Giving My Wife To Other Men

My wife and I have been into the cuckolding lifestyle now for more than 20 years. In fact two of our three children have been fathered by other men.

I met Reena, who is Indian, when I was 22 and she was 21. She was at a friend's party and when I first saw her never imagined such a beautiful woman could exist. She was about 5' 4" with an hour glass figure; the conservative dress she had on could do nothing to hide. I was smitten and before I knew what I was doing had gone over and introduced myself. Her smile as she responded with her name lit my universe. It seemed she was as attracted to me as I was to her.

We were married within a year, despite objections from her orthodox Hindu parents (effectively she ran away from home). Reena was a virgin but our honeymoon night, which began with me gently easing my eight inches into her tight pussy and pushing through her hymen, released a sexual tigress.

We never stopped fucking. I have never had complaints from the various women I had previous screwed (I think it was about 20 by that stage), often managing it 4-5 times a night. But by the end of the honeymoon it was clear even that would not be enough for my new bride.

Over the next three months she literally wore me out as she made up for all her sheltered, restrictive upbringing.

Somehow I stayed the course and eventually, much to my relief, she seemed to quieten down... slightly.

I considered myself to be the happiest man in the world. My wife was beautiful and sexy beyond anything I had imagined. There was just one problem. Years earlier, after my then girlfriend and I crashed drunk at a mate's house, I woke to find them fucking in his bedroom. At first I was furious and my first impulse was to rush in and tear them apart, but (and yes this really does happen) as I watched I realised I had a massive erection.

And the more I watched my drunk g/f being screwed by my mate the more aroused I became until I came in my pants just as he orgasmed inside her. At that point I quietly returned to the couch. I never said anything to her and she certainly never mentioned anything to me. And although the relationship didn't last more than a few more months every time I fucked her I kept imagining it was my mate that was fucking her. I realised I wanted her to sleep with him again. These thoughts became so obsessive I began buying every sex magazine I could for readers' letters on the subject.

We eventually split and my fantasy was never really realised. But the wish to be cuckolded never went away. Don't get me wrong, I'm no sissy and used to be able to take down most guys. Neither do I have any difficulties, as I have already indicated, in the sex department.

I spoke of a problem though, didn't I. Basically, while I would fuck Reena, I couldn't help but fantasise about her being with another guy. Afterwards I would berate myself repeatedly, telling myself anyone with a wife as stunning as mine would have to be nuts to want another man to spurt his cum into her. But the thoughts, the desires would always come back and as time went on, and I read more stories, so my fantasy evolved to black men and pregnancy. As I fucked Reena (doggie is my favourite position), I would look down and in the half-light imagine my shadow-shrouded cock was that of her black lover about to cum in her fertile pussy and knock her up.

I agonised over whether to tell her about my feelings, but in a sense matters were taken out of my hand when she began to tell me that a black porter (she is a nurse) was hitting on her at work.

I was immediately aroused like crazy and had a hard time hiding my erection as I tried to dismiss the whole thing as nonchalantly as I could. I said something like: "Hey, you're beautiful, you know how other guys look at you, so it's not surprising some of them are gonna try and chat you up. Get used to it."

She told me his name was Gary and that night while making love to her I mentioned that this is what Gary probably fantasised about.

Reena asked me what I meant and I remember replying: "Fucking you."

She gasped and came powerfully. Afterwards I told her the thought of him having sex with her seemed to appeal to her. She denied it of course, but I wondered if I had somehow struck a hidden chord.

Well, as fuck followed fuck in the weeks that followed, I would mention him again. About the third or fourth time she breathlessly asked: "Do you really think he fantasises about me?"

I told her he'd be dead or gay if he didn't and she laughed. I then said there would be nothing he would like better than to repeatedly fill her up with his cum.

After we had both cum ouselves, I remember her saying he couldn't do that because she was not on the pill and he would have to wear a condom. I nearly came a second time with shock, but then she hurriedly said: "Not that I'm going to do anything like that anyway."

But I knew the seed had been sown and I was going to pour on as much nourishment as I could.

I continued mentioning his name until one night I told just before she orgasmed: "I know the thought of him fucking you turns you on, admit it."

