My husband, Adam, had been quiet all evening.
He wasn’t giving me the silent treatment, not that brittle, cold wall a couple puts up when they’re angry with each other. It was the quietness that buzzed with sexual anticipation. I’d learned to recognize it. It was the silence of a man waiting to see if the fantasy he’d nurtured in his head would survive contact with reality.
We had quarreled, a regrettable state, but since I’d invited Craig over, all hostility had eased, and our marriage was back on track.
We were already dressed for my lover’s arrival. I’d picked out a particular short black dress because it clung where I wanted it to and let go where I didn’t. Adam had watched me put it on without comment, though his eyes had followed my hands in the mirror when I’d smoothed the hem over my thighs, his reflection looking both hungry and hollow.
Adam helped me put on my coat. We were going out to a bar at my bull’s insistence, a tease before he ruined me in front of my husband.
Craig arrived exactly on time, like he always did, smelling of dark cologne and leather seats warmed by late-evening sun. He didn’t knock timidly. Three slow raps against the solid wood of our front door, a pause, then another. It was the rhythm of someone announcing that the night now belonged to him, a sound that made my stomach dip and my cunt twitch.
My heart leaped, and I felt excited. My husband saw my joy, and I felt a dribble of shame and guilt pass through my panty gusset, making the fabric more sodden and heavier and my thighs stickier. The warm wetness had weight, an obscene reminder that I’d been thinking about my lover’s long, thick cock since morning. I watched Adam for a sign of regret or a moment to pause for thought, reappraise our marriage, but all I saw was a shame to match mine, the kind that sits in the eyes and burns under the skin.
My husband opened our front door, and the man who would fuck me tonight stepped inside as if he already owned the air in our home.
“Evening, Adam.”
“Evening.”
“Elise looks stunning.”
“She’s been at it all day, preparing for you. I helped, she got flustered, but now you are here, everything can settle down.”
“I’m glad to help.”
Craig’s eyes landed on me as he stepped through our front door. That was always how it began, cuckolding, the handover between a husband and my bull, the latter behaving like he was inventorying what he already owned, checking to see if it had been kept in good condition.
“Are you ready for me, Elise?”
I didn’t answer right away. My heart was racing, and I could feel the heat and stickiness already low between my legs. There’s something about that first exchange that a slutty wife must savor. When your husband is standing right there and another man asks if you’re ready for him, for you to fuck him, to have him split you wide open and fill your womb with melting hot seed. It burns away all pretense and makes the three sides of a cuckold triangle brutally honest.
“I’ve been ready since this morning.”
“We should meet more often. You look ill at ease.”
“My husband said the same thing. We quarreled a lot recently. It was my fault. That never happens for days after you fuck me.”
“You need to be fucked more often.”
“I know… but he can’t… won’t.”
“I will do what your husband can’t.”
“I feel centered after you visit. Your semen filling my womb does that.”
“More often then, Elise? A discussion for later, when you are centered.”
“Yes… I need… you… now.”
I cringed, feeling a searing shame for my marriage vows cast aside burning in my cheeks. I glanced sideways at my husband, checking in. Had I pushed too far, humiliated him too much? Adam inhaled softly. I heard it. Craig heard it. That sound was the thread tying us all together: my need, my husband’s surrender, and my bull’s satisfaction.
My cuck stood strong and tall, permitting my satisfaction at the hands of another man.
Craig stepped closer. His hand slid to the back of my neck; his fingers felt warm and sure, calming my youthful ire. He didn’t kiss me, not yet. He looked at Adam instead.
“Take her coat. We will stay in. If Elise needs an itch scratched, that’s most important.”
“She does.”
“If she becomes quarrelsome in the future, call me immediately, Adam… I mean, you call me, not her. Ask for my help, and I will come instantly and calm her down.”
“You’re the only remedy, Craig. Like a couple’s therapist.”
Adam moved instantly, easing my coat off my shoulders. The air of the room felt cooler against my skin, and I knew my nipples were pressing hard against the thin fabric. Craig noticed, of course.
“Elise is perfect tonight. I can smell perfume in the air.”
“That’s my wife… but not for me… only you.”
“You need to introduce Elise to other bulls. Spread your cuck wings wide. Every bull will give you both a new experience.”
“She will, soon. I am sure.”
I smiled, though it wasn’t really for my bull. It was for the man who stood watching us, the one who loved me enough to hand me over. Craig’s hand moved lower, his fingers grazing the back of my dress, almost cupping me.
