Cuckquean Experience

"Open your heart to love but protect the love you already have" - Random Fortune Cookie

My name's John and I love Cuck stories. But not the more popular Cuckold stories. Nope. My personal kink is Cuckquean stories. If you're not familiar, I don't blame you. I didn't know the term until about five years ago But I'd always loved the idea. Maybe it's the stories of genies and harems when I was a kid. Maybe it's just biological. I don't know. I just always liked the idea of having a bevy of beautiful, willing women.

The thing that really kicked my secret kink into high gear, however, was my wife's poor health and the way she chose to cope with it. Or, more particularly, the way she encouraged me to cope with it. My wife is the love of my life. I have been the doting husband to her and our two children for the better part of two decades. And while I always had these thoughts of other women in the back of my head, I never once acted on them. Unfortunately, as my wife's health deteriorated, she started carrying all the guilt of our waning sex life on her shoulders. After a year of having sex once a month (at best), she came to a realization.

"John, I think something needs to change with us," she said quietly to me one night out of the blue. We were lying in bed, in the dark, watching her favorite show and trying to take her mind from the pain.

"Why? What?" I asked with uncertainty.

"I... I know you have... you know... needs."

I looked at her, "Helen, I don't..."

"Don't do that, John. I know this is hell for you."

I laughed, "It's not... really, it's not. It's not ideal but you have it way worse than I do."

"I know... I'm not saying I don't. I just don't want to be carrying this burden of ALSO making you unhappy."

"You don't. I promise," I said and kissed her forehead softly. She snuggled into my arms, grunting with the exertion of moving.

"You need to find some happiness," she whispered.

"Helen... I'm not leaving you. Ever."

"I'm not telling you to, idiot. Maybe just... you know... find someone to help you relieve a little stress."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I couldn't help it though, the thought of what my wife might be hinting at was causing my cock to stir.

"Maybe... you know... find a girlfriend... a friend with benefits... or friends even. Just come home to me and maybe tell me about it afterwards?"

"Open my heart to love but protect you too?" I asked.

"Exactly," she said.

"I... I don't think I could do that," I told her.

She looked at me, a little tear in her eye, "I think you can but I understand why you think differently. Just know that if you want, it's okay. And think about it my love." She closed her eyes, tired from the days effort, and drifted off to sleep leaving me to think about what she'd just said. I tried to put the idea out of my mind but it just kept worming its way deeper and deeper into my brain.

The week passed by and we didn't talk again about it. One week turned into two and then a month. The conversation was mostly forgotten. Meanwhile, I was was trying to finish my first novel. It was an undertaking I'd started when Helen's health had first started to deteriorate. A hobby to help pass the time for myself. Now I was experiencing awful writer's block. I just couldn't get the ending to come together and it was leaving me incredibly frustrated (not good for a hobby that was supposed to distract from my other frustrations). I looked around for writing forums on reddit and stumbled across r/dirtypenpals. It wasn't exactly what I was looking for but, as it turned out, it was exactly what I needed. People post erotic writing prompts and you collaborate with someone to tell a story. Some of the interactions were purely platonic (despite the inherent sexiness of the endeavor) but some interactions turned into actual relationships.

My first serious one was with a girl named Constance. She was an Asian girl from Toronto who had a real fetish for Overwatch erotica. Violent Overwatch erotica. I liked her but she had... issues. The scenes she wanted me to write were... I think 'extreme' might be to gentle a word. I have no problem going dark with my fantasies but not that dark. It put me in this really weird mental place with her. When we weren't talking about sex or writing the extended Overwatch novella that we were collaborating on, she was really cool and intelligent. I liked her a lot. When she ghosted me for a week (as it turned out, she was being stalked IRL by somebody and thought it was me) I was devastated. I realized that our flirting and sexy talk had built an actual emotional attachment. The whole thing had grown slowly and I hadn't even realized what was happening. It was my first warning sign about this lifestyle and what it might entail emotionally.

I talked to Helen about it in the week when Constance disappeared.

"So I did something dumb," I told her.

"What?" she asked.

"I... I started talking to someone... online," I said, not sure how to tell the story.

"A girl?" she asked.

