Yes, I’m Myla’s cuckold. We’re not that unusual; there are a fair amount of modern-day cuckolds; they’re the ones that know they’re cuckolds; if you add the old definition of unknowing cuckolds, even more. Reading some cuckold forums, most of the men there pretend they enjoy it all. I can’t believe that they are all so enthusiastic. Yes, at some level, the high I get is worth the anguish. I have been with Myla when she’s gone off with men we just met, and I’ve been in the house while she’s being fucked, but I’ve never been allowed to watch while she fucked them.
The first time it happened, we were out of town, and we were at a club at our hotel. Austin was on a business trip and approached her when I was at the bar getting drinks for us. We’d talked about Myla picking up men for a few years, and she finally told me, ”I’m going to quit just talking about other men; we’re going to do it. During our San Francisco vacation, I’m going to be looking.”
She hesitated and said, “I’ve been thinking about it and I think when I do it, I want to be alone. I’ll be uncomfortable if you’re watching, so we’ll do it in his room, just the two of us. ”
She wants to be alone? I won’t be able to see it happen. I want to watch, see her being fucked! She just needs to be comfortable and after a few times, then she’ll let me. I can live with that. I think.
When I came back to the table, she was talking to Austen, “Yes, I’d like that; my husband Troy, doesn’t much enjoy dancing.” She looked at me and said, “Oh, here you are. Austin came by and asked me for a dance. Is it okay?”
I could tell from her expression she was thinking about him as her first lover. He was attractive, and I couldn’t trust myself to say yes, so I just nodded.
It seems she’s serious about starting on our vacation. The only question was, is she going to his room or use ours? If she uses ours, where does that leave me? Maybe she’s changed her mind and will let me be there? I hope so. I’m feeling sick to my stomach, but my cock is hard. I’m confused; which is it? Horney because she’s going to do it or sick because she’s going to do it?
The band changed to a slow dance, and they were dancing close together with Myla’s head on his shoulder. I could tell they were talking, and I saw Austin nod a few times and then hold her closer. When the band moved to a second, slow dance, I saw Austin kiss Myla’s lips and she kissed him back. She nodded, and they came back to our table.
I know why they are coming here; she’s agreed to fuck him tonight. That’s what we both want, but just but. Can I do it? Let her go off with Austin and fuck him? Without me? God, I don’t know.
They walked up to the table, and both stayed standing. Austin seemed embarrassed, but Myla smiled at me, casually smiling at me. “Troy, darling, Austin and I are going up to our room to be alone for a couple of hours. I want you to give him your room card so he can let us in, and then I want you to tell him that you’re okay with it. Tell him you want him to fuck me there. When he leaves, I’ll text you to come up.”
I didn’t expect this. I have to permit him to fuck my wife? I have to tell him that? It’s not just that I know about it, but I have to tell him it’s okay for them to fuck.
I tried to smile back at Myla and Austin, saying, “Austin, Myla, and I’ve talked about this. She wants to fuck you, and I want you to do it. I want you to screw her any way she wants.”
I almost threw up afterward. My cock was hard as a rock. I got my card key and handed it to him. He became more relaxed and gave her a passionate kiss that was returned with interest. Anyone watching must have known what was happening; a cuck was letting his wife go upstairs with her lover.
I sat there with my eyes closed so I wouldn’t watch them leave the club. When I opened my eyes, I could see a couple of tables had seen what had happened and were talking about it. There were some secret smiles as they glanced at me.
Hell, I’m a cuck now. Soon, at least. I’ll deserve the derision I’m getting. I can tell my cock is leaking. My mind hates what Myla is doing, but my cock is enjoying it. What are they doing? Are they in the elevator alone and kissing, or are there other riders, and they’re having to wait for Austin to let them into our room?
I walked to the bar, then decided a drink wouldn’t help. My mom’s family—all three brothers—were alcoholics. I didn’t need that, and I’d decided I’d never drink if I felt I needed one. This was the perfect example, so I just got a soda and sat there.
What is she doing? What is Austin doing? By now, Austin has undressed Myla, and she’s in front of him, naked. God, he’s touching her tits with his hands, or is he kissing them? For sure, she’s been kissing him.
I knew that was going to happen, but I thought I’d be watching them, protecting her. Instead, I’m here, sitting at a bar, drinking ginger ale. I should go up there and interrupt them. Kick Austin’s ass; not sitting here wondering if she’s okay.
Shit, that’s why she made me give him my room card. So I can’t just interrupt. Hell.
