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After several years of occasional dates with the Gym Guy, two short-lived affairs and two visits to Chris in New York, I think Cheryl was ready to find a more regular lover. My wife had been bemoaning the fact that the Gym Guy was never available when she needed him and so she began to peruse the online personals hoping to find a new lover. After several duds and a couple of brief flings, things really heated up when Cheryl found the “Oakland Guy” who was a good ten years younger than my wife and me and had all the attributes my wife found desirable in a lover. He was tall, at about 6’4″, handsome and extremely muscular, just the kind of guy that Cheryl found irresistible.
The Oakland Guy had recently divorced and wasn’t looking for anything serious, just a friends with benefits type of arrangement. But what really drew Cheryl to him was his confident, some might say arrogant, attitude and his “bad boy” persona that encouraged my wife to shed her inhibitions and live out her dirtiest fantasies. And on their very first date, Cheryl returned home gushing about her new lover and telling me how “naughty” he was. Although my wife was no stranger to exhibiting herself in public, he’d convinced her to remove her panties no more than twenty minutes after they first met. And it wasn’t more than one drink later, that he had Cheryl flashing her bare pussy to several men in the bar, leaving my wife in an extreme state of sexual hunger. Cheryl and this guy then headed back to his house where they fucked almost the entire night and she didn’t get home until almost ten-o-clock the next morning.
When I eventually heard from Cheryl I’d been at work for several hours and I listened enviously for several minutes as she gushed about the Oakland Guy. Superlatives flowed from my wife’s mouth as she said he was “the best ever” and had “incredible muscles” and a “huge cock.” I was shifting uncomfortably in my chair as my wife when on and on and I knew that it was going to take quite the effort not to run to the restroom and masturbate once the call ended.
That night when I arrived home Cheryl picked up where she’d left off and I was again treated to a running discourse on how “fantastic” the Oakland Guy had been. I was extremely anxious to finally get a chance to masturbate but later that evening as we were preparing for bed, I looked pleadingly at Cheryl hoping she would get the hint. My hopes were dashed, however, when my wife said, “Honey, I’m seeing the Oakland Guy again this Friday. If you really need to, you can play with yourself, but maybe it would be good to wait. That way we’ll both be really horny for Friday. What do you think?”
The way Cheryl phrased her question I knew she wanted me to be patient as I reluctantly replied, “I’m good Sweetheart. Maybe after your next date?”
Cheryl seemed pleased with my acquiescence as she casually remarked, “Yeah, that sounds good. We’ll see how things go.”
I didn’t like the ambiguity in my wife’s response, but I kept my concerns to myself as we headed to bed. However, I did cuddle up next to Cheryl that night vainly pressing my semi-hard penis against her attempting to make sure she knew that I was doing everything she asked and that I was forgoing my sexual release just to please her.
The remainder of that week was a blur as I realized that almost two weeks without so much as touching my dick was much more difficult than I’d imagined. And it certainly didn’t help that Cheryl was constantly gushing about the Oakland Guy and how she couldn’t wait to see him and his “big cock” again. Cheryl and her new beau talked each night and my wife would come to our bedroom all hot and bothered after their conversations, but she refused my offers to lick her to orgasm, telling me she wanted to save herself for her new lover.
Eventually after an almost interminable week of frustration, Friday was upon us and as I knelt between my wife’s legs, carefully shaving her pink pussy, I sheepishly said, “Sweetie, I hope you have a great time tonight. But, uh…” My voice got caught in my throat for a moment before I resumed. “Uh, Sweetie. Maybe when you get home, I can masturbate. Would that be okay? I’m really horny.”
The minute I posed this question I knew I’d made a mistake. My wife was so caught up in lust for her new lover that discussing my sexual desires was clearly unwelcome. Cheryl’s previously cheerful mood vanished instantly, and she looked down at me with a scowl.
“Mike, c’mon! Can’t we just talk about that when I get home?” exclaimed my wife. Then in a somewhat bratty comment, Cheryl added, “I guess if you really need to play with yourself, just go do it. But I need to get ready for my date, so do it downstairs, okay?”
Later, when she wasn’t so caught up in anticipation of seeing the Oakland Guy again, Cheryl apologized for this outburst, but at the time it caught me off guard. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to do anything to spoil my wife’s evening, telling Cheryl I was sorry for whining and görükle escort that I’d wait until she got home from her date. And then, changing the subject, I asked her to list off my chores for when she was out.
