Saw

This is a work of fiction and all characters are over 18. It contains themes of cuckolding and threesomes. Please do not read if you are offended.

***

The draw back sheds very little dust. The push forward drives you deeper. Each pairing in itself seems inconsequential but tens, hundreds of these put together have you arrive at a very different place. Changed. Never the same.

I could tell a thousand stories, each draw and plunge an adventure. Probably good stories too, concise, to the point. Most similar to others that you read. Graphic. Sexual.

But this one is about sawing the board through, almost without realizing it. The first draw was a fantasy. Safe. Exploring something different. A little fun with my wife. Of course I assumed her and another woman, but she playfully challenged that...why can't it be another man. The saw moved forward.

With the board in two pieces, I am a cuckold. More than that, owned by another man. The fantasy kindled but chance ignited it.

Life moves fast at a point. Gets complicated and the world isn't getting simpler. Work, obligations, stress. Most manage it well and I think that I did too, but I needed to clear some cobwebs. Get an outside perspective. I went through the normal channels and found a local therapist. Meetings once a week. Mostly just conversation. He helped me focus. Sort things out. He recommended writing... a journal, diary or something. Putting it on paper forced me to focus, creating complete thoughts.

It was an effective tool. I use it regularly now. Over time trust grew and a relationship formed. He was casually direct. He possessed an understanding authority. I felt at ease with him and settled. Our time was winding down with not much more to discuss. I brought it up. Sex. The fantasy. I don't know why. There was a thrill, I guess. But it was safe. This was a place to talk about that. And he listened.

I felt embarrassed and he graciously let it fall. Shortly after, we parted ways.

Some time later we ran into each other. Just a random store around town. I introduced my wife to him and offered coffee. He accepted and we chatted a bit. Small talk. Normal.

That night I shared with her that last tidbit. "I told him about the fantasy". She was shocked, or at least feigned it. "What did you say!?"

"Just that we play with the idea,...you know, a threesome..".

"What did he say?"

"Just that it's normal...if we are both into it, its good to explore. Normal stuff."

"That's it?"

"I mentioned the part about it being with another man...asked if was weird..."

"Annnd?"

"He said that it was fine...kind of let it drop."

Her "shock" evaporated and she was playful. I felt her hand on my thigh. My body responded. "He was a handsome man...mature, distinguished..."

It was my turn for shock, my mine was not feigned. "What? Him?"

Her lips drew close to my ear, her breath a whisper as she handled me, "what did you want to him..."

***

His text was a simple "Happy Birthday". I got many. But none made me react like his. "Thank you, sir"

The comma should have been bolded in a large font. One little piece of punctuation coaxed me into a completely different frame of mind.

(...)

(...)

"I have a gift for you tonight"

(...)

"8 o'clock"

I had butterflies and my head buzzed. She smiled. Knowingly. At least I thought. The day was a blur. She met him at the door, then disappeared. He greeted me with a "Happy Birthday" and a casual "Strip".

I obeyed

He held a small box. Unremarkable. His attempt at small talk did little to settle me. He found a place in the middle of our couch, almost distracted leaving me hang there.

"Kneel"

I sunk to my knees. He made a presentation of opening the box. Obscuring the contents. It couldn't have been choreographed any better as she descended the stairs in a tight black dress and thigh high boots. His words were muffled, somewhere in the background. Page 42.

I didn't need to see, he had my journal. As the box fell to the floor, he made a show of thumbing through it. She sat by his side. Comfortable. Like lovers.

He read the words, but didn't need to. At least for me. She looked on bewildered but amused as he described her outfit to a t. Realization sunk in and she looked quizzically at me as he handed over the book. It was like hot iron. It felt heavy as I knelt before him and my wife.

He smiled. He hiked up her dress and guided me forward. "Read from the page with the red ribbon." He allowed my cock to rest against her. A privilege now, but my head throbbed and I flushed with embarrassment denying my enjoyment.

Hearing the words, my words, out loud in front of others was unbelievably raw. Vulnerable. Exposed. He chose the fantasy about someone that we knew. Not something wild, off the charts. Something close. Real. I was hard. Shaking. I looked and saw that she was wet, even with the look of disbelief on her face.

Parts were graphic, but she didn't have to go too far to imagine the people. It felt like forever as I looked at her...confessing.

For that passage, we were lost. Lost together. When I finished, mind spinning, beyond shame I felt him behind me, taking the book. My book. My most secret thoughts and pass it to her.

"Read from the black ribbon"

Her voice trembled as our sex touched, unable to consummate. "My Master held my hips..."