After a recent foursome involving my wife, one of the guys asked me how long we've been in an open marriage. I lied and said maybe 15 years. The reality is I knew exactly when it started. I also know it's far from open in that I don't cheat or sleep with others. I've been made into a cuckold. I can't prove it any other way than to just say this is a true story...all of it. This was our first time for all of this. I dreamt it up, positioned my wife for it, and watched as she transitioned from loving hot wife to cuckolding slut. Every element is true but no names and I imagine it'd be hard to pinpoint us from what I'm saying. It's taken a long time to get the guts to write this. I guess there's nothing "new" here in that there are millions of cuckold stories out there. But this is how it happened to me.
First I'll describe my wife. She's attractive in that very cute sort of way more than she is model perfect. She looks sort of like Katherine Heigl but different body type. My wife is 5 foot 5 inches, around 150 pounds (give or take a few at any given moment...), brunette, hazel eyes, C-cup breasts. She's in good shape so she curvy more than looking overweight anywhere.
When we were both 31...so early summer 2006, on a whim I bought her what I thought was a blue sweatshirt material micro skirt that was maybe ten inches or eleven inches, and she is size 10 normally or size 8 in a stretch...the skirt was sized Medium. I occasionally bought this sort of clothes knowing she'd only wear them in the bedroom. When my wife looked at it she laughed.
"Honey, you bought a tube top, not a skirt." She said.
"What?!?! No I didn't." I replied, almost defensive because of her implying she couldn't or wouldn't try it.
"Babe, yes, you did," she said emphatically, "It has elastic at the top and bottom. It's supposed to go around your breasts."
"I know what a tube top is." I said dejected.
She left the top on the bed and we went about our evening. I couldn't get the thought of that skirt out of my head, so I decided I'd cut the elastic off of the bottom so it would hang like a skirt. I measured it after cutting it, now it was 10 inches long with a frayed bottom! I went back to my wife the next evening with the skirt I created and she laughed again.
"Oh my God, you are determined!" she said, not taking me seriously at first. I let the conversation drop but kept the skirt.
Nothing happened until a month later when she backed into a telephone pole. She Hit the accelerator too hard backing out of a space and rammed the trunk of her car squarely into the pole. Some damage, all her fault. The cost of the repair was just over the deductible so I said we should avoid claiming it since our record was good and there were no accidents against our insurance. She agreed. The issue, though, was we didn't have a lot of ready cash around at the time. One of the few "nest eggs" we had was a savings account I was using to save up for a bigger TV. In 2006, TVs weren't as cheap as they are now.
"Can we use your TV money?" my wife asked shyly, knowing it would be a sensitive subject.
"Oh crap," I said, "here we go. I'm so close to that TV and now we're going to start all over."
My wife laughed and said, "Think of it this way...I'll owe you one so when you need a big favor I'll have to give it to you."
Another few weeks into the future and we were in the height of summer. I was in a particularly bad mood on a Friday night from something that happened at work and my wife and I were talking.
"Babe, what can I do to cheer you up?" she asked. She rubbed my thigh hinting that what she could do for me would be something sexual. I laid my head back feeling miserable and somehow thought about the skirt as what she could do for me at the moment. Just as I was about to recommend she put it on, I thought about how much I'd love to see her wear it in public. I knew in my mind there was no chance but then I remembered the favor she owed me.
"I know what I really want from you, but I doubt you'll do it. So what's the point?" I rambled.
She looked at me, "Tell me. As miserable as this week has been for you, maybe I'll go along with it."
I perked up in my seat and explained, "You know that tube top I cut into a little skirt? How about you wear that to do some antique shopping?" In our 20s and 30s we did a lot of antique shopping. It was more of a thing than it is lately.
"Honey, that's not a skirt, that's a loincloth." She said, "I love you but my big butt would be on display."
"I know," I replied, sort of pouting, "that's the point. We can go anywhere, maybe someplace we don't normally go, and you can be a little sexy for one day." That wasn't entirely fair as she wore short skirts all the time for me, but even compared to a short denim mini skirt, my created skirt was more of a micro skirt for a stripper stage.
She finally said, "You'll have to think of something else." She giggled and we went to bed.
The next morning, Saturday, my wife woke before me. When I woke up, the first thing standing in front of me was my wife in the micro mini skirt. Her butt looked amazing and hard to contain in that skirt. In fact a little but cheek showed as she stood. She wore a tight baby-doll style white t-shirt. She made a point of flashing me. Underneath was a tiny, really tiny white thong to match her white bra. She had on platform flip flops to finish it off.
We lived outside of Philly and we drove up to the Lewisburg area where Bucknell is. There's a large antique mall there named Roller Mills with the very large main building which is sort of a labyrinth of twists and turns being an old mill and the secondary a long low building. At least I think the second store is connected to the mill...the second building was a rough dump of old antiques, so I'm not sure what became of it today. Anyhow, a few people had told us about it and I reasoned it was far enough out of our normal "zone" that it would be a good place. After a little pleading and reminding her of the favor she owed, my wife reluctantly agreed.
