THE COMPUTER NEWBIES
I really should credit my husband with this story, since he came up with the idea and wrote most of it. However, since I did some of the editing, I'm going to list myself as the author. That's fair, isn't it? ;-)
Chapter 1
My wife and I were born long enough ago that we were through with our schooling before computers became widespread, and as a consequence we didn't have one in our home before our children gave us one for our Christmas present two years ago. They spent several hours getting the thing hooked up, connected to the Internet, and then struggling to walk us through something as simple as using e-mail. After that, they gave us a copy of "Windows for Dummies" and left us on our own.
We both had e-mail accounts with a company called Gmail, and all we had to do to read and send letters was click a little picture beside the start button, and like a miracle up popped any letters that had been sent to us. Magic for sure, or so we thought at the time, anyway.
I took the time to read the computer book, and learned how to do some of the basics, and after that, my wife left all the maintenance stuff up to me, which I was glad to do. It was one day about five months ago that I learned how to clean out old letters that were no longer needed, which supposedly needed to be done regularly to save disk space, whatever that is.
One folder that I read about was called "Deleted Items," and my initial reaction to reading that whenever we deleted a letter it didn't really disappear, but was instead stored somewhere else, was, "What the fuck?" If we wanted to save a letter, then we'd save it; when we clicked the "Delete" button, we wanted the damn thing to be gone forever.
Apparently, the nerds at Microsoft thought they knew better. Either that, or they just wanted to make life more difficult for their customers. Whatever, I decided one night when I was home alone that it would be a good time to take care of the housekeeping tasks on our computer, and that's when I accessed the "Deleted Items" folder and started getting rid of the old letters.
I had taken care of the first 15-20 letters when up popped one that my wife had received from "Robert," and the subject line was, "Your beautiful pussy."
Well, that got my attention, for sure, and rather than just highlighting and deleting it, I opened the thing, and that was my first step onto the slippery slope that is leading to my eventual total fixation on the perversion of cuckolding.
When I first saw the letter, I thought it was nothing more than just another piece of spam. Then, when it opened and I read the first line, I knew better.
My dearest, sweetest, most-beautiful Sharon, I'm sitting here right now still savoring the scent and the taste of your pussy, and it's having the same effect on me as it always does: I'm hard as a rock for you, and I want you, and I need you, and I love you more than ever. Nothing hurts as deeply as watching you get out of my bed, get dressed, and then leave me for you husband, who can never in a million years cherish you as much as I do.
When you were here in my bed last night, I just couldn't get enough of kissing and licking and sucking your exquisite breasts. Then, when you began to push my head down your beautiful body, and I knew what you needed me to do, I knew that kissing and licking and sucking your wonderful pussy would be even better.
And it was. Your taste last night was even more delicious than before; your clitoris was even more erect than it had ever been; most of all, when you climaxed on my tongue your cries of delight were louder than they had ever been.
And then, oh, then! You begged me to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you, never stopping until my full nine inches had at last reached the bottom of your wonderful pussy, and all you could do was moan in ecstasy until at last you screamed as you felt the release you have been needing all your life.
How will I ever wait for Sunday night to come? It's only Thursday now, and already I'm so hard for you that I'm ashamed to go out in public. I just know that when others see the bulge you've raised in my pants, they'll snicker to themselves and call me 'pervert,' but that doesn't matter in the least. I know that if any other man were ever lucky enough to have you, to possess you, to kiss you, to lick you, to suck you, but most of all to fuck you while you scream, 'Harder! Deeper! Please don't ever stop!" he, too, would be proud to walk down the street displaying what you have made happen to him.
Please fly to me as soon as you can leave Glenn to himself, my love. You know he can never please you as much as I can. He can never give you the kind of loving you crave so deeply. I am the only man for you, and even though you constantly profess your love for him, I know that in your heart of hearts, you long for me just as much as I for you whenever we're apart.
So, my love, don't make me wait even one second longer that absolutely necessary. When you get him settled Sunday evening, kiss him chastely on the forehead, then come to me, with your beautiful pussy dripping with the evidence of your love for me.
I want you; I need you; I love you.
Robert
I have no idea how long it took me to regain any semblance of sanity, but I'm sure it was several minutes after I'd finished reading that letter. I tried to find rage, I tried to find anger, I tried to find anything that should have been present after learning what I had just learned, but none of those things would come. Instead, the only things I noticed were my ragged breathing, my befogged sight, and one other thing that superseded everything else: I had a hardon that was bigger than any others of my life, and that's saying something for a man who was at the time 48 years old, and had been engaged in sexual activities for many years.
Seemingly out of my control, my hand moved toward my crotch, gripped my penis through my trousers more tightly that ever in my life. One stroke up and one down was all it took, and the hot evidence of my lust filled my undershorts. Spurt after spurt escaped from my balls, then from the head of my organ, where it responded to gravity and began to run down my abdomen, to pool between my legs.
I gasped for breath again as I pictured my wife lying naked in another man's bed, her beautiful body spread for him as he mounted her and pushed his manhood as deeply inside her as it would go. In my mind's eye I saw her hips frantically thrust up to meet his downstroke, and I heard her cries of passion, all things that had been missing from our marriage since the first year after our wedding.
And then, unable to stop myself, I scrolled down the list of deleted letters until at last I saw the first one from her lover, and then after I read it, I opened her very-first reply to him, and read it, too. After that I was simply lost in the lust their words produced in my brain and my body, and as I read each impassioned word, each description of the things he had done to her, and she to him, I stroked myself again.
And then again, and then again after that, until at last, following four ejaculations in the space of less than two hours, my overused and abused penis could no longer achieve erection. Unable to stay awake even one moment longer, I closed the e-mail program, shut down the computer, and stumbled to bed. I don't even remember getting under the covers, but I must have done so, because that's where I was when I returned to a semi-conscious state as Sharon got in bed with me.
The clock beside the bed was displaying the time of 12:34 when my half-open eyes looked toward it, and my first lucid thought was that she had never remained away from home that long before. She had left right after supper, heading for the fellowship meeting at the church she had been attending for more than a year, and I tried to think of a reason she would have stayed there so late.
It was at that moment when the thought blossomed in my semi-awake brain, and I knew the truth of it with no further thought.
"She's been in Robert's bed!" was the sentence which ran through my head over and over, and just that simple thought was enough to restore the lust that had overcome me just a few hours before. My penis was instantly erect, and as it forced my undershorts to adjust to it, I could feel how they were glued to my pubic hair by the dried cum that had soaked them earlier.
When she sensed I was awake, Sharon moved over beside me and whispered, "Hi, Honey. Did you miss me?" Then, as her leg brushed against my crotch, she gripped my once-again-raging organ, then laughed as she tried to say, "Yep. That's what it feels like."
And then I inhaled her scent, and my mind went blank. She was seemingly covered in a cloud of musky, deeply-exciting aromas, and as I lowered my head to her neck and kissed it, I breathed as deeply as possible. It was only when I had inhaled her scent several times that I was able to gasp out, "You smell so good! I've never smelled anything like that!"
Her response was to whisper, "I'm glad you like it, Honey. I got it especially for you." Then, as she placed one hand on the back of my head and pushed it down to her chest, her voice became ragged as she wispered, "Breathe deep, Honey. Doesn't it smell good? It's all for you."
To say I was out of my head at that point would be nothing but an understatement, and I gave myself over to kissing and licking her breasts, almost like a starving puppy trying to get every bite of food out of his dish. Then my lips found her swollen nipples, and I was in paradise. I sucked first one and then the other as deeply as possible into my mouth, savoring the taste of what she had for me, and wondering why I'd never before noticed how wonderful she smelled and tasted.
I could hear her moaning deep in her throat as I nursed, and that sound of her own arousal just made me all the more frantic to increase it. Then, as her hands pushed against my head, she whimpered, "Please, Honey. Please go down on me. Help me!"
I had never been eager to give her oral sex during the previous years of our marriage, but that night nothing else mattered but doing what she wanted and needed. I began to kiss and lick my way down her body, following what seemed to be nothing more than a scent and taste trail that had been laid down just for the purpose of guiding me to the target I had to find.
