tagReviews & EssaysMy Life as a Cuckold

My Life as a Cuckold


A True Story

After the first year of marriage, my wife began an affair with her manager. He was the first of many men over the years. Some of them I knew about and I may have even encouraged them but most were done behind my back, in secret. Because she has these secrets, not a day goes by that it doesn't play on my mind. One day in my angst, I typed the word 'infidelity' into Google and discovered Literotica.

There are so many stories here about unfaithful spouses and I discovered, that they refer to me as a cuckold. Some of the stories are about men who want to be cuckold and some wives oblige them but these are not truly cuckold men. These are couples who are in a deep, intimate, sharing, and loving relationship.

They are honest and truthful with one another, keeping nothing back, sharing their most deepest feelings and fears. They are secure in each others love, knowing that nothing can come between them. The happiness of their partner is paramount.

Together, these lovers get on the Thrill Ride of sexual adventure, experiment and experience all that life has to offer. This is the kind of loving marriage that I wanted but my wife could not be true to me or herself.

For me I find writing to be therapeutic. It's like talking to an analyst. By writing I discover more things about myself and why I reacted to events and circumstances that happened to me so long ago. Now in my mature years I have the knowledge and life experience that I did not have as a young man.

Some may say, "Come on, it happened fifty years ago. Let it go." That may be true but after all of these years, my wife is still keeping secrets from me. Every day that she keeps a secret, is another day of betrayal so it might just as well have been yesterday.

It would have been better for me to have caught her in the act of fornicating with him. Sure, it would have destroyed my ego but we both would have had to deal with it. It would have been out in the open, where she would have had no choice but to be honest with me. I can forgive the infidelity, I cannot forgive the deceitful lies.

She chose to keep her affair a secret. She disconnected her emotions from me and attached them to another. Leaving me adrift with feelings of emptiness, loneliness, self doubt and questioning my own sanity because she kept telling me, that I was imagining things. That it was all in my head.

In many of my true stories, here on Literotica, I've tried to turn a negative into a positive by keeping the theme erotic. In the comments section of my stories, Anonymous has left some pretty nasty comments. He has called me a wimp, a sissy with no balls and he is right. I am a cuckold. I never wanted to become a cuckold. I hate being a cuckold. I wanted to be just like Anonymous, a strong macho, hard nosed, unlike Christ, unforgiving, alpha male but I am what I turned out to be, a submissive cuckold, dominated by my wife.

My cuckolding was in the making, long before I was married.

My mother was a very beautiful woman who found herself pregnant when she was a teenager. If abortion had been legal at that time, then I would not exist. My father married her. The last thing she wanted was to be married with a baby. When I was growing up, she always let me know, that if it wasn't for me, she could have been a movie star or she could have married a wealthy man.

She blamed me for our poverty, that I was always costing her money. She often took out her frustrations on me with beatings. When she had me alone, for the slightest infraction, she would strip me naked and with my father's leather belt she would go into a rage, beating me. After the beating, she would dress me in long pants and a long sleeve shirt to hide the black and blue welts covering my body.

I once ran away from home but my father caught me. He gave me a beating like he was fighting another man. Once I was old enough to defend myself the beatings stopped but the hurtful words continued.

As a result of my childhood, I entered adulthood with absolutely no self confidence or self esteem. I never should have gotten married at such an early age.

When I first met my wife to be, Rosemarie, she was in her last year of high school. She was a lot of fun to talk with, impressing me with her knowledge, intellect and a good sense of humor.

At that time she was very fat and no man would give her a second look which gave me a sense of security. To think that she could be all mine.

Her parents were very strict with her, keeping a close watch on her by limiting her comings and goings. Because she was a girl, she was denied a college education, only boys went to college. Her family believed that girls were to stay at home and have babies. This left her with a lot of resentment toward men.

The only way she could ever get out of her parents home, in her words, "Was in a wedding dress or a coffin." She saw me as her way to independence. She knew that once married, she could control me and once I was her husband, she would have the status of a married woman.

