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A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 10





Sally and Ted have met once a month since then, and the experiences have been wonderful for them and powerful for me. But nothing really new happened, so I did not feel the need to write another chapter. Until now.


At the end of the year, Sally and I realized that our agreement that we would have sex whenever SHE wanted to had resulted in our having sex exactly three times from August to November. One can debate whether they were "mercy fucks" or merely Sally's feeling that a husband and wife are supposed to have sex, but in either case they felt very good to me but left Sally wishing Ted was around. So after their November date (November 20th, to be exact) Sally and I agreed that we would try a period with no sex at all between us, other than me helping her to cum with her vibrator when she was in the mood. We picked six months as a checkpoint: at that time we said we would discuss how it felt to both of us, and either stop or continue.


Even though we had rarely had sex before that fateful day, something changed with our decision. The obvious change was that my only sex partner was my hand, and that Sally would just smile when I said I was "going downstairs for a while." But something changed between us, as well. Surprisingly, the change was not alienation or a growing apart; in fact, we found we felt closer to each other than we had in a long time. It was difficult to articulate the reasons why – that would not happen until September – but we both felt that the change was good. Strange, but good. One of the reasons I did not write another chapter of this Diary was that while I knew things were different, I could not explain what made them different. But we both knew they were.


Move ahead to September – exactly one month ago today. With changes in everyone's schedules, we did this date differently. Rather than driving 90 minutes in the morning, seeing Ted and driving home, Sally and I chose to set out the evening before their date and actually SLEEP in the hotel (who knew you were allowed to do that?). Since Ted would be coming over around 11 a.m., we also decided that I would go out and pick up lunch for all of us to eat in the suite, rather than heading out to a restaurant. So first thing in the morning, while Sally showered and prepared for her lover, I ran over to Wegman's and picked up some of their healthy, ready-to-eat salads. The unexpected result being that now I can't walk through the supermarket without getting a hard-on.


Ted got stuck in traffic and arrived late, so he and Sally skipped their customary courtesy of sitting and chatting with me in the suite's living room, and instead went straight to bed. They closed and locked the door behind them, I dutifully took my place on a chair right outside the door, and they had sex while my hand and I listened.


I said there is not a lot of sex in this story, because all I know of their lovemaking is the moaning and groaning I heard through the door – hardly enough to create an exciting description here. But one thing did stand out: in the middle of all the moaning and groaning I heard Ted cry out, "OH.... MY.... GOD!!", followed by the bouncing-on-the-bed sounds which Sally's body makes when she cums. I knew Ted always gets excited when he feels her cum in his arms, but somehow this was different. I filed away the question in my mind, and continued to jerk off as the bedroom grew silent.


A while later, Sally and Ted emerged for lunch. Ted had thrown on his shirt, buttoning a couple of buttons, and as he walked his soft cock peeked out from underneath his shirttails. Sally had grabbed a fleece jacket and zipped it only halfway, her breathtaking décolletage emphasizing the fact that she was not wearing a bra underneath – or anything underneath that. They sat down at the table and I served lunch, sitting with them and trying to eat as if I were not in the presence of my half-naked wife and her half-naked lover.


As we ate, a curious thought crossed my mind: MY WIFE had put on clothing because I was going to see her! She did not have a second thought about being naked with THAT MAN, but her sense of propriety demanded that she cover up before having lunch with ME.


I was only partly done digesting that thought when Ted gave me something even more intense to chew on. He said that when they were fucking (he said that so casually – did he not know he was telling me about his fucking my wife???), Sally reached over and grabbed her vibrator, put it on her clit, and in less than two minutes was cumming on his cock.


I was in the middle of chewing, and suddenly the salad felt like sand in my mouth. Sally NEVER cums from fucking, or while fucking; I think it happened two or three times in her entire life. She loves to be fucked, but her orgasms require the proverbial "direct clitoral stimulation," usually for a good 10 to 15 minutes, so whoever is making love to her usually helps her along with kissing, sucking, etc. I've tried for years, and her two serious lovers have, too, but they hardly ever succeeded, and I never did. Yet here was Ted, sitting half-dressed with my half-dressed wife, telling me she came quickly and with him inside her.


"It was the most amazing thing," he continued. "Right before she came, all the muscles in her pussy contracted on me. Then she let go and had a HUGE orgasm. I tried to hold back, but once she started to cum I couldn't last any longer and I came in her."


