I was given permission to tell this story from a long time cuckold. For this story we will call him Brian.
“I don’t even know how this all began. One day I was living the perfect marriage, or so I thought, and the next, I stood in the middle of my bedroom while my wife cheated on me. Well, looking back at it now, I guess it wasn’t cheating. She was feeding her soul what it had lacked for so long. A real man. I’m a big guy, but lacking in one thing. Cock size. About 4 inches, I’ve had girlfriends in the past complain, but I leaned how to become orally gifted. Sex was quick, but I could always get them off with my tongue or toys. It was that way with my wife too, well, until it wasn’t. And so it began.
I never thought I would be here, confessing this part of myself. It started as a whisper in the back of my mind, a fleeting thought I quickly brushed aside. But over time, the thought grew, and soon, I couldn’t ignore it.
My wife, Emily, is breathtaking—smart, confident, and effortlessly beautiful. From the moment we met, I knew I was lucky. But deep down, I carried a secret, a craving I didn’t understand at first. It wasn’t until I stumbled upon a forum discussing the cuckold lifestyle that I realized there was a name for my fantasy.
At first, I was ashamed. What kind of man wanted to see his wife with another? The idea should have filled me with jealousy, but instead, it thrilled me in ways I couldn’t explain. I kept it buried, afraid of what Emily might think. But secrets have a way of eating at you, and one night, after a few glasses of wine, I confessed.
She stared at me, silent. My heart pounded. Had I ruined everything? Then, a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips.
“So, you want to watch me with someone else?” she asked.
I nodded, barely breathing.
“I’ll think about it,” she said.
Days turned into weeks, and I convinced myself she had dismissed the idea. Then, one evening, she dropped a bombshell.
“There’s someone I’ve been talking to,” she said. “If we’re really doing this, I want to do it right.”
The moment was surreal. I expected jealousy, but instead, I felt something else—excitement, arousal, anticipation. The night arrived faster than I imagined. Watching Emily with another man was both torment and pleasure in its purest form. I had never seen her like that before—uninhibited, free, lost in pleasure. And though I was an observer, I had never felt closer to her. He was 3 times my size and though I should have be intimidated, I’m on the edge of excitement.
The way he touched my wife made me feel a pang of guilt. Never once had she used that language in the bedroom with me. All I could think was “Had I ever satisfied her?”
Afterward, she curled up beside me, tracing her fingers over my skin. “Are you okay?” she whispered.
I smiled, kissed her forehead, and nodded. “More than okay.”
Some might not understand, but for us, it brought a new level of intimacy, trust, and passion. And in the end, that’s all that matters.
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