I had no idea a group like this existed until I got the email inviting me to the orientation meeting. My initial reaction was much like almost everyone else who got that message, rage, anger, embarrassment, humiliation. How could anyone possibly have known? As Dave said, "Does it really matter? You're among friends here. That's what counts."
"Hi, I'm Paul, and I'm a cuckold."
"Hi, Paul."
My wife and I work different hours. She works days as a department store clerk. I'm on the swing shift with the telephone company. I go to work before she gets home so we rarely see each other. Fortunately, we both have the weekends off.
Most nights she's already asleep when I get home. I want to wake her when I come in, but she has to get up at six, so I let her sleep. We both sleep in the nude, so it is very difficult for me to leave her alone. Very often she is lying on top of the sheets.
Her body is wonderful. Being on her feet all day keeps her legs slim and strong. She could easily crush me with them. Her waist is narrow, and her hips are perfect for making babies. We haven't made any yet, but someday we will. Her breasts are full and firm with nipples that always stand up. Her best feature is her smile. It's natural, never forced. Even asleep, she smiles.
We bought our first house a year after we got married with a $40,000 down payment. I don't know how we came up with that much money so quickly. I'm not very good with finances, so she handles our money.
I can't say I'm a saint. While Elaine and I have a great time in bed on the weekends, it's not enough. We did all the regular stuff like the missionary position, 69, cowgirl, doggy, standing up in the shower. We both had good orgasms, but something seemed missing. I didn't believe it was enough for her either. It was her idea to stop going to church so we could spend more time making love. I did the grocery shopping before I went to work to keep that from interfering with our sex life. Still, I wanted more.
One night I left Elaine a message on our answering machine that I'd be going out for a few beers after work with my coworkers. Instead, I went to a singles' bar. I had been away from the singles' scene so long I completely struck out with every girl I talked to. Not being one to accept defeat lightly, I tried again a couple weeks later. That time I picked up a girl and we went to her place. Yes, I got her into bed, or maybe she got me there. She was warm and passionate, and we had a couple orgasms. Then I put my clothes on and left. I felt so empty. I had established a small relationship with her, and I hated to leave her, but I had to get home to Elaine.
Several months went by, and the urge for more sex would not go away. I kept praying for an opening on the day shift, but there wasn't any turnover. There were several others on my shift with more seniority who wanted a day shift too, so I knew I probably would have to wait several more years.
One afternoon, I was going through the phone book looking for something when I came across the "Escorts" listings. I knew that escort was a euphemism for prostitute. The terms in the ads were rather confusing. "Discreet" was obvious, but what was "One Price Policy?" My curiosity got the best of me, and I called one of the agencies. The prices they quoted made me choke. A one-hour "date" was two hundred fifty dollars. I called a couple other places, but their rates were even higher. As I rang off from the third call, I figured I was out of my league with those places. Yet the idea of a hooker intrigued me. It would be straight sex with no commitments, no relationship however minimal. Just "hi" and we'd fuck and "goodbye." It would be a business transaction. The more I thought about it, the more it appealed to me.
I started hoarding cash. Instead of eating out, I took my lunch with me. Yes, the swing shift gets a lunch break at eight p.m. I used coupons at the grocery store. Anything that would conserve money and wouldn't be obvious that I was doing so. After two months I had enough for a one-hour date from the cheapest place and a motel room. I certainly couldn't have the whore come to my house when Elaine would be home.
I booked the room in advance and checked in on my way to work. At work I was a nervous wreck that afternoon. I couldn't wait for eleven o'clock to come so I could dash to my room. When my shift finally ended, I ran to my car and sped out of the parking lot. The ten-minute drive to the motel seemed endless. Every traffic light, all two of them, was red. Breathlessly I raced into the room and dug out the phone book. My hands trembled so much that I dropped the telephone. "Slow down," I told myself. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It calmed me a bit. I called the agency and made the arrangements. A couple minutes later a girl called back for directions. She would be at my room in twenty minutes. As I rang off from talking to her, I felt like I had just ordered a pizza to be delivered.
I used the waiting time to take a quick shower and put on some clean clothes that I had brought with me. Just as I finished tying my shoes, there was a knock on the door.
The girl was taller than me, at least six foot in her bare feet. She was wearing high heels, which put her nipples right at the level of my mouth. For once I was happy to be short. She didn't look like a whore. She was elegant. Her cocktail dress was light blue with a ruffled front. The hemline was only a couple inches below the curve of her tight bottom putting her long legs on display. Her breasts were larger than Elaine's and just as firm. Her golden hair came to her waist. Her deep blue eyes captivated me. I must have been staring. "Are you Paul?" she asked. I shook my head to get back to reality.
"Yes," I said, "please come in."
She didn't walk through the doorway; she glided in. "Shall we take care of business first?" she said softly. I handed her the money, all brand new bills I had gotten for the occasion. She counted it quickly, put it into her purse, and took out a cell phone. "I have to let them know I'm here." She made a quick call and put the phone away. "Most men are already undressed when I arrived. You're a real gentleman." Her voice was angelic.
"Thank you," I said nervously.
We sat on the edge of the bed. She took the initiative and kissed me. The kiss was long and gentle. My dick stirred just from that kiss. My trembling subsided. Her fingertips caressed my cheek. Slowly I put my arms around her. When our lips parted, I was completely at ease. She kissed my neck while unbuttoning my shirt. I wanted to rip her dress off, but that would have been crude. She was far too refined for such behavior.
After my shirt landed on the floor, I laid back. She lowered her head over my chest and sucked on my nipples. Even Elaine had never done that before. My dick stiffened in my pants. Her hand caressed my boner through the fabric of my crotch. It was so hard it ached. Apparently sensing my distress, she opened my fly and extracted my cock. "It's beautiful," she whispered. Not even my wife had said that before.
The whore -- I mean the lady because she was indeed a lady -- knelt and took my shoes and socks off my feet, then pulled my pants down leaving me completely naked. I stretched out on the bed. She sat with her back to me. "Would you be so kind as to unzip me?" she asked sweetly. How could I refuse that voice? After I had opened the zipper on the back of her dress, she stood keeping her back to me and took her arms out of the sleeves. Holding the dress up she turned to face me, and to make eye contact with me. She lowered the front of her dress exposing one beautiful breast, then the other. She let the dress slide downward until her pussy with its yellow fuzz was in full view, then let it drop to the floor. Intellectually I knew I was just another trick to her, but I felt like she was in love with me, that I was hers alone.
