An Autobiographical Introduction

Some of you may know me from another popular online message forum that starts with an "R." I was absent for an extended period and lost my own sub-forum over there in the process because it was "unmoderated." I used it more like a diary for my own thoughts and opinions about both the hotpast and cuckolding fetishes. I've received several PMs since returning asking me to post. For my background you can always peruse my post history over there under the same name, but if you'll indulge me I'll summarize here so you don't have to.

I began posting and contributing there, mostly in the hotpast forum, in order to "give back" to the community that had helped me better understand my late husband's questions about my sexual history and what his motivation was for inquiring about it. That's my motivation for writing this autobiographical essay now. I have a very special place in my heart for the men of the cuckolding and hotwife communities.

During our almost two decades of marriage my late husband had never asked any specifics about my sexual past. When we started dating he was still a virgin. He had dated a few girls but it had never progressed to anything sexual. He had never even had a blowjob. I was rather shocked to learn that. I was very much not a virgin. The questions he asked about my past lovers and their "characteristics" confused me. They made me uncomfortable, especially because what little information I would provide caused him to be extremely sexually aroused.

After meeting and falling in love with him, I developed a great deal of shame about my sexual past. It was exactly that - the past. His questions about it brought all of that guilt and shame back to the surface. What possible reason would a man have to ask his own wife how big the largest cock she had ever had? Why did he want to know if I swallowed, whose cum tasted the best, who made me climax the strongest, and were my best climaxes from the largest cocks?

I started searching the web for answers. I was paranoid, and part of me thought he might be gay because of his fixation on the penises of my past. I found the hotpast community and after reading a great deal and corresponding with some of the men on there I became more confident. My research, based on the information my husband would later provide me, led me to the cuckoldpsychology community over there.

Before he passed away, I had revealed everything to him. He eventually confessed that he very much wanted to bring another man into our bedroom and watch me have sex with him. He also indicated that he wished to participate, which once again led me to question his sexual preferences based on "how" he wanted to participate. After even more research and questions I began to understand the motivations and desires of the sexually submissive male, the "beta male" as he once described himself.

Now that I am a widow and he no longer shares this journey with me through life, you may be wondering why I still wish to be a member of that community, why I wish to give back, and why men who have a deep desire to be cuckolded hold a special place in my heart.

I'll elucidate.

My late husband was the love of my life. I loved and adored him. He was the kindest, sweetest, most generous man I've ever known. He loved and adored me in return. He put all of my dreams and aspirations above his own. His love language was expressed in his thoughtfulness, his favors to me, and the way he always looked at me and complimented me. Not a day went by without him telling me that he loved me. I would give everything I have, even shorten my own life span, to have just one more day with him. I believe most of the men who desire to be cuckolded or share their wives, with the same interests and motivations, are probably very much just like him. I will argue that those men are the type of men that women want to wake up next to each morning, to laugh and cry with, and to grow old with.

That's why the community is so very special to me. That's why I have a special affection for the small penis. Not because of the sexual pleasure it can give me (I still prefer a large cock for that) but because of the type of man a small penis is usually attached to.

Yes, my late husband's penis was small. He was just shy of 4 inches and slender in girth. I was familiar enough with it that I could look at a tape measure and tell you its size without measuring it. As part of our foreplay one night we actually did measure it, which aroused him immensely. He had been diagnosed with hypogonadism years earlier which would have been a possible contributor to his diminutive size. All of that said, his size really didn't matter that much to me before all of this came about. While it may have been difficult for me to climax with him during intercourse (I could, but I really had to concentrate and fantasize) he more than made up for with his fingers, mouth, and sex toys.

What aroused my husband most during my sexual revelations were the details about the lover that I had just before him. I was in my early 20's. He was an older man not quite twice my age, a single fireman who lived in my apartment complex at the time. He was over 7 inches long and at more than twice as thick as my husband, as thick as my wrist. Sex with him was arguably the best sex of my entire life, but I would never have considered marrying him. We women have a saying: "The man you had the best sex with is probably in prison." That guy never did anything to deserve to go to prison, but he was a complete asshole.

For many years I resented him, because he treated me so horribly. He was verbally degrading and convinced me to do sexual acts for him and to say things about myself that I would be completely ashamed of if anyone else had heard me say them. Because my reputation was that of a "good girl" he delighted in doing those things to me. I continued to tolerate it and indulge his wishes and demands because of the sex. The sex with him was so, so good. It took many years of reflection and introspection to finally realize that I didn't resent him for what he did. I resented myself because I enjoyed it. He made me feel submissive. No other man had ever done that and it was both intoxicating and addictive to me.

