For myself the first cuckolding I got looms large in the memory by its primacy, and its leading to others
. I had never imagined when me and the ex got married that I would end up a cuckold. I’m not even sure I could have defined “cuckold” very accurately. But apparently she figured out fairly early in the marriage that I could be turned into a cuckold easily enough. We had moved to a new city for my ex’s job. A somewhat older couple, one of whom (I don’t remember which) worked in the same field as her. That winter the ex and the guy were in a local theater production: lots of late nights, but I assumed there were always other people around, so I had no suspicions. After that production ended, he had told her that he was leaving his wife, and asked to stay at our flat until he found a place to live. As he and wife had been kind to us, I figured why not. The night he arrived was spent talking and drinking. The next morning I left for work as usual.
The encounter I describe here is my wife’s account she related to me in rather excited terms when I came home that evening. The guy was then gone. But in the morning he was still in bed in the extra room when I left. My wife was doing something in the kitchen when she heard him in the shower. Shortly after, he came into the room and called to her. When she turned around she saw him standing there with only a bath towel around him, which he immediately dropped to the floor to reveal his erection projecting out. In relating this she was fixed on how she admired and found his erect cock so sexy, with its strong, horizontal projection, and the problem of how far she should go with him. She wouldn’t go past that admission. In my later experiences she developed a real taste for taunting me about what was going on, knowing that my naivate would keep me from admitting the facts to myself.
My hesitancy now in just dismissing the whole event as unrelated to my later humiliations in guys cuckolding me is that she could have let the whole thing pass without a mention and I would have been none-the-wiser. But perhaps this was her way of avoiding having to explain, should a story ever get back to me, that this guy had plowed my wife, by having already told me her more innocent version. Obviously, she did want me to know that she was impressed with this guy’s erection, and was at least thinking about how nice it would feel in her. So I never discovered how many times he took her that day in the kitchen and in what positions.
There is one bit of further part of the story indicating that indeed this was the first time I was given the horns. I never met the guy again, but his best friend was a member of my working group. He was an odd guy who over beers after work liked to pump other guys about their wives’ sexual performances and details of their bodies. It may have been his way of demonstrating how sexually liberal he was, but I think it was really a substitute for his not getting much sex, and wanting to imagine himself fucking any of our wives. He would ask one of the group probing questions about his girl’s body or sexual performance, and offer his own guesses, to which the husband’s response would provide the information for him later to jerk off. I thought him a complete ass, so I never responded to his probes. His fantasy guesses for answers to the questions he put to us not surprisingly were almost always wrong. After the incident in the kitchen, his attention seemed to focuse excessively on my wife. But in the case of my ex, although he had never met her or even seen her, he got all the sexual details he described exactly right: the thickness and shape of her bush, the shape and specific hue of her labia, her facial expression when an erection first slides into her pussy, her flushing strongly along the top of the chest when she cums. I had to control my anger when such a creep seemed to know precisely how my ex appeared and behaved when she was getting fucked. But I fear what I was confronted with here was really the description of my wife being plowed in the kitchen that morning, which her lover happily passed on to his friend so they both could have some fun with the cuckold husband. So began my journey to discover that I could, in sad fact, be made a cuckold.
. I had never imagined when me and the ex got married that I would end up a cuckold. I’m not even sure I could have defined “cuckold” very accurately. But apparently she figured out fairly early in the marriage that I could be turned into a cuckold easily enough. We had moved to a new city for my ex’s job. A somewhat older couple, one of whom (I don’t remember which) worked in the same field as her. That winter the ex and the guy were in a local theater production: lots of late nights, but I assumed there were always other people around, so I had no suspicions. After that production ended, he had told her that he was leaving his wife, and asked to stay at our flat until he found a place to live. As he and wife had been kind to us, I figured why not. The night he arrived was spent talking and drinking. The next morning I left for work as usual.The encounter I describe here is my wife’s account she related to me in rather excited terms when I came home that evening. The guy was then gone. But in the morning he was still in bed in the extra room when I left. My wife was doing something in the kitchen when she heard him in the shower. Shortly after, he came into the room and called to her. When she turned around she saw him standing there with only a bath towel around him, which he immediately dropped to the floor to reveal his erection projecting out. In relating this she was fixed on how she admired and found his erect cock so sexy, with its strong, horizontal projection, and the problem of how far she should go with him. She wouldn’t go past that admission. In my later experiences she developed a real taste for taunting me about what was going on, knowing that my naivate would keep me from admitting the facts to myself.
My hesitancy now in just dismissing the whole event as unrelated to my later humiliations in guys cuckolding me is that she could have let the whole thing pass without a mention and I would have been none-the-wiser. But perhaps this was her way of avoiding having to explain, should a story ever get back to me, that this guy had plowed my wife, by having already told me her more innocent version. Obviously, she did want me to know that she was impressed with this guy’s erection, and was at least thinking about how nice it would feel in her. So I never discovered how many times he took her that day in the kitchen and in what positions.
There is one bit of further part of the story indicating that indeed this was the first time I was given the horns. I never met the guy again, but his best friend was a member of my working group. He was an odd guy who over beers after work liked to pump other guys about their wives’ sexual performances and details of their bodies. It may have been his way of demonstrating how sexually liberal he was, but I think it was really a substitute for his not getting much sex, and wanting to imagine himself fucking any of our wives. He would ask one of the group probing questions about his girl’s body or sexual performance, and offer his own guesses, to which the husband’s response would provide the information for him later to jerk off. I thought him a complete ass, so I never responded to his probes. His fantasy guesses for answers to the questions he put to us not surprisingly were almost always wrong. After the incident in the kitchen, his attention seemed to focuse excessively on my wife. But in the case of my ex, although he had never met her or even seen her, he got all the sexual details he described exactly right: the thickness and shape of her bush, the shape and specific hue of her labia, her facial expression when an erection first slides into her pussy, her flushing strongly along the top of the chest when she cums. I had to control my anger when such a creep seemed to know precisely how my ex appeared and behaved when she was getting fucked. But I fear what I was confronted with here was really the description of my wife being plowed in the kitchen that morning, which her lover happily passed on to his friend so they both could have some fun with the cuckold husband. So began my journey to discover that I could, in sad fact, be made a cuckold.
