How I First Became a Cuckold

So it occurred to me I started my fantasies here with an essay on cuckolding, and I should probably chime in on a personal level on the topic as well. So upfront and in the title and first paragraph this is a fair warning. This is a cuckold story of how my wife, the mother of my child, gave in to her slutty nature and fucked another guy both behind my back and right in front of me as I stroked my own smaller cock. He came in her too, and no, I didn't lick her out. I'm not that twisted for God' sake.

I wasn't going to write about myself when I started and it didn't actually go down this precise way but I did spend several years married to a hot wife. In spite of my personal fetish, I, like most husbands, would never have actually dared to do more than fantasise if Jen hadn't decided to submit to out hung neighbour. She'd grown bored of married life and wanted to indulge her own submissive fetishes, using my own as her excuse to take new cocks. We ended up having a number of adventures over the years, but this is the story of how it all began.

Now I must admit I had long harboured the fetish of sharing my girlfriend or wife, and once Jen got wind of it she went with the idea whenever she got especially horny. It became a relief valve for her, but she was a busy high school principal and had to protect her public image in our small city, so she was often too stressed to do more than grind her pussy against my face for hours on our shared bed. I fucked her afterwards, coming deep in her, if she wasn't too tired after I had licked her to orgasm. Still she had a slutty past, and looking back it was inevitable she'd want to explore this side of her own kinks.

"So you want to share me?" she purred, cuddling up to my back, reaching over to stroke my cock, trying to get it hard again the night I'd confessed to liking the idea of sharing her with an endowed lover. "You want to watch while a guy with a big cock fucks my brains out?"

Jen rubbed her pussy as she told me about how we could find a bull on the internet. She'd clearly given the idea some careful thought, and was not against it at all, unlike my first wife.

Now I knew she was a slut when I married her, but she had that classic over educated white girl mentality that she should be open to anything. In truth she was, and still is, a slutty submissive, and just used Foucault as a literary excuse to let men use her. She was an unabashed size queen who liked to be dominated. She enjoyed getting slapped with a meaty cock and would let the biggest guys jam as much of their cocks into her throat as they could. She didn't even mind gagging, something about having an extra large cock in her hands and mouth turned her on and led her to do yet more depraved acts.

One former boyfriend had, on their first date no less, after several drinks at a local bar, walked her to a local park across the street and found a deserted bench. He'd quickly talked her into dropping her panties, first rolling them down to her mid thigh while he fingered her in the dim light and then off entirely so she could spread her legs. This being NYC people still scurried by and Jen was never one to cum quietly when drunk.

Jen said the semi public nature of being first fingered, then fucked on a city bench just off a still busy footpath with the building and street lights only filtered by the trees surrounding them turned her on immensely and she didn't object when her date lifted her up and sat her back down after he'd unzipped and hauled out his meaty cock. She said he muffled her cries with his hands wrapped around her mouth and throat as he fucked her hard and fast from underneath. She didn't want him to fuck her bareback or come in her but she couldn't do more then grunt under his vigorous pummelling of her cunt. He came in her and never called her again, a not uncommon refrain.

In truth it was not hard to get laid in NYC before the housing crash, in the early 2000s. Guys could afford to be picky. Jen was pretty but not movie star gorgeous, and unlike me, many guys saw through her and ran once they'd dumped their loads once or several times.

Jen had the classic Scottish glow in the dark white skin that many American black guys find hot, along with light brown hair long enough to easily grasp. She had small breasts, but enough to fill a palm, and she had those faint pink areolas surrounding the barest nubs of a nipple in their generous centers. Her pussy was likewise a light pink flushing yet deeper when she was aroused, and she kept a thick natural bush above her delicate pussy lips. She had an unusually large ass and her devotion to yoga kept her waist tight, making the flare of her large and firm cheeks all the more noticeable. She wasn't that tall and although she did have bright blue eyes it was inevitably her backside that drew the most ribald remarks from guys on the street. She almost stopped wearing skirts after one guy was so bold as to put his whole hand up her dress from behind and cup her entire mound, caressing first her bush and then her slit with his fingers.

She yelped and jumped straight up, and turned and glared at him but that was all. She confessed she had intended to tell him off with her best feminist rant but her pussy was suddenly so hot and flushed from his unexpected grope, that she ran to the nearest bathrooms in the next cafe, locking herself in the stall and sobbing, shaking, and cumming all at the same time.

