Cuckold's Diary 41 - "On the Same Page"

[Paul_Pines]

Dear OHW Denizens,

Sorry it's been so long since I posted. Things have been good, and I've tried not to write the "same old, same old" thing. I think recent events are new enough to warrant a new chapter, so please let me know your thoughts.

With deepest respect for everyone here,

Sincerely,

Cuckold Paul
**************************
A Cuckold’s Diary, Chapter 41
“On the Same Page”
March 2013

We were in bed, cuddling and kissing, about a week before Sally’s date in February with her lover, Ted. Out of the blue she said, “What do you want to see this time?”

No context, no discussion which led up to the question, so I replied as only someone with as many years of schooling as I have could answer: “Huh?”

“Every date you ask to see one thing. So what do you want to see this time?”

Even being caught off balance, my answer was immediate: “I’d really like you to pull down his pants in the living room, before you go to bed with him, and suck his cock in front of me.”

Okay, some background here...

After Sally and Ted’s date in October, he went in for a second round of prostate surgery (sorry folks, the difference between fantasy and reality is that reality isn’t always sexy). Nothing cancerous, thank God, but enough of a problem that he had to deal with it. And contrary to the glowing promises of his doctor, his recovery was slow and difficult. January was the first time he felt up to a date with my wife.

When we/they got together in January, it was a different feeling than usual. Ted sat talking with Sally for a long time on the living room couch, catching up and, it seemed, working up to sex. Nothing overt, but it seemed they were both being gentle; as an observer it appeared my wife wanted her lover to do just what he was comfortable doing, and nothing more. When they got up to go to bed I sat quietly in my chair; it didn’t feel right to intrude into their relationship at that moment.

They didn’t call me in while they were in bed together; they didn’t include me in any way. I heard Sally’s pocket rocket start up, and a while later I heard her cum. Then I heard him make the noises he makes when my wife is making him feel good, but I could not tell anything about what they were doing. Eventually his moans and gasps increased in volume and intensity, and I heard him cum – but without the banging of the bed which usually accompanies him fucking her. Bottom line, I had no idea what had happened, but I was surprisingly okay with that.

As I sat outside the bedroom door that day, I realized that what mattered at the moment was… THEM. Ted had gone through a difficult time, and my wife was helping him feel good about himself and feel like a man again. Much as I wanted to be included, I understood that what they were doing was important to them – to Sally and Ted, who began their relationship almost 16 years ago, and who had stayed together through good times and bad. My role was to shut up and accept that my wife has a *relationship* with her lover: not just fucking, but caring. This was a time for caring, and it did not include me.

I was completely fine with this.

Over the years, Sally has tried to teach me that “it’s not always about you” – not only in terms of her fucking Ted, but in life in general. She has been both my rock and my biggest critic, reminding me that the world does not revolve around me and me alone. It’s been one of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned, and I am grateful to her for teaching this to me – with love and, at times, with pointed criticism. But at that moment, while I sat outside their bedroom door and masturbated while my wife gave pleasure to her lover, I took great pride in understanding that this time, this moment, was for THEM, not for me. He needed her, and she was there for him. And I was satisfied to sit outside the bedroom door and jerk off while my wife helped her lover feel good about himself again.

When Ted emerged from the bedroom he was dressed and ready to leave. He had to get to a meeting, so we knew he would not have long to spend with her, and certainly not with me. But before he left he told me that Sally had given him one of the most amazing blowjobs of his life, and he had cum in her mouth. He talked about her oral skills for a good five minutes, sitting on the couch while I sat on the chair opposite him and masturbated. Yes, it was exciting to hear about my wife sucking his cock, but I was even happier to hear that my wife had made him cum – his first orgasm since his surgery.

If you’re not a cuckold, you will never understand how happy I was that my wife made Ted cum that day. Or how proud I was of myself, for understanding that it wasn’t about me, and that my role that day was to shut up, stay out of the way, and let my wife help her lover feel good about himself. When Sally came out, ten minutes after Ted left, she too was dressed and ready to go. I stuffed my erection into my pants and drove my wife home.

