To all those who left positive, or constructive comments about the first part of this story - thank you. To all the others, the 'anti-cuck' brigade as one reader called them, this story also contains cuckold, humiliation, male chastity and interracial themes so if this will offend you then please do not read on. I have given some thought to the category in which this is placed and have chosen to remain with the Loving Wives category, not least because despite how the story develops, the couple remain in love; my own personal experiences as a cuckold have proved to me that this can indeed be the case.
Chapter 2 - Pain & Pleasure
Katrina had been gone now for less than an hour and while I was trying to relax, having a beer to calm my nerves, I had never in all my life been as wound up as I was that evening. My mind was racing with images of what she was doing, where she was and how Steve and her were behaving in public; it wasn't jealousy I was feeling, more so a feeling of helplessness at my inability to relieve my now aching cock, which had been in a state of semi-arousal since before Katrina had left, in so much as the CB 6000 allowed, and a mixture of both concern and excitement at how she or I would handle any questions if she was seen with Steve by anyone we knew.
I sat back on the sofa, thinking about what had led to this evening's events so far. I knew that I wasn't gay, and yet the unrelenting desire to taste another man's cum must mean that I was bisexual? That said, I don't think I had ever seen a guy in the street and found them sexually attractive, but when watching pornographic films I had always wished that I could take the place of the girl who inevitably ended up on her knees at the end of the film, her mouth open and receiving a mouth or face full of thick creamy cum from a well endowed man.
As I thought about these things my cock again began to stir and I had to shift around in the seat to make myself comfortable, I reached into the waistband of my jeans to adjust the device but instead of helping, this just made me feel hornier, especially as my hand felt the smooth satin of the girly panties I was wearing. I was desperate for release, but not being able to do anything about it just made me harder and hurt more, it was like a vicious circle that in truth, I wanted to stay in.
All of a sudden my mobile telephone alerted me that a text message had been received, it was now 10.30pm, Katrina had been gone for over 90 minutes and I hoped it was from her, that she would at least let me know what was going on. It was indeed from her and I opened the message.
'hi cucky :) am in the irish bar, all goin well, s says hi lol'
'S says hi'? There was no way that meant what I thought it did, that she had told him I was at home waiting for her, but as I thought about it, I found myself hoping that she had, that her and him were maybe talking about how I was so submissive to her that I had agreed to to let her go out into town with him. I sent her a message back straightaway.
'have u told him??? what time will u be home?'
I hoped that she would get back to me just as quickly but I was made to wait for another half an hour before my phone beeped once again; I read the message which didn't answer my questions, but just said she would text me again when she was on the way home, but not to wait up.
An element of uncertainty about the situation began to creep into my mind; I had thought that Katrina would have wanted to keep teasing me, letting me know exactly what was happening between them, but she seemed to have other ideas and was more intent on making me suffer, mentally and by now, physically, at home. The CB 6000 was almost painful now, I realised that it was maybe on too tightly, as my balls were throbbing against the satin panties and yet, strangely, I knew that even if I had the key to the small padlock, I would not have used it; I had asked for this and until such time as I thought there was a significant danger of physical injury, I would endure the pain. Anyway, I didn't have the key and was at a loss as to how I would safely remove it should the situation have turned awry.
I made sure all the curtains were drawn and removed my jeans and socks, sighing at the slight relief this afforded my testicles. Going into the kitchen, dressed in just the panties and a T-shirt, I necked a couple of painkillers, which I washed down with a swig of beer and went back into the front room. As I walked, my cock moved gently up and down within its plastic prison and the feeling of this and the panties against my skin made me look down and have a little smile to myself, despite the accompanying pain, at the same time making a mental note to shave my legs the next day. I settled back onto the sofa, stretched out, my legs apart and channel-surfed the TV, using one hand to operate the remote and another to gently rub my now swollen balls, closing my eyes at the mix of pain and pleasure this offered.
I found myself starting to drift off to sleep, with images of my sexy wife draped over this strange black guy in the Irish bar, and as I fell asleep the last image I remembered was that of a couple we both knew walking into the bar and looking over at her and Steve as they kissed passionately at the bar, their tongues probing each others mouths as their bodies pressed hard against each other, in a way that could never be shrugged off as anything but a kiss between two lovers...