Reciting the household tasks that needed to be done seemed to lift my wife out of her momentary funk and by the time I’d finished shaving her pussy and she was soaking in the tub, all was forgiven.
Later, I watched enviously as Cheryl dressed in a lacy garter belt and stockings ensemble before donning a pair of skimpy black panties, a short black skirt and sleeveless turtleneck top before sitting on the bed and directing me to slide a pair of black leather pumps on to her feet. My wife looked every bit the sexy seductress and when I told her she looked “really sexy” she smiled sweetly at me, apparently all thoughts of my earlier transgression forgotten.
As Cheryl was putting the last-minute touches on her lipstick and preparing to leave, I stayed quiet, soaking in the vision of my sexy wife dolling herself up for her new lover. However, I was startled out of my reverie when Cheryl asked, “Honey, can you get me my gold anklet? I want to wear it tonight.”
“Oh yeah, sure,” I answered as I sorted through my wife’s jewelry box until I found the anklet, I’d given her several years ago.
Then taking the anklet in my hands, I knelt at my wife’s feet to attach it around her ankle when she asked, “Do you really think that wearing an anklet lets people know I’m a hotwife?”
I was flabbergasted! I’d told my wife that many of the cuckold and hotwife websites insist that wearing an anklet is a sign of a hotwife, but she’d always pooh-poohed this idea. That said, I had bought Cheryl plenty of anklets over the years and she wore them occasionally, more so for the attention it attracted to her slim ankles and ubiquitous high heel shoes than anything else. But in answer to my wife’s question, I said, “I don’t know. Maybe some people think it means you’re a hotwife.” I then hesitated for a second before looking up at Cheryl and with a quiver in my voice, I asked, “What would you say if the Oakland Guy asked you about it?”
My wife developed a naughty grin as she replied, “Well, you wouldn’t want me to lie, would you?”
I trembled a bit at what Cheryl was implying as I nervously asked, “Would you tell him?”
Cheryl just giggled at my nervous response as she then floored me, replying, “I already did.”
I felt myself go cold at hearing this as I stammered, “Really? But, uh, why?”
Cheryl seemed to be almost enjoying my discomfort as she confidently declared, “Well…, he asked whether you knew about him. And I told him you knew I was seeing him but were okay with it.”
“Oh my God, Cheryl. I thought we agreed you’d pretend to be cheating,” I whimpered before Cheryl cut me off with a stern glare.
“C’mon Mike, quit being such a baby! The Oakland Guy knows all about guys like you. He said he loves fucking other men’s wives,” declared Cheryl, a smug smile forming on her lips.
“He said that?” I gasped, not quite believing that I was once again outed as complicit in my wife’s infidelities.
“Yeah, he did. He said he prefers to fuck married women. I think he really gets off on it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” I whimpered as I contemplated the turn things might take now that this guy knew the truth about Cheryl and me.
I guess my wife was still not willing to put up with any more of my whining as she snapped back, “C’mon Mike, quit it. It’s not like this’ll be the first time a guy knows you let me fuck around. You liked it with Chris, didn’t you? And you didn’t seem to mind it with Stephane either. It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
When I didn’t say anything in response, Cheryl took my silence as agreement as she then grabbed her coat and leaned down, proffering her cheek for a kiss as she said, “I’ll probably spend the night, so don’t wait up.”
After giving my wife a chaste kiss on the cheek, I then watched numbly as she exited the house, her high heel pumps clicking with each step as she strutted off. I stayed in the same position for several minutes as I still had not come to grips with this new revelation. But eventually, I lifted myself up and began to sort through the laundry, anxious to complete the first of my chores if only to keep myself occupied.
That entire night I was filled with anxiety as I pondered how this new chapter of our marriage would unfold. Even though we’d agreed to keep my knowledge of my wife’s infidelities to ourselves, Cheryl seemed perfectly fine with letting this new guy know all about how she cuckolds me. At first, I was somewhat angry that Cheryl had so readily disregarded my wishes in this regard, but as I thought about it more, I began to see things from my wife’s perspective. This way she didn’t have to lie and pretend she was cheating. If the Oakland Guy wanted to get together Friday or Saturday night, Cheryl didn’t have to come up with some elaborate excuse as to how bursa merkez escort she got out of the house, she could merely tell her new lover that I was home tackling the lengthy list of chores she’d left for me.
