A Cucold's Diary

May 11, 2010

A Cuckold's Diary

Chapter 31: GRATITUDE

Those of you who are cuckolds will understand this; others may not.

Over the years, I've tried to explain to my wife, Sally, that "I can handle it if you ignore me, as long as you TELL ME you're ignoring me." Or, in shorter form, "You can ignore me, but please don't IGNORE me."

Today, on Sally's date with her lover, Ted, she ignored me. But she didn't IGNORE me. And I am so grateful for what she shared – what THEY shared – that I feel no jealousy, no anger, no resentment. I feel like a cuckold – a very, very grateful cuckold.

If you read Chapter 30 of my Diary, you saw the letter Sally wrote to me after Ted came to our house for the first time. In that letter she said that she would give me a "mercy fuck" once a year on our anniversary, as long as I understood that I am not getting more than that, EVER. I read what she had written and it excited me, but at the time I did not realize how much she meant what she had said. Today I realized it. And accepted it. And was grateful.

I also spoke to Ted after he read the letter, and after he wrote a BEAUTIFUL response to my wife, assuring her that the best was yet to come for the two of them. I told him that I had asked Sally to help me by showing me what I have lost, and what I asked of him was to humiliate me. When he asked me to clarify what I meant, I said, "Just be a MAN. Make it clear that what my wife sees in you is the MAN she wants inside her. When you act like a man with her, and with me, you force me to think of myself as something else... as something less."

He said he could do that, and on today's date he proved true to his word, too.

We didn't have a lot of build-up to today's date, as we were both working very hard over the past week. In fact, last night she said she thought she was coming down with a cold, but when I offered to postpone the date she said, "No way. I'd cancel if it was for you, but it's for ME."

So, fortified with a few cups of coffee and some cold tablets, she came out to meet her lover when he arrived at our hotel room just after 9 am. She wore a negligee instead of a bra and panties, because she said it would give him better access to her tits... the tits which her letter told me were off limits to me from now on. She and Ted chatted for just a few minutes before he began to kiss her and feel her up. They each made a half-hearted attempt to keep a G-rated conversation going a little longer, but their effort was spectacularly unsuccessful. Soon, Ted was kneeling on top of her on the living room couch, and my wife was wrapping her legs around his still-dressed legs. They made out right in front of me like a couple of teenagers, and I watched in silence while she wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him toward her.

I watched my wife pull her negligee off one breast, and then the other. She offered her breasts to him right in front of me, knowing full well that she had just told me I was never to touch them again without her express permission. Ted, having read the letter too, dove to her nipples like a suckling baby. I saw him – and heard him – suck my wife's nipples until her whole body was responding to his mouth.

I usually spend moments like this moving around, trying to get a better view or to involve myself in some way in their sex. But somehow I knew today was different, and I accepted it without a word. I sat in my chair across the room from them, and I think I held my breath the whole time they made out. I remember studying them, looking for any sign of hesitation or ambivalence about what they were doing, and found none. They fell into each other's arms, and even in the restricted space of the small couch it was clear they felt good together.

When they got up to go to the bedroom, Sally didn't do anything to pull her negligee back up to cover her breasts. As she stood, my eyes never left her nipples which were jutting out with excitement and, I think, with pride. I glanced away from them only long enough to see that Ted's eyes didn't leave them, either. My last image of them as they walked to the bedroom was of him staring at my wife's naked tits.

Yes, it hurt to see her give her tits to HIM so happily, especially when the words of her letter were still fresh in my mind. But remembering the letter, I realized that Sally had taken special care to show me what I had lost, and what Ted had found. She had specifically given him her tits in front of me, BECAUSE of what she had written. She showed me that she was ignoring me, and long after the door closed behind them I felt the emotional sting of what she had done. It hurt, but it felt right, and I felt... grateful.

What they were doing felt RIGHT. What an extraordinary statement! How does it happen that a happily married man, a husband and father of more than 27 years, thinks it is RIGHT for another man to take his wife to bed right in front of him? We are in no way "swingers"; this isn't a "your turn, now my turn" arrangement. Over the past 12 years I have tried to describe the path we have taken, and reading back over my Diary I see that the path was always leading HERE. We could not have gotten here sooner – not without hurting one or both of us, and quite possibly ruining our marriage. But here we are: my wife loves me in every way except sexually. For sex – not just sex, but for a sexual relationship – she has Ted. HIM.

