've asked her many times how it feels to cum with Ted, knowing I'm right outside the door hearing everything. Her basic answer is that when she cums she doesn't think about anything except him, her and how it feels to cum, but she's acknowledged more and more that she really likes knowing I'm listening when she forgets about me. When I tell her it hurts to hear her cum she says, "It should."

It did. I heard Ted get my wife "over" in just a couple of minutes - far faster than she ever gets off at home. I heard her cum - HARD - and I heard him kissing her and encouraging her all the way. When she finally finished - yes, I heard each of the "aftershocks," too - they were quiet again, until they asked me to bring them their coffee from the living room.

If you would, please back up from this scene for a moment and take in the Big Picture. Having brought my wife to a hotel in Pennsylvania, I opened the door and invited her lover to come in. They sat and kissed in front of me, then told me they were going to bed together. I sat outside the door and listened as my wife made passionate love with another man, and I hear them each have a screaming orgasm. Then they asked me to bring them coffee.

My response was, "Do you want me to reheat it first?"

No, I'm not proud of that. I'm excited as hell by it, but I'm not proud of it. How could I be?

They said it was fine as it was, so I wiped just enough of the Vaseline off my hand to be able to grip the two cups. I knocked on their door - it is, after all, THEIR door - and they told me to come in.

Sally was on her back, with the sheet covering her only to her waist. Her magnificent tits were exposed, and Ted was staring at them. He was lying on top of the sheet, completely naked; his half-erect cock giving me a one-eyed glare as if I had no business barging in on their sex.

I handed each of them their coffee, being careful not to confuse which belonged to whom - certainly not because of any concern over them getting each other's germs, but because Sally takes milk in hers and Ted doesn't.

My hand automatically returned to my penis when I handed them the coffee, and I stood there stupidly playing with myself while they drank. Her tits, his cock, their naked bodies, their kisses exchanged openly between sips of their drinks... I tried to assimilate it all, but it overwhelmed me.

I was just beginning to get into a rhythm when Sally gave me the same wave-of-the-hand she had used earlier to dismiss me. I guess I whined a little when I said, "You want me to leave NOW?"

Ted looked at me with a combination of annoyance and pity. "You can't stay here, Paul," he said in a very firm tone. "This isn't your place." And with that he nodded in the direction of my chair in the hallway.

I felt like a child dismissed from the grownups' conversation, and I guess that wasn't so far from the truth. I hung my head, turned for the door and followed my pointing penis out of THEIR room, closing the door softly behind me.

What followed was a quiet time, as I expected. Lovers lying together, talking together. I know from what I've seen and what I've been told that their hands never leave the other's body when they are in bed together. Ted caresses my wife's breasts, glides his hands over her arms, legs and torso while they talk. And to Ted's constant delight, my wife is unable to keep her hands off his cock. Even when it's soft she touches and strokes it, stopping only to hold his balls or play with his nipples. It is hours of constant sexual arousal meant to impress no one; just lovers enjoying each other and... having fun.

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