u/pensive_epicure

I got together with Em when we were 23. It actually started great. She was fun and seriously hot (5'2' light brown hair, blue eyes, curvy but gym fit with the best ass I've ever had to this day).

We'd had the body count chat and I knew she'd been way with way more partners than me (30+) which made me pretty insecure. But we never got into specific names until one came up at a party.

A mutual friend joked with her about a guy called Mark and she blushed - I knew of him in my wider friendship group. He's a total dog and has been with a crazy amount of girls, including a lot of stunners. He's annoyingly good looking... tall, cheeky builder type with lots of tattoos. I took her to one side and asked if she'd slept with him, she said she had ages ago.

What annoyed me was I've met this guy on a few occasions with her there - shook his hand and chatted to him etc. Em never interacted with him in my presence and had never mentioned they'd had a fling. So I pressed her for more details back home.

She told me she used to really fancy him but he just used her as a booty call and would always hit her up when she ended things with another guy. It drove me mad thinking about him dropping a "Hey, you up?" text and her rushing over to be dicked down.

Couldn't stop thinking about how often he had her, what positions they did, where he came, how good he was in bed, whether he did her raw...

I couldn't drop the jealous feeling about this guy, even though she said they hadn't spoke for years. Every time I spoke to her, more details came out and it was clear they'd fucked on and off for years. I stalked his social media and he still liked all her pictures - unless I was in them!

Em usually kept a pretty tight grip on her phone, but one morning she showered and left it on charge. I quickly opened up her Instagram and went to her DMs. Mark was near the top, so it was obviously bullshit they never spoke. I didn't have long and found nothing incriminating but saw they reacted to all each other's stories and even sent reels and banter occasionally.

I had to bide my time but eventually got hold of her phone a second when she forgot to take it shopping one time. Sure enough, an archived WhatsApp chat with Mark. Unlike the Instagram chat, this was strictly business. Dates, times, and meeting places going all the way through our relationship. Looks like he'd been fucking her almost as much as I had.

To torture myself even more, I scrolled back to before our relationship. At this point they were fully chatting, messaging often. He'd send pics of his cock (yes, it was bigger than mine as I'm sure you'll want to know that) and she would send him lingerie pics. Lots of dirty chat and sexting, going back years. I was rock hard which made it all extra confusing.

I confronted her, and she cried and admitted it. Mark wasn't even the only one. Basically said she's a sex addict, couldn't help it etc... Sex was so much better and more special with me (lies anyway based on how much she came/gushed with Mark according to her messages). Obviously broke up with her. She's with another poor guy now - I wondered about warning him.

The most annoying thing is this experience essentially gave me a massive cuckold fetish. Don't know why but the idea of her cheating makes me insanely turned on. So not only did Mark literally cuckold me, it's his fault I'm close to getting my current girlfriend to do the same. Except at least I'd be involved this time.

I'll start. My wife cheated for a combination of reasons: sexual boredom (with me and my small endowment), a strong libido, the rush of being wanted and pursued by other men, the many easy opportunities presented by frequent business travel, and one particular tall, good looking, fit, confident, charming single stud with a cock twice my size and incredible skills with whom she experienced primal, animalistic sex and shattering orgasms.

In late March of this year, my husband was in consideration for a promotion. This is something that he’d been working towards for over a year at that point, pulling extra hours, taking on additional projects, kissing ass to his bosses, the whole nine yards.

Eventually, it came down to basically everybody knowing that it would come down to either him or this one other guy, who I’ll call Adam (obviously not his real name). I had met Adam before, he was the kind of guy who became a frat dude in college and never really lost that attitude. Lucky for him I kind of have a thing for asshole guys.

We met at a company event, and he was flirty with me from the beginning, only doubling down when he found out I am with my husband. In his words, he couldn’t figure out how my husband could pull me, and that he’d be looking for a chance to show me what I was missing out on being with him.

Long story short, Adam won the promotion, and instead of going to my husband’s room to surprise him that I was in town for their business trip as well, I went to Adam’s room and let him fuck me, cum in my pussy, mouth, and ass, and even on my wedding ring. I know that people on this sub don’t like posts to be too long so I wrote out the more detailed version if people are interested.

I want to preface this story with a few facts. my husband is a wonderful man in almost every single way. He’s a wonderful man, he’s the CEO of a big company, he’s an alpha male who loves me…he just also has a micropenis. Which for me, was fine. I had only been with two other men before him, and they had been decidedly average, so it didn’t bother me.

Fast forward to last week. I was on a work trip in Chicago. I was so stressed and just closed a huge work deal, so went to the hotel bar and got a glass of wine to celebrate. I’m sitting there, zoning out, when a man stopped next to me.