“Are you wet enough for me to fuck already?”
“Yes.”
“Tell him.”
“My husband?”
“Yes… the cuck you love. Tell him how wet you are for me.”
I turned my head, catching Adam’s gaze. I gasped, and the words choked to a whisper.
“I’m wet, darling. Thinking all day about Craig’s cock stretching me open.”
My husband’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak. His bulging eyes said it all. His cuckold adventure was well underway.
Craig guided me toward the bedroom without another word. His palm was firmly pressing the hollow at the small of my back, not shoving, just reminding me who was leading. Adam followed us, slower, like a man stepping into a church for the first time, aware he was about to witness a ritual that would leave him changed and me reshaped inside.
The bedroom light was low. Craig sat on the edge of my marital bed and pulled me between his knees. His hands slid up the backs of my thighs, finding the line of my panties and hooking them down just far enough to expose my pussy.
He looked over my shoulder at Adam.
“Come closer, cuck. I want you to see what she looks like before I fuck her.”
Adam obeyed, his eyes locked on the swollen, glistening place between my legs. Craig’s fingers brushed over my engorged labia. I gasped softly, my knees trembling.
“She’s dripping wet, Adam.”
“Show me, please.”
Craig spread my sticky, swollen lips wide apart with two fingers, holding them open while my husband leaned in, his nose almost grazing my pulsing slit. If he wanted to lick or suck, he could, a swollen, sticky lip or my throbbing, creamy clit that was solid as steel. But he didn’t, because my husband was a true, loyal cuck.
The air felt cool against my slick skin, but my husband’s breath warmed me. I moaned, kneading my breasts, tweaking my nipples until they hurt, until I bled off just enough lust to breathe again.
I stared down into my lover’s smoldering eyes, knowing my husband was inches away, a passive witness to my ruin. My back was arched, forcing my pussy onto my lover’s fingers, desperate for him to fill my throbbing hole with anything that could start my descent into ruin.
My face was a contorted mess of a promised orgasm, long overdue. My lover stared at me, memorizing the moment, nodding at me.
“Look at her. This is what your wife looks like when she’s waiting too long for another man’s cock.”
“She shouldn’t have to wait.”
“Call me next time.”
“I will, Craig. I promise.”
My husband’s breathing changed. It became slower, deeper, like he was committing the moment to memory, sights, smells, sounds, but not taste or touch because a cuck is not allowed, his rules, not mine, but I was glad of them. Craig pushed a finger inside my throbbing, creamy hole, slowly at first, then reaching deeper until I clenched tightly around him, groaning as I leaked hot shame over his hand.
“Elise likes that, Adam.”
“I can see.”
“Do you want me to stop finger-fucking your wife?”
Adam shook his head.
“No.”
Fuck no… his opinion doesn’t matter now.
He gave me away to you.
Craig withdrew his glistening finger from my pussy and brought it to his lips, inhaling the musk of my heat before smiling with that knowing arrogance. After he tasted me, I was offered the leftovers, a thin coating of my sticky filth on his fingertip. I opened my mouth for my lover, sucking his finger clean without looking away from my husband.
“That’s good, Elise. Now get on the bed.”
I lay back, my dress riding up my hips. Craig peeled my sodden panties down, letting them fall to the floor. He climbed over me, his weight sinking the mattress, and I felt the hot, heavy length of him press against my thigh through his underwear.
My lover stared at my husband, his cock almost inside me, his thin layer of cotton soaking me and him, combining precum with my sticky hormones.
“This is your last chance to prevent this, Adam. If you want me to stop fucking your wife without a condom, or at all, say it now.”
“I can’t. I won’t. I don’t want to stop you from fucking her… she needs it. I need it. You must cum inside my wife… please.”
Adam’s answer was barely more than a whisper, but it was consent, the kind that strips a man of claim and makes him complicit in his own displacement. My lover smiled, the smile of a man who had just been given everything he wanted. He peeled down his boxer briefs, kicked them aside at my husband’s feet, then pressed down, his thick, round cock head prying me open.
I stared into my bull’s eyes, begging for more, and he nodded.
“Enjoy. I’ll wash away your anger and make you new again.”