Down and down my lips and tongue moved, until I at last reached her bush, and there my eager mouth and nose found so much of what was needed that I was closer to passing out than I'd ever been before. Whatever the source of her delicious scent and taste could be, it was centered in that region of her body, and my animal brain took over. It guided my head even lower, and when the angle was all wrong, I moved my legs between hers and crouched on my knees as my busy tongue kept seeking the treasure it so desperately needed.
As I crouched there between her widespread legs, I placed both hands under her bottom and lifted it off the sheet as I leaned forward, guided by my nose. Suddenly that part of my face encountered what seemed to be a wad of cloth, and in my eagerness to serve the wonderful creature who was spread before me, I'm sure I would simply have sucked whatever it was into my mouth and swallowed it.
The only thing that kept me from doing that was her ragged whisper that came from far above.
"Wait, Honey. Let me get my panties out of the way."
I felt her fingers brush my face, and then the offending barrier to her treasure was gone, and I didn't need her raspy, "There. Now eat it. Get all of it out of me," to press my mouth to her opening and lick what I had to have.
Again she whispered instructions, and again I blindly followed them.
"Lick lower, Honey. It's running out of my pussy, and it tickles really awful. Lick way down and get it."
I lowered my head until my tongue was laving that part of her body that it had never before touched, and in fact, a part of her that I once would have thought of as dirty and disgusting. That night, though, nothing else mattered but that I lap up every drop of her delicious juices and swallow them just as quickly as possible. And so I did.
Over and over I licked all around her puckered opening, coating my tongue with as much juice as it could carry, and then bringing it back inside my mouth so it could send the prize to my stomach. I licked and even sucked that part of her with all my concentration, and was just starting to force my tongue inside it when she gasped, "Now! Get your mouth on my pussy hole and suck! Hurry, damn you! Do it!"
And I did. I centered my mouth over that part of her body just as she cried out in wordless lust, and as I tried to inhale all of her with all my strength, my mouth filled with her juices. I swallowed as quickly as I could, but even before I was ready for it, her next spasm forced another load into my mouth, and then I was lost in a world that consisted of nothing but her orgasm spurting more and more of her wonderful juices into my body.
I don't know how long it took for me to understand that what I'd been hearing for a long time was the sound of her chuckling deep in her throat. By then, there was no more juice left in her pussy, and my stomach felt so full that I was sure I wouldn't need to eat anything else for many days, if not weeks.
From somewhere far, far away I heard her voice saying softly, "Honey, I think you've sucked out most of it. Your tongue would have to be nine inches long to reach the rest. Why don't you come back up here so we can get some sleep?" Then as I moved out of the way, she closed her legs, leaving me aching for more, but unable to think of any way to make that happen.
As soon as I was beside her once again, she rolled over on her tummy, then as she sighed in contentment, she whispered so low could barely hear.
"That was the best climax . . . you ever . . . gave me. I love you . . . so much."
And then with one deep breath, she had fallen asleep, leaving me lying there wide awake, desperate to cum, but entirely unable to "take myself in hand," so to say, for fear of awakening her. I truly believe I've never been so driven to jack off, but somehow I found the strength to not do that, because I knew she wouldn't want me to do it.
So I didn't, and after an eternity or two, I at last fell asleep beside the most wonderful, most beautiful, sexiest woman in the whole world.
THE COMPUTER NEWBIES
Chapter 2
When I came awake the next morning, which was a Monday, the clock told me I had barely one hour to try to prepare my still-exhausted body and brain for another day in the classroom, trying to teach my university-level students how to "write right," as those of us who teach English often say.
Sharon was in the kitchen when I at last hurried down the stairs. Luckily the coffeepot was finished perking, and I could pour myself a cup, give her a fervent hug and thank her for what she'd done for me the night before. She had been singing at the top of her voice when I'd come into the room, and when she saw me her face was wreathed in a huge smile that made me feel good all over.
She knew I was running late, and gave me a quick hug, handed me the sack lunch she always had ready for me, and said in her cheery voice, "See you tonight, lover. Just don't be counting on more of the same, because you really wore me out last night." Then, after a pregnant pause, she said softly, "Maybe we can do that again Wednesday night, when I come home from the meeting."
Giving me a quick swat on my butt to send me down the hallway, then laughing as I hurried to the garage door, she headed back upstairs, where I knew she'd soon be working on her latest romance novel. She had been writing those stories for many years, and to tell the truth, her income exceeded what I made as a full professor at the university. I had always encouraged her efforts, because I knew it was a fulfilling labor of love for her, and she deserved it.
All that day I was so distracted that I barely knew what I was saying, or even if my lectures were on the correct subject for the class. About all I could think of was the first letter from Robert that I had read on our computer, and then when I had fully absorbed it, all the others that started all those months ago.
There was no doubt, whatsoever, that my wife had taken a lover more than a year ago, and that the two of them had been meeting regularly ever since that time. From the dates on their letters, I knew their trysts took place on Sunday nights and Wednesdays nights, and that Sharon had been using the same excuse to be away from home at those times.
Neither of us had been at all religious during our years together, and that was why it had been surprising when she announced that she was going to be attending a Bible-study group every Wednesday evening, as well as a Fellowship meeting every Sunday evening. I tried to question her about her sudden "conversion," but all she would say was that she wanted to investigate a part of life that she'd never before tried.
I remember offering to accompany her to the church, but she told me in no uncertain terms that it was something she had to do on her own. So, since it really didn't bother me that she had found an outside interest that was entirely innocent, I just let it drop, and even began to enjoy having some private time of my own, so I could watch sports on TV, or work on term papers when necessary. In short, her having "time off" from our marriage was no big deal.
It became a big deal, big time, when I put two and two together and suddenly realized that her "religious studies" coincided perfectly with the liaisons implied by the letters in the "Deleted Items" folder. Every letter from Robert was sent either Thursday morning or Monday morning, and every reply from her was sent the morning or afternoon of those same days.
In short, my wife was fucking him when she was supposedly at a church, and he was writing her the following morning, describing how wonderful their lovemaking had been and how delicious her pussy tasted. I could certainly sympathize with that last part, given that for the first time in years, I had sampled those delights with my own lips and tongue.
And then it hit me, standing there in front of one of my classes: She was at home right then, writing back to him, telling him how much she loved him, and how good it felt to have his cock inside her, and how when she got home, she had made her husband go down on her and clean up the mess another man had put in her pussy.
As the students stared at me, I made some excuse about not feeling well, and left the room. When I got to the department office, I gave some made-up excuse to the secretary, and as she expressed her sympathy for my illness, I hurried down the hallway and out to my car.
It took me about half an hour to get home, and although I practiced over and over what I was going to say to Sharon when I got there, I still had no idea in hell what to do when she asked why I was home early. Luckily for me, she wasn't home, and when I had gone from room to room to make sure that was the case, I actually ran to our computer and turned it on.
The few minutes required for it to boot had to have been the longest in my entire life, and I was a nervous wreck by the time I could open the e-mail program. Then it was a matter of seconds to open the "Deleted Items" folder, and right there on the top of the list was a letter she'd written that morning, just a few minutes after receiving the one right below it. That second letter, as you probably already know, was from Robert.
I opened his letter first, and as I avidly read his words, my poor cock was once again struggling to empty the overloaded balls hanging right under it.
My dearest, sweetest love,
I hope everything went according to plan last night. I've been on pins and needles ever since you left, anxious to know if your husband did as he was supposed to, and went down on you to lick and suck every drop of my cum from your wonderful pussy. I know that same plan has worked flawlessly on other husbands, and I doubt Glenn is any more resistant to a horny wife than all the others who have been trained in that manner.
Please let me know soonest if he's been 'broken to halter,' to coin a phrase. If so, then we can proceed to introduce him to the next phase, which should take even less time. If he's the kind of man I think he is, I think we can expect to take him to the first meeting of the upcoming month. I know you're undoubtedly even more anxious than I to see him sucking off every man there, or being bred by them (or, given what I know of you, of sucking and being bred at the same time.
)) ) I know you've needed to see that for a long time, but I caution you to remain calm and collected, because he's at the tipping point right now, and we have to proceed with all due caution.
Surely he'll be ready, if not wildly eager, to be the 'guest of honor' at the festival of Bacchus in two months. It was a damn shame that the fellow who was our guest last year left town shortly afterwards, because his eagerness for what we did to him made it all the more erotic and arousing, as I'm sure you remember.
So, don't keep me waiting, my love. Write soonest.