By this time, I was in a fugue state. I was in agony and all I could do was play the movie with Myla being fucked and enjoy it. She was sucking his cock and then instantly she was being fucked doggy-style and screaming out his name: “Austin, get your cock in my ass; it’s wonderful, I never knew it could be so good.” Then the movie changed to Myla riding him, saying, “Your cock is so big, it’s filling me up. This is so much better than Troy. Fuck me, screw me, I’ll do anything for you.
Then suddenly he’s making love to her, kissing her, tenderly playing with her tits, and his cock is moving slowly in her pussy. She’s moaning, making noises of satisfaction, and saying things about loving him.
I suddenly realized I had a text from Myla. All it said was: Come up. I’m alone now.
I looked at my phone and saw it’d been over two hours—way over. I had to take a few minutes to get my bearings and leave the bar. I slowly went to the elevator and went to our room, where the door was pulled to but not closed. Myla was wearing a red peignoir that I’d thought she’d brought for me, very sexy.
When I entered the room, all she said was that it was the most exciting sex she’d ever had. Then she hugged me with her tits pressed against my chest. She murmured to me, “He came in me, and I’d like you to … God, Troy, can you lick my cunt? God, I want you to taste his cum. Please.”
I walked up to her and kissed her.
Troy, you’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to lick his spunk out of her; you know you will. Now, will she let you fuck her and mix your cum with his? Hell, Troy.
I forced her back against the bed so she was lying there on the edge with her cunt right there for me to kneel on the floor and lick everything up. It was a little slimy and a little salty, but not terrible.
A lot of women enjoy the taste; they say they do, at least. If they can, I can too.
When all the taste was gone, I stood, dropped my pants, and released my cock. I didn’t allow her to object. My cock slipped into her well-seasoned cunt and started fucking her. I could tell she was slippery and my cock felt no resistance at all as I was doing her. This is what they mean by slippery seconds. The thought that Austin’s cum was inside her was arousing, and I came in just a few minutes. I collapsed on her when I came. We shifted so I could hold her and I lay there holding her tits.
Four days later, we spent the day at Golden Gate Park exploring the Japanese Tea Gardens and the Academy of Sciences. Afterward, we went to Fisherman’s Wharf for dinner. After dinner, we sat in a bar on the second floor, overlooking the wharf. It was a nice sight, but I could see Myla looking at a well-dressed guy sitting at the end of the bar. I thought he was nothing extraordinary, but Myla had a different opinion.
She leaned over to whisper, “Honey, I want, um, … can you sit alone at the bar for a bit? I want to see if the guy at the end of the bar will approach me if I’m alone. You know Austin isn’t the end of the road.” She smiled at me and continued, “I’m looking for an all-nighter this time.” She frowned at me, saying, “I want you to leave me like I turned you down. Then stay at the bar and if he comes over, well, we’ll see.”
She wants to do it again. She wants him and there’s no way I’m going to be invited to watch. Is this the way it’s going to be? She sees someone and I just get out of her way.
We don’t even know where he’s staying. The only way it’s going to happen is if she goes with him and I go to the Hyatt by myself, God, until she’s tired of being fucked. Why do I even think about it, Troy? I know I’m going to do what she wants.
I got up with a forced smile and walked to the bar, a few stools down from Mr. Good-looking, and got a second glass of wine. He looked at me with a glance of commiseration, stood up, and walked to Myla’s table.
They talked for a bit with him standing, and then he sat next to her. He picked up her hand, kissed it, and said something. I was imagining the witty repartee passing between them. And then I knew there was some sexual innuendo going on because I saw Myla blush. There was some dancing music, and he stood, took her hand, and led her to the dance floor. She put her hands around his neck and pressed against his chest. Her tits squeezed against him.
I could hear him in my mind telling her how beautiful she was and how he wanted to get to know her better, with some stress on the word know. Their dancing slowed as he kissed her and stopped as she kissed him back. It was almost obscene what they were doing, but no one else seemed to notice anything.
His hands seemed to move quickly over the front of her dress, barely touching her tits. I could see her shiver and then move his hands onto her tits and press them there.
Myla was talking earnestly with him, and I could see she was saying yes. He kissed her with his hands, caressing her tits.
They paid the bartender and eased out the door.
Was he telling her what he was going to do to her in his room, or was she telling him what she wanted him to do to her? She was in a place that would let him do anything to her. If I could think of it, she would do it for him.
She’s going to be naked before I get to our hotel. She may already be fucked by then.
Then I got a text from Myla. Hi Troy, Bill is getting his car, so I have a minute. We’re going to his hotel to have fun. He asked if I could stay the night, and I told him my husband was home with the kids, so yes. He intends to keep me busy all night; God if he can!
