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A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 12

by cuckolder

06/28/2016 15:56 in humiliation

Chapter 12: Our 25th Anniversary

February, 2008


Critics of my Diary on Literotica have asked why I post in the Loving Wives section. There are two reasons: 1) There is no Cuckolding section, and 2) Sally truly IS a loving wife. I asked her to cuckold me for 15 YEARS, and when she finally tried it, we discovered that we BOTH loved it. We have been exploring this relationship since 1998, and we are happier than we were in all the pre-cuckolding years.

And for those who say I'm a wimp (or worse) for staying around to be her "meal ticket," please know that each of us earns a salary sufficient for ALL our needs. Our relationship is one of equals... except in bed!

So once again, if a story about a wife cuckolding her husband will bother you, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS. If you read it anyway, and then you write that it bothers you, well... I got nothin.

If you LIKE what I write, then please vote - either before or after you clean up :-)


Cuckold Paul


It has been a while since I have written a chapter of my Cuckold's Diary, but not for lack of fun. My wife, Sally, and her lover, Ted, have seen each other about once a month and we have settled into a comfortable, exciting relationship. Each of us knows our place, and each of us is satisfied with what we are doing. What more could anyone ask of life?

In March, 2008, Sally and I will celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. In April, Sally and Ted will celebrate their 10th anniversary as sex partners. The two events will be celebrated quite differently, since Sally loves me, but only has sex with him. The last time Sally touched me sexually was November 20, 2006, and one of the questions in my mind was what she would want to do as our anniversary approached. Last week, I got my answer.

Last Monday evening, we finished work and drove to the hotel where we always meet Ted. We stopped at Wegman's for a late-night snack and I bought lunch for the three of us for the following day. Then, after checking in, Sally and I went to the hotel bar. Since Ted joins us around 9 a.m. and stays until mid-afternoon, we have the night before as a date for just the two of us. A date which will NOT end with sex, but a date nonetheless. We talked about work, unwound from the day, and then we talked about sex.

I mentioned to Sally that I see her get so excited when she is going to bed with Ted, and that excitement is completely missing when she accepts my offer to help her cum at home with her vibrator. She thought about it and said I was right: she could take it or leave it when she lets me play with her, but as soon as she sees Ted, she wants him in her bed and in her body. I asked if she knew why she didn't get excited when I offer, especially since I always make her cum, and she responded, "There's nothing exciting about sex with you. I can cum by myself just as easily – sometimes more easily. You don't turn me on, and oh my God HE turns me on. So, what's to get excited about with you?"

I looked at her face and saw no guile, no discomfort and no play-acting. Just relaxed, honest conversation between a wife and husband who have known each other a long time, who have gone through a lot together, and who have agreed that he is a cuckold.

I went to sleep with an erection which Sally easily ignored. She was getting ready for her date in the morning.

Ted arrived around 9:30 a.m. There was freezing rain all over the area, but his only concern was being late for his girlfriend. We sat together in our suite's living room for a half an hour, chatting about life, business and everything other than what was about to happen. Finally, Sally had had enough; she turned to him and said, "It's time for us to go to bed." Ted did not need to be asked twice, and the two of them went hand in hand toward the bedroom.

I waited until I heard the bedroom door click shut, then I stripped off my pants and underwear and headed for the hallway outside the bedroom. Sitting on a chair right outside their door, I knew what the sounds from the bedroom would tell me: They would get undressed, moan a little as they explored each other's body, they would fuck until Ted came, and then the vibrator would start up as Ted helped Sally to cum. That was their pattern, and there was a strange comfort for me in knowing what would happen next.

But it did not happen that way at all. Yes, I heard the sounds of kissing followed by the various unbuttoning, unhooking and unzipping of their clothing. But the moans of pleasure which came next seemed very loud – as if they were standing right behind the bedroom door. And the sound of Sally's vibrator starting up right away was both out of sequence and startlingly loud, as was the gasp which I know my wife only makes when a man first slides his penis into her. What the hell was going on in there?

That night, Sally would tell me that as soon as they were undressed Ted brought her to the side of the bed closest to the door, turned on her vibrator and handed it to her, and the moment she touched her clit with it he stood between her legs, held them apart and started fucking her. They were no more than three feet from me; her lover holding her naked thighs while he stood beside the bed and fucked my wife. But all I knew at the time was that the sounds were not in the proper order, they were louder than ever and... they were mutual. For every gasp that Ted made, Sally responded with one of her own. As his got louder and more rapid, so did hers. In the past they had always, in Ted's words, "Taken turns making each other cum," so all the sex noises I heard this time left me puzzled and hard as a rock.

