Willingly Cuckolded for Love

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Summary: A happily married couple both submit to her Dom ex-lover.

Note 1: This story is dedicated to Mike and Laura, a married couple, who requested this story.

Note 2: Estragon, as always, many thanks for your copy editing work and LaRascasse for his plot suggestions.

Warning: Please note this is a story about cuckolding that includes gay submission…if these do not appeal to you please don’t read.

Willingly Cuckolded for Love

0. Prologue

My wife is the complete package. She is beautiful (blonde hair, green eyes, 36C breasts, legs to die for and a smile that would melt Jack Frost); she is intelligent (a hotel manager by trade, an avid reader, politically involved and challenges me at every level); she is patient (understands by sports obsession, listens to my daily rants, and deals with my family’s many quirks with a smile in her face); she’s great in bed (she still gives me head, still has a ferocious sexual appetite after eight years of marriage, and seldom denies my sexual needs).

Our marriage is the envy of many of our friends as we suit each other so well; I am her yin and she is my yang.

I love her with every fibre of my being and would do anything to make her happy…I just never thought anything would be what ended up happening.

1. An Innocent Beginning

It started simply, like everything life-changing always does I suppose. No hint of the upcoming changes that would cascade in front of me, like the perfectly lined-up dominoes that one touch sends into an impossible avalanche.

It started two months earlier when Laura got an invitation to her ten-year college reunion. I met Laura the year after she graduated. I’d only heard about her wild college days, and her one serious boyfriend Phillip, on rare occasions. Mostly she avoided talking about those days or him at all costs.

Anyway, I got home from work and my wife was preparing dinner when she announced, “You won’t believe who asked to be friends on Facebook today.”

My hate for Facebook is obvious, so I was sarcastic. “The suspense is killing me. Who was it? A high school acquaintance who sat behind you in English class, but never actually talked to you, who she did lend you a pencil once so clearly you are lifelong friends?”

“Oh, Michael, you are such a glass-is-half-empty person,” she replied, slapping my shoulder.

“I am ‘the glass is completely dry and should be discarded’ when it comes to the useless Facebook crap,” I ranted for the thousandth times.

My wife, a much more technologically aware woman, announced, “It was Phillip.”

That should have sent alarm bells ringing, as she had never mentioned Phillip first for as long as I could remember.”Your ex, who you dated for over a year in college, Phillip?”

“The one and only,” she shrugged, pulling the casserole out of the oven.

“And?” I asked, already irrationally jealous.

“He asked if we could catch up,” she explained, before adding, “and so I added him.”

The wounded look on my face was impossible to hide, so all I said was “Oh.”

“You are not jealous, are you?” she asked, walking over to me and kissing me passionately.

“Of course not,” I lied. “He may have dated you, but I am the one that has you forever.”

“Exactly,” she said, flicking me on the nose.

And that should have ended it…but….

2. A Shocking Shift

A couple of days later my wife was on her laptop furiously pecking away. I asked, “What are you doing?”

“Oh just chatting,” she replied mindlessly, without looking up at me or slowing down her typing.

Curious at her focus, as she wasn’t really into chatting, I asked, “Who’re you chatting with?”

“Phillip,” she informed me, again not looking up.

“Your ex-Phillip?” I questioned, this time jealousy really ramping up. Laura was very attentive usually, and always gave me crap when I wasn’t looking into her eyes when we talked.

“Yes, Mike,” she replied, slightly annoyed. “Now give me a second. I am almost done.”

A bit annoyed myself, I silently boiled at the thought of her chatting with some ex I had never met.

A couple of minutes later she closed her laptop and looked me in the eye. “Sorry, Phillip and I were reminiscing.”


“Just random crap,” she shrugged, although her red cheeks told me otherwise. Laura got embarrassed easily and when she did her cheeks went ruby red.

I should have left it alone and maybe if I had everything that happened would never have, but I decided to dig deeper. I asked a question I realized I had never asked before, “Why did you two break up?”

She shrugged, “Honestly, all we had going was ‘great sex’. When we weren’t in the bedroom our relationship was a disaster.”

I remained silent as I processed the revelation of great sex. They say never ask a question you don’t want an answer to, but I did anyway. “Great sex, like better Maltepe Esmer Escort than you and I?”

