Click here to read the previous parts of the story.
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For someone that had long fantasized about cuckolding, you'd think I would have been better prepared to handle my wife's burgeoning relationship with another man. I wasn't.
It went pretty well when she got home from her date (see the previous entry). There was angst, of course - especially when she said she'd cum while thinking about him - but that's to be expected.
What I didn't expect was that she'd be texting with him all week. I should have expected that, but for some reason I figured Erin would compartmentalize her relationship, that she'd just push it off to the side and I'd really only have to think about it on date night, which was a week away.
That's not what happened, though. Instead, Erin and her would-be boyfriend - I still didn't know anything about him - texted every day. She didn't let me read the texts and I didn't dare try and grab her phone to get a look, but she did an awful lot of smiling while reading his texts.
It wasn't pure agony for me, of course. It turned me on to think about my wife going on dates with another man, kissing him, fucking him, etc. There was way more angst associated with all of it than I expected, though, and I struggled with it to the point that my mood would sometimes darken when she would be staring at her phone and smiling in that giddy kind of way that happens when you're flirting with someone you really like.
"Is he really that interesting?" I asked one evening (it was a Wednesday, I believe, which put her halfway to her second date), doing so in the kind of tone that makes my annoyance perfectly clear.
Erin shot me a look. "Jealousy is okay. Being a brat is not."
I'd asked her to take charge in our marriage. I'd asked her to cuckold me. I'd literally asked for it. She was right to be annoyed with me for being bratty about the thing I'd literally asked her to do. I couldn't help it, though. The jealousy made me irrational.
"You don't have to constantly be texting him and you don't have to be doing it in front of me," I shot back.
Anger flashed across her face. I should have apologized and offered her a foot massage or something similar. I didn't, though. I simply stared back at her.
Erin responded by walking away, leaving me alone on the couch as the show we'd been watching kept on playing. I felt bad, but not bad enough to do anything about it.
Then I heard her voice. She wasn't talking to me, though. She'd called someone. I probably should have given her privacy, but I got up and headed towards the bedroom.
I stood in the hallway and listened as my wife had a conversation with her would-be boyfriend. At first I worried she'd called him to complain about me, but that was ridiculous. She barely knew him. Instead, she'd called just to talk with him. As far as I could tell they were chatting like they were on another date. She was getting to know him a little more. I felt a tidal wave of angst wash over me, plus I felt incredibly stupid for having driven her to call him. Maybe that had been the plan and they'd been texting about setting up a call, but in the moment I felt as though my behavior had brought about my wife's attempt to get to know her would-be boyfriend even better.
I stepped into the bedroom and saw her resting against the pillows with her legs stretched out in front of her. She'd taken off her socks and shoes and she looked slim and elegant in her leggings, which she'd worn for a workout and had yet to strip out of.
I mouthed 'I'm sorry' as I walked into the room. I gestured towards her feet and made a motion with my hands that indicated I wanted to give her a massage. She stared at me for a few seconds and then nodded.
I moved into the bed and took her feet into my lap as Erin carried on talking to the man she'd been on a romantic date with the weekend before. I listened, but all I could do in that moment was picture them kissing. I had no idea what he looked like, so my mind conjured an impossibly handsome man with a great smile, a perfect head of hair, and broad shoulders. I pictured him brushing her soft hair from her forehead and leaning in as his hand rested on her cheek. I pictured her eyes closing as his lips approached. I pictured them kissing, softly and slowly at first and then surrendering to their burgeoning desire and involving their tongues.
I have no idea if the kiss unfolded that way, but that was the imagery that played out over and over in my head as Erin had what seemed like an utterly delightful, flirty conversation with the man she'd be going on a second date with in just a handful of days.
At some point my mind turned to the second date. Where would he take her? What would she wear? More importantly, would they do more than kiss? Would they go back to his place for after dinner drinks and foreplay? Would she wear a dress and let his hand wander up her legs? Would she feel his cock through his pants? Would he play with her tits? Would she let him undress her in some fashion? Would she get so turned on that she fucked him?
Before I realized it, my pulse was racing. My body was flooded with anxiety, too. I felt warm all over and I struggled to concentrate on the foot massage.
"I can't wait to see you this weekend," Erin said.
She smiled as he said something.
"I will be thinking of you. Of that kiss. I do hope we get to do that again."
Her smile got bigger.
"Okay. Have a good night."
She hung up and tossed the phone into the bed. Erin closed her eyes for a moment and I watched as the smile refused to fade from her face.
Then everything changed. She opened her eyes and I saw anger. She said nothing, but Erin pulled her feet from my lap and got up. She walked away and into our closet. She emerged soon after holding a thick black leather belt in her hand.
She folded the belt in half, approached the bed, and put her hands on her hips. She didn't say a word, but I knew what she wanted. More importantly, I knew it's what I deserved.