Him, not me.

I have no way of explaining why I believe I am supposed to be outside the bedroom door during sex, but I know I am. I know it feels right to be there. Oh yes, it feels terrible, without a doubt, to be excluded from everything that they share behind that door, but when I hear my wife responding to him the way she does, and when I hear him getting off with my wife the way he does, and when I see how hard my penis is in my own hand while I listen, I know we are all in the right place. And when they make the effort to show me what they are doing to me, my acceptance of all of this is complete.

The first 45 minutes of their bedroom time was "normal," in the sense that I heard the sounds I always hear when they are together. Clothing coming off, sheets rustling, moaning and sighing... gasping. And a LOT of kissing. Sometimes I can tell who is kissing what: when Ted groans while I hear kissing noises, I know Sally is kissing his cock. When I hear her gasp along with kissing noises, I know he is kissing her nipples or her clit. Other times I can't tell, but I know I am hearing the sounds of sex. Today, those sounds were exceptionally passionate; they seemed that way to me, and each of them confirmed it later. Their experience at our home, and the letter Sally wrote, combined to give them a renewed sense of comfort, excitement and yes, passion.

Sally had an INTENSE orgasm. I heard it, I felt the floor shake and I heard Ted groan as he held her and watched her cum. As I listened, I thought about Sally's explanation that I didn't know how to make her cum, and how the best thing I can do to help her cum when we are at home is to leave her alone to masturbate by herself. But, she said, Ted knows EXACTLY what to do: he knows how to hold her, how to caress her, how to kiss her and even how to talk to her, bringing her to the edge and making her WANT to let go in his arms. She was right; I heard it with my own ears. Ted shared my wife's orgasm with her – a pleasure I have lost – and I sat outside the door, where I belong.

Then, it was Ted's turn. I didn't know at the time that when he went to enter Sally she threw her legs up over his shoulders, but I did know that whatever she was doing, it was making him feel very, very good. I knew he was getting what I am supposed to get, and what I will never get again. (Sally says I actually NEVER got that, because she never fucked me the way she fucks him.) I looked down at my penis, hard as a rock and dripping pre-cum, and thought about never being allowed to feel what Ted was feeling right then. Again, I didn't have any desire to change things; not to fuck, or even to open the door to watch them fucking. Instead, I felt what is surely an oxymoron: exciting resignation. THIS is why I drove Sally to Pennsylvania last night; THIS is why I made a reservation for a suite; THIS is why I helped her get ready. Sally and Ted are lovers, and I am the cuckold husband.

As I heard Ted cum – as I heard my wife make Ted cum in her – I felt grateful. Grateful that I can get excited by being cuckolded, that I can find my sexual place and sexual pleasure in being excluded from sex, and grateful to my wife and to her lover for allowing me to be... nearby. Not proud, but surprisingly grateful.

Later, after we got home, Sally told me that she really appreciated how well I behaved today. I tried to explain what was different, but I could not come up with the right words at the time. Now I know that "grateful" is the word I was looking for, and Sally, I hope this explains what was different. I am so, SO grateful.

I had asked Sally to remind me of what I have lost, and I had asked Ted to act like a man with my wife. In the minute after Ted came, they each fulfilled my request so powerfully that I still shudder when I think of it.

Just after hearing Ted cum, I heard "squishing" sounds. My thought was that Sally had taken some massage oil and was stroking his cock, and honestly it sounded like she had used too much. But as I listened, she called me to open the door and come in. When I entered, I saw my wife – my naked wife – lying on her back with Ted between her legs, still fucking her. He was moving in and out of her slowly, gently; it was clear they were both enjoying the post-orgasm feelings of their bodies joined together. With each gentle push into her, I heard that "squishing" sound, and it was Sally who said, "Do you hear that? That's US." When she said it, Ted kissed her on the lips and added, "That's my cum inside her."

