r/cuckoldstories2

Throwaway account because my main is linked to real life. I am still processing this and honestly don't know how to feel.

My wife (W, 27F) started hitting the gym hard about two years ago. She got into incredible shape. Around that time, she met James (J, 31M) at her gym. J is completely ripped, wealthy, and works for his dad’s massive business when he isn't working out. At first, their friendship was strictly confined to the gym, so I didn't worry about it.

But over the last few months, things changed. W and J started grabbing lunch, hanging out at cafes, and going to the movies. Around the same time, our own relationship and sex life started to nose-dive.

A few weeks ago, W suggested we try a "couple swap" to spice things up. I was hesitant but open to the idea of exploring - until she explicitly suggested we do it with J. I reluctantly agreed because I wanted to save my marriage. That was the first time I ever heard that J even had a girlfriend, because he never seemed like the relationship type.

Looking back, I should have seen the signs. A week before the swap, J dropped W off at our house at midnight. She was completely passed out. He claimed they just went out for drinks after the gym and she overdid it. W is a light drinker, so I didn't question it heavily at the time. Now, it feels entirely different.

J owns a luxury villa about an hour outside the city. W was unusually excited on the drive over this past Saturday. When we arrived, J gave W a tight hug and just gave me a brief nod. It was only the second time I had ever met him.

I noticed his girlfriend wasn't there. When I asked, J casually said she was running late. We drank wine, and eventually, the girlfriend, Maya (M, 24F), arrived. She was stunning and in perfect shape.

By midnight, we were all pretty drunk. W shifted over to J’s lap, kissing him with the biggest smile I’ve seen on her face in months. J suggested we split up and head to our respective bedrooms.

Inside our room, things felt formal at first. Right before we got into it, M looked at me and said, \\\*"Don't worry, I'm worth it."\\\* I thought she just meant she was a catch, so I ignored the weird wording.

M was incredibly skilled. She gave me the best head of my life, and we moved to the bed. When I went down to eat her out, she stopped me and asked, \\\*"Are you sure you want to do that?"\\\* Again, I ignored the weird vibe and just kept going. We used protection, had two rounds that night, and one more in the shower the next morning.

When M and I went down for breakfast, W and J were still in their room. They finally emerged right as we were finishing. W looked glowing and was smiling like crazy - it was obvious they had a wild morning round, too.

M left shortly after breakfast. It struck me as odd that she barely said goodbye to J, her supposed boyfriend, before driving off. W insisted we stay at the villa until after lunch to "enjoy the view." The entire morning, W and J were touchy-feely and openly flirting right in front of me.

As we finally packed up to leave, J smirked at me and said, \\\*"You have an amazing wife, take care of her. See you at the gym."\\\* Then he leaned in and asked, \\\*"How was that girl, anyway? Asking for future reference."\\\* Dumbfounded, I just blurted out, \\\*"She was nice."\\\*

On the highway back, W looked at me and dropped the bomb.

She casually told me that M wasn't J’s girlfriend at all. She was a $500/hr high-end escort J hired for the weekend. W claimed she only found out during the night while she was in bed with J, and decided not to tell me because she \\\*"didn't want to ruin my fun night."\\\*

The realization hit with a wave of absolute frustration and confusion. I would agree that I was also turned on by the fact. I was rock hard when she told me this, she took my dick out while I was driving and blew me, to make it up for me. I’m still unable to believe that I gave up my wife for a 500$ whore.

The initial shock has worn off, and reality is setting in. I feel as though I was a participant in a scenario where the terms were misrepresented. I am left feeling like a secondary character in a plan that wasn't entirely about "us."

Everything feels much clearer now. I am concerned that W and J may have developed a significant bond - either emotional or physical - long before this weekend. I feel like my wife planned this entire arrangement as a way to facilitate their affair (atleast an emotional one) to not feel guilty about sleeping with J. I am cucked and sadly i kinda felt good.

\\\*\\\*TL;DR:\\\*\\\* Agreed to a couple's swap with my wife's gym friend. Discovered the partner he brought was actually a hired professional, not his girlfriend. I now suspect the entire weekend was a cover for an existing relationship between them.

We woke up the next morning pretty hungover and wrecked from the night before, but it felt good. My husband and I stayed in bed for a while, cuddling naked under the sheets, laughing about how filthy it was that I’d made him sniff and fuck me while Gloria’s panties were wrapped around my ankle. He kept calling me his perfect little slut and I could feel him getting hard again just talking about it.
Family breakfast was the usual chaos everyone chatting, coffee flowing, acting completely normal. Gloria kept shooting me these little knowing smiles across the table. After we ate, she and I ditched the group for tennis, then a yoga session. We were both exhausted by the end, sweaty and loose, so I suggested we head back to our cabin’s balcony for some sunbathing. My husband was off handling work stuff, so the room was all ours.
We raided the mini bar for a couple of those little bottles and got a nice light buzz going. I stripped off my top and laid down on the sunbed completely topless, tits out under the warm sun. Gloria hesitated for a second but then did the same. God, her body really was impressive for her forties perky tits with nice nipples, flat stomach, that athletic tone. We chatted easily, and she started opening up more. She admitted I’d probably seen her naked more times this trip than her husband Mike had. They hadn’t fucked once. She’d even tried sliding under the sheets to suck his dick the other night, but he kept pushing her off because Tom was right there in the other bed.
I laughed and told her I was actually sore as hell from getting fucked so much. That made her eyes go wide. I suggested she tease Mike a little send him some topless sunbathing pics to get him worked up. She was shy at first, blushing hard, but I kept complimenting her body, telling her how hot she looked, how any guy would lose his mind seeing her like this. I grabbed my phone and started snapping pictures. I had her pose arching her back, covering her nipples teasingly with her hands, then letting them show. She looked incredible. I sent the photos to her and she picked the hottest ones to forward to Mike. His replies came fast lots of heart eyes and “holy fuck” texts. She was grinning like crazy.
Later that evening Gloria pulled me aside and asked if my husband, Tom, and I could hang out with his parents for a bit so she could finally get some alone time with Mike. I told her of course.
The evening was family-friendly shows, dinner with my husband’s parents, the whole group. Tom kept stealing glances at me, and I made sure to “accidentally” brush against him whenever I could. After dinner, my husband walked his parents back to their cabin. I told him I was heading straight to ours. On the way, I texted Tom to meet me quick.
The second he slipped inside I pushed him against the wall and kissed him hard, tongues sliding, my hand immediately grabbing his cock through his trousers. He was already stiff. We made out like animals for a minute, breathing heavy. I knew my husband would be back any second, so it had to be fast. I reached into my bag, grabbed Gloria’s panties from the night before, and pressed them into his hand. “These are my panties from yesterday,” I whispered with a wicked smile. “Keep them.” He shoved them in his pocket, squeezed my ass hard one last time, and slipped out the door just before my husband got back. I heard Gloria and Mike’s cabin door open and close they were definitely done fucking by then.
My husband and I spent the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling on the bed. I was still buzzing. Eventually I grabbed my phone, mirrored it to the TV, and pulled up the photos I’d taken of Gloria that afternoon her topless on the sunbed, tits out, smiling seductively. His eyes went huge. “Holy shit… those are Gloria’s?” He looked equal parts shocked and insanely turned on. I slid down between his legs, took his cock in my mouth, and sucked him slow and deep while he stared at the pictures on the big screen. He kept groaning, calling me a dirty fucking slut the whole time.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He flipped me over into doggy style right there in front of the TV, pounding me hard while Gloria’s tits bounced on the screen. It felt so fucking wrong and hot. I came hard, pushing back against him, and he filled me up again, groaning her name mixed with mine.
Later that night, my phone buzzed. It was Tom. I told him I was lying in bed. He asked if I was alone. When I said yes, he sent a picture: Gloria’s panties (that my husband had cum all over while fucking me) wrapped tightly around his hard cock, fresh cum streaked everywhere. He had no idea they were his mom’s. The thought made me throb all over again.
I just feel like such a very, very dirty slut…

My wife and I have a unique understanding where she admitted to me five years ago about fucking around on a work trip for an entire week with one of her work partners in the pharmaceutical rep industry. They are in the same region so they have company meetings overnight several times a year. She makes a lot more money than I do, but we try to keep things pretty balanced for the littles sake power wise, but we both know who wears the pants in the family. Five years ago she went on her training trip and me him, his name is Mike. They were picked up at the airport together with a limo, the only two on it so they had an instant connection. My wife is incredibly hot, tall with incredible curly hair. She is the innocent type, raised in church, but this was her first big job and away from home. She told me later that Mike and her had an instant connection and they just "clicked". Yes Mike is black, built, and very confident-you know when he walks into a room (Ive since met him). Wife went radio silent that week, which was totally unlike her. She texted a little. I found it odd but I didn't make a big deal about it, like I said shes very innocent. 

Well about a week after she got back from her trip, she caught me watching porn. She was upset with me and I was very remorseful. It was thru that discussion she admitted her fling with Mike, that night she told me they only slept together once. I was upset and surprised by her. I asked her questions about him and what happened. She told me they clicked from the beginning and had an instant connection. She told me he was wearing shorts without pockets and had him hold her room key. This was the very first night. She said he ended up knocking on her door asking for his room key. It was during that interaction they ended up kissing and fucking. She said it only happened that one time the first night. I was upset and surprised and ended up sleeping in the guest bedroom that night. I was fucking blown away by what she did, just surprised. I tried to act mad to her but on the inside I wasn't mad at all. I acted the way a husband was supposed to act.

We acted somewhat normal the next day but I didn't really press her on any questions. That night when we went to bed, she asked me if I was still mad at her. It was at that moment I attacked her pussy with my mouth. If there was a way to show how much I worshipped her pussy with my mouth, I did it. I couldn't wait to get my mouth on her fucked pussy. She was shocked and overwhelmed with my reaction, she started laughing and patting me on the head and said, I guess you aren't mad at me anymore. I ended up licking her for over 30 minutes, she asked me if I wanted to have sex. I told her I couldn't and she asked me why. I told her I already came already, I came while I was licking her. She started laughing and asked when did I cum. I told her within the first five minutes of licking her. She said hold on, you came five minutes into this and kept going for another 30 minutes? I was pretty embarrassed about how turned on I was. She said obviously you are not mad at me at all, I said not at all. She said, I guess this is a good time to tell you, I was with Mike more than that first night. I said are you serious? I said, how many times did you all do it? She said, I have no idea how many times we had sex that week. I said, "oh fuck me". I just stared at her, I was overwhelmed mentally. I said the most embarrassing thing ever, I said " can I please go down on you some more?" She laughed and said, "knock yourself out". I went down on her again and she finally made me stop. She came several times and she finally laughing said, "I need you to stop, I can't take this anymore and then laughingly said I could get used to this."

From that night on, the dynamics of our marriage changed. And this is when the don't ask, don't tell philosophy came into being. She hints about things with Mike, she sees him several times a year at meetings. She never calls or texts while she is gone. She'll come home and I'll ask her how her trip was, I'll ask her if Mike was there and he was. The most I'll get from her was, yes he was there and he's doing great and she'll laugh. But inevitably the night she comes home, I can't wait to lick her . And I always cum humping the bed while Im licking her, it's a tradition every time she comes home from a trip. I know for a fact I've eaten a well fucked pussy full of Mike's cum. She doesn't hide that part of her trip at all. She doesn't admit it but she doesn't hide her well fucked pussy.

Last weekend we were at a company party for the Fourth of July. She didn't rub it in my face her relationship with Mike but she didn't hide it either. Her workmates know that they are very close and tight and I didn't cramp their relationship. I got a few weird looks from her work partners and their spouses but I could be paranoid. They hung around each other and he always sat on the other side of her at meals and functions. During the evening I went back to the room and let her stay out for a company function. She came in that night at 2:00. I didn't ask her where she was. She came to bed and looked at me and said it's late, do you want to? I said, yes please. She laughed and laid down in the bed. I went down on her and started licking her. She was so so wet and hot. This was different than ever before. This was a fresh and very well fucked pussy. The only thing she said that referred to her being fucked was she told me to be gentle. I groaned when she said that and I ended up cumming then. She could hear me moan and said oh fuck. I ended up licking her until she came really big. Neither of us said anything except she laughed and said clean up the sheets. I came so much on the sheets and the sheets were soaked. The hotel sent new sheets up and I ended up changing out the sheets while she was in the shower. The crazy thing this was Friday night and I had all day there the next day with Mike and the other people. 

The next day was Saturday and it was surreal to see them see each other the next morning at breakfast and catch eyes with each other. You could tell it's like its long lost lovers seeing each other. I could see them talking and laughing and whispering with each other. I heard Mike laugh out loud and say "No Way!" and then he looked over at me. I felt six inches tall. We ended up eating and were supposed to go golfing. I asked my wife if she minded me staying back at the room as I had a stomach ache. She said that was fine. I know for a fact her and Mike shared a golf cart the whole day. I could see one of her friends posting pictures on instagram and she was in a cart with him in all the pictures. If you didn't know better you would have thought they were a couple. She came back to the room to take a shower for dinner and to get ready. I was in the room watching soccer. She walked in and asked me how I was feeling and kind of smirked at me, she had been drinking all day. I said I feel a little better. She said you feel good enough to do your job? I said Yes Mam! She laughed and said do your thing. She walked over to the bed and I got on my knees and took off her socks and shoes and then her shorts. She wasn't wearing panties. She didn't say anything I just looked up at her and she laid back and said go to it. I didn't even get to take off her shirt. I didn't get to take off my clothes. I just went down on her in the bedroom and she said oh fuck and just grabbed my hair. She was so wet. She was much more vocal than normal. She said, "I love you doing your job." "this is so fucking perfect". After 20 minutes of me licking her and her cumming multiple times she said, "youve got to stop, I've got to get ready for dinner". She looked down at my shorts and could see that I came in my shorts while licking her and she died laughing. She asked me if Im going to dinner, I could tell she didn't want me to go, I told her I was going to get room service. She walked out the door and said don't wait up for me. She did come back that night super late, later than the night before and we ended up repeating everything that happened previously. I licked her again that night. We never fucked one time on the trip, but I ended up cumming three times. Each time licking her. The next day was uneventful as Mike had to take an early flight home.

I think she's fucked a guy from her gym too. But I don't know that for a fact, I just know she's had me go down on her several times after she worked out. It's not an on going thing but I can usually tell by her attitude. We love each other, I just don't get in her business and she doesn't rub it in my face at home. I guess when it comes to work, she's the boss and I give her all the latitude she wants.

My long distance girlfriend has recently started telling me that she's been texting and playing with other guys. We have always been in a technically open relationship. However, I have not been with anyone else since we've been together and we haven't really spoken about what she's been doing Recently, it came up in conversation that I had a little bit of a cuckold fetish. Since I told her that, she has been telling me about all of the other guys she's been texting, sending pictures and videos to, calling and even meeting up with

At first I didn't know how I felt about this, but from the very first time I've been so turned on by hearing about and seeing what she's been doing that it has overridden all other feelings. When she shares her text conversations or stories she also tends to not let me see anything she sent to the other guys unless it's blurred. As well as this, she has recently started denying me from seeing her nude and NSFW pictures. Instead, she has started to send me teasing pictures where she is clothed or covered or otherwise censored. To begin with, I found this really frustrating, but the more she's done it, the more I realize that it turns me on even more to see these denying cuckold pictures than it did to see her nudes. I feel like I have accidentally become her cuckold and I kinda love it.

Hey everyone, long-time lurker. Well… life has gotten quite spicier now that I'm telling you all about it. My fiancé and I have been engaged for a year and a half in a very open relationship.

A few months ago I reconnected with a guy I’ve known for 6 years (44M). What started as catching up turned into intense chemistry, and we invited him to stay with us for a whole month. Let’s just say he didn’t waste any time claiming the place… or me.He had free use of me whenever he wanted. Mornings, afternoons, middle of the night — if he was hard, I was taking it.

My fiancé wasn’t allowed to fuck my pussy the entire time (still isn’t). That privilege belonged to the bull, and he made full use of it.The sex was next-level filthy. One weekend we decided to push my fiancé’s limits hard. Bull had saved up for days so he could pump maximum volume. He ended up breeding me four times in one night until his balls were empty. Every time my fiancé thought it was finally over and breathed a sigh of relief, bull would get hard again within minutes. I kept moaning things like “I want a real man’s baby” (only to play with him) while looking at my fiancé. After the third and fourth loads we even pretended we were done… only for bull to start kissing down my neck and body again. The look on my fiancé’s face when he realized round four was happening was priceless. By the end bull was pounding me like an animal, dead-eyed and ruthless, while telling me he was going to fill my womb as much as humanly possible.When we finally finished, he held me protectively with all four loads still inside me and casually asked my fiancé, “So… boy or girl?” (I’m on BC… probably). The next day he even emailed my fiancé his recent sperm test results — stupidly high fertility numbers.

The humiliation wasn’t just in the bedroom. He made my fiancé stroke himself in rhythm with every thrust, only allowed to cum when bull did. He loved putting my fiancé in a 69 underneath us so he could fuck me doggy while his balls rubbed all over my fiancé’s face — and yes, my fiancé had to lick and worship them if he wanted to cum. We did lots of creampie cleanup, denial, and “pussy-free” play. Although I likes when he is allowed to claim me afterwards which only makes everyone realises why he's in that place. Bull would make me describe in filthy detail how much better he felt while my fiancé listened.Outside the bedroom it was just as intense. He took me on dates, shopping, out to dinner — all while my fiancé was at work.

When his friends came over it got extra wicked: bull introduced me as “his toy” right in front of my fiancé. When my own friends visited though, everything stayed normal.He’d make my fiancé cook for us, then fuck me right next to him at the dinner table, sometimes making me gag loudly on him while my fiancé tried to eat. Other times he’d bend me over right beside his plate and rail me while eating off my fiancé’s food.The mix of bullying, friendship, torment, and raw dominance was wild.