I’ll be back before 10:00 in the morning; I told him I have an appointment then. Well, I do with you. Anyway, when I get back, I may not be able to walk. God, I hope so. Ciao.
That took care of that. She was going to be with a guy named Bill. Last name? I don’t know. What kind of car? I don’t know. Where is he staying? I don’t know. Jesus, you don’t know anything, do you?
What the hell? If something happens, I need something—anything to tell the police and our family.
Getting info ready for the police when we find out Bill is a mass killer. So, last name? Kind of car? The hotel where he’s staying? And where is he from? Please respond.
What the H is happening to Myla? What are they doing? Answer me, please. My wife is being fucked right now, and my problem is that I’ll be embarrassed if something happens. I’m pathetic.
When I got to the hotel and our room, I got ready for bed and lay there for a while, picturing what they were doing. I finally reached for my cock and touched it. It jumped with my touch, and my vision of Myla with Bill cleared. She was on the bed naked, with Bill poised over her, about to enter her cunt. God, it was her cunt in my mind.
Somehow I could see it approach her cunt and slowly slip inside, and I heard her say, “Oh, Bill, that is wonderful.” I saw a smile of bliss as she accepted his cock.
Suddenly my vision changed, and she was on top, riding him with his hands on her tits. She was screaming, “Yes, yes, pinch my tits, pull on my nipples, God yes.” She stiffened and then collapsed on him. “That was the most intense climax. Ever. Bill, you’re wonderful. Troy, ah.”
When I heard my name, my cock erupted all over my stomach. I lay there for a minute and I started rubbing it into my skin like lotion.
I lay there, thinking about what I’d seen, and gradually fell asleep. When I woke at around three, I couldn’t stand to think about what Anna was doing. I forced myself to think about work until I finally went to sleep. Anna came in at around nine, and I’d showered and dressed and was waiting on the bed.
She looked worn out and well fucked. “I’ve got to get a shower and then some sleep. He didn’t keep me up all night, but, well, almost.” As she started to undress, she added, “Um, the marks on my tits, I asked for them during our second go-round, or maybe our third. Troy, was that exciting.”
With that, I had to leave. “Okay, well, I have to get breakfast and it looks like you’re too exhausted, so I’ll get some in the restaurant while you shower and get some rest. Text me after your shower when you’re ready for me to come back.”
Yes, we’d talked about her having lovers, but not this. She gets explosive sex while I wait and imagine what they’re doing. It’s not … it’s not fair.
I ate breakfast and went for a walk. And there were several galleries nearby, which I visited. I’d ‘accidentally’ turned my phone off after breakfast, and around noon, I turned it on. No calls, no texts, no anything. I guess she’s still sleeping, or maybe she went down and found someone. God, did she arrange for Bill to meet her at our hotel?
Okay, the phone is off again. Whatever she wants is fine; I’ll spend some time at the Embarcadero and walk around there.
I went through the Ferry Building, where there were a lot of interesting shops that Anna would have loved to see. Then I went down to the Exploratorium, which I found interesting. Finally, as the shops were closing, I turned the phone back on and found a couple of texts and three calls. Without checking them, I texted her, saying I was at the Embarcadero exploring. And I would get a cab and return if she was up to it.
After about ten minutes,. I got a text saying she would wait for me at the hotel bar.
Okay then, what do I say to Myla? Do I want to tell her I don’t like the humiliation of being second best or not even in the rankings? Some men like that, but I don’t. Knowing she’s being screwed is hard enough.
When I went into the bar, Myla was sitting at a table off to one corner with a glass of wine. I waved to her, went to the bar, got a glass of Merlot wine, and joined her.
“Did you get enough sleep this afternoon?”
Inauspicious beginning. It doesn’t transition into anything helpful. Well, that’s what I said.
“Yes, but where did you go? I’ve been waiting since noon for you to check in.”
“Well, the way you talked when you got back from Bills, I thought you’d be sleeping and reliving your tryst till late afternoon.“
Myla almost shouted. “What the hell.”
I looked at her coldly, saying, “If you’re going to shout, let’s have dinner, and we can talk in the room if you please.”
I stood and offered her my hand, which she refused, and we went into the restaurant.
Well, I’m having a wonderful time, that’s for sure. I’m pissed because I can still hear her saying that he was a better fuck than me. I refuse to remember; it was in my imagination. What an asshole, Troy.
I’ve been working on her to screw other men for years; well, she’s doing it, and now I’m complaining?
“I’m sorry.“ I said, “Myla, it’s my imagination. When you were with, um, Bill, I heard you say things about me. Denigrating things about me as a lover. I couldn’t get them out of my mind. Hell, this is harder than I thought.”