In the past, I would have talked to them. I would have asked them questions, or tried to get them to say what I wanted to hear them say. But not today. Today, I felt... grateful. I stood at the door, masturbating as much as I could without cumming, watching them and listening to them "squish." I saw them – THEM – joined together. I saw my wife and her lover in their bed, comfortable not only with what they had done, but with showing me. My wife showed me what I have lost, and Ted showed me that HE just fucked my wife and came in her body.

After a few minutes, they said it was time for me to leave. I said, "of course," and gently closed the door behind me.

I returned to my seat outside their bedroom door, and tried to assimilate what I had just seen and heard. Yes, I was alone again, outside the door and by myself, while they lay in each other's arms in their bed. But they took the time to show me – to show me fucking, to show me pleasure, to show me cuckolding, to show me what it sounds like when Ted's cock slides into my wife's pussy when it is filled with his cum. I was SO excited that the next half-hour passed without my even noticing.

I was roused from my erotic reverie by Ted's voice. "Paul, come in here, please."

I opened the door again, and saw him spooning Sally. She was facing toward me, and her breasts were exposed above the blankets. Well, one breast was exposed; the other was covered by his hand, which was caressing it as I entered.

Without missing a beat, without any sense that they should stop what they were doing when Sally's husband came in, Ted asked me to reheat his cup of coffee.

"Of course," I said, and picked up the cup from the bedside table.

It took about three minutes to go to the kitchen, microwave the coffee and return to the bedroom. When I came back, the scene had changed. Sally was turned toward him, her hand was gently stroking his cock, and he was... HARD. Very hard. And, as you might imagine, very excited.

I put down the cup and explained that I didn't want to microwave a styrofoam cup so I had poured the coffee into a regular coffee cup in the kitchen. Ted and Sally both thanked me, but even during my brief explanation I saw Ted jumping and shuddering as Sally stroked his cock. I saw her stroke the shaft, then caress his balls, then slide her hand up to the head and rub it until he spasmed with pleasure. I realized that I hadn't seen Ted hard in a long time; when they had invited me in on earlier dates, it was usually when they were both done and satisfied. I stood there discussing coffee cups while my wife stroked her lover's cock, and both his erection and his reactions gave me yet another sign of what they have together... and I don't.

They let me watch their hand job for a while, then quietly told me it was time to leave them alone. Again, I could not argue; they had shared so much with me that I quickly closed the door behind me as I left. Sitting on "my" chair I contemplated the vision of his hard cock in my wife's delicate hand, and my sense of gratitude grew along with my hard-on.

They kissed and played for 20 minutes or so, then Sally called to me to ask me to prepare lunch for them. (See a previous chapter of my Diary for thoughts on how erotic Wegman's can be, when you're there to buy lunch for your wife and her lover!) I quickly set out their meals and drinks, and had just taken a seat on the nearby couch when Sally came out. She was, as usual, wearing her robe – ONLY her robe – but it was pulled closed around her as she made her way to the small "kitchenette" table and sat down. Ted followed, wearing HIS normal attire, too – just his shirt. But this, too, was different today. Ted usually wears a business shirt which buttons down the front, and even when it's all he is wearing the shirttails cover his cock and his ass pretty well. Today he was wearing a polo shirt which covered... nothing. As he walked over to the table I noted that his cock was in what I call "the on-deck position"; certainly not hard, but not completely soft, either. The size that says, "I'm not done."

As he sat down, Sally pulled her robe completely open, exposing her tits to him and to me. She pointed to his salad and said, "Eat up." Ted, staring at her nipples, said, "WHAT do you want me to eat??" My wife just smiled in response.

Nothing overtly sexual ever happens during their lunches. They talk about work, family and their latest cell phone obsessions (Ted's with his new Blackberry, Sally's with her Droid). In fact, if you didn't notice their serious lack of clothing, you would not think they were anything more than friends. In the past, that has made it difficult for me; I would keep hoping they would SAY something or DO something, or at least TOUCH something sexual, but I didn't feel that way today. Today I spent that time picturing what they had shared with me, and thinking about what they had NOT shared with me, and I was content to sit on the couch and masturbate quietly while they ate.

