A Night on the Couch Pt. 02

This is a loving cuckold story. If that is not your thing, I'm just letting you know. The first chapter of this story was told from the husband's pov. I'm trying something different, and chapter two will be told by the wife. Wish me luck; and please vote so I know whether or not to try that again. Thanks.

If you tell anyone I admitted this, I will deny it!

My husband was right. Spot on. Prescient. To say he saved our marriage may be excessive, because I love him so. But to say he once again sacrificed to enrich my life? Damn straight.

I had pretty much given up on sex. Well, rewarding sex, anyway. Tom did a pretty good job at cunnilingus, although as with most men, the act was only foreplay for him. He would go down on me and get me good and aroused, then go to "finish the job" with intercourse.

The only problem was that Tom is a inveterate premature ejaculator.

So try as he might, our love-making was predictable. Make out, a few minutes of cunnilingus, Tom pushing into Cindy, Tom cumming almost before he fully penetrated me, leaving me with a mess to clean up.

And no orgasm.

Sometimes I just cut to the chase and either went down on him or gave him a handjob so I wouldn't have to clean up.

It was not good. I would get frustrated, sometimes angry and resentful. I did not go off on him. Just kept it inside. But Tom is not stupid or uncaring. He knew. How could he not?

Ironically, it was Tom who convinced me to do something about it.

He has always been selfless. Aside from his preemie pecker, he has always put me first.

I am not even the one who brought it up. He was.

One night after he had just spurted copious amounts of his jizz into me and had fallen down beside me on the bed, I began to get up. To go in the bathroom and clean up. The frustrated yet dutiful wife.

He reached out and pressed me gently back onto the mattress. I realized for the first time that there were tears in his eyes. This was bothering him as much if not more than it was me.

Silently, he began kissing his way down my abdomen. Back to my sloppy, cum filled cunny. He crawled between my legs and put his mouth near my sex.

I tried to push him away. "Honey, no...I'm nasty!"

He pushed my hands away. "Babe...you deserve this...and I owe it to you...just relax. USE me."

And he began licking my pussy again. The thought of him eating himself out of me turned me on. It was almost like a kind of comeuppance for leaving me wanting in the first place. But how could he do that?

This time, he stayed. He made love to my clit with his tongue for a long time...until I had an orgasm! Don't get me wrong...I had cum before. But by my own hand or with a vibrator. The freedom and sensations of experiencing an orgasm while relaxing, from his efforts, was glorious to me.

And I did not have to go clean up.

In the weeks to come, this became our routine. So much so that each time he would spurt into me, I would instinctively place my hands on his head and press him down to my crotch. Time for mine, bucko.

What had he awakened in me? A couple of times, after he had eaten me to orgasm, he had regained his erection. He habitually tried to push his cock back in to me. I impulsively pushed him away. Nothing doing, buddy. I'm clean now, and I'm gonna stay that way. So now it was him going to sleep all worked up with no release. I felt bad. But then I didn't.

Then one night, as we were laying in bed, he sent a video from his phone to the TV without preamble. I watched in silence as a porn scene played out. A man with a large penis was fucking a redhead in the missionary position. She was thrashing her head from side to side, bucking her hips up into him, and emitting tantric, orgasmic screams.

My pussy was soaked beneath the covers.

I was surprised by his question.

"Do you think that is real?"

I hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"Is she really cumming from fucking? That much?"

I waited so long to answer that he essentially had his answer.

"Did you cum that hard with the...men you were with before?"

It almost broke my heart. The meaning of his pause was obvious. The...men. He did not rank himself with the MEN I had been with.

"No...I mean, it felt good, but they didn't make me do that." As much as it had to hurt, I could not lie to him.

"You deserve that."

I did not know what to say. "Okay."

"I mean it. I can't give it to you, and you deserve it. So we have to find someone to give that to you."

I was dismayed. "I can't cheat on you!"

He surprised me with his logic. "Well, first off, it isn't cheating if I know about it. Life is short. If I can't give it to you, I can sure as hell make sure a real man does. I can't fix your BMW, but I can find someone who can. I can't do electrical, but I can hire an electrician."

"It is NOT the same thing!"

He spoke quietly, "You're right. It is more important."