I was bright but I was a truck driver not exactly what she wanted but I was available. She went on a crash diet and lost all of her fat but still retained her sexual curves. Men began to look at her and talk with her and I could see that she loved the attention. It made me jealous and I wished that she had remained fat.

When we became engaged, her grand-father offered me a job in his construction company and she convinced me to accept his offer. By doing so, I doubled my salary, besides, the loneliness of driving a truck was getting to me. She was beginning to own me and I loved it. I fell in love with her. A deep, deep, intense, unconditional love. I forsook all of my friends. I only wanted to be with her and my whole world revolved around her.

She said that she loved me and at that time, I believed her but her love was more a love of having a guy to go study with. She loved being engaged, of being a bride and she loved the status of being a married woman. She did not love me but rather, loved having me.

We dated for two years, agreeing that we would wait until we were married before having sexual intercourse. I think that was a mistake. We should have had relations, this way I would have gotten to know her better but I was afraid of having a baby out of wedlock and the life of poverty it would have caused.

My girlfriend worked for a finance company and she had to work on Friday nights which gave her a two hour dinner time. I always took her out to dinner and sometimes we would have dinner at her parents house.

It was four months before our wedding when my fiance was promoted to the position of executive secretary for a single, handsome, young man who had just been hired. She was just out of high school and she was so excited about her new position and new manager.

On those Friday nights when we were dining with her parents, she would go on and on, talking about her new boss. It was obvious to me and her mother that she had sexual desires for him. During these conversations, her mother would often lock eyes with me, whenever her daughter unknowingly, expressed her sexual availability for him.

Whenever her mother locked eyes with me, she said nothing but her expression said it all, "He's going to fuck your bride. Can you handle that?"

In that moment when our eyes were locked, I silently replied, "I know he is but I love her so much and she is so happy. I just want her to be happy when she's with me."

My in-laws were laying out a large sum of money for this wedding and now they didn't know if we would go through with it. I was concerned about my girl friend's feelings for her boss but there was nothing I could do. I knew that by marrying her, I was destined to become her cuckold.

On our wedding day, I pledge my love, devotion and fidelity to her. She in turn, took possession of me. It was an arranged marriage, by her design. She liked me but she never really had a passionate love for me.

Our honeymoon night was a big let down for me. We had our passionate time of fore play ending in sexual relations and then she went into a deep sleep. I figured that she had a very busy day and she was just very tired but the entire honeymoon turned out to be a big let down.

She did not have the enthusiasm or passion for sexual relations with me that I had for her. She would put me off and we argued a little over it. She made me feel like I was an oversexed pervert, in fact, she has made me feel like that our whole married life. At the time, I was too young, too naive and I didn't know what was normal or abnormal.

From the time that I was a small boy, music has always given me a great deal of pleasure. During the two years that we dated, I always had the radio on playing music and I thought that Rosemarie enjoyed it too.

While we were driving to our honey moon, she said to me, "Will you please turn off that radio. It's so annoying."

"Sorry. I thought you liked music."

"Well I don't," she answered. So I ended up never playing music in her company to this day.

After the honeymoon, we returned to work and our sex life noticeably picked up. It picked up because she had the hots for her boss and working with him all day, left her very aroused. He was a tall, handsome, single, personable, college educated guy and I could understand why she was attracted to him.

Every day I dreaded the thought of my beautiful bride working for him and offering herself to him. I knew that anytime he wanted her, she was there for his pleasure and there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

When she came home at night, she was all amorous from working around him, so I benefited. She would come home from work, we would kiss, caress and have a quiet dinner. Then sit and talk for a while about our day. Then she would change into something comfortable, we would watch a little TV and then go to bed. Most nights we would make love and fall asleep in each others arms. Life seemed so wonderful.

Sometimes if I felt like sex and she didn't, I would get her to talk about her job and then work the conversation around to her boss. Once she started talking about her boss, she would become aroused and we would end up making love. I knew that when she climaxed, she was thinking of him.

