Stories by Wayne C. Rogers
Cuckold Story: The Essence of Love
As Carolyn finished her bath and stepped out of the tub, I stood up and began to dry her off with a large soft towel. She looked into the mirror over the sink, staring at me as I ran the towel over her back and buttocks.
"I need to dry off my chest and stomach," she said.
I handed the towel to her and watched as she casually wiped the beads of moisture from the front of her lovely body. She gave me back the bath towel and instructed me to dry off her legs and feet. When that was finally done, Carolyn handed me a plastic bottle of body lotion. I squirted some of the creamy liquid on my right hand, put the bottle down on the top of the toilet, and rubbed both of my hands briskly together so that the lotion wouldn't be cold. I then began to apply it to my wife's body, doing her legs first and gradually working my way up. I gently massaged her muscles as I rubbed the lotion into her soft, bare skin, listening to the sounds of contentment that were coming from her mouth.
Carolyn enjoyed being pampered.
When we were finished, I followed my wife out of the bathroom and into the master bedroom.
This was her room.
I generally slept in one of the spare bedrooms down the short hallway and was never allowed in my wife's room without her explicit permission.
"What do you think I should wear tonight?" Carolyn asked as she stepped over to her large walk-in closet. She opened its two accordion doors and then stood there for a few moments, staring silently at the massive display of clothing. "Maybe I should go with black leather."
"You don't want to scare poor Jonathan away," I answered. "It might be better to go with your tight tan skirt and the dark brown, long sleeved silk blouse. I think that would be sexy. You could wear your brown leather jacket over it."
"Yes, I like that, Daniel. What about underneath the outfit?"
"Except for the nylons, I would keep everything the same color."
"Yes," I said.
"What kind of lingerie should I wear?"
"My suggestion is a lacey, push-up bra with matching garter belt and panties," I replied, knowing that her new lover would be turned on by it. "I also think a full-length slip with spaghetti straps and skin-tone nylons with seams up the back would be extra sexy. That'll have Jonathan forming at the mouth in no time at all."
"Seams are hard to keep straight," Carolyn said.
"Yes, they are," I agreed. "Still, seams on the back of stockings have an intense psychological affect on a man's psyche. When Jonathan sees them, the only thing that's going to be on his mind is the mysteriousness of what's underneath your skirt. That's the way it is with men."
"He already knows what's up there, darling."
"It doesn't matter," I stated. "It's all in the mind. Besides, tonight is a little different. You want him to be in a state of heat so that he'll be more willing to play your sexual games."
"Yes, I do."
"Then go with the seams."
This was going to be my wife's third get-together with Jonathan. They had met in the lounge at the Venetian Hotel the week before. My wife liked to occasionally scope out the lounges around Las Vegas in search of new and interesting lovers. She was the type of woman who needed a great deal of diversity in her life and a continuous flow of young, intelligent, and well-endowed men into her bed kept the fires burning brightly. It also kept the intensity of our own love life at a fever pitch and that was certainly fine with me.
The last two dates that Carolyn had with her new lover had ended up back at his apartment, but tonight she intended to bring him to our home to see just how far the envelope could be pushed at this early stage of the game. Though my wife thought there was the possibility of having a long-term relationship with Jonathan, she needed to make sure that he was suitable for what she had in mind. Carolyn also wanted to demonstrate her dominance over me in front of him so that he would feel more comfortable in having sex with her with me in the background. She'd already explained to him that our marriage was based on the belief of female domination and that I was treated as her personal slave. Still, she wanted him to experience our lifestyle on a first-hand basis so that he would understand that I had absolutely no say-so in her affairs and that he was free to come (no pun intended) over every night and make love to her, if that was what they both desired.
"Get everything ready for me while I put on my make-up," Carolyn said.
As she walked over to her vanity table and sat down in front of it, I went over to the stereo system in the far corner of the bedroom and put on a CD that was the soundtrack to the movie, Somewhere In Time. Carolyn and I loved the music to this particular movie for it seemed to express the strong emotions that we both felt for each other.
