As my hotwife’s cuckold, I ride the edge with no cage and, never allowed to cum, I assist in fulfilling her desires. Her most accomplished lover is a cardiologist, a small man with a big cock who knows how to use it. All three of us are friends, and he instructs me how I can assist him.
“Get underneath her while she kneels forward doggy style and suck her clit,” he says, “while I explore her vagina from behind with my fingers.”
In this way, he identifies all her hot spots and shows me where they are.
She is beside herself when we do this, panting, “Please stop. I’m peaking here. I feel like a lab specimen.”
He grins, puts his cock halfway into her, discovers a good place, and shimmies. She yelps.
“Now you try,” he tells me.
“No!” she shouts. “He’s not allowed. Otherwise, he’ll lose it.”
“Oh, that’s right,” responds the doctor. “You need him on the edge.”
Amused, I retire to my chair to watch what happens next. He asks her to lie on her side. Carefully he inserts two fingers, finds what he’s looking for and presses down.
“Oh my God! How the hell do you do that? I’m seeing stars.”
“Don’t worry, dear,” he reassures her. “You’re just very hot.”
“Then, fuck me NOW for God’s sake! I can’t take this anymore. And keep him out of it,” she cries, pointing at me.
On her back, she spreads her legs wide, encouraging him. He enters without hurry, using his cock to find and touch each hot spot. By this time, she is on the ceiling, crying rapturously. Deep inside her, he inexplicably does not cum, then withdraws. I am strangely unaffected by all this. Somewhat clinical, I think.
“It’s what she needed,” he declares.
“What do you want, my friend?” I inquire.
Hesitating, he answers, “A loving, warm heart.”
I wonder what I want.
—
We have twins, a boy and a girl, away in college. They love us dearly, but have no idea what we do in private – that their mother has become a hotwife and their father a cuckold. In the empty nest, we just wanted to spice up our marriage, and it turned into this. Bored, she had an affair with a colleague on a business trip, which awakened desires she didn’t know she had; while I, having been made a cuckold, wondered what it would be like to live as one. We decided to explore these things with certain which rules I’ve already described.
Our first encounter astonished me – how turned on she was and how humiliated yet excited I became. It was intoxicating. I remember one especially, which solidified the way forward for us. We met him at the bar of our favorite tavern. He was a farmer, her age, and a champion harness racer. She was an accomplished horsewoman with many ribbons, and fell for him immediately. They talked racing and horse shows like I wasn’t there, but I could see their chemistry building.
“Would you like to come home with us?” she asked.
Nodding, eyes gleaming, he replied, “You lead, I’ll follow.”
Driving home, his flatbed truck behind us, we discussed the details of this assignation.
“I’ll get you ready, then you take it from there,” I offered.
In the house, we led him to the bedroom.
“Let’s all get comfortable,” she suggested, undressing down to her basic black underwear, he to his white jockey shorts and I to my blue thong.
“I’ll prepare her while you two get to know each other,” I said, going between her legs to slip off the panties, and lick her pussy and clit whilst he unfastened the bra and kissed her face and neck.
“You have beautiful breasts,” he observed, caressing one and pinching the nipple of the other.
She admired his well-built body and engorged member curving up just the way she liked it.
Glowing with desire and kissing his balls, she said, “That cock looks like it needs to be sucked,” which she did wantonly.
“Use your teeth just under and around the head,” he responded. “Ahhh, just like that.”
I could hear the slurping.
“She’s ready.” I announced, moving away so he could present his hard, erect cock to her soaking pussy, sliding it along through the folds.
“Does that feel good?”
“Ohhh, yesss,” she hissed.
Then, he inserted the head into her and started to cum.
“No!” she shouted.
That stopped him, and he wiped away his little accident with a tissue.
“Take your time, please,” she admonished him.
Apologizing, he slowly slipped in all the way, moving gently but with intent. It was exhilarating, and also disconcerting, to see someone else besides me inside my wife fucking her. Not knowing quite how to react, I circled the bed listening to their moans and his balls slapping against her as he moved deftly with long, firm thrusts. When I returned to her side, he doubled his effort as she keened and clawed his back passionately. I wondered if she would reach orgasm, so I caressed her breasts and pinched her nipples. The tension built between them. Now, he was fucking her with abandon, trying to reach his release.