I had a mix of feelings. I did not want to lose Tom, I did not want to hurt him, and I really did not like this "not a real man" place his mind was going. But at the same time my pussy was proclaiming in no uncertain terms what I wanted. I was positively dripping.

"I do not like you saying you are not a real man. You are all man. It's just this one thing."

He got the significance of that being the only point I was arguing. I was not saying no to taking a lover.

"I understand. But we have to be honest about my problem. If you don't cut me slack on it, maybe it will encourage me to fix it. If not, like I said, you deserve this."

I thought about it. "So nag you?"

"I wouldn't say nag. But remind me of it. And knowing someone else gets you until I do get better will certainly be an incentive."

"Will that not be humiliating?"

And with that question, I learned something new about my husband. Within seconds of my using the word "humiliating" the sheets were tented and popped by a huge erection.

I fix him with a look of irony. "Oh, really?"

He turned bright red. I threw back the covers so I could see his throbbing cock. I straddled him, hovering just above his shaft without mounting it. I'm sure he could feel the heat from my hot, needy pussy. But I was not touching him.

I stared directly at him. "Does my little Preemie want big ol' Mark to fuck me and make me cum, to give me what Preemie cannot?"

I got my answer. "Hnnnnggggkkkk" He made a sort of strangled sound and came all over my pussy and tummy, never having been inside of me.

Good to know. My big strong husband got off on humiliation. I have to admit, it felt powerful. It felt like a little bit of payback for all those times I was left wanting. It aroused me.

I slid up his body and sat the mess on his face. "Eat. Make ME cum, Preemie."

Mark was a co-worker of Tom's who we joked about. Not in a bad way. It was just an open secret between Tom and I...we both knew Mark had wanted me for years but had not acted on it. And like Tom, he was hung like a horse. We could see it through his jeans at social gatherings.

He seemed like a gentleman, always quiet and discreet. But the stolen glances at my body and extra attention made it obvious he wanted me.

While I ground myself against his face, I told Tom to set up a date between me and Mark for the next couple of weeks. I reached back and placed my hand on his flaccid penis. "Tell him I need some 'wood working' advice...I'll do the rest."

The wood reference was not lost on him and soon I felt a powerful wood in my hand. I let go if it lest it go off.

By the time we had reached the date night, I had gained confidence in Tom's desire for being humiliated, and my arousal from humiliating him. Don't get me wrong. I am in love with Tom, I do not want to hurt him. But I cannot deny a part of me finds satisfaction in getting a little payback for all the ruined sexual experiences.

I put on a brave, confident front for Tom to see, but I definitely had reservations about actually cuckolding my loving husband that night.

Until I felt the broad, firm but spongy head of Mark's thick cock stretch me open further than I had ever been.

Until I felt him bottom out inside of me, his big balls pressing against my ass.

Without cumming before he could do so.

When he did not cum, but kept sliding that gloriously hard prick across my G-spot, pulling my clit in with it, over and over and over.

When I experienced my first vaginal orgasm and he still did not cum.

I no longer had any doubts. Tom was right. I deserved this...and I sure as hell was not giving it up now that I had experienced it!

Mark made love to me several times that night. He made me cum so hard, and so often...I wondered if it was a dream.

When he finally did fill me up with his semen, I just had to go share it with Tom. Partly to show him he was right, partly to pick on him.

When I stood in front of him, well used, I kinda knew he would lose it. When he shot cum all over himself, it aroused me. But I could not tell him that. I just told him he was pathetic and made him clean me up. Which aroused the hell out of him.

When that night was over, I told Tom that I wanted him to find a solution for his "problem.". Was it medical? Psychological? Could we find some kind of treatment for it?

After listening to my orgasmic screams with Mark, he assumed I was just being kind. He told me he loved me, and could live with me having a better lover in my life.

How to make him understand?

"Look dumbass. Mark is terrific. And you're right. I am going to keep letting him fuck me until you figure things out."

We were laying in bed. I was laying on my side looking at him.

"Mark stayed hard almost the whole time. He made sure I came and came and came before he did. I never came so hard in my life. He did not jizz himself as soon as he felt my pussy on his dick."

A tear formed below his eye. "I figured."

