Hi everyone. I have read lots of cuckold stories online and I thought it was time for me to contribute. I have a lot more planned for this story, I'm sorry if it is a little longwinded. Things will get much more intense in future installments. PLEASE let me know what you think, suggestions, etc. Thank you for reading!
Hello out there. My name is Doug, and this is the story of how I became a cuckold slave. I suppose that seems like a melodramatic way to put it, but it’s been a fucking intense experience. There have been many mile-high ups and many raw and mind-numbing downs, often occurring simultaneously with the “ups.” I guess I’ll start out by describing what my life was like in the period of continuity that I tend to think of as “Before.”
To be a cuckold, you generally need to have a wife, and that certainly stands true for me. I’ve always called my wife Lizzie, though her real first name is Elizabeth (maiden name Winters, married name Rondell) and her friends all think of her as “L.” We met at college, so I was probably high the first time I saw her as I smoked a lot of herb back then. I assume that’s why I don’t remember “meeting” her per se; rather I remember being single and then emerging out of a cloud of smoke with her on my arm. It was amazing to have a beautiful, popular girlfriend who was legitimately cool to hang out with. It gave me instant credibility among other women as well as the sexually confident men who would have been eager to invade her. We got married a year out of college, and lived together for almost 2 years before the events got set motion that produced our own sexual revolutions.
Obviously she has many wonderful personal qualities, but the ones that come to mind now are melodic, charming laugh, her friendliness, and, of course, her innate sexuality. Given the details I will share later, I suppose that it makes sense to also baldly describe her looks. She’s tall at about 5 foot 7, with long light brown hair and clear, silky just-tan skin (think light-skinned Greek, though she isn’t Greek). She is one of those girls (or women) who always seem clean and good smelling, with soft brown armhair that barely registers against her skin, and who somewhere along the line learned how to dress to appear sexy for any occasion without sacrificing class. She loves to wear form-fitting leggings, so tight that when they hug her firm but slappable ass, every man has to turn around as she passes by. Her breasts are (a wonderful) 34 C, just over a handful each. Her nipples are a little bigger than a quarter soft, and they shrink up to a biteable nickel size when she’s horny. She likes to wear low-cut shirts that show off her cleavage. It takes all my willpower not too dive between the two of them, that’s how amazing they are. She trims her pubic hair, keeping it neat. Sometimes she goes for a wax if beach season is coming up. I love a completely bald pussy, but she says that as a grown woman, she won’t waste her time trying to keep up with it. She LOVES sex, and though she wasn’t very experienced when we met, we eventually explored every inch each other.
I am less exciting in pretty much every area. I think it would be fair to say that most people consider me to be a “nice guy” with perhaps a bit more brainpower than that might imply. I was an English major, and I copy edited for a huge law firm. Certainly not the sexiest job, but it paid the bills and kept Lizzie and me clothed and fed. That was Before though, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to that world. Lookswise, I am a little heavy with a handsome face under brown straight hair that started thinning just after college. My cock basically reflects my white, rather dull appearance. It is about 2 inches long when soft, and it certainly doesn’t hang past my long ball sack, which houses two brazil nut sized, well, nuts. That is to say, my balls are small but my scrotum hangs low, emphasizing my major “shortcoming.” When it gets hard, I reach about 5 inches, and though I’ve never measured I’d say its about 2.5 inches around. Yup, pretty thin. I know that MANY men are smaller, but my package has never amounted to the satisfying handfuls that Lizzie would come to love, need, and eventually serve.
Our sex life was definitely great for me, as I got to squeeze the perfect round tits of one of the hottest woman I’d ever seen while I came in her sweet, young pussy. However, we both knew I had never taken her to the extremes of her sexuality, and she only came during sex occasionally. She was always hungry for sex with me for some reason. I guess in her momentary horniness she forgot about the (usually) inevitable unsatisfying ending. Also, I know that she loved me on a deep personal level so she had been able to look past sexual inadequacy. Despite all this, she had never outright complained, at least not until The Night.