I nodded, ashamed of what I perceived to be my own weakness. Helen saw it differently. She rolled over on her elbow, wincing only slightly but a twinkle in her eye spoke of another emotion. Intrigue. "Tell me..." she said with desperation.

"I... I... we just started trading stories... well, basically making an erotic fanfic story."

"What about?"

"Uhmm... that shooter of Blizzard's," I said. Helen nodded and I continued, "She... she likes some pretty extreme stuff," I told her.

"Like what?" Helen asked.

I didn't want to share all of it. It just felt like too much. But I gave her the brief outline. "Women being tied up... spanked... smacked."

Helen rolled onto her back and slid a hand into her panties. "And you guys tell each other the story?"

"Sometimes it's mostly me telling it," I said as I watched my wife finger herself slowly. The pain she was in usually kept her from getting turned on but if she was ABLE to get turned on, she could push past it, at least for awhile.

"Do you just tell the stories? Or... or do you talk to her?"

"We talk a lot too... we're kind of friends."

"What does she look like?"

"I don't really know. She's half-asian and 24."

"Does she live close by?" Helen asked, "Do you want to meet her?"

"Seriously, Helen?"

"Yessss," she said.

"Yes, I want to meet her. No she doesn't live close by. Other side of the continent actually. Toronto."

"What do you talk about?"

"All kinds of stuff. Computer games. Politics."

"Sex? With each other?"

I paused, "Sometimes." My voice was quiet, still unsure of where this was going. My wife's back arched as she continued to play with herself. I reached over and stroked her impossibly hard nipple, grazing it through her thin t-shirt. She shuddered and moaned with arousal. "She calls me, Master," I said into Helen's ear. That did it for her. She came so hard she couldn't keep quiet. I had to clamp my hand over her mouth to keep from waking the kids. Her whole body shook as she screamed into my palm.

When she finally calmed down, she looked at me and spread her legs lewdly. "Fuck me... Master." My wife had never called me that before. I'd never thought to ask. I thought I'd liked it when Constance called me that in text chats, but to hear my wife say it out loud? Let's just say my cock had never been harder. I rolled over on top of her and within moments we were fucking harder than we ever had before. I was pounding her and she was moaning into my ear, "Fuck me, Master. Fuck her, Master. Fuck your little fucking Asian fuck toy, Master. Do it. Do me. Do anyone you want, Master." We both came hard and I collapsed on top of her as she showered my neck, cheek and shoulder with kisses.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," she whispered as she wrapped her legs around me.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

She nodded, tears coming out of her eyes but smiling, "It hurt a little. I'll probably pay for that tomorrow but it was worth it, lover. That was so good. I needed that." She looked at me through tired eyes, "You needed that."

When Constance showed back up online, I was relieved. She told me about her stalker and her fear that it was me. She had texted me minutes after the police told her they'd arrested him. She needed to know. I was very happy and we started things back up right where we left off. When I told me wife, she was also ecstatic and this time, instead of keeping it a secret, I told my wife everything. I rounded off some of the rougher edges of the story. Some of the violence that Constance pushed towards, I left out. Which was just as well because my wife didn't care about the fanfic at all. She wanted to know about Constance and I. She pushed me to push Constance. To build a relationship. It became her obsession. Constance was understandably concerned about sending pictures but Helen suggested that I ask for an audio. Constance agreed. She was going to edge herself nightly for a month and then send me an audio of her first orgasm after 30 days of denial. My wife loved the idea. I loved the idea. Constance seemed to like the idea.

And then, the night of her birthday. The night she was finally going to have that orgasm, she ghosted me for good. Funnily enough, the second time didn't hurt as bad as the first. I'd come to grips with the emotional attachment I'd let myself have and had guarded against it. I didn't want to get like that with a stranger from the internet. My wife, on the other hand, was devastated. We'd been having sex two or three times a week thanks to the sexting Constance and I had been having. Considering that once a month had been the high water mark for the last couple of years, that volume had been amazing. Helen (and probably myself) hadn't been this happy in a long time. We'd made plans to listen to the audio together. We'd sent the kids to my parents house. Instead, we were left empty handed and sad.