We did not talk much about what had happened, other than for Sally to confirm that he had helped her to cum, and that she had made him cum with her mouth. I left it there, and didn’t push – it simply wasn’t about me. But lest you think I’m simply a saint, I spent the next weeks downloading every porn video I could find of blowjobs, and imagining my wife sucking Ted to orgasm.

Thus my immediate response when Sally asked me, “What do you want to see this time?” before their next date. The rest of my answer requires yet a little more explanation.

When it was clear it would be a while before Sally and Ted’s next date after his surgery, I asked her to explore MY side of cuckolding with me. Especially as we approached November 20th, which marked the seventh anniversary of the day she had asked me if we could stop having sex, my submissive side reared its (ugly?) head and demanded to be noticed.

As has been our practice for several years, when Sally wants to get off between dates I sit on the floor on the far side of our bed and masturbate while I talk to her about her dates with Ted. From that position we can speak easily, but I can’t see or touch her – again, at her request. Usually I give her images of her fucking him, of him getting her off, or whatever seems to turn her on at that moment. But beginning in late October I asked if she could try getting off on what *I* think about when I jerk off – namely, the pain and humiliation of being cuckolded by them. She said she’d give it a try, and true to her word, she did.

[Warning: the following thoughts are those of a cuckold. If you do not get off on cuckolding, you will find them strange. If cuckolding offends you, you will find them offensive. Proceed at your own risk!]

From late October until their date in late January, Sally’s masturbation sessions were “illustrated” by my descriptions of how I felt when she was with Ted. I described the shame of making hotel reservations for her and her lover, and of making sure we got a suite so there would be a place for me to sit and play with myself while they went to bed together, without me. I tried to describe how it feels to make the hotel bed in the morning, after we have slept in it and before Ted arrives to take my place in it. I explained the humiliation of her asking me to check her breasts for stray hairs, so they would be perfect for HIM each time.

I told her, even though it was difficult to get the words out, that when Ted arrives it feels like there is only one man in the room. One man, one woman… and a cuckold. I described the knot in my stomach as I watch them sit on the couch and make out – deep, passionate kisses, hands roaming over each other’s bodies, sharp intakes of breath as nerves are triggered. I talked about how it feels to see her stand up and take her lover’s hand as he leads her away from me, into the bedroom. How it feels to sit on a chair outside the door and jerk off while listening to the sounds of passion, the sounds of lovemaking, the sounds of sex coming from the bedroom – their bedroom. And how it feels to sit there, stroking the penis she has rejected, when I hear each of them orgasm in each other’s arms… when I hear Ted orgasm in my wife’s body.

“I don’t feel like a man,” I told her. “And I don’t understand how you can think of me as a man, either. At least, not when it comes to sex.”

Now, whether you can tell it or not, my wife loves me. She loves me very, very much. Long after she accepted that I got off on her fucking Ted, she still had trouble hurting me. Oh, she reached the point years ago where she could take him to bed, and even close the door so I couldn’t watch, but crossing the line to SAYING hurtful things, or even saying something to acknowledge that what she was about to do would hurt me, has always been difficult – even impossible – for her. She has taken steps in that direction over the years, and I’ve probably written about every one in one or another chapter of this Diary, but this never came easy to her. So when, after a few such masturbation sessions, she got very excited and blurted out, “Oh God, you’re NOT a man. HE is!” just as she came thinking about Ted fucking her and me playing with my impotent little penis, I felt we had crossed a line. I also came my brains out.

We kissed and cuddled after she finished cumming, and I thanked her profusely. I asked her if she was all right with what had happened, and she said she was. I asked if we could do that again and she responded – enthusiastically – “Absolutely!”

And we did, for the rest of the three months until their date. Each time we “played,” I sat on the floor and narrated her dates from my perspective: the shame, the pain AND the excitement of everything she did with him. I told her that these are the things I think about when I masturbate alone, too: every video I watch, I picture HER in it with HIM… and I picture myself as the camera, being given the humiliating thrill of watching two people having really good sex together. She told me I didn’t always have to think about her when I jerked off, that she wouldn’t be insulted, but I explained that I don’t do it for her; I do it for ME. After years of me saying it, she finally came to understand my feeling that I was born to be a cuckold, that my place during sex is outside the closed door, listening to a man and a woman. And what makes the experience complete for me is when that man and woman agree with me.