She didn't know what had just happened, or rather she knew she had just been attacked and practically fingered on a NYC street and it had made her come harder than she ever had before. Like everyone in the city Jen had a busy and complex life with no time for romance or dating. She'd had her string of one night stands like most, but only a few stood out and none had made her cum as hard as this sudden assault.

The nearest was the Nigerian musician, a Yoruba with a cock as thick and long as her arm, she swore. He'd jammed that log of a cock down her throat in his car, parked on a city street. He'd fucked her bareback too. He'd finally returned to his own wife, but he had used her for months first, exploring her desire to submit to his whims. She had quite a few stories about him I heard over the years, often stroking myself to orgasm beside her as she gave me the details.

That also was a theme in many of Jen's bedtime stories about her exes, that they somehow knew they could fuck her without protection. Men liked to claim her in the species's ultimate gesture of ownership, shooting their loads into her womb. She felt conflicted, used and disrespected when they came in her without asking permission, but it was the only part of coital sex that made her cum: regardless how large the guy was, she needed that feeling of utter helplessness. Her pussy spasmed in pleasure as she indulged in the most basic submission a woman could make to a more powerful male, accepting his sperm, her legs spread for his pleasure. The thought of this complete contradiction from the strong modern feminist she saw herself to be and the helpless slut used to for a man's cum made her quiver and shudder in delight and made her cum every time.

There was something about Jen's girl next store good looks, her whimsical smile, the sweatshirts and sweaters that jiggled suddenly when she forgot to wear her bra, or her open blue eyes that seemed shocked, even as she was obediently kneeling to suck a strange cock. She mastered the art of pretending she was just allowing the man to take the lead as he led her down the exact path of giving him what she wanted.

I don't want to make too much of her being a complete submissive slut, because most weeks she lived the normal harried New Yorker existence, rushing to and from work, getting drinks with friends, getting home too late for enough sleep before the next day dawned. But every once in a while a guy would catch her in the right mood and be bold enough to bend her to his wishes. She figured these short interludes of depravity relaxed some of the city's stresses and, well, NYC is a stressful place.

Now how Jen and I met and how we got married are stories for another time. We'd bonded in part because I loved the idea in theory of watching her take on another man in my presence and because she wanted a more stable life, with a trustworthy partner to return to after she scratched her own sexual itches.

The time I want to talk about occurred when we were married for a few years and having the usual Saturday morning sex, both tired from the week. Jen was giving me some desultory head to stiffen my cock when I looked up and saw my neighbour Chad gazing back at me from the side yard, stroking his jeans.

I should back up and set the stage here before we get back to Chad and how he soon forcibly introduced us to wife sharing.

Jen and I had moved upstate to Dutchess County, to the outskirts of a small town named Redhook. We were in that stage of life where getting ahead in our careers was taking a backseat to starting a family. We'd moved into this newly built subdivision with an officious HOA, something the previous owner had forgotten to mention.

We got along well enough with our neighbours, but Chad, the head of the HOA, was a passive aggressive asshole and we'd butted heads a few times on the topic of his dogs shitting on our lawn. The usual suburban white people problems, bills, neighbours trying to tell you what kind of tree you can plant in your front yard, or what your mailbox has to look like, that sort of annoying minor shit.

Chad had promised he'd be better about his dog shitting in our yard although he was pretty pissed off about it at the HOA meeting. Still he'd pulled similar bullshit on everyone else for minor issues like trash cans being left out too long or too many cars parked in the street, so people were happy to see him taken down a notch. Hence Saturday morning he'd wandered over to our property and was ostensibly picking up dog shit.

What he was really doing was getting a picture perfect view of Jen's married pussy, as she leaned on her elbows her head bobbing on my now rock hard cock as I stood beside the bed. Jen had her huge white ass up, with her knees spread comfortably wide, her pale white thighs glowing pink around her flushed and swollen pussy lips.

"Chad's watching us," I blurted, surprised and shocked but also inexplicably hard, suddenly forcing more of my six inches into Jen's mouth as I continued, "He's stroking it too."

"Umm, Tonya next door said he's hung." Jen pushed back, her hands bracing on my thighs and looked up at me, suddenly intrigued, "Do you like watching him stroke his cock?"

