Cuckold Club: George's Story

That first email was a shocker. It was like, "We know who you are, and we know your wife is cheating on you." I felt like a spy whose cover had been blown. There was only one way to describe my feelings -- absolute, total betrayal. A cuckold club? Who told them I was one of them? My slut wife? They called themselves a support group. Since when do cuckolds have support groups? Talk about ludicrous. Even as I sneered at the concept, I clicked 'Reply' and 'Send.' In less than a minute, I received the time, date, and place of the orientation meeting. It proved to be a very smart move.

My life hasn't changed much -- Sally is still bed-hopping -- but at least knowing I'm not the only man with an unfaithful wife had made it bearable. I went to my first evening meeting two months after the orientations. I guess they keep you away from the night meets to see if you have the guts to stick it out. I heard five speakers that first night. Man, they really opened my eyes. Here I am at my second night group, and I'm talking first.

"Hi, I'm George, and I'm a cuckold."

"Hi, George."

My wife and I manage an apartment complex with two hundred or so units. Generally, she runs the office, and I take care of the maintenance. We got the job right after we graduated from college. We didn't have much money or credit, so when we saw the ad that said free rent, we called immediately. I was very surprised we got the job with no relevant experience. We couldn't afford a deposit on an apartment. The little money we had went for minimum basic furniture like a bed and a breakfast table Our style could be called 'early thrift shop.' Things have improved for us over the past five years. As we acquired newer and better things we gave the old stuff back to the thrift stores.

Sally deserves much of the credit for our early success, although I would have preferred she used a different sales technique. Part of our pay was a commission for each new tenant we rented to. You guessed right. Every time a man came in, she would take him to the furnished sample apartment. I thought it was rather strange she would have to go back to that unit right after she did a showing. The tenant turnover was high enough to keep our commissions above average for the management company as a whole. I suppose I shouldn't complain considering the fiscal benefits I have enjoyed. I'm sorry; I'm getting ahead of myself.

I should tell you a little about us so you can understand how things happened the way they did. We met in college, freshman English if I remember right. We hit it off immediately. By our third date, we were ready to hop into bed. Her parents were less than thrilled when she brought me home for spring break in our sophomore year, but they tolerated our sharing her bedroom. Her mother confided to me later that she and Sally's father had done the same thing when they were in school. Her parents made them use separate rooms. Sally's dad came around when we became engaged in our junior year. We got married when we were seniors. By then it was too late to get married student housing, so we finished school in our dorm rooms.

Sally is a very foxy lady. Her shoulder length light brown hair frames her heart-shaped face. She has high, wide cheek bones, jade green eyes, a natural smile that shows her perfect teeth. Her hourglass figure could turn my grandfather's head; in fact, it has more than once. He once commented he wished he was twenty years older so she wouldn't bother him so much.

I've probably known what's going on for about a year. I work in the office, too, from time to time. We have a pair of walkie-talkies to communicate around the building. She lets me know when she's leaving the office, and I go in to cover until she gets back. Usually she calls me when she is taking a prospective new resident to see the sample apartment. I know how to handle payments, show prospects around, do leases, etc. Many times both of us were doing rentals at the same time.

It was last June, I think, when Sally paged me to cover the office. When I got there a woman in her early twenties was just turning away from the office door. "Can I help you with something?" I asked her.

"I'm looking for the manager," she answered. "I need an apartment."

"My wife and I are the managers," I said. I took her into the office and had her fill out an information card. Her name was Carrie.

She was single, in her mid-twenties, and earned a lot more than Sally and I do. Her attire didn't hide much. Her halter top put a lot of her tits on display, and she had a lot to display. Her skirt covered her ass and not much else. She was every bit as beautiful as Sally. Change hair color and facial features a little bit and they could be twins. "What size apartment are you looking for?" I asked when the card was completed. I had trouble making eye contact with her.

"A one-bedroom will do," she said. "Would it be possible to see one?"

"We have a sample you may see. It won't be the one you would be getting, but it is identical to it."

I opened the apartment door with the master key and let her go in first. I began the tour with the living room because that's the first room we entered. The furnishings were the bare minimum. There was only a sofa, tv, two end tables, and two lamps. "Yours would be unfurnished," I said. Keeping the amount of furniture down helped make the room look spacious. The galley kitchen with the passthrough to the dining area at the end of the living room was next. I suggested she open the cupboards and refrigerator.

When she and I approached the bedroom, I noticed the door was closed, which was not only unusual, but against policy. As I placed my hand on the knob, I heard the sounds of sexual passion coming from inside the bedroom. My ears had to be playing tricks on me, I told myself. No one else could be in the apartment except Sally and her prospect. She hadn't told me which sample she was going to, the one-bedroom or the two-bedroom. There was no reason for the door to be closed or for anyone to be in the bedroom. To be on the safe side, I turned the knob very slowly and eased the door open a couple inches.

Laying on the bed was my beloved wife with her eyes closed, her skirt up around her waist, and some guy's face buried in her pussy. She was kneading her ample breasts through her blouse. My shock must have registered on my face because Carrie was staring at me. I started to pull the door shut, but she put her hand on it and peered into the room. It was her turn to be shocked. "Are you sure we are in the right apartment?" she whispered. I nodded my head. She turned her attention back to the bedroom activities. I tried again to close the door, but she put her shoe into the opening. Involuntarily I looked back too. He was licking Sally's pussy lips going up one side and down the other. Each time his tongue passed her clit, she gasped.

