Origin of an Ethical Bull

PREFACE: This story deals with consensual cuckoldry. If this is not your thing, please move on and keep your negative comments to yourself. As an 'ethical' Bull, I do not condone non-consensual cheating behavior. All my interactions as a Bull have been with the informed consent of all parties involved, the enthusiastic consent of the husband, and the unconditional willingness of the wife (she wanted it for herself, not to please her husband). This is an accurate non-fictional account of becoming the Bull for a friend's wife in my mid-late 20's. The series is written with robust context and backstory to assist the reader in understanding how I started the life of a Bull and the personal challenges Bulls face on our journey to your wife's bedroom. It illustrates how it really happened for me, how it alters relationships, and doesn't leave out the challenges or unflattering aspects. The first installment is very tame, the second installment will be significantly more risqué. If you are looking for graphic content and don't care about the backstory, then please skip to Chapter 2-to be released in the coming days.

PROLOGUE: The backstory

I had recently been divorced after a 7-year marriage and was devastated. The now ex-wife was an abusive and overly jealous woman. Anytime another woman would talk to me, she was going to be punish me for it. It didn't matter who, it could be an 80-year-old woman in a wheelchair. She was always convinced that I was going to be unfaithful to her. And to that end, she used every mental and emotional tactic she could to wither my confidence and self-esteem. I don't say any of this to invoke feelings of pity from the reader, more so to illustrate my discontent and my mental state leading to me entering service as a Bull.

Being newly single opened a whole new world for me (cue that song from Disney's 'Aladdin'). Suddenly, I had more money than I ever had in my checking account (turns out wives can be expensive). I had free time to pursue my interests without hindrance. A close friend helped me land a sweet gig as a fencing instructor at one of the oldest athletic clubs in the Gulf South. I also used the newly found free time to study and obtain my personal training certification (ACE). After a few months, my clientele had increased dramatically. My positivity and constant encouragement helped many achieve their fitness goals. About six months in, my side hustles made more than my regular paycheck. Altogether, I was making around $80k a year in the deep south in the late 1990's. It would be equivalent to around $150k in today's money in a state with a much lower cost of living than most (I.E. my luxury 2-bedroom condo at the marina was $500 a month at this time).

I stood at 6'1" with a 48-inch chest, massive wide shoulders, and lats, with a 33-inch waist complete with ripped abdominal muscles. My body fat was such that you could run an IV-line on my abs (sub 9%). My Circassian blue eyes, full lips, neatly groomed beard, and shaved skull made middle-aged wives seek me out as a personal trainer. The optimistic and body positive approach was another reason they loved me. I was phenomenally successful and later ended up sleeping with some of my clients -- but that's a story for another time.

I was living my best life. I had my own small circle of friends. I was re-emerging from the long darkness of an abusive marriage and finding happiness at every turn. And that is how it all started...

I was great friends with a woman who went by Mal (short for Mallory). We met while working out and had post workout beers at the bar in the athletic club (the bar had a polished copper top). Her husband Calvin also worked out there and would often join us for drinks. Calvin was in his late 40's and his wife Mal was 27 years old. Soon, we became so close that I would spend time together at their place in lieu of going back home after the gym. We usually stayed out late, and I frequently crashed in their guest room. We all became close and one night Calvin shared some things with me that had weighed heavily on his mind.

Chapter 1: Calvin Opens Up

One night in the Fall, Calvin asked me to come over to hang out to watch his favorite SEC football team play. Mal was out shopping with her mother. I parked my Yamaha Road Star (classic styled motorcycle) out front, while Calvin was already at the door waiting for me. Calvin was six feet and four inches tall and was extremely fit. You couldn't miss his imposing figure in the doorway. It should be stated up front that Calvin was an attractive and intimidating man. I reasoned that he could tear my arms out of their sockets, like an angry Wookie if he wanted. While this man is a cuckold, he does not project it at all in public. He was a very dominant, confident, and sexually attractive male to the casual observer.

"Come on, man, the game's about to start," he shouted.