So after almost 31 years of marriage, half of that cuckolding me and more than seven years of her being exclusively, sexually Ted’s other than one mercy fuck a year on our anniversary, Sally started to agree with me. She understood that when it comes to sex I am not a man, I am a cuckold.

Which led to “the question,” and my complete answer.

“What do you want to see this time?”

“Huh?”

“Every date you ask to see one thing. So what do you want to see this time?”

“I’d really like you to pull down his pants in the living room, before you go to bed with him, and suck his cock in front of me. I’d like you to show me how you treat a man – a real man. How you make him feel good – feel like a man. How you get him excited and hard. How you get him ready to fuck you. I don’t know if that’s asking too much, but it’s what I’d really like to see.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” she answered, and kissed me again.

I looked at her face. I can read my wife pretty well, and I can tell when she’s “being nice” as opposed to being genuine. What I saw was love, and a little bit of mischief. Could my request really be okay with her? More astonishing, could she have LIKED the thought?

The subject didn’t come up again as we made our way through the week. Einstein was right – time DOES slow down as we approach her dates. But Monday night finally arrived and we drove to Pennsylvania. We checked into the hotel and had a normal evening together, if “normal” includes me sitting in bed and thinking every five seconds about another man fucking my wife in that bed in the morning.

Our morning ritual has been described in many earlier chapters of my Diary, so I will mention only one thing. After she showered she called to me to inspect her breasts for stray hairs, as usual. But as I was examining the skin of my wife’s tits she said, “Why don’t you ever stop me? Why didn’t you ever stop me?”

It was one of the most difficult questions I’ve ever been asked, but I thought I knew the answer.

“Because I can’t offer you anything better than Ted, or even equal to what he gives you.”

“Okay,” she responded. But her answer left me thinking.

I went into the living room. Ted texted that he was caught in traffic, and would be another half hour. I called to Sally and asked if it would be okay if I played with myself for a little while, and she said she didn’t care. So I pulled down my pants, spread some Vaseline on my penis, and started jerking off.

I looked at the couch where they would sit, and kiss, and touch each other in a little while. I looked at the hallway leading to the bedroom - the bedroom where Ted would fuck my wife soon after he arrived. I saw the chair I would move to the hallway, to sit on while I listened to them fucking behind the closed door. And then the rest of the answer was clear.

“I don’t stop you because I’m not man enough,” I said.

Silence from the other room, then my wife’s voice.

“No, you’re not. I love you, but you’re not.”

I cannot describe the shame, the freedom, the release, the escape and the joy of hearing that my wife felt the same way about me as I did. If there is a more perfect illustration of unconditional love, I am at a loss to find it.

It was time for her date with her lover.

I jumped up to open the door as soon as Ted knocked. He blew past me without even a hello, and leaned over to kiss my wife before taking off his coat. The moment their lips touched, his right hand found Sally’s left breast through her velour pajama top. Not a question about her husband; not even a thought. They kissed and he felt her up for a few minutes, then Sally suggested he take off his coat and stay a while.

He handed me his coat, which I dutifully hung in the closet. When I returned they were sitting side by side, arms around each other. His hand hadn’t left her breast, and her hand was casually drawing circles around his crotch. They talked for a while, never letting go; since I never know the proper etiquette concerning whether to participate in their casual conversations or not, I basically shut up unless directly addressed.

I remembered how long they talked on their previous date, so I sat back to see what would happen. It wasn’t more than 10 minutes before Sally told Ted to stand up, and as soon as he did she unbuckled his belt, unzipped his zipper and slid his pants and underwear to his ankles. She dove for his cock – there’s no other word for it – and started licking and sucking him. Ted gasped as his organ started to grow in her mouth, then he gave me a look which was half ecstasy and half amusement and said, “You’ll NEVER know how good this feels.”