She didn't say anything. I thrust into particularly hard and again ordered her to admit it. She moaned: "Okay, yes I admit it, all your talking makes me very excited but it can't happen."

"Why?" I asked. "If you wanted to do it you would have my permission."

"Are you serious?

"Yes, my darling, very."

She came hard.

Well we talked long into the night after that, sometimes fucking, but usually just content to lay next to one another, as I poured out my long-held fantasies of cream-pie eating and sloppy seconds; even the pregnancy bit.

She was very quiet for several minutes after that particular disclosure.

Then Reena turned to me and, gazing deep into my eyes, said: "Are you really saying you not only want to sleep with other men, and black men at that, but you would be quite happy for one or more of them to make me pregnant."

"Yes," I replied. "I know it sounds weird but to me this is the most exciting think I can imagine - you wanting another man, a black man, giving yourself to him completely and welcoming his hot, thick cum deep inside you knowing he could knock you up. More importantly I want you to really want him to make you a mummy."

"But wouldn't you be jealous. What if I fell in love with him or at least developed feelings for him, which wouldn't be surprising if I'm carrying his child? And even if I didn't fall in love with him the fact remains you would have to be a father to another man's baby. Wouldn't you be jealous or anything?"

I recall kissing her gently before assuring her: "Jealous? Perhaps. As for bringing up another man's baby, or even other men's babies that you give birth to, that somehow ranks with you getting pregnant in terms of sexual excitement. As for you falling in love with someone, I know that's a risk and a dangerous one at that, but twisted though this might sound, that turns me on, too."

As you can see I really had it bad.

"You're mad darling, but I do love you and I must admit it sounds so exciting, so naughty, even forbidden I suppose."

"Will you do it? I asked eagerly.

"To be honest with you I want to but I am scared, really scared. "

"Well that's to be expected and I can also honestly say I am, too. So go slowly, give Gary some encouragement and eventually he will ask you for a coffee or a date or something. Then see how it develops."

She breathed deeply. "I'm really not sure, but just let me think about this some more."

We began to kiss again after that and soon I had put on another condom and began fucking her again.

"You want to do it don't you?"

"Mmmmmmm," she responded.

"You want him to fuck you with his big black cock?"

"Yeeees," she gasped, bucking her hips.

"No condom?"

"Oh god, yeeees!"

"Cum inside you? Fill you up with his hot, thick cum?"

"Yes, yes, yes."

"Make you pregnant?

"Yes, darling, yes."

"And you'll have his baby?"

"Yes, ohhhhhh yes... have his baby."

"Will you really do this."

"Yes, Jamie, I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise," she managed as her body began to shake with the biggest orgasm of her life. I followed suit.

In the morning she was quiet, Neither of us mentioned the pillow promises. But after breakfast she suddenly rushed into my arms and began crying.

"Darling, what's the matter?"

"I....I....I mean if I do this, you'll never leave me, will you?"

My cock throbbed into a massive erection as I replied: "Never, ever."

Well we had a few more conversations like that, before she told me during one fuck session that Gary had asked her to a show he had been given tickets for.

"Go," I moaned.

"You really want me to?"

"Yes," I said.

"You know it could happen?"

"Yes."

"And you still want me to go?"

"Yes," I gasped as I began to fuck her even harder.

"Knowing he could be where you are now?"

"Oh god, yes, do it, do it."

"Knowing I might come back pregnant?"

"Yes, yes, yes, do it. I want him to fuck his black baby into you. I want you to fuck him as many times as you want to, for as long as you want to, whenever you want to. Even go away on holiday with him if you want to."

"You want that?"

"Yes!"

"We'll be like husband and wife."

"Mmmmmmmm"

"I already like him. I could fall in love with him."

"Yes."

"You want me to?"

"Yes, ohhhhh yes, fall in love with him, I really want you to."

With that we came together. Both of us having mind-blowing orgasms.

The show was the following weekend and the days that followed were ones of increasing nervousness and tension between us. But we were both smouldering sexually, and if anything sex between us became even hotter.

The conversations ran on the same lines, with me entreating her to let Gary make her pregnant and have his baby. I know I also again told her I wanted her to fall in love with him.