In the deep south, the SEC is a way of life for many people. Every game night, Calvin had things set up in his man-cave, which was an extravagantly appointed guest house. If I haven't mentioned this to you before, Calvin is loaded, think double digit million-dollar net worth in the 90's. His house and his man-cave reflected that financial affluence. He always catered for game nights. Just getting an invite to his place was a huge deal. Usually there were at least a dozen guests.

"Calvin, look at this spread!", I exclaimed. "It's just us? Where is everyone? Am I that early?"

Calvin nodded and said, "Tiger, it's just us tonight. We have something special for you in the fridge top shelf. Mal was telling me how you really missed certain things from living overseas. Her idea, she insisted."

My mind started spinning trying to think about what it could be. I had set foot on every continent except for Antarctica as the son of a diplomat, so the list is huge. He saw that I was perplexed and said, "Go take a look!"

As I pulled open the door, I audibly gasped. I stared at a large gallon plastic container filled with "Ecuadorian Ceviche de Ostiones" (Black Surf Clam Ceviche in their own ink). I filled bowls for both of us while Calvin made drinks. Calvin started drinking early in the afternoon. When Calvin drank, he had zero filter and zero chill. It was one of the reasons I loved drinking with him. The things that would come out of his mouth were always entertaining. Although, I never expected what he'd share with me that fateful night.

As we sat in front of his massive television screen, he started the conversation that would change my life forever.

"Connor, it sucks getting old man," he said, "Let me ask you something?"

"We love having you over and you are a dear friend, but (long pause)... Are we keeping you from finding a companion by monopolizing your time? You have physical and emotional needs that can only be met from an intimate relationship. For instance, when is the last time you went on a date or heck, got laid?!" he questioned.

Taken aback, what I thought I heard was "Dude you are over way too much we need some space brother."

Defensively I responded, "If you need me to not come around so much, I won't be hurt or offended. I can give you space." I said defensively.

"Answering your question, I'm not ready for a full relationship, these last few years were miserable, and I want to just have fun right now. All the women in my age range seem to be focused on finding a husband and making babies. It's been over a year, and it isn't because there weren't offers. They just weren't offers I wanted to accept. Too many strings and expectations. It's why I love hanging out with your wife. She isn't interested in anything other than having fun and goofing off with me. She's better than a girlfriend. We give each other a tough time and our prank wars are epic. She's always up for an adventure. I just need you to know I would never betray you or Mal by overstepping. I promise it's all play Calvin. If I upset either of you, let me know and I'll knock it off immediately."

Calvin looked shocked, finished his old fashioned in one gulp and locked eyes with me.

"Connor, no that's not what I am saying at all. We want to spend more time with you. Mal is crazy about you, and you are one of our favorite people. Heck, she's probably going on about you with her mom right now. We just don't want to keep you from finding your next love."

Due to my insecurities, I was worried that I had done something to displease him and that he was pretending to be okay with his wife talking about another man.

"I'm sorry Calvin, I don't know why she talks about me. I'm not trying to do anything intentionally inappropriate. I admit I flirt playfully with Mal, and I don't hide it because it's all cheesy innocent type flirting. If you want me to cool it, I will."

He handed me another drink and told me that I didn't need to be defensive.

"Breathe, everything is good between us."

Calvin then disclosed, "You know my wife has ugly duckling syndrome, right? She was never asked to prom. Never had a serious boyfriend in high school or college. When I met her, she loved the attention of an older gentleman. I was her first boyfriend and have been her only lover. It's one thing for the man you marry to say you are beautiful and flirt with you. It's expected of a husband. It doesn't pack the same thrill as external validation. The silly and playful flirting you two engage in is adorable. She's never been more confident and content. Weak husbands would have issue with it. I don't. I place more importance on her well-being than my ego."

"So, it's really...", I said with uncertainty.

"You should keep flirting and coming over. Also, while we are discussing this, I don't need to be home. I travel for business often, so I would feel better knowing you were keeping her company. You give her such a confidence boost and I love that for her."

"If you both really want me to keep it up, then I'd love to do that. Mal makes me feel like everything is going to be all right and that I'm not a complete loser."