In no time he was hard. When his cock was sticking straight out from his groin Sally took her mouth off him with a “pop,” looked at him, then at me, then back to his cock and said, “Look what I did!!”

Neither of us had time to formulate an answer before she swallowed his whole cock again and he shook with pleasure.

Sally looked up at Ted’s face and started to say something. I was sure she was going to say it was time to go to bed, but to my surprise she told him to sit back on the couch. As he did, she turned to face him and bent over to take his cock back in her mouth. She was facing away from me now, and it was difficult for me to see what was happening, so with no thought for my own dignity I asked them if I could move around to the other side to get a better view. “It’s fine with me,” she said. His answer was some sort of sound indicating that he didn’t give a damn what I did as long as my wife kept sucking his cock, so I took that as a “yes.”

There was no chair on that side of the couch, so I sat on the floor. I was still fully dressed, but my own erection was poking out through my pants – not that my wife would have noticed if it was a foot long, which it most definitely is not. I was two feet from them – more accurately, two feet from the intersection of Ted’s cock and my wife’s mouth – and I saw… everything.

I had asked my wife to show me how she treats a man – a real man – and she did. I saw her lick the underside of Ted’s cock, from the base to the tip, and I saw it jerking up and down as she did. I saw her run her tongue around the head of his cock, again and again, and I heard the “uh-uh-uh-uh” of pleasure which her tongue elicited from her lover. I saw her open her mouth and push down to his pubic hair, closing her lips around the base of his cock when she got there. I watched her draw her lips up, up, up in a concentrated effort to touch and trigger every nerve along the shaft of his cock, and I saw him spasm with pleasure as she fucked him with her mouth.

From my vantage point I could see it all, including how hard he was getting. As she drew her lips along his shaft I saw every blood vessel outlined clearly, so filled with blood that they were popping out of the sides of his cock. As she licked the head I saw it swell and turn a dark purple. And as I stared, I realized she was staring at me.

When my eyes caught hers she started all over again. Licking the underside, running her tongue around the head, taking his whole cock into her mouth and sucking on it… and staring at me.

“She wants me to see this,” I thought. “She’s not just doing it with me here; she’s showing me. She’s hurting me and she knows it!”

The image of my wife’s beautiful eyes, looking at me while her mouth was filled with Ted’s penis, was one I will never, ever forget.

“I hated doing this with you,” she said, never taking her eyes off me and swallowing his entire cock again.

Ted cried out his pleasure, and my head spun.

I pulled my attention away from my wife’s mouth and looked up at Ted. He was looking at me and laughing – at least as much as a man can laugh while getting a blowjob.

“How do you feel, watching your wife suck my cock so wonderfully?” he asked, although it didn’t actually sound like that. It sounded more like, “How do OH you feel, watOOOHching your wife UNNGGH suck my cockkkkk?”

I thought about my answer for a minute, and as I did Ted jerked as if a jolt of electricity had gone through him. My wife wasn’t pausing for anything, least of all me.

“I’m ashamed of myself,” I confessed.

“I don’t blame you,” he taunted. “She’s SO good at sucking my cock, and you’ll never know how this feels.

“But you’re excited, too – aren’t you? You’re excited to sit here and watch your wife give me a blowjob,” he taunted.

“Yes, I am,” I answered softly.

“Are you more ashamed, or excited?” he continued. I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation with a man while my wife had his cock in her mouth, and was clearly enjoying herself – and him.

“They’re the same. I’m ashamed, but I’m excited that my wife is doing this to you – and to me.”

“They are the same for you, aren’t they? You like seeing my cock in your wife’s mouth, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted. “I do.”

“You do WHAT?” he demanded, continuing his humiliation of me.

I took a breath, felt my erection trying to rip its way out of my pants, and I said, “I like seeing your cock in my wife’s mouth. I’m ashamed and excited by it.”