I listened to the soft music fill the bedroom as I entered the walk-in closet and picked out the tan skirt, the brown silk blouse, and a pair of dark brown shoes with four-inch heels on them. Carrying the clothes out of the closet and over to the king-size bed, I laid the skirt and blouse on top of the black comforter and set the shoes down on the floor. Then, moving over to the wardrobe chest that was located next to the dresser bureau, I opened its wooden doors.
The top drawer of the tall chest held my wife's panties, neatly folded and arranged by color, while the one just below it contained her brassieres, girdles, corsets, and garter belts. The third drawer was filled pantyhose, regular nylons, workout tights for the gym, and socks, and the fourth one held an array of different styles of slips. I gathered the articles of clothing I needed out of the drawers and took them over to the bed. Knowing that it would be awhile before Carolyn was finished putting on her make-up, I knelt down at the foot of the bed and assumed the position of a slave, placing my hands behind my back and my face to the floor.
Twenty minutes past by before my wife was ready to get dressed. She switched off the lights on her vanity table, stood up, and walked over to where I was kneeling.
"You look so natural in that position," she said.
I didn't say anything.
"Would you like to help me get dressed?"
"Yes, Mistress," I replied.
"Hand me the garter belt," Carolyn instructed.
Rising to my knees, I picked up the garter belt from off the bed and gave it to her. My wife smiled down at me as she wrapped the lacey piece of lingerie around her waist and then turned around so that I could fasten the back of it for her. After I connected the eyehooks on the back of the garter belt, she sat down on the edge of the bed and asked me to give her one of the nylons.
This was the best part of helping Carolyn to get dressed.
I loved to watch her as she put on a pair of stockings. I couldn't think of anything more sensual than when a woman performed this rather simple, but extremely intoxicating act. It was my one weakness, and Carolyn used it to her full advantage. She had long, beautiful legs (the kind of legs a model would kill for) that seemed to go on forever and seeing those legs incased in a pair of sheer nylons brought out the submissive side of my personality. I wanted to kneel before those legs…to kiss them…to run my hands up and down them, delighting in the sensation of nylon against flesh…to place my face between them so I could service my Mistress like a well-trained slave.
Grabbing one of the nylons from the bed, I positioned myself in front of Carolyn and then handed it to her. She quickly rolled the piece of hosiery up into a little ball and slipped it gingerly over the toes of her right foot. Then, stretching her leg out past my head, she slowly unrolled the nylon down her ankle, calf and thigh. It was a gorgeous sight to behold. I could fill a thickening in the front of my pants as a wave of sexual heat flooded through my body.
"Would you like to kiss my foot like a good slave?" she asked.
As Carolyn fastened the two garter tabs to the top of the stocking, I took her right foot in my hand like it was a priceless artifact and softly kissed it with outright love and adoration.
"I need the other nylon," she said.
I released her foot, grabbed the second nylon, and handed it to her. She then repeated the process with her left leg. After my wife fastened the garters on the left side of her body, I slipped the dark brown stiletto-heeled shoes onto her feet and she stood up, towering over me like a true Goddess.
"My panties, please."
I got her satin panties and then helped her to step into them. She pulled them teasingly up her legs and over the garter belt, putting on a sexy little show for me. Whenever Carolyn wore panties, she always made it a habit to wear them on the outside of the garter belt so that accessibility for sex would be easier. There'd been one night when she had met a man in a lounge, and they'd gone outside to the dark alleyway in the back and had sex. He had made her lean up against the wall of the lounge like cops do to suspects in the movies. The guy then pulled Carolyn's skirt up to her waist, ripped off her panties, and fucked her from behind as cars drove by only a short distance away.
That was my wife's motto.
I watched as Carolyn put on the bra and slip, then her blouse and skirt. She not only looked beautiful and sexy, but classy as well. Walking over to the dresser bureau, she picked up a brush and began to comb her long brown hair. I could literally feel my heart expanding with such unbelievable joy for this woman who made my life so complete in every way imaginable.
