British Cuckold Marriage Ch 02

I've merely described the background and characters in my first story ......that fateful night when my wife was taken by another man and which began the story.

I say 'story', but that's not correct because as I told you, nothing I have said or will say is fiction. It all happened and it happened as I tell it.

I shall continue from there then, though it was neither the start nor the end of the saga.

The characters all have names but I'll have to change them here. I don't want to,but they ...we... are real people and could be recognised from what I've written because the events and locations are the actual ones.

I'll call my wife Cassandra, which would suit her. Now, be clear, we are NOT talking about some threadbare old tart with love handles and cheap makeup. If she were, then she wouldn't be able to exert the control she does over me and, actually, every other man who sees her.

She is naturally attractive and makes the most of that. You won't see her with a hair out of place or any item of clothing not subtly contrived to entice. Whats under those expensive clothes is even more impressive I promise you. Long slim legs, perfect body and natural elegance. When unshaven the coiffure between her legs is red, although she changed her hairstyle to blonde some while back, so this is a secret to most. She's not big in the chest area- the opposite really, but that definitely doesn't stop men, ( or women), wanting her till it hurts.

Go back to that night now, I'll conclude it by saying that my friend left in a hurry the following morning. She went downstairs to see him but I was quite properly ashamed to face him. I think he was relieved to get out of there in one piece,because I heard him ask her, "Am I going to get beaten up now?"

That day and night were strange. I was shattered and un-manned, and she convinced me that I was the only one at fault- she being a complete victim. I fell for it all- how she felt degraded by what I'd "made her do" and how I'd sullied the marriage. She played me for the idiot I am and got exactly what she wanted - control of the relationship, the moral high ground, and all the feelings of guilt and regret were directed at me.

She had the whip hand now. No more constraints on her sex life or future behaviour.

She was brilliant - blending her portrayal of victimhood and remorse with graphic details of their foreplay and positions -whilst not forgetting to throw in that she was sore because his penis was so big!!!

She enjoyed my pain, but I'm not exactly complaining either.

I said I'd be truthful and the truth is that it excited me,and still excites me now. I'll admit that at different times it also made me desolate and the details of her confession cut like a knife as much as it aroused me. If there's such a thing as self esteem I don't remember, but if I ever had it she took it away that night by telling me how big his penis was and how deep it went between her legs.

I often hear couples saying how well adjusted and content they are in a cuckold marriage, but if that's true they're not doing it properly. I love her and it's also agonising when she's being fucked by someone else. You visualise the details over and over in your mind and it's more than cruel, more than hurtful. However, there's a shameful thrill which can't be equaled by any other sexual experience! It's painful and humiliating but gradually you enjoy that pain. You crave that humiliation.

Just an occasional risky adventure at first but it sinks in over time that you enjoy being what you are, which is an inadequate man with a small penis. You'll accept that the woman you love sleeps with other men because they're BETTER than you, not to gratify your disgusting little perversion but because she wants their dicks and she doesn't want yours. Don't kid yourself, your wife and her lovers regard you as no more than a pathetic loser who will do anything to hang on to her. She'd probably prefer to leave you and have a satisfying relationship with a better man, but stays with you for the material things you can give her and the money you provide.

That's harsh but the more you accept it, the more you enjoy the reality of your own worthlessness and inadequacy. It won't go away because it's true,so it hurts, and the more it hurts the more you need it.

It was a while before we did anything like that again, going through a period of conciliation. The idea of a repeat performance wasn't mentioned during that dialogue, but amongst the other conversations she'd described to me exactly how he'd stroked her leg on the sofa and as they kissed gradually moved his hand up and into her panties. Of course I took the bait and asked more...She'd told him she wanted him inside her and opened her legs for him to get in between them, take his cock out and mount her,pulling her panties aside to penetrate her. They fucked with her sitting up, which stopped his penis going right inside so they put the cushions on the floor and she laid on her back to take his dick even further inside. By her account he must have been getting his own weird kick out of the circumstances, asking her in a whisper if his dick was bigger than mine and "making" her say it was, and to tell him he was a 'better fuck' than me.

Now, rather than just thrusting into her with her panties pulled aside, "he said he wanted my knickers right off and he made me stand in front of him so he could look at me and pull them down ... ...''

I actually didn't think that through properly at the time since I was busy with my erection hearing the tale HOWEVER she went on ..."because he knows you like to be the one to do that...''

(I'll make a confession -that's a THING with us. I'd always been turned on by saying I was the only one who could take her knickers off, and getting her to stand up while I did it 'Ceremonially').

