Cucquean Chronicles 01 - Origins

There are times when you're doing something that would have been unimaginable at an earlier stage in your life, and a crystalizing moment begs the question -- how the hell did I get here?

I'm having one of those moments right now. I'm a 35 year old woman, with a good job, a ton of self-esteem, a loving husband, and a life going just the way I want it to. And yet at this very moment, I have a plug in my ass, my pussy is throbbing and, I haven't checked, but probably making a literal puddle on the floor. I haven't cum in... I don't even know how long, and I'm moving in to lick the little pink ass hole of a twenty-year-old girl. Who is bouncing on my husband's cock. Because she ordered me to.

And I can't believe how lucky I am.

---

It all started maybe six years ago, but before we get to that -- I have to tell you a little bit about myself and George. My husband George and I met in college in various groups on the fringes of left-wing politics. We were both dating other people at the time, but the attraction was powerful, and the length of time between us getting out of our relationships and with each other was indecently fast. Even then we were clearly very bad at monogamy.

I'm bi, but in college I had drifted into lesbian spaces, and didn't really hook up with men. Women were just more exciting. When my girlfriend dumped me, however, it was really easy to fall into bed with George. He was exactly my type -- 6'1" with a dark beard, and piercing blue eyes, George was a rugby player, and a small layer of chub over a whole lot of muscle. I'm 5'8" and had always leaned towards the curvy side, though when I look back at pictures of myself in college I have to admit I was a slamming hotty -- D cup breasts, an ample ass, wide hips... a look that's much more in style now than it was then. When I was with women I was very toppy, loving to get them off, but when I was with men I loved when they could make me feel small and delicate. And George did that -- he could really throw me around.

He was also kind, charming in groups, and I later found out... very good in bed. His dick is an average length but girthy with quite with a nice upward curve, but more than that -- he knew how to use everything else to get women off. His high school girlfriend had been an "everything but..." kind of virgin, so George could just tease your nipples until you were ready to break something in half to get more of him, or finger you into oblivion, or find a way to lock his lips around your clit providing just enough suction to keep it this side of too much, while his tongue would lap it and juices would run down his face.

Our first night he did all those things to me, leaving me a puddle of a human being. I told him, honestly, he fucks better than most lesbians I know, and said he'd earned "50 points," which became a running joke for excellent sex in our relationship. It was only then I realized he hadn't actually stuck his dick in me at any point, and invited him to use me to get himself off -- when he climbed on top of my exhausted body, adjusted my hips up into the air, and found this position that let the head of his cock drive against my g-spot, earning the title of first man to ever make me cum through penile intercourse, and, I told him, another 50 points.

---

My cake -- I think this one's name is Abby, though it's hard to keep track - lets out a guttural moan as I started tonguing her ass. George slows her down, rocking her, so that her ass is easy to lick. I don't even like giving rim jobs, but in this moment it feels like the sexiest thing in the world.

"Please..." I moan, each word punctuated by a lick to my cake's ass hole, "I need --" lick... "to touch -- " lick...

George's tone is gentle. "Soon love, you're doing so good. Let's get Abby off one more time, then maybe it'll be your turn."

With that he flips her over, onto her hands and knees, then grips her breasts and pulls her up so that her back his against his front. His hand slides down her bare pussy, and between her legs. His hand slides up from her breasts to close around her neck. Gentle at first, but when it's clear how much she likes it, he squeezes tighter. Her face starts to flush. I sink to my knees, squeezing them together, rocking, doing anything to give my aching cunt some sensation and some relief. I love seeing him like this. Seeing how he can transport another woman to throws of ecstasy they haven't experienced before. I saw the eyes roll back in her head, as her body convulsed, an orgasm ripping through her, rendering her putty in his hands.

Poor girl, this might be the best sex she ever has. I hope not. It would be tragic to peak at 20.

Seeing her pleasure drives me even wilder. Humping the air, pushing the plug in my ass against the mattress, grinding my wet cunt into anything I can.