THE NIGHT
I met her at home after work (she works at a museum, but usually gets home earlier than me), and after dinner and some relaxing we settled into bed for some sex. We both knew it was coming, but we were still excited, running our hands over one another, undoing buttons and sliding down pants. I still remember the look in her eyes, the wild piercing stare of someone completely enthralled with another’s body, as she slid down on my cock. I would see that look many, many more times, but after this night it was rarely directed towards me.
I was kneeling on the bed with my back at a 45 degree angle, her tight lips wrapped around my cock, and her body angled away from mine. The position gave me a great view of her bouncing tits, but my lack of length limited the movement of our hips. We never spoke about the limitations that my penis put on our sex lives, not to mention her pleasure, but there was a certain mutual understanding. However, it seemed that tonight, she had had enough.
We rolled from the angled position into one where she was on top, bouncing her smooth, luscious ass on top of my stub. She laid down on top of me, her ass cheeks opening wide to display her beautiful, tempting asshole. We never tried anal, though I sometimes suggested it. She would say something along the lines of: “oh, I just can’t imagine how that would feel good to me.” Her star-hole was definitely tight enough to make it seem uncomfortable, even with my meager offering, though goddammit was it delicious (she did let me lick it, oh how I would become accustomed to that) and sexy. I was generally preoccupied with pleasuring her lovely cunt anyway, so I always just shrugged it off.
Anyway, I was too caught up in the ecstasy of the act to realize that the look of lust had evaporated from her eyes along with the fervor of her humps. Before I knew what had happened, she rolled off of me, my cock losing its warm, wet home and ******* to the cold air of the bedroom. I looked up, bewildered, losing my hardness as I turned and saw her face. Disappointment, sadness, anger, and pity all somehow found room to fit into her expression. I didn’t need to say anything to convey my own sentiment: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m not getting what I need,” she said. “I love you so much, and I can tell that you have a great time, but the sex we have has become unfulfilling. I know there is more out there.”
“Wow,” I said, stunned. Obviously I was aware of the situation, but I guess I thought she either didn’t worry about it or had other priorities. The last thing she said, about knowing there is more out there, stuck in my mind. But I had other, more immediate questions. “Ok…how long have you been thinking this?”
“I have to be honest with you.” An ominous way to start, but what she continued with sent my conception of our relationship reeling. “From after the first couple of times we had sex, it became clear to me that there were certain limitations to where you could take me. Again, it has just been weighing on my mind for so long, and we are finally discussing it, so I might as well come out and say it.”
Butterflies filled my stomach. I was completely taken off-guard. One second we, or at least I, was in the midst of raw, carnal pleasure, the next, my wife of almost 2 years was about to tell me a secret she had been holding back for even longer than our married life.
The anger and disappointment left her face, and she looked down at me with sad eyes. “It’s your penis, baby. I’m sorry but its true. Its hard to describe, but I can feel that there is more room in me than you fill up. Its just…its just too small. God, I am so horrible for saying all of this, but it has genuinely been such a constant source of discouragement.”
My penis had wilted a little with the loss of my wife’s pussy to keep it interested, and upon hearing this news I expected it to fully deflate. To my surprise, it began to reharden as I heard my beloved wife belittle my cock. She didn’t notice, she had already opened the floodgates and intended to completely unload her emotional burden.
“At first, I thought I could get used to it, or that we could find some way around it. You know, get creative like we have tried. Just push through and love will find a way. But you know me, I crave sex even the second after we finish having it, and I don’t think it should be that way. In fact, I won’t let it be that way anymore.”
I never expected this conversation to actually happen, and I was beyond shocked. It seemed that my life was being unwound right in front me. My wife had been keeping such a huge secret from me for years? How ******* had I been? I was slowly coming to terms with this bombshell, while her honesty only drove her to be more frank.
“Wait Lizzie, why do you always seem so horny and anxious to fuck if this is how you’ve always felt?”
