Loving a Cuck

This is a story that begins sadly, but that's often the case with true stories. The story doesn't end sadly, because after a time it becomes a wish-fulfillment fiction. I leave it to you, readers, to decide where wish-fulfillment fiction takes over the narrative. Enjoy! And please, sympathize with every man who has found himself in David's sad predicament. And Lily's

At my doctor's office. Annual checkup. Doctor went over the blood and urine test results with me, which is the beginning of my horror story.

"Everything looks good," she declared, "except you have an abnormally really high PSA reading, which means we need to investigate your prostate gland. You're very young to be in this situation. I'm going to refer you to a Urologist for that next step."

She then asked, "have you been having difficulty getting an erection, and if so, for how long?"

Confession time. I told her about our sex life, me and my beautiful and loving wife Lily. "We've been married five years and have been very happy. My Lily is very highly sexed and very desirable, so we've been going at it like happy rabbits, very inventive, anything goes. Wonderful!"

I paused to gather my words, with dreamy memories flooding my mind. Not memories to share with the doctor, memories for me to savour alone. Memories of multiple orgasms in a single night, of our first time doing anal which we both loved (and continued to do), of fucking under the trees at a company picnic, of her enthusiastically sucking my cock, and swallowing, of different positions... Definitely too much information!

Then I continued, "but for the past year things have been getting difficult. Started with me not being able to achieve orgasm or having dry orgasms without ejaculating. Then about six months ago I started to go soft prematurely, and we couldn't achieve penetration. Really frustrating for us both, especially Lily!" I paused, not knowing what to say next. Didn't want to confess that oral stimulation to orgasm (me eating Lily's cunt, tonguing her clitoris) had been our 'solution'. If that's the word for it. Solution for her maybe. Not for me.

"Hmmm," said the doctor, "be sure to tell this, in detail, to the Urologist when you see her."

Her? Another woman doctor, to whom I'd be laying bare my most intimate parts?

Yes, a female Urologist. Young, highly skilled, sympathetic, and by the way, very beautiful. Like my Lily. I won't bore you readers with the clinical details -- more PSA testing, bladder investigation (by a tiny camera inserted into my bladder through my cock!). Then a biopsy (very uncomfortable!) conducted up my asshole with a metal speculum. Daily pills to regulate my bladder function. Finally, an MRI scan of my lower abdomen. Then the verdict.

Cancer. Radical prostatectomy. Complete removal. "If we're lucky, the cancer won't have spread beyond the prostate gland, and no chemo or radiation will be needed," she reassured me. She was right. We were lucky. I returned home after my hospital stay with a vertical scar in the centre of my lower stomach, from my bellybutton to my pubic bone.

I had to share all this with Lily, particularly the most worrying news, received from my urologist. "She told me that post-operation erectile disfunction will continue, probably for as long as eighteen months, possibly permanently. Damn!!" My shoulders slumped.

Lily leapt into my arms to console me. "We have a wonderful life together, now and into the future! I love you! This will not get to us!" Her fervent kisses almost convinced me that it was true. I wanted it to be true because I loved her too. She was, and is, so entrancingly beautiful. Not too tall (5 feet 6 inches), slim, shapely, dark lustrous hair, enchanting smile, lovely C-cup breasts, and a cunt to die for, to dive into, to die within...

Let me pass over the post-operative recovery, the ensuing long months of impotence. I would lie awake at night for hours, depressed, thinking about my beautiful wife and all the loving that we would not have, perhaps never would be able to have again. Some mornings I would roll over, hug her, whisper 'I love you. I really want to fuck you. But I can't!' Then she would take me in her arms, lie on her back, open her legs really really wide, raise her knees, and invite me to go down on her. The joy that I experienced from her orgasms almost made me forget that I wasn't having one, probably never have one again.

Almost. But I couldn't forget.

Lily's sympathetic patience overwhelmed me. I discovered that while I could not have an erection, I could masturbate my soft or semi-hard cock and achieve a dry semi-orgasm after a lot of effort. I shared this with Lily. "I read erotic stories on Literotica while I jerk myself off," I explained, "and the ones that really do it for me involve whippings, spankings or canings. This tells me something about myself, I guess. I wonder if, subconsciously, I don't want to be punished because of my failure."