I don't know what I was feeling at that moment or what I should have felt. There was my beautiful wife of five years getting eaten out by a total stranger. I was turned on by the scene. I was in shock. She shouldn't have been laying there like that. If there was to be any sex going on in that room, it should have been with me. She's my wife. She belongs to me. I don't mean like she's my property; I mean.... Damn, I'm still confused. I don't know what I mean. There's the wedding vows, the part of forsaking all others. That's what I mean, or I think so. My dick was growing into a stick. My breathing slowed. She had the most blissful expression. I wondered if that was how she looked when I went down on her. Suddenly she clamped her thighs against his head. That's what she did whenever I sucked on her clit and made her cum. I knew I should dash into the room and rip his head off, but I had enjoyed seeing her climax even if I hadn't given it to her. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard a voice say, "Get her off again." Horrified, I recognized the voice as my own. I didn't care that she was with somebody else. All I cared about was her pleasure.

I felt a hand stroking my hardon through my pants. I looked down and saw it was Carrie's. Her other had grasped my wrist and drew my hand up around her. My hand found its way into her halter and caressed her lush firm breast. The nipple was already rigid. Nature took command. I kissed her neck while watching Sally and her stud through the narrow door opening. My fly seemed to open on its own. My turgid cock found itself free from the confines of my pants. The guy stood up just long enough to pull off his golf shirt and to push his pants and shorts down to his knees before crawling between Sally's open legs. His prick was ready for action. Sally took it in her hands and led it to her opening. I repositioned my hands so I had one of Carrie's tits in each one. Slowly I traced a circle around each of her nipples as his shaft disappeared into Sally's cunt. Seconds later a portion of it reappeared as he began thrusting into her.

Meanwhile, Carrie's hand had me close to shooting my wad. My left hand snaked under the waistband of her skirt into her panties. Her pussy dripped with anticipation of the entry of a hard dick. She had a willing volunteer in her hand. Between Carrie's hand on my meat and watching Sally getting plowed, I was so hot I didn't care if there was such a thing as fidelity. The old joke that men think with their dicks was certainly true at that moment. As the guy's back arched and his balls began to pump his sperm into Sally's womb, Carrie and I dashed for the sofa. She pushed her panties down, and I opened my belt and zipper as we ran. She stretched out as I lowered my pants and shorts to my ankles. Her legs parted and I knelt between them. Guided by her hand, my boner slipped into her wet tunnel with ease. The moment my prick touched bottom, she wrapped her legs around my waist. Immediately we began banging our hips together.

There were no preliminaries, no foreplay, no kissing, just raw hard fucking. We both were so aroused by what we had seen that we needed instant release. Our breathing became a rapid series of short, deep gasps. She climaxed first. My hips didn't stop when her vaginal muscles gripped my rod. The urge to blast off kept my butt moving. Carrie's pussy was tight which supplied the necessary friction, but my orgasm was building slowly. All of my attention was centered on my shaft pistoning her cylinder. I thought I heard a door close, but it was not worth noticing. Faster, faster, faster, harder, harder, harder, my ass moved until, at last, my back arched, and I was completely buried in her. My feet tried to curl inside my work shoes but couldn't. My nut sac pulled up and emptied its contents into Carrie's womb.

Several minutes passed before either of us could breathe normally. My muscles felt like I had just worked out as I stiffly lifted myself off her. "Do you think we can see the bedroom now?" she asked as she sat up. My sticky white cream seeped out of her onto the sofa. I pulled up my pants and held out my hand to help her stand. The bedroom was empty, but the comforter was piled in a heap at the foot of the bed. After a cursory look at the closet, Carrie excused herself to use the bathroom. I was wiping the pecker tracks from the sofa with a paper towel when she came out. "What happened to my panties?" she asked. They should have been lying on the living room carpet, but they were nowhere to be found. "Are you trying to keep them as a souvenir?"

"No," I said, "I have no idea what happened.... Oh, shit!"

"What's the matter?"

"I think I know where they are. What do you think of the apartment?"

"I like it, but I would like to have my underwear back."

"We're going to have to go to the office."

"I don't understaaa.... Ohhh, I get it. Let me see if I've got this right. That was your wife in there?"

I felt my face turn crimson. "Right."

"And she picked them up on her way out."

"Probably."

"That is the sneakiest marketing ploy I've ever seen. In order to get my panties back, I have to sign a lease."

"I didn't know she was in here. Honest."

"But I still have to sign a lease?"

"That's up to you." I described the lease terms emphasizing they did not include my bedroom services.

Sally was finishing the lease with her stud when Carrie and I entered the office. She and the guy exchanged sheepish grins. Her lease took about ten minutes. By the time Carrie left, she had forgotten about her missing underwear.

"That was an interesting sales technique," Sally said when we were alone. "Where did you learn that one?"

"From you!" I shot back. "How long have you been using it?"

"What difference does it make? Are you going to complain about our commission checks?"

The checks were very good. I often wondered how she could have such a good closing percentage, but I never had the nerve to ask. I rarely did any renting because it wasn't my department. I suspected that was about to change.

I stopped. The other men were silent. According to the rules of the group, questions or comments were not allowed. I stayed on the stool for a minute debating with myself whether I should mention we have a couple vacancies.