A True story:
As we sat, curled up on our plush brown sofa, watching TV – I felt paralyzed.
“Did you delete Christian’s text about the sitting around the fire?”
Fuck. The back of my throat began to close up. This was a reckoning.
Josie and I had been having such an amazing few days. Cocktails out downtown. Sex most mornings. Walks by the lake. Ever since Josie had said we needed to spend more time together, I had been doing my best to find ways to make sure that happened. And had been loving the results. I felt like we were reconnecting in a way we hadn’t in months.
But in that moment, sitting on the couch together, I felt like I had just fucked up all of it. It came over me like a wave. That horrible feeling – where you know you had good intentions – but somehow is steered horribly off track.
“Have you been deleting other texts from Christian?”
I had always been proud of the absolute honesty in Josie and my relationship – and this was a lapse. Over the past few months, I had seen Josie explode in angst on more than one occasion. I’d seen him leave in the middle of the night, with no idea where he was going or if he’d be back. He’d walked the streets, sending me sarcastic texts, or ignoring me entirely. Overwhelmed with angst. While part of me understood these moments, they also made me feel hated, as a wife. Like I had fucked up. I hadn’t followed the script and was being punished. And I don’t bounce back quickly from those moments. They stayed with me for weeks, echoing in my mind. I wanted to do whatever I could to avoid another explosive angst outburst.
And in retrospect, I can’t claim that was my only motivation – to reduce the strain on Josie. There was clearly a selfish component as well. Basically, I wasn’t ready to end it with Christian. Even though I only see him every couple of months – the chemistry is palpable, the sex is amazing, and his cock. God his cock – in my mouth, pushing all the way to the back of my throat. His cock reaching up inside of me, touching places that Josie only does with toys. The way Christian roughly throws me on the bed, or couch, or center console… really wherever he chooses to fuck me. I wasn’t ready for that all to stop. It makes me feel vibrant. It actually makes me feel like myself. It makes me come alive.
I knew I couldn’t control what Christian wrote me on my phone – or how often he wrote. And I knew Josie was possibly on my phone even more often than I was myself. So, it felt like an easy solve, especially when Josie and I were having an amazing evening together, to just delete Christian’s messages. To let me focus only on Josie.
But in that moment, curled up on the couch, everything was coming to a head. As Josie asked me more and more questions in rapid succession, “Did you tell him you love him? What did you delete?” I could literally feel Josie’s heart beating in his chest as I laid next to him. He was angry. He said I thought he was stupid. He said I was just like my mom. He said I was deceitful. He said I was dishonest. I briefly started to try to explain my perspective, only to stop short. The words felt trite on my lips, and I realized that nothing I said would make a difference. The tension was thick between us.
I felt all the shame. The shame of the dishonesty. But even more, that deep seeded shame that something was fundamentally wrong with me. Why did I do this? Why do I need this alpha attention so deeply? Why was I so drawn to these alpha guys? Why had I let myself be so afraid of the angst? Why was there this constant drumming of sexual desire in my mind that I just couldn’t turn off? After a long pause, I chose my words carefully. “You need me to stop talking to Christian, don’t you,” It felt like the logical next step. But a part of my heart broke as I put it on the table.
And in a quiet, almost inaudible tone, I hear, “Why would you say that?” I look over at Josie, not sure for a moment if the comment was sarcastic. He took a deep breath and continued, “If you reach over and feel my cock, you’ll see I’m hard”.
I couldn’t speak for a moment.
It was like gearing up for a sharp turn on the freeway, only to have the road stay strangely straight. I immediately reached over to feel the small bulge pushing up through his sweatpants. Rock hard. Wow.
I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around what was happening. But in that moment, all I knew was I wanted to go with it. Something about him admitting it turned him on completely lit me on fire. I wanted to taste his cock. To stroke it. To feel it slide across my clit the way we do. To playfully tease him for slipping out when he tries to fuck me. But I also wanted to make love to him.
Something had happened for me in that moment. It was a concrete deepening of love. Something I hadn’t realized I even had the capacity for. Years from now, I think I’ll be able to look back and recount this night as a specific moment when I feel even more deeply in love with Josie. I had been seen. Completely. The good, the bad, the slutty, the cravings. And rather than walking away or exploding in angst, he leaned in. Maybe for his own cuckold reasons, but either way, the result was the same.