I owned a Grand Cherokee at the time and she couldn't get in without the skirt bunching up at her waist and she couldn't sit without exposing herself unless she put her hands over her lap. The drive to Lewisburg alone was awesome and fingering her as we drove was easy.
Before going into the antique mall, we talked in the car ride about what I wanted to do and "negotiated" the rules. She would make sure to bend over in front of guys when she could or flash them somehow. She would be sure to "brush by or squeeze by" guys. I would occasionally finger her in the store. My goal, which she thought would never happen, is that she would attract someone to feel her up either just by flashing herself or me inviting them to touch her. Prior to shopping I thought the "touching" part would be some guy running the palm side of his hand over her ass.
Her rules were easy. She'd brush up against a few guys and try to flash a few. I could finger her but had to be careful no one would see. If she was too uncomfortable she would let me know and we'd stop what we were doing.
We entered the mall and the woman at the front desk immediately gave my wife the once-over and said "Looks like you're on a fun shopping trip."
I laughed and agreed, my wife was shy and smiled and nodded. I walked with her rubbing her ass slightly then stood back from her to see the view. Even standing straight, she was showing a lot, the tops of her thighs and just a hint of where her ass began was visible and from the front the hem was fighting to stay lower than her crotch. The skirt was low on her hips to even cover that much, so a little of her thong's waistband showed above the skirt...it sort of fit the times. If she bent at all to look at anything, you'd get a little flash of her white thong struggling to cover her pussy. She's trimmed, same as at that time, so if you could see long enough, her brown pubes made a dark spot in the crotch of the thong and a few hairs escaped out the sides. All of this I took in during the first room!
We worked our way through the main floor first and then when from bottom to top. There were people all over the place, but not over-crowded since the mill is so big. At the time, and I guess even now sometimes, you'd find couples, women by themselves and men by themselves, and even families used to spend hours at antique stores - more so (more popular) than now. The main floor included several rooms, one of which was a large room of showcases. As we walked the showcases, I slowly separated from her. Not completely out of sight of her, but not next to her. Eventually I probably looked more like a stalker than a husband.
As she looked through the cabinets, another guy, shopping with his wife, caught a glimpse of my wife and then made it his mission to be in the same aisle as my wife whenever possible. My wife did a lot of bending at the waist to flash her ass at him from behind as well as squatted at the knees to let him look up the front of her skirt. A couple of times they'd be close enough that she'd work in a "bump-in" by either squeezing past him or him walking past her as she bent over to look at something. The fist bump was actually her squeezing past and making sure her ass rubbed across his crotch...not stripper-rub, just a casual squeeze through where of course he was standing middle-ish of the aisle and made no attempt to move to a side. For the next several minutes they'd bump each other one way or another. Then he started 'squeezing past" but had one hand out sort of to the side...the positioning was so that the hand he had out would catch her ass as she went by but would be an innocent bump. Sure enough, he started rubbing over her ass every so often, even firmly pushing his hand on her butt a few times.
Each time she would smile or giggle and say sorry or he would say sorry and the other would said "no problem" or "it's okay".
This game of feel-up last at least three aisles before the guy's wife noticed he was distracted by my wife and drew him away to another room. So far as I was concerned, mission was accomplished and I already felt like it was a successful outing that'd make us plenty horny.
At the end of the large room was a staircase up to a couple of small rooms of antiques. We neared the staircase at about the same time. Fortunately I was still hanging back enough because I realized another guy trailing her and peeking at her whenever he could. He was alone...no spouse or girlfriend.
As she neared the steps she even called over to me, "Are you ready to go upstairs?"
I replied, "Yup, just about..." but kept looking at what I was looking at.
The timing was perfect...my wife started up the steps and the guy essentially followed her closely and I was several steps behind before going up the steps. I had not thought of the next thing though... As they went up the steps he pulled a small digital camera (before smart phones and hi def cameras on phones) out of his jeans pocket and started recording my wife walk up the steps! It was all ass crack and a little strip of white thong over her pussy and he got it all on video. I never even told my wife this part...luckily, because she may have wanted to leave right there.
They got to the top of the steps and there was a small table of antiques at the top landing. She stopped to look at the table and bent ever so slightly. He filmed as long as he thought she couldn't see then put the camera back in his pocket. But as he got to the landing with her, he pretended to bump into her...and he took one hand and I guess you would say he goosed her. She even let out a little gasp of astonishment as he cupped his hand and drove his fingers firmly against her pussy from behind. He apologized profusely as he bumped her, but also pretended to stumble and used it as an opportunity to push forward slightly as he did. She told me after he was far enough away from us that he actually pushed right against her flesh with that move and had firmly pressed into her asshole with what she thought was his thumb as her cheeks spread a little. He continued to apologize and after a few seconds of groping he removed his hand and moved on. He probably didn't think it could go any farther and at that point I don't think we thought of any more, either. He probably was also afraid she'd freakout. Eventually, as he walked around, he snuck the camera back out and I think, or would like to think, he got face shots of my wife.