I’m still buzzing from the whole month. My fiancé is equal parts broken, humiliated, and more turned on than ever. We’re already talking about the next time.

My wife Paige and Chris have been coaching volleyball together for the past six years. She is the head coach and Chris the assistant. They’ve been a great team having numerous successful years and have become a sought after program. My wife 34 is a 5’5” busty but in shape brunette with hazel eyes and the skin complexion that matches her Irish heritage. Chris is 29 in good athletic shape, about 6 foot tall and Dominican. I wouldn’t call Chris my friend but we get along well and are very familiar with each other and there’s never once been an issue between us. I hear about him often and we always get along well at events and I’ve never once had held any suspicions of him and my wife being more than friends and great coaches together.

One afternoon Paige mentioned the annual volleyball coaches convention and wanting to attend. She’s brought it up in the past but it’s never worked out timing wise for one reason or another. This years was a week long in Kansas City, Missouri at the convention center. I wasn’t thrilled but decided to talk through it with her to find out if it was in the realm of the possible and what it would look like for us financially and time off wise. After much discussion everything seemed reasonable. The catch, it was not a good time for me to take a leave of absence from work. She asked if I was comfortable with her and Chris attending and after talking through the details I said yes to which I received a very gleeful hug and kiss in response. It’s certainly not the first time they travelled together although this was without a team and significantly further than the usual few hours and an overnight stay for a tournament or match. This was them traveling solo and flying to a convention for a week. Nonetheless I agreed to it and we began discussing the details and she reached out to Chris to see if he was available and up for it as well.

After much discussion and back and forth the trip was finalized. The decision was made to drive instead of fly for two main reasons. One the price of the flights, ridiculous, two she insisted on bringing her dog, a Shih Tzu named Sammy along with her. It’s a 6 hour drive from us one way. They are going to take our car, a Ford Explorer, since it has the most room and comfort for the roadtrip. They are leaving Sunday mid day for the convention on Monday and coming back the following Saturday morning. Hotels are booked in downtown Kansas City, Chris chose a different hotel simply because of preference cost wise. It’s only two blocks from the Marriott Paige is staying in so not too inconvenient ride wise as there was no plan for him to get a rental once they arrive.

It was the week of the convention and I could see the excitement on Paige’s face as she began packing for the trip. The week was consumed by conversation on which seminars to attend and the benefit of going to educational sessions on recruitment and the best day to hit the supposed largest Volleyball Marketplace. Saturday arrived and Chris came over to the house, I met him in the driveway and showed him where to park his car for the week. After he parked we proceeded to engage in some small talk briefly before helping him throw his things into our Explorer. Paige came out with Sammy and I took him from her and loaded him into the back of the vehicle as she greeted Chris. I then gave her a hug and kiss wished them a good trip and told her to let me know when they get there and off they went.

I got a text from her when they got to Kansas City and a proceeding call after she dropped Chris at his hotel and arrived at hers. The beginning of the week went as expected and I got multiple pictures, texts, calls all about the convention and the daily happenings. She even ran into some of her old teammates from college who were there as well.

Wednesday afternoon I got a text from her saying Chris was able to get reservations at a famous steak house Thursday night and asked if she wanted to go. Said it was on him and to considerate it a dinner to celebrate their success as coaches. Seemed a little odd to me but I accepted the reasoning especially considering this particular establishment usually books out months in advance for reservations. I told her as long as she wanted to go she should go and enjoy the experience noting my jealousy at getting to go to such a renowned steakhouse. I picked up on the hesitation to commit to going in her responses and asked if it made her feel uncomfortable to which she replied that was not at all the case. The hesitation stemmed from the dress code being formal to semi-formal and her not having the proper attire and she would have to go out and buy something tonight for it. I physically shrugged at that and left it up to her. She later let me know she told Chris she was in and was going out shopping for something to wear.

Come Thursday I’m talking to her on the phone and it’s after 4pm so I ask “don’t you need to get ready for your dinner soon?” To where she emphatically replied “oh no not yet!” Which led me to ask what time they were going suddenly realizing I never asked to begin with to which she replied 9:30. “9:30! Why so late?” Was my surprised reaction. That was apparently the only time that was available and all other time slots had been long since booked. I was taken back slightly having not realized it was so late but I guess it doesn’t change anything a moved the conversation on and ended it as I was getting ready to make dinner for myself.

Around 830 I get a few texts he’s grabbing him at 830 since it takes 20mins to get there and a picture of her in the dress she bought. She looked great in it. She was wearing a Black form fitting shoulder-less knee length dress that was that showed off more cleavage than I thought necessary but she looked Great! After showering her in compliments to her glee I jokingly finished it off with “Enjoy your Date” which she laughed about and brushed off saying it’s formal and she doesn’t want to be undressed. I told her to check in with me and enjoy dinner as she headed out to get him.

Other than a quick text at 9:20 saying the just dropped the car at Valet and arrived to the restaurant the next time I heard from her was around 10:30 when she shit me a picture he took of her at the table and showing off the restaurant saying how nice it was and the food was great. She then told me that after dinner they provide a quick tour of the restaurant, kitchen and elaborate wine cellar before taking you upstairs where they provide dessert separately at a piano bar. I tried to remain excited for her and not show my slight displeasure with the whole thing and told her to enjoy it sounds fun.

I got another picture of her the dessert table smiling with the piano player in the background. She also shared with me that she sampled a few of the wines that they had jokingly stating their waiter talked her into it with his elaborate presentation of each. I did bring up the concern of her driving and she said not to worry Chris will drive the car drop her off and pick her up in the morning instead of the other way around as they had been doing. She quickly changed the subject saying they should be leaving shortly after they wrap up dessert.

It was approaching 1am at this point and I hadn’t heard anything more from her when my phone rang and it was her. I answered and she seemed in a great mood and told me Chris just dropped her off and she’s walking up to her room now. I talked with her about the night till she got up to her room and she quickly settled saying she was going to shower and go to bed as she had an early morning for last day at convention. To which we both said good night and love you.

Before going to bed something made me want to check on our vehicle to make sure he made it back on not convinced he drank nothing solely based on the slurry conversation I just had with Paige. I opened up our Ford app to bring up its location and it showed in the parking lot of Paige’s hotel. First thought was he just dropped her off and it hadn’t updated yet so I waited 10 minutes and did it again and it still showed it in the same spot and the display noted it was an updated location as of 1 minutes ago. Now I started to find that odd and different scenarios began running through my mind. I tried calling Paige and got no answer but she did say she was going to take a shower. Then I thought maybe she did drive and didn’t want to tell me. She did sound pretty well buzzed when we talked so maybe she did just fall asleep. Either way there wasn’t much I could do I thought of calling the hotel decided I didn’t want to go that route and potentially cause an issue. Then my chest got tight and my heart started racing as I thought of an idea crossed my mind.

Our dog Sammy. When we travel we bring a small wire crate along that he goes into and a ring camera. This is partly due to the anxiety Paige has when leaving him alone. This allows us to keep him in a safe and secure place and her to be able to just pull up the ring app and check on him wherever we are. I logged into the ring app on my phone and brought up the camera that she brought with her. The feed popped up and there was Sammy lying down in his crate up against a wall and nothing else could be seen. This was odd for two reason, the first being the first thing she does when getting back is let him out and she sleeps with him every night. That meant she was either very tired and crashed in bed or something else was going on.

I pushed the speaker icon to unmute the sound. I could immediately hear a steady stream of sound which I recognized as the tv playing in the background but i could also hear Paige and what sounded like noises you’d make while getting in a good stretch or laboring at doing something. Then it became clear from the sounds and moans echoing in the room that it was unmistakably sounds of pleasure coming from her. I just sat and listened to the mixture of the cable broadcast and her moans trying to picture whatever was going on in the room by the sound. I even thought maybe she was horny and playing with herself. There was a break in her moans and the next sound led to the striking realization that she was not alone and she must be with Chris. Her moaning increased in volume and frequency and she began to mutter words and phrases suck as “yeeahh Fuck Me..oh like that” with the accompanied echo of the sounds of sex that can only be made by two peoples bodies rhythmically coming together in sexual positions that I began envisioning in my mind. I listened for a few more moments and exited the app oddly very turned on by what was transpiring in real time with her. For some reason I tried calling her again and it again went to voicemail. For some reason I was hesitant to log back into the ring app as the app displays when someone watched a live feed and this gave me pause but 15mins later I did. I was greeted by a similar scene of Sammy followed by the tv noise and accompanied sounds of sex smacking of bodies and Paige moaning“OOOooohhh ugghhh yeah huh uggghh” but this time mixed in with her was Chris with the occasional “yeah take that mhmm” and for the last time I exited the app to gather my thoughts and think on what the way forward was going to be.

I ended up falling asleep and woke up around 4am and checked the app and saw Sammy was gone. There was just an open empty crate on the screen and silence in the room. I knew she had to be up around 7 to make the last day of the conference and decided to play it off like nothing happened and give me time to think about how to confront her and deal with what to do now and if I was oddly ok with this happening and potentially happening again if we work on a few things. Strangely I felt more turned on and aroused by the entire situation, more than I felt anger or betrayal. Nothing strange came from our daily chats and texts and Saturday arrived and see her and Chris pull into the driveway.

Update: Thank you for all the interest. Ive decided to continue and write a part two but it may take me some time (week or so) Things have progressed as the convention was back in December. I’m open to messages in the meantime and wife’s account commented below as well. We love to share our story and are thoroughly enjoying it, Appreciate the interest!

Posting this as people have been asking for it, it continues from my last story. Note that this all happened over a year ago so my memory is a bit hazy, hence some of the small details I have made up/added stuff in but the bulk of it is as what happened.

It had been maybe a month since my last story ended. One minute I’d be rock hard thinking about it, the next I’d feel a knot in my stomach. Eventually my horniness won and I just told my wife to text Chris and set it up for an upcoming weekend.

He showed up right on time and we sat in the living room with some drinks. My wife looked incredible in this tight dress that hugged every curve.

After about an hour the tension got too heavy. My wife stood up and said “Let’s go upstairs.” As soon as we stepped into the bedroom, Chris was on her. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in as they kissed in front of me. His hands went down, squeezing her ass under the dress while she moaned. I sat in the chair in the corner of our bedroom, took my pants off and started stroking my cock.

He took off her dress and she dropped to her knees. She was super eager, spit already dripping down her chin onto her tits. Chris started face fucking her, holding her hair in both fists. Then he threw her on the bed and fucked her properly. First missionary while the headboard was banging against the wall and her moaning loudly. Then her riding him, her tits and ass bouncing, grinding down on his cock while she screamed out and came. I couldn’t believe how fast she came, I don’t think I have ever made her cum that fast before.

After she came he flipped her onto all fours, facing the end of the bed right toward me. He dove face first into my wife’s ass and licked away. My wife had her eyes closed and mouth open as she said “Oh my god” while he continued to lick away behind her. Then he pulled out and grabbed the lube and started coating his cock and my wife’s asshole with it. I knew what was about to happen now.

He looked at me and said “Come here, kneel right in front of her face.”
I hesitated a bit at first because I was a bit taken back but got up and obliged. I knelt at the edge of the bed so my wife and I were basically eye level. Chris positioned himself behind her.
“Hold her hands,” he said. I did. She gripped me immediately. I could see she had her wedding ring on.
He looked at me from behind her and said “You’re going to hold her hands and look her in the eyes while I take her ass’s virginity. Don’t look away and don’t let go”
He pressed the head of his cock against her tight asshole and started pushing. The moment it popped past her ring her eyes flew wide open. Her whole face lit up and her mouth dropped open as she quietly said “Oh fuck”. I could feel her tightly grabbing onto my hands.
“Ohhh fuuuuck… it burns…” she gasped.
Chris kept feeding his cock into her slowly. “That’s it. Keep looking at your husband. Let him watch every second.”
When the stretch got too much she tried to drop her head but he grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked it back up. “Keep your eyes up. Look at him. Don’t close them either.”
I was inches from her face. Her eyes were watering and her face was starting to go red. Her hands kept squeezing mine.
Chris groaned as he went deeper. “God damn, she’s fucking tight. I can’t believe you just gave your wife’s ass up” he said as he slapped her cheeks. That comment reminded me that I was giving away this intimate moment to another man. It should have been me who was the first one in there, but instead I’m holding my wife’s hands as Chris’s cock is in there instead. It was insanely hot in the moment.
I remember a tear left my wife’s eye and I wiped it away from her face.
Eventually he was all the way in and then he started fucking her ass, first slowly and then getting faster. I could see my wife’s face went from pain to pleasure. She let her head down a couple more times and each time Chris yanked her head up again, the second time he held her held her head up by pulling her hair and left it there for a bit.
I wanted to jerk my cock, but I listened to Chris and held my wife’s hands. She was gripping on tight.
Chris eventually started teasing me again. “Look at your husband and tell him your ass belongs to me now. ”
My wife didn’t say anything, I think because she was too overwhelmed by the feeling. He slapped her ass cheeks and said “Tell him”
Her eyes locked with mine and she said “Ughh fuck…my ass… it belongs to Chris now, baby”
The words stung.
“Good fucking girl” he said
He kept fucking her and she loved it. She was making noises again that she had never had with me before. Except this time it felt and sounded different. Eventually he said he was going to cum. She got off the bed and kneeled next to me.

Chris stood over us, stroking his cock. My wife opened her mouth. He grabbed her hair and unloaded thick, heavy ropes across her face and mouth. She opened wide and took as much as she could, then leaned forward and sucked him clean. I watched as the love of my life sucked and cleaned this cock that was just inside her ass moments ago. I was jerking off and told my wife I was going to cum, she said “Cum in my mouth baby, you deserve it”. I stood up and unloaded into her mouth in what felt like the most I’ve ever cum after that intense session.

After Chris left we cleaned up and got into bed. She was sore, walking funny. We talked for a bit before she fell asleep. She admitted how intense it felt having me right there watching her face the entire time and how his cock felt in her ass. She said I did so well. I told her the truth, how jealous and humiliated I felt, but also how hot it all was. She said she loved it, and I realised then that wasn’t the last time he was going to be fucking her ass.

We fucked the next morning, slow and loving. But all I could think about was the next time Chris was going to fuck her ass while I wasn’t allowed to.

As I mentioned in a previous post, we are no longer in a cuckold relationship, there’s a few more stories I could write after this if people are interested but life is very busy at the moment so will take some time.

I [M28] still jerk off to her old videos [cuckold perspective maybe]

Two years ago I helped my girlfriend to boot up her old dead iPhone because she wanted to use it as a “retro” camera. Did the reboot on my day off to find some old sex tapes of hers in the phone from 2017.

I was shocked when I saw the videos and pics even though they weren’t really “extreme” by porn standards, the usual POV blowjob and missionary stuff.

Throughout our relationship she would be dirty talking about how “big” my dick is when we have sex (I have a very average 6 incher) , but to see her easily take her ex that is noticeably bigger while being just that slightly more enthusiastic than she is with me was a very conflicting thing to experience during that time.

That was what kickstarted this whole cuckolding thing for me. I airdropped the stuff to my own phone before acting dumb and returning the unlocked phone to her. Throughout the years I’ve managed to keep this a secret and I still use the videos and pics as jerk off material every now and then, but increasingly more. I have not mustered up the courage to tell her of this kink, and I do not know whether I ever will.

I’ve already been a cuck several months now with my gf quietly sleeping around while I feign ignorance, but I recently did something that cemented I’m one for good.

I was emotionally cheated on (also very likely physically cheated on) by my gf with an fwb that she’d fuck constantly before we met, and even though I said I hated him, she was still secretly talking to him behind my back. She claims nothing happened but she made excuses for him when he made it clear he wanted to fuck her still even after when she and I first got together. She says she cut him off completely now but I’ll always have a nagging feeling if he’s still around.

Anyway, despite my hatred, I couldn’t help but feel growing arousal. Eventually, I caved in:

I jacked off to a picture of them together that she sent me (when we first got together) and imagined his bigger frame plowing her much smaller frame. When I finished, I realized that this is something I did on my own free will. I wasn’t coerced into it, and gave in to those thoughts on my own accord.

I thought about all the times she’d hype him up and put him on a pedestal. I thought about her defending him all the times I tried calling out his asshole behavior. I thought about how he was the only person she’d actually respect and laugh at his jokes. I thought about all of this and it only made me harder and finish faster as I looked at their photo.

I got off to a picture of my gf with someone I hate, and that completely confirms I’m a cuck through and through.

Update 1: Please ask questions directly here instead of messaging me

I always wanted to fuck a pro athelete since my teenage.

So this thing happened in Iceland and I still don't really know how to talk about it

We were in Skaftafell, just wandering around the glacier center. Not even doing anything crazy, just looking at melting ice or whatever. And that's where I saw him.

I don't even know why I looked twice, honestly. But he caught me looking and smiled and yeah... something just clicked. We both felt it.

My partner noticed it too. Later when the guy came up to our table at dinner and asked if he could sit with us, my partner literally kicked me under the table—the good kind of kick, you know? Like "do you see what I see?" We said yes.

He was this guy on a solo trip, just trying to get away from his normal life. Turned out he was actually a pretty well-known athlete but he didn't make a big deal about it. We just talked for hours. Wine was flowing. He was funny and smart and seemed genuinely interested in both of us.

But here's the thing my partner kept catching my eye. Every time I'd laugh at something the guy said, my partner would squeeze my hand or give me this look. Like he was... enjoying watching me enjoy it? It was building this weird tension that nobody was talking about but everyone felt.

