I want to let the folks that follow me know, I only wrote this because being a cuckold pisses so many people off and they feel they have to tell me over and over how sick it is. In the first place, if you don't like the ramblings of an old man who has lost his internet for the last ten days. Then don't read the damn thing.
My stories have a beginning, and then I just let it run. The best way for me to get started is to just sit and watch some inanimate object. At this very minute, I am taking in the beauty of Blue Bonnets filling a field. I wonder how many bees it took to pollinate all those flowers. I bet there was just one horny guy that did'em all.
I had a teacher in High School (please no emails about how much school I missed), she stopped me one day going into her class and she told me... "You're a dreamer, don't let life get in your way." I'm still that dreamer, I didn't take her advice then.... I'm trying now. Now read this bunch of crap I dreamed up. and give me all the hell I have coming.
Thanks,
Jay
The Cuck
By Jay Cameron
If it were a race, my wife would lose every time. It's our night out, more correctly stated it's her night out. You would think by now, she would have this all planned out. Everything would be laid out nice and neat. All she had to do was step into her magic mountain, and five minutes later, out she would come; ready for all that she had planned in her mischievous little head. But no....she has to show me every slut-outfit in her private collection.
In case you're wondering.... wonder no more. Two years and three months ago, I officially became a cuck. My wife and I have been married five glorious years (I tried to put some sarcasm in that turn of phrase). No kids made it easier for her to use her demon magic on me, and before I knew what was what, I was tied to a post and she was wearing the pants.
I could never understand why she does what she does. She will spend an hour getting all dressed up, and when she finds her target, it takes about ten seconds for everything to end up on the floor of a motel room or pushed up around her waist.
Another thing I don't understand, she has me go into a bar first. Then in walks this vision of "I want to get fucked." Instead of checking out the field, she'll go straight to the scruffiest looking jerk in the place. It's like she has a radar attached to her ass. If there's a guy in that joint that hasn't had a bath in a week or more, a month of beard and has spent his life avoiding a barber chair, that's where she goes. And this has been going on for what seems like forever.
I need to explain how all this happened. My dominating wife is a master named Phyliss. My name is Mark, and I can guarantee, all those wonderful thoughts you had when you said, "I Do," forget about it....
Phyliss and I were hot for each other back in High School. She was the Brunette with great tits, flawless skin, a varsity cheer leader, in the band, and Homecoming Princess. She was even president of the debate team (that debate shit may be why I am what I am today).
I joined the Air Force fresh out of school, and so when I got my first leave, we got hitched. Married life was great. I knew every day what I was to wear to work, and Phyliss soon got a job at a Bank. We had a sex life that was full and exciting. We watched porn and tried all the positions, and I would swear Phyliss invented a few just for me.