"First if all, you haven't failed! It's something you couldn't have done anything about. And second, surely your inability to get hard enough to fuck me is punishment enough!'

I thought about this for a minute. "My inability to fuck you is punishing us both, not just me," I replied. My subconscious is telling me that I need some additional punishment, some special punishment, because I have failed you. If I buy some whips or canes or something, would you use them on me?"

After a lot of persuasion, and convincing that spankings might help me, Lily reluctantly agreed. I went onto the Literotica online store and bought a riding crop, a flogger, a paddle, and a punishment cane. Then came the big day. I laid these weapons out on our bed, stripped naked, crawled onto a couple of pillows under my hips to raise my ass nicely into position for punishment.

I called out. "Lily, would you come in here please?"

Lily came. Silence, a long pause, while she took in the scene. "W-w-what do you want me to do?"

"Five whacks, with each of three implements. You choose which three. Hit me as hard as you like."

She undressed herself, declaring "we'll have no barriers between us! This punishment will be inflicted by one as naked as you are!" Then she picked up the paddle. Gave me five love-taps with it, on my ass. Her breasts moved enticingly in sync with the motion of her right arm.

"Next one, much harder, please Lily!!" She picked up the riding crop, and gave me five more whacks, moderately harder. The little leather loop on the end of the crop really stung, left marks on me for about a week.

"Last one. Five lashes, as hard as you can. Please!!" She picked up the cane.

"As hard as I can. Here goes!!" she exclaimed and swung the punishment cane. I heard the "swish" through the air and then WHACK!!!! Agonizing!!! "W-was that hard enough?"

"Yes!" I agreed, then closed my eyes and settled myself to endure the final four lashes, which really hurt! I rolled over onto my back and began to give myself a hand job. "The pain in my ass, the knowledge that you caused it, is very exciting...I think I'll come to a climax quite quickly." I continued stroking, while Lily got onto the bed, gathered me in her arms, and gave me a furious kiss. I came, groaning through my dry orgasm. Big deal, but an orgasm.

"Your turn," I murmured, rolling her over onto her back. I traced kisses and licks over her face, ears, neck, down to her ample breasts, her dark stiff nipples. She began to groan for me. Then down, down, ever down to her downy soft cunt, her labia between her opening legs. Two lovely outer labia, two lovelier inner labia, all drenched with my eager saliva, and I licked and licked. Finally I settled on circling Lily's lovely clitoris with my tongue, while I inserted two fingers into her vagina and began to seek out her G-spot. She began to buck up and down, rigid with passion, then furiously gripping my head between her thighs as she wailed her way through a ferocious orgasm.

The months went by. Periodic checkups by the Urologist (always nice to undress for her!), but no progress on the erectile disfunction, alas. Finally came the grim day when the doctor told me that there would very likely be no solution, no improvement. Mr. Limp Prick limped home to break the bad news to a visibly distressed Lily. But I did have a plan.

"What are we going to do?" she wailed. "I'm only 31 -- I have a long life ahead of me, and you know that I have a healthy appetite for sex, for loving, and I've been so deprived of the feeling of your wonderful big cock probing high inside me, taking me over, filling me with your wonderful warm semen!" She collapsed in tears into my arms.

I held her close, letting her sob out her frustrations and despair while I searched for a way to divulge my plan, see the way forward. Finally I began by speaking about our experiences over the last few months.

"Here's what I see as the situation, and three possible ways forward. Please let me say this all without interrupting me or protesting -- then we can have a discussion at the end. Ok??"

"Um...ok." She nestled into my chest, holding me close.

"I've been aware of your frustrations and anxiety, and I'm keenly conscious of the fact that our sexual activity is not enough to satisfy you, that you want more than being licked to your orgasms. I know that your unhappiness has been growing over the last 18 months because of several things. First, your spankings have become more and more severe! We started with five whacks with each of three of our implements -- little more than love taps, really. You've slowly increased the severity of your strokes, and you've more than doubled the number -- now my spankings are really harsh beatings, ten or twelve lashes times three. I haven't minded the intense pain 'cos I know it's a way for you to work out your frustrations with the situation. And I feel like I deserve to suffer for you."