“Oh Mike, you can’t compare sex with a man you love and are married to, to intense raw lust that I had with an ex.”

Not an answer any man wants to hear, so I asked, “You didn’t love him?”

“I thought I did then. But on reflection, it was not love, but something else. Something uncontrollable.”

I should have just let it go yet again, but curiosity got the best of me, and I asked, “What do you mean something uncontrollable?”

“Mike, I was a different person then,” she said, as an explanation.

“Different how?” I asked.

“You sure you want all the dirty details of my past?” she asked, adding, “The reason I broke up with him is the powerful sexual control he had over me.”

“What? Now I know you are pulling my chain. You are the most confident woman I have ever met. That is one of the things that first got me interested in you. Well, that and your kick-ass body,” I joked.

She smiled, “You always know how to lavish flattery on me. But yes, there was something different with Phillip, something carnal and raw. He brought out a side of me I didn’t know existed and a side I couldn’t control in his presence.”

“This is all very cryptic, Laura. What power did he have over you?” I asked.

She broke eye contact and finally after a lengthy pause as she whispered, “I was his submissive slut.”

I gasped “No way.”

“It’s true. When I was with him my dignity was left at the door and I was treated like a cheap slut,” my confident, sexy wife revealed, leaving me speechless. She continued, “It started simple enough with him forcing my head between his legs at an empty movie theatre or fucking me in his dorm room while others were in the other room. But then it got more and more crazy. He would cum on my face and then make me go into the other room almost naked to get him a beer and then he began making me kneel between his legs and suck his cock while he watched football as his buddies watched me. It was humiliating, but pleasing him and keeping him happy was all that mattered. Then the final straw when he made me blow all three of his poker buddies before he fucked me while they watched. It was so humiliating, yet also so thrilling. I never came as hard as I did that night. But when I was back home in my dorm I realized I had to break free from his hold before I fell in too deep.”

I stared at her silently as she revealed her sordid sexual debauchery from her college days. Oddly, my cock was super stiff and I had to adjust my cock from its awkward position in my pants. She noticed and asked, “Did that get you horny?”

I stammered, “N-n-no.”

She moved to me and pulled my cock out of its restrictive prison. “It did. You got horny hearing about your wife being treated like a slut.”

“No. It’s just the thought of you as a submissive is kinda kinky,” I admitted.

She began stroking my cock. “You know that Phillip wants to meet me for supper the day before the reunion?”

I moaned, as her soft hands played with my fiddle. “I see.”

“And I already agreed to meet him there,” Laura admitted, her tongue swirling around my cock head.

“Why?” I moaned softly, loving Laura’s tongue tease.

“Because he told me to,” she admitted, before devouring my cock whole. She bobbed up and down for a few minutes before stopping and saying, “I am afraid I can’t say no to him.”

“Then don’t go,” I suggested.

“Yes, you are right. If I go, I will end up under the table sucking his cock in the restaurant, or being fucked in the back of a cab. He is utterly irresistible.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know. But when he was around me, or even today when we were online, I felt compelled to obey him. I needed to obey him. I craved to please him. Fuck, I am so horny now.” She pulled off her at home comfy sweats and straddled me, her pussy already coated with her juice, as she easily took all my cock.

The only sounds the next few minutes were the moans of a man and a woman in ecstasy. I suddenly was confident that I was all she needed until she climaxed and screamed, “Oh yes, Phillip, fuck me, make me your slut again. Yes, yes, yeeeeeeeeeees.”

I couldn’t explain it but the thought of my wife being fucked by another man was suddenly a turn-on and I followed her orgasm by spraying my seed inside my lovely wife.

Once we had recovered, I pointed out, “You know you called me Phillip during orgasm.”

“No, I didn’t, did I?” she asked her face flushed.

“Yes,” I confirmed.

“I am so sorry, Mike. It’s just, well, talking about my past got me pretty revved up.”

“So I see,” I said, before asking another, possibly the ultimate, stupid question. “Is he bigger than me?”

“You mean his dick?”

“No, his bank account,” I joked, before adding, “Yes his dick.”

“A bit,” she confirmed.

I don’t know why I needed such details but I asked, “How big is he?”