As I straddled his lap I could feel his little cock pushing up against my clit even through our clothes. I kissed him deeply as my body just overflowed with love and desire for him. Were we really that perfectly matched? That deep down, I have these instinctual cravings for cock that are so intense that I can’t help but do whatever I can to make sure I keep getting cock? And his instinctual cuckold nature is so strong that he can’t help but find it hot? We both were so twisted… but in the way that perfectly complemented each other. Like two gnarled tree branches that had grown twisted, together, over time. I felt my pussy just dripping. I desperately needed to get fucked.
I grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom, scattering out clothing on the floor of the bedroom. As I crawled back on top of him, straddling him – now unencumbered by clothing, I could feel his little cock slide across my pussy, across my clit. Fuck I love that. I grabbed the back of his neck harder than usual. Something about this dynamic was also making me feel more dominant. More in control. And I was loving it. I kissed him again and again. Staring deeply into his eyes.
And as usual, I needed more cock. He grabbed my favorite cock extender. The one that reaches all the spots inside of me that… well… that Christian, or Dave, or Brad would reach. As I straddled Josie this time, I felt the toy push inside of me. A gasp escaped my lips that way it always does when a perfect cock is sliding in. God I need that feeling. I ground down on the toy, letting it sink into me – even deeper. But I also needed to feel Josie’s lips. As I leaned forward to kiss Josie, still gasping from the large toy, I realized, there was another layer for me.
I felt like for the first time, I wasn’t playing by a script. I’d always worked to keep my slutty adventures neatly in the box Josie had approved. Luckily it’s a big box , and he is very accommodating. But I’ve still always felt like in the day to day, there was always the need to test the waters of where things were that day, and a need to adjust course as needed. Here, at least aspects of this, I was starting to play outside the box. But he still loved me.
Maybe he didn’t need me to follow the rules of the “right” way to be slutty. Maybe I could just be? For a moment I wondered if this was how Josie felt that first night he dressed for me. Only fishnets and a mask. It wasn’t my script – it was his. And I loved him, not despite of it, but for it. I loved him being so true to himself – following his own script. His expression of happiness.
For me, on that evening that started with so much shame – I ended up feeling more connected to Josie than I have ever felt to anyone in my life. I almost felt like the lines between us were blurred. We were truly inseparable. A perfect match in all our imperfections. I kissed him again and again, just wanting to stare into his eyes so deeply. To soak up every part of him.
Days later, there’s still a lot flitting around in my head. Since that night, I’ve felt deeply connected to Josie – in a more intimate way than I can imagine. We’ve drank wine by the lake, listened to our wedding song curled up by a fire, had some extreme steamy sex nights that my ass is still recovering from – but I feel like inexplicably – we’re in a better place.
I don’t know where this leaves Josie and I – or where it leaves Christian and I. The emotional component of my relationship with Christian is new territory for Josie and I. That night, Josie asked if Christian had said he loved me. I told him that he had… before I left after our overnight. He’d said it as he kissed me goodbye through the rolled down window of my car. I always question those proclamations. Women hear them all the time. I think every man I’ve ever had sex with more than once has told me he loves me, or that he wants to marry me, or both. But from Christian it felt genuine. I had felt that from him for a while – he just hadn’t labeled it.
After that, Josie asked probably 10 times if I had told Christian I loved him. I hadn’t. But as Josie and I spoke, I told Josie something I hadn’t realized until that moment. I wanted to love Christian. I just don’t’ know what that means with this dynamic.
I know I love Josie – he’s my soulmate. He’s my closest intimacy, my strongest passion, my best friend. He’s my wife, my husband, my lover, my LOML. And I’m completely committed. Nothing could take me away from him.
With Christian, there are red flags that I’d pay attention to if I was looking for a primary partner – but I have the luxury of ignoring them because I’m not looking for one. So with Christian there is the chemistry. God so much chemistry. And the friendship. And the cock 😉 But no commitment.
Which begs the philosophical question – can you even have love without commitment?
I’m truly not sure.
I caught my wife in a lie. It hurt. My wife and my relationship is built on honesty one hundred percent. I absolutely need trust for an open relationship, even a cuckold relationship.
She could have not let me look at her phone. Password protected it. Elizabeth knows, though I enjoy seeing her messaging with other men. That it is part of including me in my cuckolding. Her communication with other men both excites me and sometimes gives me angst. But it allows me to work through that angst and grow stronger as an emotional support.
I suspected she was deleting messages from him earlier that week. I didn’t know how long, but the strings of text became disjointed. Not the natural flow of conversation.