I paused for a moment, she sobbed and nodded agreement, and I went on. "I've also sensed that you are getting less and less satisfaction out of my oral attentions to your lovely cunt. You want more, you want the whole tamale, and I can't give it to you. Probably never again. And also, you're growing more distant, less turned on by me, fewer cuddles, no snuggles." Again, she held me close, sobbing, and nodded. "You used to welcome my caresses, my hands touching and exploring you. But lately you remove my hands when I touch you, you make me feel unwelcome, you move away to prevent intimacy, and that really guts me." Again, Lily sobbed, nodded, held me close.

"And this whole situation is destroying our relationship! Time was I never heard a cross word from you, but you have become increasingly short-tempered of late. And while we used to do all kinds of fun stuff together -- everything from playing Scrabble to watching corny movies on Netflix -- you are now more and more distant, as if you don't like my company or something. You just take your iPad and go away and read, or something. I miss your smiles and laughter." Again, an embrace, accompanied by a sob and a nod.

I went on, "our problem has three solutions, one of which I reject outright because it would be unfair to you, destroy you. That would be for you to have an operation, surgically sterilize you, remove your sex glands, make you beyond sexual desire." Lily stiffened in my arms, shook her head, but said nothing.

"Second solution would be to divorce. Set you free to find a second husband, a new life. I'm not the only fish in the sea, and I am not capable of pleasing you sexually. I would hate that, because it would deprive me of the dearest being I've ever known, or ever will know. But if that's the solution, I'm willing to do it to give you the chance of happiness." Again Lily stiffened, held me tighter, said nothing.

"Third solution would be for you to take a lover, to find your sexual satisfaction with another man or men. Wouldn't be cheating, 'cos I would know everything. I am willing for this if it would ensure your happiness..." I paused, then murmured "I'm finished now, darling Lily -- those are the only solutions I can think of. The floor is yours."

Lily was slow to respond, thinking things through, choosing her words carefully. "Um...only thing to start with is total rejection of solution two. Divorce is OUT. OF. THE. QUESTION!!!!" She shouted those words and threw herself at me in a huge hug. "You are my all, my everything! Life without you would be inconceivable, horrible, I'd rather be dead!" She held me, desperately, sobbing.

I responded, joking, trying to break the ice. "Never thought of double suicide...another option..."