Helen was upset at first. Angry and sad. However, she redoubled her efforts.

"This works, John. Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me our sex life has ever been better than this? Even before I was sick," she said. There was a fire in her eyes. Not anger. Determination.

"It has been amazing, but I don't know that we should continue," I said.

She walked up to me, "No... we should do more. You should find more little sluts to mind fuck online," she said. Her voice was sultry and deep as she whispered into my ear. "Make them call you, Master. Bend them to your will. And then bring them home to fuck them for real."

"Are you serious?" I asked. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was my own personal fantasy come to life. As I'd read more about Cuckqueans, I realized that there were really two major types. There were the ones that got off on being treated as inferior women and wanted their husbands to fuck "superior" women. Some of those stories were hot but I didn't want to treat my wife like she was crap. I loved her. I much preferred the stories where the wife was a willing participant. Where she actively encouraged her husband. Sometimes even going out on dates and picking out women for her man. If there was a pathetic female in the relationship it had better not be my wife!

So with Helen's encouragement, I went back online to find other girls. There were a couple that I found, but the relationships were fleeting and often unsatisfying. There was the British girl who loved golden showers (not my thing). There was the housewife that had the two most disparate fetishes I've ever seen. She liked demon porn and she liked erotica about being fucked by her son's bully. I met another Asian girl who wanted to steal me away from my wife and pay for penis enlargement surgery (is that even a thing??) to give me a foot long cock that she and her friends could be an endless supplies of pussy for. I'm telling you guys, people online are WEIRD!

My wife enjoyed all of it but only in so far as I did. If I came to bed after a mediocre encounter, she just couldn't get into it. It's when I came to bed obviously hot and bothered that we had crazy, often mind-blowing sex. Through it all, I made sure to keep that guard up. Helen never asked but I'd made it a personal rule. No attachments.

That continued for almost half a year. That's when I met Lily. She was... a revelation. She was perfect. She was a middle school math teacher in Chicago. 27 years old. She didn't come online to tell stories. She came to find a Dom. She came to find someone to teach her. Train her. Mold her. She was a perfect fit for me and we clicked instantly. When I told my wife about her, she also sensed that this one was different. We fucked for nearly an hour after my first time playing with Lily. As Helen laying in bed, gasping from her third orgasm while my cum leaked out of her she looked at me and asked, "You like this girl?"

I nodded, "She seems pretty cool and she hits all my kinks, I think."

"Then make sure you keep her around for awhile. Especially if you're going to fuck me like that after."

I didn't need that suggestion. Lily inflamed me. Truthfully, even more than my wife at times. I felt a need for her that I hadn't felt in a long time. The kind of lust that comes from someone who pushes all of your buttons perfectly. Who says exactly the right things at exactly the right moments. I talked to Lily almost every night. Sometimes life got in the way and we couldn't play but most nights we did something kinky and fun. She sent me an audio of her orgasming within the first couple weeks. She sent me pictures (face hidden... smart girl) soon after. She was incredibly cute with a perfectly spankable ass. Now that I had a picture for the words and the voice, I knew I really wanted her.

"I imagine flying into your city. You've told me what to wear. What would you make me wear, Master?"

"A short, loose dress. No underwear."

"None, Master?"

"Stupid little cumsluts don't get underwear, baby."

"You're right, Master."

"I'd meet you at the airport. I'd know you instantly from the collar you'd be wearing."

"A collar, Master? With a little dress... what will people think?"

"Probably that you're a slut," I replied simply.

"Is that what you want? For them to think I'm a slut?"

"Yes. MY slut."

"Yes, Master. Your slut. Always."

"I'd walk up to you and whisper your name."

She replied, "I don't think I'd be able to talk, Master. I'd be too nervous."

"Would we be just John and Lily, slut? Or would we be Master and kitten?" Kitten was the only thing she liked that I thought was a little odd. She wasn't into actual petplay (thank God) but really liked it when I called her Kitten in moments of sweetness. Of course, she also liked to be called a dumb bimbo bitch so there was plenty of variety.

"Whatever you want... Master," she typed back. I remember my hands trembling at seeing those words on the screen. My cock was rock hard and I was stroking it.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes, Master."