When I saw his text this night I actually wasn’t snooping. It came through while I was plugging my phone in next to hers.
Something along the line “Sitting by the fire only thinking of you wishing you were here with me.”
I read it and wondered what her response was going to be. We were having such a perfect night.
I checked later in the evening while we were watching TV together. The text from him was gone.
One of those weird circumstances. I was fantasizing all week about them together. My life was no longer overwhelmed and, as my wife wrote above, we had been spending a lot of time together. I again was getting cuckold cravings.
These fantasies were different, though. I have known this guy is different. How much he seems to love my wife. How she had seemed to be falling in love with him. If not in love, an emotional attachment. I was fantasizing about it happening.
Strange a man getting turned on about the thought of his wife falling in love with another.
I don’t want her to leave me. That scares the fuck out of me. But we have also been doing this for a long time. A lot of men. It feels erotic thinking about her falling in love.
I also like the regular presence of another man in our relationship. Cuckolding was pretty much put on hold for 2 years during the pandemic aside from a random hook-up we organized. I missed my wife being slutty when I had her all to myself.
So in a fit of cuckold cravings, I suggested she spend a couple nights with him. Pretend they are at a work conference together. Working during the day and fucking whenever they can.
In my mind, it was manipulative. I was encouraging her to be put into a situation where their bond could grow stronger.
Then she was caught in a lie.
It angered me. At the same time it was so arousing. She only saw my anger though. As my heartbeat, my cock was not lying. It was so hard. So aroused.
I have fantasized about my wife cheating on me for as long as we have been together. Why would a man fantasize about this? Especially in an honest, open cuckold relationship?
Every girl I have ever been with in a relationship has cheated on me. Lied to me. Not honest about my little dick and their primal need for cock.
Maybe I am so sexually and emotionally broken that I can eroticize the love of my life cheating on me.
I have spent so many nights of my life walking the street in tears. When I was younger, I contemplated killing myself on a few occasions. I have abused drugs and alcohol, running away from my true self. I have spent more time alone in my thoughts than not. So many people have broken my heart. Yet I am still always there for them. I am the most sensitive man, a man that puts all before me. I am a submissive man.
I have never had the dark feelings of the past since I met my wife. She has saved me. Allowed me to tap into my insecurities and make them my strengths. She has awakened something in me. The cuckold, the sissy, the transexual, the bisexual, the submissive male. She has accepted me for the raw person I am. The person I was always ashamed to be, or scared to be.
I get angst. I go, I walk because she can’t understand it. We argue about it if I stay home because I can’t describe my feelings. I can’t describe why I have these desires. I can’t explain my angst my darkness.
I feel all the shame. The shame of not being a man. But even more, that deep-seated shame that something is fundamentally wrong with me. Why do I do this? Why do I need to be cuckolded? Why am I so drawn to these dominant women? Why have I let myself be so afraid of being a submissive male? Afraid of being feminine to the nine. Why is there this constant drumming of sexual desire in my mind that I just can not turn off?
That deep down, I have these instinctual cravings to be cuckolded that are so intense that I can’t help but do whatever I can to make sure I keep getting cuckolded? And her instinctual nature to be sexually free is so strong.
To understand it, I walk. To let it pass. It always passes. I can always see the positive with her.
She helped me realize how amazing it feels to be a cuckold, a sissy. To be true to myself, feel free, happy and loved. I can never repay this gift.
We both are so twisted… but in the way that perfectly complements each other.
Are we like two gnarled tree branches that have grown twisted, together over time?
Separate being sexually weak, broken by expectations of society. Together we have twisted together to bring each other so much strength.
Something about this dynamic was also making me feel more submissive. More out of control. And I was loving it. I kissed her again and again. Staring deeply into her eyes.
I could tell she felt she messed up and I could see and feel her love for me. I was also feeling that submissive cuckold feeling.
What do her and Christian talk about where she feels she has to delete the messages? My mind jumps to love.
I asked her if he ever told her he loved her. Caught in this lie she was honest and told me “yes”.
“The morning after I stayed the night with him.”
“Did you tell him you loved him?”
I asked her again, not knowing if she was telling the truth. Another man in love with my wife. It made me more aroused.
I can understand all men falling in love with her. She is beautiful, sexy, strong, dresses the part, has sex on a primitive level. She is my everything. I would never leave her.
Never leave her no matter how bad she hurt me. That is a submissive man. That is commitment.
This was not hurting me though. It was arousing me beyond belief.