Lily managed a weak smile, and a little punch on my shoulder. "You were always the joker, seeing the bright side of things! I love you!! But you've landed an awfully large load of things to think about on me, from the doctor's prognosis (which I want to double-check) to the lifestyle changes you've proposed. I can't give you an answer now -- let me think about what you've said, do some internet research, maybe talk to some friends. Give me space to think, and when I've made some decisions we can continue this talk. But remember!! Above all, I love you!! NO. DIVORCE!!"

~~~~~

Days passed. Lily was, I could see, deep in thought, preoccupied during the days, not sleeping well at night. Lots and lots of time on her computer, searching for answers on the internet and also on the telephone, talking to friends. Attentive and loving with me -- held me close once and said, "I love you!! We're in this together! Please just be patient." I gave her space to seek for her solution.

Came a Saturday when I'd prepared breakfast. Lily came into the kitchen in her dressing gown, engagingly tousled from sleep. "If you'd like, um, when we've finished breakfast, maybe we could continue our talk?" And she sealed that with a ferocious kiss, leaving me limp with desire. As if I wasn't limp already...

Breakfast over, we cuddled on the couch in the TV room. Lily began. "A few days ago you asked me to listen and be silent. Now it's my turn to speak, okay?" I nodded assent.

"First let me get the medical stuff out of the way. I checked your prognosis with several sources and the verdict is unanimous -- it's possible, but you're unlikely ever to be cured of erectile disfunction, more's the pity. You have a lovely cock, nearly eight inches when erect, and very thick -- a collector's item. We've had such fun with it, it's given us both so much joy and happiness. And it makes me so sad that it's gone soft, and no fault of yours. I'd give anything to have it hard again, pulsing up inside me, surging your sperm into me, giving me such wonderful orgasms."

She paused to kiss me, fondled my soft cock, then went on. "I've consulted with specialists at the Mayo Clinic about sterilization, your first option. What we'd be facing is, really, like a sex-change operation, without the addition of a penis. It's possible, with a lot of hormonal re-balancing to suppress my female desires. But that would not be my first option."

Lily went on, "so we come to the other alternative, as you said, 'take a lover'. I don't want a lover, I have a lover, he's sitting right here beside me, and he is irreplaceable!" She swept me up with another kiss. "So it's a question of me finding sexual satisfaction with another man or men, leaving affection out of it, not to speak of love."

There was a long silence, as Lily sought words to express herself. I sat, awaiting her next thought, which came as a single word.

"Cuckold."

"Is that what you would want? To be a cuckold?"

I felt that her question deserved an answer, so I replied "yes, if that would make you happy as my wife."

She thought for a moment, then went on, "that's the ultimate question I've been wrestling over for days. And nights. Do I need sex? Do I need the release that all-consuming orgasms can bring, and have brought? I'm not a nun, unexperienced, dedicated to a life of chaste celibacy -- I've had five years of glorious, wonderful, fulfilling sex with you, intimacy in our bed...oohh! The memories that have flooded my mind and thrilled me!! Do you remember our first all-nighter??"

"Yes, my darling Lily -- I'll never forget it!! Six times we did it!!" I reached over and gave her a huge hug and a fervent kiss.

Lily burst into tears, and cried, "we could trade happy anecdotes here all day! We have had such a mutually satisfying relationship -- when you spoke about how you were missing the intimacies, the fun we used to share, it just gutted me."

She paused, then blurted out, "so my answer to the question is yes, I need sex, and I need it badly. Not love -- I already have a lover. But I need to add sex to it. I confess that I am very highly sexed. I need to cuckold you. If that brings the solution, well and good. If it does not, I'm off to the Mayo Clinic and the knife. But divorce is NOT. AN. OPTION!! I LOVE YOU!! She hurled herself at me, sobbing in my arms.

I held her, stroking her back in the way that always used to make her purr with pleasure, and waited. I sensed that there was more, much more that she wanted to say. Minutes went by.

"Cuckold," she murmured. "Has such a nasty sound. Means 'a man whose wife has committed adultery'. Adultery...also a nasty word. Maybe something that children can't do, only adults." She paused, smiled at her joke, then said "adulterating is the act of making something impure, debased..."

Lily pulled herself up. "What I'm trying, coming to say is that there are dangers in this course of action, dangers to our marriage, and we have to be wary of them. I've read a lot of stories and discussions about wife-sharing, cuckolds, cucks, bulls and so on over the last few days on Literotica.com and other internet sites, and the world of cuckolding has common elements, things that we must avoid. I've made a list of themes." Always my Lily, thorough and methodical!

"First, the cuckold consents, as you are consenting, to his wife engaging in sex with the other man. But the cuckold is often humiliated, dominated or otherwise abused by the wife or the other man. Sometimes even physically abused, whipped, tied up. Usually the cuckold feels shame because he has a small penis, can't make his wife orgasm, while the other man is hugely well-endowed. The other man often orders the cuckold around, belittles him. The wife in some stories abuses her husband by physically restraining his penis in a cock cage, locking him up and denying him the pleasure of fucking or even masturbating, sometimes for weeks at a time. NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN. WITH. US. No humiliation. I love you; I love only you!"

She let that sink in, then continued, "second, sometimes the wife, over time, becomes fascinated by the large cock of the other man, seeks to see it and enjoy it privately, away from her cuckold-husband. In some stories the cuckolding happens in secret and is later revealed. Some of these cuckolding stories are just divorces for adultery, happening in slow motion. NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN. WITH. US. We'll have no privacy or seclusion -- I want every physical act of sex to be witnessed by you and consented to by you, or at least fully known to you. There's other stuff that we can discuss as we go along. But do you agree to everything I've said so far?"

Ball was in my court...I thought her comments over for a few moments, realizing that launching ourselves into this would mean crossing a bridge and that there would be no going back. But forward we must go! "I agree with everything you've said, my darling Lily, and I'm glad you'd like me to watch, 'cos I'd find that very exciting! There may come times when you might want a repeat session or sessions with 'the man' to be private, and that would be ok too, you'd tell me all about it afterwards." I exclaimed, gathering her up in a huge hug. "But there are two things. First, about my consent. We would come to a time when we three (you, me, and 'the man' who's going to fuck you) are together in the bedroom. I'm male enough to realize that 'the man' would want to be in control, so at that point I would tell him that he could do anything he wants, and I would help him in any way he tells me to -- as long as you agree --"