Suddenly, clenching her whole body and shivering, she wailed a long, lingering, “Ohhh, my Gaawd!!” It was an otherworldly scream unlike any I have ever heard. At the same time, he emptied all he had into her, crying as he did so. I did not know whether to weep or applaud. All three of us just lay there exhausted in different ways.
“That was indescribable, unparalleled,” she said quietly, looking at me,
“It was awesome,” I responded stiffly.
I gestured to him if he wanted to do it again.
“One like that and I’m done,” he replied.
All of us got dressed. On the way out, he kissed her mouth with ardor. She kissed him back, stroking his cheek.
Clapping me on the shoulder, he said, “See, old man, I think I can do your wife better than you can,” and went off in his truck.
She was glowing and satisfied in a way she never was with me, even though her lip was swelling from his last kiss.
Staring at me, she said, “I want more of that. As much as I can get.”
I knew then and there our lives would never be the same and, in a weird sort of way, I wanted it to happen.
—
After my workout run, I am in my chair wondering what I need for myself, not her. She descends the stairs and sits on my lap.
“Since becoming your hotwife, am I too self-absorbed?” she asks.
“You are,” I say.
She lifts her dress and straddles my leg. I feel her warm, naked pussy sliding there, as she seldom wears underwear anymore except to go out.
“I ran into Bob the other day in the park. He saw the gold ring on my ankle and wants me. I told him to come over. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course,” I answer.
Bob is my best friend who has always had a thing for my wife. We are colleagues at the university where we are professors. My wife works remotely from home for a pharmaceutical company. She reaches into my shorts, cupping my balls. My cock comes alive instantly. She takes it out and climbs on, rocking to and fro, rotating her hips.
“I want to hear you, but don’t you dare cum.” she threatens.
Knowing what happens if I do, I control myself and, eyes rolled back, a primitive, guttural sound gurgles from my throat.
“Yes, just like that,” she approves and withdraws.
“He’s here,” she says, smoothing out her dress to greet him at the door, and retiring to the couch.
Bob is a handsome, athletic man and we often run together. Nodding to me, he approaches sheepishly and kisses her. Their tongues entwine. She pats the cushion next to her, inviting him to sit. Leaning back, she lifts her dress again, holds up her left leg and hooks the other around his knee. He reaches over, fingering and opening her slippery pussy, massaging her clit. She lies back, scrunches her face and cums for him.
“Wow, she’s fast!” he exclaims to me.
“Especially when she knows I’m watching,” I add.
“Take me,” she says.
Inside, he pumps away to a rising crescendo of sighs and long groans until, grunting softly, he spills his seed.
When things quiet down, he asks, “Was that good for you?”
She responds, “You were ok, but we need more time together to get it right.”
Rising, he replies, “I will make that happen.”
Turning to me, shaking my hand, he says, “Your wife is extraordinary! See you on campus,” and departs.
She moves toward me, once more sitting on my lap, and putting her arms around my neck, kisses my forehead. Looking directly into my eyes she affirms, “Please understand how much I appreciate what you do for me, and that I love only you.”
Embracing her waist, my head on her shoulder, I say, “I know.”
—
After breakfast one morning, I confront my wife. “I’ve been thinking about what I need, not just you.”
“It’s always been about you, my darling,” she responds.
“What do you mean?”
“Didn’t our doctor friend tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“When you ejaculate, you lose some of your life. The French call it the little death.”
What about you?” I ask.
“When I orgasm, that force stays inside me, adding to my strength. Whereas in your case, it spills away, depleting you.”
“Come to think of it, after cumming I do feel rather empty and tired.”
“You see? I want you to be strong and live long for me, our children, and your work.”
“What about your lovers?”
“I use them, they don’t use me.”
“But I want you too.”
“You can have me on the edge anytime you like with more pleasure than they’ll ever get because for you, it never goes away.”
“Show me,” I challenge her.
She opens my pants, pulls out my throbbing penis, strokes, kisses and caresses it. Sucking its head, she swallows the whole thing down her throat, teeth nibbling its base in my pubic hair. Gulping and moving back and forth, she brings me to the very edge, then backs off, spewing a stream of saliva and pre-cum.
“My God, no wonder they come after you!” I exclaimed.
“Good boy! You didn’t cum. True celibacy is a lost art. Now take your pants down and bend over the kitchen counter, so I can spank you to remember what you need to do.”
I comply.
Content and smiling, squeezing my balls, she enthusiastically smacks my bare ass repeatedly with a large, plastic spatula.