"Mark did not win my heart at the county fair. Mark did not hold me in his arms for weeks after my dad died because I was completely lost. Mark has not worked nights and weekends for years to build our home, our life. Mark is not the man I want to raise children with. He is a good man, but he is not you, Tom."

I laid my head on his chest.

"I can only imagine how much more intense the feelings Mark gave me last night would be if they were coupled with the love I have for you. Will you learn how to give me that?"

What could he say? With a trembling voice, he said yes.

He was true to his word, but of course nothing like that could happen overnight.

Tom did online research, he went to his primary care doctor who sent him to a specialist, and he worked at it. It became his purpose.

At the same time we both enjoyed our adventures with Mark. Tom admitted to me openly that he got off on being humiliated sexually. Not in general. I mean, the little digs like calling him Preemie were fun for both of us, but I would never abuse him openly in public.

One thing I refused to do was have encounters with Mark without Tom present. Of course the primary purpose of our trysts was my pleasure, as Tom had suggested. However giving Tom incentive and picking on him for both our entertainment was important too. And solo sessions would feel too much like cheating.

Tom began doing Kegel exercises, and working out more. His doctor prescribed some medications that "might" help. And much to my surprise, after my next session with Mark, Tom asked him for advice. Wow, that took courage.

By this time I had decided that I did not want to leave Tom tied up for hours each time Mark made love to me. Note I said each time; sometimes I did. For the times I did not, we had ordered a really nice chastity belt for my hubby. It was very comfy, stainless steel and actually fastened to a waist belt he could not take it off himself. And...after having done my due diligence on the subject...much to his chagrin it was so small that not even the slightest erection was possible.

So there I was, straddling my husband's face on the couch so he could clean my lover's cum out of my snatch, while my lover sat nearby explaining his theories on premature ejaculation to my hubby. While hubby's cock pulsed, making his chastity cage jump.

And every once and awhile Tom would send vibrations into my sex as he attempted to say, "hmmm" or "uh-huh." Now it was my turn to wonder if I was in the Twilight Zone.

I'm not sure I was enamored with Mark's theory.

"Did you have this problem with other girls you were with?"

Tom shook his head in the negative, his face moving pleasantly sideways on my labia.

"Well, maybe it's because you've got Cindy up on a pedestal, bud. Maybe you're so wound up by the time it comes to doing the deed that you lose it because in your head...or heads...she is the be all end all. Maybe you need to dial it back a bit and think of her as just another girl..."

I threw a pillow at him, laughing, "Asshole!"

For my next trick...or teachable moment, I wanted Tom to learn more about Mark's ummm...technique.

I wanted him to see and appreciate how Mark used his penis, sure. But more importantly for me, I wanted him to see how cunnilingus could be sooo much more than just foreplay. I wanted him to learn what I had learned from Mark. That savoring and loving me with his mouth could and should be a relaxed, very lengthy experience we both could enjoy.

To that end, one night Tom found himself tied securely to a wooden chair, his chastity cage locked in place. He was positioned between the bed and the window, facing the bed, and our big screen TV.

I have a small digital camera which is mounted on a velcro strap, usually designed for someone to wear about their head or on a hat, so they can record from their POV.

For this occasion, I secured it to my right thigh, with the camera facing my crotch. I connected it via bluetooth to the big screen TV.

In this way, Tom would not only be taking in the sights, sounds and scents of our love-making, he would also witness close-up Mark's techniques and abilities with his mouth and tongue on my genitalia. In addition to his thick cock servicing me for a long, long time.

This time I did gag my hubby. More as a reminder to him not to speak and interrupt us than anything. When I had gotten online to order a ball gag, I had seen several different types, including several sizes of "penis" gags. The humiliation factor was just too delicious, so Tom's mouth was filled almost to his throat with a silicone cock, which was strapped around his head. The embarrassment in his eyes was great, and it was the closest he would ever get to me making him suck a dick. But he did not know that.

The head of it just barely tickled the entrance to his throat, causing him to reflexively swallow repeatedly. This had the effect of making it appear he was desperately trying to suck the phallus, which gave me great ammo to tease him with. "Wow, you really, really WANT a dick, don't you?? Maybe Mark would be willing to help you out...his tastes really good...you'd like it."