When dinner wrapped up we were all just standing outside. The guy asked if we wanted to go for a walk

So we're walking back and the guy and I just... started talking more privately while my partner was a bit behind us taking some pictures of mountains. The chemistry was insane. When we got to the van the guy just kissed me. It wasn't planned or anything, it just happened. My partner was right there watching and he didn't stop it. He just kind of smiled.

We broke apart and there was this moment of awkward silence. My partner was the one who said it: "Do you want to come inside?"

The guy looked at me, I looked at my partner, and he nodded. So we all went in.

My partner just grabbed the chair from the small table and pulled it over to the side of the bed. He sat down. And he didn't say anything, he just... watched.

The guy and I started kissing again. Slower this time. More intense. And I could feel my partner's eyes on us. At first I was self-conscious but then it flipped—it was the hottest thing. Knowing he was there. Knowing he wanted this.

Things escalated pretty naturally. Clothes came off. My partner was still just sitting in that chair, completely focused. I could see how turned on he was. And every once in a while he'd make this sound or shift in his seat and I'd know he was into it. It wasn't jealousy or insecurity—it was the opposite.

After a few minutes my partner got up. He didn't say anything, just moved to join us on the bed. And it turned into this thing where we were all together. My partner kept touching me, checking in with me, making sure I was okay. He'd kiss me between everything. And he was into the guy too, in his own way.

It wasn't me and the guy with my partner watching anymore. It was all three of us, and it felt right. It felt honest.

Afterward we all just sat there in the campervan, kind of stunned. My partner held me and kept saying how proud he was of me. How beautiful I looked. How much he loved me.

The guy said it was the hottest thing he'd experienced because of how real it was.

After few minutes, player again sucking my lips as he loved them most and husband is only watching this time as he comes only once in a day.

This time player and I was more rough and little humilatiin to husband as he can't join but he keep holding my hand.

I came after this time in 40 minutes of marathon sex. We both sweating and kissing a lot.

After some more drinks he left to his tent and my husband took care of me.

No number exchanged, just one time experience.

Last post

The drive was three hours of flat highway and the kind of weather that turned Ohio into a colorless rumor of itself. She drove her own car — Meridian had offered a corporate ride and she’d declined without thinking about why and then thought about why for the first forty miles.

Dark jeans. V-neck cashmere in oatmeal, ankle boots. Heels packed in the duffel for the evening sessions because Braddock liked the senior team looking the part once the day shifted to dinner with the facility leads. Coffee in the cup holder going cold. Podcast on, not listened to. The phone face down on the passenger seat because Ray had texted at 9:14 — driving in. see you at noon — and she had not answered.

Three hours is a long time to sit with yourself.

She kept coming back to James’s face. Last night in the kitchen — the anger, the fear, the thing underneath both that she’d pressed on and he’d stopped her. Not tonight. The firmness of his hand on her wrist. She’d felt it the way you feel a guardrail on a mountain road: the thing between you and the drop. He’d been right to stop her. She’d been cruel to start.

And before that — the night before the night before — her hand on him in the dark, his body answering every escalation. She’d been testing him and the test had been conclusive and the conclusion was something she was still holding at arm’s length, turning over, not yet sure what to build on it.

Mile marker 47. The highway unreeling gray and flat. A semi passed her and the car shuddered in the draft.

The office.

She didn’t want to think about the office. Her body thought about the office — the memory lived in her thighs and her jaw and the low pull behind her navel that arrived without invitation. On her knees on rough corporate carpet, the plug seated full inside her, his cock in her mouth and his hand on her head and the taste of him on her tongue and the sentence she’d said — please let me suck your cock — that she still heard in her own voice at unexpected moments. In meetings. In the shower. Lying next to James in the dark while he breathed the steady breathing of a man who trusted her.

Ray had come to her office with leverage they both knew was an excuse, and she’d let him close the door, and somewhere between the pretense of options and his hand on her head she’d gone to her knees with his balls against her chin and her eyes looking up at him and the sound of her own voice begging for something she hadn’t known she wanted until it was in her mouth.

And she hadn’t told James.

The secret sat differently now. It had calcified. Become part of the structure of her daily life — she moved around it the way you move around furniture, unconscious of the accommodation until someone pointed it out. She thought about it less. Felt it more. The weight of it surfacing at odd moments: James kissing her good morning, her mouth that had been somewhere else. James saying I trust you, the trust landing on her like a hand.

Except — and this was the part she couldn’t stop turning over, the part that made the guilt curdle into something stranger — she knew what his body did when she told him the version where he didn’t know. What if I’ve been going to his apartment after work while you think I’m stuck in traffic. His cock had jumped so hard she’d felt it through her whole palm. What if you can’t even tell. He’d come faster to that than to anything else she’d said. The fantasy that got James off hardest wasn’t the one where he watched. It was the one where she did it behind his back and he was oblivious. And she was living that fantasy — giving him exactly what his body begged for in the dark — and he didn’t know. Couldn’t consent to knowing. The thought made her feel sick and powerful in equal measure, and she didn’t know what to do with either feeling so she held them both and drove.

Mile marker 83. She passed a truck stop and the gas station where she’d buy coffee on the way back Sunday. She was already planning the return trip. Already building the Sunday version.

I’m going to sit in a conference room and come home.

She believed it. Mostly. The part of her that didn’t believe it was the same part that had said please on her office carpet. The same part that had clenched around the plug when Ray’s hand settled on her skull and everything in her head went silent. That part didn’t believe anything she told it. That part operated below language, below decision, in the body’s own logic where disgust and desire shared a frequency she couldn’t separate by force of will.

But — and this was the thing she was building the whole drive around, the wall she was constructing mile by mile — she didn’t have to separate them. She just had to not act on them. Not acting was a skill. She’d been not-acting on impulse her entire adult life: not kissing the wrong person at the Christmas party, not telling her mother about the pregnancy scare at twenty-two, not saying I hate this city to James when they moved for his job. The muscle was there. She just had to use it for forty-eight hours.

The sign for Dayton came and went. Thirty miles.

She thought about the plug. The one she’d put in that morning in her office, standing at the bathroom mirror — not the small one, the medium — before Ray knocked. The one her husband had bought and warmed in his hands and eased into her with patience and tenderness. The one that was seated inside her while another man’s cock filled her mouth. The image had a quality she couldn’t look at directly, the way you can’t look at a bright thing without squinting. The transgression of it. The geometry of her body — James’s project below, Ray’s cock above, her on her knees in the middle holding both of them inside her without either of them knowing about the other.

Something about it. She couldn’t put her finger exactly on it. Something about the doubleness — the two men’s investments in her body overlapping in a single moment that neither of them would ever see from the outside. Something about being the only person who knew the full truth. Something about the ugliness of it — the crude, thick, sweating man and the patient careful husband and her body holding both of them and the pleasure cutting through her like a blade that didn’t care whose hand was on the handle.

She’d put the plug in that morning.

She hadn’t planned to. She’d stood at the bathroom mirror at 6 AM with the medium in her hand and her toothbrush in the other and thought: why. The answer that came wasn’t about Ray. It was about being ready for Sunday — about staying open, staying where James had gotten her, not losing two days of ground to conference rooms and hotel beds. The answer after that — the honest one, the one she didn’t examine too long — was about the way it made her sit. Straighter. More present. The small constant hum of awareness that sharpened everything, the way a second coffee sharpened a morning. She’d worn it to work before. She knew what it did to her posture, her focus, the way she occupied a room. Today she needed every edge she could find.

She turned up the podcast. Something about housing starts. Listened to forty seconds and turned it off.

The Ashford property was a glass and steel rectangle on a flat lot off a state road, the kind of corporate building that existed to house servers and middle managers and looked it. She pulled into the lot. Ray’s car — a black sedan, larger than it needed to be — was already in the row marked for visiting executives. He’d arrived before her.

Of course he had.

She sat for thirty seconds with the engine off and looked at his car. Built the wall one more time in her head: conference room, audit, dinner with Braddock, her room, locked door, phone call to James, sleep. Sunday morning. The drive back. The door opening. James. The romantic dinner. Everything she’d promised.

The wall held. Right now, sitting in the car, the wall held.

She got out.

She was in the second-floor corridor pulling her laptop bag onto her shoulder when Ray came around the corner. Moving fast for a man his size — the kind of purposeful stride that made people step aside without being asked. He saw her and changed trajectory, angling toward her, and before she could compose the professional smile she’d rehearsed in the elevator mirror he was beside her, close, his hand on her elbow steering her two steps back from the conference room door.

“We have a problem.” Low. Not the voice from the office — not Blondie, not the lazy drawl. This was the other Ray. The one who closed nine-figure deals and hadn’t lost a client in a decade. His eyes were sharp and dry and looking at her with the focused attention of a man who was about to move a room.

“Patel’s not here to validate the migration theory. She’s here to pin it on our integration. Garrison’s been feeding Braddock a story for two weeks — vendor-side failure, receiving-dock discrepancies he blames on our layer. If that sticks, the deal restructures and our commission evaporates. Both of us.”

She looked up at him. Close enough to smell — the cologne too heavy, the warmth underneath it, the musk she’d had in her nose on her knees in her office.

“How do you—”

“Because I’ve been in forty rooms like this and you haven’t.” He said it without cruelty. The flat assessment of a man stating a fact. “This isn’t about the data. Your analysis is bulletproof — I’ve read it twice. This is about who controls the room when the auditor’s pen comes out. Garrison’s going to try to put you on your heels and then Patel’s going to write down whatever version of the story is standing when the dust settles.”

His hand was still on her elbow. She was aware of it the way she was aware of the plug — a constant, low-grade signal running beneath everything else.

“Your numbers are right. But being right isn’t enough in a room like this — I’ve watched people who were right get buried because they defended when they should have attacked. You handle Patel on the technical. When Garrison moves — and he will — you look at me. Don’t respond to him. Don’t engage. Let me work.”

Let me work.

“I’ve done this a hundred times.” His eyes holding hers. The certainty in them absolute — not arrogant, just true. The certainty of a man who had been winning rooms since before she’d finished her MBA. “Your job is the data. My job is the kill. Follow my lead and we walk out of here with the deal intact. Both of us.”

Follow my lead.

The words settled into her body before her brain finished processing them. The same tone — the same assumption of compliance — as get that for me and on your knees, Blondie. The quiet directive of a man who had never once wondered whether the room would rearrange itself around his instructions.

“Okay,” she said.

He let go of her elbow. Straightened his tie. Became, in one breath, the professional version — the senior Cortec rep walking into a compliance audit with his game face flat and nothing in his expression suggesting his hand had ever been anywhere near her body.

“Good girl.” Barely audible. Already turning toward the door.

Her thighs clenched. The plug shifted.

She followed him in.

The conference room was glass-walled, beige carpet, an oval table seating twelve. A black polycom sat dead center, green LED blinking — Braddock dialed in from Chicago. The on-site arrangement had been his directive from the original email: both leads in the room together, compliance auditor face-to-face, no phone wall between Cortec and the findings team.

At the far end: Patel, senior compliance auditor — mid-forties, glasses pushed up on her head, a legal pad already half-filled. Three chairs down, her junior, writing in tight controlled bullets. Across from Jenna: Garrison. Ashford’s facility operations lead — a man in his late forties whose title had grown faster than his capability, the kind of middle manager who survived by deflecting blame downward and sideways. Laptop open. The studied casualness of a man who had loaded his ammunition before the door opened.

And beside Garrison, taking the chair without being directed to it, spreading into it the way he spread into everything: Ray. Sleeves already pushed past the forearm. The posture of a man settling in for exactly as long as it took to win.

Patel opened.

“I want to start with the disbursement sequence. Ms. Whitfield, your reconciliation report identifies the timestamp inversions as a migration artifact — batch-processing lag creating phantom precedence. Walk me through the mechanism.”

Jenna walked her through it. The system-architecture migration from legacy to SAP, the twenty-four-hour batch windows, the way disbursement records processed in FIFO sequence while purchase orders ran on a separate parallel queue. The inversions weren’t fraud. They were a sequencing artifact — two systems talking to each other on a slight delay, creating timestamp overlaps that looked like backdating but were actually just queue collision.

Patel listened. Her pen moved. Halfway through, she held up a hand.

“The batch-processing windows — are those configured at the vendor level or the facility level?”

“Vendor level. Cortec configured them during the Phase I integration handoff.”

“And those configurations were validated by the receiving-dock team on-site?”

“They were signed off in the Phase I acceptance documentation. I have the sign-off sheet — Garrison’s team countersigned.”

Patel wrote something. Looked at Garrison. Back at Jenna.

“Walk me through how the disbursement timestamps preceded the corresponding POs for three consecutive weeks if this is purely a migration artifact. Three weeks is a long window for a sequencing lag.”

Jenna pulled the data. Walked through the three-week window — the system migration had overlapped with a receiving-dock staffing transition, creating a compounding lag where manual entries were being backdated to align with the automated queue. She showed the normalization after week three when the staffing issue resolved. The pattern disappeared. The timestamps aligned.

Patel sat back. Considered.

“The methodology is sound on its face. But I’m still looking at three weeks of anomalous data that could support either interpretation. Ms. Whitfield, have you ruled out the possibility that the batch-processing configuration itself was incorrectly implemented at the integration layer?”

Before Jenna could answer, Garrison leaned forward.

“That’s what I’ve been flagging for weeks.” His voice the particular flavor of reasonable that corporate men used when sliding a knife between someone’s ribs. “With all respect to Ms. Whitfield’s analysis — and it’s thorough work, I’m not questioning the effort — the foundation it rests on assumes the integration layer was implemented correctly. My receiving-dock team has been documenting discrepancies with the vendor-side configuration for weeks. I’ve raised it internally. If the system architecture has a flaw at the integration point, then Ms. Whitfield’s entire reconciliation methodology is built on a faulty premise.”

He said it to Patel but it was aimed at the polycom. At Braddock. At the record. The move was clean — wrapped in professionalism, anchored by “weeks of flagging,” positioning himself as the responsible party who’d been raising concerns no one listened to. And if it landed, Jenna’s analysis — her bulletproof, airtight, correct analysis — would be footnoted as built on unvalidated assumptions in Patel’s findings letter.

She opened her mouth.

Ray’s hand moved on the table. One inch. A gesture so small it might have been involuntary — his index finger lifting from the wood and settling back down. She saw it. Closed her mouth.

Look at me. Don’t engage. Let me work.

Ray otherwise stayed perfectly still. The same position he’d held for five hours — weight settled, hands flat, the patience of a man who had been waiting for exactly this moment since he sat down.

“Garrison.” Quiet. Almost friendly. “Six weeks of documented discrepancies with the vendor configuration. That’s a long time.”

“It is. We’ve been—”

“Who did you escalate to?”

Garrison paused. The pause was a half-second. Maybe less. But the room heard it.

“My team raised it through our internal—”

“Not internally.” Ray’s voice hadn’t changed register. Hadn’t gotten louder. The same easy tone — the tone of a man asking about the weather, about a lunch order. “You said you flagged discrepancies with the vendor-side configuration. The vendor is Cortec. I’m senior account on this engagement and I have been for fourteen months. Did anyone from your team contact me? An email? A call? A flag in the project-tracking system?”

Garrison’s mouth opened. Closed.

“Because I went through my records this morning.” Ray reached for the folder beside his laptop — the motion of a man reaching for a glass of water. He opened it. A single printed sheet. “This is the Phase I integration acceptance document. Your signature is at the bottom. Dated two months ago. The configuration you’re now calling flawed — you validated it. Personally. You signed off on the batch-processing architecture, the queue parameters, and the disbursement-routing logic.” He slid the sheet two inches toward Patel’s end of the table. “You accepted the deliverable as meeting spec. Two months ago.”

The polycom crackled. Braddock’s voice: “Neil, did your team accept the integration deliverable at Phase I close?”

Garrison’s face had lost a shade of color. “The acceptance was — the scope of the sign-off didn’t necessarily cover—”

“It’s a comprehensive acceptance form.” Ray still hadn’t raised his voice. “Section three: System architecture validated and confirmed operational per agreed specifications. Your initials are on every page.”

Patel was looking at Garrison with the expression of an auditor recalculating which direction her findings letter needed to point.

“So here’s what I’m curious about.” Ray sat back. The chair creaked under his weight. “If the integration layer has been flawed since Phase I, and your team signed off on it, and then your receiving-dock team documented six weeks of discrepancies they never escalated to the vendor — what exactly was your operations team doing for six weeks, Garrison? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you accepted a system, failed to flag issues through the contractual channel, let anomalies accumulate for half a quarter, and now you’re asking this auditor to put it on the woman who found the problem and diagnosed it correctly.”

Silence. The polycom LED blinked.

“That’s — that’s a mischaracterization of the—”

“Ms. Patel.” Ray turned to the auditor. Not dismissing Garrison. Worse — moving past him. The way you move past furniture. “If you need a root-cause finding for your letter, the root cause is a two-month gap in operational escalation at the facility level. The timestamps are a symptom. Ms. Whitfield diagnosed the symptom correctly. The disease is sitting at the other end of this table.”

Garrison’s laptop screen reflected blue light onto a face that had gone very still.

Braddock’s voice through the polycom: “I’m going to want Garrison’s team’s escalation records for the last six weeks. Garrison, have those to my office by Tuesday.” A pause. “Jenna, your reconciliation methodology stands. We’ll build the findings brief around the migration-artifact framework. Good work.”

“Thank you,” she said. Her voice level. Professional. Giving away nothing.

Garrison stared at his screen. Patel made a note. Her junior turned a page.

Ray picked up his water glass and drank. Set it back down. The small satisfied motion of a man who had drawn the right card at the right moment because he’d stacked the deck before he sat down.

The meeting continued. Four more hours of reconciliation detail — line items, disbursement logs, quarterly cadence reviews. Patel asked questions. Jenna answered them. The adversarial edge was gone from the room. Garrison spoke twice more, both times about peripheral operational details, both times without meeting Jenna’s eyes or Ray’s.