I knew about that "amazing thing." I have felt it when I fingered Sally until she came. I know how she tightens up – so much that she squeezes the blood out of my finger. But this man sitting contentedly by her side had just felt it with his penis. And now I understood what had happened when "OH.... MY.... GOD!!" echoed through their bedroom. I felt a little sick, and very excited. Not that I had any doubt what had gone on behind the closed door, but here was my wife's lover describing the most intimate, INTERNAL functioning of her body. Her pussy. Which she gave to him. And not to me.


When lunch was over, Ted took Sally's hand and led her back to "their" bedroom. As soon as she entered the room – even before he could reach around to close the door – she slid her jacket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I got a momentary glimpse of her naked back and ass before the door clicked shut, but that image burned into my mind: the jacket really WAS for me; as soon as she was alone with her lover she wanted to be naked again.


Once again I listened as they fucked, and this time they took turns cumming. Somehow, that was less difficult to handle than their simultaneous, ground-breaking (and –shaking) orgasms. When they were finished and had talked, cuddled and scheduled their next date, they got dressed and came out to the living room. Time was short, so I quickly pulled on my own clothing and we left together, without much time for post-coital conversation. Sally was quiet on the drive home, and had to go to work after that, so it was late evening before we were home together and able to talk.




She poured each of us a big drink and we got comfortable on the couch. She looked at me with an intensely serious look and said, "Do you REALLY want to know why I am okay with having sex with Ted and not with you?"


My heart jumped into my throat, and I weakly said, "Yes."


"Are you SURE? I'm not joking, and if you want the truth I am ready to tell you, but it is going to hurt."


Now, Sally is not big on hurting me. Yes, she has a lover, and yes, she's happy to lock me out of the bedroom when they are together, but overtly hurting me is not something my Good Girl is comfortable doing. So whatever she was about to say, I knew it would be pretty mild.


I knew wrong.


My wife of 24 years, mother of our children, my life partner, took a big swig of her drink, paused for a thoughtful sigh, and said, "You have been a tremendous disappointment to me sexually ever since we met. I love you, but sex with you is uninspired, unexciting, predictable and boring. I knew it from the beginning, but once I met Ted, and then Ty, I found out what I was missing. You don't TRY, Paul; you do the same damn thing every time, and leave it to me to get off on it. Ted is always trying something new, always in a new position, always experimenting. And I love him experimenting on me. He EXCITES me, Paul. And you don't. You never did. So I'm really okay with waiting for my dates with Ted to have sex. And I'm really okay with not having sex with you. I can't say it will be forever, but it is for now."


I couldn't breathe. I never, ever expected to hear such painful words from my wife, and I never, ever suspected that what she said had been true since we met. I knew I wasn't a stud, but "a tremendous disappointment"? I studied her face for signs of discomfort with what she had just said, but there were none. We sat together for what seemed like hours, then I asked her if she still loved me.


"Absolutely. You are my partner in life, and we're in this together. You're just not going to be in ME when we're together."


"May I kiss you?" I asked with genuine concern.


"Always. I love kissing you," she answered with the same absolute honesty that had just brought my self-esteem crashing down around me.


We kissed and cuddled there on the couch for nearly an hour. Then I said, "I'm going downstairs for a while," not certain if the day's revelation and the evening's closeness would bring a change in her response.


"Have a good time. Think about me," she answered. Just as she had done for the past 10 months.


I went downstairs and looked through old pictures of Ted and Sally fucking. I found one where I could clearly see his penis inside her body, and thought about how it felt to both of them when they came together in that position. Then Sally's words, "You have been a tremendous disappointment to me sexually ever since we met," echoed through my brain, and I came so hard I nearly passed out. When I entered our bedroom I found my wife sleeping soundly, a contented smile on her face. And I wondered: was the smile for the great day of sex, or relief that she had finally told me the truth?


The next month passed uneventfully – literally. A few times a week Sally would ask me to help her cum with her vibrator, and I would think about Ted seeing everything I was seeing while I played with her. Surprisingly, a few times she told me to leave the bedroom so she could masturbate alone; I know she does that on her own, but she had never before refused my help when I was around. I asked her why, and she said, "Sometimes you just get in the way." I thought she was just joking, so I tried to blow it off, but she got serious and said, "I mean it. You're clumsy, and sometimes I just want to think about Ted and not be distracted by you. So go away; I'll call you when I'm done." As I sulked toward the door, she reached out her arm to me. I took her hand, and she drew me toward her. She kissed me deeply, held me close to her and said, "I love you very, very much. You're not good at sex, but you are my partner in everything else. Now go have a good time while I make myself cum without you."


