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.

The post My Secret Desire: A Cuckold Confession appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

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The post Protected: Blasphemy – A Story Of Demon Lust appeared first on Seductive Gypsy.

Do not read if you have an aversion to blasphemous situations.

My goal for the day wasn’t to ensure a one-way ticket into hell, but I am driving the crazy train into the heat by the end of the day. Today was my first time back to the church in years. I will admit that God and I don’t see eye to eye on many things, but I thought it was time to make up. Forgive those who trespass or something like that. Well, that’s what I saw on a billboard while driving down the freeway. Maybe it wasn’t even the saying, but the Priest was hot in that picture. Perhaps that was put there to bring in the sinners and save their souls from everlasting hell. Either way, he was attractive, and here I am stepping back into the place I swore I would never enter into again.

Dressed in a crimson red dress, stockings, and a pair of six-inch stiletto’s, I stood out like a whore in church. Well, that’s how I felt by all the eyes drinking me at the moment I walked through the door. If I could read minds, I am sure every woman hated me, and every man wanted to fuck me on a bibles stack. That was a lovely thought. Perhaps I stopped going to church because of these sinful thoughts the minute I went through the door.

The front row seat now empty. I knew that would be the perfect place for me to sit. The Priest was not the one in the picture, but he was the older version. He resembled a fortyish George Clooney, and I knew the moment I sat, he was intrigued. Of course, I couldn’t see his blasphemous erection in his pants. That damn robe blocked my view completely. Pity, I think his cock would take me to heaven before dropping me down in hell’s pits.

“Please be seated. I see we have some new people here today,” he said.

How come I knew the moment he said that he meant me? Did he want to know me better? Give me a new bible, or shove his cock so deep in my cunt that I felt God entering my body? I had to hold back a giggle just thinking about that. Can you imagine being called to the church’s front, bent over the pulpit and his cock fucking into my tiny pussy while he rests the bible on my back as he delivers the sermon? I just did, and I know that my red silk panties soaked with the most delicious cream. If I closed my eyes, I could almost hear them singing Amazing Grace as I cum all over his holy cock.

“Can all of our new guest stand, state your name, and tell the parishioners what brought you here today?” he asked.

Of course, I was the only one who was new to the place, and the only person standing. I felt out of place, but then again, I like being the center of attention.

“My name is Gypsy. What brought me here?” I asked myself, “Well, it was the billboard along the freeway. The Priest was hot, and I wanted to see for myself just how handsome he was. I know, not the model in the picture, but this one is lovely as well.”

You could hear a pin drop in the middle of that church. Women all covering their mouths, and the men with wide eyes and hard dicks. I knew the truth, though. This Priest wanted to fuck me the moment I stood up and showed him my self-worth. I am a confident little bitch, and there isn’t anything shy about me.

Blasphemous lust brought me to church.

Clearing his throat, the father thanked me and nodded for me to retake my seat. His cheeks flaming red, but the little beads of sweat of his brow told me he would break chastity for me if I asked.

A smile of satisfaction on my face as the basket reached my hands. Of course, I gave a healthy donation to the church. It was the note passed to me that had my attention. I needed to meet the father after service to talk to him about what I am looking for in a home church. Have you ever heard the phrase “Shit, eating grin?” Well, guess what? I had one all over my face. I might get what I need after all.

Forty-five minutes later, lying across a stack of bibles, the good father fucked my mouth while delivering my first communion and the blood of Jesus down my throat. While I gave oral to the Priest, I rubbed a cross over my pussy, slapping it hard against my aching clit. My cunt was wet, but he wasn’t worthy of fucking me, not yet at least. Cumming all over Jesus was all I needed right now. Plus, I warned him that if this cross didn’t contain my dried cum on it when I came back next week, it was his ass that would take it, not mine. I am a blasphemous little demon.

Rosary Beads

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What makes a woman crave BBC? I have never been a fan or sought out a particular race for sexual needs. I know this might sound racist, but it’s the complete opposite. That was all true until I met Michael. His filthy black dick made me a believer.

Bent over the frozen section at the store, the moment I felt someone bump me from behind, I know. I should have slapped Michael, but the meat hit me in the ass instead. Holy Mary, Mother of God! I got slapped on the ass by 10 inches of limp dick. Now I am not saying I approved of this, but it was shocking. Before I looked behind me, I gave my ass a little wiggle. You know, to tease him.