But underneath the clean professional surface, something else was running.

Every time Ray spoke — his voice filling the room, effortless, the voice of a man who had never needed to raise it — the plug shifted inside her. Not because she moved. Because her body clenched around it. Involuntary.

She’d watched him dismantle Garrison. He’d had the sign-off sheet ready. He’d been sitting on it for hours, waiting for the exact moment Garrison committed to his position before producing the document that made the position untenable. The patience of it. The precision. The absolute certainty that the room would move where he pointed it once he decided to point.

She knew this feeling.

She’d felt it on her knees under a conference table with his hand on her head. The silence. The absolute silence in her mind when he said good girl and her body answered before her thoughts could intervene. The same quality was here — diluted, professional, operating through contracts and compliance language instead of his palm on her skull — but the quality was identical. The room was his. She was in the room. And something in her responded to the combination with a submission so automatic it frightened her.

An hour later, Patel asked a follow-up about the Q3 sign-off cadence — routine, no trap in it — and while Jenna was pulling the data, Ray spoke.

“Jenna’s Q3 analysis flagged the anomaly before anyone else saw it. For the record.” He said it to Patel but his eyes moved to Jenna. A glance — half a second, maybe less. Not sexual. Not crude. The brief, warm acknowledgment of a man crediting good work.

And her body responded as if he’d put his hand on her head again.

The plug clenched. Heat spread low in her belly and pooled between her thighs. She felt herself getting wet — not gradually, not building, but sudden, the arousal arriving like a switch thrown. The cotton of her underwear pressing damp against her. Her thighs tightening under the table.

Follow my lead.

A fantasy flashed in her mind. Him in that chair. Her under this table. The same voice — the one that had said Garrison and made a man’s career flash before his eyes — saying come here. Saying open. His hand finding the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair, pulling her forward between his spread thighs. His other hand on his belt — the clink of the buckle, the rasp of the zipper — and his cock coming free, thick and heavy and already hard, the head dark and slick, close enough that she could smell him. The same voice, above the table, still talking to Patel about disbursement timelines, never faltering — and below the table his hand guiding her mouth onto him, the head pushing past her lips, her jaw stretching around his width. The taste of him flooding her tongue. The plug pressing deep as she shifted her knees on the carpet. And his voice — the reconciliation methodology is sound — while her throat worked around the first three inches and her eyes watered and her hand braced against his thigh and his fingers tightened in her hair with a single instruction: deeper.

“Jenna?”

She blinked. The conference room. Patel looking at her over her glasses. The junior’s pen hovering. Ray across the table, one eyebrow slightly raised, the corner of his mouth doing nothing, his eyes doing everything.

“Sorry — could you repeat the question?”

Patel repeated it. Cadence review for the migration window. Jenna answered on autopilot — numbers she knew cold, the analyst’s voice coming out level, composed, professional — and her face betrayed nothing of the fact that thirty seconds ago she’d been imagining this man’s cock in her throat under the table while he defended her work to a room full of people.

Ray’s eyes held hers one beat too long across the table. Then he looked down at his notepad and wrote something. The small motion at the corner of his mouth. He knew. He’d seen something in her face in that half-second — the flush, the pupils, the micro-expression she hadn’t controlled — and he knew.

She spent the next hour answering every question perfectly. Flawlessly. The best work of her career. And underneath it, steady as a second heartbeat: the awareness of him. The way he watched her present — not the content, not the slides. Her. The quiet proprietary attention of a man watching something he considered, on some level that professional language couldn’t reach, already his.

Sixth hour. Patel closing her laptop. The junior capping his pen. Braddock wrapping through the polycom: “I’ll have the reconciliation brief by Tuesday. Good work today. Both of you.” Garrison leaving first, without eye contact, the compressed posture of a man who had walked in planning to bury someone and walked out with his own grave half-dug. Patel shaking Jenna’s hand — firm, professional, a degree warmer than she’d been at noon. The junior nodding. The room emptying.

Ray stood last. Stretched — the motion pulling his shirt across his gut and chest, his full size reasserting itself now that the professional stillness was done. He looked at her across the table where the folders still sat and the polycom light had gone dark.

“Told you.” The grin pulling at one corner. Not kind. Satisfied. The face of a man who had won a room and wasn’t shy about it. “Follow my lead.”

She gathered her laptop. Her notebook. Her pen. Stood on legs that had been sitting too long and were also trembling at the inner thigh in a way that had nothing to do with six hours of sitting.

“Dinner’s at seven,” he said from the doorway. His back already half-turned, hand on the frame — the same posture as same time next week? in her office building after his hand on her head, after good girl. “Braddock wants both of us with the facility leads. After that—” The shrug. The big shoulders lifting and settling. “I’ll be around.”

He left. His cologne stayed. The room was empty and she stood in it with the plug seated full inside her and her underwear soaked through and the wall she’d built in the parking lot — conference room, locked door, phone call to James — still holding.

She’d built the wall for his persistence. For the knock. For the crude proximity she’d described to James.

She hadn’t built it for this.

Dinner was the hotel restaurant because the day ran until seven and neither of them had eaten since the drive. Braddock had wanted both leads with the facility team, but Garrison begged off — the short goodbye of a man still tasting his own blood — and the two facility engineers followed him out. Which left the two-top by the window, a bottle of Malbec Ray ordered before she sat down, and the specific quiet of two people who had just spent six hours winning something together.

She should have gone upstairs. She knew it the way she knew a line item was wrong before pulling the backup — the certainty running ahead of the proof. But she was hungry and tired and still running on the residual hum of the session, the faint buzz in her thighs that was the plug and was also the six-hour memory of watching him work, and her body had sat down before her judgment weighed in.

The first glass was professional. The remediation timeline. Braddock’s sign-off sequence. What Patel needed from her team by Tuesday. Easy. The kind of conversation she could have with her posture straight and her breathing even and the plug behaving itself.

The second glass drifted.

“Garrison’s going to be a problem through Tuesday,” she said, turning her glass on the tablecloth. “He’s embarrassed and embarrassed men get creative with blame.”

“Garrison’s done. He’ll sign off because the alternative is Braddock finding out his team sat on six weeks of discrepancies.” Ray leaned back. The chair protested. “I’ve dealt with a hundred Garrisons. They fold clean once you take the option of not folding off the table.”

“You had that sign-off sheet ready for hours.”

“Since breakfast.”

She shook her head. Almost smiled. “You just sat on it. Through the entire morning session, through Patel’s opening salvo, through Garrison’s whole little performance — you just sat there and waited.”

“Waiting’s what I do.”

“It was surgical.” She said it to her glass. Not to him. “The way you let him build his entire case and then produced the one document that made all of it collapse. He didn’t even know it was over. He was still talking.”

“He was still talking,” Ray agreed. The corner of his mouth doing the thing it did — not a smile, just the movement of a man who enjoyed his own competence the way other people enjoyed food.

A couple at the next table caught her eye — the woman leaning in, laughing at something, and the man across from her glancing sideways toward Jenna. The quick scan she’d been cataloguing since she was nineteen. He took in the face, the cashmere, whatever the V-neck was doing, then looked back at his date and pretended he hadn’t. The woman hadn’t noticed. Jenna had. The restaurant’s ambient confirmation: she was still who she was, sitting across from who she was sitting across from, and anyone walking past this table would wonder what the hell the pairing was. The hot blonde in the cashmere and the man who looked like he sold used cars for a living and ate the inventory.

“You did good work today, Blondie.”

Her eyes came back to him. Hard. “Don’t call me that.”

“Force of habit.”

“Break the habit or I’ll break your kneecap with this wine bottle.”

He grinned. The full one — the one that cracked his face open and showed the teeth and made him look like exactly what he was: a large, sweaty, dangerous man who had just been threatened by a woman half his size and found it charming.

“Jenna.” Correcting himself. The grin staying. “You did good work today.”

“Thank you. So did you.” She drank. Set the glass down. “In a terrifying, morally questionable sort of way.”

“I’ll take it.”

Quiet. The restaurant sounds. Silverware, the couple laughing again, a server opening a bottle somewhere behind them. She watched Ray’s hands on the table — the thick fingers, the rough knuckles, the way they rested on the white cloth like they owned the surface. She’d felt those hands on her head two weeks ago. In a conference room. On her knees. The memory was a powerful thing — it lived in her scalp and her jaw and the low pull below her navel that had been running all day.

She looked away.

“I have something for you upstairs,” Ray said.

She almost laughed. “No.”

“An outfit. Picked it out a couple weeks ago. Had it sent here.”

“Ray.” She put her glass down and looked at him with the version of herself that had filed the HR complaint, the version that had said don’t ask again at the elevator bank and meant it. “You don’t buy me things.”

“Think of it as a celebration.” He spread his hands. The gesture of openness — nothing hidden, nothing threatening. The salesman’s favorite posture. “I just saved the biggest deal of your career. I’m not asking for a medal — I’m asking for a little dress up and a lap dance.”

She stared at him. “A lap dance.”

“Come upstairs. Put the outfit on. Give me five minutes. You’d do that much for an esteemed coworker who saved your quarterly review, wouldn’t you? Plus, it’s not like we don’t have history…”

“I would not give a lap dance to Craig from accounting, no.”

“Craig from accounting didn’t just pull Garrison’s skeleton out of the closet and beat him with it.”

“Craig from accounting doesn’t weigh two-seventy and sweat through dress shirts.”

“You’re not helping your case.”

“I’m not making a case. I’m saying no.”

And underneath the no — beneath it, behind it, in the part of her that had spent six hours clenching around a plug every time his voice filled a room — a flash. Brief and vivid and completely involuntary. Her in something probably pornographic knowing Ray in the warm light of a hotel room, straddling his lap in the armchair, his hands gripping her hips, and his cock — that thick, ugly, impossible cock — hard against her through the fabric while she rolled her hips and felt him twitch against her. The image was there and gone in two seconds and left heat pooling between her thighs like a spill she couldn’t wipe up.

“This — whatever this is — is for my husband,” she said. Not sure why she was explaining. “Whatever you’re imagining — that’s not available. You already took my Saturday by engineering this little field trip. You don’t get the night too.”

“I didn’t engineer anything. Braddock’s compliance team surfaced the —”

“Shut up.” Not angry. Almost amused. The exhaustion and the wine giving her a register she wouldn’t normally use with him. “You sat on that irregularity for weeks and surfaced it the day after mediation cleared you. On a weekend. You’re a lot of things, Ray, but subtle isn’t one of them.”

He looked at her. The small eyes doing their calculation. Then the grin — slow, conceding. “You’re smarter than most people I work with.”

“I’m smarter than all the people you work with. Including you.” She picked up her water glass. “The answer is no.”

“Message received.” He picked up his own glass. Drank. Set it down with the careful placement of a man who had heard no and was not yet done hearing it. “But I hear you.”

He flagged the server. Asked for the check. Dropped three bills on the table without looking at the total. Stood. The chair scraped back and the full mass of him was upright and the table felt smaller without his presence occupying half of it.

“Enjoy your evening, Jenna.” His hand on the back of her chair as he passed — not her shoulder, not her back. The wood of the chair. The barest displacement of air near her neck. “Room seven-fourteen if you change your mind. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“I know.” The grin again, half-turned away, already leaving. “But I like hearing you say it.”

He left. She sat at the table alone. The Malbec was gone. The restaurant was thinning out — the couple at the next table settling their check, a server resetting a four-top. Her phone was in her bag. Her room was upstairs. The plug inside her. The wetness she’d been ignoring for an hour. The image of herself in his lap that she had not asked for and could not entirely unfeel.

She finished her water. Gathered her bag. Went upstairs to her room.
---

Next chapter, newsletter for updates, and discord server for discussion (I do follow some of what people ask for here) in my reddit profile links.

It’s truly crazy to me how we got here. For years she was opposed to my cuckold fantasies. She knew I had been in cuckold relationships before I married her, and she loved it when we were having sex. She would tease me and dirty talk about it while I was inside her.

As corny as it sounds, buying a dildo during Covid is what made her start actually considering it… she didn’t believe a big realistic dildo would make much of a difference in the bedroom. But when I would finish without her cumming I would then fuck her with the dildo… after she shook taking “him” something inside her changed!

Then we went on a resort vacation. This trip changed everything. We had a walkout pool and nobody knew her so she let me take pics of her in a very slutty bikini in front of the pool. I walked around showing guys the pics all week and she was flirted with and hit on like crazy! This of course led to her hanging out in hot tubs with men, dancing with them and by the end of the week she had found a resort boyfriend who fucked her in front of me multiple times.

When we got home from that trip she tried suppressing how much she enjoyed being a hotwife. She tried being the typical suburban soccer mom, but ultimately she couldn’t.

I recently found out about the other man. She met him at the gym, he got her number and started texting her even though he knew she was married. She started to talk about him a lot… “Darrien this” and “Darrien that.”

Then I met him! He’s big, dark, and only about 25 with other friends who also flirt with my wife. They started hanging out alone. At first it was just drinks, but that led to her wanting to look good for him, changing how she dressed for him, shaping her body for him. That led to her talking about him during sex… and I liked it.

One night she asked me to take pictures of her losing in different dresses. Her bent over, her teasing her panties, her with her big black dildo. Truth told is I enjoyed her being like this, and that led to her sending the pics to him saying “take me dancing?” He responded “who took the pics?” And she told him, “my husband “

Now they’re going out together regularly, without me. She hangs out with him and his friends and comes home tipsy, satisfied, and happy. She’s started to confess to me some of what they’re doing, and it’s so hot. I never believed we would get to this point, and yet here we are. My wife has a bf now and I like it.

*Trying something new so feedback welcome 🙏 *

I’ve been with my Girl Friend Sarah for just over 3 years, she’s a very confident, outgoing person and she enjoys playing the dominant role in and out of the bedroom.

I’m more of a quiet, introvert, who enjoys pleasing others, especially Sarah, for my own enjoyment. I work in an office as an engineer and am fairly well off financially.

We’re both in our mid 30’s and I ‘came out’ to her about my submissive kinks early in the relationship, firstly with Financial Domination. She didn’t seem surprised and seemed to take to it naturally. We began going on shopping trips where I essentially acted as her assistant, holding items she picked around the shops while she bossed me about, carrying the bags, and obviously paying for everything.

I told her that I enjoy her ordering me to pay for things or ‘demanding’ my card when she goes out with her friends.

She’s been discrete about it and hadn’t told any of her friends or family (as far as I’m aware), and she never took it too far, always staying within the limits she knows I can stretch to.

We rarely argue and I would say that I trust her fully.

Around a year ago I introduced the idea of cuckolding. Saying how much of a turn on it would be if she were to go on dates with guys, which I would pay for, and she could tease me about it when she came home.

I was over the moon when she agreed to it and she created a Tinder account and had a couple of solo dates, with some sexual contact but didn’t go all the way.

Life seemed great and a few months ago I began thinking a lot about taking the financial domination play to a whole new level by doing a full financial power exchange: Signing over all of my assets (house I bought before we met, live savings account, car etc.) so that everything is in her name…

I found the idea incredibly hot and but was wary of the risks… When I finally plucked up the courage to Sarah I made it clear that nothing would noticeably change but I would be constantly turned on by the power she has over me… knowing that I’m a tenant in ‘her house’ etc. and she could leave me broke at a moment’s notice … the ultimate power exchange… she seemed VERY keen and thought it would be a good way of spicing things up, as we hadn’t had sex in weeks. Not through lack of me trying.

She took the lead and told me that in order to heighten the tension we should abstain from physical contact until everything was signed… I wasn’t to cum until it was all hers…. she certainly knew how to push my buttons!

I wasn’t so horny that I spent the next few days setting the transfers up with my bank and solicitors … both of whom warned me about the risks but I wasn’t too horny to listen.

We visited the solicitors office together and I officially signed over the deeds to my house, £180,000 life savings, my car and my classic motorbike… Sarah had dressed in business attire, with high heels. When the documents were all signed she at me smirking and I almost came in my pants there and then. She told me to drive me back to her house.

When we got through the door I couldn’t wait to finally have a release… she followed slowly up the stairs, her heels clicking as she climbed. She told me to strip and lay on the bed… I did as I was told and laid back, she slid her hand up and down my cock and whispered in my ear ‘everything is mine now’ … I came instantly and she giggled… ‘that was quick’ she laughed. ‘Maybe I need to go on one of my dates to get satisfied properly’ she raised her eyebrows teasingly and continued to chuckle as she left the room.

I lay on the bed, my mind a blur, post nut clarity mixed with feelings of nervousness and excitement.

…….

Later that night Sarah told me that, following our ‘chat’ earlier, she thought it would be fun to get back on Tinder again for some more dates. The thought turned me on immensely but I played it down.

‘That sounds good’ I replied.

‘Errr … I wasn’t ASKING, I was TELLING’ she said playfully… ‘I’m the boss now, remember?’

‘Sorry, of course’ I said keenly.

She laughed ‘That’s better…. Because I found someone familiar on there… my ex Simon.’

My stomach dropped. Sarah had told me about Simon before. They had dated before for several years… He sounded like a true ‘alpha’… tall, muscular, tattooed, and worked in construction…. He had a gambling addiction which led to them breaking up… She had told me previously how devastated she was when they ended it. I knew this would be playing with fire…. But I couldn’t deny how turned on it made me.

She grinned at the look on my face and continued ‘we matched earlier in the week and we’re meeting tomorrow….. you don’t have a problem with that do you?’

I realised that this had been going on while the transfer was being finalised… I felt an uneasy feeling in my gut…

‘Errr… no’ I said sheepishly ‘I love the thought of you having fun’

She burst out laughing ‘oh this is going to be fun alright!’ She continued laughing and got back on her phone.

