Cucked on the Riverbank (Part Two)
(The black bikini image is from year two of our marriage, the same year that this event took place. But it was a different bikini)
"Let’s have some fun," I said reaching for her and pulling her down onto the sleeping bag.
"We can tomorrow honey," she said. "I'm a bit too tired now."
I leaned over her and cupped her breast through her bikini bra. Then I said it.
"Or is it that you only like one cock a night?"
I felt her tense-up. "What are you talking about?”
My hand moved and deftly unclipped her bra, before she had time to protest. The bra fell away, and I cupped one of her big soft, freshly sucked tits and began to rub the nipple. Sophie twisted violently to break the hold, but I held tight and positioned myself on top of her, with my legs either side, effectively pinning her to the floor.
"Stop," she hissed. She was getting angry.
I knew it was time to play my trump card.
"No, I won't stop," I said. "I haven't been sleeping here in the tent. I've been down by the river watching you." She froze.
"I saw you and Pat by the boat trailer."
"Oh," was all she could say and then there was silence.
"We were only talking," Sophie said, but the defiance had gone out of her voice.
“I watched you fuck," I said as I could feel my anger rising …. and my level of arousal. My cock was now achingly stiff and uncomfortably trapped by my shorts. I was certain Sophie could feel it pressing against her.
She was passive now
"I watched the whole thing fucking thing. You were fucking him. I watched you kissing him, and I watched you fucking him. I watched you wrap your arms and legs around him…I watched you being a total slut," I said, strengthening my grip on her arms.
That broke all resistance, and the sobs began to flow. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to do it, Sophie sobbed. “It just happened."
I leant forward and kissed her deeply. She met my tongue with hers and we kissed feverishly. I broke the kiss. "You have to be honest with me. That's not the first time is it?"
"No."
"How many times?" I asked.
"Just two," she blurted out and the sobs began again. "I understand if you hate me."
I moved my hand down to her shorts again and began to undo the button and the zipper. Despite feeling exalted at her confession, I still needed to know more.
“When did you had sex with him?"
“During the lunch break,” she said as her hand began to lightly stroke my cock. It was as if she had finally realized my heightened sense of arousal and that I was probably more aroused than angry.
My mouth went to her nipple. They felt puffy from Pat's sucking. Sophie moaned.
"I want to see your pussy," I said, and I moved and knelt between her legs. I grabbed hold of her shorts and moved them down her legs and off completely. Bringing the crotch of her shorts to my lips, I could feel the slimy wetness of Pat’s seed and smell the musky aroma of my wife’s infidelity.
I reached over, picked up the torch and flicked it on. "No, turn it off,' said Sophie. "People will see."
That was true; anyone watching would have had a clear detailed silhouette of what was happening inside the tent. "They’re all asleep," I said, "and I’m going to see your pussy."
I spread Sophie's legs further and aimed the light at her pussy. My other hand stroked the lips and then I gently parted them and my fingers were greeted by an ocean of wetness. It was hot and slippery, and I could see by the torch light the glistening remnants of Pat's sperm. It had gone clear by this stage, but there was in abundance, coating Sophie's pussy and matting the wisps of her pubic hair. My own cock was rigid, throbbing in anticipation as I explored the hidden cavern where their adultery had been consummated. I sucked my finger, savoring the tangy taste of her unfaithfulness. Sophie moaned again as I worked her clit, well lubricated from Pat's ejaculation.
I was overtaken by a primal need. Somewhere in the deep recesses of our DNA lies a primitive switch that flicks our desire to a singular purpose. "I want to lick you," I said hoarsely, and I lowered my head to Sophie's pussy. She made no effort to stop me and placed both hands lightly on the back of my head as if to sanction the move.
This was long before Internet porn and sites like Slutwives.com made it fashionable for cuckolded husbands to clean the pussies of their adulterous wives. This was an instinctive reaction. It was reclamation.
My nostrils were assaulted by the pungent, musky aroma of pussy secretions and sperm. I began to explore her velvety wetness, probing deeply, my tongue eagerly seeking out the cocktail of her unfaithfulness. It was oily in texture, bland in taste, with a slight tang. Yet at that moment it was a treat from the gods. My own cock was twitching and begging for release. I moved up and kissed her, and we shared the taste of her illicit sex with Pat.
It was time to take her back. My throbbing phallus ached and I was trembling in anticipation. I positioned myself over her and slowly entered her unfaithful slit. The heat and velvety smoothness that greeted me were almost overwhelming and I had to pause to prevent climaxing. This was my first sloppy seconds, but Sophie's cunt was snug and welcoming, with Pat’s potent sperm providing excellent lube. I knew she would soon milk my cock like she had milked Pat's only minutes earlier.
"That feels incredible," I moaned.
"I'm sorry honey,' Sophie said, as we began to move.