With those few, loving words, I went downstairs and jerked off. I was a very happy cuckold.




Yesterday was the day we would drive to the hotel to prepare for today's date. Sally left home earlier than usual; when I got up I called her, and she said she decided to get her nails done – fingers and toes – for Ted. I was amazed at how strong a reaction that created in me, and I was hard in an instant. (The fact that I hadn't cum in two days helped, too; I always keep from cumming for three days before they meet, as the horniness helps me deal with the most difficult parts of being a cuckold.) I am still taken aback when my wife does things on her own to prepare for another man; I keep thinking my Good Girl doesn't act that way, and actually, I am right. But Ted's Bad Girl certainly does!


We – Sally, her new nail polish and I – left home around 9:30 that night. We drove for 90 minutes, talking about normal things. It had been a long day, and we needed time to unwind. We checked into the hotel, went for a drink at the bar and relaxed together. Just like any other couple getting away for an overnight together, waiting for the wife's lover to arrive the next morning.


Ted arrived at 10 am, right on time. This time there was no hurry, so we did get to sit and talk together. He and Sally sat on the couch, and he put his arm around her the moment they sat down. I was in the chair facing them – my "normal" place. They talked about work, politics and the weather in their own, comfortable way: no pressure, no falseness, no straining to find what to say. After a few minutes Sally began to trace her fingers along Ted's leg, finally finding her way to his crotch. I watched their faces as they continued to chat and Sally's fingers worked their magic on him.


After 9 ½ years of being cuckolded, I still cannot find the right words to describe what it feels like to be in the room when Sally and Ted meet each time. Their conversation in the living room is so damn ordinary – exactly what friends would talk about when they hadn't seen each other in a month – that I want to scream, "Am I the only one who realizes that you two are about to FUCK?" Of course, I don't say that. And of course, they DO realize it. They just are not in a hurry and besides, they are not alone; they save their passion for the bedroom.


I look at Sally's fingers tracing lines along Ted's leg and across his cock. My eyes are drawn to the new nail polish, as I remember that she had her nails done for him. I remember that her toenails are done, too, and that he will see them very soon. And I remember that any minute now they will get up and go to bed, leaving me with nothing to look at but the closed bedroom door, so I try to memorize everything: their bodies close together, the look in their eyes, the position of arms and legs and breasts and cock. I will need those memories soon enough.


Once Sally reached his penis, I knew their time in the living room was short. Ted actually managed to keep up the conversation as she stroked him, until finally she said, "I think we've been polite long enough. I want to be alone with you now."


He did not argue. They stood together, and I saw his cock tenting his pants. I think I gasped out loud as I looked at the erection which was about to be inside my wife, but they did not stay around long enough to notice or to comment. Ted wrapped his arm around my wife's waist, away they went, and I heard the bedroom door click shut.


For the next two hours Sally and Ted made love, talked, rested and made love again. I heard it all as I sat on my chair outside their bedroom door: clothing coming off, bed moving under them, moans and groans and sighs and gasps as they shared the intimacy which my wife saves for him. As I have said before, the feeling of sitting alone on a chair and jerking off while listening to Ted cum – loudly – in my wife is something which only a cuckold can understand and which no one can describe. I am ashamed at what I look like, even though no one is looking. And I am even more ashamed that I am excited by my shame. The result is a vortex which comes over me like a tornado as I hear my loving wife draw his orgasm out of him, and it is all I can do to keep from cumming and ruining the moment for all of us. Instead, I bite my lip and masturbate furiously until he is finished cumming, and then I start all over again as I hear Sally's vibrator begin to buzz.


Is it more difficult – or more exciting, I don't know which question to ask – to hear Ted cum in Sally, or to hear Sally cum with Ted? I have been wondering about this since they began, and my only answer is that I am such a drooling idiot of horniness and humiliation while this is going on that it would be impossible to tell. I do know that as this year of denial has progressed, the thought that my wife is sharing herself with him in ways she does not want to share with me has brought a level of embarrassment which I never imagined. If she did not want sex, I could sit back and bemoan my fate as the husband of a frigid woman. But her cries of pleasure make it excruciatingly clear that, as she told me, she LOVES sex. She just does not love sex with me.


It's true.


I know it.


She knows it.


Ted knows it.


And, unbeknown to me as I sat outside their door today, that is what they talked about between the times they made love.