How did I know that the details about my activities with this former lover excited my husband the most? He would prematurely ejaculate when I would reveal new details each time while we were having intercourse, when I would give him a handjob, or between loving licks during fellatio. During one of those sessions when he was extremely aroused was when he confessed that he would have enjoyed watching the two of us together, that he would very much like to see me have sex with another man at some point, and crawl between my legs and lick me clean afterward.

I see so many posts and discussions by men expressing their interest in being cuckolded and asking advice for how to get their wives or girlfriends "in to it." Without any prior understanding and knowledge about this lifestyle, your wives or girlfriends are probably going to have the same thoughts and trepidations that I initially had: "Don't you love me? Why would you want to give me to another man if I am so special to you? How can you not be jealous? Is this because you only want justification to have sex with another woman?"

My husband had to explain it to me, and he did so in a way that made sense. He affirmed his love for me, and just as I had always desired to give him pleasure he wanted to give me pleasure in return, as much pleasure as possible. He said that he and I both knew more about each other than any two people ever could, but there was one thing lacking that he did not know about me. He had never seen me in the throws of complete lust and ecstasy during sex. He had never seen me so overwhelmed with pleasure that the slut inside me, the slut that I always kept hidden from him, took complete control. That slut, my inner slut repressed by me for so long, made me say and do things with my former lover that I would never dream of saying to my husband. I kept my inner slut repressed out of fear of what my husband might think of me afterward.

He was right. I never felt that way during sex with him. Not once. Sex with my former lover was like that almost every single time: carnal, animalistic, uninhibited. With my husband I had to consciously try to climax during intercourse. My former lover could make me climax easily, yet he could read my body's reactions, bring me to the precipice of release, and then deny me of it over and over again. He made me beg him to let me cum. He made me tell him that I was his slut, his whore, his cocksucker, and that he owned my pussy and mouth and could use them for his pleasure whenever and however he liked. I thought I hated all of that, but I loved every minute of it and only denied myself of accepting it.

I've mentioned this in my posts and responses on that other online forum, but he had me read a story here on Literotica called "Three Weeks in Texas" by the author deborahsue. It's 11 pages long and therefore a lengthy read, but it filled in a lot of the gaps for me in a realistic and believable scenario. I'm not promoting it or anything like that, but I highly recommend that story to you, the men who wish to be cuckolded or share their wives. Give that story to the women you wish to "educate" about your feelings and desires regarding this lifestyle.

Sadly, my husband passed away suddenly before we could embark upon our adventure together of bringing another man into our bedroom. After I lost him sex was just about the last thing on my mind. Time heals all wounds, some never completely. I'm 49 as of this writing and in my sexual prime, albeit the later stages. I don't know if I'll ever marry again, nor am I really looking for someone to marry because my husband set the bar pretty high in that regard. In the meantime I'll publish my stories. write about my fantasies, and attempt to "pay back" the beloved cuckolding community by posting responses that I feel might be helpful.

Yes, it grieves me that my late husband was never introduced to my inner slut during the height of "her" sexual ecstasy. It also grieves me that I will never know the look of lust and desire for me on his face while watching a gigantic cock slowly disappear between my soft, pink petals and reach my innermost recesses he never knew or experienced. His passing deprived me of what I can only imagine would have been a toe-curling orgasm, an orgasm induced by the sensations I would have felt as he licked and consumed another man's cum from my freshly fucked, impossibly-stretched pussy.

It would have all been so erotic. So fucking erotic...

What grieves me most of all? Not being able to wake up next to him the morning after another man had fucked me. Not being able to cuddle with him, kiss him, and go down on him and swallow the fresh seed from his morning erection. Not being able to do all of these things while both of us were acutely aware that I was still exhausted from having so many orgasms, that my pussy was aching from being fucked by such a large phallus. and that my womb was still filled with the cum of another man's deep insemination of me.

I wanted my husband to know that it was he that I chose to awaken next to the next morning despite receiving sexual pleasure from another man, experiencing the ecstasy of sex with an extremely large cock, a level of ecstasy that my husband could never possibly give me.

Before you ask, I'm OK now. I am past the period of mourning my loss, and there is no need to express your condolences. My focus is now my own sexual pleasure and sharing my thoughts, fantasies, and desires with all of you.