“Excuse me, but your dick is touching my ass!”

Lame line, but it did make me laugh. Michael did too, but not so much that he didn’t give me that look. You know that look. The one that implies that he is going to rip my perfect white cunt wide open. His dark skin made me tingle, and I wanted him. I was even willing to give this man a free ride. We all know that’s saying a lot for me. My pussy might like big dick, but I like money more.

BBC made me swim in a chocolate ocean.

He took my phone and took my number. I didn’t allow this, but he did it anyway. Unable to resist, something about this man had me aching deep inside. It could have been my walls giving me a warning of things to come. I know my pussy was throbbing. I wanted him to hurt me. Make me bleed from the force of his cock against my cervix. Sick and twisted, but I need this right now.

I left the store alone, but when I arrived home and put my food away, he called. His words were demanding. He wanted to punish me for being a stuck up little snow bunny bitch. What the fuck? At a loss for words, I was able to mumble out my address for him, knowing I shouldn’t do this. It was not okay to give a stranger your address. I knew better.

Shaking from fear when the doorbell chimed 15 minutes later, I tried not to open it. Michael pounded when it took too long. I guess this man knew that I would give in. It’s not like I need sex. It was the fact that Micheal wanted to make my whore hole a slave to his BBC.

The door opened. I couldn’t let the neighbors hear his banging. What if they called the cops. I don’t want to explain that I let this strange man come to my house. What would they think of me? What if something happened and it was in the papers? My parents would find out. God forbid the little white girl got dirty by the nasty BBC. 

His hand pressed to the oak door, dominating the wood with that massive appendage. I thought about how it would look around my throat. Would the imprints he left tell the world that my last lover was interracial? No, but a million things go through your head when you’re scared.

“You need to leave. I don’t fuck strangers, and I don’t let cocks that size inside of me,” I whispered. 

 His hand went to the back of my hair as he kicked the front door closed with a loud thud. Not the right response. His fist tightened when I resisted. It was not rape, nor was it abuse. I allowed him into my home. I knew it was wrong, but the pussy is an evil bitch when tempted by the ways of a black dominate male.

“Get the fuck on your knees and open that mouth. You need to suck my fucking dick!”

Dropped to my knees, I fumbled with his zipper, but the beast released itself. Forcing its way from his pants, his hard cock sprang forward and hit me in the face. Never in my life had I seen anything that could compare to the length or girth of that massive monster. He was one for the record books. My hand wrapped halfway round, stretching my fingers to try and meet. No way possible.

“Suck my BBC?” he demanded. 

He asked, and I complied. I flicked the tip of my tongue over the head. The slit was already seeping fluid. Viscous, the liquid was sweet. Maybe the blacker the berry line was real. At least with Michael, it was. Stretching my mouth wide, his member slipped between my lips, leaving a snail trail on my tongue. It was a burst of precum flavor and awakened my senses the moment I tasted it.

 A grasp of my dark strands and the destruction began. Inch by inch, he forced the head into my mouth and eventually down my throat. Did he care about me breathing? Noo! His cock was the one in command here. Michael was brutal with the throat fucking. He ripped into my oral cavity. The head took my breath from me as he pushed deeper into my throat. For a second, I thought I would be the first death by dick.

Gasping, my hands held his thighs as the tears ran down my cheeks. The more I cried, the harder he bucked his hips into my mouth. Mascara staining my cheeks, his cock seeped fluid down my throat, and both hands held my hair as a handle. He was going to not only destroy my pussy, but my throat too. There was a point in the assassination on my throat that I tasted blood. It pooled in my mouth, his cock plunging in with a force that made me swallow it.

“Fucking whore, stick out your goddamn tongue,” he said.

Pulling my head back with one hand, the other stroked over that thick BBC meat. He jacked his dick off. The tip swelled before that first rope of cum hit my mouth. A glob of cream laid on my tongue, but he wasn’t done. Rope after rope, he milked his cock into my mouth, on my face, and even in my hair. The scorch from the seed burned my flesh with a scarlet letter of shame. I had taken the cum of a stranger and all because he had a big black cock.

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