---

I think it was seeing the other woman's pleasure that really pushed me into being a cuckquean. As I'd said, George and I were never really good at monogamy, and we didn't even really try. Both of us would go on occasional dates or hook-ups, but all I really wanted to know about them was that he had enjoyed a good time. I didn't get too turned on.

In our late twenties a friend of mine from high school was coming to visit -- we were going to go camping at a music festival together. Erin had always had an interesting relationship with sex. She was never the prettiest, though extremely fit. She was that girl that would give her guy friends blowjobs because she didn't see what the big deal was, and it was a nice favor for them. We had fallen a bit out of touch and re-connected. Erin and I had hooked up, once, back when I visited her in college, and I had very fond memories of that event. Part of me had wondered if she might actually be fully gay, but just continuing with men because they were available and her very uptight family wouldn't accept her as a lesbian.

She arrived the day before we were set to leave for the music festival, and we instantly fell into our old ways. Drinks were flowing, and we got to talking about relationships.

"Was he good in bed, at least?" I asked about the most recent childish asshole she had broken up with a few months ago.

"Eh," she said, "no worse than usual."

"C'mon, you have to be more specific than that. Big dick? Small dick? Good with his mouth? What percentage of times did you cum?"

"Average dick. Barely used his mouth. He was obsessed with anal play, and most time we fucked one or the other of us had a vibrator in our ass, which really didn't do it for me. And zero percent, you know that!"

I did know that -- but I had forgotten! Erin had never cum. Not once in her life. I had assumed that in the intervening years someone would have finally pushed her over the edge, or she would have finally found the right electric toothbrush -- but apparently no.

"Wanna try with George? He's pretty fucking good. He might be able to do the deed." I was very casual but completely serious. Like I said, we saw other people, and he could really do Erin a solid.

"Haha, maybe," Erin said, and I could tell she wasn't taking it that seriously. "Geoooooorrrrge," she called, summoning my husband, who had stayed sober and was dutifully packing all of our camping gear for the next day. "Geooorgeyyyy booyyyy!"

"Yes?" he inquired, the tone of the sober one having to deal with the drunk bitches, as his head appeared around the corner.

"George," Erin asked, stumbling a bit as she got to her feet. "George, do you think, do you think you could give a woman -- in her late twenties -- who had never cum, not even with a vibe -- do you think you could give that woman her first orgasm?"

"Maybe," he said, simply. "I mean, I have before." Not a brag, just a statement. It brought Erin short, and there was a silence. "Anything else I can do for you ladies?" Seeing our blank faces and silence as the only response, he turned and left the room.

"He's shitting us," Erin finally insisted. "Just toying with the drunk girls."

"I don't think so -- actually, it's coming back to me. Last year. There was this woman who said she had never cum. They met on Tinder, and he thought it was just a line, a way to get people to bring their "A" game. He told me about it though, because it started getting weird. She cried afterwards, and then got really clingy, not really respecting any of our boundaries. That's why he filled me in on the details."

Our talk got more serious, and it was clear Erin was considering it. I told her it was fine by me -- at this point I wasn't turned on at all, just checking in on feelings. Re-assuring her it was okay, we played around all the time with other people. Wouldn't be a big deal. When I climbed into bed with George, I filled him in on the conversation. Asked if he was interested. He made a joke about it being an act of charity, but I could see he was excited by the prospect. I told him not to push for it -- Erin would initiate if it was something she wanted.

---

Abby collapses to the bed as George's hot seed spills from her pussy. God, the sight of my husband inseminating a girl almost half our age... it turns me on in ways I hadn't thought possible. Knowing my job, I crawl up on me knees, spread her legs, and start lapping my husband's cum from this tight younger pussy. God the mix of their juices tastes so good. She is so fucking hot, with her tight young body... even hotter than I was a this age. I would have wanted to finger her and suck her clit even if George had nothing to do with it.

