Cuckolded
Cuckolded
A Cuckold Story 1
We were driving home from our mountain vacation spot after celebrating our tenth anniversary. As usual, boredom was quickly overcoming us. So, to pass time, we took out the pocket tape recorder, and recanted the story of one of our recent rendezvous’. The following is a transcript of that tale, and you can believe us, that trip passed very quickly. We hope that you enjoy the story nearly as much as we enjoyed experiencing it.
Ann: Tom and I have been happily married for about ten years, now. In that time we’ve never cheated on each other, but that doesn’t mean we never played around a little.
Tom: Or a lot. Let’s just say that we’ve been around the block a couple of times.
Ann: Yeah, from swinger’s clubs, S&M groups, lots of bi stuff…but it never really changed the way we feel about each other.
Tom: We’re the same people we’ve always been–Happy and as much in love today as we were the first time we met. But, when we say we play with other folk, that’s exactly what we do. We play!
Ann: It’s not like it’s real life or anything. The roles we get into sexually really have nothing to do with how we act in real life.
Tom: This is real life.
Ann: Okay…In play…Whatever…
Tom: We have jobs like everyone else. We have a family. We eat and sleep and laugh and fight and…
Ann: And make love.
Tom: Yeah…
Ann: And we fuck a lot, too.
Tom: Some real kinky stuff, too. That’s the best kind.
Ann: It lets you get outside of yourself. It let’s you experience feelings this uptight society would never allow. We love to play nearly as much as we love each other. And, we love to share new, erotic games with other people.
Tom: Yeah, like that scene last week with Michael?
Ann: Well…That was the only time I was really afraid of how you might act.
Tom: It was tight there for a little while. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it at first either. Man, for a minute there, I was really pissed.
Ann: But, it turned out good.
Tom: It always does.
Ann: You remember what happened?
Tom: How could I forget? It was only a week ago…
Friday evening had finally arrived. I worked a couple of hour’s overtime, and was thankful for finally getting away from the shop. The drive home seemed like an eternity. When I pulled into the driveway, I was a little upset at finding the house dark and empty. The weekend had begun at last, and my beautiful wife was nowhere around.
I walked in the front door, dropped my keys and wallet on the end table, and headed straight to call my baby’s cell phone. I was in no mood to wait around wondering where she had gotten off to.
The message light blinked on the answering machine. There was one message.
I pressed the play button. Ann’s sweet voice filled the room. She said, “It’s about time you got home. I waited as long as I could, and called your cell–No answer.”
I checked my cell phone–Dead battery.


“So, I decided to get started without you…I’m at the Holiday Inn. There’s some clothes laid out for you on the bathroom counter. There’s a door key there, too. Get cleaned up, and meet me in room 204…And, hurry. I have a surprise for you…Love ya. Bye.”
Of course, I wasted no time. In a moment, I was in the bathroom, and showered. I went for the clothes on the counter. There was a pair of baggy jeans, a loose fitting t-shirt and a blue g-string.
The jeans and the t-shirt probably wouldn’t be on very long. The g-string was a surprise. I’d never even touched one made for a man. Now, wearing one…
This was a bit unusual, but so was the idea of meeting my wife at a hotel.
Hesitantly, I stepped into the g. I pulled it up, and it felt tight and restricting. I’ve always worn boxers. This would be difficult to get used to. The string splitting my cheeks was uncomfortable, but I did start to feel a bit aroused. My dick pressed against the small triangle of cloth in front. I rubbed my hands across my bare ass cheeks. Erotic feelings and expectations soon took a front seat to the problems of wearing such a ridiculous piece of cloth.
I took one last look in the mirror before pulling on the jeans and t-shirt. I slid the key card into my back pocket, grabbed my wallet and car keys from downstairs and headed for the Holiday Inn.
My dick stayed hard all the way to the hotel, and up the stairs. I swiped the card key, turned the handle, and the door swung open.
I was ready for a surprise, but…
Well, nothing could have prepared me for this!
This had to be the wrong room. My thoughts flashed by in torrents of confusion.
I stood staring at the back of a very large and powerful black man. He was standing beside the king sized bed. He was naked. The well defined muscles of his back and legs were taught. His firm, round butt cheeks flexed rhythmically.
The black man straddled the paler, but tanned legs of a petit white woman that sat on the edge of the bed in front of him. I could see no more than her legs to the top of her thighs, but I didn’t need to be a psychic to realize what she was doing.
Despite the familiar beaded anklet, and the tattoo on the other ankle, I could not imagine her being my demure little wife. I looked at the key card, and then to the number on the door.
Excuses, lies and justifications swirled through my head like specks of dust in a whirlwind. This had to be the wrong room, or some other mistake. The alternative involved a host of questions I simply didn’t want to face.