Crazy, or what?

That Saturday I cried off work. I just knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate. As she got ready I sat on the bed watching her, not really believing what was happening, not quite able to comprehend I was almost certainly sending my incomparably beautiful and sweet wife into another man's arms, to fuck with him and even to become pregnant by him.

I knew on an intellectual level that this could so easily destroy our marriage. And yet my excitement would not simply allow me to tell her to stop and not go.

She looked stunning in a low cut black dress (it had to be, didn't it), that, like so many stories I have read, accentuated her lush 34C breasts, 21" waist, and voluptuous 36" hips.

Reena was finally ready to leave. We stood facing one another by the front door. There was a strange awkwardness between us. My mouth was dry and I had butterflies in my stomach. I told her.

Suddenly she was in my arms tearing up. "Are you sure, are you sure? Tell me if you're not and I won't go, darling. I'll just stay in and spend the night here with you."

I knew this was my last chance to say "no", to prevent what could turn out to be the biggest disaster of my life.

Yet I didn't. my cock virtually did the talking. "It's okay. I love you so much darling and I want you to go. Go with him, be with him, give yourself to him totally."

"You really mean this?"

"Yes, go. Now!"

"You know, Jamie, I'm so wet down there. It frightens me how scary and yet exciting this all is."

"I know, darling. But I want you to come back even wetter."

She looked deep into my eyes. We kissed again and she whispered: "You know I think I will."

Then she was opening the front door, a final look over her shoulder, a blown kiss and then she was gone.

Seconds later I heard her starting her car. His, I think, had broken down or something and so she was going to do the driving.

As I write this, I can remember so clearly that as the sound of her car engine slowly faded in the distance, I was almost overcome with the mad desire to fling the door open, run down the road, and somehow catch her and make her stop.

But it was too late. This was all my fault, I had set this in motion, and, don't forget, as this was before most people, including ourselves, had mobile phones, there was no way I could really reach her. I didn't even know his exact address or where the show was. Stupid, I know.

What I don't remember with any clarity is the hours that followed. I didn't get drunk or anything, but the sheer intensity of emotions, the gut-wrenching fear, the intense jealousy, the massive excitement, just made it all a huge blur. I know I cried several times. I also know I masturbated several times, probably in between my pathetic but perhaps understandable sobbing. Nah! Who am I kidding. It wasn't understandable at all.

If memory serves me she finally got back about 2.45am. I was, of course, out of my mind with worry by this time. Visions of her bloody and lifeless body had flashed into my mind repeatedly during the last couple of hours. Once I had even reached for the phone to call the police and report her missing. That's the state I was in when I finally heard her car draw up.

As I rushed to the door, my relief was almost overcome with waves of nausea, even though I had not been able to eat anything.

I watched trembling as she slowly climbed out of the vehicle. My throat was tight, I felt I could hardly breathe – probably I didn't – as she hesitantly walked across the gravel towards me.

She stopped a couple of feet away on the porch.

Silence.

Somehow I knew then she had had actually done it, she had really fucked him. Visions of him between her legs, fucking her hard, then her in doggy position, finally riding on top, flashed through my mind in a split second.

Then with a moan she launched herself into my arms and we both cried and hugged, cried and hugged. And kissed, My god, how we kissed, ravenously, desperately.

Through the maelstrom of confused emotions came a crystal clear thought. "She's got his spunk inside her, right now, this very minute."

My wife, my darling wife, had given herself to another man and had his cum – no, not just cum, his potent, baby-making black man's cum - inside her beautiful body. Even now his sperm were searching for an egg to fertilise. Maybe it had already happened. And this was actually real!

Somehow, we made our way into the bedroom, kissing, hugging, crying, declaring our undying love for each other.

I don't remember undressing her or myself, but I vividly recall the angry, red love bites on her neck and all over her firm breasts. Her nipples were hugely swollen and I could see bruises on her arms. Gone now was the fear and doubt. I was consumed with an insatiable sexuality – my beautiful once-innocent wife was innocent no longer. She had experienced extreme, even rough passion with another man and somehow she had loved it. I knew I had helped corrupt and perhaps deprave her. Because of me her beautiful body was deliciously soiled inside and out.