A little while after they finished making love the second time, the bedroom door opened and Sally emerged, wearing my pajama top. She looked at my hard cock as I jerked off on the chair by their door, smiled and said, "I haven't seen that in a while. Why don't you stop and get lunch ready for us?", and made her way to the bathroom.


I cleaned myself up and got up, wearing just my polo shirt. I took the salads and drinks from the refrigerator and laid everything out on the small table in the dining area. Ted came out wearing his shirt, with his very-satisfied penis once again showing from time to time as he walked. Since none of us was wearing anything but a shirt, I put towels on each chair and we sat down to have lunch.


Once again, the conversation was remarkable only for its unremarkableness; just what you would hear any time three friends got together for a meal. The memory of the sounds they made and the frustration at not having seen any of it made it hard for me to eat, but I kept up a good façade, hoping the talk would turn to something – anything – sexual. But it never did.


When lunch was over Ted excused himself to go to the bathroom, and Sally prepared to go back to bed. I stopped her and asked if I could see something – something sexual. She asked what I had in mind, and I said I would really like to see him touching her and her touching him, even if only for a minute. She said that would be fine.


When Ted came out of the bathroom and headed across the hall, Sally motioned for me to follow them. As they neared the bed, she slipped my (!) pajama top off and unbuttoned his shirt. "Paul wants to watch us for just a minute," she explained. Ted didn't hesitate: he put his face between my wife's breasts and began sucking on her nipples. She reached down and stroked his cock, and my mind reeled with the stark reality of what I saw. A million thoughts raced past each other: "my wife is naked; he sees my wife's body; her breasts are in his hands; her nipples are in his mouth; she is stroking that man's penis; he wants her; she wants him..." and when she dismissed me with a wave of her hand, telling me to get out of their bedroom, I added one more thought: "and she doesn't want me."


The lovers spent another hour together talking and cuddling, then Ted came out, dressed. While he washed his face I diplomatically retreated to the living room chair. For a moment I thought about putting my pants on, or at least pausing my masturbation, but that quickly passed; trying to maintain my dignity at this point was a lost cause. I thought Ted would say goodbye and head for the door, but he made himself comfortable on the couch opposite me.






"We had a WONDERFUL time," Ted began. "Sally is so passionate, so giving. At least, she is to me. We each came twice." He looked toward the ceiling, obviously remembering the details. "She was so wet and so excited. We were fucking the first time and she grabbed her vibe, and she got VERY close again and again, but fucking was breaking her concentration, so I pulled out and laid down beside her."


I had been stroking myself as he spoke, but when she said "pulled out" I nearly lost it. He pulled out of MY WIFE... he pulled his penis out of her pussy, so he could lie beside her and help her cum! I jerked off like a madman, using all my willpower to keep from cumming as he told me about fucking my wife.


"She came very quickly after that. The first time was much quicker than the second. But right after she came I got back on top of her and came in her."


"Are you talking about the first time she came, or the second?" I gasped.


"Both, actually," he answered with a smile.


"You were on top each time you came?"


He thought for a minute, replaying the sex in his mind. "Yes, I was. That position works best for us. The second time she got on top of me for a little while, but I rolled her over and put her legs up on my shoulders. That's the way I get deepest inside her, and I came like that."


I was overwhelmed. "Us"?? He talks about my wife and him as "us"?? He's sitting there, as polite as ever but more smug than I remember, talking about what "works best for us"? Telling me how he maneuvers my wife's body so he can get his cock deepest inside her? Yes, he has talked about these things before, but something was different now, and I was about to find out what.


"So, it's been 11 months since you had sex. Sally and I were talking about that. I think our once-a-month schedule is perfect, because it keeps it from getting too familiar. Every time is special for us. But I was wondering if it was enough for her, so I asked her if she was denying herself pleasure. She said she'd like more sex, but she can get herself off whenever she wants. And she said she's not missing anything by not having sex with you."


He let that sink in, and it really did take a minute. Now I understood what was different: Sally had, for the first time, told him that she didn't want sex with me. Yes, he knew that we had gone nearly a year without it, but apparently he had thought she was just playing along with the cuckolding game. Now he knew that she was not playing a game at all. Whatever words she used this time, he left their bedroom knowing that my wife really didn't want sex with me. Only with him. And he was enjoying that knowledge tremendously.


"I was thinking that I know what Sally looks like as well as you do," he continued, "and I know what she feels like better than you do. You haven't been inside her in almost a year – I bet you've forgotten what she feels like in there, haven't you?"