I am so focused on the delicious pussy in front of me, I lose track of what George is doing. Until I feel him kneeling behind me, wrapping his burly arms around me. I keep licking, not wanting to lose focus. He kisses the back of my neck, shooting electric impulses down my spine. His hands grab my hips -- fuller and jigglier than this per young thing in front of us, but he still seems to love them. He reaches around, and oh god. Oh god. He's going to touch me. We agreed I was only allowed anal play so long ago, thus the plug in my ass. But his hands wander down, through my bush, and slowly trace my outer labia. They feel more sensitive than I could imagine that part of my body being, but I want, I need him to do more.

His lips brush against my ear as he growls: "did you like seeing me fill up this tight young pussy?"

"Yesssssss..." I moan, not moving my mouth from the wet slit.

"Do you want more denial? Or do you want this?" he asks, his finally slipping from the outer lips to the inner, then tracing the lightest touch in a circle around my hood.

"That, please, I need that..." at this point I can't focus on licking any more, I just press my face into the mons of the woman my husband just got done filling with cum, and I feel her stroke my hair.

"I'm such a lucky man," he whispers giving me a light bight on the ear, his finger continuing to slowly trace my clit, not quite pressing it, just the lightest touch still almost more than I can bear. "I love you so much...."

---

The first day of the music festival nothing much was going on. Mostly it was getting the tents set up. We were outgoing and made friends with another group on one side of us who had gotten a bonfire going. Once everything started up, the drinking began. Early on, before she had even finished her first beer, Erin came up to me. "You sure?" was all she asked.

"Of course. Have fun."

I saw her walk over to George at that point. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but George filled me in later. She told him two three things. One: she was completely sober right now, only half way through a beer, two: she didn't plan on staying sober, and wanted to get pretty wasted as the day go on, really blow off some steam, and three: she wanted to see if he could make her cum later tonight, and didn't want her being drunk to get in the way of that.

He smiled, said something in reply, and they came back and re-joined the group. As the day bled into the night, we were all getting a little bit more tipsy. George was paying attention to Erin, and they were clearly flirting. People started giving me quizzical looks, knowing that George and I were together, but here he clearly was, draped all over my friend. I should have been annoyed. Or jealous. But I wasn't... I was incredibly turned on. Eventually another person in this group of strangers came up to me, when Erin and George had gone on their own to a little set of logs a few paces away from everyone else.

"You okay?" he asked me, my gaze fixed on the two of them. "Is there anything... anything I can do?"

My eyes were fixed on them and it took me a little bit to respond. I saw George whisper something into Erin's ear, and she laughed, the firelight bathing her face in flickering light. As she laughed she turned, I thought to reply, but instead cocked her head, so close to his mouth. He leaned in. She leaned up to him. Their lips met. His hands found her hips. They squeezed. The two of them broke the kiss, but kept their foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah..." I said, shaking my head to clear it, and looking back at this kindly, concerned stranger. "Sorry, yes! We have a little arrangement for the weekend," I said, dashing him a smile. "My friend needs this."

---

How does he do this to me? I haven't cum in days... weeks? And I'm so desperate, and yet he can touch me like this, keeping me teetering on the edge. When my clit is about to bring me there, he slides a finger into me, slowly working, then brings both his hands up to trace circles around my engorged nipples. My breath is ragged and my whole world has shrunk to the sensation of his touch. His hand his back on my clit, and surely, surely this time, this is the time he'll finally let me...

---

The party went on late that night, but our group was a bit older than the rest. We decided to head out early. We had a little chat and decided the sleeping arrangements: I would be in the small one person tent Erin brought tonight, and she would share our tent with George.

I found sleep difficult. My mind kept racing, thinking of what they were doing. That I had fucked both of them meant I could viscerally imagine what they would be up to. I was building up nervous energy, and decided to get up and go for a little walk around the grounds. As I passed their tent, I heard slight, little gasps from Erin. George was going slow with her. I paused and listened. He was checking in, letting her guide him, but being assertive. At one point I heard him tell her he would get back to her breasts, but needed to spend more time tasting her pussy first.