Forgive me though, but I loved it. At that moment the signs of her ravishment, the unmistakeable smell of sweat and combined juices were the most beautiful thing in the world. I rained kisses on her, particularly on her love bites and bruises as I slowly, inexorably and inevitably made my way down to that magical place that most of all would be testament to her lucious, life-changing adultery. That word was like mental nectar to me – something to be savoured...adultery! Then I parted her lovely legs.

The smell of unrestrained copulation temporarily overwhelmed me. Her pubic hair was matted with moisture. From the aroma, it was clearly mostly as a result of his cum.

I lowered my head and slowly separated her clearly swollen lips.

"No," she moaned, suddenly trying to pull me back up. "You mustn't. I'm too dirty. Let me shower first."

"No, I want this, I need this."

Reluctantly she took her hands away.

I lowered my head further, at the same time touching her dampness.

As I did so I almost recoiled as a big, glistening dollop of cum suddenly started to slide out of her.

I gazed at it mesmerised but for no more than a second.

Then, with an almost primordial moan, I buried my face into her hot, sopping wet sex.

I licked.

And almost fainted as the heady taste of Gary's cum assaulted my taste buds. It was a bit salty, but for all I cared it could have tasted like road tar. I wanted it I needed it. I had sucked the gob of cum into my mouth, savoured it as my heart pounded in my ears, and then swallowed. It was at that point I came messily on the duvet, gout after gout of hot spunk, uselessly soaking into the material. Despite my several earlier orgasms, I can honestly say it was the most powerful I had ever experienced.

In the minutes that followed I was like a man possessed, moaning, licking, sucking, swallowing.

Initially I had both hands under her beautiful, spunk-slick bottom. Then I moved one of them to caress (albeit a bit awkwardly) her flat stomach. I knew she could be pregnant. Damn, I wanted her to be, desperately so. With all my heart I wanted Gary to have knocked her up. I even remember saying mantra-like in my mind: "Please be pregnant, please be pregnant, please be pregnant, please, please have his baby inside you."

I was dimly aware my wife has several orgasms throughout all this.

At some stage, I put a condom on my still hard cock and even that action was so sexy, the implications so delicious.

I gazed into Reena's eyes and then with my face almost certainly glistening from her and Gary's combined lust and fuck juices, I began kissing her passionately. She returned my kisses with equal fervour. At the same time I plunged my cock into her steaming pussy. There was no resistant. But there was the most satisfyingly lewd squelch. And heat. Even through the condom I felt that.

Neither of us lasted long.

Maybe six, possibly as many as 10 thrusts, and we came together.

As I filled my condom with another impossibly heavy load, I grated: "I want you to keep fucking him, don't stop seeing him, please."

"I won't," she moaned. "I can't." If I hadn't already been coming, those words alone would have sent me over the top.

It's fair to say over the next few days – we both took time off work - we couldn't keep our hands off each other. It was as if I had to somehow to prove that I could still pleasure her, that I was still as important to her as I was before. Maybe I was just reclaiming territory somehow. I don't know. As for Reena, I know she was trying to reconcile her guilt and her deep love for me with her feelings for Gary and the almost overpowering need to see him again.

The fact was it was an amazingly tense and exciting time, made all the more so by Gary's repeated phone calls asking why she wasn't at work and begging to see her again.

Of course, the details, thrust by squelchy thrust, of their hours of fucking emerged. Not all at once, some she related while we fucked, others while we just lay together exhausted.

Her nervousness at the concert, her decision to leave as soon as it was over and drive home, his kiss outside, quite open, in front of everybody else and taking the edge of her determination to return to me, the growing passion as she responded, their bodies straining against each other, and then her decision not to come home.

She drove him to his flat in silence, the sexual tension between them almost palpable. She knew she was going to give herself to him and she knew she would do it without a condom. Somehow it seemed so right, forbidden, but right. How's that for a contradiction?

They travelled the lift in silence, holding hands tightly. As he closed the door behind her, her resolve again faltered. Once more he took her in his arms and this time all hesitation fled.

She remembered thinking she felt like a bride all over again as they kissed and explored each other's desperate bodies and somehow lost their clothes.