I tried to ignore him but he leaned in to say, “excuse me.” I looked up. He was tall, heavyset but still handsome. I was not in the mood for some guy flirting with me though so I was about to tell him off when he nodded at my chest.

”I’m so sorry, ma’am. I wanted to tell you, that, um, well, you’re breast…” he trailed off. I looked down and my entire boob was hanging out of my dress. I almost screamed, tried to pull my dress up, hit my wine glass so it fell over, spilling everywhere and managed to cover my boob.

Long story short, after I apologized profusely to both the bartender and the man, the man bought me another glass of wine and I don’t know why, but I let him. We moved to a table and sat together. He kept this intense eye contact the entire time we talked and finally he looked at my wedding ring.

“That’s a beautiful wedding ring,” he said.

“Thank you. my husband got it for me,” I answered cheekily. I was now two glasses of wine in. As a 5’0 woman, that’s more than enough to get me on the border of drunk.

“Is your husband here?”

I shook my head.

“I’d never let you leave the house if I was with you,” he continued.

“Why?” I asked, eyes narrowing. “Too jealous?”

”No. because I’d be fucking you constantly,” he said.

I almost spit out my wine.

Look, I’m not a prude by any means, but I’m not the most sexually adventurous woman either. I barely masturbate, my husband and I have sex once a month and most men in my life work for me and are also scared of me as a boss.

I could feel myself blushing. He leaned in.

“You‘d wake up every morning with my head between your beautiful thighs,” he said.

“Which head?” I asked, giggling.

Giggling. What was wrong with me?

”I know I’ve already seen your boob, and it was beautiful, but can I see your pussy?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know about that…” I started.

“I want you to show me. Now.” He growled the last word.

“Now?” I squeaked.

It was like an out of body experience. My hands were moving and my dress was lifting and people were around us as I pulled my panties aside and let a complete stranger look at my vagina. The most private part of my body. And I just had it out in the hotel lobby bar.

Before I could stop him, he rubbed his finger along my pussy. It felt electric. And in that moment, I needed him. I needed him to want me. To make me feel good.

“Let’s go to my room,” I whispered, almost out of breath.

Five minutes later, I was naked in my hotel room with a complete stranger‘s cock in my mouth. He was huge downstairs and it felt incredible. We fucked for over an hour. I orgasmed three times. The last time he insisted we try putting it my butt and I agreed, only to cum almost instantly.

I laid there, exhausted, as he came inside me. And just like that, he left. No number exchanged. No names. Nothing except the experience left.

And now I find myself on Reddit, wanting more…attention I guess? More men to want me? To feel desired Again? I don’t know. But the experience was one I’d never forget.

This is what I've learned from my wife, who cheated for years with a tall, fit, good looking, charming, confident guy who happened to have a very big cock: it did matter to her, for several reasons. Of course, just having a huge cock, but with no talent, no understanding of how to use it to please a woman, won't get a man far, but my wife's lover has both. She eventually admitted to being "in love" with his cock. She admired it aesthetically: the length, the girth, the big mushroom head (he's cut), the weight of it in her hand, the overall appearance. She referred to it as "gorgeous" and "impressive" and she loved worshiping it with her mouth. With his combination of size and sexual skills she regularly orgasmed from his penetration alone, which she had never experienced before, and apparently it was addicting. She would cum almost constantly while he was fucking her. Then there's the number and variety of positions that his size opened up. With his length he could easily fuck her while standing, from both the front and the back. He could achieve deep, orgasmic penetration when she was on all fours and he was plowing her from behind, whereas between her big ass and my 4.5" length I can barely get inside her at all. She could ride him in reverse cowgirl and cum hard without him slipping out. He could easily fuck her big DD tits and cum that way, whereas my cock just gets lost in there. So, though it defies the conventional wisdom, based on my real-life experience, for very practical reasons, size definitely *can* matter.

I \[M59\] found out a few years ago that my wife of 25+ years \[F57\], my high school sweetheart, the love of my life, had been getting the shit fucked out of her behind my back for years by a good looking single stud - a tall, hung ex-college football player who works for her company in another part of the country.

They first met at the company's big annual sales meeting, a three-day event at a resort in Florida. On the last night, after an awards banquet, my wife was with a large group of colleagues doing some celebratory drinking at one of the resort bars. She got introduced to him by a mutual friend and he started coming on to her right away, completely undeterred by her wedding ring and learning that she was married with a husband and two young kids at home. He was outgoing, confident, smooth, charming. She was flattered by his interest.

He bought her a Cosmo and continued flirting with her, and she started flirting back. He deftly maneuvered their conversation away from the group so they were now talking one on one. After her second Cosmo she was buzzed and becoming excited by his attention, by the direction their conversation was taking, by the possibilities. By this time he must have known she was ripe for plucking (and fucking). Eventually he suggested they go up to her room for "a nightcap" and without hesitating she said yes.