I got up, lowered my pants and underwear, and bent over the bed. My wife delivered a harsh belting against my backside and my upper thighs. It was far more painful than the previous punishments I'd received. I suspect her anger was far more significant. It made sense. I'd been sullen all week and I'd been more than a little bratty and I'd behaved that way because Erin had done the exact thing I'd asked her to do. Of course the punishment was harsh.
Afterwards, Erin set the belt on the bed and took me into a tight embrace. She held me close as I apologized over and over and over. She forgave me and reminded me that the purpose of disciplining me with a belt was to absolve me of my bad behavior. Her anger departed the moment the punishment ended, and thus I needed only to apologize once before we could both move on.
I thanked her and she kissed me softly. We then returned to our TV show, though I found myself thinking more about our relationship.
I'd asked my wife to take charge. I'd asked her to set rules and to punish me when I broke those rules. I'd asked her to hold me to a higher standard. I'd asked her to have sex with other men. I'd asked her for a great many things and while sitting on the couch with her I realized that I had - in a way - burdened her with a great deal of work. After all, becoming the primary decision maker in a marriage was no small thing.
I felt guilty for how I'd behaved since her date, but my ass and the backs of my thighs still throbbed from the spanking, and thus I'd suffered for my bad behavior and by the new rules of our household I'd been forgiven.
After the show ended I asked if I could give Erin a full body massage. She accepted, much to my delight, and we went back to the bedroom. I undressed her and she crawled into the bed. I spent an hour rubbing her body from head to toe, front and back. I requested permission to give her an orgasm but I was denied. Instead, after the massage I was made to get on my knees at the side of the bed and watch as she masturbated with a vibrator. I was not allowed to speak, to touch her, or to touch myself. I was required to watch, though, to witness her pleasure. After Erin climaxed I was tempted to ask if she'd thought of her would-be boyfriend while masturbating, but I kept quiet.
She handed me her toy and told me to clean it in the bathroom sink. I did so and when I returned to the bedroom Erin had changed into panties and a satin camisole and was under the covers and reading a book. She instructed me to lock up the house and then join her in bed. I did so and we both read for a little while before she turned out her nightstand light.
"Get naked and cuddle with me," she instructed.
I turned off my nightstand light, got naked, and cuddled next to my wife. She made sure our bodies were pressed tightly together - my cock against her pantied ass - and I moved my hips in a gentle thrusting motion in the hope that she'd let me inside her. Honestly, I thought she'd told me to get naked because that's what she wanted. It was not.
"Once you're hard, stop thrusting," she said.
I did as instructed.
Erin turned her head and after shifting her body just a little she kissed me. It was difficult not to thrust while her tongue was in my mouth, but I managed to keep my hips still.
"My pussy is wet and tight and would very much like to be fucked," she said softly. "But you will not be permitted inside me."
I wanted to argue, to plead my case. I kept quiet, though.
"I've decided, in fact, that you will not be permitted inside me until another man has been inside me first," Erin continued.
It was equal parts agonizing and arousing. I wanted to be a cuckold. I dreaded being a cuckold. It was a strange experience.
"I would have let you fuck me this week. I would have let you fuck me after my date on Saturday night. Your behavior this week - tonight especially - means that you are no longer allowed that pleasure. You only get to have me after someone else has. You better hope that things go well on my date, that he continues to impress, that I find my desire for him growing instead of shrinking. Otherwise, it could be a very long time before you get to fuck me, Dan."
"I'm sorry," I said.
She smiled. "I know you are, and I forgive you. In truth, this isn't a punishment. This is a way of helping you. If I deny you pleasure I believe it will make you more interested in your cuckold fantasy. The arousal will overwhelm the feelings that make you bratty. I suppose I could be wrong, but I don't think I am. I think men are simple creatures."
Erin kissed me again. It was a longer, slower, more passionate kiss than the first and she parted her thighs to take my cock between them and moved her hips, stimulating the head - which was now coated in precum - and offering something akin to a handjob, albeit delivered by the exceedingly soft skin of her inner thighs.
"Sleep well," she whispered before her head returned to the pillow.
My cock remained between her thighs until it went soft, which took quite a long time. It wasn't unpleasant, of course, but I felt a wealth of frustration, which is why it took quite some time to fall asleep.
I was much better behaved for the rest of the week, though. I still experienced the angst and frustration that had let to my brattiness, but I managed to contain it, to cut it off before it burst out of me in an unpleasant manner.
---
Erin wore tight jeans, an elegant-but-sexy white halter top, and a pair of strappy white heels for her date. Her hair was down and looked a little wavier than usual. She went with a fresh-faced look and I noted that her lips seemed plumper than usual, though that was probably just a makeup trick of some sort. Though it was a more casual look than a dress, somehow Erin looked sexier in a way her date was absolutely going to enjoy.