"I can't see," I admitted, "he's still got it in his pants, just rubbing his jeans."

Jen returned to sucking my cock, giving it more effort, slurping and rubbing her tongue up and down my shaft, gazing soulfully into my eyes as she slid her soft red lips back and forth. I noticed she was also tilting her ass upward so Chad could see her dripping and engorged pussy, rolling her ass in circles, teasing him as her lips parted to show her glistening entrance. Jen reached back and fondled herself, parting her pussy and fingering herself. I groaned, almost ready to cum in her mouth, something Jen never allowed, but was too absorbed at the moment to notice. I closed my eyes in bliss leaning my head back.

When I opened my eyes, on the verge of shooting my load, I noticed Chad was no longer in the window. I heard a creak and turning around, my jaw dropped in shock, awe, and horror. Chad was only a few feet away, having apparently let himself in through our unlocked front door.

I was already reaching for the shotgun leaning against the wall by the head of the bed when Jen stopped me, firmly gripping my forearm as she hissed, "Let him finish."

I looked around and followed her gaze to Chad's midriff, where a giant whale of a white cock was throbbing, half above his hand and half below, where an equally obscenely large pair of balls gently rose and fell with his stroking.

I'm a pretty tall guy but Chad was nearly two full meters and rangy with lean muscle. He had big hands and they still barely enclosed his prick. His cock head flared wide and glowed wetly with streaks of pre cum drooling freely down his shaft. I don't want to get into debates about how large is too large to be believable, but he was both thick and long, I've seen a few cocks in locker rooms over the years and Taylor dwarfed anything I ever seen. He really was porn star hung, or so it seemed in the shock of the moment.

Chad pushed right by me and without a word spun Jen around and sank his massive log into her sopping slit. Jen squealed in glee, not even pretending to be surprised or resist. She began to grunt as he filled her balls deep with hard and rapid strokes, pulling almost clear before slamming home again and again. They continued to fuck right in front of me, wrapped up in their own considerable pleasures, until Jen flipped over to her back and looking me straight in the eyes confessed:

"This isn't the first time honey, Chad's been fucking me for weeks. He's fucked every part of me, my mouth, my tits, my pussy, even my ass. That's right honey, everything. I've made you a cuckold, just like you wanted," she finished, spreading her legs wider and then wrapping them around Chad's waist, urging him to go deeper, to cum in her.

She laughed cruelly and gazed adoringly up at Chad still thrusting his cock in my wife's pussy, although he'd slowed to gentle strokes so he could hear Jen mock me.

"I know you love it." She said, "Your cock is about to cum just watching Chad stretch my pussy. He's going to cum in me too, as much as he wants, whenever he wants."

I'm ashamed to say it, but the sight of a big guy with an enormous cock fucking my my wife, combined with her confessing how she loved him cumming in her gave me the longest hardest orgasm I've ever had.

I staggered forward and grabbed Jen, forcing her to her knees beside the bed, pulling her off Chad's cock. Taking a clump of her hair I yanked her face towards my throbbing cock just as I came. Spurt after spurt shot across my wife's shocked face, glueing her eyelids shut and pearling on her tongue. I made sure to get some in her hair too, marking her face as my own.

Chad slapped me on the back. "That's the way to do it. Put her in her place." He seemed genuinely cheerful on my behalf.

"Me, I'm going to fuck your wife in the ass for being such a bitch." He flipped Jen around so she was bent over the bed, her ass in the air and exposed to his hard cock.

"Make her squeal," I said fake casually, still processing the whole bizarre realisation my wife had been cuckolding me with a guy I didn't even like.

"I'm going to get a beer." The age old refuge of the modern man: a cold beer and time to ponder the ways of the world as I drank it.

"Oh, I will," chuckled Chad and seconds later I heard pleading and cries of anguish as he forced his huge cock up her tightest hole. I left them to it and went to gather my thoughts.

Now we did straighten things out eventually. I knew Jen was a slut when I married her and Chad shared his wife, a dark haired Mediterranean beauty from Spain, with large pear shaped breasts and huge dark nipples that stood out almost an inch. She had a thick black bush and loved being eaten out. So it all worked out in the end, but that's a tale for another day.