My wife and I have been married for 3 years. We met in college and fell hard for each other. Her name is Kiara. She's a film industry writer, slim and curvy, standing 5'7". I'm Praful, 5'10", slim with an athletic build. I work in finance at an MNC. We live together in our beautiful apartment. Our parents visit us every quarter.
We've had a lot of fun in our relationship. It was healthy, and our sex life was great. But then, stress crept in. My job intensified, and so did my struggles. My sexual performance faded. I started cumming too quickly. I couldn't thrust like she wanted. I also sensed Kiara's dissatisfaction with my size. She masked it, but I could see through her facade.
Once, we had sex at least 20 times a month. Now? It's down to once. She always has excuses. "Baby, I'm tired. Maybe tomorrow." I knew the truth. The issue was me. As evolution suggests, men have greater sexual desires. In a sexless marriage, I turned to porn.
I stumbled upon cuckolding long ago. It was just a fantasy back then. But now, I had to persuade my wife to reconnect, to get naked in front of me again. One morning, I broached the topic of our sex life. She agreed we weren't intimate. Then I ventured into that couple swapping fantasy. Her coffee nearly sprayed. She spat, angrily listing slurs. I calmed her down. "Let's not involve others. Let's try a new dildo." The idea weirded her out initially.
After a tense discussion, she agreed. Later that evening, we browsed online for the toy. I hesitated to ask her choice. I let her decide. My length, 6 inches and 4.5 inches in girth, which is quite average in length, but a pencil in girth, I believe that it was my length that kept her married to me. She picked one -- 7.5 inches long and 5 inches wide. I noted the shy look on her face. She conveyed her desire for an adventure with size. I placed an order for that big boy and surprisingly, she was in the mood to make out with me, maybe it was her happiness that made her horny. We made out good, but I didn't get any sex that night. A few days later the package had arrived. I came home early that day. I prepped the bedroom, candles, rose petals, everything to make it special. When she walked in, her face lit up with joy at my setup. I handed her the gift, watching her slowly unwrap it, curiosity and excitement building.
Then came that moment. "Let's play," I said, adrenaline rushing. Soft kisses turned heated as I introduced the dildo as if offering a new adventure. Kiara's eyes widened, excitement palpable. "Are you ready?" I asked, heart pounding. She nodded, biting her lip, and began removing her clothes. I got some lube, but she denied. she wanted to make that dildo wet with her own spit, she wanted it all for herself. I was a little shocked and surprisingly excited when she said that. She used to say that to me during the early days of our relationship.
My breath hitched as she took the dildo in her hand, her fingers tracing its smooth, sculpted length. Her gaze locked with mine, a challenge, a dare. And then, she brought it to her lips. The sight of her, her mouth caressing the synthetic cock, was a jolt to my senses. A primal surge of jealousy, hot and visceral, coursed through me. I wanted to rip it from her grasp, to replace it with myself, to reclaim my place as the sole object of her desire. But a darker, more insidious voice whispered in my ear, urging me to watch, to witness, to surrender to the intoxicating humiliation.