Robert
I don't even remember opening Sharon's letter of reply, but suddenly it appeared on the screen, and I read it and then read it again, and then read it for a third time before I could even begin to understand what she and her lover had planned for me.
Dearest Lover,
To cut to the chase: Yes, it worked! It worked far better than even you expected, even though you had warned me that Glenn's personality type quite often harbors a deep, abiding need for humiliation. Now I'm hoping that you're also correct about his need to be punished and to feel pain, especially you know where. ;-)
God, Lover, just thinking about it being him on the table at the festival this spring is making me so hot that I'm going to have to stop typing and take care of a pressing need.
X X X X X X X X X
There, that's better. Sometimes a girl just has to take herself in hand, if you know what I mean. ;-)
Anyway, to get back to last night: As soon as I got undressed I dipped my fingers in my pussy and then spread some of the double load of cum on my neck, then on both boobs, and finally made a slime trail down my belly to my crotch. I figured once his nose got that close, the primitive part of his brain would take over, just as you've always told me, and he could find his way to where the main course was awaiting his dining pleasure. ;-)
Worked perfectly, too. I had barely had time to get settled under the covers when he was sniffing my neck and telling me how good it smelled. Then he started kissing it, and that led to licking, and I just barely touched the top of his head before his mouth found the smears of your cum on my boobs, and then he just went crazy.
I know you'd warned me that a man who's genetically-predisposed to being a cuckold can become frantic when he smells another man's cum on his wife, but I never in a million years thought that would apply to my Glenn. But, it does, for sure! God, he just went out of his skull as he lapped up every drop of your stuff, and then before I could even think to give his head a push down my body, he was on his hands and knees beside me and kissing and licking as fast as he could.
When he finally got his tongue in my slit, I knew it was time for the main event, so I spread my legs and sorta pushed his body down between them. I guess he got the idea right away, because he got into place on his knees, put his hands under by bottom, and then lifted my pussy up to his face. I barely had time to get my wadded-up panties out of the way, or he'd probably have eaten them. ;-)))
Anyway, like you suggested as a test of his submissiveness, I told him "it" was running down my crack, and it tickled like crazy and I needed him to get it. All of a sudden his tongue was laving my back door like it was the best-tasting thing ever, and it felt so good that I just sort of relaxed back there and let him put it inside me. I don't have any doubt at all that if I'd let him keep doing that, he'd have started sucking me there as hard as he could, and you know what always happens when one of the men at the club does that to me. ;-))
I finally got control of myself and told him to suck my pussy, and he moved his head back up where it needed to be. I started frigging my clit as soon as he had his lips locked around my pussy hole, and all of a sudden everything came together, so to speak, so I "came" right along with it. Damn, that was good!
I don't believe I've ever seen any of the husbands at the club so enthusiastic about sucking another man's cum out of his wife's pussy, but Glenn sure was last night. He was moaning and whimpering so loud that I was really glad our kids are both gone from home by now; otherwise, they'd probably have thought I was torturing their daddy, and called the police. ;-)
Well, that's pretty much what happened. So, it looks like you were right about Glenn's personality, doesn't it? Now I suppose the next step is to get him used to having you in bed with us so we can check out his willingness to suck you off and let you fuck him, too.
Oh, by the way, when do you want me to put the cock cage on him? It wasn't much of a problem to keep him from cumming last night, because by the time I got home, he'd already shot his wad in his shorts, maybe more than once, judging by how stiff they were. ;-)
I'd like to cage him sooner than later, because I know he'll be easier to train once we have him where he can't cum and he's horny all the time. Let's work on that part of the schedule when I come over Sunday evening. Okay, lover? I know you're looking forward to having his mouth and asshole at your disposal, and the sooner we get him trained, the sooner that'll happen.
See you Sunday.
With all my love for you, my sweet lover,
Sharon
I have no idea how long I sat there in front of the computer, mindlessly thinking about their letters, and everything they implied. I guess it never occurred to me to be angry that my wife and her lover had been discussing plans to not only make me a helpless cuckold, but to also train me to be the "boy toy" of another man.
I was simply unable to deal with the idea that my wife had been attending meetings of a club whose members were women and their lovers, as well as their submissive husbands. As far as the reference to me being their "guest of honor" at some sort of festival, where my body would be put on a table and used to entertain the others, that was just so far from my experience that I couldn't hold it in my mind.
And then I heard the garage door being opened, and I knew Sharon was home and was going to catch me reading her letters if I didn't wake up right then and there.
I barely had time to shut down the computer and go to our bedroom before she was coming up the stairs yelling, "Hi, honey! I saw your car in the garage. Why are you home so early?"
I had been taking off my clothes so she would think I had just arrived and was changing out of my teaching duds when she walked through the door, and the evil way she laughed and pointed at my midsection was the first indication that my natural response to the letters was still evident. When I glanced down, I saw that my undershorts were tented out from my body, and the huge wet spot said more plainly than words that I was aroused.
She walked over to me still chuckling, then before I could say anything at all she gripped my erection in one hand and did her best to crush it. Her other hand went around my shoulders, pulled my head down to hers, and kissed me with the same passion I had demonstrated when I kissed her pussy just hours before.
She whispered that tired feminist phrase, "A hard man is good to find," before I could think of anything that would explain my condition, and then moved her thumb and forefinger up my shaft. She gripped that most-tender part of any man's body, which is right under the head of his penis, then pinched and twisted it as she looked right at my face and asked, "You like that, don't you?"
I don't believe that I've ever wanted to cum as much as I did right then, but the intense pain she was giving me short-circuited the signals, and I couldn't make my ejaculation happen. She kept on chuckling as she pinched and pulled and twisted, and when she could see that my urge to cum had passed, she relented and pulled her hand away, still chuckling as she said, "That'll let you know who's in charge around here, won't it, honey?"
All I could do was stand there trying to deal with the pain in my cock, and try to come to terms with how such pain could give me so much pleasure. For her part, Sharon gave me a final peck on the cheek, then as she turned to walk away said, "I am in charge, right, honey?"
My subdued answer of, "Always," was enough to make her laugh out loud as she left the room while announcing that dinner would be ready in about an hour. And with that I was left to my own devices as I struggled with the choice of getting dressed in my everyday clothes, or jacking off first.
The former won, and when I went down to the kitchen to help her, I was still so hard that I was afraid the thing would break off if I accidentally ran into the wall.
I have no recollection at all about what we said during dinner, but I suppose she talked about her progress on her new novel, and I mentioned some interesting things that had happened at the university. I do remember that after we had cleared the table and put all the dishes and silverware in the dishwasher, she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You look beat, honey, and I feel the same way, so why don't we just go to bed now. Besides, there's something really important we need to talk about, and I think bed would be the best place for that. Okay?"
Being in bed with her was just about the only thing I'd been thinking of all day long, and my simple reply was to take her hand in mine, and as I pulled her toward the stairway, say, "Sounds good."
It took lots longer for us to prepare ourselves for bed that time than probably ever before, because as we stood in our shared bathroom, Sharon removed every scrap of her clothes and then stood in front of the mirror brushing her hair. I was completely entranced by the sight of the naked woman in the mirror in front of me, especially how her beautiful breasts swayed easily back and forth in time to the movements of her arm.
She must have noticed me staring at the display she was making, and I heard her chuckle deep in her throat, then say, "Honey, why don't you get undressed, too? It's not fair that you get to see me buck naked, but I don't have anything interesting to look at."
I was helpless to resist her suggestion, and a few seconds later my clothes were hanging on the hooks on the bathroom door, and I was standing beside her brushing my teeth. My penis was again, or maybe still, distended, and it was swaying from side to side like her breasts. The added element of seeing such a wanton display in a mirror seemed to increase the arousal I was feeling, and given the way her nipples were growing, she evidently felt the same way.
At last we were under the covers, and after a passionate kiss was shared, Sharon rolled to her back. I could hear her take a deep breath in the darkened bedroom, and then she began by saying, "Honey, I'm going to tell you something really important, and I know it's going to be hard for me. Please don't interrupt me, and maybe I can get all the way through with what I have to say. Okay?"
I must have made some sort of reply, because she began telling me something that left me stunned, if not completely catatonic.
THE COMPUTER NEWBIES
Chapter 3
"Do you remember a couple years ago when you volunteered to help a doctoral candidate in Psychology evaluate a test he was devising that would supposedly determine which type of personality a person has?"
