Being a cuck
My wife has written in her blog about how we came to enjoy the 'cuckold' lifestyle. Here it is:
I’m often asked about what might be described as ‘the cuckold lifestyle’, how it works and how it began. For me, the start pre-dates my marriage. From about 13 years of age I had a very high sex drive (and still do) and had my first sexual experience – oral sex with a much older man – at 14. So I suppose I always knew I’d be most unlikely to settle for almost a lifetime of sexual experiences with just one man.
What happened with my husband, John, is as follows. We’d been dating and enjoying a good sex life at weekends. He liked the fact I wore seamed and fishnet stockings and that I enjoyed showing myself off in pubs, wine bars, clubs, even out shopping and the like. One Saturday we were getting down to it in my flat – I was on all fours in a suspender belt, seams and heels and as he was about to go into me he spotted a big semen stain on my suspender belt. Questions were asked. I denied everything and said it was his but he remembered the last time I’d worn this particular belt and knew it wasn’t. I continued to deny everything, despite the fact that I knew it was a colleague’s spunk after he’d cum on me in a pub toilet the night before. But he knew I was lying and stormed off.
A couple of weeks later he rang and asked to meet and so we talked about it and I admitted having a ‘thing’ with Andy, a guy at work (I was actually playing with two guys at the time but I didn’t tell him this until later). He said he had thought about it and didn’t object to me having fun, as he knew how much I loved sex but he did object to not knowing and being lied to and made to feel a fool. He asked me to describe what had been going on with Andy and as I did so, he asked more and more detailed questions and admitted he was very aroused hearing about my slutty behaviour, sucking Andy’s cock and encouraging him to spunk all over my face, for example. I told him I could never imagine only having one man and if he couldn’t accept that, he should find someone else.
He said he could accept this but only if he was involved. Involved how? Threesomes? He didn’t really know but as a minimum I must tell him everything. So the next Friday after an evening drinking with Andy and being a slut in the toilets, I went to John’s flat, he saw how I had dressed for my night out (seams, heels, mini skirt, black ¼ cup bra under a thin white blouse) and as he fucked me I told him what I’d been up to. Fair to say that was the best sex we’d ever had.
For a time this worked for us – I’d be a slut on a night out, I’d tell him everything, even taunting him about it and we’d have terrific sex. John always knew I have a big thing about black men and in time I told him about the second colleague, Greg, who was black and very, very big (and very kinky). John wanted to watch me with Greg, so one evening while he hid himself in my bedroom wardrobe, I brought Greg back to my flat. I found that being watched was a massive turn on for me and I really put on a ‘show’ – every position, moaning loudly, shouting that I wanted to be gang banged by Greg’s mates, all sorts of really filthy stuff. After Greg left, John and I fucked until the middle of the morning.
Then we progressed to John watching openly, watching me with a variety of men. He even introduced me to some of them. I didn’t always have full sex – I was very keen on oral back then and John loves watching a man ejaculate in my mouth and I also greatly enjoyed having men ejaculate on my face.
When we married, I had assumed I would need to turn down the dial on my slutty behaviour but John said no, if anything, he wanted to step it up, arguing that this would help to keep our marriage and our sex lives fresh, so he suggested I continue to wear suspender belts, stockings and stiletto heels or patent high heel boots to work as often as possible, left my bra at home (or wear a ¼ cup) and continue to fellate and fuck as many as my colleagues and work contacts as I wished.
After we married and now living together, we played different ways, enjoying the variety. For example, one summer evening we arranged for me to have a sex session with a guy, pretending my husband was away, but he was actually outside and able to watch through the French windows. However, shortly after his ‘show’ got underway, I played a mean trick and closed the curtains. He could still hear us going at it with the windows open but was very frustrated that he couldn’t watch and I found his frustration was a thrill for me and something I wanted to do more.
I think this was when things began to change. I wasn’t enjoying him watching as much as I used to as the outfits, positions etc were to his liking, not mine and he was interfering too much, rather than just passively watching. I did a few meetings with guys where he would see me getting ready, putting on my stockings, doing my make-up, preparing myself for my date but he remained at home and we both found the power of his imagination of all the things I might be doing actually added to his pleasure. For example, I found a club in Wandsworth called ‘Black Lust’ which described itself as a club “for white women, wishing to meet black men” and I got him to drive me there and drop me off, watching me walk in dressed in my sexy best and huge heels but he had to go home and wait to find out later what I’d done in the club.
More recently I made a lifestyle choice and decided to find a regular sex partner – black, of course – and so now I don’t have full sex with any other men although I provide hand relief or occasional oral for others, like my boss. I don’t even have sex with my husband – he must be satisfied with regular hand relief and as he likes the idea of me being ‘on the game’ I charge him a fee even for that ‘service’. Of course, I taunt and humiliate him about the fact that he’ll never have sex with me again and I’ve recently stopped giving him oral as well but he enjoys his humiliating status. I’ve never let him watch me with my partner but I have occasionally phoned him and let him listen as I take a hard pounding from my lovely black b**st of a man. He liked this so much he even bought me a Bluetooth headset, so he could hear it all in glorious detail.
Is this lifestyle for everyone? No, of course not. But it has worked for us and I know I am happier and feel so much younger than my age, thanks to the hundreds of men I have milked, sucked and fucked. Does this make me a wanton slut? Yes, and what’s wrong with that?