Suddenly, quiet. Only the buzzing of my wife's vibrator led me to believe that they were not done, but all the moaning and moving stopped as if they were holding their breath. Of course, that is exactly what they were doing; it is what Sally always does when she is about to cum. I realized that was what was happening only when I heard my wife cry out with a huge orgasm, followed just seconds later by Ted cumming just as hard. Sally has only cum a few times in her life while fucking – all of them with Ted – and the realization that each of them was feeling something I have never felt filled me with sorrow and loneliness as it drove me to the edge of an orgasm. I fought back the urge to cum, knowing that my horniness is the only thing that makes it possible for me to enjoy the erotic humiliation of being cuckolded, and knowing that my wife's simultaneous orgasm with her lover would require all the horniness I could muster.

Their cries of pleasure went on for a long time, gradually subsiding into gentle moans and occasional gasps. I pictured him still inside her, softening in the afterglow of his orgasm and occasionally receiving – and giving – little aftershocks of cumming as the last of his semen dripped into her womb. Then I heard the sounds of them moving around, and the sheet being moved. Again, only later would I learn that after Ted got soft and slipped out of Sally's pussy, he got in bed with her and cuddled for the next hour.

That resting-up time is always difficult for me, and I was suddenly very glad I had resisted the incredibly strong urge to cum. Without the sounds of sex coming from inside the bedroom, and with their conversation muffled sufficiently for me to be unable to make out what they are saying, that time is lonely, frustrating and humiliating for me. I passed the time thinking about what I had heard, about how "that man" made my wife cum just as he came, and how they each enjoyed their own pleasure coupled – literally – with the pleasure they felt in their partner at the same moment. I replayed their moaning, their gasping and that pregnant (!?) silence which preceded their orgasms. I thought of what it must feel like to cum in my wife, as more than half a year ago I gave up trying to remember what it felt like the last time Sally let me cum in her. I sat in the hallway and stroked my penis, recognizing that no one else would ever touch it; no one else would ever make it feel like my wife made Tom's penis feel just moments ago.

Quiet conversation turned into kissing, which turned into gasps of breath, which turned into moans again. Then Sally's quick intake of breath, announcing to anyone listening that her lover's sex organ had just entered her body again. This time, at least, was a "traditional" fuck (disregarding the obvious exception that the wife's husband was locked out and the wife was loudly and publicly fucking another man) – Ted got excited, he started to pant, and then he let out a constricted, desperate bleat, "I'm cumming!" Sally gasped out encouragement to him, and she kissed him as he squirted his semen into her. Then it was her turn, and soon after the vibrator started up, I heard her whimper and the mattress beat rhythmically, as it always does when her body launches upward and downward during her orgasm.

Shortly after their second time making love, I heard Sally say, "I'm hungry. Let's have lunch and say hi."

She emerged first, wearing the beautiful, mostly-sheer robe she had worn the night before. It was open in the front, so her skin was exposed in a line from her neck to her pubic hair. What was covered by the robe was BARELY covered; her nipples stuck out proudly through the see-through material, and the parts of her breasts that were not exposed completely were still semi-visible through the robe.

My first reaction upon seeing her was – I swear – to say, "Cover yourself up, we're not alone here." Goes to show how powerful denial is: I KNEW they had just been fucking, I KNEW they had taken off everything they were wearing as soon as they closed the bedroom door, but since I had not seen it with my own eyes, there was a part of me which refused to believe that my wife would expose herself to another man!

As quickly as I had the "cover yourself" thought, I had a crushing revelation: if she had covered herself at all, it was for ME. Ted had already seen everything – even things I have not seen in a long, long time – and the robe was for the sake of propriety when they ("they" being the loving couple, not the husband and wife) made a public appearance. It was one of those moments which took my breath away, as I came face to face with the fact of my cuckolding.

All of those thoughts happened in the space of a second. As she walked by me she smiled a smile of genuine happiness and said, "Two times each. So far." If you have read my Diary since the early days, you will understand how awesome it is to hear my Good Girl wife brag about how many times her lover made her cum, and how many times she made him cum. She was so pleased with herself!