“If this is what you’re like from your imagination,” Myla responded, “I’m not sure you could tolerate watching. Are you able to continue what we’d planned? We agreed that we’d use the vacation to explore the, uh, lifestyle, the Hot Wife lifestyle. We’ve got three days left, and I’ve done two, but we can stop here. Permanently.”
I got her to do it. I’m not going to screw it up now; no way, no how!
“No, don’t stop, Myla; I’ll be good, I promise.”
Well, we are talking about it down here; this is what I wanted, it’s what I said I wanted and damn it, and picturing her with those cocks impairing her still turns me on. Despite the pain. God, maybe it’s because of the pain.
“Don’t react like that again, Troy. Once is enough, but don’t do it again. You wanted it to happen, don’t act like I did something wrong when I do it. Okay?”
The next day at dinner, as we were finishing dessert, she glanced around and leaned toward me. “Um, Troy, are you ready to do it again? If you are, there’s a guy by that arch, and he’s been eying me. I want you to approach him and tell him that your wife wants to fuck him. No, you won’t be able to watch, but if you’re willing to continue, I want you to invite him to our room to screw me, just the two of us.
“Give him your room card and send him over. I want you to stay at his table while we go up. You can wait in the bar until we’re done. If you’re serious, that is.
She’s trying to make it as hard as she can. Humiliate myself in front of this stranger. God, it’s working.
It took a few moments before I could stand and join him. I asked if I could sit down. “My wife noticed you sitting here alone, and she told me to approach you and ask; um, she wants me to invite you to take her up to our room, um, take her up to our room, just the two of you, and fuck. I’m her cuckold, and she wants you, I want you to screw her.
“Her name is Myla and if you’re willing, I’ll give you our keycard and you go over to her and I’ll wait here.“ I put the card on the table and looked at him.
“I just take your card and go over there and she’ll go with me and we can fuck? You’re kidding?”
I tapped the card, saying, “No, I’m not. She sent me over here to ask you and she intends to for it to happen. So, it’s up to you. Yes, I give you the card, and you get to fuck her. “No, and I pick the card up and you don’t.” I felt dizzy as I finished saying that.
He picked up the keycard and looked at me and then at Myla before standing up. He walked up to her and spoke to her. And then he sat down. When he spoke to her again, he looked at me with a grin, leaned toward her, and kissed her. Myla reached down and moved his hand to her tit, and she smiled at him while replying.
The couple at the table next to Myla’s table were whispering to each other and then the guy there laughed and I saw his wife blush; I could lip-read her saying, “You’re sure?” With a look at me.
They knew, at least he did.
Myla and the guy continued talking with Myla, nodding yes several times. When they stood up, the guy walked to me and told me, “If you’re wondering who is fucking your wife, my name is Paxton. I’m going to enjoy her; we’re both going to enjoy it, Troy. Count on it. While you’re down here, I’m going to be upstairs, balls deep in Myla’s cunt. When I cum in her, we’ll be thinking of you; not much.” Then he grinned and turned to Myla and they left.
God, I had to pay for Paxton’s dinner as well as ours. I’m paying so he can fuck her.
When I went back to the bar, I sat there, imagining what she was doing—at least what I thought they were doing.
He’s not the type to take any time; he had her naked before they were in our room I can see her stepping inside with his hands on her tits; god, her hands are on his cock, and I can hear her saying, “Your cock is beautiful like this, in my hands. It’ll be even better when it’s in my cunt. Poor Troy, he never gets to fuck my cunt like this. God, he never has taken me like this. But if he’s never had it, he won’t miss it, will he? I want your cum in my cunt.”
Now I’m seeing her on the bed with her legs wide apart; then suddenly she’s riding him and she saying things, I can’t hear, but it’s driving him wild and he gives one hard thrust and I see his cock throbbing in her. “It’s filling me up, Paxton; there’s so much cum. It’s glorious; I never knew I could feel this way.
The images came and went, and the noises started and finished. I could smell his cum in the room. The pain and the satisfaction I had from knowing she was enjoying what he was doing.
I was still imagining what they were doing when I got her text to come up. When I got there, the bed was hastily put back together, and she’d had a shower. She’d used an air freshener, but I still got whiffs of his cum.
She greeted me with a kiss and said, “In the morning, I want you. Not now, Troy, in the morning, when I’ve recovered.”
On our drive home, I was trying to get my head around what we’d done, and I didn’t like it. Or did I?
Or did I? If I didn’t, why was I subjecting myself to the pain and humiliation?