I did remember that time, although it was just one of many times I'd agreed to help a grad student with his research. So, I replied, "Yes, I remember doing something like that, but I can't recall the student's name, or much of anything else about his project. I think there was some sort of follow-up interview with the student's advisor, but I can't remember his name, either."
She continued, "The student isn't important, honey. The research project was actually set up by Dr. Robert _________, who's the guy in charge of counseling student and faculty who have psychological issues."
The mention of that particular first name, "Robert," sent a chill coursing through my entire body, because I had accepted that not only did Sharon have a lover, but that his name was the same as the counselor who had apparently been conducting the research.
That sudden thought took up no time in the real world, and her words weren't interrupted in the least by what had flashed through my mind.
"The research project was actually done to help him select possible new members for a club that has been operating here for several years. Every member is a woman who's cuckolding her husband, along with her lover and her cuckold husband. Robert designed the test to detect the personality traits that are common to all cuckolds, and he's been using it for years to find those traits, and the men who have them. After his test finds suitable men, he interviews them to find out if the results were accurate or not, and then if they were, he contacts their wives to see if they're interested in joining the club."
Before Sharon had told me that part of her story, I probably thought I had heard everything, and was incapable of being shocked. Right then, though, I was definitely shocked, if not even stunned. And what she told me next did nothing but increase that state of mind.
"Well, he did contact me right after he'd done the follow-up interview with you, but it's not as if he called me or came to the house. What he actually did was to ask some of the other women in the club if they knew me, and when my friend, Mary Ann, said she did, he appointed her to be the one to talk to me about cuckolding you.
"It was a couple days after that when she came here to the house, and I don't really remember her excuse for doing that, but it was probably just something about not having seen me for a few weeks, and she wanted to catch up on all the gossip. I remember I made some coffee for us, and we sat in the kitchen and talked for a while, and then all of a sudden she asked, 'Sharon, have you ever thought about taking a lover? I did that a few years ago, and it was the best thing that's ever happened in my marriage.'
"She then went on and on, telling me about what a good lover he was, and how he always made her climax, unlike Derrick [her husband], and how much happier she was with her life. In short, the simple act of cheating on her husband was the best thing she'd ever done, and she wanted me to think about doing the same thing.
"I don't know why I ever gave it a second thought, but by the next day I had thought about it so much that I called her and asked her how she found her lover. She just laughed and said she was sure I'd be calling her before much longer, and she already had her answer ready. Then she told me she'd already made arrangements with a man she called 'Robert' to meet us for lunch the next day at a restaurant in town. She said that if I wasn't at all impressed by him, that would be the end of it, but she absolutely guaranteed that I'd fall head over heels in love with him, and it would be the best thing that'd ever happened to me, as well as my marriage.
"Well, I agreed to meet him as long as she was there with me, which she told me she would be, and that was the end of it. The next day I went with Mary Ann to meet Robert, and by the time I'd eaten whatever it was the waitress put in front of me, I had become fascinated by him. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and feeling at any time, and he always said the right thing to make me feel comfortable, or even a little bit turned on.
"After we'd finished lunch, he invited the two of us to his home, and Mary Ann was so enthusiastic that I just couldn't turn down the invitation, and so we followed his car as he drove to a development north of town. Once we got there, he served us some wine that was pretty strong, and the next thing I knew I was sitting between them on the couch and both of them were kissing me and fondling me, and then my clothes were falling off and so were theirs, and then we were on the floor and he was kissing and sucking my boobs and Mary Ann was between my legs licking me and then he was on top of me with his cock inside my pussy and she was sitting on my face and I was cumming and cumming and I didn't want it to ever stop.
"That was when we decided that I'd tell you I was going to be attending church classes ever Wednesday and Sunday evening, and I've been going to the cuckold club meetings twice a week ever since. And in case you haven't guessed by now, that's where I'd been before I got in bed with you last night. And in case you don't already know, it was Robert's cum along with another man's you were licking and sucking out of my pussy."
She stopped talking then, and except for our ragged breathing, the room was quiet. My head was spinning so fast that I was afraid I was going to need to run to the bathroom, but the sound of her asking, "Honey, do you have any questions about all this?" brought me back to a tiny semblance of reality.
My only response must have sounded pretty silly to her, because she started laughing out loud as soon as I croaked, "Mary Ann . . .?"
She was lying there laughing hysterically, with her fists and heels pounding the mattress, and I was actually scared that she was having a mental breakdown. That fear disappeared, though, when she at last calmed down a bit, then after she caught her breath she answered my implied question.
"Yeah, Mary Ann and I started having sex together when we were in junior high school, and we still do it occasionally even now. I'd like to make love to her more often than we do, but she became really involved with the club a long time ago, and I guess the women and men in it are more interesting than I am."
She stopped to collect her thoughts for a few seconds, then went back to what she'd been telling me before.
"After Robert was finished fucking me, I told him I wanted to join the club, and I asked him to help me get started with cuckolding you. He told me the simplest way would be for me to become a member of the club, and when you were ready I could bring you to one of the meetings. I asked him how I could get you to cooperate, because I didn't have any idea how to go about it.
"He said the best way to see how serious you were about wanting to wear the horns was to feed you another man's cum, and see how you reacted to that. Of course, that just led to me asking him how to get you to go down on me, and he told me about smearing fresh cum on my body when I came home from the club.
"Well, in case you haven't already guessed, that's what I did as soon as I got home last night. God, I just can't believe how turned on you got when you smelled another man's cum on my neck, and then you found some more on my boobs, and then you started eating all their cum out of my pussy, it just drove me crazy. I didn't know you could still get me that hot, but there was just something about it being so . . . so . . . 'dirty,' I guess, that I got really hot and bothered when you did it.
"And that was when I made the decision that you're going to go with me to the club next Sunday evening. I want you to be there when all the men gang-bang me, and then I want to see how red your face gets when I make you eat every drop of their cum. But most of all, I want to see you doing something else, something that Robert told me you've been keeping hidden for a long time."
She gave me another chance to ask questions, and after fumbling attempts to get started, I was finally able to ask, "Are we already members of the club? Is that all there is to it?"
In her most-serious tone of voice, she answered, "Honey, those people are really picky. No one wants to take a chance of getting a new member who'll run around blabbing about what we're doing, because the consequences could be pretty awful. I've been a member for several months, but that doesn't mean you'll automatically be accepted. First you'll be on probation, and if the rest of the guys think you'll fit in, then you can become a full member.
"When I take you to the Sunday meeting, the main thing they'll be watching for is how enthusiastic you are about watching other men fuck me, and how hungry you get just thinking about all that cum they're putting inside my pussy. Then, if you eat everything I feed you, they'll let me bring you to the next meeting, too.
"The second time they'll see how you react when we make you go down on another man, and how much you like having him cum down your throat. It's also a big thing that you cooperate if another man wants to fuck you. One of the favorite things we do is to have a woman bend over a table backwards, with her feet on the floor, and then to have some of the bulls fuck her.
"While she's doing that, her husband will be bent over the table right beside her, but he'll be face down. Usually what the bulls do is to dip their cocks in her pussy to get them nice and slippery, and then move to her husband and fuck him in the ass."
And then she asked me the question that had to be asked, and when I gave my answer, the course of our lives, and our marriage, was set for all time.
"Honey, do you think you could ever let that sort of thing happen? Do you really want to be my cuckold, even if it means that you'll have to watch other men make love to me, but you'll never again be allowed to do that? Can you suck off other men and eat their cum, and let them fuck you in your bottom? Can you do that for me, honey?"
There was no other possible answer than the one I gasped out as she twisted and pulled on that supremely-sensitive part of my member, and it burst forth from my lips with no conscious thought on my part.
"Yes! Please! It has to happen!"
Her only response was to get out of bed, then pull me to my feet using nothing but her grip on my penis. As she led me out of the room, she said matter-of-factly, "I suppose you know that I own this part of you from now on, and the first thing I'm going to do to my new toy is put it in a cock cage. That'll keep it from getting hard ever again, and you'll be horny all the time, which is exactly how I want you."
Then she laughed all the way to the bathroom, where she made me sit in a tub full of cold water with ice cubes floating in it. She said that was guaranteed to make my organ soft, so it would fit inside the cage.
And it did.
The End
Questions or comments? Please write to me at: sharon_smif@yahoo.com.