Is it possible for a person to express the deep-rooted love that exists between a dominant female and her submissive husband? Perhaps there are no words to adequately describe the coming together of these two unique individuals. I do know that when a man kneels before his wife and offers his mind, body and soul to her in servitude, desiring only to please her in whatever way she chooses, it is only then that he truly understands his one purpose in life…his sole reason for existing. I couldn't help but wonder how many people would be able to grasp the concept that when a dominant female instructs her husband in the art of obedience by whipping him, she's expressing her own pure love for his essence and well being?
Even less would be able to understand a submissive husband's expression of love through the act of bathing and then dressing his wife in preparation for her date with another man. It made me realize that each couple must find what works best for them, ignoring the norms of society, trusting their own desires, wanting only to please each other. A philosopher once said that to understand the true nature of love is to be enlightened.
I couldn't agree more.
"I love you," I said to my wife.
She looked at my reflection in the mirror and smiled.
That I worshipped this woman more than life itself was no secret to those who knew us. My feelings for her were blatantly obvious. It could be no other way with this remarkable and breathtaking individual. In many ways she was the personification of the Earth Goddess and therefore the creator and protector of all; yet, there was also the dark side that reminded me of the Hindu Goddess Kali. My wife could have a man quivering in his shoes with just a look of her dark eyes. In a sense, she was the epitome of every submissive male's fantasy: beautiful, sexy, intelligent, creative, extremely aggressive in the work place, firm in her beliefs on how a man should treat her, and utterly ruthless in the infliction of punishment when displeased with the behavior of a male.
When Carolyn had agreed to marry me, she did so with a number of stipulations that were non-negotiable.
The first was that I sign a contract stating that I willingly gave up all of my rights as a husband and agreed to serve her as a personal slave. The document further stated that she'd have complete freedom to take other lovers during the course of our marriage with my full knowledge and approval. I, on the other hand, would be required to be not only faithful, but celibate as well. My sexual outlet would be strictly monitored and controlled by Carolyn at all times. I would be permitted no orgasm without her explicit permission. The document was to be signed by both of us, witnessed by her lawyer, and notarized.
The second rule was that all my paychecks from work would be immediately turned over to her. She'd control the finances of our marriage. This would ensure my dependence on her and make me more complacent to her wishes.
The third stipulation had to do with the household chores. It would be my responsibility to keep our home cleaned to her specifications, to do the laundry on a weekly basis, to keep up the lawn, to wash and wax the cars, do the grocery shopping, run any errands, make up the beds each and every morning, etc., etc. My wife would have her own bedroom, while I would sleep in another.
The next rule was that she be pampered on a daily basis with foot and body massages. At times it would be my job to bathe Carolyn and help prepare her for dates with other men. I would also be sexually submissive to her. I was to be available at all times to sexually please her in whatever way she demanded.
Another stipulation was that I lose a certain amount of weight and then maintain myself at that weight through daily exercise and healthy eating. She didn't want me dying at an early age.
The final rule was absolute obedience to her every command. Disobedience, sarcasm, anger, or the silent treatment on my part would result in swift punishment. Carolyn had a number of expensive riding crops that were capable of causing severe pain, not to mention a thick wooden paddle that could quickly change a man's attitude with just a minute or two of forceful use. My wife had no hesitation in administering a hard whipping in order to correct non-desirable behavior. Sometimes, however, the look on her face would be enough to do the trick.
"What time is it?" Carolyn asked.
"Seven-fifteen," I said.
"Jonathan will be here in a few minutes. While we're gone, I want you to do the laundry and give the house a general cleaning. That should keep you occupied until we get back."
"Remember to wash my lingerie in Woolite."
"How do I look?" she asked, turning around and modeling for me.
"Like a Goddess," I said, rising to my feet.
Carolyn came over and kissed me gently on the lips. "I don't know if Jonathan will be spending the night or not. If he doesn't, you may come to my room after he leaves."
"I'll like that very much."
My wife bent over, lifted the hem of her skirt, and readjusted the garter tabs on each stocking. I found myself becoming aroused again by her actions. Of course, I was always turned on whenever Carolyn was around. I think a lot of men felt the same way about her. Smoothing down her skirt, my wife gave me another kiss and then went downstairs to wait for Jonathan.