“About nine inches,” she informed me.

“Holy Maltepe Eve Gelen Escort shit. That is like one-third bigger than me,” I gasped, unable to fathom such a cock once fucking my petite wife. Yet a part of me was imagining watching my wife taking a cock so much bigger than mine.

Trying to comfort me, “Oh baby, it’s not the size that counts, but how you use it.”

“Nice cover,” I retorted, “but that is as big of a lie as a guy saying the first thing we notice about you is your personality. We notice your tits, ass or legs, usually all three before we even know the colour of your eyes or anything else about you.”

My wife quipped, “You said you loved me because of my confidence.”

“Which is true, but only after I concluded your firm tits, tight ass and long legs were to my liking,” I admitted.

“I am happy you approve.” She smirked, cupping her breasts.

“So what did you to talk about online?” I asked, accidentally starting a roller coaster ride I would have no control over.

“Oh, lots of things,” she said, clearly evading the question.

“Is he married?”




“Has he mentioned hooking up with you?”

“Kinda,” my wife admitted, looking away.

“And do you want to?” I asked, unsure what answer I wanted to hear. On the one hand, obviously I wanted her to declare her undying loyalty to me and say she would never even consider such a revolting notion. Yet, on the other hand, the thought of my wife being a submissive slut was such a shocking and erotic vision I kind of wanted to see it live.

Her answer was neither, but a confused, “I don’t know.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I was married to a wonderful man.”

“What did he say back?”

“Do you fulfill all my sexual needs?” she said, still refusing to make eye contact with me, which told me the answer to the question.

“Oh,” I said anger growing inside.

She quickly explained, “Mike, I love you with all my heart. And I married you because of all your loving traits. You are the polar opposite of Phillip. I don’t want you to be like Phillip, it is not in your DNA. You are a gentleman.”

Even though she was flattering me, all I heard was ‘he is more of a man than you and can bring me sexual satisfaction in ways you never could.’ I was silent a moment before I asked, “Do you miss him?”

“Not him,” she said, making me feel better for one brief shining moment before she added, “but the intense sexual submission I do miss a bit.”

“Oh,” I said mindlessly again, as I processed all this new information. The shocking reality that I had never really pleased my woman the way she craved and desired was a knife to the heart, and somewhat lower. I suddenly felt impotent and weak, the fragile shell of a real man. I asked yet another question I shouldn’t have, “Do you miss having sex with him?”

“Oh Michael. These questions are not helping us,” she answered, answering the question with her evasive response.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.

“Michael, comparing you and Phillip is like comparing apples and oranges, you two are completely different.”

“Do you want to see him when he is in town?” I asked.

“I did,” she admitted, “but I don’t think it is a good idea now.”

“No,” I concluded, after a lengthy pause, thinking at that moment that the best way to keep my wife was to give her what apparently I was unable to do. “You go see him.”

“Michael, if I go see him he will expect that I am his that night,” she warned.

“I know,” I said, accepting that this was the way it had to be, my cock surprisingly rising with the thought of my wife submitting to some man I had never met.

“It’s worse than that,” my wife warned. “He has expectations.”

“Like what?”

“The way I should dress, for one.”

“Which is?”

“Always in a dress or skirt, thigh high stockings and sans panties. His words were he should always have easy access to my slut box. It was always so humiliating and yet…” she paused.

“Yet, what?” I asked, curious and horny from the idea of my seemingly innocent, sweet wife being a submissive slut.

“Yet, a great turn-on,” she admitted. After a pause, she said honestly, “Michael, if I see him, I really may be too weak to resist the temptation.”

“I understand, Laura, but obviously you need this. If I stop you, you will always wonder, eventually resent me and our marriage might fall apart. If you can control yourself, awesome, but you need to know once and for all.”

“I would never,” she began.

“Let me finish. I understand you have needs I am not fulfilling, it seems, and I love you way too much to stop you from anything that makes you happy. You have my permission to do what you feel you need to do,” I said, giving her the green light to cheat on me. Although is it cheating if I give her permission?

“Oh, Michael,” she said, leaning in and hugging me, her hand carelessly falling onto my cock. She looked into my eyes and asked, “Does Maltepe Evi Olan Escort the thought of me submitting sexually as a submissive slut to another guy turn you on?”

