If you are reading this from the location of my publishing you would know this is a wife sharing/cuckolding story. If you're not into stories with this kind of content please politely move on as this isn't for you. If you're the type of psycho that just likes to write ignorant comments without an explanation or helpful advice: get fucked idiot!! For the rest of you I hope the read is partially original, and enjoyable.
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Colin
Tonight's sex rated only second to the very first time we met years before. Our intimacy was a roller coaster of emotions. I was surprised by my wife Rachel's sudden desire to role play the position of another cheating wife with me being her wanted stud. I wanted to enjoy it, and I accepted her transformation presented by her vivid imagination. Although I should been more wary of how my past knowledge was telling me that everything she was portraying was against everything I knew about her. My wife had always been jealous, and that jealousy was always ok with me. She wasn't high maintenance as long as she knew that I was always going to be there for her. When she tried to make me call her by any other name then her own, and pretend to be a carnal treasure for my pleasure I became irrevocably distracted.
Her tears that followed her confession to finding my cuckold browsing were misunderstood. In the attempt to understand my private fantasies she became mistaken in my position inside them. It crushed her to think I was interested in other married women as trophies. She was willing to fight for me outside her comfort zone to keep me from pursuing others outside our marriage.
When I tried to explain to her she had me all wrong, she instantly expressed relief finding that it was me that fantasied to be the voyeur to another stranger entering our relationship. I had feared how to discuss the topic of my strongest sexual urge, and didn't know how she would respond to my de-emasculating obsession. She could have assumed it was me trying to introduce swinging, or she could have been repulsed with my perversion. I understood cultural norms and how it was possible for her to reject me for my sexual kink that included me watching her with another man, but she didn't.
As she accepted my admission to what I was really interested in I became intensely sexually excited. Her tears dried, and she then tended to mine. The fear of rejection was staggering for both of us, but we found mutual pleasure when she understood that I had not even considered another woman. She started to understand how she became a vivid part of my sexual monologue without her knowing, and it aroused her. She was adjusting very positively to the reversal of tables.
When she uttered the question, "You wanted to be the cuckold," it followed with her inserting my raging hard on. I had positively answered her question, and my excitement was feeding her own. "Do you want to watch me with another man even though I wouldn't want you with another woman," She asked again to make sure she had it correct?
I promised her once again she was the only women for me, and promised that I only wished to watch if it meant to pleasure us both. She didn't understand what I meant so I repeated myself, "I never want to lose you, but I would enjoy watching as you are pleasured."
"I could have other men as you watch," she said in a moan as she bounced up and down on my shaft. As she started getting closer to coming her erotic questions continued, "Would you want to know my boyfriend; the man that behind closed doors would fuck me...arghhh...Can he be a friend, a boyfriend," she panted?
Her approval was on display as she continued to bounce up and down on my overly rigid rod; it had become so hard that the stiffness was causing me mild pain as I felt myself coming closer to completion. I knew her questions might only be sexual talk in the moment, but it was very clear she liked something about the subject. I wanted to answer, but not to lose control and cum immediately. "Yes, I would want to watch and take my turn with you arghhh. Wouldn't you want variety, and skip having a boyfriend," I answered in slow deliberate voice.
"I want to decide," she asked again with her eyes rolled back and her pelvis grinding for vaginal release against me?
Her request to decide was exactly what I wanted to hear. I wanted her to make the choice, and with her freedom of pleasure I would find vicarious pleasure. "Yes you would always choose! As long as you love me enough to always let me watch and join afterwards," I said while losing the fight to hold back my orgasm.
"I know who I want," she screamed while starting her orgasmic contractions. "I don't want a stranger, I want you to share me with someone who knows us," she said as her orgasm started to fall off and mine started to erupt.
I was too nervous to ask.
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Rachel
Circumstances can make anyone appear honest even if you previously hid the truth from even yourself. After having sex that first night when the truth came pouring out we both silently slipped to our sides of the bed and presumed to fall asleep. I don't think either of us feel asleep right away, and I can still remember being awake for hours thinking about what just happened.
I had buried my own interests deep down inside for years. I had realized I hadn't indulged like I had in my college years since I was married. I knew it was partially due to changes in me, and my understanding that I wasn't interested in being a hedon any longer. In college I was no angel, and I was the type of girl that had more guy friends then girlfriends. I don't think my husband ever truly understood that side of me, and after meeting him and knowing how good things were with him I didn't want him to know everything either. I never missed being the girl that had lots of guy friends with nobody to call a boyfriend. At the time I wasn't sure if it was the number of guys I kept in my company that scared away new men, or the reputation that eventually followed me around. Eventually I started to hate meeting new men, and trying to decipher if they were just after a good time or if they might be the rare person after my heart. I knew it wasn't because I wasn't attractive, but it might have been because of the type of men I attracted. This was the reason I found myself not drawn to a man with no history and no social appeal. Even when I was finishing college I would rather convert my better male friends into part time lovers then privilege another player.
The more I thought about having relations with other men, the more I realized I still had a weakness for man I considered a real friend. It wasn't like I had many male friends at this time of my life anyway; at least the type that broke the barrier between acquaintance and kindred spirit. Although lying in bed in the dark with the spot light of truth shinning down on me I was finally able to admit something I had been trying to bury. I had a crush on one of my husband's best friends. I knew the crush wasn't recent, and not something caused by anything that occurred this evening. I was drawn to him the same way I was drawn to my husband. When we all sat together and just hung out I felt like he was somebody I could rely on, and could trust in ways I couldn't with other people. Knowing he was my husband's closest friend and somebody that we already shared time with made him part of my extended family. He was much older than me, but he was the rugged and men-of-men types. I had witnessed him date a dozen women since I met him several years ago, and I had to agree with his actions to distance himself from those women as they were not meant for him. He was an honest and loyal friend to my husband and I, and I saw him as the beautiful man he was. I knew without a shadow of a doubt if I was a single woman I would have wanted to date him and more, and now that I was presented with this idea of being with another man I found myself resisting the temptation to accept.
The morning came and Colin was out of bed first. I heard him rummaging in the kitchen and preparing something to eat. "I must have been damn good last night to get him to cook me breakfast without me even getting out of bed," I thought with a satisfied smirk on my face. I stretched in bed one last time, and enjoyed those final moments before getting up to join him.
I made my way into the kitchen and sat at the nook at the end of the countertop. We smiled at each other and acknowledged the good mood we were in; I smiled that much more when I knew he was happy.
I watched as he continued to cook, and thanked him when he found time to pour my first cup of coffee of the day. He placed our plates across from one another, and sat to join me but remained quiet. As we were eating we looked up at each other several times, and met each other with a shy smirk. We both wanted to say something about last night, but neither of us had the courage to say it yet.
"I guess it will be me," I said while breaking the silence. "I hope you're not feeling embarrassed about what you told me last night," I asked him?
"A little," he answered before quickly continuing so that I couldn't respond, "I didn't expect you to respond so well with it, and I am actually still kind of turned on." He was looking down at his plate, and appeared to be leaving something left unsaid.
"Are you sure you're ok with me knowing, or did you prefer the fantasy more," I asked?
He paused and looked to be thinking very hard how he was going to continue. "I wanted you to know, but you found out earlier than expected. I just think the drama that played out in my head was different than yours," he said with a concerned tone.