It was a week to the day since I had confessed my secret fetish to be cuckolded to my wife, Becky. After a long and deep conversation, and much to my surprise, Becky called her African American co worker, Duncan, practically right away and invited him over to come fuck her brains out.
Duncan exceeded in fucking Becky's brains out and now she was as much of a cheating hotwife as I was a pathetic little cuckold.
It was crazy how much everything could change in just one week. My wife's fidelity, our marriage, our wedding vows and our entire life, all had been shattered and were being rebuilt in the name of cuckolding.
Only one week since my wife had slept with another man for the first time and Becky and I were already having withdrawals from our new lifestyle. Honestly, I didn't know which one of us was more eager for Becky to get out there and a bull that could just fuck the absolute shit out of her in a way that I simply never could, no matter how hard I tried.
We had spent the entire week since Duncan fucked my wife (or since the day after, as Becky needed a long, long, long recovery sleep after such a pounding) planning our next cuckold adventure.
Becky had come up with the idea to go clubbing.
"I've never had a one night stand or anything." She had said, from her side of the bed. "Never had a man hit on me while out or anything. I want to do that. Find someone, be such a slut with them on the dancefloor that we're practically fucking there and them let them take me back to their place to ravish!"
I got hard just hearing Becky speak like that, to know that she would actually do it, and soon, well, that me got me almost as turned on as Duncan cumming inside of her had.
I flipped onto my side, grabbed Becky and pulled her lips against mine. I wanted to be assertive and dominant and irresistibly sexy, nothing at all like the timid and insecure lover I usually was, but Becky wasn't interested.
"Stop." She pushed me away, frowning and shaking her head as if she had just eaten something that was rotten. "I'm turned on too, but I want to save it for the weekend, or the mysterious and alpha man who is going to turn me into a dirty little slut for one night."
Becky turned onto her side, pressed her elbow into the bed and pushed her head up. "I don't want to do anything until then. I want to be so turned on and hot and desperate and thirsty that I just can't control myself and go crazy for him!"
Becky sighed and moved onto her back, staring up at the roof, imagining a man who was better than me in pretty much every way...
***
"So," Becky said as she walked out of the ensuite. "How do I look, baby?"
Becky looked so fucking good that I actually stuttered when I tired to answer. "In... I... Incredible. Shit, Becky! I've never seen you look so God damn sexy!"
It was one hundred percent true too. Becky wore a pair of high heels that looped around her calves like gladiator boots. And then there was nothing until the bottom of her arse, which ended where Becky's arse did (so fucking short!). There were no sides on the dress either, just a front and back that was tied together by a zig-zagging string, so you could see my wife's skin from the hips all the way up, sideboob and all. I was mesmerized and already jealous of what man would get to take her home tonight. I wouldn't even have had the courage to approach a woman as sexy as my wife looked in the outfit, no matter how drunk I got. Any man who did would have to have the confidence of a Roman senator.
Becky smiled at my compliment although I could tell she already knew how good she looked.
"Come on," Becky said and moved toward the hallway, "let's go clubbing and cucking."
***
The club was packed. I immediately felt insecure and uncomfortable. Every guy there was in better shape than me and every woman was way out of my league. Becky fit right in though.
"Wow. This place is amazing!" She said. "I forgot how much fun clubbing could be!"
Becky looked around like a native tribesmen in New York City. I leaned toward and spoke into her ear.
"Can you see anyone that takes your fancy?"
Becky giggled and cupped her face in her hand. "We just go here! I haven't even had a chance to look! Besides, like I told you, I've never done this and have no idea how to just go up and get picked up by a guy."
I nodded at a guy at the bar. He was the typical sort of clubber. He had his shirt unbuttoned so it showed his athletic chest. "Just go up and ask him to buy you a drink. He'll know what you want."
Becky frowned at the guy. I could tell the guy didn't take her fancy even though she just said: "That's desperate, baby. Let's just wait and enjoy ourselves and see what the night brings!"
Becky looked around for a free seat in the lounge and sat. But the moment her arse (so prominently presented in that tiny and skimpy dress) touched the couch, a man appeared at my side.
He stared down at my wife without acknowledging me at all. He was black, bald and big with a body like an athlete's. I knew that Becky was interested in him the moment she noticed him and looked up. Her eyes shot open and sparkled with lust.
"I couldn't help but notice you. There's just something about you." The black man who I knew was going to take my white wife home later said. "Then I noticed you had no drink and were about to sit down so came over to get you off that couch and onto the dancefloor with a shot and martini in each hand."
It wasn't a question. There was no ambivalence or argument. This man had presence, charisma and a dominance that I could barely even comprehend. He extended a hand to my wife and my wife willingly took it. I saw the man notice the wedding ring on Becky's hand and then ignore it as he pulled her up to her feet.
I turned to watch this mysterious and alpha black man lead my wife through the crowd. I didn't want to be left out of the festivities and followed. Or tried to follow. Where the club-goers had happily parted for my wife and her new friend, they made no such effort for me and I had to push my way through them like an insect in a spiderweb.
By the time I made it through, the man was ordering my wife her drinks. He had one elbow on the bar top and his other hand on my wife's back. How could a man be so smooth and so confident with a woman he just met? I would never know.
Three glasses appeared before them. Becky picked one up and emptied it in one gulp. Then they each sipped a glass each and chatted. Or the man chatted. Becky mainly just laughed and blushed. Once, as Becky was taking another sip of her drink, the man said something that Becky found so funny she couldn't help but burst out laughing mid sip and snorted her drink everywhere, even on her date.