Indecision became painfully uncomfortable.
As if on cue, the big man turned to look over his shoulder, and I heard Ann’s beautiful voice, flat and even telling me to “close the damned door” as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever taken place…Or ever would!
I stepped into the room letting the door close behind me.
The big, black man stepped back and to the side revealing my wife. She looked as lovely as ever. Her skin was a little flushed. Even now, her full, firm breasts seemed so inviting. The little, gold rings hanging from her nipples sparkled in the dim light. Her smile seemed mischievious, alluring, innocent and caring all at the same time. She held that massive black cock in her tiny hand, stroking the hardness slowly…
Man, I didn’t know which way to turn. I mean, how would you act if you saw your wife butt-assed naked with another man’s dick in her hand?
Ann: He makes it sound like I just decided to fuck some other man out of the blue, and then rub it in. But, that’s not how it happened at all! We’d talked about it beforehand and more than once, too.
It all started when I was online chatting with a coworker. Well, this coworker just happened to have a really big dick, and liked showing it off. Just as he pointed his web cam down toward his privates, Tom walked into the room.
Obviously, Tom must have been impressed. He got me to show my tits to my friend, but that’s about where it ended on that day.
Anyway, we talked about it for awhile. Then, one day he watched while I did some cyber stuff with a well endowed black man. And, it got pretty hot. It dominated our fantasies for the next couple of months.
I really got off on the idea of being fucked by a well built, black man, and Tom was getting into the cuckold humiliation thing.
Anyway, that’s how we got to this point. I just wanted to surprise him with the hottest mutual fantasy we’ve shared since the first time we made love.
Tom: That’s right, but even so, men are taught from early on to be possessive and prideful when it comes to women. It’s not something that can be brushed aside so easily. I mean, no matter how hot a fantasy may be, it’s not easy to just jump into a role on queue, without warning–especially when that role is so contrary to our everyday personalities.


Ann: But, you survived.
Tom: Barely.
I hadn’t decided how I should act, or how I should feel. As soon as I stepped into that room jealousy, anger and resentment kept trying to get the best of me. It pushed me to the edge of violence. Reason and the desire for answers pulled me back to reality. Still, I just stood there with my mouth open, and my hands at my sides with my palms turned out.
Ann: And, you looked so cute!
Tom: Please…
She never stopped smiling. “Don’t look so shocked. This is what you wanted,” she said matter of factly, and while still stroking that huge dick.
She was right. We had discussed this type of scene on several occasions. But, I never thought that it would ever be anything more than a late night fantasy discussed over a few too many beers.
I started to protest, but Ann cut me off before I got going. “You know you always wanted to watch me cum in the arms of a real man.”
The words stung, but were true. I looked up at the big, well-built man with his dark tool resting in my wife’s little hand.
As if reading my thoughts, again, Ann said, “Michael knows all about it.” In a sort of weird way she sounded so sexy…so hot…so alive.
I started to reply, but Ann cut me off once more. She seemed intent on not allowing me to mount a defense, nor even to salvage one single shred of self-respect.
She went on seeming more amused by the moment. “He knows how useless your little, pathetic, half-hard dick is to me. And, he knows what a worthless fuck you are. He promised to show me how a real man can please a woman.” She looked up at Michael, smiling longingly.
Michael chuckled and smiled back to her. “Yeah, Baby. I’ll give you what you need.”
The entire scene couldn’t have been more ridiculous if it wasn’t real. Ann leaned forward to kiss the tip of the huge slab of meat in her hands before turning back to me.
“Now, I’m going to fuck Michael, and you’re going to do whatever we tell you. You can watch…Maybe, you’ll learn something.”
I just stood there looking stupid. I hoped for a way out of this, a way that afforded me at least the illusion of pride.
Instead, I found only further humiliation. Ann had begun to kiss Michael around the groin area. Between gentle, loving little kisses she ordered me to strip down to the g-string, and then to fix some drinks.
I planned on doing anything other than playing this game. Unfortunately, the only protest I could come up with was to stand there and stare like an idiot.
I watched as my beautiful wife lovingly administered little kisses about this ebony stranger’s strong hips. I watched as her tiny white hand slid along that enormous black pole, and the other squeezed and caressed his rock hard glutes. I marveled at the contrast. Her small hands, her beautiful face, her smooth, creamy, supple skin seemed to encompass all that is feminine. His thick, firm torso, deep brown skin, and mahogany cock epitomize unyielding masculinity. Together, they were the personification of sexual desire and energy. They seemed the physical embodiment of erotic passion.
Michael’s deep, resonate voice interrupted my reveries. “Didn’t your wife tell you to make some drinks?” His voice was deep, confident, powerful and insistant..