"That's ok. I'm not really mad," I said. "The other times you fucked, did you ever use condoms?" It’s funny how the details become important. But I needed to know everything.
"No. I told him I was on the pill," said Sophie, her voice husky.
"That's so hot," I whispered. "Did you enjoy the sex?"
"Yes, it was exciting.”
“What part of it was exciting?”
“I enjoyed the seduction and because it was wrong,” she whispered. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
"Yes," I said, "I wanked while I watched you with Pat.”
“Did you cum?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “It was arousing watching you fucking. You know how much I enjoy hearing about all the guys you fucked before me. Well, it’s like that but better.”
It was at that moment that the power changed hands again. Sophie, who had only a few minutes ago been sobbing uncontrollably, was now acutely aware of my arousal at her infidelity.
"Fuck me baby," Sophie said and began to move more forcefully, "like Pat did."
I could hold back no longer, and I felt the waves of exquisite pleasure engulf me as I jetted, flooding her pussy with semen to add to Pat's. It was another cuckold climax, with the pleasure amplified beyond a normal orgasm by the knowledge that I was, at that moment, sanctioning her promiscuity.
I had reclaimed her. My sperm was now locked with Pat’s in a mortal battle for ownership of my wife’s traitorous cunt. He had taken her but I was fighting back.
I flopped down on her, and we caressed each other tenderly. Finally, I looked up.
"I always knew, right from before we got married, that you wouldn't be faithful to me. It excited me, so I'm not really mad… I've just had the most erotic sexual experience of my life. I just don't like not knowing what's happening.”
“Keep me in the loop," I said after a few moments silence.
There it was. Done! I had just given my wife permission to have sex with other guys.
"I'm so lucky to have you. I really don't deserve you," she said.
"I'm the lucky one," I replied. "All I want is for you to be you."
We then snuggled together and drifted off to sleep, and I was well aware that Sophie had not promised to stop fucking other men. I wasn’t sure what I had unleashed. But what I did know is that I had been aroused beyond all comprehension. I had willingly given my wife away to another man. The rigid societal taboos had tumbled like an Indian skyscraper. I would be judged harshly if anyone found out. To be cuckolded is one thing, but to be a willing cuckold is to invite derision. Even worse, it can kill careers and destroy friendships. In short, it is a ticket to the social leper colony.
However, the cuckold kink is all consuming. It is the lotus flower that can break even the strongest moral convictions. I knew my first creampie was, in all likelihood, not going to be the last…and I couldn’t wait for the next.
"Let’s have some fun," I said reaching for her and pulling her down onto the sleeping bag.
"We can tomorrow honey," she said. "I'm a bit too tired now."
I leaned over her and cupped her breast through her bikini bra. Then I said it.
"Or is it that you only like one cock a night?"
I felt her tense-up. "What are you talking about?”
My hand moved and deftly unclipped her bra, before she had time to protest. The bra fell away, and I cupped one of her big soft, freshly sucked tits and began to rub the nipple. Sophie twisted violently to break the hold, but I held tight and positioned myself on top of her, with my legs either side, effectively pinning her to the floor.
"Stop," she hissed. She was getting angry.
I knew it was time to play my trump card.
"No, I won't stop," I said. "I haven't been sleeping here in the tent. I've been down by the river watching you." She froze.
"I saw you and Pat by the boat trailer."
"Oh," was all she could say and then there was silence.
"We were only talking," Sophie said, but the defiance had gone out of her voice.
“I watched you fuck," I said as I could feel my anger rising …. and my level of arousal. My cock was now achingly stiff and uncomfortably trapped by my shorts. I was certain Sophie could feel it pressing against her.
She was passive now
"I watched the whole thing fucking thing. You were fucking him. I watched you kissing him, and I watched you fucking him. I watched you wrap your arms and legs around him…I watched you being a total slut," I said, strengthening my grip on her arms.
That broke all resistance, and the sobs began to flow. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I didn't mean to do it, Sophie sobbed. “It just happened."
I leant forward and kissed her deeply. She met my tongue with hers and we kissed feverishly. I broke the kiss. "You have to be honest with me. That's not the first time is it?"
"No."
"How many times?" I asked.
"Just two," she blurted out and the sobs began again. "I understand if you hate me."
I moved my hand down to her shorts again and began to undo the button and the zipper. Despite feeling exalted at her confession, I still needed to know more.
“When did you had sex with him?"
“During the lunch break,” she said as her hand began to lightly stroke my cock. It was as if she had finally realized my heightened sense of arousal and that I was probably more aroused than angry.
My mouth went to her nipple. They felt puffy from Pat's sucking. Sophie moaned.
"I want to see your pussy," I said, and I moved and knelt between her legs. I grabbed hold of her shorts and moved them down her legs and off completely. Bringing the crotch of her shorts to my lips, I could feel the slimy wetness of Pat’s seed and smell the musky aroma of my wife’s infidelity.