Thanks again! Let me know your comments
Hello out there. My name is Doug, and this is the story of how I became a cuckold slave. I suppose that seems like a melodramatic way to put it, but it’s been a fucking intense experience. There have been many mile-high ups and many raw and mind-numbing downs, often occurring simultaneously with the “ups.” I guess I’ll start out by describing what my life was like in the period of continuity that I tend to think of as “Before.”
To be a cuckold, you generally need to have a wife, and that certainly stands true for me. I’ve always called my wife Lizzie, though her real first name is Elizabeth (maiden name Winters, married name Rondell) and her friends all think of her as “L.” We met at college, so I was probably high the first time I saw her as I smoked a lot of herb back then. I assume that’s why I don’t remember “meeting” her per se; rather I remember being single and then emerging out of a cloud of smoke with her on my arm. It was amazing to have a beautiful, popular girlfriend who was legitimately cool to hang out with. It gave me instant credibility among other women as well as the sexually confident men who would have been eager to invade her. We got married a year out of college, and lived together for almost 2 years before the events got set motion that produced our own sexual revolutions.
Obviously she has many wonderful personal qualities, but the ones that come to mind now are melodic, charming laugh, her friendliness, and, of course, her innate sexuality. Given the details I will share later, I suppose that it makes sense to also baldly describe her looks. She’s tall at about 5 foot 7, with long light brown hair and clear, silky just-tan skin (think light-skinned Greek, though she isn’t Greek). She is one of those girls (or women) who always seem clean and good smelling, with soft brown armhair that barely registers against her skin, and who somewhere along the line learned how to dress to appear sexy for any occasion without sacrificing class. She loves to wear form-fitting leggings, so tight that when they hug her firm but slappable ass, every man has to turn around as she passes by. Her breasts are (a wonderful) 34 C, just over a handful each. Her nipples are a little bigger than a quarter soft, and they shrink up to a biteable nickel size when she’s horny. She likes to wear low-cut shirts that show off her cleavage. It takes all my willpower not too dive between the two of them, that’s how amazing they are. She trims her pubic hair, keeping it neat. Sometimes she goes for a wax if beach season is coming up. I love a completely bald pussy, but she says that as a grown woman, she won’t waste her time trying to keep up with it. She LOVES sex, and though she wasn’t very experienced when we met, we eventually explored every inch each other.
I am less exciting in pretty much every area. I think it would be fair to say that most people consider me to be a “nice guy” with perhaps a bit more brainpower than that might imply. I was an English major, and I copy edited for a huge law firm. Certainly not the sexiest job, but it paid the bills and kept Lizzie and me clothed and fed. That was Before though, and I don’t know if I’ll ever return to that world. Lookswise, I am a little heavy with a handsome face under brown straight hair that started thinning just after college. My cock basically reflects my white, rather dull appearance. It is about 2 inches long when soft, and it certainly doesn’t hang past my long ball sack, which houses two brazil nut sized, well, nuts. That is to say, my balls are small but my scrotum hangs low, emphasizing my major “shortcoming.” When it gets hard, I reach about 5 inches, and though I’ve never measured I’d say its about 2.5 inches around. Yup, pretty thin. I know that MANY men are smaller, but my package has never amounted to the satisfying handfuls that Lizzie would come to love, need, and eventually serve.
Our sex life was definitely great for me, as I got to squeeze the perfect round tits of one of the hottest woman I’d ever seen while I came in her sweet, young pussy. However, we both knew I had never taken her to the extremes of her sexuality, and she only came during sex occasionally. She was always hungry for sex with me for some reason. I guess in her momentary horniness she forgot about the (usually) inevitable unsatisfying ending. Also, I know that she loved me on a deep personal level so she had been able to look past sexual inadequacy. Despite all this, she had never outright complained, at least not until The Night.
