British Cuckold Marriage

Just so you know, this is completely true. All of it- I shall not exaggerate or embellish. I don't need to, it's my confession and I think a story is rather more compelling if the reader knows that he is eavesdropping on real facts and secrets involving real existent people rather than an imaginary tale or just an exiting fantasy.

It's no less interesting or intriguing than a work of fiction - perhaps more so, but that's for the reader to judge. Indeed it is for the reader to judge whether I'm telling the truth about it all. Actually though -I am.

She's an attractive woman, the sort of woman who attracts on many levels, and she knows it. Well spoken and entertaining is what you'd say - arousing is what you'd think. She knows that and she'd take total control of you with a little subliminal glance. She doesn't need to speak to men to make them do what she wants.

Enough narrative. I'll stick to the facts. When we were first married I thought we were happy. I certainly was but I noticed that men would look at her and I saw those knowing little glances she'd respond with.

She'd often follow up with an altogether different glance at me and a kind of smug smile which I didn't understand but made me feel second rate. She'd In company sometimes this thing of letting her skirt ride up a bit whilst pretending to look at a menu or something then, suddenly turning her head to catch a man staring at her legs. She'd fix her eyes with him and there'd be a palpable excitement in the air for a split second as they exchanged that glance.

She'd flirt with men but not enough to be conclusive and if I mentioned it she'd fly into a rage, making me feel like some kind of jealous obsessive.

During sex she'd say stuff, not exactly insulting, but subtlety demeaning me. For example she'd innocently 'wonder' how big the average penis was or reassure me that I satisfied her sexually even though I didn't ask. When I asked her fantasy she'd say something like 'a really big dick'.

My friends would call round to visit, especially one of them but it never occurred to me that there was anything suspicious there. Somehow though, and I'm SURE she was feeding this, I began to fantasise about the thought of her having affairs and started telling her this while we were having sex. She joined in and that got to be the 'dirty talk' during sex. The clever thing is the way she'd express her disgust about this sort of talk afterwards and say she felt ashamed of herself for humouring my filthy fantasies.

I loved it, but I NEVER thought she'd actually do anything like that, even when I put my fingers inside her sometimes and she seemed somehow enlarged inside, or when I was supposed to be in work one night and my best friend called by at 11pm 'because he was passing'.

I put her on a pedestal I think, a moral and intelligent beauty who would never consider acting out such base urges or had any urges outside our special relationship.

Moving on some years, our mutual fantasies had continued and developed. Kids and real life took its toll on the excitement of the marriage, and we settled into normal life.

Then, one night this same friend was visiting and I suppose we all got a bit drunk. Eventually we left him to sleep on the sofa and went up to bed where we had a bit of a row during which I accused her of flirting.

As I was falling asleep I remember saying 'why don't you go downstairs and actually get fucked by your boyfriend!'

I suppose I meant to make her feel bad about herself, and in my mind I'd won that argument with what had been intended as a hurtful remark.

The nuke came when she woke me up two hours later and said "I've done it"..."what?"......What the fuck was she talking about and why was she sitting on the edge of the bed?

"I've done what you wanted. ...I slept with your friend!"

That was the hammer blow. The last thing I expected and yet my world was shattered and changed forever.

I must cover the events which immediately followed, shameful as they are from my point of view.

I had a thousand thoughts, questions and horrors whirling in my mind, but all could say for myself was "Did he wear a condom?"

This seemed to annoy her somehow because she looked at me with total contempt and said, "Since you ask, he didn't actually."

This cut me even deeper and, hoping I suppose for some other answer, even if it was distressing to me, I asked, "Where did he come?"

She looked as if that was a stupid question and said "He came inside me."

I can explain my reaction by psychology with hindsight, but there and then it was entirely instinctual and shamefully base.

I opened her legs, knelt between them and explored her wet stretched vagina, her ginger pubic hair soaked and stuck into small peaks by another man's sperm as the excess dribbled gradually out of her.

You'd think she'd have objected or resisted this out of embarrassment or shame. I've often pondered on that. What she did was to open her legs fully and sit there as I probed and started lapping at her like a dog, tasting his semen, ( which there was still a lot of), mixed with that slightly acidic taste which is present when a woman has a real orgasm, and sucking it from her as if by removing the evidence,I would somehow erase the act itself and perhaps as some form of retrospective contraception. She acted as if this was the most natural thing in the world to her sitting there like a Queen, now fully defiant of any restriction on who she allowed the privilege of her beautiful body and in which way she did that. In my case that night,the privilege she allowed me was merely that of demonstrating my subservience to that body and to whoever she chose over me to penetrate and possibly impregnate her.

She looked down at me with a triumphant contempt and in that moment the dynamic of our marriage changed forever.

This was what she'd always wanted and I later knew that she'd taken a huge calculated risk to achieve it. As she often says, a real man would have reacted angrily and probably thrown her out on the spot, but she was right in predicting that I would choose the role of a submissive humiliated servant rather than be discarded and sent away from her presence. She knew I'd be her dog rather than let someone else have her.

When I'd finished my frantic act of submission she lay back and said,

"Come on then, you can have me now. Do you want that knowing what I've done tonight?"

I was too ashamed to answer her in words but I stood up with possibly the hardest erection I'd ever had and as she opened her legs she smirked smugly into my face. We both knew this was my act of complete fealty to her and I didn't care.

It's not an exaggeration to say that I fucked her so hard and so many times and came so many times that as the sun came through the curtains I was drained of everything.

She had spoken to me through it, telling me that he was a bit bigger and better at sex than me, but I should try and make the difference up with a bit more effort. Her confidence and dominance grew as mine shrunk and she actually laughed at me once or twice.

My intention has been to tell our full story here, but after so many words I shall try the patience of the reader and the website. There is MUCH more to tell about the various shocking events in the years to follow, so perhaps I should break off here having explained how it all started, and if there's any interest I'll tell you more. There is a lot more to tell, and it's all true. What's more all the characters are real people, which is why I haven't named anyone and we are all still doing things like this on a regular basis.

In fact, as I write this my wife is staying overnight in a hotel with one of the younger men she is seeing at the moment.........but that, as they say, is another story!