She was keeping this from me out of her own motivation. She believed to reduce the strain on me. But I fantasized about them falling in love on that night together. I pleasured myself to the thought. I asked her when she returned that morning and she again was dishonest and told me it wasn’t love. Even though he told her he loved her.
Scared I would want her to end it with Christian if she told me the truth.
The palpable chemistry they have, the amazing sex so different from ours, his cock. His dominance.
Is it the competition? The compersion I can finally feel? Was it the book I read recently about a small dick submissive guys journey to a cuckold marriage that I fully related with?
I wanted to make love with her. To feel her passion. I’m so deeply in love with Elizabeth. I have always seen her for her and yes that includes the slut. The slutty girl inside her is something I have always been attracted to. Even before I knew I was a cuckold but I am positive those are my own reasons.
I love that she has these instinctual cravings for cock that are so intense that she can’t help but do whatever she can to make sure she keeps getting cock. I too have sucked and fucked cock, I know it’s power. I also know those cravings but for me they are cuckold cravings, submissive cravings.
I love that she thinks my dick is tiny and teases me about it. How we love to have it slide across her pussy. Our soft feminine love making. Her on top, me on bottom. I love when she feels more dominant and empowered. In control.
That she needs more cock. I have a collection of the highest grade toys to please her with for this reason. The most real penis extender. The Vixskin Colossus X. $200 and worth every penny for her pleasure. It is the only way I can fuck her. Like one of her men.
It drives her crazy, rips orgasms through her body. Like Christian’s real cock does.
This is something I love giving her. I love making love to her, soft and feminine. I love when she fucks me with a dildo and I feel what it is like to have a big cock inside of you.
She doesn’t need to follow the rules. There is no script that I have. I need her love. I need her to be slutty. I understand because I also love to be and feel slutty myself.
My wife and I are deeply connected and very much in love.
That night, as we made passionate love I asked her repeatedly if she told him she loved him. She kept telling me she hadn’t. It was like I wanted to hear her say it so bad. To hear the words come out of her mouth, so aroused, I knew if she said it I would explode in orgasm.
She told me she wanted to love Christian. She just didn’t know it was a possibility that it was something she is allowed to do.
Like she said about me. I love her more than anything – she is my soulmate. My closest intimacy, my strongest passion, my best friend. My wife, my lover, my LOML. I’m completely committed.
It makes me feel safe she feels the same and has communicated so elegantly nothing can take me away from her.
Not even big cock!
With a man like Christian, of course, there are red flags. There are with all alpha men.
Sorry they just don’t make as good as husbands as a submissive man. They do have their place though and a hotwife has the luxury of ignoring flags because a hotwife already has her life partner.
Unlike prior to marriage getting fucked by the bad boys and having them emotionally hurt you. That is not as much a worry. You can love them for what they are and what they offer. It is the absolute definition of have one’s cake and eat it too.
She has chemistry with him. The friendship. And the cock. But no commitment.
That may be the perfect combination and all she needs.
Now the philosophical question – can you even have love without commitment?
I believe you can love for the sake of love and pleasure.
I also believe love comes with commitment but certainly levels of commitment are different for everyone.
My wife and I show our commitment for each other in this writing. We also have committed to a marriage, buying a home, raising a family, being there financially and emotionally for each other and our family members. We have committed to being primary partners in our open relationship. The LOML.
I would imagine if you tell someone you love them, a sexual and romantic partner there is some expected commitment.
You become multi-committed. You have more than one person in your life that that you make time for. That you care about. Stay connected to. Support. Be there when they need you. Same as the other people in your life you love.
What did he mean when he said he loves her? What level of commitment is he expecting if she loves him back? I’d imagine some if not all of the above.
Christian also knows she is happily married, she has kept no secrets from him about her and my relationship aside from my submissive feminine side. She has made it clear she plans to fuck other men other than him and I. She is not looking for a replacement but an addition to her sexual and emotional needs.
The fantasy of her falling in love is arousing to both her and I. Something we have never explored but a current potential opportunity for deeper, more meaningful relationships.
What does it mean to him if she tells him she loves him I guess is the question? Or does it matter, if she has fallen in love with him he has to accept how much she is willing to give and chooses to give. If he doesn’t he can choose to end the relationship.
Aside from the erotic what does it mean for me? I have to stay committed when she makes time for him. Stays with him. Potentially vacations with him. If the love deepens more than love and lust. Her meeting his friends, potentially our friends and family.
philosophical question – can you even have love without commitment?
A lot of honesty and communication.