I really should credit my husband with this story, since he came up with the idea and wrote most of it. However, since I did some of the editing, I'm going to list myself as the author. That's fair, isn't it? ;-)
Chapter 1
My wife and I were born long enough ago that we were through with our schooling before computers became widespread, and as a consequence we didn't have one in our home before our children gave us one for our Christmas present two years ago. They spent several hours getting the thing hooked up, connected to the Internet, and then struggling to walk us through something as simple as using e-mail. After that, they gave us a copy of "Windows for Dummies" and left us on our own.
We both had e-mail accounts with a company called Gmail, and all we had to do to read and send letters was click a little picture beside the start button, and like a miracle up popped any letters that had been sent to us. Magic for sure, or so we thought at the time, anyway.
I took the time to read the computer book, and learned how to do some of the basics, and after that, my wife left all the maintenance stuff up to me, which I was glad to do. It was one day about five months ago that I learned how to clean out old letters that were no longer needed, which supposedly needed to be done regularly to save disk space, whatever that is.
One folder that I read about was called "Deleted Items," and my initial reaction to reading that whenever we deleted a letter it didn't really disappear, but was instead stored somewhere else, was, "What the fuck?" If we wanted to save a letter, then we'd save it; when we clicked the "Delete" button, we wanted the damn thing to be gone forever.
Apparently, the nerds at Microsoft thought they knew better. Either that, or they just wanted to make life more difficult for their customers. Whatever, I decided one night when I was home alone that it would be a good time to take care of the housekeeping tasks on our computer, and that's when I accessed the "Deleted Items" folder and started getting rid of the old letters.
I had taken care of the first 15-20 letters when up popped one that my wife had received from "Robert," and the subject line was, "Your beautiful pussy."
Well, that got my attention, for sure, and rather than just highlighting and deleting it, I opened the thing, and that was my first step onto the slippery slope that is leading to my eventual total fixation on the perversion of cuckolding.
When I first saw the letter, I thought it was nothing more than just another piece of spam. Then, when it opened and I read the first line, I knew better.
My dearest, sweetest, most-beautiful Sharon, I'm sitting here right now still savoring the scent and the taste of your pussy, and it's having the same effect on me as it always does: I'm hard as a rock for you, and I want you, and I need you, and I love you more than ever. Nothing hurts as deeply as watching you get out of my bed, get dressed, and then leave me for you husband, who can never in a million years cherish you as much as I do.
When you were here in my bed last night, I just couldn't get enough of kissing and licking and sucking your exquisite breasts. Then, when you began to push my head down your beautiful body, and I knew what you needed me to do, I knew that kissing and licking and sucking your wonderful pussy would be even better.
And it was. Your taste last night was even more delicious than before; your clitoris was even more erect than it had ever been; most of all, when you climaxed on my tongue your cries of delight were louder than they had ever been.
And then, oh, then! You begged me to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you, never stopping until my full nine inches had at last reached the bottom of your wonderful pussy, and all you could do was moan in ecstasy until at last you screamed as you felt the release you have been needing all your life.
How will I ever wait for Sunday night to come? It's only Thursday now, and already I'm so hard for you that I'm ashamed to go out in public. I just know that when others see the bulge you've raised in my pants, they'll snicker to themselves and call me 'pervert,' but that doesn't matter in the least. I know that if any other man were ever lucky enough to have you, to possess you, to kiss you, to lick you, to suck you, but most of all to fuck you while you scream, 'Harder! Deeper! Please don't ever stop!" he, too, would be proud to walk down the street displaying what you have made happen to him.
Please fly to me as soon as you can leave Glenn to himself, my love. You know he can never please you as much as I can. He can never give you the kind of loving you crave so deeply. I am the only man for you, and even though you constantly profess your love for him, I know that in your heart of hearts, you long for me just as much as I for you whenever we're apart.
So, my love, don't make me wait even one second longer that absolutely necessary. When you get him settled Sunday evening, kiss him chastely on the forehead, then come to me, with your beautiful pussy dripping with the evidence of your love for me.
I want you; I need you; I love you.
Robert
I have no idea how long it took me to regain any semblance of sanity, but I'm sure it was several minutes after I'd finished reading that letter. I tried to find rage, I tried to find anger, I tried to find anything that should have been present after learning what I had just learned, but none of those things would come. Instead, the only things I noticed were my ragged breathing, my befogged sight, and one other thing that superseded everything else: I had a hardon that was bigger than any others of my life, and that's saying something for a man who was at the time 48 years old, and had been engaged in sexual activities for many years.
Seemingly out of my control, my hand moved toward my crotch, gripped my penis through my trousers more tightly that ever in my life. One stroke up and one down was all it took, and the hot evidence of my lust filled my undershorts. Spurt after spurt escaped from my balls, then from the head of my organ, where it responded to gravity and began to run down my abdomen, to pool between my legs.
I gasped for breath again as I pictured my wife lying naked in another man's bed, her beautiful body spread for him as he mounted her and pushed his manhood as deeply inside her as it would go. In my mind's eye I saw her hips frantically thrust up to meet his downstroke, and I heard her cries of passion, all things that had been missing from our marriage since the first year after our wedding.
And then, unable to stop myself, I scrolled down the list of deleted letters until at last I saw the first one from her lover, and then after I read it, I opened her very-first reply to him, and read it, too. After that I was simply lost in the lust their words produced in my brain and my body, and as I read each impassioned word, each description of the things he had done to her, and she to him, I stroked myself again.
And then again, and then again after that, until at last, following four ejaculations in the space of less than two hours, my overused and abused penis could no longer achieve erection. Unable to stay awake even one moment longer, I closed the e-mail program, shut down the computer, and stumbled to bed. I don't even remember getting under the covers, but I must have done so, because that's where I was when I returned to a semi-conscious state as Sharon got in bed with me.
The clock beside the bed was displaying the time of 12:34 when my half-open eyes looked toward it, and my first lucid thought was that she had never remained away from home that long before. She had left right after supper, heading for the fellowship meeting at the church she had been attending for more than a year, and I tried to think of a reason she would have stayed there so late.
It was at that moment when the thought blossomed in my semi-awake brain, and I knew the truth of it with no further thought.
"She's been in Robert's bed!" was the sentence which ran through my head over and over, and just that simple thought was enough to restore the lust that had overcome me just a few hours before. My penis was instantly erect, and as it forced my undershorts to adjust to it, I could feel how they were glued to my pubic hair by the dried cum that had soaked them earlier.
When she sensed I was awake, Sharon moved over beside me and whispered, "Hi, Honey. Did you miss me?" Then, as her leg brushed against my crotch, she gripped my once-again-raging organ, then laughed as she tried to say, "Yep. That's what it feels like."
And then I inhaled her scent, and my mind went blank. She was seemingly covered in a cloud of musky, deeply-exciting aromas, and as I lowered my head to her neck and kissed it, I breathed as deeply as possible. It was only when I had inhaled her scent several times that I was able to gasp out, "You smell so good! I've never smelled anything like that!"
Her response was to whisper, "I'm glad you like it, Honey. I got it especially for you." Then, as she placed one hand on the back of my head and pushed it down to her chest, her voice became ragged as she wispered, "Breathe deep, Honey. Doesn't it smell good? It's all for you."
To say I was out of my head at that point would be nothing but an understatement, and I gave myself over to kissing and licking her breasts, almost like a starving puppy trying to get every bite of food out of his dish. Then my lips found her swollen nipples, and I was in paradise. I sucked first one and then the other as deeply as possible into my mouth, savoring the taste of what she had for me, and wondering why I'd never before noticed how wonderful she smelled and tasted.
I could hear her moaning deep in her throat as I nursed, and that sound of her own arousal just made me all the more frantic to increase it. Then, as her hands pushed against my head, she whimpered, "Please, Honey. Please go down on me. Help me!"
I had never been eager to give her oral sex during the previous years of our marriage, but that night nothing else mattered but doing what she wanted and needed. I began to kiss and lick my way down her body, following what seemed to be nothing more than a scent and taste trail that had been laid down just for the purpose of guiding me to the target I had to find.
Down and down my lips and tongue moved, until I at last reached her bush, and there my eager mouth and nose found so much of what was needed that I was closer to passing out than I'd ever been before. Whatever the source of her delicious scent and taste could be, it was centered in that region of her body, and my animal brain took over. It guided my head even lower, and when the angle was all wrong, I moved my legs between hers and crouched on my knees as my busy tongue kept seeking the treasure it so desperately needed.