With this new viewpoint, I enthusiastically applied myself to finishing up my chores before drifting off to sleep, anxious to see my wife in the morning and to apologize for questioning her decision to disclose that I was her cuckold husband.
The very next morning I was up at dawn and I busied myself around the house preparing for Cheryl’s return. But at around three-o-clock in the afternoon I received a call from my wife telling me that she and the Oakland Guy were going to a club that night and she wouldn’t be home until Sunday. I listened to this news with disappointment, but Cheryl seemed oblivious to my unease as she said, “Maybe you can go see a movie or something tonight.”
A movie? I couldn’t believe my wife would think I wanted to go to a movie while she was enjoying a lusty weekend with her new lover. Nevertheless, I kept my thoughts to myself as I wished Cheryl well and told her to have a great time at the club.
That night I slept rather poorly as I really didn’t like having my wife spend the entire weekend with this guy after only knowing him a week. However, the thought that the Oakland Guy knew all about how Cheryl cuckolds me and how I was a willing participant in her infidelities gave me a certain thrill that was hard to describe. I wondered whether Cheryl would want me to ever meet the Oakland Guy? Would I be okay with welcoming him into our home like I’d done with Chris? The more I pondered these questions, the more muddled my thoughts became. On one hand, I was truly happy that Cheryl had found a new lover, someone that satisfied her seemingly inexhaustible sexual desires. On the other hand, I didn’t want my cuckold status rubbed in my face on a regular basis and I was concerned that this new guy might become a permanent fixture at our house if he was to ever spend the night.
As it turned out, Cheryl didn’t get home until almost three in the afternoon the next day and I was a nervous wreck all day as I waited for her arrival. Given that it had been quite some time since I’d last come, it’s fair to say my balls were swollen with desire and when I saw Cheryl’s car pull into the driveway, I felt my penis twitching in excitement. My wife entered the house wearing the same outfit she’d worn on Friday, minus the panties, stockings and garter belt. Her clothing looked a little worse for wear and when she handed me her bag, she said, “Mike, can you take care of the laundry in here and then come up to the bedroom to get these clothes? Everything needs washing.”
I took the bag from my wife’s hands and after placing it in the laundry room, I followed her up to our bedroom where she had already removed her skirt and top, leaving her naked except for her shoes. When Cheryl saw me staring at her, she teasingly giggled, “I’ve got a little present for you.” My wife then lay back on the edge of the bed and pulled up her knees to reveal her juicy pussy. As much as I wanted to masturbate at that very moment, I was also aware that Cheryl was in immediate need of attention and so I knelt down between her legs and was about to feast on my wife’s cunt when she said, “Mike, take off your clothes first.”
I hurriedly shucked off my clothes but before I could get back to my task, Cheryl grabbed her phone and snapped a couple of pictures of me standing before her, my penis hard as a rock and twitching helplessly. “These are for the Oakland Guy. He wanted to see how much bigger he is than you,” explained Cheryl as she then motioned me to kneel back between her legs. As I began to lap at my wife’s pussy, I tasted her lover’s salty load and I pushed my tongue deeper into her opening, hoping to coax more of his sperm to flow into my mouth. Suddenly, I felt Cheryl’s hands on my head as she pushed me back and held up her phone, saying, “Just a couple more.”
I couldn’t believe that my wife was intending to show her new lover that I’d lick her pussy after he filled it with his sperm! It was bad enough she was going to show him pictures of my penis, but this was going too far! I almost demanded that Cheryl give me her phone so that I could delete the pictures she’d already taken, but my desire to continue licking and sucking her juicy opening was overwhelming. And so, instead, I tried my best to smile as best I could, hoping to salvage some small speck of pride by showing I was enjoying my task.
Cheryl then took several pictures of me, my face framed by her thighs and with her lover’s semen and her copious juices smeared on my lips. My wife was as proud as a peacock as she gazed at me with a lusty grin before saying, “Okay, that’s enough.” Cheryl then placed her phone on the nightstand and reached down to guide my head back between her legs to enjoy my oral ministrations. I licked and sucked my wife’s pussy for almost bursa sınırsız escort fifteen minutes before she began to show signs of approaching her climax. And as I alternated probing her pussy and teasing her clit with my tongue, my wife’s breath began to come in short gasps, and she was soon shuddering in orgasm as I buried my tongue deep in her vagina.