I reached over, picked up the torch and flicked it on. "No, turn it off,' said Sophie. "People will see."
That was true; anyone watching would have had a clear detailed silhouette of what was happening inside the tent. "They’re all asleep," I said, "and I’m going to see your pussy."
I spread Sophie's legs further and aimed the light at her pussy. My other hand stroked the lips and then I gently parted them and my fingers were greeted by an ocean of wetness. It was hot and slippery, and I could see by the torch light the glistening remnants of Pat's sperm. It had gone clear by this stage, but there was in abundance, coating Sophie's pussy and matting the wisps of her pubic hair. My own cock was rigid, throbbing in anticipation as I explored the hidden cavern where their adultery had been consummated. I sucked my finger, savoring the tangy taste of her unfaithfulness. Sophie moaned again as I worked her clit, well lubricated from Pat's ejaculation.
I was overtaken by a primal need. Somewhere in the deep recesses of our DNA lies a primitive switch that flicks our desire to a singular purpose. "I want to lick you," I said hoarsely, and I lowered my head to Sophie's pussy. She made no effort to stop me and placed both hands lightly on the back of my head as if to sanction the move.
This was long before Internet porn and sites like Slutwives.com made it fashionable for cuckolded husbands to clean the pussies of their adulterous wives. This was an instinctive reaction. It was reclamation.
My nostrils were assaulted by the pungent, musky aroma of pussy secretions and sperm. I began to explore her velvety wetness, probing deeply, my tongue eagerly seeking out the cocktail of her unfaithfulness. It was oily in texture, bland in taste, with a slight tang. Yet at that moment it was a treat from the gods. My own cock was twitching and begging for release. I moved up and kissed her, and we shared the taste of her illicit sex with Pat.
It was time to take her back. My throbbing phallus ached and I was trembling in anticipation. I positioned myself over her and slowly entered her unfaithful slit. The heat and velvety smoothness that greeted me were almost overwhelming and I had to pause to prevent climaxing. This was my first sloppy seconds, but Sophie's cunt was snug and welcoming, with Pat’s potent sperm providing excellent lube. I knew she would soon milk my cock like she had milked Pat's only minutes earlier.
"That feels incredible," I moaned.
"I'm sorry honey,' Sophie said, as we began to move.
"That's ok. I'm not really mad," I said. "The other times you fucked, did you ever use condoms?" It’s funny how the details become important. But I needed to know everything.
"No. I told him I was on the pill," said Sophie, her voice husky.
"That's so hot," I whispered. "Did you enjoy the sex?"
"Yes, it was exciting.”
“What part of it was exciting?”
“I enjoyed the seduction and because it was wrong,” she whispered. "You're enjoying this aren't you?"
"Yes," I said, "I wanked while I watched you with Pat.”
“Did you cum?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “It was arousing watching you fucking. You know how much I enjoy hearing about all the guys you fucked before me. Well, it’s like that but better.”
It was at that moment that the power changed hands again. Sophie, who had only a few minutes ago been sobbing uncontrollably, was now acutely aware of my arousal at her infidelity.
"Fuck me baby," Sophie said and began to move more forcefully, "like Pat did."
I could hold back no longer, and I felt the waves of exquisite pleasure engulf me as I jetted, flooding her pussy with semen to add to Pat's. It was another cuckold climax, with the pleasure amplified beyond a normal orgasm by the knowledge that I was, at that moment, sanctioning her promiscuity.
I had reclaimed her. My sperm was now locked with Pat’s in a mortal battle for ownership of my wife’s traitorous cunt. He had taken her but I was fighting back.
I flopped down on her, and we caressed each other tenderly. Finally, I looked up.
"I always knew, right from before we got married, that you wouldn't be faithful to me. It excited me, so I'm not really mad… I've just had the most erotic sexual experience of my life. I just don't like not knowing what's happening.”
“Keep me in the loop," I said after a few moments silence.
There it was. Done! I had just given my wife permission to have sex with other guys.
"I'm so lucky to have you. I really don't deserve you," she said.
"I'm the lucky one," I replied. "All I want is for you to be you."
We then snuggled together and drifted off to sleep, and I was well aware that Sophie had not promised to stop fucking other men. I wasn’t sure what I had unleashed. But what I did know is that I had been aroused beyond all comprehension. I had willingly given my wife away to another man. The rigid societal taboos had tumbled like an Indian skyscraper. I would be judged harshly if anyone found out. To be cuckolded is one thing, but to be a willing cuckold is to invite derision. Even worse, it can kill careers and destroy friendships. In short, it is a ticket to the social leper colony.
However, the cuckold kink is all consuming. It is the lotus flower that can break even the strongest moral convictions. I knew my first creampie was, in all likelihood, not going to be the last…and I couldn’t wait for the next.
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