Speaking of face to face: after Sally walked by me on her way to the bathroom, Ted sat on the edge of the bed, facing me. He had put on his shirt but had not buttoned it, so it hung open on both sides. He started to tell me how exciting my wife is and what a good time they had, but honestly, I cannot remember a single word he said. I was completely focused – probably to the point of being rude – on his penis, which was hanging between his legs, still semi-hard, mocking me without a word being said.

Here was the penis which just fucked my wife. Twice.

Here was the penis which just came in my wife. Twice.

Here was the penis which just ejaculated its semen into my wife, where it would swim around for the next two days or so.

Here was the penis which brought Ted so much pleasure that I heard him cry out in ecstasy. Twice.

As he talked, it bobbed slightly up and down. Staring at the head, I thought about how that is the most sensitive part and how this man had just slid it into my wife so she could get him off. No shame on his part, no apology, no explanation: After fucking my wife three feet away from me, he sat there and chatted with me as if it were my job to just sit there and not object, or stop him, or attack him.

Of course, he was right. I was not going to do any of those things, because there was one other thought which rushed through me as I stared at his naked penis:

Here was the ONE penis my wife wants to touch, and kiss, and have inside her. The ONLY one. She doesn't want mine, she doesn't get wet for mine, she doesn't touch mine. Only THIS one.

The one that makes her smile.

So I sat on my little rolling seat, masturbating like a madman, while Sally's lover – legs spread, penis pointing to the floor just in front of me – chatted with me about how great my wife is in bed. Now, a week later, I wish I could get the image of his cock out of my mind. But it won't go away. And Sally keeps telling me how much she misses it.

When they sat down to lunch, I dutifully served their salads and drinks. But I realized I could not eat. My stomach was in a knot, and there was no way I could put food into it. Besides, I needed – not wanted, but NEEDED – to keep masturbating. I don't know whether it was my overwhelming excitement or my overwhelming shame, but either way I felt I could not let go of my cock long enough to take even a single bite. I asked if they would mind if I sat in the corner and kept jerking off; Sally laughed and said, "Knock yourself out."

They ate lunch and talked about all sorts of everyday things. You would never know they were lovers unless you noticed Sally's nipples poking through her robe or saw that Ted we wearing a shirt but nothing else. And you would never know that Sally was cuckolding her husband unless you noticed me, sitting naked in the corner, masturbating every time they touched each other's hand or just closed their eyes to savor their time together. By late afternoon I would have a splitting headache from not eating, but for the time being I was lucky I remembered to breathe every once in a while.

After lunch they got up from the table and returned to their bedroom without so much as a word for me. I was able to listen as they fucked again and Sally came again with her vibrator, but the morning's passion had given way to afternoon mellowness for both of them. Not long after Sally's body beat against the mattress in her third orgasm, I heard them getting out of bed and dressing. Not wanting to be too intrusive, I returned to the chair in the living room, though I was still unable to give up masturbating.

Ted emerged, washed his hands and face, and came out to get his briefcase to leave. Seeing me in the corner, he smiled and sat down on the couch opposite me. He didn't have long, he explained, but he did want me to know that he had a WONDERFUL time with my wife and hoped to see her again soon. "It's so hard to wait a whole month before feeling her charms again," he said. Then, realizing whom he was talking to he added, "But of course, you know that, don't you?"

I grunted that I did, and I asked him about their simultaneous orgasms.

"That was an unexpected surprise for both of us. When we got undressed I just HAD to be inside her, so I stood next to the bed, held her thighs apart, and started fucking her. She grabbed her vibe and started playing with herself, and we both got lost in what was happening. From where I was standing I could see her whole body naked and open in front of me, and the position gave me access deep inside her. I was just having a wonderful time fucking her when she got VERY excited VERY quickly, and then she came. As soon as her marvelous body started contracting around me, it was impossible for me not to cum. You know that feeling...

"Oh, wait. No, you don't, do you? Has she ever cum with you inside her?"

I managed to squeak out a tiny "no" as the humiliation flooded over me.

"That IS too bad. It is an incredible feeling. But so is everything else we do together, so thank you for bringing her to me again. You know, we both really do appreciate all you do to make it possible for us to be together."