I blushed but refused to say anything.

She pulled my cock out again and smiled. “It does, doesn’t it. You are way too nice to treat me as one, but the thought of another guy treating me like a slut gets you excited, doesn’t it?”

She was completely right, but admitting such a thing was humiliating and emasculating. “I wouldn’t say that,” I replied weakly.

She stroked my cock and said things I had never heard come out of her mouth. “I think you do. The thought of your wife being fucked hard by another guy and used as a submissive, dirty, cum slut whore is turning you on, isn’t it?”

I stammered, “W-w-well, I….”

“Admit it,” she demanded, a tone I also never heard from her.

“Yes, dammit,” I finally confessed, ashamed that such an idea would even remotely turn me on.

“Do you want to watch him fuck me, Michael?” she purred, using a seductive tone I had never heard.

I stammered, “M-m-maybe.”

“I think you do,” she smiled, taking my cock back in her mouth. She often gave me head to prime me to make love to her, but only on rare occasions did she get me off only with her mouth; this was one of those times, as she loved feeling her pussy filled with cum. She deep throated me and held my cock in her mouth for an eternity, showing yet another side of her sexual abilities. She then bobbed back and forth furiously, never slowing down and never changing rhythm. Watching her suck my cock with such eagerness, mixed with all the new knowledge I had received, I was ready to shoot my load in only a few minutes. Usually I can last a good while the second time round, but this was not one of those times. I grunted, and warned, like a gentleman, “I’m going to cum baby.”

She didn’t slow down until I began pumping my seed in her mouth. She pulled out and allowed the jet streams of my cum to hit her face. I gasped at yet another naughty slut act. Once I finished coating her face with my cum, she took my cock back in her mouth, this time using her tongue like a snake to swirl around my cock-head.

Finally, she backed away and sat back on the couch, oblivious to the fact that my cum was all over her beautiful face.

I stated at her, dumbfounded.

She finally asked, “So you are really ok with Phillip and me meeting?”

“If that is what you want, yes,” I offered.

She stood up and said, her brain clearly running a mile a minute. “I am not sure it is what I want.” After a moment of silence, as she seemed to be thinking about what I had agreed to, she said, ” I love you, Michael.”

“I love you too, Laura.”

As I watched her head to the bathroom to clean up, I replayed the past hour. What had I just agreed to? Why did it turn me on? I shook my head, pulled up my pants and flipped to ESPN, my mind a mess of bizarre possibilities.

3. A Day at Home Reveals Even More Secrets

Things started to change after that fateful night. Laura started dressing sexier and stayed in her stockings all evening (a pleasant surprise from her baggy comfy sweats she loved do much), we had sex almost daily and she was way more animated in the bedroom. I was in heaven.

I was at home sick, when things took another strange turn. I was on the laptop when a Facebook message popped up. I went to it and it was from Phillip. The message shocked me to my core:


Have you started to prepare your sissy husband for my cock?

This was a task I gave you a few days ago and you have evaded discussing your progress or lack of.

Disobedience is not an option, slut and you will be punished accordingly if I arrive and your fairy-boy is not ready to be my eager bottom.

Master P

P.S.-Until some progress is made you are no longer allowed to have an orgasm.

Ten days till we meet again. Ten days until you begin serving me again like the dirty cunt you are.

I reread the message fifty times, flabbergasted at every crazy word. I was shaking from the nasty names he called her, his crazy notion of me being a willing part of it, but craziest of all, my cock was stiff in my pajama pants. Just like the thought of allowing my wife to be with another man had never occurred to me before the conversation with Laura, the thought of being with another man had never occurred to me either.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I looked at other exchanges between them. There were lots and it was interesting how the tone shifted over time. The first one was so innocent.


Are you going to the reunion? Love to get together and catch up. Add me! I want to see you when I am down for supper before the reunion.


My wife’s response was also innocent in text and tone.


Long time, no talk. Yes, I am going to the reunion, when will you be in town? What are you up to these days?

Supper sounds like a plan.


The next couple were more of the same generic ‘friends getting reacquainted’, before his tone shifted slightly.


I see you are married now, that is quite a disappointment. I was going to suggest we continue where we left off all those years ago.

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