As I crouched there between her widespread legs, I placed both hands under her bottom and lifted it off the sheet as I leaned forward, guided by my nose. Suddenly that part of my face encountered what seemed to be a wad of cloth, and in my eagerness to serve the wonderful creature who was spread before me, I'm sure I would simply have sucked whatever it was into my mouth and swallowed it.
The only thing that kept me from doing that was her ragged whisper that came from far above.
"Wait, Honey. Let me get my panties out of the way."
I felt her fingers brush my face, and then the offending barrier to her treasure was gone, and I didn't need her raspy, "There. Now eat it. Get all of it out of me," to press my mouth to her opening and lick what I had to have.
Again she whispered instructions, and again I blindly followed them.
"Lick lower, Honey. It's running out of my pussy, and it tickles really awful. Lick way down and get it."
I lowered my head until my tongue was laving that part of her body that it had never before touched, and in fact, a part of her that I once would have thought of as dirty and disgusting. That night, though, nothing else mattered but that I lap up every drop of her delicious juices and swallow them just as quickly as possible. And so I did.
Over and over I licked all around her puckered opening, coating my tongue with as much juice as it could carry, and then bringing it back inside my mouth so it could send the prize to my stomach. I licked and even sucked that part of her with all my concentration, and was just starting to force my tongue inside it when she gasped, "Now! Get your mouth on my pussy hole and suck! Hurry, damn you! Do it!"
And I did. I centered my mouth over that part of her body just as she cried out in wordless lust, and as I tried to inhale all of her with all my strength, my mouth filled with her juices. I swallowed as quickly as I could, but even before I was ready for it, her next spasm forced another load into my mouth, and then I was lost in a world that consisted of nothing but her orgasm spurting more and more of her wonderful juices into my body.
I don't know how long it took for me to understand that what I'd been hearing for a long time was the sound of her chuckling deep in her throat. By then, there was no more juice left in her pussy, and my stomach felt so full that I was sure I wouldn't need to eat anything else for many days, if not weeks.
From somewhere far, far away I heard her voice saying softly, "Honey, I think you've sucked out most of it. Your tongue would have to be nine inches long to reach the rest. Why don't you come back up here so we can get some sleep?" Then as I moved out of the way, she closed her legs, leaving me aching for more, but unable to think of any way to make that happen.
As soon as I was beside her once again, she rolled over on her tummy, then as she sighed in contentment, she whispered so low could barely hear.
"That was the best climax . . . you ever . . . gave me. I love you . . . so much."
And then with one deep breath, she had fallen asleep, leaving me lying there wide awake, desperate to cum, but entirely unable to "take myself in hand," so to say, for fear of awakening her. I truly believe I've never been so driven to jack off, but somehow I found the strength to not do that, because I knew she wouldn't want me to do it.
So I didn't, and after an eternity or two, I at last fell asleep beside the most wonderful, most beautiful, sexiest woman in the whole world.
THE COMPUTER NEWBIES
Chapter 2
When I came awake the next morning, which was a Monday, the clock told me I had barely one hour to try to prepare my still-exhausted body and brain for another day in the classroom, trying to teach my university-level students how to "write right," as those of us who teach English often say.
Sharon was in the kitchen when I at last hurried down the stairs. Luckily the coffeepot was finished perking, and I could pour myself a cup, give her a fervent hug and thank her for what she'd done for me the night before. She had been singing at the top of her voice when I'd come into the room, and when she saw me her face was wreathed in a huge smile that made me feel good all over.
She knew I was running late, and gave me a quick hug, handed me the sack lunch she always had ready for me, and said in her cheery voice, "See you tonight, lover. Just don't be counting on more of the same, because you really wore me out last night." Then, after a pregnant pause, she said softly, "Maybe we can do that again Wednesday night, when I come home from the meeting."
Giving me a quick swat on my butt to send me down the hallway, then laughing as I hurried to the garage door, she headed back upstairs, where I knew she'd soon be working on her latest romance novel. She had been writing those stories for many years, and to tell the truth, her income exceeded what I made as a full professor at the university. I had always encouraged her efforts, because I knew it was a fulfilling labor of love for her, and she deserved it.
All that day I was so distracted that I barely knew what I was saying, or even if my lectures were on the correct subject for the class. About all I could think of was the first letter from Robert that I had read on our computer, and then when I had fully absorbed it, all the others that started all those months ago.
There was no doubt, whatsoever, that my wife had taken a lover more than a year ago, and that the two of them had been meeting regularly ever since that time. From the dates on their letters, I knew their trysts took place on Sunday nights and Wednesdays nights, and that Sharon had been using the same excuse to be away from home at those times.
Neither of us had been at all religious during our years together, and that was why it had been surprising when she announced that she was going to be attending a Bible-study group every Wednesday evening, as well as a Fellowship meeting every Sunday evening. I tried to question her about her sudden "conversion," but all she would say was that she wanted to investigate a part of life that she'd never before tried.
I remember offering to accompany her to the church, but she told me in no uncertain terms that it was something she had to do on her own. So, since it really didn't bother me that she had found an outside interest that was entirely innocent, I just let it drop, and even began to enjoy having some private time of my own, so I could watch sports on TV, or work on term papers when necessary. In short, her having "time off" from our marriage was no big deal.
It became a big deal, big time, when I put two and two together and suddenly realized that her "religious studies" coincided perfectly with the liaisons implied by the letters in the "Deleted Items" folder. Every letter from Robert was sent either Thursday morning or Monday morning, and every reply from her was sent the morning or afternoon of those same days.
In short, my wife was fucking him when she was supposedly at a church, and he was writing her the following morning, describing how wonderful their lovemaking had been and how delicious her pussy tasted. I could certainly sympathize with that last part, given that for the first time in years, I had sampled those delights with my own lips and tongue.
And then it hit me, standing there in front of one of my classes: She was at home right then, writing back to him, telling him how much she loved him, and how good it felt to have his cock inside her, and how when she got home, she had made her husband go down on her and clean up the mess another man had put in her pussy.
As the students stared at me, I made some excuse about not feeling well, and left the room. When I got to the department office, I gave some made-up excuse to the secretary, and as she expressed her sympathy for my illness, I hurried down the hallway and out to my car.
It took me about half an hour to get home, and although I practiced over and over what I was going to say to Sharon when I got there, I still had no idea in hell what to do when she asked why I was home early. Luckily for me, she wasn't home, and when I had gone from room to room to make sure that was the case, I actually ran to our computer and turned it on.
The few minutes required for it to boot had to have been the longest in my entire life, and I was a nervous wreck by the time I could open the e-mail program. Then it was a matter of seconds to open the "Deleted Items" folder, and right there on the top of the list was a letter she'd written that morning, just a few minutes after receiving the one right below it. That second letter, as you probably already know, was from Robert.
I opened his letter first, and as I avidly read his words, my poor cock was once again struggling to empty the overloaded balls hanging right under it.
My dearest, sweetest love,
I hope everything went according to plan last night. I've been on pins and needles ever since you left, anxious to know if your husband did as he was supposed to, and went down on you to lick and suck every drop of my cum from your wonderful pussy. I know that same plan has worked flawlessly on other husbands, and I doubt Glenn is any more resistant to a horny wife than all the others who have been trained in that manner.
Please let me know soonest if he's been 'broken to halter,' to coin a phrase. If so, then we can proceed to introduce him to the next phase, which should take even less time. If he's the kind of man I think he is, I think we can expect to take him to the first meeting of the upcoming month. I know you're undoubtedly even more anxious than I to see him sucking off every man there, or being bred by them (or, given what I know of you, of sucking and being bred at the same time.
)) ) I know you've needed to see that for a long time, but I caution you to remain calm and collected, because he's at the tipping point right now, and we have to proceed with all due caution.Surely he'll be ready, if not wildly eager, to be the 'guest of honor' at the festival of Bacchus in two months. It was a damn shame that the fellow who was our guest last year left town shortly afterwards, because his eagerness for what we did to him made it all the more erotic and arousing, as I'm sure you remember.
So, don't keep me waiting, my love. Write soonest.