She offered no information about where they were going, though I understood why. I'm sure she didn't want her husband showing up to ruin things if I happened to lose my mind and get sullen and bratty while she was out.
I spent my Saturday night doing chores. Erin left a short list for me to accomplish, but I worked the entire time she was gone. I hadn't come close to mastering my feelings and the angst was all-encompassing, so I wouldn't have enjoyed watching a movie or show and I certainly couldn't go out with friends while thinking about my wife maybe doing something sexual with another man.
I wanted her to do something sexual with him. I really did. I just felt an overwhelming level of angst right alongside that desire. There's no question that the part of cuckolding that involves her being on dates with someone else is not the fun part. It's hard. It's really fucking hard.
It was after midnight when I got a text from Erin. She wanted me to pick her up. She gave me his address and told me it had been an exceptionally good night but that she'd had a few drinks and didn't want to take an Uber home. She told me to text her when I arrived and that I should remain in the car in his driveway.
I rushed into the car. I drove to the address, which was a lovely home. A slightly nicer and decidedly newer home than ours, actually. I felt a touch of jealousy as I presumed a certain level of success on his part. I texted Erin after parking in the driveway and not long after the front door opened.
Erin stepped out and a man followed. It was dark and the light next to his door didn't illuminate much so I couldn't make out anything other than he was a handful of inches taller than my wife and looked to have broad shoulders.
I watched him take her into his arms. I watched Erin slip a hand around the back of his neck as they kissed. I watched his hands move down her back and grab her ass hard. My mind raced as I wondered what the kiss meant. Was it one of desire because they'd fooled around but not fucked? Was it the kind of appreciative kiss you share with someone after you've had great sex? Was it something in between?
Erin stepped off his small porch and waved goodbye as she sauntered towards the car. I considered getting out to open the door but she'd been specific in her instructions, so instead I leaned over and opened it from the inside.
My wife entered the car in one elegant movement, set her small handbag on the floor, and then turned to me and smiled.
"Thank you for coming to get me," she said.
I could smell the wine on her breath. She didn't seem drunk, but I understood why she'd be hesitant about getting in an Uber that late.
"It's my pleasure," I replied. "Truly."
She studied my face for a few seconds and asked, "You didn't mind watching us kiss on the porch?"
"I liked it."
Erin reached over and her fingers found my cock. I was half hard - I really had enjoyed watching - and she smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Take me home and I'll give you all the details of my date."
It was a fifteen minute drive and we talked the whole time, but Erin didn't say a word about her date. She was clearly saving that.
Once we were home, she had me open a bottle of wine and I poured two glasses. We took them to the living room. I sat on the far end of the couch and Erin dropped her body right next to mine.
"Was tonight hard for you?" she asked.
"Angst-y," I answered. "I did chores the whole time you were gone, so I guess it was productive, too."
Erin kissed me on the cheek. Her lips lingered for a few seconds and I closed my eyes and smiled at how good it felt. It was nice to have her home. I wondered in that moment if I'd survive her spending the night at another man's house. How could I possibly sleep while feeling so anxious?
"Like I texted you, I had a great night. We went go-karting, believe it or not. At that place with the arcade and the mini golf. They have a big go-kart track, too, and I can't tell you how much fun it was."
Jealousy washed over me and I could tell right away that it was entirely because he'd taken her on a fun date. Dinner was one thing. Dinner and a movie, even, was non-threatening. Something where they had a genuinely great time, though? That was enough to make the jealousy border on overwhelming, at least for a few moments after I saw the smile on her face as she described the date.
"Did he let you win?" I asked.
"We did three races. He won two. I won one."
"Smart man," I replied.
She laughed. "Yes he is."
Her lips found my neck. The kiss was soft and seductive. "We made out after the second race. Fiercely, in fact. We found a quiet little corner of the arcade area and kissed like we were teenagers. My nipples were poking through my bra and top by the time we returned for our third race of the night. Everyone stared. I kind of liked the idea that they all knew I'd been fooling around with my boyfriend."
My eyebrows shot up. "Is he your boyfriend now?"
"That's what I'm calling him. It could all go up in smoke, of course, but that's how it is when you've been with someone for a few weeks. We're going out on Wednesday, though, and we've tentatively scheduled another date for next Saturday. That one will likely be an overnight."
My pulse was racing and I felt warmer than I should have. My wife had just informed me that she planned on having sex with someone else the following Saturday night, though, so of course I was feeling a bit out of sorts.
"I know it's scary," she said as her fingers moved to my inner thigh. "You can manage it, though, and I expect you to do so without resorting to unpleasant behavior. If I get even a hint of it this week I will punish you a great deal quicker than I did last week. I know you want this, Dan. You need to overcome your fear. You need to accept that it's part of this process and not let it overtake you."
"I know," I said. "I know, Erin. It's just...it's so scary."