I looked at him sitting there, dressed and satisfied and, for the first time, gloating over his relationship with my wife. I saw myself, too – hunched over in a chair, naked and masturbating and shaking while my wife's lover flaunted his intimacy with my wife. My humiliation was excruciating and I could barely speak, but at the same time I remembered that, on an earlier date, Ted had stopped talking with me and had left because, as he put it, "you were just a grunting, incoherent mess." And I knew, as surely as I knew anything, that I wanted this painful scene to continue. So I concentrated on the words and answered his question.


"You're right, I have forgotten what she feels like. It's been so long – so very, very long – that I don't even know. All I know is how you sound when you cum, and it sounds SO good."


"Oh my, it really is. It is so wonderful to be inside her, to cum in her. I'm sorry you miss out on it, but I guess the reward is mine."


Trying to keep the conversation going, I said, "It was really exciting seeing the two of you touching each other. I had forgotten what that looked like, too."


I thought this was a good opening for him to tell me about how much he loves my wife's tits, or how good it feels when she strokes his cock. Instead, what he said landed on me like a ton of bricks.


"I wanted to talk to you about that. I was very surprised that you asked to see us together. I thought you were past that."


"What do you mean, past that?" I asked in complete surprise.


"Watching is about a threesome: Sally and me and you. I thought you understood that we are not a threesome anymore. We are a couple: Sally and me. I was surprised that you asked to be included, because I thought you understood that you're not included anymore."


I looked at him, searching for a hint of a smile. There was none. Nor was there the smallest sign of discomfort at what he said. What I saw was concern... or, more accurately, pity. My wife's lover wanted to help me understand that I had disappointed him by thinking that I was entitled to see sex. Not to HAVE sex; that had been taken away nearly a year ago. But to SEE it: to share in one, small way in sex between a woman and a man – between my wife and her lover. I saw him searching for the right words to help me know my place; to know that when my wife is having sex, my place is outside the bedroom door, with the door securely closed between us.


At that moment, the realization came over me. Sitting naked in front of Ted, masturbating and harder than I ever was in my life, listening to his description of making love with my wife and his gentle lecture on how I had crossed a boundary which I was not entitled to cross, I suddenly knew that I had found what I was born to be. I was a cuckold. In every sense of the word, in the cold, harsh reality of the sunlight streaming through a hotel window and illuminating the scene of a lover lecturing a cuckold about proper behavior, I was where I was supposed to be. At the same time that I wanted to melt into the upholstery in shame over what he was saying and how I was responding, I also knew that there was only one thing to say.


"You're right, Ted. I'm sorry. I really wanted to see sex, and it was very exciting to see you two touching each other, but it isn't my place. I know I'll want to see it again, but I promise I'll do my best to keep quiet and to stay out of your private time."


Ted smiled a genuine smile. "Thank you," he said. "I'm very glad to hear that, and I appreciate it. It will make it better for all of us next time." With that he got up and headed toward the door. At the door he turned to me and added, "Sally and I made a date for November 20th. It works perfectly for us to celebrate your one-year anniversary."


I shuddered intensely. "I'm really glad. I hope it is a great day for both of you. And thank you for taking such good care of my wife," I called after him.


He turned toward me, smiled again and said, "It was my pleasure. She deserves everything I share with her." And he left.


Sally slept for another half hour, then I kissed her awake. She got out of bed, and I saw her naked as she reached for her clothes. She looked absolutely beautiful, and I wanted to reach for her, to touch her, to have sex with her right there and then. But she was quietly dressing, still reveling in the memories of her lover's touch. She was there, but not THERE. More accurately, she was there – but not there for me.


When she was dressed we hugged tightly and said we loved each other. In the car on the way home, she asked me if I had had a good time.


"I'm a cuckold," I said, trying not to drop my entire revelation on her all at once.


"I know," she answered with a smile.


"No, I mean I really AM a cuckold. I was meant to be one. I don't belong in your bed when you are making love; I belong outside the door." I looked toward her, hoping I had not upset her.


"I know," she answered. "I like that. And I can't wait for November 20th."






A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 11







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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


The one that makes her smile.


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


There was just one more question which I had to ask, and I waited until she was done with her story before bringing it up.

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


So after she finished telling me all about her date with her lover, I took Sally's hand, held it gently, and asked, "What do you want to do next week?"


"About what?" she asked, clearly not getting my subtle reference.


"About our anniversary, and sex."


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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


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