On the way to the elevators he pulled her behind some large tropical plants in the atrium lobby and kissed her passionately, and she kissed him back just as passionately. They rushed to the elevator and as soon as the door closed they resumed making out and groping each other. She later told me, "He kind of had me pinned against the back of the elevator. I could feel how turned on he was." They pretty much burst into her room, frantically pulled each others' clothes off, and fucked and sucked all night. She had never experienced sex like that before. Sex with a tall, muscular man with a very big cock who was very experienced and, apparently, very skilled. After that night she was literally addicted and kept going back for more, over and over for years.

When I found out I was totally shocked, hurt, enraged for a long time. I forced her to tell me every detail she could remember. I knew I could never even start to get past it until I knew everything. Once I found out his name I scoured the internet, social media and other sources for every scrap of information I could find about him, every photo, every fact, every woman he was associated with (there have been many), every mention of him anywhere. As a result I feel like I know him now, though he has no idea I found out.

Learning he's a tall, good-looking, well-hung alpha male, a notorious player who fucks lots of women besides my wife, has stirred these feelings of jealousy, envy, even admiration of him, especially given how easily and thoughtlessly he fucked my wife, how instantly, hopelessly attracted to him she was, how she didn't think twice about risking our marriage to ride his huge cock, not just once or twice but many times over many years. I don't consider myself bi, but this dynamic between him and me is very strange, intensely erotic, and powerfully humiliating.

Once I got over the initial shock of finding out, and my anger started to fade, I found myself jerking off constantly to all the details I had forced out of her, all the mental images that used to torture me. Now I wouldn't trade my experience for anything.

I [M59] found out a few years ago that my wife of 25+ years [F56], my high school sweetheart, the love of my life, had been getting the shit fucked out of her behind my back for years by a good looking single stud - a tall, hung ex-college football player who works for her company in another part of the country.

They first met at the company's big annual sales meeting, a three-day event at a resort in Florida. On the last night, after an awards banquet, my wife was with a large group of colleagues doing some celebratory drinking at one of the resort bars. She got introduced to him by a mutual friend and he started coming on to her right away, completely undeterred by her wedding ring and learning that she was married with a husband and two young kids at home. He was outgoing, confident, smooth, charming. She was flattered by his interest.

He bought her a Cosmo and continued flirting with her, and she started flirting back. He deftly maneuvered their conversation away from the group so they were now talking one on one. After her second Cosmo she was buzzed and becoming excited by his attention, by the direction their conversation was taking, by the possibilities. By this time he must have known she was ripe for plucking (and fucking). Eventually he suggested they go up to her room for "a nightcap" and without hesitating she said yes.

On the way to the elevators he pulled her behind some large tropical plants in the atrium lobby and kissed her passionately, and she kissed him back just as passionately. They rushed to the elevator and as soon as the door closed they resumed making out and groping each other. She later told me, "He kind of had me pinned against the back of the elevator. I could feel how turned on he was." They pretty much burst into her room, frantically pulled each others' clothes off, and fucked and sucked all night. She had never experienced sex like that before. Sex with a tall, muscular man with a very big cock who was very experienced and, apparently, very skilled. After that night she was literally addicted and kept going back for more, over and over for years.

When I found out I was totally shocked, hurt, enraged for a long time. I forced her to tell me every detail she could remember. I knew I could never even start to get past it until I knew everything. Once I found out his name I scoured the internet, social media and other sources for every scrap of information I could find about him, every photo, every fact, every woman he was associated with (there have been many), every mention of him anywhere. As a result I feel like I know him now, though he has no idea I found out.

Learning he's a tall, good-looking, well-hung alpha male, a notorious player who fucks lots of women besides my wife, has stirred these feelings of jealousy, envy, even admiration of him, especially given how easily and thoughtlessly he fucked my wife, how instantly, hopelessly attracted to him she was, how she didn't think twice about risking our marriage to ride his huge cock, not just once or twice but many times over many years. I don't consider myself bi, but this dynamic between him and me is very strange, intensely erotic, and powerfully humiliating.

Once I got over the initial shock of finding out, and my anger started to fade, I found myself jerking off constantly to all the details I had forced out of her, all the mental images that used to torture me. Now I wouldn't trade my experience for anything.

What details did you learn about her cheating, her cheat partner, their sexual hijinks, that you can't stop thinking about? What thoughts and mental images give you a raging hard-on every time? Are there things about him, his demeanor, his body, his cock, the effect he had on her, the things he did to her, that make you mad, jealous, envious, and totally turned on?