Robert
I don't even remember opening Sharon's letter of reply, but suddenly it appeared on the screen, and I read it and then read it again, and then read it for a third time before I could even begin to understand what she and her lover had planned for me.
Dearest Lover,
To cut to the chase: Yes, it worked! It worked far better than even you expected, even though you had warned me that Glenn's personality type quite often harbors a deep, abiding need for humiliation. Now I'm hoping that you're also correct about his need to be punished and to feel pain, especially you know where. ;-)
God, Lover, just thinking about it being him on the table at the festival this spring is making me so hot that I'm going to have to stop typing and take care of a pressing need.
X X X X X X X X X
There, that's better. Sometimes a girl just has to take herself in hand, if you know what I mean. ;-)
Anyway, to get back to last night: As soon as I got undressed I dipped my fingers in my pussy and then spread some of the double load of cum on my neck, then on both boobs, and finally made a slime trail down my belly to my crotch. I figured once his nose got that close, the primitive part of his brain would take over, just as you've always told me, and he could find his way to where the main course was awaiting his dining pleasure. ;-)
Worked perfectly, too. I had barely had time to get settled under the covers when he was sniffing my neck and telling me how good it smelled. Then he started kissing it, and that led to licking, and I just barely touched the top of his head before his mouth found the smears of your cum on my boobs, and then he just went crazy.
I know you'd warned me that a man who's genetically-predisposed to being a cuckold can become frantic when he smells another man's cum on his wife, but I never in a million years thought that would apply to my Glenn. But, it does, for sure! God, he just went out of his skull as he lapped up every drop of your stuff, and then before I could even think to give his head a push down my body, he was on his hands and knees beside me and kissing and licking as fast as he could.
When he finally got his tongue in my slit, I knew it was time for the main event, so I spread my legs and sorta pushed his body down between them. I guess he got the idea right away, because he got into place on his knees, put his hands under by bottom, and then lifted my pussy up to his face. I barely had time to get my wadded-up panties out of the way, or he'd probably have eaten them. ;-)))
Anyway, like you suggested as a test of his submissiveness, I told him "it" was running down my crack, and it tickled like crazy and I needed him to get it. All of a sudden his tongue was laving my back door like it was the best-tasting thing ever, and it felt so good that I just sort of relaxed back there and let him put it inside me. I don't have any doubt at all that if I'd let him keep doing that, he'd have started sucking me there as hard as he could, and you know what always happens when one of the men at the club does that to me. ;-))
I finally got control of myself and told him to suck my pussy, and he moved his head back up where it needed to be. I started frigging my clit as soon as he had his lips locked around my pussy hole, and all of a sudden everything came together, so to speak, so I "came" right along with it. Damn, that was good!
I don't believe I've ever seen any of the husbands at the club so enthusiastic about sucking another man's cum out of his wife's pussy, but Glenn sure was last night. He was moaning and whimpering so loud that I was really glad our kids are both gone from home by now; otherwise, they'd probably have thought I was torturing their daddy, and called the police. ;-)
Well, that's pretty much what happened. So, it looks like you were right about Glenn's personality, doesn't it? Now I suppose the next step is to get him used to having you in bed with us so we can check out his willingness to suck you off and let you fuck him, too.
Oh, by the way, when do you want me to put the cock cage on him? It wasn't much of a problem to keep him from cumming last night, because by the time I got home, he'd already shot his wad in his shorts, maybe more than once, judging by how stiff they were. ;-)
I'd like to cage him sooner than later, because I know he'll be easier to train once we have him where he can't cum and he's horny all the time. Let's work on that part of the schedule when I come over Sunday evening. Okay, lover? I know you're looking forward to having his mouth and asshole at your disposal, and the sooner we get him trained, the sooner that'll happen.
See you Sunday.
With all my love for you, my sweet lover,
Sharon
I have no idea how long I sat there in front of the computer, mindlessly thinking about their letters, and everything they implied. I guess it never occurred to me to be angry that my wife and her lover had been discussing plans to not only make me a helpless cuckold, but to also train me to be the "boy toy" of another man.
I was simply unable to deal with the idea that my wife had been attending meetings of a club whose members were women and their lovers, as well as their submissive husbands. As far as the reference to me being their "guest of honor" at some sort of festival, where my body would be put on a table and used to entertain the others, that was just so far from my experience that I couldn't hold it in my mind.
And then I heard the garage door being opened, and I knew Sharon was home and was going to catch me reading her letters if I didn't wake up right then and there.
I barely had time to shut down the computer and go to our bedroom before she was coming up the stairs yelling, "Hi, honey! I saw your car in the garage. Why are you home so early?"
I had been taking off my clothes so she would think I had just arrived and was changing out of my teaching duds when she walked through the door, and the evil way she laughed and pointed at my midsection was the first indication that my natural response to the letters was still evident. When I glanced down, I saw that my undershorts were tented out from my body, and the huge wet spot said more plainly than words that I was aroused.
She walked over to me still chuckling, then before I could say anything at all she gripped my erection in one hand and did her best to crush it. Her other hand went around my shoulders, pulled my head down to hers, and kissed me with the same passion I had demonstrated when I kissed her pussy just hours before.
She whispered that tired feminist phrase, "A hard man is good to find," before I could think of anything that would explain my condition, and then moved her thumb and forefinger up my shaft. She gripped that most-tender part of any man's body, which is right under the head of his penis, then pinched and twisted it as she looked right at my face and asked, "You like that, don't you?"
I don't believe that I've ever wanted to cum as much as I did right then, but the intense pain she was giving me short-circuited the signals, and I couldn't make my ejaculation happen. She kept on chuckling as she pinched and pulled and twisted, and when she could see that my urge to cum had passed, she relented and pulled her hand away, still chuckling as she said, "That'll let you know who's in charge around here, won't it, honey?"
All I could do was stand there trying to deal with the pain in my cock, and try to come to terms with how such pain could give me so much pleasure. For her part, Sharon gave me a final peck on the cheek, then as she turned to walk away said, "I am in charge, right, honey?"
My subdued answer of, "Always," was enough to make her laugh out loud as she left the room while announcing that dinner would be ready in about an hour. And with that I was left to my own devices as I struggled with the choice of getting dressed in my everyday clothes, or jacking off first.
The former won, and when I went down to the kitchen to help her, I was still so hard that I was afraid the thing would break off if I accidentally ran into the wall.
I have no recollection at all about what we said during dinner, but I suppose she talked about her progress on her new novel, and I mentioned some interesting things that had happened at the university. I do remember that after we had cleared the table and put all the dishes and silverware in the dishwasher, she said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You look beat, honey, and I feel the same way, so why don't we just go to bed now. Besides, there's something really important we need to talk about, and I think bed would be the best place for that. Okay?"
Being in bed with her was just about the only thing I'd been thinking of all day long, and my simple reply was to take her hand in mine, and as I pulled her toward the stairway, say, "Sounds good."
It took lots longer for us to prepare ourselves for bed that time than probably ever before, because as we stood in our shared bathroom, Sharon removed every scrap of her clothes and then stood in front of the mirror brushing her hair. I was completely entranced by the sight of the naked woman in the mirror in front of me, especially how her beautiful breasts swayed easily back and forth in time to the movements of her arm.
She must have noticed me staring at the display she was making, and I heard her chuckle deep in her throat, then say, "Honey, why don't you get undressed, too? It's not fair that you get to see me buck naked, but I don't have anything interesting to look at."
I was helpless to resist her suggestion, and a few seconds later my clothes were hanging on the hooks on the bathroom door, and I was standing beside her brushing my teeth. My penis was again, or maybe still, distended, and it was swaying from side to side like her breasts. The added element of seeing such a wanton display in a mirror seemed to increase the arousal I was feeling, and given the way her nipples were growing, she evidently felt the same way.
At last we were under the covers, and after a passionate kiss was shared, Sharon rolled to her back. I could hear her take a deep breath in the darkened bedroom, and then she began by saying, "Honey, I'm going to tell you something really important, and I know it's going to be hard for me. Please don't interrupt me, and maybe I can get all the way through with what I have to say. Okay?"
I must have made some sort of reply, because she began telling me something that left me stunned, if not completely catatonic.
THE COMPUTER NEWBIES
Chapter 3
"Do you remember a couple years ago when you volunteered to help a doctoral candidate in Psychology evaluate a test he was devising that would supposedly determine which type of personality a person has?"