I walked upstairs and stood in the bathroom looking in the mirror. My body a mix of every emotion; nerves, regret, jealousy, excitement.. but most importantly lust….. What had I let myself in for???

…. To be continued…

A year ago, if you were to call me a cuck I would probably be offended. I was very possessive of my partner and couldn’t imagine sharing her with other men. But now, it’s been a year since I opened up to the idea of my girlfriend of 4 years sleeping with men she desire.

I was 24 years old, an average asian man with multiple sexual partners and encounter before meeting my girlfriend. She was 25 years old, her name is Sarah, a petite asian woman who was a virgin before she met me.

Our relationship has become stale. Not that we fell out of love, we just have been together for so long that we lost the element of anticipations and discovering each other. Especially since we moved in together, things like sex, going on a date, and nights out feels like a routine.

One evening, Sarah suggested an open relationship. I was shocked but also curious. Initially I protested, can’t imagine that I would be okay seeing her going on a date with other men let alone having sex with them. But then, I get overconfident. I missed the sensation of meeting new dates, I was confident that this will be my chance to fuck other women. Days later I told Sarah that I’ve been thinking about what she said and that it is worth a shot.

I failed to get any dates on tinder, barely any match too. Meanwhile, Sarah has been getting a lot of matches and texts but she has yet gone to any dates. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her this upbeat. I can see the sparks she has ever since we opened up.

I’ve given up trying to get dates. I wanted to call it off but don’t want to see her lose the spark she has now. So I told her go ahead, you can have fun if you’d like to don’t worry about me. She wouldn’t tell me but I know there’s 1 or 2 guys she’s gotten interest with but refuse to go on a date with until I landed one myself. Was she being considerate or was it the guilt? I never really find out. Few hours later, she asked for my permission to go on a cafe date with this guy she finds hot. I said okay

He came to pick her up. Sarah shared her phone location with me for her safety. At 3pm Sarah texted me that they have arrived at the cafe. Knowing that she has safely arrived, I went on my day like usual. Hours passed by, barely any contact was made. I checked her location a few times and she was at the cafe. At least I know that she was safe.

I fell asleep after hours of doing chores. When I woke up, it is almost 8pm. The cafe closed at 6 so I’m starting to get worried. I checked her location again and she was at the parking area of the cafe. Tried calling her phone but it rang out. As I was about to panic, she texted me saying that she’s okay and about to head home soon. My eyes glued on the location apps to see if she has moved or not.

Around 9pm they arrived, he dropped her off. I opened the door for her to come in. My face went pale like I’ve seen a ghost. Her white dress all creased, make up all gone, messy hair and she reeked like sex. I froze, I wasn’t prepared by the possibility of her getting fuck on a cafe date. Maybe I was in denial or I wasn’t expecting her to be this slutty, letting a guy get in her pants in the very first date.

The tension broke when she came to hug me and broke down in tears. I had to comfort her and asked if she was okay. Thats when I heard it, something I wish i didn’t at that time. All the time when me and sarah are having sex, I will always use a condom to avoid any pregnancy scare. She explained that when they got in the car, he started kissing her until she got so wet. They got in the backseat. Sarah not having any experience outside from me assume that he will wear a condom. It was too late before she realize it, he was really big and it felt too good that she can’t bring herself to stop him. He can’t pull out in time and finished inside of her.

I froze again. Not only that he’s so much bigger than me, he gets to do it raw with my girlfriend and creampies her before I ever did. I went to buy for her a morning after pill and cheer her up. Im still shaken by what I’ve learned but surprisingly I was rock hard. I tried to reclaimed her, convinced her that it’s okay for us to have raw sex now since she’s going to take morning after pill anyway tomorrow. My dick slid in her pussy so easily. I can feel the gape she had after hours of sex with a guy’s dick size she never experienced before. We didnt fuck for too long, her pussy was bruised and it hurt a little for her to continue so she blow me til I came

After that night, I discovered that aside from the jealousy I was really turned on having her used by men that is better than me. As humiliating it was, theres some feeling I can’t explain that makes me want more.

I’ll post a continuation if youre interested. Things only got more intense and hot from now on but would be too long to tell the whole story of our first year as a cuck couple. Thanks for reading

This story is more on the mild side. This is about how my humiliation kink began.

My wife (who was my girlfriend at the time) used to be really shy about her sexual history. She wouldn’t open up much in the beginning, but the longer we were together, the more comfortable she got. Eventually she told me I was number 15. When I asked how many dicks she’d seen total, she just laughed and said it was too many to even count.
Right after we first had sex, she looked at me and asked how big I was. I got nervous and lied, telling her 6.5 to 7 inches figuring she can’t really tell. She gave me this hesitant “Oh… okay” that didn’t sound very convinced. When I asked why she was asking, she hit me with the usual “It’s perfect” line, but I could tell she had doubts.
That moment stuck with me.

Over time I started wondering how many guys she’d been with who were actually bigger. How many she’d sucked or fucked. The thought messed with my head, but weirdly, it also turned me on in a way I couldn’t explain. Before long I was deep into hotwife porn, jerking off to the fantasy of her getting railed by bigger guys—especially knowing I’d lied about my size.
Fast forward years later to the day she caught me.
She wanted a new vanity in the bathroom and asked me to measure the space, which I did. A little later she decided to jump in the shower with me. As soon as I stripped down, she spotted the tape measure and grinned.
“Let me measure your dick,” she said.
My face went red but my cock started getting hard anyway. She lined it up and read it out loud: “5.5 inches.” Then she laughed and said, “I knew it! It’s not even six inches!”
I was embarrassed as hell. All I could think to say was, “But you still struggle taking it.” She looked at me, still smirking, and replied, “Yeah… to make you feel good.”
I just laughed it off and changed the subject because I was too embarrassed to keep going. But that moment has stayed with me ever since. Making me think that of all the dicks she’s seen, was I that much smaller that she instantly knew I was lying? Did she measure all of the other dicks she had seen?

Recently got back together with my ex(Maddie), after getting back together she admitted to cheating on me multiple times and telling me she will still seek out large cocks. During her “slutty phase” she found a new love of well hung dudes. Up to this point she’s made some comments about how she’s not locked to just my dick in the bedroom, during sex she loves to talk about old hook ups, and even told me she was getting wet thinking about an old fuck buddy.

This weekend we went to one of her friend’s pool parties at their apartment complex. We showed up and there were a ton of people there. I knew a few people and my gf knew almost everyone. I was chatting with some guys when I noticed Maddie was in the pool getting very friendly with 2 guys. After a few minutes I went out to hang out and got pretty much ignored completely. As we each had a few more drinks maddie checked in on me, we hung out and made out in the pool which was hot. She then whispered in my ear she’d be back in a little while. I was caught off guard and before I knew it she was leaving with one of guys she was getting friendly with in the pool. She turned around and blew me a kiss as they walked out of the gate. I was at the pool talking with some other people knowing full well my girl was definitely getting fucked. My cock was hard and I had trouble hiding it.

After 40 minutes or so she came walking back in. Her hair messed up, her body red from sex and her bikini was barely covering her body. She walked up to me with a giant smile. We talked for a second with some friends when she pulled me to a table kinda away and not very visible. She gave me every detail in about 2 minutes. Her mouth was moving a mile a minute she was so excited. She grabbed my hard cock through my swim trunks. I grabbed her inner thighs and slipped a finger inside her loose pussy. I kept going and she pulled out my finger and licked it. Then told me I was fingering his cum. That guy was old FWB. I finger her some more and then licked my own finger. I was so turned on and wanted to fuck her right there. She kissed me, told me some more details, stroked my cock so I was throbbing hard and then walked away to her friends. I had to sit there for a while before I was able to walk around with my boner. A few more drinks later from my gf and she was back in the pool with her old fuck buddy. His hand on her ass and her body was wrapped around him. I stopped drinking to drive home a while back. The day was about over and it was getting dark. Most people started to leave. I was ready to get back to my place, get cleaned up and fuck my girls used pussy. I was helping clean up, I looked to find Maddie and didn’t see her. More people left and I had our bag ready to leave with her phone and things. 5 minutes later she walked out of the attached club house, same red body, hand print on her ass.

She grabbed her things and told me get home as fast as we could. We said our goodbyes and were home in 10 minutes. She laid on my bed, 100% naked, stretched pussy and I dropped to my knees and ate her out for what felt like 30 minutes. My jaw was locked up, my fingers cramping from rubbing her g spot. She definitely came a few times. I sat up and started to fuck her. Her pussy was torn up from the day and I could feel. She was loving it and continued with details of her 2 hook ups. I came in record time and flooded her pussy.

We sat up and started to discuss the day and how we were both feeling. She loved the fun she was able to have, admitted to feeling slightly bad but was comforted when I told her I loved it. We were both naked in bed when she started to suck me off and stroke me. I came on her tits and we jumped up to get ready to find some fireworks. Best 4th of July ever!

Tuesday, June 22, 1999 – 8:45 AM

The ceiling fan spun overhead, its steady, rhythmic whir cutting through the silence of the small apartment bedroom. Jenna’s eyelids fluttered open, the morning sunlight piercing through the cracks of the plastic mini-blinds. For a brief second, she was just a twenty-year-old newlywed figuring out life in a new city. Then, she tried to move her arm.

It felt good to have gotten a good night sleep, but then the sudden, damp warmth of her right hand, still buried deep inside the tight waistband of her white cotton panties, sent a jolt of adrenaline straight through her body reminding her of perhaps why she had slept so well in the first place. She quickly pulled her hand out of her underwear as if she had been busted touching herself by her mother. 

She glanced over, squinting at the corner desk. The Gateway PC monitor was dark, and the cooling fan was quiet. Next to her, Lee’s side of the mattress was vacant and the sheets were already cold, since he’d already left for his early morning shift at Target. She felt sympathy for him, knowing he probably only got four or five hours of sleep, depending on how late he’d stayed up playing his computer games. It didn’t seem fair to her that even though he had to go in to deal with a late night emergency at the store, he was still expected to come right back for his opening shift.  

Lying under the ceiling fan, Jenna caught in a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Her Sunday school lessons from back in East Texas about one of the Fruits of the Spirit being Self-Control, were now screaming at her that she was losing it. She had worn the white cotton underwear set from the night before to feel safe, to create a sense of normalcy against the overwhelming chaos of what had happened in Nikki’s kitchen. 

But even in safety of her own marital bed, the protective white cotton shield she had worn had completely broken down. And when it did, she wasn’t thinking about Lee’s gentle, familiar touch. Instead, her mind had been hijacked by Nikki’s commanding, boundary-defying words, leading to the most corruptive climax she had ever experienced before drifting off to sleep, with the physical evidence of her downfall still lodged in her panties.

The guilt she was feeling was heavy, but there was a darker thought beneath it: she didn’t regret anything she had done so far. 

The empty apartment felt like a void, and Nikki’s voice was the only sound in it right now. And deep down inside, she couldn’t shake the feeling that one day in the future, she might wake up with something other than her own hand inside her panties as a reminder of her lascivious behavior that she had surrendered herself to. 

“Time to get up, you little hussy,” she told herself as she swung her legs out of bed, feeling a bit wobbly when her bare feet met the carpet. 

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, she made her way into the kitchen to make some breakfast. She pulled out the Eggo Waffles from the freezer and dropped two of them into the Sunbeam toaster sitting on the counter. While she was waiting for them to heat up, she fetched the Aunt Jemima syrup from the cabinet and the Country Crock butter from the fridge along with the carton of Minute Made orange juice. 

After finishing her breakfast, Jenna followed her usual morning routine of doing the dishes, making the bed, vacuuming the carpet before settling down to watch her favorite daytime TV shows: The Price is Right and The Young and the Restless.

After her favorite soap wrapped up with another episode of Victor Newman and Jack Abbott’s intense rivalry, Jenna decided to skip lunch. She grabbed her Sony Walkman and headed to the apartment’s small gym to run on the treadmill for an hour before heading back up to shower before her interview at Chili’s.

After her shower, she slipped into the closet, still wrapped in her towel. She rummaged around in the corner where she has stashed the khaki shorts and orange thong bikini, and then brought them both into her bedroom, placing them on the dresser.  

Before putting on the risqué shorts, she found herself seeking the familiar comfort of her old life, so she dropped her bath towel and reached into her dresser and pulled out a clean pair of her matching adolescent-looking white cotton panties . She slid the soft fabric up her thighs, letting the thick, unyielding elastic settle snugly over her hips to blanket her body in safety. 

Next, she grabbed the freshly cropped khaki shorts from the dresser, stepping into them and fastening the top button.  She turned around to check her posture in the mirror, bending slightly to check the fit…… her heart instantly dropped straight into her stomach.

Because Nikki’s scissors had aggressively cut the fabric away to expose her bare thighs, the shorts were now short enough that the thick, bright white cotton edges of her traditional panties were completely, undeniably visible, poking right out from beneath the frayed khaki hem at the back of her legs any time she event slightly bent over.

Jenna gasped, her face burning a furious, deep crimson. If she walked into Chili's like this, Tony, any of the employees working plus any customers who happen to look her way would immediately see her white underwear sticking out of her modified shorts. 

It would look so silly, and worst of all, it would bring up questions that would completely break the secret she was so hard to keep. Her momma’s  traditional cover-up was actually showing, and Jenna knew right then that she couldn’t wear them to the interview.

Trembling, Jenna unbuttoned the khakis and stepped out of the white cotton panties, leaving herself completely bare in front of the mirror. She looked down at the her dresser and picked up the vibrant neon orange thong bikini bottom.

Her hands shook as she stepped into the tiny sliver of orange string, pulling it up over her hips. The contrast between her white cotton panties and the tiny orange thong was dizzying. The smooth, tight nylon pressed directly against her hyper-sensitive, puffy labia, sending an electric shock of raw exhibitionist adrenaline straight up her spine. When she pulled the cropped khaki shorts back on over the thong, she checked the mirror again.

Jenna was thankful white edges were gone and the thong bottom sat so high and narrow on her hips that it was completely invisible from the back. But behind her, her cheeks and thighs were entirely bare against the unyielding khaki fabric, just the way Nikki had designed it, she thought to herself.

And then a thought hit her…….Did Nikki know she would be facing this moment?  Did she know that her traditional panties would be exposed under the shorts and force Jenna to chose between putting the orange thong on, or go without panties just like Lee had made her do on their Honeymoon night during dinner at the Ritz?

She stood there staring at her reflection, her breathing turning shallow as the phantom presence of her mentor completely filled the room. She had tried to hide in her childhood shell, but Nikki’s design had left her zero room to escape. She would soon be walking out of her apartment to a job interview wearing a razor-thin thong bikini beneath a pair of customized, ultra-short shorts, exactly how she had been conditioned to do. 

Standing before her dresser mirror completely topless, still wearing just the shorts, her small-town defense mechanisms screamed at her to show some modesty and at least put on one of her standard white underwire bras. Deeply conflicted, she decided to at least try one on and then slipped the polo over her head, and look at her reflection to see if her conscience would quieten down. 

But the look she saw in the mirror wasn’t quite right. The padded underwire made a firm, conservative barrier under the cotton, smoothing out her chest and taking away the youthful, energetic vibe Nikki had created.

The words of her new mentor barked clearly in her memory: “You need to model this for me just like you were when you first got here, without a bra on.” 

Terrified at the thought of letting Nikki down, her submissive need for approval won out completely as she quickly removed her polo and stripped the bra back off, before putting the polo back on and letting it sit directly against her bare, sun-baked olive skin. 

Jenna knew her mentor wouldn't be pleased when she learned she had hesitated following instructions to the point of putting a bra on before eventually choosing obedience. She also knew there was a chance she might even get in trouble for the brief rebellion, but she would have to cross that bridge when the time came.

Tuesday, June 22, 1999 – 1:45 PM

The air conditioner of Jenna’s black Mitsubishi Eclipse was blowing a steady stream of lukewarm air that did little to cool the sudden, intense flush spreading across her olive skin. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tight at ten and two, her knuckles white, while her mind replayed the frantic wardrobe crisis that had just unfolded in her bedroom.

The Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way” played through the speakers, filling the car with the quintessential boyband song of the summer. She turned the key back to the accessory position, cutting the engine off but keeping the stereo on as she sat in Chili’s parking lot and mentally prepared herself for the interview she was about to have with Tony. 

Every single aspect of the drive felt elevated, raw, and completely ungrounded.  The seatbelt’s thick nylon strap pressed firmly against her chest, physically reminding her that she’d been a good girl and hadn’t worn a bra for this interview, just as Nikki had instructed. 

Underneath her light blue Ralph Lauren polo shirt, her freed breasts rubbed against the soft cotton fabric with every nervous breath she took, causing her nipples to involuntarily perk up and harden beneath the fabric.

As she shifted her weight to press the gas pedal, the physical feedback from her clothing was immediate and jolting. Without the soft, protective barrier of her traditional white cotton underwear, the stiff, unyielding material of her cropped khaki shorts rubbed directly against the thin, smooth nylon of the side-tie neon orange thong bikini bottom. The tiny string sat high and tight on her hips, pulling the fabric snugly against her hyper-sensitive pussy.

The resulting friction was a sharp, electric sensation that made her breath catch in her throat at every red light. It was an inescapable, tactile wire connecting her straight back to Nikki's kitchen the day before.

“I am driving to a job interview wearing a swimsuit bottom,” she repeated frantically to herself, her small-town conscience reeling at the sheer impropriety of her outfit.

Back in East Texas, this level of public exposure would be considered scandalous, a complete violation of the strict boundaries her mother had enforced her entire life. 

She parked the car in the restaurant’s lot, and as she glanced in the rearview mirror, she almost didn’t recognize herself. Her fresh face, the perfect lip gloss, and her squared shoulders—she couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins at the moment.