I’m often asked about what might be described as ‘the cuckold lifestyle’, how it works and how it began. For me, the start pre-dates my marriage. From about 13 years of age I had a very high sex drive (and still do) and had my first sexual experience – oral sex with a much older man – at 14. So I suppose I always knew I’d be most unlikely to settle for almost a lifetime of sexual experiences with just one man.
What happened with my husband, John, is as follows. We’d been dating and enjoying a good sex life at weekends. He liked the fact I wore seamed and fishnet stockings and that I enjoyed showing myself off in pubs, wine bars, clubs, even out shopping and the like. One Saturday we were getting down to it in my flat – I was on all fours in a suspender belt, seams and heels and as he was about to go into me he spotted a big semen stain on my suspender belt. Questions were asked. I denied everything and said it was his but he remembered the last time I’d worn this particular belt and knew it wasn’t. I continued to deny everything, despite the fact that I knew it was a colleague’s spunk after he’d cum on me in a pub toilet the night before. But he knew I was lying and stormed off.
A couple of weeks later he rang and asked to meet and so we talked about it and I admitted having a ‘thing’ with Andy, a guy at work (I was actually playing with two guys at the time but I didn’t tell him this until later). He said he had thought about it and didn’t object to me having fun, as he knew how much I loved sex but he did object to not knowing and being lied to and made to feel a fool. He asked me to describe what had been going on with Andy and as I did so, he asked more and more detailed questions and admitted he was very aroused hearing about my slutty behaviour, sucking Andy’s cock and encouraging him to spunk all over my face, for example. I told him I could never imagine only having one man and if he couldn’t accept that, he should find someone else.
He said he could accept this but only if he was involved. Involved how? Threesomes? He didn’t really know but as a minimum I must tell him everything. So the next Friday after an evening drinking with Andy and being a slut in the toilets, I went to John’s flat, he saw how I had dressed for my night out (seams, heels, mini skirt, black ¼ cup bra under a thin white blouse) and as he fucked me I told him what I’d been up to. Fair to say that was the best sex we’d ever had.
For a time this worked for us – I’d be a slut on a night out, I’d tell him everything, even taunting him about it and we’d have terrific sex. John always knew I have a big thing about black men and in time I told him about the second colleague, Greg, who was black and very, very big (and very kinky). John wanted to watch me with Greg, so one evening while he hid himself in my bedroom wardrobe, I brought Greg back to my flat. I found that being watched was a massive turn on for me and I really put on a ‘show’ – every position, moaning loudly, shouting that I wanted to be gang banged by Greg’s mates, all sorts of really filthy stuff. After Greg left, John and I fucked until the middle of the morning.
Then we progressed to John watching openly, watching me with a variety of men. He even introduced me to some of them. I didn’t always have full sex – I was very keen on oral back then and John loves watching a man ejaculate in my mouth and I also greatly enjoyed having men ejaculate on my face.
When we married, I had assumed I would need to turn down the dial on my slutty behaviour but John said no, if anything, he wanted to step it up, arguing that this would help to keep our marriage and our sex lives fresh, so he suggested I continue to wear suspender belts, stockings and stiletto heels or patent high heel boots to work as often as possible, left my bra at home (or wear a ¼ cup) and continue to fellate and fuck as many as my colleagues and work contacts as I wished.
After we married and now living together, we played different ways, enjoying the variety. For example, one summer evening we arranged for me to have a sex session with a guy, pretending my husband was away, but he was actually outside and able to watch through the French windows. However, shortly after his ‘show’ got underway, I played a mean trick and closed the curtains. He could still hear us going at it with the windows open but was very frustrated that he couldn’t watch and I found his frustration was a thrill for me and something I wanted to do more.
I think this was when things began to change. I wasn’t enjoying him watching as much as I used to as the outfits, positions etc were to his liking, not mine and he was interfering too much, rather than just passively watching. I did a few meetings with guys where he would see me getting ready, putting on my stockings, doing my make-up, preparing myself for my date but he remained at home and we both found the power of his imagination of all the things I might be doing actually added to his pleasure. For example, I found a club in Wandsworth called ‘Black Lust’ which described itself as a club “for white women, wishing to meet black men” and I got him to drive me there and drop me off, watching me walk in dressed in my sexy best and huge heels but he had to go home and wait to find out later what I’d done in the club.
More recently I made a lifestyle choice and decided to find a regular sex partner – black, of course – and so now I don’t have full sex with any other men although I provide hand relief or occasional oral for others, like my boss. I don’t even have sex with my husband – he must be satisfied with regular hand relief and as he likes the idea of me being ‘on the game’ I charge him a fee even for that ‘service’. Of course, I taunt and humiliate him about the fact that he’ll never have sex with me again and I’ve recently stopped giving him oral as well but he enjoys his humiliating status. I’ve never let him watch me with my partner but I have occasionally phoned him and let him listen as I take a hard pounding from my lovely black b**st of a man. He liked this so much he even bought me a Bluetooth headset, so he could hear it all in glorious detail.
Is this lifestyle for everyone? No, of course not. But it has worked for us and I know I am happier and feel so much younger than my age, thanks to the hundreds of men I have milked, sucked and fucked. Does this make me a wanton slut? Yes, and what’s wrong with that?
2 years ago