We were married just over a year, when one night she came home from work, a quick kiss with no caress. She avoided eye contact and she seemed distant. After dinner there was no intimate conversation. She was just tired and wanted to get the dishes done so she could change. That night we did not make love, she was too tired and I could no longer get her to talk about her boss. It was the beginning of her always being tired.

It seemed like there was a disconnection between us. Like some imaginary wall had been placed between us and I could not get to her. She was disinterested in me. I didn't know what was happening to us. Why did I feel so alone? That was the worse part, the awful loneliness and for some unknown reason, I started getting homosexual feelings that I had never gotten before.

At bedtime, I was getting into bed with a beautiful, sexual women who would lie next to me and I could feel her naked body next to mine but she did not want our bodies to touch. She would pull away from me saying, "I'm so tired."

Sexual contact between us became infrequent. I was always in a state of arousal and I began loosing sleep. I began to realize that she was having an affair with her boss. I'd become angry but then I could not blame him, after all she was so beautiful, so sexual. If I were in his place I would do the same.

By now I was convinced of her affair and I discovered the tell tale signs of dried semen in the crotch of her used panties. I also discovered in the back of her underwear draw a couple of pairs of sexy, lacy silk panties and bras that I never saw her wear.

I confronted her, accusing her of having an affair with her boss but she denied it, saying that I had no proof. She kept telling me, that it was all in my head. That it was all my imagination. That I was getting sick and I needed help.

From the start, my mother-in-law knew what her daughter was up to and what she was doing to me. I could tell by the way they talked to each other that they must be arguing behind my back. Her mother tried to make up for her daughter's infidelity by being overly kind to me. I responded to her and we became very close but that is another story.

My mother-in-law was conflicted, she liked me but she had to coverup for her daughter. I tried to talk to her but she would dismiss me by saying, "My daughter loves you very much."

It started with me not sleeping at night and then not eating like I should. I lost weight, my eyes became dark and sunken. Looking into the mirror, I saw a face of death. Lacking sleep, I became confused and began to speak incoherently.

My mother-in-law didn't like what she was seeing in me so she brought me to visit her doctor. The doctor recommended that I sign myself into a hospital as I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

I signed myself into the hospital where they put me on sedatives to get me to sleep. After two weeks of rest and sleep, I was back to feeling my old self. I signed myself out of the hospital, A.M.A. against medical advice and returned to the environment that put me there in the first place.

Coming out of the hospital, I now had the stigma of having mental problems and my wife could now play the role of the poor innocent wife whose husband is mentally unstable.

The doctor had given me a prescription for a strong sedative. Now, whenever I'm unable to sleep because I'm sexually aroused, my wife would say, "Here honey, take your medication."

What I needed was the reassurance that she loved me by copulating with me but instead, she was putting me to sleep by drugging me with sedatives and I was letting it all happen.

It was the lowest, depressing point in my life. I felt so alone, so empty, so rejected. On top of that, there was no construction work, so I was unemployed.

Her days were spent working with good looking guys who were college graduates. After work she would come home to a high school drop out, a misfit and total looser. I had no right to get married. I should never have been born.

One morning she left for work and I went to see about a job which I did not get. I came home and backed my car into the garage. I closed the garage door and rolled down the car windows. I had a full tank of gas. I sat in the car, staring at the ignition. All I had to do was start the engine and drift off to sleep. I was twenty-three years old and I never gave myself a chance.

I thought of my wife, "Let her find the body. She deserves it. No! Screw her! I'm getting out of here. I'll start a new life. A whole new life."

Going back into the house, I gathered up my things and packed them into the car. I left her a note, "We are through. You can have the house. I'm taking the car." I left, vowing that I would never marry again.

Having no place to go, I rented a room in a rooming house that an old woman ran. $12.00 a night and for another $12.00 you could get meals.

There were four older men renting rooms in that house. Two were house painters, one was a railroad worker, the other a mechanic. They seemed to have no family and probably never would. It was too late for them to raise a family. Time had passed them by.

