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LOVING WIVES

The Cuck 1

The Cuck 1

by jay_cameron
12 min read
2.75 (23600 views)
adultfiction

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.

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As all my Vet friends know, "Uncle Sugar" can't waste time on how wonderful your life is, if he would just leave you alone. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. I got orders for a one-year remote assignment. And that's when the fun and games began.

Phyliss and I had aways been able to communicate well with each other. Shortly after we got married, I realized there was very little reason to get into an argument with her. As hard as I tried, I never came out on top. Don't think for a minute this woman had lost any of her debating skills; she hadn't.

We had discussed my needs and her needs, while we were away from each other. We agreed that neither of us would hold back the truth.... you know, if something might happen.

The first letter I got from home was filled with pictures.... sexy pictures. She told me how much she missed me and how lonely she was. She got together with a few of the wives that were in the same spot she was in. Before I knew it, she was writing about how one of hers co-workers at the bank came on to her; but she said she stopped that right away. I had my doubts.

Less than a month later, I got another batch of pictures. One thing I noticed, some of the photos were not selfies. How could she take a naked selfie with her on the couch from ten or fifteen feet away. Both of her hands were holding up her tits. I was furious! I was so mad, I almost clocked my roommate; and he was my best friend, at the time. I skipped chow, got drunk as hell, and went to bed.

I was out pretty quick, but at around three hours into my sleep, I woke up, sweating like hell. I was having a dream. Not the regular boy meets girls dream, or the dream where you are drinking a huge chocolate malted at the drug store. It was the dream where all the men on the base back home, were waiting in line to fuck your wife (my wife in this case). But that's not the crazy part; I was awake with my boxers soaking wet from cum. Holy shit! I had a wet dream with my wife fucking my buddies. The real kicker about the whole thing was I must have liked it because I still had a dick as hard as a rock.

Two days later, I was scheduled to have face time with her. You know, half the Air Force is watching your call, so I was careful not to show my anger, or whatever it was. But, just before the call ended, she had made all her "I love you, miss you, and can't wait till you get home, when I asked, "Who took that last batch of pictures?" I swear I could see her face turn five shades of white from twelve thousand miles away. Before she could even say "uhhh," I ended the call.

I had friends who had gone through the same pain I thought I was suffering. The morning after I woke up with cum filled shorts, I spent the day trying to decipher what was going on in my mind. That was when I sat down and wrote her a letter about how I understood what she was going through. I made it clear that I still loved her no matter what. If she only knew how much I missed her, and how much I loved her. I told her that I couldn't jump in bed with the girls I worked with, but I was building up strength in my right arm. In the letter, which was in the mail before the face time call, I begged her not to fall in love with some jerk; at least give me a chance when I got home.

Time never stops for anyone, so I had to wait it out. I know there was hardship leaves and other ways to get home, but I didn't know for certain I wanted to face her right then. As Ricky said you Lucy..."youse got a lot of splainin' to do...."

I thought on the flight back to the states, I knew what I was flying into. She would rush into my arms, I would profess my love, and the last year would become a memory. Not so quick there Hortense.... that's not what was going to happen.

In my infinite wisdom, I was able to get any earlier flight home. No need sitting around waiting, so I hooked up with a transport that was heading my way, and off I went...three days early.

Hope I never have that brain-fart again. Stopping to offload whatever they were carting around the world, refueling stops, and Holy Mother of God, it was cold.

Another brain-fart I will never have again, don't try to surprise an unfaithful wife ... you just might be the one getting the surprise. When all the check-in was done and dusted, there was a helpful AP offering to take me to where I could get a cab. My talkative friendly cab driver pulled up to the front door at around twenty-three-thirty, (eleven-thirty to real humans). The house was dark, except for the family room in front. I actually stood outside on the sidewalk, starring at the house. The first thing that came to mind, was not my wife, but the lawn needed mowing.

The garage for this sick looking rental was in the back of the house, so there was no entrance accept through the front door. I retrieved my trusty key from my pocket, I had been holding for just short of a year and opened the front door to a big surprise for my wife. Oops.

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It wasn't the surprise I had planned. Standing on her knees, naked as a jaybird, in front of the sofa, was my wife. At that moment, she had in her mouth the cock of a man I had never seen before. He was tall, a little short but thick in the equipment department. Oh, yes, and he was bald.

I guess you can say I scared the hell out of him, because when I swung at him (and missed) he got the idea I was pissed. My wife was yelling at me to stop, and Baldy made his escape into the garage without his clothes. When I heard the garage door closing, I went numb. I stopped fighting. I couldn't believe what was going on while I was away. This jerk was a regular visitor to my house. My loving wife gave him a clicker so he could not only park his dick in her pussy but could also park his car in the garage to MY home.

The shock to my system was dramatic. I fell back onto the floor like a limp rag. Everything was gone. There was no surprise, there was no loving, there was no happy greeting or celebration. Everything was destroyed in one moment. I don't know how long I laid there on the floor, but I felt so impotent. If I tried to comprehend what had just happened, I couldn't. My mind was so fucked up, I couldn't even think.

The Air Force waits for no man. I explained my situation to my Top, and she understood and so until my enlistment was up, I would only be going TDY or short assignments, but I would still be leaving my wife alone at home.

We had moved into separate rooms, and I took care of the house and even got laid once in a while, but not by my wife. Turns out the guy she was fucking was the dude that owned the bank. She also was doing the nasty with one of the other employees, but I never saw him. Oh, I heard them a lot. She found out she could go to a local bar and pick up some tough guy and he would knock her around a little. She found out she liked the hair pulling and the choking. She was just your average slut that even though we seldom spoke a civil word to each other, I still in my heart of hearts loved her.

Then something happened that no one, least of all me, could expect. Covid happened. I had a job that was considered essential. So, every day I left the house and did my duty. Uncle Sam taught me well. I had to go to work every day, but she had to work remote. I hate to admit this, but I tried to get Covid. I lied about getting the vaccine, I even went to the hospital to visit someone that had Covid. As hard as I tried, I couldn't catch a fucking cold.

That's when my slut-loving wife started to get horny. I woke up early one morning and she is humping away on my morning-wood. It was pretty damn good too.

So that was the beginning of the best year of my life. I would come home, and my wife was on me like stink on shit. I have to admit it was really, really good.

Remember how I said she was president of the debate team? Well, if they had a team for conniving bitches, she would be head of that one too. She began working on me right out of the box. By the time Covid was winding down, she had me right where she wanted me. I was no longer her husband... I was her pimp. She loved it. All she had to do was wiggle that little finger, and she had a cock in every hole. All I could do was smile and say..."Yes, Dear."

"Do you like watching me suck his cock?"

"Yes, Dear."

"Do you like watching my boss fuck my ass?"

"Yes, Dear."

"Do you like......."

You get the idea. I am just a weak, spinless, shadow of a man. I wouldn't be surprised if I'm so useless I couldn't even cast a shadow. But I know there will come a time.... just maybe. I will crawl out from under this witch of a woman and find that I can be a man again. I know the day will come; I won't put up with being her laky. If there is such a day in my future.... I can't wait.

End

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