And she didn’t just look good, she also smelled good too. To end her “please hire me” presentation, she had lightly sprayed on some Ralph Lauren Romance perfume, a gift Lee had given her on her wedding day. Jenna liked how the elegant blend of ginger and white violet filled the cozy interior of her little sports car.

It was quite ironic that she was wearing a Ralph Lauren fragrance, Ralph Lauren Chino shorts, and a Ralph Lauren Polo, all of which Lee had bought for her to give her a preppy good-girl vibe! But, on the other hand, those shorts had been personally modified by Nikki to expose Jenna’s tan legs and highlight her tight cheerleader ass. The blue Polo top looked innocent enough from the distance, but anyone who was close enough would notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it. 

In this moment, Jenna was a beautiful contradiction: a young wife wearing sentimental clothing from her husband, but at the same time, a desperate young girl who was giving up control of her own modesty to Nikki. 

Brushing the internal conflict aside, she checked her reflection in the rearview mirror one last time and smoothed on a fresh layer of cotton-candy-flavored Bonne Bell Lip Smacker to give her pouty lips a brilliant hint of gloss.

With her mind now back in the present, she removed her keys from the ignition, released the seatbelt, grabbed the leather handles of her small Dooney & Bourke purse, pushed the car door open, and stepped out into the crushing Texas heat.

The moment she pulled open the heavy doors of the restaurant, Jenna was hit with a blast of chilled air that smelled heavily of charbroiled burgers, warm corn tortilla chips, and sweet margarita mix. The post-lunch lull had passed, leaving the dining areas relatively quiet, but the energy among the staff was palpable. 

The sudden drop in temperature sent an immediate shiver straight down her spine.  Beneath her freshly cropped khaki shorts, the side-tie neon orange thong bikini reacted instantly to the draft. She could have sworn she felt the smooth, tight nylon chilled against her hyper-sensitive, puffy skin, tightening the string across her hips. The raw friction of the stiff khaki fabric against her uncovered cheeks made her breathing pick up. 

As Jenna walked toward the wooden host stand, her long, toned cheerleader legs were completely exposed by the micro-cut of her khakis. She was noticed immediately; one of the male bartenders and two of the college-aged servers stopped their afternoon prep work to watch her from the distance, their eyes locked onto the tight, high-riding curve of her shorts.  

She felt completely exposed, like every single host and server at the front podium could look straight through her shorts and see the vibrant orange string beneath.

Jenna felt her face burn a deep, crimson pink, the raw exhibitionist adrenaline rushing straight to her core as she realized she was once again on display, but then she remembered the conditioning exercises Nikki had done with her yesterday out by the pool. 

If she could survive being seen by dozens of strangers while wearing a thong bikini, then she could handle the stares from a few guys staring at her obscenely short shorts. 

"Hi there, welcome to Chili's," a pretty hostess with a silver nose ring said, her eyes dipping quickly down Jenna's legs before coming back up. "Just one today?”

“Hi," Jenna murmured in response, her thick East Texas country drawl coming out soft and breathless. "I'm actually here to see Tony. I have an interview scheduled at two o’clock with him.”

"Oh, awesome. Let me go grab him for you," the hostess smiled.

Jenna stood nervously by the stand, smoothing her hands down the frayed, raw edges of her shorts to keep them from riding any higher while she anxiously waited. 

A minute later, a sharp-dressed black man in his early thirties with a bald head, a well-groomed beard, and a crisp, short-sleeved corporate button-down emerged from the kitchen corridor. 

Tony was an ambitious, highly confident assistant manager, and the moment he locked eyes on the petite, athletic brunette waiting in his lobby, his focus sharpened instantly. 

“I’m Tony, one of the assistant managers here,” he said, his voice warm and casual as he extended his hand to shake hers. “Nikki has been telling me all about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to her stories.” 

“Hi, Tony. I’m Jenna, it’s very nice to meet you as well,” she beamed, forcing her dazzling high-school cheerleader smile to lock into place, her country drawl thick and sweet as she shook his hand and held his gaze just like she had been instructed. 

As Tony led her towards a secluded, high-backed corner booth where they could talk comfortably with limited distractions, Jenna walked through the dining room knowing that every single step she was taking was literally a lesson in total physical composure. Because she was terrified that the high side-ties of the thong might somehow become visible above the waistband of her modified shorts, she forced herself to hold her posture completely rigid with her back perfectly straight, her chest pressed confidently against the fabric of her top, and her chin held high. 

Nikki's poolside conditioning was working flawlessly and the thong bikini bottom she was wearing underneath the shorts wasn’t a source of shame; it was an invisible suit of armor.

Jenna slid into the vinyl booth, feeling the cool, smooth surface against her near bare thighs, the tight nylon of the orange thong pressed firmly against her bare center, sending a sharp, intoxicating spark of raw arousal straight up her pelvic area. 

She choked back a soft gasp, quickly snapped back to the present, her gaze now directly onto Tony’s eyes with an unblinking focus that she never would have possessed back in East Texas. She sat up perfectly straight, her chest forward, fully aware that Tony was sitting directly across from her with a perfect, unobstructed view of her contours beneath the light blue cotton polo.

Tony smiled and opened his portfolio, laying out her application, and while he maintained an entirely professional tone, his gaze made a very slow, appreciative sweep down her fitted blue polo. He was completely checking her out, taking in the presentation that he was all but certain Nikki had carefully crafted for him to enjoy at this exact moment. 

As he adjusted his pen, his eyes briefly caught the distinct glint of the platinum wedding band with a shiny princess-cut diamond on her left hand. Even though he noted her wedding ring immediately, his face remained a mask of smooth corporate charm as he spoke.

“Thanks for coming by on such short notice,” he said. “Like I said on the phone when we spoke on Sunday, I don’t technically have a part-time spot open at the moment, but Nikki spoke so highly of you, I promised her I would at least get you in for an interview.”

“Oh it’s nothing.  We live close by, so it’s no problem at all. And Nikki... wow, she has been an absolute God-send for me. It’s been nice to finally make a friend here.”

“Yeah, she is a special lady for sure and a close, personal friend of mine,” Tony replied, a slow smile playing on his lips as his eyes flickered briefly down before meeting her gaze again. “She tells me you recently moved here to the big city? What brought you here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“That’s a good question...” Jenna relied softly, her submissive persona shifting comfortably under his authoritative managerial gaze. “I recently got married, and my husband accepted a job offer as an assistant manager at Target here in town. As soon as we got back from our honeymoon, we packed up and moved here at the end of May. He started work the first part of June and I’ve been unpacking our apartment and looking for a part-time waitressing job ever since. I can really work any time over the summer, but I start my junior year of college in the fall at UTA, so I can only work part-time hours then.”

“Sounds like you are experiencing a LOT of new things all at once. I hope it’s more exciting than scary for you,” Tony noted, leaning forward on the table, his posture confident. “What are you studying in college?”

“I want to be an elementary school teacher,” Jenna replied.

“Oh, and what makes you want to do that for a living, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, first I can say that I absolutely love working with children, especially younger ones. They bring so much joy and energy!” she exclaimed softly, her youthful enthusiasm surfacing completely. “And second, my mom is a teacher, and she has also really enjoyed doing that. Plus, teachers get the summers off and get lots of breaks throughout the school year.”

"It sounds like you are working towards getting a great education and learning how to do things that you’ll truly enjoy, Jenna. That’s always the best path to follow, something that lets you unleash your inner passions,” Tony said, dropping in subtle double-meanings that went completely over Jenna’s head. 

Do you happen to know what your school schedule will look like yet in the fall?” Tony asked, his pen hovering over her application layout.

“Yes, I’m taking classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, so I could work anything Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday.” 

“If we needed you on a Friday night after your classes were finished, would that be possible?”

“Maybe not every Friday night, but I’m hoping to get as many shifts as possible so I can help pay for my school expenses, so I’m sure that would be fine.  Plus with my husband putting in so many long hours at his job, it’s not like I will have much else going on besides school.  Well, hopefully hanging out more with Nikki too,” she replied. 

“You mentioned your husband works for Target,” Tony said, his gaze intentionally tracking the way the thin fabric of her polo laid against her bare skin hidden beneath as she breathed. “One of our waitresses here just graduated college and recently got a job at Target as well. She still picks up shifts every now and then when she can, but from what she tells me, managers there put in a lot of hours, so she usually only works here once or twice a month now on her days off. 

That pretty much validates what you are sharing about your husband working so many hours up there. Since Susan’s name is on your list of referrals, I’m assuming you two know each other and might have even talked about the demanding work hours at Target,” Tony asked.

“Yes, my husband introduced me to her up at the store,” Jenna nodded compliantly, her drawl smooth and sweet. “He told her I was looking for a job and she introduced me to Nikki a few days later, which I guess is how I’m lucky enough to be talking with you now. And yes… I am learning the hard way that Target expects its managers to put in long hours. When they made Lee the job offer they said it would be around fifty hours per week, but he is working at least sixty hours or more per week right now. That leaves me with a lot of time alone at the apartment. So like I said, with my husband working so many long hours, I’m happy to pick up as many shifts as possible over the summer and then anytime you need me outside of my class schedule once I start school in the fall.”

“Well, the more flexible you are, the more likely you will be able to pick up shifts,” Tony said, his voice dropping into a slightly more authoritative vibration that made Jenna's skin tingle under the cool air conditioning vent. “And once we see if this is a good fit for you, there might even be some days where you can pick up double shifts occasionally. I see on your application that you have previous experience as a waitress?”

“Yes, I worked as a server at the Golden Corral back home. I worked there nights and weekends for almost two years while I was in community college,” Jenna replied. 

Tony leaned back in the booth, his eyes tracing the clean lines on her collarbones before responding.  

“It’s great that you’ve got some experience, but as you already know, Golden Corral is a family-friendly spot where alcohol isn’t served. While we do have many families come in to enjoy our food here at Chili’s, we also attract a rowdy crowd, including older guys and college boys. Once they get a few drinks in them, it can sometimes get a bit lively, and some of them might be a bit too forward and even handsy with our waitresses. Do you think you’re up for that kind of environment?”

“I’ve had guys hit on me at Golden Corral a few times, but I felt like I handled it okay then,” Jenna murmured sheepishly, her voice dropping into a quiet, submissive purr as she held his eyes. “I just brushed it off and tried to stay calm and pleasant.  Kill them with kindness is always my go-to in difficult situations like that,” Jenna explained.

“Well, if you were to get hired here and things were to ever get too far out of hand where killing them with kindness doesn’t work, just come find me or one of the other managers,” Tony said, leaning forward again, his professional boundary perfectly intact but his eyes delivering a heavy, masculine validation. “I expect that our female staff members can handle ninety percent of what might come their way, but there are always those ten percent situations where a manager might need to get involved.”

Tony tapped his pen against the portfolio, shifting the direction of his questions to focus strictly on the specific high-volume culture that corporate casual required.

"Now, Jenna, here at Chili's we operate under a very specific corporate mindset. We call it our 'playhouse' culture. That means we expect our servers to completely balance having a ton of fun on the floor with getting the job done with absolute speed and hustle. Chili's is notoriously busy, especially on the weekends when the volume gets heavy. How do you keep things lively and fun when you're forced to push through that kind of fast-paced rush?”

Jenna adjusted her posture, her hands smoothing over her bare thighs as Nikki’s kitchen script flashed instantly into her mind.

"Oh, well, back when I was a high school cheerleader, our coach trained us to never let our energy drop no matter how intense or stressful the game got," Jenna replied, her smile bright and animation flowing effortlessly. “I would bring that same energy that I brought as a cheerleader to work every shift if given this opportunity. To me, keeping a fast pace and making sure everyone is laughing and having a great time is the absolute best way to handle a heavy rush. I find so much joy in keeping my speed up and pushing through a busy room with a bright smile.”

Tony nodded, visibly impressed by the seamless fit of her cheerleader background into being an effective server. "That's exactly the kind of hustle we look for. Now, another major standard we enforce here is a complete focus on teamwork and pre-bussing. We rely heavily on open communication and shared responsibilities among the staff. If you see another server drowning, what's your immediate move?” 

“I consider myself a people-pleaser, so back at Golden Corral, I loved stepping in to help whenever a teammate was swamped,” Jenna answered eagerly, her thick country drawl sweet and cooperative. "I made it a point to constantly practice pre-bussing my tables, clearing away empty plates and glasses the second my custom….., I mean guests,  are finished with them so the table stays perfectly clean. And if I see someone else running behind, I'll immediately jump in to grab their drink orders or help pre-buss their section too. To me, a team only works if we're all communicating and chipping in together.”

Tony smiled widely, leaning back as he noticed her language alignment. Jenna had not only been coached on what to wear to the interview, she had obviously also been coached on key words to work into her answers during the interview, he thought to himself.

”I love that you used the word 'guests,' Jenna. That is a strict corporate rule for us. We never refer to the people we serve as “customers”—they are always our guests, and treating them with that level of high-class hospitality is everything. Your instinct for pre-bussing and speed is excellent.”

He closed his leather portfolio with a decisive, professional snap, though his eyes lingered one final time on the explicit perk of her nipples underneath the blue polo. 

"Well, Jenna, you gave some fantastic answers today, and your presentation vibe fits exactly what we want here. I don't make hiring offers right on the spot during the initial interview, as I need to run through the rest of our candidate pool and touch base with my management team first. Since you put Susan and Nikki down as references, I am going to call both of them this week. I also see you listed your GM, Tommy, from the Golden Corral back in your hometown. I will probably give him a call as well to get his take on how you might do here. You should be hearing from us very soon one way or another.”

"Oh, thank you so much, Tony! I appreciate you so much for considering me," Jenna beamed, sliding out of the booth. As she stood up, her ultra-short Ralph Lauren shorts seemed to ride high on her bare glutes, pulling the frayed hemline tightly across her rounded cheerleader physique, a detail Tony definitely noticed!

Walking back across the dining room toward the exit, her long, sun-kissed legs drew an intense wave of visual tracking from the entire afternoon crew.  The two college-aged male servers clearing a nearby table openly stopped their conversation to watch her walk past, their eyes locked onto her backside, while a hostess whispered to her coworker at the front stand. Jenna pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped back out into the blinding sun, her body completely buzzing with a feeling that she had done well in the interview. 

Back inside the restaurant, Tony stood near the service terminal, his eyes tracking her black Mitsubishi Eclipse through the front windows until it pulled out of the parking lot. Charlie, one of the veteran bartenders who had been wiping down a nearby tray stand, casually strolled over to the terminal, a wide grin on his face.

"Man, you’ve got to hire that girl," Charlie said, shaking his head with a low laugh. "Did you see how those shorts fit her? She has an absolute world-class ass! The college guys will go crazy, and she'll pull in insane tips.”

Tony let out a slow, knowing chuckle, leaning against the terminal counter as a smug expression crossed his face. “No doubt, that country girl is fine as hell, and she’s certainly got a ‘bright future behind her.’”

He paused, tapping his pen against his closed portfolio as he recalled the wedding ring on her finger. "But she's married, Charlie. Her husband is some new manager up at the Target.”

“I want it that way!  Married pussy, especially young married pussy like that…….is my absolute favorite!” Charlie arrogantly proclaimed. 

Tony continued to listen to the cocky bartender give him an earful about all the reasons he needed to hire the young married girl before smiling smoothly, his dark eyes looking back at the empty corner booth across the room.

“Yeah……I'm going to call Nikki right now and see what the real deal is.”

“Oh… damn,” Charlie replied, a slow, knowing grin breaking across his face. “She’s one of Nikki’s girls? Like Susan was? Well, that just made things even more interesting, didn’t it?”

Previous Chapter

Jonas suddenly pulled out of her with a wet sound, making Jenna whimper at the sudden emptiness. Before she could react, he grabbed her hips and effortlessly flipped her onto her back on the wide lounge chair.

Aiden’s heart clenched violently as he watched.

Jonas climbed on top of her, his much larger, heavier body covering Jenna’s. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Their mouths crashed together in a wild, sloppy kiss — deep, hungry, and passionate. Jonas’s hips rolled forward, sinking his thick cock back into her soaked pussy in one smooth thrust.

Jenna moaned loudly into his mouth, her legs tightening around him.

Aiden felt a vicious spike of jealousy stab through his chest.

She’s never wrapped her legs around me like that…

He watched as Jonas began fucking her harder now — deep, powerful strokes that made Jenna’s breasts bounce with every thrust. Their kiss never broke. Jenna’s hands roamed over Jonas’s broad back, her nails digging into his dark skin as she pulled him deeper.

The jealousy burned.

Aiden had never seen his wife like this — so lost in raw, animalistic pleasure. Her legs were locked around another man, heels digging into his ass, urging him on. She was kissing Jonas like she needed him to breathe. Moaning into his mouth like she belonged to him.

And then Jenna suddenly broke the kiss. She turned her head toward Aiden, eyes glassy and unfocused, cheeks flushed deep red.

“I’m sorry…” she gasped, voice trembling as Jonas continued pounding into her. “Aiden… I’m so sorry—”

Her words cut off into a sharp cry as another orgasm ripped through her.

Her eyes rolled back. Her entire body arched and shook violently beneath Jonas. Her legs tightened around his waist like a vice as her pussy spasmed hard around his cock. She came harder than Aiden had ever seen her cum before — gushing around Jonas, her moans turning into helpless, broken sobs of pleasure.

She had never once cum from penetration alone with Aiden.

Not in all their years together.

She had always needed her clit played with — fingers, tongue, a vibrator. But here she was, cumming repeatedly on Jonas’s cock with nothing but his thick shaft stretching and pounding her.

Aiden felt like he was being torn apart.

The jealousy was excruciating. Seeing his wife experience a level of pleasure he had never been able to give her — watching her legs wrapped around another man, watching her apologize to him while she came undone on Jonas’s cock — it broke something deep inside him.