As if on cue, she swallowed him again. He bucked and fell back from the intense pleasure and I looked into my wife’s eyes. There I saw love… and disappointment. I was watching her get her lover ready to fuck her, and all I could do was get hard and admit I was excited.

She turned to Ted and said, “Please take me to bed now.”

Without a word he stood up, pulled his pant up just enough to be able to walk without tripping, and with his erection pointing the way, walked to the bedroom.

Sally stood up, walked over to me and bent over to kiss me as I sat on the floor. Just before our lips met she said, “Remember where my mouth has been,” and kissed me hard and deep. Before I could even catch a breath she was gone, the bedroom door clicking shut behind her.

No worries, my love. I’ll remember where your mouth has been. You’re pretty unforgettable, no matter what you’re doing.

When the door closed, I found myself alone, hard, sitting on the living room floor. My mind was reeling from the past 20 minutes, and I was unable to stand up for a while. I sat there thinking about what I had just seen and heard, and looking down the hallway at the closed door, behind which my wife was going to bed with her lover. It wasn’t until I heard her moan – through the door and down the length of the hallway – that I was able to pull myself together enough to get to my feet.

I pulled off my pants and underwear, dragged a chair to the door, laid down a towel, spread Vaseline on my cock and sat down outside THEIR door to jerk off while they made love. As soon as I approached the door I heard the sound of Sally’s pocket rocket, and when I sat down I heard Ted talking to my wife. I can never hear what he is saying, but I hear him talking to her, encouraging her, as she holds her vibrator on her clit. Her gasps and moans increased, then she went silent… then she came.

I heard my wife – my partner for over 30 years, the mother of my children, the woman I love more than life itself – orgasm in her lover’s arms. There is no way to transcribe the sounds of her orgasm; all I can say is that she left no question in my mind that she had given herself to Ted and allowed him to guide her to the ultimate pleasure. I thought of all the times we were at home together, her using her vibrator and me sitting on the floor talking to her about sex with her lover, when she would say, “I wish Ted was here to get me over.” Now he was here, and she was here, and I could only listen and play with myself as he “got her over.”

I kept myself from cumming as I listened, and I thought about how pathetic I was to sit there and jerk off while another man made my wife cum. Even more powerful, I told myself that HE and SHE both felt that way, too. They knew I was right outside the door; they knew I could hear; they knew I was rubbing my penis while I listened; and yet, at that moment there was nothing in the world but her, and him, and… sex.

Her question echoed in my head: “Why don’t you stop me? Why didn’t you ever stop me?”

I rubbed my incredibly hard cock and knew I had answered correctly the second time: “Because I’m not enough of a man.” I nearly came as I thought about her response: “No, you’re not. I love you, but you’re not.”

Her aftershocks seemed to go on forever. Only the sound of Ted sucking in his breath made me realize that the focus had changed from her pleasure to his. I didn’t know what they were doing – what SHE was doing to him – but I knew she was making him feel very, very good.

I sat outside the bedroom door as Ted’s gasps turned into moans and his moans turned into cries of passion. I couldn’t tell you whether they went on for five minutes or fifteen; all I know was that my wife turned him on and excited him until he couldn’t hold back anymore. I sat there and rubbed while my wife made Ted cum, and there was no part of his orgasm which could have been mistaken for anything but intense, ultimate pleasure. I SAT THERE AND JERKED OFF WHILE MY WIFE MADE ANOTHER MAN CUM, and all I could think, as I strained to keep from cumming myself, was that this was… RIGHT. Sex was for him, and for her… and not for me. I felt it, and even behind the closed door I knew they felt it, too. We all knew that I’m not man enough for sex.

I thought they were done, but I was wrong. They weren’t done… at least they weren’t done with me.

Ted’s cries had barely died down when I heard Sally call my name. I waited to see if she was going to say anything else – that she wanted me to bring them a drink, for example – but I didn’t hear another word. Tentatively, I opened the bedroom door and asked what she wanted.

She didn’t say anything, but what she wanted was clear: she wanted to show me what she was doing and what she had just done. As I opened the door I saw my wife – my naked wife – lying on top of Ted. Her legs were spread around his hips, his cock was in her pussy, and she was rocking back and forth, driving him deeper and deeper into her body.

