115.
I was naked and exposed, my miniskirt bunched around my waist, my thigh highs and heels simply window dressing, further highlighting the feminine submissive I had become. I was on my knees and watching him take her - deep and hard, the way she liked it.
He was on top, her legs wrapped around his midsection, her spike heels banging against his back with each hard thrust. She had one arm around his neck and every so often the other would slap against the bed, involuntarily reacting to the sexual pleasure she was experiencing.
James was one of two guys we had been in the process of scheduling for her when we pushed the pause button on her seeing other people. Now, with my wife and I together and “comfortable” with the path forward, we pushed “play” and began reengaging with both.
My comfort with all of it ebbed and flowed. It’s difficult to be comfortable when a man is inside my wife, pleasuring her in ways I’m no longer capable of.
It had taken a couple of weeks for this to come together with James. He was away when I initially reached back out, but glad to hear from us and our communication with him had been consistent since. One false start had occurred when we had to cancel due to her period. Now, it was a week later and very clear that the delay had only ramped the anticipation higher.
I liked James. He was easy to talk to. I think I was so nervous the first time I couldn’t really enjoy Michael’s company. Michael was a good guy. James was too, and very funny.
We had essentially “run” the same play with James as we had with Michael before. Saturday night. Same hotel. Same order: drinks first, as a “get to know you,” and then assuming there was chemistry my wife would make the call to go upstairs.
There were two changes:
1) The way we “handled” me. With Michael, we had it made it clear I would be there and I would watch but I would not participate. That was it. We didn’t think we needed to go into it more. And had she not put me on display, that probably would have sufficed. But she did and we both realized we should have been more direct so any potential lover knew what they were signing up for. This time we made it clear I would be there, I would watch, I would not physically be involved, but I would absolutely be a part of it. As she said to James on the phone: “She’s my partner in this. This is about her as much as it’s about you and me. So, I will 'scene' her with you there and it’s important you know it going in.”
She then went on to provide a bit of guidance on what her definition of “scene-ing” was, giving a couple of examples, but stopping short of disclosing to either of us exactly what might happen. James was good with it. No surprise there. My wife’s pussy has a way of getting what it wants and I think he would have agreed to pretty much anything.
2) My wife and I were both more comfortable. Having drinks with James was fun. I was highly involved in the conversation and his sense of humor is sarcastic like mine. We laughed a lot.
As it turned out, the scene played out a lot like the last time. With her sitting on the bed and a half-naked James standing next to her, she slowly rubbed his hardening cock as she put me through my submissive paces. Off went my blouse, then my bra, then my panties, and then she ordered me to hike up my miniskirt. I blushed as I did it, but there no stopping the freight-train energy of it all. I just did what she commanded.
Exposing my cage to James was an intoxicating cocktail of submission, degradation and lust. An admission that once was will never be again. I was shaking as I lifted my skirt. Some of it out of nerves, some out of anticipation. A craving to show him that I am a slut for her and to my desires - incapable of saying “no” to her and incapable of penetration - but incredibly capable of satisfying any of all of her dominant tastes.
She had put me on my knees in the present pose four feet from the foot of the bed where she was sitting and stroking him. Then she took him in her mouth and James and I both audibly moaned. It’s such a powerful dynamic watching her give head. Blowjobs can be submissive or Dominant depending on the person giving them. Hers are overwhelmingly Dominant now. She’s in control. There’s a lot of teasing. It’s at her pace and chosen depth. I love watching the unbelievable control she has over a man.
Eventually they got to the main event. Let me just say: it is surreal watching your wife get railed by someone else. It’s emotional, raw, sexy, and humiliating. Her wetness. And mine. I remember being there on my knees; watching, listening, longing … leaking. This time she had put the condom on me when we got upstairs and told James to take note of how full it would get. It was such a degradation lever and my head spun when she pulled it. She has these incredibly Dominant flourishes that she adds. I don’t know how many are planned and how many are organic. I suppose it’s a bit of both. They’re diabolically erotic. With each one, the silk knots of my submission get tighter.
When they were finished, she repeated the command of having me take the used, full condom from James. This time I was OK with it – I figured it was coming - and smiled and thanked him when he gave it to me.
I discarded it and when I returned she was getting up from the bed, disappearing into the bathroom shortly after and closing the door. I was alone with James. I felt my nerves return and it was clear he felt uncomfortable too. I tried to diffuse:
“That was hot,” I said to him, smiling.
He smiled and blew air through his pursed lips … wow that was good.
I’m certain it was. My wife … fucks.
We all hung for a time, both of them in bathrobes on the bed, me in the same exposed state, but allowed to sit in the chair. I refreshed drinks and we all made small talk. I did my best to tuck my cage and cross my legs, hiding it. I felt self-conscious when it was just resting its tiny pink head on my thighs. I preferred looking down and seeing nothing at all. At one point she asked me to straighten the bed and I loved the dominance of this command. I could feel his eyes on me as I tidied up. She noticed it too.
“My baby always plugs that beautiful ass, doesn’t she?” she teased.
“For you,” I replied.
It thrilled me that he knew.
She gestured to me. “Come here, love.”
I walked over. She touched her index fingers and her thumbs together and slid them over my cage, pushing her fingers against my pubic bone and her thumbs under my chastity ring. The root of so much of my submission was now on display; locked, tiny, impotent.
“I find it so beautiful,” she said to James. She gently blew on my cage and patted it softly. “So delicate.” She cupped my tiny sac. “And so desperate,” she said, gesturing to the filling condom.
The plug, the cage, the endless teasing and denial, the energy of the scene, there was no way my body could withstand it all. I had already felt some leaking earlier. When I looked down – we all looked at it, including James – my feminine submission had already filled the top of the condom by half an inch.
“She tried to tell me once she didn’t like it,” she smirked. “But your flower knows better, doesn’t it love?”
“Yes, Mistress,” I whispered.
It was humiliating and erotic and such a reminder of the control she has over me. I loved it, even as I struggled with the inadequacy of it all. Whatever spec of male pride remained was overwhelmed by the futility of the situation. That battle had already been lost. She just hadn’t declared it over, because it was more degrading like this.
Embrace what you are. It’s better this way.
Eventually they went for round two, a longer session with more positions and a switch in the middle where she took off his condom, handed it to me to discard and then worked him orally for about five minutes before re-wrapping him for the finish.
The cuckold experience is so incredibly electric and degrading. Far beyond anything else in many ways. I feel sexual shame and I enjoy it, which is something I plan to unpack, since I don’t know if shame is the right word. It’s exhilarating and dirty and … more on that later.
To open a condom for my wife and obediently hand it to her … so she can roll it down a man’s hard shaft … so he can fuck her … in front of me … is breathtaking.
When they were done, I wondered what, if anything, was next. Would there be a round three? Turns out there would not be. Shortly after they caught their breath, she laid down next to him and they talked for a little while. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, which was unsettling, but hoped with the seeming success of the night that she would tell me at the appropriate time.
“OK, baby girl,” she said as she got up from the bed. “It is time for us to leave lovely James now.”
That was that. I got up from the chair, pulled down my skirt and then put my panties, bra and blouse back on. I helped gather up her things and then got our overnight bag sorted. With that, James gave me a hug and my wife a short kiss and she and I left.
As we walked down the hall, she took my hand. “You OK?”
“Yes,” I said.
As I pushed the “down” arrow on the elevator, she walked over, threw her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply.
“I cannot wait to get you home,” she said.