"Is that the truth or just fantasy, Lily?"

"100% the truth, Master. Anytime. Anywhere."

I came hard, shocking myself with the suddenness and forcefulness of the orgasm. We talked more before I was hard again and went back to bed to fuck my wife. Lily understood where she stood. She understood that Helen was my priority. Lily even got off on it a little. She'd played with other married guys before. She'd always been concerned about it. About being the "other woman". She distanced herself from the idea because she didn't know the people but that meant she couldn't let it be real. Because Helen knew everything and not only approved but encouraged it, it allowed both of us to let our guard down. To say we fell hard for each other would be a dramatic understatement.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" I asked my wife one night after another round of crazy sex.

"Of course, Master," she said. That was the other thing that had happened thanks to Lily. She helped me fully understand what my own kinks were. Lily was a completely blank slate, turned on by her partner's arousal. I could explore whatever I wanted with her and find what I liked. Then I went back to Helen and shared. It turned out, almost everything that I liked, Helen also got off on. Not 100% but pretty close. Somehow having this stranger on the internet to share intimacies with had raised the intimacy between my wife and I ten fold.

"Up to now, it's only been online... fantasy."

"You've fucked her in your mind thousands of times, Master. Haven't you," Helen asked while stroking my cock.

"Yes," I gasped.

"But you've never gotten your cock sucked by that whore?" she said as she leaned forward and took my cock deep into her mouth.

"No," I said, enjoying the sensation. My wife had worked really hard to be able to deep throat me and it was something she was rightfully proud of. She smiled at me then slung her leg over me. The funny thing about Helen was that, once she got turned on, her pain threshold was through the roof. I'd known it for years as we played with her nipples or I spanked her. There were times when she was so aroused that you almost couldn't pinch her nipples hard enough. That same variable pain threshold worked to our benefit thanks to our new online friend.

"You've never slid into her nice, tight, bald pussy have you?" she asked as she sank down on me with her own smooth cunt.

"No," I moaned out as she wiggled her hips.

"I want you to, John. I need you to. Fuck her. Use her. Do all the nasty things to her you want then come home and tell me about it."

"What if I want to bring her home?"

Helen's eyes rolled as she shifted her hips and squeezed me, "Then you should do it?"

"What if I want to watch her eat your cunt while I fuck her from behind."

Helen's eyes looked at me lustily. Helen didn't have a bisexual bone in her body. She knew I knew that. "Then do it. Make her do it and my cunt will gush, Master. I want to see you... dominate her."

I rammed my hips up, filling my wife with cum as she collapsed down on me, "I didn't cum, Master," she said.

"Good girl," I told her. That was another thing that I'd discovered I loved. Orgasm denial. It was the one thing that Helen liked that Lily didn't. Lily was a needy, greedy little slut. She could go a couple days without an orgasm but she got cranky after much longer than that. She'd do it, but she didn't enjoy it. She liked the kink. The momentary denial. The teasing and making her earn it. But ultimately she did want to earn it.

Helen, on the other hand, reveled in being deprived of orgasms. At first, she'd gone a week without one. Then a month. I teased her about only giving her one orgasm a year. She loved the idea. She said it made her feel so wonderfully submissive to me. Like she existed purely for my pleasure.

Despite everyone being on the same page, real life makes these things hard to work out. Especially from halfway across the country. Sometimes, however, fate intervenes.

"Master, I'll be offline for a week soon. I'm going to visit my friend in San Diego," Lily told me one night.

"Really? San Diego?" I said. My heart quickened. I'd never told Lily where I lived other than "somewhere in California". "When?"

"Week after next, Master."

"So you're just flying in and catching an Uber or something?"

"Yes, Master."

Interesting, I thought. I briefly considered waiting at the airport for her and surprising her. Despite all of our communications, I really didn't want to be a stalker though. Besides, there were practical considerations to take into account like maybe her friend showing up to pick her up.

"Slut... I live in San Diego," I said.

Immediately, the message app pinged with a request to chat. Normally, we just texted. It was a lot safer with kids in the house. I picked up the call and put the phone to my ear.