He smiled, "I thought you might. Look if it isn't clear, she has a schoolgirl crush on you. She confessed the other night that you are like the high school boyfriend that she never got to have."

"Oh man, I'm sorry. Really, I am Cal," I said filled with remorse and guilt. I had no idea that some men loved to see their spouse's genuinely happy, no matter the source. It was this first experience as a Bull that showed me how little I understood about relationships. There was tremendous personal and spiritual growth that occurred with this new beginning.

"Chill man, it's nothing to feel guilty about. There's something you need to know. You aren't alone in not getting laid for a long time. I haven't been able to satisfy Mal since the surgery two years ago. That's why I said, 'It sucks getting old'. The surgeon doing my prostatectomy botched it and my cock won't work. I've seen the best urologists in the country. Even if I didn't have the irreversible damage, the beta blockers for my blood pressure and the antidepressants keep me from being able to stand at attention. Mouths, fingers, and toys cannot replace an actual live throbbing cock.", he lamented.

I sat quietly and felt bad for his situation while he continued, "It's so unfair to her because she's in her prime. And being told in your mid-20's that your husband will never be able to fuck you again... that must be devastating. Think about how much it hurts you not having sex for a year. Now imagine how it would feel knowing you had another 30+ years of a sexless marriage ahead of you. I don't want her to suffer through that."

I didn't know what to say. Nothing I could say would come out right. I just looked down uncomfortably at my drink. The awkwardness was palpable.

"If you wonder why I am not upset about your relationship, it's because you make her feel desirable. You make her feel beautiful and confident. She's happy. Why would I want that to stop?"

"Does Mal know how you feel and that you are telling me all this?", I asked him.

"She does," he replied.

He continued, "She asked me to tell you everything I've told you tonight, no matter how uncomfortable it made me."

"Wait a minute man. Forgive me, that's messed up. Doesn't she understand that making you discuss something is not cool? You're a wreck right now!"

"And that's why we love you kid, you worry about both of us. It's necessary to discuss because we both want you to consider becoming her boyfriend."

There was a long pause. I couldn't breathe. This was the last conversation I thought I'd be having. Nothing can prepare you to hear that your friend wants you to date the love of his life. I couldn't even process what was being asked. First experiences are always hard, especially if you are caught off-guard.

After I had a moment to regain my composure I asked, "Cal, what does that look like though? How could that work? I don't want to give up my friendship with you to date your wife!" The distress in my voice was evident.

"Easy tiger, if you think about it, you already do what boyfriends do, only you are platonic. You two go out several nights a week and you sleep over at the house. How many times have you woken up on the couch with her clinging to you and drooling on your chest? You take delight in exchanges of mock outrage with each other, especially when socially inappropriate. You help her pick what to wear when you both go out. If she wants to do anything, you're her 'Ride or Die'. Plus, you follow my wife around like a lovesick puppy kid. It's sweet, but don't think we don't notice."

I thought that I had masked my growing feelings for her. I had not been fooling anyone. Calvin was mostly right. We were already lovers, just platonic. We were friends and the lines became very blurred. I thought that if it wasn't sexual, I wasn't doing anything wrong.

The opposite was true.

My inability to pick up that she had feelings for me had been withering to her self-esteem. It had frustrated her to the point of tears. I thought I was showing her how much I loved her by keeping it platonic. Without it being sexual, she'd know that I loved her for selfless reasons. Instead, I was hurting her and making her feel rejected. It is what brought about the conversation because she couldn't deal with the ambiguity of our relationship anymore.

Calvin continued, "We spoke a year ago about her finding a lover to fill in for me. We had tried everything and there were lots of tears on both our parts. Initially, she was worried about hurting me or that it was a test. One of those 'I knew you didn't love me' kind of things. She also worried about finding someone who would be safe, exclusive, and discreet. Would she be able to find someone who would treat her like a lover should? She is terrified of rejection and embarrassment. She confessed when she took a lover, it must be someone that we both liked."

"She asked me if it could be you, Connor. I agreed that if you both wanted it, then yes, you could be together. So that is why we are having this conversation, because her not knowing if you want her is agonizing and painful for her."