“Thank you, Craig.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring that electric point of contact between us. The thick, swollen crown of his cock pressed into me with a slow, merciless insistence, forcing my cunt to open around him. The first stretch was almost too much, my lips straining, my muscles fighting, my body trying to hold on to its last bit of modesty before giving it up entirely. The slick heat between my thighs made every inch a wet, sucking kiss against his shaft.
Then my lover drove his shaft deeper, a steady, conquering glide that made me gasp as the head of his cock ground over every swollen nerve inside me. My soft tissue walls clenched in a desperate attempt to slow him, but he kept pushing until his length buried itself completely, the blunt dome of him locking tight against my cervix with a dull, aching thud, crushing his DNA into mine. My belly tightened. My clit throbbed like it was being tugged on a string.
Craig’s hands gripped my hips, holding me still. He pulled back just enough for my body to breathe, a slick, slow withdrawal that dragged the ridges of his cock against every gripping fold inside me. My cunt squeezed around him instinctively, trying to keep him, but he retreated until only the tip flared inside me. The pause was worse than the movement, making my body twitch with need.
Then he thrust forward again, faster this time, making my ass slap against his hips with a sound that cut through the air. The pressure was devastating, a deep, filling weight that claimed every inch of me from clit to cervix. I felt myself gush around him, wet heat coating his shaft and my inner thighs.
“She is mine tonight.”
“Yes.”
“Tell him.”
I opened my eyes, locking onto Adam’s while my lover began to work me open with a rhythm that was as cruel as it was perfect. Every drive of his cock balls deep inside me was a solid, root-deep fuck; every withdrawal was slow enough to make my cunt clutch at him like a mouth desperate not to lose its meal. My breathing matched the strokes, a sharp inhale every time he bottomed out, a broken exhale when he pulled away and left me hanging open.
“I’m Craig’s tonight, darling. All his.”
Adam swallowed hard, but his expression was calm.
“I know.”
Craig’s pace shifted, the thrusts becoming longer, heavier, the angle tilting so that the thick underside of his shaft rasped over my g-spot on the way in, then pressed hard against my cervix at the end of every stroke. I could feel his cock thicken inside me, the heat of him growing until each movement felt like a molten weight forcing me into the mattress.
The room smelled of us, not just sex, but the deep, almost metallic tang of my arousal and the musky, dominant heat of his skin. My thighs trembled, slick with a mix of sweat and the mess spilling from between my swollen lips. My pussy pulsed in a steady rhythm, milking him harder the longer he stayed buried.
My lover’s stare was dark, almost punishing.
“Don’t you dare cum yet, Elise. Not until I tell you.”
“Yes.”
“Tell him what I’m doing to you.”
“My lover is fucking me, Adam. Filling me. You’re watching him take me.”
Craig’s laugh was low and dangerous.
“And I’m not stopping until she’s screaming your name with my cock inside her.”
Adam’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his eyes fixed on the obscene stretch between my legs. He could see the wet, shining crown of Craig’s cock reappearing before it slammed back inside me, the thick root forcing my lips apart with each relentless thrust. He could see how I gripped him, how every withdrawal left me open and needy, how every push back in made my body flinch and my voice break.
“Now, Elise… cum for us.”
The command detonated inside me. My back arched hard, my mouth opened on a scream that had no words in it, only raw, breaking sound. My cunt clamped down in violent, pulsing waves, each one dragging more slick heat down his shaft. The orgasm ripped through me, unstoppable, shaking my legs, making my nails dig into the sheets until my knuckles burned.
I gasped for air between cries, my body thrashing under his grip. Every thrust pushed me through another explosion, dragging me deeper into it until I was sobbing with the unbearable bliss. My vision blurred. My ears roared with the rush of blood.
Craig didn’t slow. He fucked me through every spasm, every helpless spurt of wetness, every desperate moan I gave my husband as he stood there and took in the sight of his wife completely undone. My hips rolled without control, chasing the next shockwave.
When the crest finally began to ebb, my body felt like wet silk, trembling and twitching under his weight. Craig’s cock was still deep inside me, thick and hot, owning me in the aftermath.
Adam’s chest was rising and falling in slow, stunned rhythm. His eyes were glassy, fixed on me, on us.
And Craig smiled like a man who had claimed a kingdom.
Because he had.
Interested in some Cuckold & Hotwife series? Check out:
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Or perhaps some standalones:
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Why is it always the man who is the cuckhold and the loser
You are amazing, Kate! Damn, you know how to push all the right buttons! 🔥🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️♥️♥️