He frantically shook his head in the negative.

When Mark did arrive that night, he and I sat out in the living room sharing a drink for a few minutes. I wanted to build the anticipation for Tom, and it seemed to have worked. He was pensive when we walked in.

It was not easy at first, but I pretended to ignore him as Mark and I undressed each other in front of him. Mark took his time unwrapping his gift, slowly removing my bra and suckling the breasts Tom loves. Sucking hickies on to them that my husband would see for days and be reminded that a "better" man put them there. I'd say it made me wet to think about it, but that ship had sailed already.

It was not so difficult to ignore Tom once we began making love. Mark is so good with his tongue, he knows how to manipulate every part of my sex, hardening or softening his tongue, bathing or lashing my labia or my clit at just the right time.

As I was enjoying his attentions, I glanced up at the big screen to see a close up of his mouth and tongue on my pussy. He was obviously enjoying me and was enthusiastic.

The only point of view I had ever had of cunnilingus was the top of a guy's head.

When I got to watch as Mark sucked my swollen clit past his lips and began darting his tongue across it inside his mouth, I lost it. I came, screaming as the orgasms coursed through my body.

Poor Tom told me later he came too. Inside his cage, once again a ruined orgasm, just cum seeping out of his restrained manhood.

Tom's first real lesson was about to begin. I know he was completely discombobulated as he watched my reactions. As he saw Mark master my body, bringing me to orgasm after orgasm, then how he calmed my senses so he could build me back up and do it all again. How his oral attentions were the purpose themselves and not merely a momentary act on the way to intercourse. Mark ENJOYED eating me for at least an hour.

I was in heaven. I have to admit, I was totally focused on myself, as Mark had told me to do. My only thoughts of Mark were what he may do next for me.

My thoughts of Tom were how his witnessing this aroused me more. And how I wished it was him doing these things to me. I know it seems like a strange contradiction, but it is true. You've been mad at someone you are in love with, right? I was not mad at Tom, but I did take a certain amount of satisfaction from his discomfort because he was NOT giving me what Mark could.

When Mark's broad manhood penetrated me with Tom watching, I began quivering...my entire body shook with need. Because I knew. I knew from experience. I knew that THIS cock was not going to spurt and die. It was only the beginning of an incredible ride.

I had my eyes closed, but forced myself to open them and look up at the TV. The combination of FEELING that big cock open me up, coupled with WATCHING the shaft disappear into my sodden vagina was incredible.

"Ohhhgawwwd....Ohh Marrrrrkkkk...fuck me..."

I heard Tom groan. I did not detect anger, but envy. Was he envious of me? Of Mark? Or of Mark's abilities?

Mark did as I asked for almost two hours. He fucked me missionary, he took me from behind while I faced Tom, watching in hyper-aroused anguish. I rode him cowgirl style and while he sat with me holding him tight.

Mark came at least three times. But each time he remained impaled within me and loved on me until he quickly recovered and resumed fucking me.

Poor Tom. Had it been him making love to me, we would have been finished in seconds.

When Mark was done with me, or more accurately when I was done with him, I kissed him goodnight. Then I released my husband and had him clean my well used snatch. But I never unlocked him. He was a quivering mess. It would have been pointless (for me) to let him attempt to make love to me that night.

I was thrilled two nights later when we did make an attempt, though. Tom had been working hard doing exercises and taking medications.

And he had learned a lot from Mark's example.

Without my insistence, he went down on me, and stayed there for a good long time. He gave me several orgasms. Having watched the close-ups of Mark's tongue work, he practiced doing the same thing, to great effect.

It felt so fucking good receiving that from the man I loved...and it was obvious he was really, really, into it.

I cried out his name, professing my love for him.

"Oh, Tom! Tom, yes! I love you and your tongue!"

In response, he jizzed all over our sheets. Oh well. Baby steps.

For the next six months I had regular very satisfying sessions with Mark. Tom was always present, in fact the three of us went on a few dates together.

During that sixth month, Tom and I were making love. He had just finished an extended helping of what was now his favorite meal...me.

He moved up and penetrated me. I loved the feel of his manhood plowing into my womanhood. Yes, I loved the feel of Mark too, but once again, the emotional connection with Tom made it so much better while it lasted.