I started collecting the dirty clothes, sheets, and towels from both of our rooms and was in the process of carrying them downstairs when the front doorbell rang. I heard Carolyn answer the door as I came down the steps. Rounding the corner of the stairway, I saw her and Jonathan kissing in the foyer.
I suddenly felt like a voyeur.
When they finished the kiss, Jonathan looked up in my direction and nodded his head in acknowledgement. Carolyn turned around, stared up at me, and offered me one of her tantalizing smiles.
"We'll be back around eleven," she stated.
"Have a good time," I said.
Jonathan waved nonchalantly as they walked out the front door. He seemed like a pleasant fellow. I knew my wife was very pleased with how the relationship was developing.
Walking across the foyer, I closed the door behind them and then carried the basket of dirty clothes out to the washroom.
I had the house cleaned and the laundry washed by ten o'clock. My wife would now be able to make love to Jonathan on clean sheets when they returned later in the evening. Since I more or less had the rest of the night to myself, I decided to do some writing on my computer. I went to my bedroom, sat down at the small desk in the corner, and turned on the computer. I'd been working on a short story for the last week about a hitchhiker trying to catch a ride on a deserted piece of beach highway…a highway that was supposedly haunted by the ghost of a woman who had died in a car crash years before. I had a couple of pages left to write and had figured out an ending that would surprise the reader.
By the time my wife and her lover got home, I had the first draft of the story completed. I heard the front door open and the sound of voices downstairs. I could hear Carolyn laughing happily at something Jonathan must have said. A few minutes passed before they started up the staircase.
"My bedroom is down there," Carolyn said to him as they entered the upstairs hallway. "I need to see how Daniel is doing."
"Don't be long," her lover said.
I turned around in the chair as Carolyn walked into my bedroom. "How did the evening go?" I asked.
She came over and stood beside me at the desk. "We had dinner at Sergio's," she said, "and then we went dancing at C2K."
"Sounds like you had a good time."
"It was wonderful," Carolyn stated as she bent over and kissed me on the cheek. "Did you get all of the cleaning done?"
"Yes," I answered. "The laundry's done and the house is clean for another week."
"You're such a good slave."
"I finished the first draft of "No Hitchhiking."
"Can I read it?"
"I need to do a quick rewrite to polish it up and correct any mistakes," I said. "It should be ready to read by tomorrow night."
"I can't wait. Listen, I want you to go downstairs to the kitchen and get the bottle of Asti out of the refrigerator. Open it, then put the bottle in a bucket of ice and bring it up to the bedroom with two glasses."
Carolyn took my right hand and placed it on her leg as she kissed me again. I felt the impression of garter tabs beneath the skirt. I found myself becoming aroused as her lips moved to my mouth. I could feel the tip of her tongue pressing forward, pushing its way between my lips. My hand gradually worked its way under her skirt, sliding up the sheer nylon to the warm flesh of her thigh. I suddenly felt Carolyn's hand on the crotch of my jeans, rubbing my erection, teasing me with the expectation of things to come.
Pulling her lips away from mine, but keeping her hand pressed firmly to the hard mound of flesh in the front of my jeans, she stared into my eyes with an intensity that startled me.
"You know that I love you," she whispered.
"Yes," I said.
"When you hear the sounds of Jonathan making love to me tonight, I want you to picture him in your mind, buried deeply within my body, bringing me pleasure, satisfying me in ways few other men have been able to do."
Carolyn released her hold on me and straightened back up. I watched as she turned around and walked out of my room, her hips swishing seductively. Taking a deep breath, I rose to my feet and went downstairs to get the bottle of white wine for my wife and her new lover.
Entering the kitchen, I immediately went to the refrigerator and took out the cold bottle of wine. I removed the tin foil from the top of the bottle and then unwound the wire netting from around the cork. Carefully popping the cork so that none of wine ran out, I set the bottle down on the counter and reached up to one of the top cabinets. I pulled out a metal tray and ice bucket. I put the bottle into the bucket, then took out four trays of ice cubes from the freezer and emptied them one by one into the metal bucket. That would keep the wine fairly cold for at least an hour or longer. I took two wine glasses from the cabinet and then carried everything upstairs to my wife's bedroom.
Cuckold Story, part 2