The last time I had seen them, they were walking toward the bedroom together. The last time I saw Ted’s cock, it was hard and pointing toward my wife’s pussy as they walked. Now I saw them again: naked, in bed, with that same cock sliding in and out of her pussy as she fucked him.

I couldn’t breathe. The scene said it all. Sally – my wife, my loving wife – called me in to show me that she was fucking Ted; to show me what she did to him that made him cry out as he came. She had showed me how she got him ready to fuck her, now she wanted to show me what fucking looked like.

I moved to the bottom of the bed to see… it. To see fucking. To see Ted’s sex in my wife’s sex. Then I moved back to the side of the bed to watch them kissing and caressing and sharing tender words as his cock gradually softened and slipped out of her. I saw it flop onto his leg and thought to myself that that was one of the most obscene things I’ve ever seen. And Sally wanted me to see it.

My wife wanted me to see her continuing to fuck him after he came, and she wanted me to see his spent cock – the cock she made so incredibly hard just a little while ago – flop out of her pussy, it’s mission (emission?) accomplished. MY WIFE WANTED ME TO SEE THAT.

When he slipped out of her she kissed him and rolled off him, lying on her back beside him. She looked at me standing there, jerking my cock like I was trying to pull it off, and she spread her legs, draping her left leg over him. She laid there for a minute, giving me a view of her whole body - naked, open… for HIM. Then she said, “Put your finger in me – ONE finger. I want you to feel how wet I am for him.”

She never asked me to do that before. NEVER. Even when she was in bed with him, she had always drawn a physical line, a boundary, between me and them. In fact, the one time she reached out to hold my hand while she was cuddling with him stands out as one of the most erotic moments of my life… and that was just holding her HAND. But here she was, lying naked in front of me, with her naked lover pressed up against her side and her leg thrown across his body, asking me – no, TELLING me – to put my finger in her to see how wet she was for him.

If you’ve read the other chapters of my Diary, you know that this has been a central element of my cuckolding: long before Sally could verbalize any of her feelings for Ted or describe how he turns her on, we all knew that she has never needed any artificial lubrication for him to fuck her. And we all also knew that she was never able to fuck me without a generous application of Vaseline to my penis. Amazingly, and humiliatingly, even after she came with me her pussy would still be too dry for me to enter her – or even slip my finger into her.

And now she wanted to show me how wet she was for HIM.

Back to the harsh reality of Ted’s prostate problem: he doesn’t actually ejaculate much these days. He says his orgasms still feel as good as they ever did (and it sure sounds like they do), but he longs for the “good old days” when he could hit the wall with his cum. I mention this only because what I felt when I touched my finger to Sally’s pussy lips was mostly her… and she was WET. Based on my own experience I assumed I’d need to lick my finger to get it in, but I was wrong. My finger slid right in; she was wet on the outside and wet on the inside, and as I felt it I groaned and nearly came.

“Does it turn you on to see how wet I get for a real man?” my wife asked me with a combination of love and dominance. I started to answer, but Ted answered for me.

“I think it turns him on more to have his finger in your pussy after I came in you, than it would if he was trying to fuck you. Look at your husband’s face – the face of a cuckold.”

Sally smiled and kissed him, then said, “Am I wet? Can you feel how wet he makes me?”

“Yes,” I croaked. “You’re wet. You’re really wet.”

“That’s for HIM,” she said, and kissed him again.

“Th- thank you for letting me feel you,” I said, barely able to get the words out.

“I wanted you to see, to feel… to KNOW – how a MAN makes me feel,” she said. I had never heard her talk to me like this, and I looked to see if it was making her uncomfortable. All I saw was pleasure: pleasure in being in Ted’s arms, pleasure kissing him as he continued to jerk and shake from the way she made him cum, and yes, pleasure in letting go and showing me how she felt about me as a man.

I looked in her eyes and saw love – and disappointment. I am so many things to her, but now she made it clear that I’m not a man.

HE is.

