Cuckolded, Again! A Personal Exploration into Submission and Humiliation
My wife always has this way of making me feel totally inept and worthless when she wants to. I always ask her to give me a little time. I ask her to let me prepare a little. I try to tell her how difficult it is to go from typical working class schmuck to a whimpering, cuckold pansy at the drop of a hat. It isn't easy, and maybe that's what makes the humiliation all that much more poignant. Maybe, that's what gets her off.
She did just that last night. She'd been out visiting one of her lovers—a big, black guy named Louis. I was at home having a beer and watching the ball game. It was a good game, too. LSU was getting all they could handle from Arizona State.
That's when I heard the front door open.
Right near the end of the fourth quarter, LSU was driving for the game winning score. "Shit," I hissed to no one in particular. My wife, Ann, was home, and she was going to want to talk about everything that happened to her that day. Normally, I would've been interested in hearing how her encounter went, but not at the end of a good ball game. I took another swig of my beer to help prepare myself for some serious frustration.
That's when I heard her soft, gentle laugh rise over the deep resinous voice of another man.
"Now what?" I growled to that same no one.
Ann's soft footfalls fell onto the hardwood floor of the living room. Heavier foot falls fell close behind as they came closer to the den, and my Saturday evening football game. They crossed through the threshold into the den hand in hand. I recognized Louis from Ann's pictures and videos. He stood close behind her, towering over her petite frame like a giant.
They caught me completely off guard. I stood and offered my hand. "Hi," I said half-politely, "I'm Jim."
Even if he wanted to, Ann never gave Louis the opportunity to shake my hand. She spun me around, nudging me toward the kitchen. "Go get a couple more of those beers, and bring them upstairs," she ordered matter-of-factly.
I reluctantly did as I was told. Knowing protest would accomplish nothing other than pissing me off even more, and the frustration of missing the end of my game left me a bit compliant. It was either that or start up a ruckus we would all regret. Besides, I had agreed to the terms of this relationship and therefore bound to uphold those terms.
Ann turned back to Louis. Her hands slid around his waist. He pulled her in tight. His hands cupped her tight, little ass cheeks. They kissed deeply before leaving the room. I heard Ann's voice rise slightly as they walked out. "What are you waiting for? Get the beers, now."
I didn't even think she noticed me standing in the other doorway watching them kiss.
I heard Louis ask, "You always talk to him that way?"
"How else do you talk to a worthless …," her voice faded as they reached the stairway. I could only hear the sound of Louis' baritone laugh.
I reached into the fridge, grabbed three beers, and hesitantly headed upstairs. I took my time. I've never had much of a problem submitting to my wife, but to have another man witness or even take part in my humiliation was hard to stomach. Facing ridicule and scorn is tough, enough. Then, the thinking starts. You think about everything. Is this going to get out? Are your friends or her friends going to find out? And, the big question--Is your wife going to dump you for a superior male? After all, what kind of man would let another man make love to his wife, in his own home and in his own bed?
I answered those questions on my way upstairs. A submissive cuckold has no right to ask. His sole purpose is to serve his wife, and her lover if that was her desire. I resigned myself to what was to come. I had no choice.
The door to our bedroom was open. I walked in. Louis had Ann's cheeks in his hands holding her face gently. He kissed her passionately. Their mouths worked as their tongues explored and entwined. Louis' shirt was open and his shoes were already off.
Louis began to kiss my wife around her ears and neck giving her the opportunity to glance over at me standing near the doorway holding the beers. "Put that stuff down, and sit over there." She pointed to the big dressing chair next to the dresser. "I want you to watch how a real man pleases a woman. Oh, and take your shorts off, bitch. I wanna see how your pathetic little dick looks compared to a real man's cock." She looked back into her lover's eyes. Their lips came together, again.
My skin turned deep red. Louis and Ann didn't seem to notice me. Dejected, I walked past them and put two of the beers on the nightstand. I dropped my shorts and took my place in the chair.
Ann's hands roved over his broad chest and down across his flat stomach. Her hands looked extraordinarily tiny and fair in contrast to his massive size and his deep brown skin. She stroked his sides while they continued to kiss romantically. He ran his fingers through her short auburn hair. Her hands drew back to settle on the clasp of Louis' slacks.
Deftly, Ann's tiny, white fingers worked their magic on Louis' pants' clasp. Then, they drew down the zipper in one smooth, experienced motion. Those delicate hands slid inside the waistband and around the big man's lower back. Soft lips brushed down the man's chin, neck and chest. Little hands pushed the trousers halfway down dark, muscular hips.
The big man continued to run his huge hands through my wife's hair as she kissed slowly down to his navel. Soon, her lips brushed affectionately below her lover's waistline to the top of his manhood as it strained at the fabric of the falling slacks. She pushed the fabric of the pants down a little further causing Louis' big dick to spring out like a lewd Jack-in-the-box. The pants fell to the floor.
I've seen Louis naked before. Ann had taken several videos and pictures of the two together. Up until now, those pictures and videos had been the closest I had come to sharing in her sexual adventures since we had been a typical couple in the swinger's lifestyle. Seeing her and her lover in real life was even more awe inspiring than in the digital format. Somehow, in real life the true nature of the situation is far more meaningful. Fantasy becomes reality. Feelings become undeniably poignant and we're forced to face those feelings head on. It's like being run over by an emotional truck. Conflicting emotions compete for control. We're caught between those ideas of pride, dignity and manhood that we're taught since the cradle and a new found compulsion to please and to serve unconditionally.
I struggled to submit to my lesser desires. Giving up control is never easy.
My wife knelt before this ebony giant as he stepped out of his slacks. She took his thick cock up with her right hand to get access to his big, dark balls. His scrotum stretched and contracted as Ann sucked and nibbled the loose skin. Her delicate fingers curled only half of the way around her stud's thick tool. Her entire hand covered only one third of its length. The dark foreskin slid over then off the bulbous, deep purple head with each of Ann's leisurely strokes. A drop of precum glistened from the tip.
Enraptured, my beautiful wife licked upward, tickling the bottom of his manhood with the tip of her tongue. Her teasing caused Louis' cock to twitch urgently. At last, she reached the end of her man's knob. Pursing her lips, she kissed the tip, taking the precum into her mouth. Then, with her tongue she stabbed at the slit while she pumped the shaft forcing out every drop of the thick, clear liquid.
Finally, Ann looked up into the eyes of her lover, smiled enticingly and took his enormous cock into her mouth. That fat, dark man meat filled her mouth. She drove her head forward, allowing nearly half of its length to press into her throat. Her right hand continued to slowly stroke at the base of the shaft. Her left hand squeezed and caressed his firm butt cheeks. She pulled his ass forward, burying as much of Louis' huge cock in her mouth as she could. Then, her head would bob back up, allowing her to take in another breath through her nose before diving back down for more.
Louis shook his shirt from his broad shoulders. Muscles rippled in his arms and chest. His skin shimmered darkly. His hands held firmly but not forcefully to Ann's head, guiding it up and down his big cock.
Sometimes, whether welcomed or not, things take an unexpected turn. I was caught completely off guard when Louis looked up from Ann's ministrations. His eyes locked on to me. A wave of shame washed over me. I froze and stared straight ahead at Ann laboring on his giant cock, unable to look Louis directly in the eye.
"Damn," Louis commented, "That punk is really getting off watching you suck my dick." He sounded genuinely surprised.