But his own cock was harder than steel, throbbing painfully as he watched his wife shatter in ways he never thought possible.

Jonas kept thrusting through her orgasm, groaning in pleasure as he fucked her through it, claiming her completely while Aiden stood there witnessing every second.

Jenna’s tear-filled eyes found Aiden’s again as the climax slowly faded. The look she gave him was devastating — love, guilt, shame, and raw ecstasy all at once.

Jonas kept thrusting into her with deep, powerful strokes, his heavy body pinning her down to the lounge chair. He leaned over her, lips brushing her ear as he growled:

“This is exactly why I always told you… you were built for Black men.”

Jenna’s eyes widened, a broken whimper escaping her as another deep thrust sent sparks exploding through her body.

She wanted to deny it. She needed to deny it.

But she couldn’t.

Her pussy was stretched so tightly around his thick cock, gripping him, fluttering, creaming all over his shaft with every thrust. Her legs stayed locked around his waist, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper even as her mind screamed at her to stop. Every stroke hit places inside her she didn’t even know existed. The pleasure was overwhelming — raw, primal, and completely unlike anything she had ever felt with Aiden.

Oh God… he’s right…

The thought made her want to cry.

She had never felt this full. This taken. Her body was responding to him in ways it had never responded to anyone — gushing, clenching, trembling uncontrollably. She could feel another orgasm already building, frightening in its intensity.

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she looked at Aiden again. Her husband was still on his knees just a few feet away, watching everything.

I'm so sorry… I don’t want to hurt you… I don’t want to betray you like this…

But she couldn’t stop herself.

Her hips were rolling up to meet Jonas’s thrusts. Her nails were digging into his back. Soft, desperate moans kept pouring from her mouth as he fucked her harder.

“I’ve never… felt like this…” she gasped, voice cracking. “Never… oh fuck… it’s too much…”

Jonas smiled against her neck, driving into her even deeper.

“That’s because you’ve never had a real man before, baby. This pussy was made for this. Made for me.”

Jenna sobbed with pleasure, her head falling back as the next orgasm began to crash over her. She tried to fight it — tried so hard not to cum again in front of her husband — but her body wouldn’t listen.

Her legs tightened around Jonas as her pussy spasmed violently around his cock, another powerful orgasm ripping through her. She cried out sharply, her entire body shaking as she came hard, soaking his cock and the lounge chair beneath her.

Even as the pleasure consumed her, shame burned through her chest.

She had never cum like this with Aiden.

Not even close.

And now, in front of the man she loved more than anything, she was falling apart on another man’s cock — again and again — completely unable to stop herself.

Jonas kept fucking her through it, groaning in satisfaction as her pussy milked him relentlessly.

Jenna’s tear-filled eyes found Aiden’s once more.

The guilt was crushing.

But the pleasure… the pleasure was winning.

Jonas gripped Jenna’s thighs and pushed her legs back toward her chest, folding her in half beneath him. The new angle opened her up completely.

“Oh fuck—!” she cried out as he drove into her deeper than before.

The physical sensations were overwhelming.

She felt split open. Jonas’s thick cock speared into her with long, powerful strokes, reaching places inside her she didn’t know existed. Every thrust bottomed out against her cervix, sending sharp sparks of painful pleasure radiating through her core. Her pussy was stretched to its absolute limit around his girth — a burning, aching fullness that somehow melted into liquid ecstasy with every stroke. The wet, obscene sounds of her soaked pussy being fucked filled the air as he drove into her harder.

Her legs trembled violently in his grip. Her toes curled. Her heavy breasts bounced wildly with every impact. Each deep thrust forced the air from her lungs in sharp, broken moans.

Emotionally, she was shattering.

He’s so deep… I can’t… I can’t take this…

Guilt tore through her as she felt Aiden’s eyes on her. She was supposed to be his. His wife. His good girl. And yet here she was — legs pinned back, pussy stretched obscenely around another man’s cock, moaning like a whore in their neighbor’s backyard.

But the guilt only made everything more intense.

The vulnerability was excruciating. She was completely exposed — physically, emotionally, sexually. There was nowhere to hide. Aiden could see everything: her face twisted in ecstasy, her tits bouncing, her pussy gripping Jonas’s thick shaft as it disappeared inside her again and again.

He’s watching me get ruined… and I can’t stop cumming for him…

Jonas leaned over her, pinning her legs back even further as he started fucking her with deep, punishing strokes. The new angle made his cock grind against her G-spot with every thrust.

Jenna’s eyes rolled back. A raw, desperate sob of pleasure tore from her throat.

“I’m— I’m cumming again—!” she cried out, unable to hold it back.

Her entire body seized up. Her pussy clamped down violently around Jonas’s cock as another devastating orgasm ripped through her. She gushed around him, soaking his shaft and balls as her walls fluttered and milked him desperately. Her legs shook uncontrollably in his grip. Tears streamed down her face.

She had never felt pleasure like this in her life.

Never this deep.

Never this overwhelming.

Never this wrong.

And still, Jonas kept fucking her through it — hard, deep, relentless — claiming her completely while her husband watched every second of her surrender.

Jenna was lost.

Completely, utterly lost.

---

Jenna’s hand suddenly reached out toward Aiden, fingers trembling.

Even as Jonas pinned her legs back and fucked her with deep, powerful strokes, she stretched her arm desperately toward her husband, eyes glassy and pleading.

“Aiden…” she gasped, voice breaking. “Hold my hand… please…”

Aiden moved forward instantly, on his knees beside the lounge chair and grabbing her hand tightly. Their fingers interlaced, wedding rings pressing against each other.

The moment their hands connected, a devastating wave of love and pain crashed through him.

Even now… she still wants me.

Here she was — legs pinned back, pussy stretched obscenely around Jonas’s thick cock, moaning like she was being ruined — and yet she was reaching for *him*. She was holding onto him. In the middle of surrendering her body so completely to another man, she was still emotionally reaching for her husband.

It broke him in the most beautiful and painful way possible.

He felt an overwhelming surge of love for her. This wasn’t just lust. She was terrified and vulnerable and still needed him — needed that connection, that anchor. Even while another man was claiming her pussy in ways he never could, she refused to let go of his hand.

But there was also a sharp, stinging heartbreak.

Because no matter how tightly she held his hand, Jonas was still the one inside her. Jonas was the one making her moan like that. Jonas was the one stretching her, filling her, making her cum over and over again in ways Aiden never had.

The contrast was brutal.

Aiden squeezed her hand harder, tears burning in his eyes as he watched his wife’s face contort in ecstasy with every deep thrust. Her fingers gripped his desperately, like he was her lifeline in the middle of a storm.

She’s still mine, he thought, clinging to that idea. Even like this… she’s still choosing me too.

Jenna’s eyes stayed locked on his as Jonas fucked her harder. Every moan, every gasp, every tremble of her body traveled through their joined hands. She was being claimed by another man, but she was holding onto her husband like her life depended on it.

Aiden had never felt more loved.

He had never felt more devastated.

He had never been more aroused in his entire life.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it tenderly, even as Jonas continued to pound into his wife, driving her closer and closer to another shattering orgasm.

“I’m here, baby,” Aiden whispered against her fingers, voice cracking. “I’ve got you.”

Jenna’s eyes filled with fresh tears as she squeezed his hand even tighter, moaning loudly as Jonas drove into her again and again.

In that moment, the three of them existed in a strange, twisted, intimate triangle — Jenna caught between the two men, physically surrendering to one while emotionally clinging to the other.

And Aiden held on with everything he had.

Jonas kept pounding into Jenna with deep, rhythmic strokes, her legs still pinned back as her pussy stretched around his thick cock. He turned his head and looked straight at Aiden, a arrogant, knowing smirk on his face.

“Is this what you’ve been fantasizing about, Aiden?” he asked, his voice steady despite the power of his thrusts. “All those nights you dressed your pretty blonde wife up like a little slut for me… is this what you were imagining? Your sweet wife getting fucked by your Black neighbor? Bent over and taking this big cock while you watch?”

Jenna moaned loudly, her face burning with humiliation at Jonas’s words. She tried to hide her face against the cushion, but Jonas grabbed her chin and turned her head toward her husband.

“Look at him while I fuck you,” he growled.

Then he spoke to Aiden again, never missing a stroke.

“Hear that? Listen to how she’s cumming for me. Is that making your little dick hard? Knowing another man is stretching your wife’s pussy in ways you never could?”

His words hit both of them like a whip.

Jenna cried out sharply as a fresh, devastating orgasm slammed into her. The combination of Jonas’s brutal thrusts and his filthy taunting pushed her over the edge again. Her pussy clenched violently around his cock, gushing wetly as her body convulsed beneath him. Her eyes stayed locked on Aiden’s, wide with shame and overwhelming pleasure, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Oh god… I’m cumming again…” she whimpered helplessly, her voice cracking.

Aiden stood there, trembling, his cock painfully hard in his shorts as he watched his wife fall apart on Jonas’s cock for the third time. The humiliation burned through him, but so did an intense, shameful arousal. Every moan, every wet slap of skin, every broken cry from Jenna’s lips made his stomach twist and his dick throb.

Jonas laughed lowly, still driving into her through her orgasm.

“Look at your husband, baby. Look how hard he is watching you get fucked like a slut.”

Jenna’s eyes fluttered, barely able to focus, but she kept them on Aiden as another powerful wave rolled through her body, her pussy milking Jonas’s thick cock as she came undone right in front of her husband.

The raw, filthy reality of the moment hung heavy between all three of them.

Jonas didn’t slow down.

He kept fucking her through her climax, eyes locked on Aiden with dark satisfaction, daring him to look away.

---

Jonas suddenly pulled out of her with a wet, obscene sound.

Jenna whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her stretched pussy clenching around nothing. Before she could catch her breath, Jonas lay back on the wide lounge chair, his massive cock standing thick and proud, glistening heavily with her creamy juices.

Aiden couldn’t look away.

Jenna’s pussy was gaping — visibly stretched open, red and swollen, a perfect ruined ring where Jonas had been. Her inner lips were puffy and parted, her hole still twitching and slowly closing after being fucked so thoroughly. A thick trickle of her own arousal leaked out and ran down toward her ass.

Jenna looked at Aiden for a long moment, her face flushed with shame and lingering pleasure. Then her eyes drifted down to Jonas’s cock — slick, shiny, and still rock-hard.

Without a word, she dropped to her knees between Jonas’s spread legs.

Aiden’s breath caught in his throat.

Jenna leaned forward and dragged her tongue slowly up the entire length of Jonas’s cock, tasting herself all over him. She moaned softly as she licked her own creamy juices off his thick shaft, cleaning him with long, devoted strokes of her tongue. She kissed the head, then swirled her tongue around it, savoring the filthy mix of their combined flavors.

Jonas groaned in pleasure, one hand resting on the back of her head.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured. “Clean your mess off my cock.”

Jenna’s eyes flicked up toward Aiden again as she continued licking and kissing Jonas’s glistening shaft. There was shame in her gaze… but also a dark, undeniable hunger. She looked almost dazed as she worshipped the cock that had just ruined her, licking every drop of her own cum from it like she couldn’t get enough.

Aiden stood there, heart pounding, watching his wife on her knees willingly cleaning another man’s cock with her mouth — tasting herself on him after being fucked senseless.

Jenna took the head into her mouth again, sucking gently, her tongue swirling as she cleaned him thoroughly. Her hand stroked the thick base while she worked, completely focused on pleasing Jonas.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Or more completely lost to the moment.

The summer sun continued to shine down on them as Jenna knelt there, naked and obedient, licking and sucking her own juices off Jonas’s big Black cock while her husband watched in stunned silence.

Jonas sat up on the lounge chair and pulled Jenna toward him with ease. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing, his strong hands gripping the backs of her thick thighs and spreading her legs wide as he brought her down onto his lap.

Jenna straddled him, breathing hard. She reached between them with a trembling hand, grasping his thick, glistening cock and lining it up with her soaked, freshly-fucked pussy. She sank down onto him with a long, shuddering moan as he stretched her open once again.

“Oh god…” she whimpered, her head falling forward as she took him deeper in this new position.

Jonas’s hands stayed under her thighs, holding her spread open as he guided her movements, slowly bouncing her on his massive cock. Her heavy breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples hard and sensitive.

Aiden, still kneeling beside them, leaned in without hesitation. He cupped Jenna’s flushed face and kissed her deeply.

He didn’t care that her lips had just been wrapped around Jonas’s cock. He didn’t care that she still tasted like another man. If anything, it only fueled his arousal even more.

Jenna moaned into her husband’s mouth as Jonas thrust up into her, bouncing her on his lap. Aiden kissed her with raw hunger, tasting the filthy mix of her, Jonas, and himself on her tongue. The kiss was messy, desperate, and full of love — a strange, beautiful anchor in the middle of her surrender.

Jenna’s hand reached out and clutched Aiden’s shirt tightly as Jonas fucked her harder, lifting her up and slamming her back down onto his thick cock with powerful strokes. Her moans poured into Aiden’s mouth with every thrust, her body jolting between them.

Aiden pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his forehead pressed against hers.

“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely, voice thick with emotion and lust.

Jenna’s eyes were glassy, her lips trembling as Jonas continued to bounce her on his cock.

“I love you too,” she gasped, right before another moan tore from her throat.

She was caught between the two men — kissing her husband passionately while another man’s thick cock stretched and filled her completely. Her body rocked between them with every powerful thrust, her breasts bouncing, her pussy creaming around Jonas as she surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Jenna was completely lost in the moment.

Straddling Jonas on the lounge chair, she rode him with slow, deep rolls of her hips, taking his massive cock as far as her body would allow. Her heavy breasts bounced with every movement as she braced her hands on his broad chest.

Jonas’s large hands gripped her thick, round ass, kneading and spreading her cheeks as she rode him. His fingers dug into her soft flesh possessively, pulling her down harder onto his cock with every descent.

“Fuck, this ass feels perfect,” Jonas groaned, squeezing her cheeks roughly. “So thick and soft… made for riding big cock. You feel that, baby? This pussy was built to take me.”

He looked over at Aiden, who was still kneeling beside them, transfixed.

“Admit it, Aiden,” Jonas said with a smirk, still kneading Jenna’s ass. “Your wife was built for fucking. Built for this."

Aiden’s throat was dry. No words came out. He could only stare — completely mesmerized by the sight of his wife’s soaked pussy sliding up and down Jonas’s thick, glistening cock. The way her lips stretched around his girth. The way her ass jiggled every time she took him deep.

He gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod.

That was all it took.

Jonas’s filthy words, Aiden’s silent admission, the feeling of her ass being spread and kneaded, and the deep, relentless thrusting of Jonas’s cock inside her — it all pushed Jenna over the edge once again.

“Oh god—!” she cried out, her head falling back.

Her pussy clenched violently around Jonas’s cock as another powerful orgasm ripped through her. Her entire body shook, thighs trembling as she ground down hard, taking him as deep as possible. A fresh gush of wetness soaked his shaft and balls as she came hard, moaning brokenly into the morning air.

Jonas groaned in pleasure, gripping her ass tighter and pulling her down onto him, holding her there as she rode out her climax, her walls fluttering and milking his thick cock.

Jenna’s eyes found Aiden’s again through the haze of her orgasm. The look she gave him was pure, shattered ecstasy mixed with overwhelming love and guilt.

She was cumming harder than she ever had in her life — on another man’s cock, in front of her husband — and she couldn’t stop herself.

Jonas kept her pinned down on his cock, letting her tremble and pulse around him as her orgasm slowly faded, his hands still possessively kneading her ass the entire time.

Jenna’s mind was a whirlwind as she rode Jonas, her hips rolling in deep, instinctive motions.

How did I get here?

The thought kept repeating as she looked down between her legs. She was completely naked, straddling their older Black neighbor on his patio lounge chair in broad daylight. Her pussy was stretched obscenely around his thick cock, sliding up and down its impressive length. This was something she had never imagined in her wildest dreams — especially not with someone like Jonas.

He was so different from Aiden.

Jonas was dark-skinned, heavyset but powerfully built, old enough to be her father. His body showed the signs of age — a soft belly, some gray in his chest hair — yet he felt stronger, more masculine, more *dominant* than her husband ever had. His hands were big and rough as they gripped her ass, guiding her movements. His presence alone made her feel small and feminine in a way that both thrilled and terrified her.

But it was his cock that was destroying her.

It felt massive inside her. Thick, heavy, and veined, it stretched her walls to their absolute limit with every descent. She could feel every ridge, every pulse as she sank down onto him. The head was so fat it rubbed against places deep inside her that made her eyes roll back. When she took him especially deep, it pressed firmly against her cervix, sending sharp, overwhelming sparks of pleasure-pain through her core.

It was so much thicker than Aiden’s. So much longer. The fullness was addictive. Every time she lifted up, her pussy seemed to cling to him, reluctant to let go. Every time she sank back down, she felt herself being opened up again, reshaped around him. The wet, squelching sounds of her soaked pussy taking him were obscene and humiliating… and they only turned her on more.

This is so wrong… he’s nothing like Aiden… he’s older… he’s Black… he’s our neighbor…

Yet her body was responding with a hunger she couldn’t control. Her pussy kept fluttering and creaming around his thick shaft, making every glide smoother and wetter. She had never felt this full. This stretched. This claimed.

And then there was Aiden.

Her sweet, loving husband was kneeling right beside them, watching everything. His eyes were wide, his face flushed, his cock visibly hard in his shorts. The sight of him there — aroused, heartbroken, and completely mesmerized by the view of her riding another man — sent a fresh wave of shame and twisted pleasure through her.