I did remember that time, although it was just one of many times I'd agreed to help a grad student with his research. So, I replied, "Yes, I remember doing something like that, but I can't recall the student's name, or much of anything else about his project. I think there was some sort of follow-up interview with the student's advisor, but I can't remember his name, either."
She continued, "The student isn't important, honey. The research project was actually set up by Dr. Robert _________, who's the guy in charge of counseling student and faculty who have psychological issues."
The mention of that particular first name, "Robert," sent a chill coursing through my entire body, because I had accepted that not only did Sharon have a lover, but that his name was the same as the counselor who had apparently been conducting the research.
That sudden thought took up no time in the real world, and her words weren't interrupted in the least by what had flashed through my mind.
"The research project was actually done to help him select possible new members for a club that has been operating here for several years. Every member is a woman who's cuckolding her husband, along with her lover and her cuckold husband. Robert designed the test to detect the personality traits that are common to all cuckolds, and he's been using it for years to find those traits, and the men who have them. After his test finds suitable men, he interviews them to find out if the results were accurate or not, and then if they were, he contacts their wives to see if they're interested in joining the club."
Before Sharon had told me that part of her story, I probably thought I had heard everything, and was incapable of being shocked. Right then, though, I was definitely shocked, if not even stunned. And what she told me next did nothing but increase that state of mind.
"Well, he did contact me right after he'd done the follow-up interview with you, but it's not as if he called me or came to the house. What he actually did was to ask some of the other women in the club if they knew me, and when my friend, Mary Ann, said she did, he appointed her to be the one to talk to me about cuckolding you.
"It was a couple days after that when she came here to the house, and I don't really remember her excuse for doing that, but it was probably just something about not having seen me for a few weeks, and she wanted to catch up on all the gossip. I remember I made some coffee for us, and we sat in the kitchen and talked for a while, and then all of a sudden she asked, 'Sharon, have you ever thought about taking a lover? I did that a few years ago, and it was the best thing that's ever happened in my marriage.'
"She then went on and on, telling me about what a good lover he was, and how he always made her climax, unlike Derrick [her husband], and how much happier she was with her life. In short, the simple act of cheating on her husband was the best thing she'd ever done, and she wanted me to think about doing the same thing.
"I don't know why I ever gave it a second thought, but by the next day I had thought about it so much that I called her and asked her how she found her lover. She just laughed and said she was sure I'd be calling her before much longer, and she already had her answer ready. Then she told me she'd already made arrangements with a man she called 'Robert' to meet us for lunch the next day at a restaurant in town. She said that if I wasn't at all impressed by him, that would be the end of it, but she absolutely guaranteed that I'd fall head over heels in love with him, and it would be the best thing that'd ever happened to me, as well as my marriage.
"Well, I agreed to meet him as long as she was there with me, which she told me she would be, and that was the end of it. The next day I went with Mary Ann to meet Robert, and by the time I'd eaten whatever it was the waitress put in front of me, I had become fascinated by him. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and feeling at any time, and he always said the right thing to make me feel comfortable, or even a little bit turned on.
"After we'd finished lunch, he invited the two of us to his home, and Mary Ann was so enthusiastic that I just couldn't turn down the invitation, and so we followed his car as he drove to a development north of town. Once we got there, he served us some wine that was pretty strong, and the next thing I knew I was sitting between them on the couch and both of them were kissing me and fondling me, and then my clothes were falling off and so were theirs, and then we were on the floor and he was kissing and sucking my boobs and Mary Ann was between my legs licking me and then he was on top of me with his cock inside my pussy and she was sitting on my face and I was cumming and cumming and I didn't want it to ever stop.
"That was when we decided that I'd tell you I was going to be attending church classes ever Wednesday and Sunday evening, and I've been going to the cuckold club meetings twice a week ever since. And in case you haven't guessed by now, that's where I'd been before I got in bed with you last night. And in case you don't already know, it was Robert's cum along with another man's you were licking and sucking out of my pussy."
She stopped talking then, and except for our ragged breathing, the room was quiet. My head was spinning so fast that I was afraid I was going to need to run to the bathroom, but the sound of her asking, "Honey, do you have any questions about all this?" brought me back to a tiny semblance of reality.
My only response must have sounded pretty silly to her, because she started laughing out loud as soon as I croaked, "Mary Ann . . .?"
She was lying there laughing hysterically, with her fists and heels pounding the mattress, and I was actually scared that she was having a mental breakdown. That fear disappeared, though, when she at last calmed down a bit, then after she caught her breath she answered my implied question.
"Yeah, Mary Ann and I started having sex together when we were in junior high school, and we still do it occasionally even now. I'd like to make love to her more often than we do, but she became really involved with the club a long time ago, and I guess the women and men in it are more interesting than I am."
She stopped to collect her thoughts for a few seconds, then went back to what she'd been telling me before.
"After Robert was finished fucking me, I told him I wanted to join the club, and I asked him to help me get started with cuckolding you. He told me the simplest way would be for me to become a member of the club, and when you were ready I could bring you to one of the meetings. I asked him how I could get you to cooperate, because I didn't have any idea how to go about it.
"He said the best way to see how serious you were about wanting to wear the horns was to feed you another man's cum, and see how you reacted to that. Of course, that just led to me asking him how to get you to go down on me, and he told me about smearing fresh cum on my body when I came home from the club.
"Well, in case you haven't already guessed, that's what I did as soon as I got home last night. God, I just can't believe how turned on you got when you smelled another man's cum on my neck, and then you found some more on my boobs, and then you started eating all their cum out of my pussy, it just drove me crazy. I didn't know you could still get me that hot, but there was just something about it being so . . . so . . . 'dirty,' I guess, that I got really hot and bothered when you did it.
"And that was when I made the decision that you're going to go with me to the club next Sunday evening. I want you to be there when all the men gang-bang me, and then I want to see how red your face gets when I make you eat every drop of their cum. But most of all, I want to see you doing something else, something that Robert told me you've been keeping hidden for a long time."
She gave me another chance to ask questions, and after fumbling attempts to get started, I was finally able to ask, "Are we already members of the club? Is that all there is to it?"
In her most-serious tone of voice, she answered, "Honey, those people are really picky. No one wants to take a chance of getting a new member who'll run around blabbing about what we're doing, because the consequences could be pretty awful. I've been a member for several months, but that doesn't mean you'll automatically be accepted. First you'll be on probation, and if the rest of the guys think you'll fit in, then you can become a full member.
"When I take you to the Sunday meeting, the main thing they'll be watching for is how enthusiastic you are about watching other men fuck me, and how hungry you get just thinking about all that cum they're putting inside my pussy. Then, if you eat everything I feed you, they'll let me bring you to the next meeting, too.
"The second time they'll see how you react when we make you go down on another man, and how much you like having him cum down your throat. It's also a big thing that you cooperate if another man wants to fuck you. One of the favorite things we do is to have a woman bend over a table backwards, with her feet on the floor, and then to have some of the bulls fuck her.
"While she's doing that, her husband will be bent over the table right beside her, but he'll be face down. Usually what the bulls do is to dip their cocks in her pussy to get them nice and slippery, and then move to her husband and fuck him in the ass."
And then she asked me the question that had to be asked, and when I gave my answer, the course of our lives, and our marriage, was set for all time.
"Honey, do you think you could ever let that sort of thing happen? Do you really want to be my cuckold, even if it means that you'll have to watch other men make love to me, but you'll never again be allowed to do that? Can you suck off other men and eat their cum, and let them fuck you in your bottom? Can you do that for me, honey?"
There was no other possible answer than the one I gasped out as she twisted and pulled on that supremely-sensitive part of my member, and it burst forth from my lips with no conscious thought on my part.
"Yes! Please! It has to happen!"
Her only response was to get out of bed, then pull me to my feet using nothing but her grip on my penis. As she led me out of the room, she said matter-of-factly, "I suppose you know that I own this part of you from now on, and the first thing I'm going to do to my new toy is put it in a cock cage. That'll keep it from getting hard ever again, and you'll be horny all the time, which is exactly how I want you."
Then she laughed all the way to the bathroom, where she made me sit in a tub full of cold water with ice cubes floating in it. She said that was guaranteed to make my organ soft, so it would fit inside the cage.
And it did.
The End
Questions or comments? Please write to me at: sharon_smif@yahoo.com.