She told me to take my finger out of her, and I obeyed. I stood there masturbating as they kissed and hugged and cuddled for I don’t know how long. She caressed his arm and said, “I don’t think I’m up for another round today; I hope you don’t mind.”

His answer came with a kiss. “Not all passion involves penetration. I’d just like to lie here with you and enjoy the feeling of your body next to mine.”

She LOVED his response. Without a moment’s hesitation she turned her head to look at me and said, “GO AWAY. NOW.”

I mumbled something about being grateful to them for showing me sex, and I quickly backed out of their bedroom.

I closed the door and returned to my seat, beating off furiously as I thought about everything I had experienced. They stayed in bed for another half hour, then I heard Ted dressing to leave. I left the chair by the door and went back into the living room, where I continued to masturbate.

Ted emerged dressed, and sat down on the couch facing me. “Well?” he said.

I’ve long since gotten over my hesitation about jerking off in front of him after he’s fucked my wife; what am I worried about, my self-esteem? So I sat there, naked, and stroked myself while my wife’s lover sat and looked at me.

“I’m so ashamed,” I groaned.

“Oh, I’m sure of that. So what was the most shameful part for you?” he asked, as calmly as if we were discussing the day’s news.

“She hurt me, and she liked it. You laughed at me, and you liked it. You made each other feel good, and you both made me feel really, really bad… and you LIKED IT.”

“You know, it’s true,” he said. “She’s always sexual and sensual, but today she was playful, too. I have you to thank for that.”

“Me?” I asked, with genuine surprise.

“Oh yes! You’ve shown her that she can enjoy hurting you while she enjoys pleasuring me, and today I think she did that. She had FUN hurting you today, and I KNOW she had fun fucking me!”

I kept myself from falling over the edge and cumming when he said that, but it was close. When I regained enough of my composure to speak again I grunted, “You laughed at me while she sucked your cock. Even when you were shaking from the feeling of her mouth on you, you talked to me and laughed at me. Is that how YOU feel about me, too?”

Ted thought for a minute. I could see him evaluating the so-called man sitting in front of him, playing with the cock my wife has rejected for his.

“I think we’re all on the same page about you. You think you’re a sexual loser, and so does your wife. And so do I.

“Thank you for bringing her to me. That’s something you’re good at. See you next time I fuck her.”

And with that, he left.

I let Sally sleep for a while, then gently woke her when it was time to leave.

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as she woke up.

“Yes, my love. I’m great.”

“I hurt you today,” she said tentatively.

“Yes, you did. And I’m so grateful to you for that. I know it wasn’t easy, but it meant more to me than I can say.”

“What did you like best?”

“I liked when you looked at me and hurt me,” I confessed. “Ted just said that you were ‘playful’ today, and you had fun hurting me. I saw that, and I think it’s true.”

“It is true. I really had fun today – all of it,” she said more assertively.

“I told Ted that I was ashamed of myself, and he said he thought we were all on the same page about that,” I said as I gently caressed her arm.

“I think he’s right,” she said.

Our anniversary is coming up soon, and with it comes my once-a-year mercy fuck. A few days after their date I asked Sally how she felt about it. “I’m dreading it,” she said, “but I want to give that to you. I’ll also be relieved when it’s over for another year.”

Then she said, “I love you and I’m so grateful to be married to you. I love so many things about you… just not sex.” And with that, she hugged me and kissed me good-night.

We ARE on the same page.

**************
Comments welcome; flames cheerfully ignored.

Cuckold Paul
Newatthis22a@yahoo.com

[kidg1000]

Thanks so much for sharing this! I love your stories and following along with your adventures.

[tanda]

I've been following your story for some 14 years or so. I can't believe you're still going strong and still posting about it. Thank you as always for the updates. You three have a very special relationship and I'm glad that it's still working for you.

[cat31]

I've been following your story for some 14 years or so. I can't believe you're still going strong and still posting about it. Thank you as always for the updates. You three have a very special relationship and I'm glad that it's still working for you.

DITTO That!

Thanks for all you have done for me in my situation also.