That was too much. I could feel the warmth and wetness in my groin. Why was this happening? My explanation was that I was just horny -- two people I found attractive -- and had fucked! Were fucking, and I wasn't a part of it. And wanted some for myself.

I took about a half hour doing a little round of the campground. When I got back, I saw one of our neighbors had lit the headlights of their obnoxious pickup truck. There was a small clump of people around our tents, so I couldn't quite see what was going on, until I moved beside one of them.

The lights had cast through the thin material of the tent, and you could see Erin and George's shadows, intertwined. George was on his knees, and Alena was on his lap, their torsos making a V. I could even see her hair as she threw her head back, and let out a loud moan. They were making no effort to be quiet. The man I was standing next to looked at me, and I recognized him as one of the people we had met earlier. One of the people who knew George was my husband. That I was, I guess, a cuck.

"C'mon guys," I said, shooing them away, "be better than this." The little clump of people returned to their tents at my shaming. I climbed back into my tent. But I left the flap open, still seeing their silhouettes move and intertwine with each other. He had her on her back and was fingering her now. I pulled my pants down, and stuck my head into the sopping mess that was my underwear. I found my clit, and started circling it. Watching my man pleasure my friend. Watching her take something that I thought of as mine. The headlights went off, and I couldn't see them anymore, I was blinded by the lack of dazzling light. So I laid back and listened. Listened to the wet sounds they made together, the moans, the groans.

I laid on my back, my legs outstretched. The muscles in my back and legs clenched. My thighs clamped around my hand as my other hand brought my breast out, just squeezing it, without any real coordination. Erin had started moaning George's name. My husband's name. Her breathing was getting ragged. My breathing was matching. The waves started building in me, and I came. My body contorted into a ball as the waves of pleasure shook through me, my hand clamped over my mouth so I didn't make a sound.

---

My eyes are slammed shut, and my body is getting too sensitive. Every touch is torture and release at the same time.

"Claire," a sweet little voice prompts, and I open my eyes, to see the twenty year old Abby sitting in front of me, gently scooping my husband's semen from her pink and swollen slit. "Do you want a taste?" she asks, brining two fingers covered in their combined juices to my lips. I stretched my neck, took them into my mouth, tasting George's cum as I hear George's voice gently in my ear.

"Cum, my darling, cum sucking on my and Abby's juices"

I obeyed.

---

By the time the world returned to me, there weren't any other sounds coming from George and Erin's tent. Then I heard something else: some soft sobbing. I jumped up, and got to the door of the tent. Opening the flap, I told them I was coming in.

When I walked in I saw Erin, completely naked, cradled in George's arms, tears running down her face.

"What happened?" I asked, fully of concern.

"She was getting close, and then --" George murmured, voice full of care.

"It was just too much. Too overwhelming. It got scary, the way my body was feeling" Erin stammered between gentle sobs. "I felt so out of control. I've never been that close before, and, I didn't know. I didn't know I'd feel..."

"There there," I comforted her, taking her by the hand and pulling her to me in a tight hug. With my eyes I motioned to George he was relieved, and I could take care of her. I'd been her friend of a decade, and he'd first met her two days ago.

I asked if George had done anything wrong, and Erin insisted he hadn't. "He was so sweet. And everything felt so good. And we were just slowly, slowly building to it, but I got to this point, and I got overwhelmed, and I couldn't... and he stopped immediately, and just started taking care of me."

So there I was. Spending the night with Erin. Comforting her over the fact that my husband had given her *too much pleasure* while trying for her first orgasm. Stroking her hair, with fingers, I realized at one point, were still covered in my own grool from pleasuring myself while listening to them.

And, as she told me how good what he did had been for her... I felt the desire start to rise in me.

---

So I guess that's what's gotten me into this position, I reflect, numb with relief and pleasure as I watch my husband's young side piece pull her thong back on and kiss him goodbye. That was what got me down the path of being a cuckquean.