He walked over and said, "Mal wanted me to give you this as proof we've really discussed it. She said that she wanted you to know this is coming from both of us."

He handed me an envelope with a card inside. Her name was written across the sealed flaps, meaning it had not been opened. It read in her unmistakable handwriting, with her "oh so subtle" prose:

"Dear Connor, I've liked you since the day we met. You are too dense to see it. It's freaking 'adorkable' and frustrating that you can't pick it up. Stop fucking around and TELL ME you want us to be more than friends if you really want me. I can deal with rejection, but I cannot deal with not knowing how you really feel. If I am going to have an extramarital relationship with someone, I want it to be someone I adore and who is lovesick for me. We both know that person is you cacharrito (puppy). I'll be home at 7pm and if you are still here, then we will talk about it and discuss our expectations. If you are not here when I return home, then I will have my answer and we need not ever speak of this again. No matter what you choose, we will still be the best of friends. Nothing will change. No pressure, no strings. If it's not freely given, I don't want it.

With Love, Mallory"

I showed Calvin the card. He knowingly glanced it over and said, "I'm hoping you'll stay. She's hoping you'll stay."

"Calvin, this is a lot to take in. I feel like I'm being blindsided. I need you to be straight with me. You're serious right now? Or is this a test?"

"It's not kiddo," he remarked.

"I'll stay. If you are testing me, then our friendship would be over anyway," I replied.

Calvin chuckled, "This isn't a test. Neither of you are being set up."

We finished watching the game. Our team won, which put us in a positive mood. We had cleared all the extra food by half time and put it away. At 6:30pm, Calvin got up from the couch and said that he was walking down to his friend's house for a poker game. "I'll be home after midnight. These poker games drag on. I wish you luck in your talk with Mal," he said as he left.

I was pretty upset that I was pressured to have the talk on her terms. 'I'll be home at 7pm, I'll have my answer if you are not here.' What if I had somewhere to be? In hindsight, she had reached the point where she felt like she needed to know where we stood. She was done being coy. She was through with hinting. She wanted answers from me and intentionally gave me zero time to prepare. There was no time to think of what she might bring up. The tactic left me with two options: "Leave and ruin everything" OR "Stay and be fearlessly honest". I would find out later that I had made her cry hysterically and scream into her pillow from frustration on several occasions. She was done. She needed me to act on my feelings or let her go. She had said "No matter what you choose, we will still be the best of friends.", because she didn't want me to feel pressured. She wanted me to be hers unconditionally without any undue influence. I later learned that Calvin had planned to take her to Europe for a few months if I had chosen not to accept their offer. To allow her space and time to get over me. All of this occurred in the days before smartphones and facetime. The chances of the friendship surviving would be miniscule.

The next half hour was exhausting emotionally. I wished that I had dressed differently. I wished I had bothered to wear that cologne that I knew drove her wild. The one where she bit my neck like a hungry vampire in front of Calvin. It wasn't a sexy bite either, it was a "Ha! Ha! You scream like a little girl!" kind of bite. All Calvin had said was, "Better you than me, buddy."

As I waited in silence for her to come home, every insecurity rushed through my mind.

Mal was very right, I was oblivious. I mistook her flirting for playfulness and being nice to me. Whenever she flirted with me or paid me a compliment, it was always with a bit of silliness and laughter. I just couldn't imagine that she would find me attractive. My own insecurities and low self-esteem were hurting someone I loved. The feelings of deep regret and sorrow from hurting her still linger to this day. Intent is a funny thing, it's both relevant and irrelevant at the same time. It's relevant because it helps you know whether someone was willfully a jerk to you. It's irrelevant because just because you didn't mean to crush someone's heart, doesn't keep it from hurting just the same.

I did some breathing exercises that a yoga instructor had taught me at the gym. It helped ease my worry knowing that they had both discussed it. Calvin and Mal were my closest friends at the time. Of course, I would learn later that they were both very deliberate and methodical in recruiting me. Unbeknownst to me, they both knew exactly what they wanted from me. I was their prey not the predator. They planned and plotted it together for months, but that's another story for another time.