So......... hang on...somehow he KNEW that, didn't he?... and that was a thought which suddenly struck me l. He knew this private thing about our sex life and he knew it was my ultimate personal privilege - her ultimate submission. Perhaps our most intimate thing, but it's probably not that usual - not something you'd guess. Yet he KNEW all about it, AND I'm sure he wanted to do it for a purpose- to demonstrate to her his dominance over me.

That's all very well, but more importantly, it definitely suggests that this wasn't their first adulterous interaction doesn't it? Not their first intimate conversation? In fact it was hard to avoid that conclusion, much as I tried to.

I wonder how much detail I should go into? Maybe this should have been a book because there's so much to be told without making anything up. I'm mindful of the risk of making one 'story' too long and boring the reader.

Okay, let's put the matter of previous stuff I'd yet to find out about on hold. I'll go into that in future if anyone's interested.

We had a few months getting over the recent upset. Being quite close it seemed. My friend, (I'll call him Paul here), had stopped calling round and naturally he and I avoided each other.

One evening I'd promised to be home by 5 but I was late. As I walked through the door she was standing in the hallway in a lovely white outfit with matching handbag and shoes. I could see she'd been to the hairdressers and spent hours doing her make up but she looked angry and showed a side of herself which no one else ever sees. "Where the FUCK have you been you fucking CUNT?"

I was mystified and said so ... "You know I'm going out tonight and now I'm late. Give me the car keys!"

I knew no such thing but she insisted I'd agreed a week earlier to her going to meet her old school friend Antonia, telling me that I obviously never listen to her. She wasn't listening to my reply but rushed past glaring at me, took the car keys and left the front door swinging open.

I heard my car accelerating up the street as I walked in, confused, and started cooking for the kids and I watched tv with them for a while before bed.

When that was done I really started wondering exactly where she'd gone - of course I did!

I found the bedroom and en suite bathroom in total dis array. More than usual. Discarded clothing, damp bath robe and tissues stained with makeup, open pots of all sorts of creams, powders, eye liners and lipsticks with the lids chucked everywhere. A variety of rejected underwear sets and outfits thrown on the bed and bedroom floor.

It was normal for me to clear up this sort of thing after her, but the sheer volume of it was enough to tell me she'd taken a LOT of trouble getting ready. So did the lingering haze of expensive perfume and her open jewellery box on the bed.

In the bin in the bathroom I found a Harrod's bag and inside that the crumpled wrappings of an underwear set, silk stockings and a suspender belt, all by a well known designer lingerie company.

Come on.........you don't need to be Sherlock Holmes do you? I started that frantic period of turmoil which every cuckold will recognise. Not sure whether I was more heartbroken or turned on. I started jealously searching her draws and pockets and eventually found a note of directions to a hotel just outside Slough with that days date on it and a room number underlined, all in her handwriting.

As the time went slowly I kept visualising the horror and delicious visualisation of what exactly would be going on in that room right now.

I decided to go to bed and try to sleep and suspend my torture till she got home, but of course I couldn't get it out of my mind. Now this is truly shameful but I said I'd be truthful- I soon found myself masturbating till I fell asleep.

The next thing is when I saw the lights in the driveway and heard her park the car at about 3.45 am.

I watched her adjust her clothes and walk in with the closest I've ever seen to a guilty look on her face. I heard the key in the latch and she walked straight past me into the lounge, where she sat down and lit a cigarette.

Not drunk, but she'd obviously had a drink or two, she reacted to my questions about her visit to her friends house ending so late with little of her usual persuasive and apparently hurt attitude. She gave the right answers but had a little smirk on her face throughout.

One thing which was obvious was her long lovely BARE legs, no longer clad in the expensive nylons she'd gone out in. She stood up and started walking out of the room, saying she didn't have time for my mad suspicions, but I had to know and I found myself jumping to my feet and just yanking her skirt right up around her waist to confirm my thoughts -and as I thought, she'd come back home with no panties on!

The surreal nature of what happened next is burned into my mind. She made no attempt to pull her skirt down but stood there with a defiant smile on her face which I shall always remember. Only then did I notice in the bright light above her that her usually perfect hair was slightly disarranged and her careful makeup somehow generally smeared round a bit as if she'd been exercising in the gym with her evening clothes on.

She seemed happy for me to stare at her exposed mound which even from a distance had obviously been recently destroyed. The red hair was matted in places with dried semen, and her labia, which are not normally visible without being parted were enlarged and inflamed, standing out from the surrounding pubic hair.

She let me touch it but grabbed my wrist and said, "Gently...I'm VERY sore in there". Still, she let me put my fingers in, but under her control,since she held onto my wrist.

Her eyes said, "Go on then... satisfy your sick curiosity, but you WON'T like it, and I absolutely don't give a fuck what you think anyway."