THE NIGHT
I met her at home after work (she works at a museum, but usually gets home earlier than me), and after dinner and some relaxing we settled into bed for some sex. We both knew it was coming, but we were still excited, running our hands over one another, undoing buttons and sliding down pants. I still remember the look in her eyes, the wild piercing stare of someone completely enthralled with another’s body, as she slid down on my cock. I would see that look many, many more times, but after this night it was rarely directed towards me.
I was kneeling on the bed with my back at a 45 degree angle, her tight lips wrapped around my cock, and her body angled away from mine. The position gave me a great view of her bouncing tits, but my lack of length limited the movement of our hips. We never spoke about the limitations that my penis put on our sex lives, not to mention her pleasure, but there was a certain mutual understanding. However, it seemed that tonight, she had had enough.
We rolled from the angled position into one where she was on top, bouncing her smooth, luscious ass on top of my stub. She laid down on top of me, her ass cheeks opening wide to display her beautiful, tempting asshole. We never tried anal, though I sometimes suggested it. She would say something along the lines of: “oh, I just can’t imagine how that would feel good to me.” Her star-hole was definitely tight enough to make it seem uncomfortable, even with my meager offering, though goddammit was it delicious (she did let me lick it, oh how I would become accustomed to that) and sexy. I was generally preoccupied with pleasuring her lovely cunt anyway, so I always just shrugged it off.
Anyway, I was too caught up in the ecstasy of the act to realize that the look of lust had evaporated from her eyes along with the fervor of her humps. Before I knew what had happened, she rolled off of me, my cock losing its warm, wet home and ******* to the cold air of the bedroom. I looked up, bewildered, losing my hardness as I turned and saw her face. Disappointment, sadness, anger, and pity all somehow found room to fit into her expression. I didn’t need to say anything to convey my own sentiment: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I’m not getting what I need,” she said. “I love you so much, and I can tell that you have a great time, but the sex we have has become unfulfilling. I know there is more out there.”
“Wow,” I said, stunned. Obviously I was aware of the situation, but I guess I thought she either didn’t worry about it or had other priorities. The last thing she said, about knowing there is more out there, stuck in my mind. But I had other, more immediate questions. “Ok…how long have you been thinking this?”
“I have to be honest with you.” An ominous way to start, but what she continued with sent my conception of our relationship reeling. “From after the first couple of times we had sex, it became clear to me that there were certain limitations to where you could take me. Again, it has just been weighing on my mind for so long, and we are finally discussing it, so I might as well come out and say it.”
Butterflies filled my stomach. I was completely taken off-guard. One second we, or at least I, was in the midst of raw, carnal pleasure, the next, my wife of almost 2 years was about to tell me a secret she had been holding back for even longer than our married life.
The anger and disappointment left her face, and she looked down at me with sad eyes. “It’s your penis, baby. I’m sorry but its true. Its hard to describe, but I can feel that there is more room in me than you fill up. Its just…its just too small. God, I am so horrible for saying all of this, but it has genuinely been such a constant source of discouragement.”
My penis had wilted a little with the loss of my wife’s pussy to keep it interested, and upon hearing this news I expected it to fully deflate. To my surprise, it began to reharden as I heard my beloved wife belittle my cock. She didn’t notice, she had already opened the floodgates and intended to completely unload her emotional burden.
“At first, I thought I could get used to it, or that we could find some way around it. You know, get creative like we have tried. Just push through and love will find a way. But you know me, I crave sex even the second after we finish having it, and I don’t think it should be that way. In fact, I won’t let it be that way anymore.”
I never expected this conversation to actually happen, and I was beyond shocked. It seemed that my life was being unwound right in front me. My wife had been keeping such a huge secret from me for years? How ******* had I been? I was slowly coming to terms with this bombshell, while her honesty only drove her to be more frank.
“Wait Lizzie, why do you always seem so horny and anxious to fuck if this is how you’ve always felt?”
Thanks again! Let me know your comments
I've had this story brewing for a while, and if I can get where I hope to get, it won't be like any cuckold story I've ever read. I'm trying to include all the different facets: SPH, sex with other people (obviously), some sissification and bisex later. 