He’s watching me… he’s seeing me like this… seeing how much I’m enjoying another man’s cock…

The guilt was crushing. She loved Aiden more than anything. She hated hurting him. But knowing he was right there, witnessing her complete surrender, somehow made everything feel even more intense. The vulnerability of being seen like this — naked, moaning, fucking their neighbor — pushed her closer to the edge again.

She looked into Aiden’s eyes as she rode Jonas harder, unable to stop the soft, desperate moans escaping her lips.

I'm so sorry, baby… but it feels so good… I’ve never felt anything like this…

Jonas’s cock throbbed inside her, hitting that perfect spot with every roll of her hips, and Jenna felt another powerful orgasm beginning to build.

Jonas suddenly pulled out of her, making Jenna whimper at the loss. In one powerful motion, he flipped her onto her back on the wide lounge chair. He wanted control now. He was getting close, and he needed to fuck her the way he wanted.

He moved over her, his heavy body settling between her spread thighs. Jenna instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he leaned down and kissed her deeply. Their tongues met in a hungry, desperate kiss as Jonas lined himself up and thrust back into her soaked pussy in one smooth, powerful stroke.

Jenna moaned loudly into his mouth, her back arching as he filled her again.

Aiden was completely transfixed.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his wife beneath Jonas. Her left hand was pressed against Jonas’s broad, dark back, her wedding ring catching the bright sunlight with every thrust — a constant, glittering reminder of her vows. Her thick thighs flexed and trembled around Jonas’s waist as she took every inch of him. But it was the way her toes curled tightly, her feet flexing in the air with every deep thrust, that really destroyed Aiden.

Jenna was lost in pleasure.

Her deep, throaty moans and desperate little pleas spilled out between kisses.

“Oh god… Jonas… fuck… you’re so deep…”

Her voice cracked as Jonas started fucking her harder, driving into her with long, possessive strokes. Her body jolted beneath him with every impact. Her breasts bounced heavily between them. Her toes curled even tighter, her feet pointing as waves of pleasure rolled through her.

Aiden watched every detail with a mixture of heartbreak and overwhelming arousal. The contrast was devastating — his sweet wife, wearing his ring, moaning another man’s name while her body surrendered completely to him.

Jonas broke the kiss just enough to growl against her lips, “That’s it, baby. Take this cock. Your husband’s watching you get fucked like you were meant to be fucked.”

Jenna whimpered, her eyes fluttering open to find Aiden’s again. Her hand stayed pressed against Jonas’s back, wedding ring shining as her body rocked with every powerful thrust.

She looked completely ruined.

And more beautiful than Aiden had ever seen her.

Her toes curled harder. Her moans grew louder and more desperate. Her thighs squeezed tightly around Jonas as another orgasm began building rapidly inside her.

She was right on the edge again.

And this time, Aiden could tell — it was going to be an even bigger one.

Jonas’s thrusts grew deeper and more urgent, his heavy body pressing her into the lounge chair as he fucked her with powerful strokes. His breathing was ragged against her neck.

“Fuck, baby… I’m about to cum,” he growled. “Where do you want it?”

Jenna’s mind was flooded with images — the thick, powerful ropes of cum he had painted across her tits and face before. The sheer volume. The way it had felt hot and heavy on her skin. The decadent, forbidden thought of letting him finish inside her… of a man who wasn’t her husband flooding her womb with his seed.

She was on the pill. She knew it was “safe.” But the primal fear still hit her — the risk, the wrongness, the irreversible line she was about to cross.

Still, his cock felt so good. So deep. So right inside her right now.

She looked at Aiden.

Her husband was kneeling right beside them, watching everything with wide, shattered eyes. Jenna mouthed the words silently to him, her lips trembling:

I'm sorry…

Then she turned her head back to Jonas, her voice breaking with desperate need.

“Inside me…” she gasped. “Cum inside me.”

Jonas groaned deeply and slammed into her harder. Several thick, powerful spurts of his hot cum began erupting inside her womb. Jenna cried out sharply as she felt the first heavy jets flooding her — warm, forceful, and endless. Her pussy clenched violently around him as her own orgasm exploded through her body.

Her back arched hard off the chair. Her toes curled tightly. Her eyes rolled back as wave after devastating wave crashed over her. She came harder than she ever had in her life, her pussy milking Jonas’s cock greedily as he continued pumping load after thick load deep inside her.

Jonas kept thrusting through it, still not done, his heavy balls contracting as he emptied himself into her married pussy. More and more cum flooded her, filling her so full she could feel her belly slightly swell with every pulse.

Jenna shook and whimpered beneath him, completely overwhelmed, as Jonas continued to pump the rest of his massive load deep inside her.

Jonas gave one final, deep thrust before pulling out of her with a wet, obscene sound.

The moment he withdrew, a thick gush of his cum poured out of Jenna’s stretched, gaping pussy — a heavy, creamy flood that ran down between her ass cheeks and onto the lounge chair beneath her. She whimpered at the sudden emptiness, her hole twitching and slowly contracting.

But Jonas wasn’t finished.

His massive cock, still rock-hard and glistening with their combined juices, pulsed powerfully in his hand. Several thick, heavy ropes of hot cum erupted from the tip, splattering across Jenna’s belly and heaving tits. Rope after rope painted her sun-kissed skin — thick white streaks landing on her breasts, her stomach, even up to her collarbone.

Jenna’s eyes were glassy with lust. Without hesitation, she reached up, grabbed the base of his throbbing cock, and pulled it toward her mouth.

The last powerful spurt shot directly between her parted lips.

She moaned loudly around the head of his cock as the thick, warm cum flooded her tongue. Her eyes fluttered shut in pleasure as she sucked gently on the sensitive tip, savoring the rich, salty taste of him. Her cheeks hollowed as she nursed the last few pulses from his heavy balls, swallowing what she could while the rest dripped down her chin.

Even after he finished, she kept him in her mouth, gently sucking and licking him clean, her tongue swirling lazily around the head as if she couldn’t bear to let him go.

Jonas groaned deeply, stroking her hair as he looked down at her cum-covered body and cum-hungry mouth.

“Such a greedy little cumslut,” he murmured with satisfaction.

Jenna moaned softly around him in response, still gently sucking as the last drops leaked onto her tongue. Her body was trembling, covered in his seed, her pussy still slowly leaking what he had pumped deep inside her.

She had never felt more filthy.

More used.

More alive.

Aiden watched in a daze, as if the entire scene was happening in slow motion.

Jonas buried himself deep one final time and began to cum inside his wife.

Aiden could see it — the way Jonas’s heavy balls tightened, the way his thick cock pulsed visibly as he unloaded rope after thick rope directly into Jenna’s womb. He could see Jenna’s body reacting, her pussy clenching and fluttering around the invading cock as she came again, her back arching, toes curling, mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy.

He’s cumming inside her…

The thought hit him like a physical blow. Another man was filling his wife with his seed. Claiming her in the most primal way possible. And Jenna — his Jenna — was taking it all, her body greedily milking every drop.

Then Jonas pulled out.

A thick, obscene gush of cum poured from her stretched pussy, followed by several powerful spurts that landed across her belly, her heaving tits, and her neck. Jenna looked completely wrecked — naked, flushed, covered in another man’s cum, her pussy gaping and leaking.

And then she reached for Jonas’s cock.

Aiden’s stomach twisted as she pulled the still-pulsing head to her mouth and caught the final heavy spurt directly on her tongue. She moaned around him, eyes fluttering in pleasure as she swallowed the last of it, gently sucking and licking him clean.

It all felt completely surreal.

This can’t be real. This isn’t happening.

This was his wife. The woman who used to blush when he suggested doggy style. The woman who taught third graders how to read. The woman who had cried during their wedding vows because she was so happy.

And now she was lying there, legs still spread, covered in another man’s cum — both inside and outside — happily sucking the last drops from his cock like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Aiden felt dizzy.

The jealousy was sharp and vicious. The humiliation burned like acid in his veins. But beneath it all was an arousal so intense it made him feel almost sick. His own cock was painfully hard, leaking steadily as he watched his wife revel in being used and marked by their neighbor.

She looks so beautiful like this…

The thought made him feel guilty and perverted at the same time. He loved her more than anything. He hated seeing her like this. And yet he couldn’t look away. He didn’t *want* to look away.

This was the woman he married.

And she had just let another man cum deep inside her… and she had loved every second of it.

Aiden kneeled there, breathing shallowly, completely overwhelmed by the surreal, life-altering reality playing out in front of him.

His sweet, respectable wife had just been thoroughly bred and covered by their Black neighbor… and she was still gently sucking his cock like she didn’t want to let go.

Jonas looked straight at Aiden, a satisfied, dominant smirk on his face as he ran his thick fingers possessively through Jenna’s messy blonde hair. He gently but firmly guided her head further down his glistening cock, pushing more of his length into her mouth.

Jenna moaned around him, still on her knees, obediently taking him deeper as fresh cum and her own juices coated her lips and chin.

“So, Aiden,” Jonas said casually, still looking him in the eye while Jenna sucked him. “How does it feel? Officially being a cuckold now?”

The word hit Aiden like a punch to the gut.

Cuckold.

It sank in slowly, heavy and final. The label he had fantasized about in secret, whispered in the dark during their most depraved pillow talk… was now real. His wife was on her knees, freshly fucked and covered in another man’s cum, willingly sucking that same man’s cock right in front of him.

Aiden felt a storm of emotions crash through him all at once:

- Humiliation so intense it made his face burn.

- Jealousy that twisted like a knife in his chest.

- Shame for how painfully hard he still was.

- And a dark, overwhelming arousal that made his cock throb so hard it hurt.

He was a cuckold.

His wife had just been filled with another man’s cum. She had cum harder for Jonas than she ever had for him. And now she was lovingly cleaning that same cock with her mouth while wearing his wedding ring.

Jonas chuckled softly, clearly enjoying Aiden’s stunned silence.

He eventually pulled his cock from Jenna’s mouth with a wet pop and stood up.

“I need to rehydrate after that workout,” he said casually. “You two enjoy yourselves for a bit.”

He walked into the house, leaving them alone in the backyard.

The moment Jonas disappeared inside, Aiden couldn’t hold back any longer.

He yanked his shirt off and threw it on the grass, then shoved his shorts and underwear down in one frantic motion. His cock sprang free — hard, leaking, and aching.

Jenna was still on her back on the lounge chair, legs spread, her pussy visibly wrecked — red, swollen, and leaking thick streams of Jonas’s cum.

Aiden moved between her thighs and pushed inside her in one smooth thrust.

The feeling was completely different.

She was incredibly wet and loose from Jonas’s much thicker cock. Aiden groaned loudly as he sank into her soaked, cum-filled pussy with almost no resistance. The slick, warm heat combined with the obscene wetness of another man’s load made the sensation overwhelming.

“Fuck, Jen…” he gasped, burying himself to the hilt.

Jenna wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep, emotional kiss as her husband began fucking her — sliding easily through the mess Jonas had left inside her.

Jenna lay beneath Aiden, her body still trembling from everything that had just happened. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as she looked up at him, her voice cracking with emotion.

“I’m so sorry, Aiden…” she whispered, her words breaking. “I let him fuck me… I let him cum inside me.”

Aiden’s heart clenched at the sight of her tears. He leaned down and kissed her softly, tasting the salt on her lips.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he murmured against her mouth. “It’s okay. We both fantasized about this. I pushed you toward it. I wanted this too.”

Jenna shook her head slightly, fresh tears slipping down her temples as her legs stayed wrapped around his waist. Their bodies moved together slowly, slick with sweat and Jonas’s cum. The obscene wetness made every thrust smooth and slippery.

“But I liked it…” she confessed in a small, ashamed voice. “I liked it… a lot.”

She didn’t elaborate. She held back the full truth — how intense it felt, how full Jonas made her, how hard she had cum on his cock. She didn’t want to hurt Aiden more than she already had. The guilt was written all over her face even as her body continued to rock with his.

Aiden felt a complex storm raging inside him.

Hearing her admit that she liked it — that another man had given her pleasure she couldn’t hide — sent a sharp stab of jealousy through his chest. It hurt. Deeply. But at the same time, it ignited something primal and dark inside him. The thought that his wife had been thoroughly fucked and filled by Jonas, and that she had enjoyed it, made his cock throb even harder inside her cum-soaked pussy.

The physical sensation was overwhelming.

Every thrust made their bodies slide together through the warm, slick mess Jonas had left behind. Aiden could feel the thick cum still leaking out of her, coating his cock and balls with every movement. The filthy reality — sliding through another man’s load while fucking his own wife — was too much for him to handle.

“I’m sorry…” Jenna whispered again, tears still falling as she held him close.

Aiden buried his face in her neck, thrusting harder, faster, driven by love, jealousy, shame, and overwhelming arousal.

“It’s okay,” he gasped. “I love you… I love you so much.”

The combination of her confession, her tears, her warm body, and the obscene wetness of Jonas’s cum pushed him over the edge.

With a deep, broken groan, Aiden came hard inside her. His cock pulsed violently, adding his own load to the mess already deep in her pussy. He held her tightly as he emptied himself, trembling against her as wave after wave of intense, conflicted pleasure rolled through him.

They stayed locked together afterward, breathing hard, hearts pounding against each other.

Jenna stroked his hair gently, still crying softly.

Aiden kissed her tears away, his mind spinning with the surreal reality of what they had just done — and what it meant for them now.

---

Nothing would ever be the same again.

But in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms and covered in the evidence of her surrender, they had never felt closer.

This new guy in his mid thirties moved in to our place 4.5 months ago for about 6 months stay, so he’s leaving soon. He’s single and really a nice guy. Since we both work and this guy often works from home, so he’s always home when she gets back, and she’s usually back few minutes to an hour before me.

We have always had a bit of teasing kink. She likes a bit of public fun and has flashed her tits to few guys but never anyone we knew. She has double ds and they’re perfect, she’s 24 and fit. At home she’s often in her panties or tiny shorts with a light top on, or nothing but since this guy moved in, she’s been having to wear more.

First 2-3 months it was fine, but towards the 3rd month we started to hangout with him and gotten close to him in some ways. We hung out outside but came home together, and him and my gf had a good chemistry, but not overly.

One of the recent times we went out, she wore a really low cut dress and no bra, she looked hot. We had planned to just go for a good dinner and light drinks but we ended up drinking a lot more at a bar, then we ended up at a club.

Her boobs looked very nice and caught him staring at them and my gf not doing much to pull it up. At one point it was nearly out and I had to tell her and she just pulled it slightly, made not much difference.

We got home that night and in the cab we sat behind and she sat in the middle. We were cramped and she was sitting slightly ahead. Throughout the cab right, it’s just her big half out tits between his face and mine.

She was quite sleepy and leaned on me. I was a bit worried it’ll completely slip out over a hump then she fixed it. But it was hard to not look at her boobs.

She didn’t have a nipslip, or we believe that, but it was hot. Once we got home, he went to his room, didn’t completely shut the door yet, and she pulled her whole dress down, got down to her thongs, looked at me and slowly walked to our room, which is next to his.

I left her dress on the floor and went into our room. We got in the shower and had sex, and after the shower she was in the room in her towel.

We wanted to get water from the fridge and she was going in her towel. At that point we were not sure if he was in the living room or his room, but we didn’t care. She went out with her ass out and just had upper body covered. And she saw him on the way back from the fridge, sitting outside by the balcony, he saw her but they didn’t talk, he saw her walk back to the room with her whole ass out, she even bent over at the fridge which faces the balcony when getting it, she doesn’t remember much but said he’s probably seen everything there. Which was hot.

So that was the during the 3 month, throughout that month she was outside in her tiny shorts and crop tops, without bra sometimes. We were not sure if that made him uncomfortable but he was outside a lot more.

This month we went swimming together and she wore the skimpiest bikini she could find online. She was bare naked pretty much. Just her nipples and a bit were covered and a small clothe that cover her crouch. Her ass ate whatever string covered her.

Her bikini top slipped countless times, leaving him staring at her entire rack in the middle of the pool. After we came home, she walked around in that bikini which was very hot.

Let’s see what else happens and whether things escalate

So this is how I ended up confessing my kink to my wife, and how our weed dealer asserted himself as our bull, and increasingly taking control as he became her main sexual partner. To set things this was nearly 10 years ago. We were both 22, still newly married. We enjoyed smoking, and our dealer Jonah was one of those “hang out and smoke a while types”.

Increasingly I noticed him staring at my wife as we smoked, clearly enjoying himself and giving her some extra. I ignored it cause he gave us a good price, and secretly was into cuckolding. But then one day she goes to use his bathroom, and he just says he wants to breed that ass in relation to her. I ignored it in the moment but it lingered in my head. Eventually I confessed to my wife I knew I could not satisfy her and was into her fucking other men. She was open to it, but didn’t immediately jump into anything.

That all changed the next time we got weed. I sent her alone while I was out. When I got home, still gone. She got home hours later, a mess and horny as hell. We got to fucking with me raw since she is on the pill, and it’s completely different. The texture is gooey and slipper compared to normal. Her pussy is stuffed full of cum. I can’t help myself realizing, and blow my own load in all of thirty seconds.

Afterwards, she describes to me what happened. She got there and it was normal at first, but he got her way high and then just touched her nipples for a while until he had her begging to fuck. Her one rule she had said was condoms to be safe. And to be fair he used one. But after fucking her for over a half hour and making her cum over and over, he tells her there won’t be a round 2 unless it’s raw and she immediately folds. It’s even more intense and he makes her scream and cum multiple times before absolutely filling her with cum. Eventually he tells her to go home and fuck me while full of his cum.

A little while later I start getting messages from him, including pics and videos. It’s her getting fucked like an animal and going wild bouncing on his cock, begging for him to fill her up. And he describes exactly how he destroyed her and what they did.

This started a multi year relationship where quickly visits turned near daily, then to weekends and even weeks spent with him. My wife has become his trained sextoy, always ready to jump to what he wants.