She smiled sweetly, sipped her wine, and set it on the coffee table. She took my glass, too. Next thing I knew she was on top of me. Her lips were against mine. Her tongue was in my mouth. My hands were on her breasts in the halter top.
Erin sat back and untied the top. She lowered it and unhooked her bra. She took my hands and placed them on her bare breasts.
"You're not the first man to touch my breasts tonight," she said softly. "His hands were on them just like this. I was in his lap just like this."
I looked at her breasts. I squeezed them gently. "He...you were topless with him?"
Erin nodded. "He was topless, too. He has a very nice chest. He works out three or four times a week."
Jealousy and lust battled in me. Neither won. They simply fought. I suffered.
Erin kissed me again and gently removed my hands from her breasts. Then she leaned forward until one of her nipples was pressed against my lips. I took it in my mouth. I took as much of her perfect, perky breast into my mouth as I could and flicked my tongue back and forth over it in the manner I knew my wife enjoyed.
She ran her fingers through my hair and gripped the back of my head. "Just like that, Dan...just like he did. Suck on my tits just like he did."
Erin began to grind her hips over my crotch. She moaned each time she dragged them back and forth, generating friction over the head of my cock and no doubt stimulating her clit, too.
"Baby, that feels so good," she said softly. "Fuck, that feels so good."
I assumed she'd uttered those words to him, that she was recreating elements of her evening as a way of sharing the details of the fun she'd had with another man.
As she rode me - dry humped me, to be exact - we alternated between kissing deeply and me sucking, kissing, and licking her perfect tits as she moaned. My hands roamed all over her body and Erin's moved through my hair repeatedly. I especially liked it when she kissed my neck while moaning.
"I'm close," she whispered at one point. "Fuck, baby, I'm going to cum."
I felt an incredible surge between my legs. My dick was hard as a rock and remarkably close to cumming and it was entirely because I assumed that my wife had experienced an orgasm while grinding in another man's lap that night.
Erin came while on top of me. Her body shuddered as I showered her breasts in soft kisses and thought of her having an orgasm while on her boyfriend's lap. It was the only thing I could think of. Her cumming as he kissed her tits. Her cumming as his dick was hard as a rock in his pants. Her cumming as he thought of fucking her, which is precisely what I was doing in that moment.
"Did you really cum while on top of him?" I asked after she'd recovered from her orgasm.
She caressed my face, kissed me softly, and said, "Yes. I came hard, too. My panties were soaked. My fingers and toes were tingling. It was my first orgasm with another man in years, baby, and it was really, really good."
I wanted to ask if it was better than the orgasm she'd just had, but I kept quiet. I wasn't sure I could handle the angst if she answered the way I assumed she was going to answer.
"I wasn't the only one to have an orgasm, either," she said.
I froze up. I stared at her. My mouth hung open but nothing came out.
Erin climbed off my lap and ran her fingers over my crotch. She grasped my zipper, kissed my neck, and said, "I unzipped his pants. I pulled out his cock. We kissed as I gave him a slow handjob while telling him that my pussy had gotten soaking wet for him."
She didn't lower my zipper.
"He told me he wanted me," she continued. "He told me he wanted to fuck me."
I moaned.
"I told him that he'd get to have me soon enough, that I planned on spending the night at his house next Saturday. Then I told him I was going to make him cum with my hand, that I was going to give him a little preview of the pleasure he'd get to experience next weekend."
She still hadn't lowered my zipper and I was fairly certain I wasn't getting a handjob.
"Then I made him cum, Dan," she whispered. "I made another man cum tonight and it was spectacular. It felt so good. That's why I was so horny when we got home. That's why I rode your lap to another orgasm. It turned me on to get him off, to watch his cock swell up, to watch the cum spurt from the tip, to hear him moan and say my name as he came."
Erin patted my cock through my pants, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and got up. She put on her bra, re-tied her halter top, and finished her glass of wine.
"I'd like a shower," she said. "I'd like you to join me. Clean these glasses and then you can do so. There will be no orgasms for you, but I can promise there will be more cock teasing."
She walked away and I watched her go. Her ass looked fantastic in those jeans.
I washed the wine glasses – drinking the wine in my glass first, of course - and then headed for the master bathroom to join my wife in the shower.
There was more cock teasing. Lots more. There was also me on my knees eating her pussy in the shower, which was more thrilling than I expected.
We went to bed afterwards and once again I slept naked with my body pressed against hers. This time, though, Erin was naked too. It made falling asleep that much harder, which I imagine was the point.
Erin was evolving, as we all should be at all times. She was discovering new kinds of pleasure in her role as the one in charge of our marriage. In particular she'd stumbled upon the joy of tease and denial, which was something that would come to play a larger role in our marriage.
That's for later, though. Up next was surviving a night alone in the house while my wife was in another man's bed. That would prove to be a world class challenge.