It was wet inside and she was incredibly stretched. She'd been truthful about being sore because she let out little gasps and screwed her eyes up intermittently. Part soreness certainly, but also reminiscent of the noises she makes when climaxing.

She was enjoying something a lot, whether that was being touched or the more mental thrill of being both caught out and defying me at the same time, I'm not sure.

Certainly she had an unexpected orgasm there and then with her thighs and buttocks shaking uncontrollably and the remarkable sight of goosebumps appearing instantly on both, then disappearing immediately after she'd finished that long, low, purring whimper that comes out when she's genuinely coming.

When she'd finished she sat back down on the sofa, her skirt now somehow missing altogether,naked from the waist down except for the heels she'd kept on through all that. She crossed her long legs rather in the style of that woman in the film, ( Sharon Stone was it?), and lit a cigarette from her handbag. "No point in hiding these now then" she said, producing her silk panties from the handbag screwed into a ball,and threw them on the floor in front of me. "I rinsed them through in the hotel room but I don't know whether they'll wash out."

There was silence for an age as she sat there finishing her cigarette and looking at me as if I were somehow the guilty party. "I'm not going to bed like this. You'd better go and run me a bath. I'll be up in a while."

She came upstairs,threw her remaining clothes on the bathroom floor without speaking and got into the bath. She told me to pick her things up, put them into the laundry basket and get out, which I did.

I came back in a few minutes later and she looked round angrily and said, "Listen...... in future I think you'd better knock before you come in when I'm bathing. Now you're here though, would you like to wash me?"

I picked up the sponge but she said, "I asked whether you'd LIKE to wash me. If you do then ask me politely."

I did, and she replied, "Say PLEASE then." I did say please and she nodded,..but added... "Say THANK YOU then!" Of course I did and she still had enough energy left to enjoy her body being the object of such desire. She got out of the water and stood there as I dried her, and I followed her into the bedroom.

We got into bed and I moved toward her but she gently pushed me away and stroked my face quite lovingly.

"I'm too tired and I'm still very sore from Paul", (yes it WAS that little bastard then), "but you can wank off if you like." She made it sound like a very generous compromise on her part.

To round this off, I'm afraid I did what she'd suggested as she turned over on the pillow and drew the duvet over. As an afterthought she said she needed to sleep in after tonight and that I could call in sick to get the kids off to school, and maybe do some laundry but NOT to wake her up hoovering.

She got up at lunchtime and carried on as if nothing had happened! If anything she was more like her old self, generally happy and apparently enjoying being with me. She put her arms round me, kissed me and said, "I really DO love you, you know".

Over the next few weeks we got on better than we'd done for a long time and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Our sex life was fantastic as far as I was concerned, and the tension which had crept into our marriage seemed to have disappeared.

As was inevitable,we talked about her affair and she was honest about it, reassuring me that although she was happy in most ways, but explained as gently as possible that I had never satisfied her sexually, and that was why she'd had to go outside for that part of her life.

This wasn't in one conversation, it was over a few weeks. We talked a lot and she opened up more as it went on. She told me everything without hesitation but when we got onto the question of penis size she became quite flushed and couldn't look at me at first. Then she took a deep breath and said, "This won't work unless I'm honest will it? I don't want to hurt you -I never wanted to hurt you, but to be truthful yes, that IS a factor to me. It's nice, but it's quite small really... I mean compared to other men's......"

"Compared to Paul's you mean!!!"

Her face was red and for the first time she darted me an angry look,

"Compared to ALL of them actually!"

BANG ......another body blow and in a microsecond I re processed the many examples of suspicious behaviour and clues that I'd chosen to ignore in the past.

This initiated a new tribunal of shocking disclosures, accusation, disgrace and eventual repentance by her.

So numerous and shocking were her revelations of past conduct during this conversation that,whilst they cannot pass without being chronicled, they cannot be included here because they are too numerous. Therefore, I shall set them out in a future addendum to this instalment and submit it separately.

We talked late into the night and discussed the idea of a divorce over the next few days. I must say it was hurtful that she wasn't as worried about that prospect as me, despite admitting that she'd been the 'wrongdoer' in the marriage, right from the outset. Really she acted as if she'd be doing me a big favour by staying with me and this had the desired effect of making me more or less beg her to stay. She used my sense of responsibility to others and my loyalty against me, which she can do because she possesses neither of those things.

Eventually she said, "In future, I'll just go out sometimes and when I do, just don't ask where I'm going."

This was a decision she'd made on behalf of both of us, and it was very clear that no further discussion about it would be entertained.

...And so it was then. The old marriage was over and this would be an entirely new one, with new rules and a new hierarchy. It was destined to last longer than the first and bring great rewards as well as great pain.

The new order took effect from that moment and in due course I shall tell you the remarkable things which followed......