Just as they finished, Sally got a call from one of our kids. He needed to talk to her about something for a few minutes, and when Ted saw that she would be a while he got up and moved over to a chair in the living room area, across from me. He asked me about the kid on the phone – what he's up to, what he's concerned about – and then asked about the others. Then he mentioned how much he was enjoying my wife, and how good they felt together. We talked, sotto voce, for a while, as Sally continued to give advice to our son. The only thing we did NOT talk about was the fact that Ted didn't feel the need or the desire to cover his penis and balls as we spoke, so the whole time we talked I was confronted with the startling fact that this man was waiting for my wife to finish her call so he could fuck her again. As I masturbated (modesty and dignity being casualties of this relationship many years ago), I realized that Ted was doing what I had asked: he was being a MAN and, by extension, he was making me feel less than a man.

There is no way to say "thank you" for that, so I will have to let this be my thank-you. Ted, I really, really appreciate your helping me to understand and accept each of our places in this strange and wonderful relationship!

Apparently I wasn't the only one staring at Ted's cock. As soon as Sally finished her phone call she got up and walked toward Ted. He got up, too, and they met and embraced in the middle of the living room. Sally started with her hands around his back as they kissed, then she moved them to his ass, and then she moved them to his cock. I couldn't actually see when she reached his cock, but he shook and moaned when her hands found their mark. After no more than 15 seconds of that, my wife turned toward the bedroom and literally led him away by his cock.

As always, they went at it with intensity as soon as the bedroom door closed behind them. Lunch, talking and staring at each other's bodies seem to be powerful aphrodisiacs for both of them, and it wasn't long before the moans, groans and gasps started up. From what I could tell, they were having one of their mutual masturbation sessions where they kiss and touch and suck while Sally uses her vibrator and Ted jerks off.

Ted came first. It was a POWERFUL orgasm which left me wondering if the people in the next hotel, not just the next room, heard his pleasure. It went on forever, too, and I heard my wife panting as she felt him cum and got herself off. When she came it rivaled his in intensity and volume – she was much louder than she usually allows herself to be in as public place as a hotel. Not only did her "aftershocks" go on for a long time, but in the middle of them she called me to come in.

When I entered I saw my wife and her lover, naked and holding each other tightly. Sally was still convulsing every 15 seconds or so, and Ted's cum was dripping across her hip and down into her pubic hair.

"It's time for you to lick up his cum," Sally said.

And so I did. As my wife shook with pleasure from the orgasm she had shared with HIM, I bent over and licked up his semen from the orgasm he had shared with HER. I licked his bitter fluid off my wife's hip, then sucked on her pubic hair to extract the jism that was tangled in it. Once again, as I performed this gross and humiliating act, I realized that they were each helping me to accept the way things are: my wife was shaking from cumming with him, his semen was dripping down her body from cumming with her, and I was masturbating as they showed me what I would never, ever know again... and never really did.

When I finished, they literally fell into each other's arms. They held each other so passionately and so gently that it was simply beautiful to watch. I thought about leaving them alone, but decided I could stay if I was quiet and did not interrupt. Apparently I succeeded because they let me watch them for quite a while. Actually it was Sally who let me watch them; Ted didn't notice I was there! I stood at the foot of the bed, masturbating without a sound, as they kissed and cuddled together. Only when Sally's hand went down to Ted's cock and he started to respond did she gently ask me to leave them alone again.

They spent another half-hour together, then Ted dressed and came out to leave. He stood in front of me as I jerked off, and all I could think was, "this is the man who just spent four hours in bed with my wife, kissing and fucking and sucking her; the man who held her while she came, and who came in her and on her; the man whose semen I licked off my wife's body. What do I say to him that would mean ANYTHING?" But before I could answer my own question, he told again what a wonderful time he had in bed with my wife, and he thanked me for bringing her to him. I said he was very welcome and I, in turn, thanked him for treating my wife so well, for giving her what I have never been able to give her, and for doing so much to show me that HE is the man my wife wants inside her. He said I was very, VERY welcome.