Cheryl savored the afterglow of her orgasm as I placed soft kisses all over her pussy and when I finally removed my face from between her legs, I looked up to see a vision of pure contentment. I desperately wanted to make love to Cheryl at that moment and so I lifted myself up off the floor and climbed on to the bed next to my wife where I lay panting from my efforts. As Cheryl later confessed, she was feeling so good from my oral ministrations that she briefly thought to help relieve my throbbing erection, but after a passionate weekend with the Oakland Guy, she was beat and so she merely cooed, “Baby, why don’t you just play with yourself tonight.”
At the time I didn’t know any of the details of my wife’s weekend, but as I lay there besides Cheryl on the bed, I did feel an immense amount of satisfaction that I had given her such a great orgasm. Never mind that Cheryl didn’t seem interested in doing the same for me, what mattered was that my wife was in sexual nirvana. And why wouldn’t she be? With a handsome bull to see to her sexual needs and a loving husband to soothe her well-fucked pussy when she returned home, she was living the life of a princess. And as I took my penis in my hand I began to stroke to visions of Cheryl and her new lover. I lasted no more than thirty seconds or so before I began spurting my load. Cheryl seemed pleased that I was so quick and as I mopped up my semen with a tissue from the nightstand, she giggled, “You liked that, huh?”
The remainder of that day and that night as well, Cheryl didn’t seem to want to discuss her weekend with the Oakland Guy. And, in fact, it was Tuesday of the following week when Cheryl and I truly had a chance to discuss her budding relationship. Since my wife’s return from her lover’s house on Sunday, we’d spoken little of her escapades other than Cheryl casually mentioning that she and her new beau had swapped with another couple they’d met at a swing club on Saturday night. When my wife said this, my penis tingled in excitement and I desperately wanted to hear all the naughty details, but she shut me down, telling me she would tell me all about it later. Likewise, we didn’t talk much about the Oakland Guy other than Cheryl saying that he’d really liked the pictures she’d sent him, teasing, “He especially liked seeing the pictures of you licking my pussy. He said I’ve got you well trained.” I’m not sure what my wife’s lover meant by “well trained” but I let it go given that I was still embarrassed that this guy knew I ate the loads he left in my wife.
Other than these brief remarks, Cheryl and I acted like any other married couple, albeit one with a sexually frustrated husband and a wife with a hot, new boyfriend. But that Tuesday night after heading to bed early, my wife tentatively broached the subject of her new lover.
“Honey, you’re okay with me going out with the Oakland Guy again this weekend, aren’t you?” cooed Cheryl as she studied my face for my reaction.
Now, with all her gushing about “the best lover ever” and such, I had already assumed that my wife would be dating this guy regularly and so I just replied, “Oh yeah, sure. That’s fine.”
Cheryl seemed to have some misgivings however as she went on, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m ignoring you every weekend. You’re sure you don’t mind spending the weekend alone again?”
I realized it was my turn to reassure Cheryl as I asked, “What do you mean? You like fucking him, don’t you?”
“Oh, God yes! He’s like the best ever,” gushed my wife while giving me a guilty smile.
“Then what’s the problem?” I questioned, not really understanding my wife’s reservations.
“Well, I don’t know. Maybe I’m just a little nervous cause he’s so dirty. Maybe I should take things a little slower with him.” Cheryl then paused for a minute before lowering her eyes from mine and sheepishly confessing, “He’s kind of bossy. You know on Friday, he spanked me! He was mad because I wore panties on our date!”
Now this wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, time Cheryl found herself draped over a man’s knee on the receiving end of a sound spanking but the way she described the incident it seemed to have made a lasting impression. That said, I tried to downplay everything saying, “Yeah, but you’re been spanked by other guys.”
“Yeah, I know. But this was different. He actually seemed really upset and it kind of hurt,” confessed Cheryl while bashfully raising her eyes to see my reaction. My wife then paused, before softly whispering, “The whole time he was spanking me I could feel his big cock pressing against me and when he finished, he just told me to suck his cock.”
“And did you?”
My wife blushed again as she giggled, “What do you think? Of course, I did. He was so hard, and I just slid off his lap and got on my knees in front of him. I pulled his cock out of his pants and then just started sucking it.”
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