No! I did not want that kind of a life. I wanted my own family. I was lost and so alone. Two days in that rooming house and I could no longer take the loneliness. The feelings of loss and failure at marriage were overwhelming, that I'm nothing. I have nothing and my money was running out.

It was a Saturday and I decided to return home. I knocked on the door and she opened it. "Oh, your back," she said with a disappointed tone in her voice.

She wasn't too happy to see me. She wanted to be the poor wife, whose husband had left her. She wanted to be the martyr to her family and I was denying her that and her freedom. I was also surrendering to her and she knew it.

Living with her and having no sexual relations was better than the emptiness and loneliness I was facing by living alone.

I presented my proposal to her, "Look. I need a place to stay. I'll help you with the house. I took a minimum wage job driving a cab and I'm going to go to school at night. Once I get on my feet with a better paying job, then we can talk about splitting up."

"What's the pay on this job?" She asked.

"A hundred and twenty five a week."

Her face took on a look of disgust as she said, "You mean to tell me that you gave up a hundred and thirty five dollars a week unemployment for a hundred twenty five dollar job? You're really not too bright."

"Hey, I can't stay idle. I've got to be doing something."

"Okay. Bring your stuff in. I'm on my way to the supermarket. When I get back, we'll have lunch."

When she returned from the store, I helped her unpack the groceries. As she was unpacking, she reached in a bag and took out a jar. Handing it to me she said, "Here, I bought you a jar of vaseline. Put it in your night stand."

That night when we were getting ready for bed, I undressed as quickly as I could. I was about to get into bed when she came out of the bathroom and caught me in the nude. Suddenly I panicked, I didn't want her to see my penis. When flaccid the head of it hangs halfway down my testicles not like her boss's which probably hangs down well past his testicles and swings back and forth when he walks, like some of those guys I remember seeing in the locker room. I remember thinking to my self, "How lucky their wives must be."

Before I was cuckold, I never thought much about penis size, always thinking that I was average but now I felt that my wife must see me as small and unsatisfactory in comparison to her boss. Even to this day, after all of these years, I still get embarrassed and try to cover up when she sees me naked.

I didn't want her to be able to compare me to him but it was too late. Embarrassed, I got into bed as quickly as I could. She was nude and she seemed to be taking her time, walking around the room while taking off her earrings. I think she was purposely exposing herself to me. Was she trying to arouse me? As I was watching her, I could feel my penis begin to stir.

What power she has over me, knowing that she can arouse me by just exposing herself. She came to the bed and got in. I turned off the lamp and lay on my back, knowing that in a few minutes, she would be fast asleep.

Laying there in the darkness, she moved and rested her opened hand on my stomach. I did not expect that. Just the touch of her hand on me and I become excited. My penis began to stiffen. Then she slowly slid her hand down into my pubic hair and rested it there for a moment. She knows just how to excite me and I have no resistance. Slowly she moved her hand and I felt her clasp the shaft of my erection and I sighed at her touch.

She snuggled up to me. Putting her mouth close to my ear and in a soft, sultry voice, she asked, "Did you take your sleeping pill?"


"Why not?"

"They leave me groggy in the morning."

Then in her low seductive voice she said, "Give me the vaseline and I'll take care of this for you. I'll put you in a deep sleep."

She was now dry stroking my erection. I didn't expect to be sleeping in the same room with her, much less the same bed so I pushed my luck and asked, "Why don't you suck it for me?"

"You know I don't do that. I'm not that kind of a girl. Just give me the vaseline."

I pressed further, "Let me lay on top of you and put it in you."

"No. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Just give me the vaseline so I can sooth you. You like to be stroked and I love stroking your little peter."

I reached over into the nightstand, retrieving the jar. Not wanting to mess the covers, she flipped them back, exposing my genitals to the cool, dark air as I opened the jar. There in the darkness, I held the jar as she scooped out some jelly with her fingers. Then I felt its coolness on my member as she began her slow stroking.

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byCuckoldGuy© 17 comments/ 81023 views/ 25 favorites

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