As if on cue, Sally walked out of the bedroom, stood beside Ted and he put his arm around her waist. Yet another unexpected event as Sally, whether out of politeness or Good Girl modesty, has always stayed in the bedroom while Ted talked to me after their dates. She knows he tells me what happened, and she knows he goes into the kind of gynecological detail which gets me off, so that has always been 10 minutes or so which she would use to dress or put on makeup or take a quick nap. But now she stood beside him – both completely dressed, lovers arm in arm, while her husband sat naked in a chair in the corner, masturbating and on the edge of cumming.

Sally thanked Ted for a wonderful day, and they took out their calendars to schedule their next date. Perfectly normal conversation between lovers who had satisfied each other and who were basking in the afterglow of a good time and great sex. From time to time I would groan or shudder and my wife of 25 years would look at me, pull Ted closer, and giggle.

When they were done with their calendars and kissed each other goodbye, Sally told me to "put that away; it's time to leave."

The ride home was quiet and nice. Sally thanked me for letting her have a lover, and from time to time she made comments about sex, or cumming, or cuckolding me. But we left the details for later, when I could concentrate without driving off the road. When we got home we each had to head to work, so Sally said goodbye to me with a kiss on the cheek and a reminder: "When you see me tonight, his sperm will still be swimming inside me."

Those words, and the smile on her face when she said them, kept me horny all evening. Of course, the fact that I had not cum in three days and had just witnessed my own cuckolding helped a little, too.

At home that night, we each got a drink and sat together on the couch. We talked about the work part of our day, and then the conversation turned to the date. Sally described how exciting it was to have Ted stand next to the bed and fuck her, which he had never done before, and how the anticipation and the position and feeling him inside her had pushed her over the edge so quickly. She said she loved cumming with him inside her, and added it was just one of the things which she always missed when she and I had sex.

The rest of the conversation focused on the things he does that I never did, the way she feels that I never made her feel, and his incredible skill at lovemaking which I lack completely. As she landed blow after blow on my ego (I was not masturbating as we talked, so there was nothing to shield me from the sting of her words, although they did give me an incredible hardon), I looked at her face to see if she was playing a game or saying what she thought she was supposed to say for me. But there was nothing of that: she spoke honestly, openly and yes, lovingly to me as she told me about her date.

There was just one more question which I had to ask, and I waited until she was done with her story before bringing it up.
As I said at the beginning of this story, the week after that date marked our 25th wedding anniversary. It is unbelievable to both of us that we have known each other so long, and that our wedding actually took place a quarter-century ago. We have been reminiscing for the past few weeks; we have a small celebration planned for our anniversary day and a larger one this summer. Several weeks ago, Sally said that she wanted to reserve the right to have sex with me if she ever wanted to; the subject came up out of nowhere, and it surprised me when she said it, but I said the choice was always hers. She did not bring it up again, but I had a suspicion that her focus was on our anniversary day. If ever there was a reason for us to have sex again, they don't come much more monumental than a 25th anniversary!

So after she finished telling me all about her date with her lover, I took Sally's hand, held it gently, and asked, "What do you want to do next week?"
"About what?" she asked, clearly not getting my subtle reference.

"About our anniversary, and sex."

"I really don't know," she replied.

"Well, what do you WANT?" I asked. It was strange to feel that she had all the power in this conversation, but it felt good, too.

"What I WANT is for you to make me feel the way Ted does in bed."

So much for feeling good. I sat there in silence, holding her hand but not having any idea what to say next.

"But since you can't," she finally continued, "I don't want to do anything. I'm looking forward to our anniversary, and I don't want to ruin it with bad sex. Okay?"

I wish you could have seen her face when she said that. For years we have strived to be honest with each other; it is how our marriage has survived and even thrived. Right there, sitting on our couch as we talked about our 25th anniversary and her lover's sperm swam inside her body, my wife was completely, totally, absolutely honest with me. And today, as I finish this story on our anniversary day, I know that writing about this is the only sexual stimulation I will get. It has been one year, 3 months and 16 days since my wife has touched me in a sexual way, and if she didn't change her mind today there is very little chance she will change it any time soon.

I have always thought that a successful cuckold marriage requires two people who love each other deeply, are fully committed to each other, and who understand that sexual satisfaction will be found in one partner's pleasure and the other's pain. Others may disagree with my description, but that day's events and that night's conversation confirmed what I believe and made me grateful that I am married to such a beautiful, loving, cuckolding wife.

Oh, and yesterday she started something new in honor of our anniversary. When she holds me she says, "I love almost all of you."

Comments welcome. Flames cheerfully ignored.
Cuckold Paul

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