First-Time Cuckold

by Vivi King

  “That’s right! Fuck me Pete! Fuck me! Make me yours!”

  The words were like pulling a trigger. A strange growl came from his throat and a moment later the head of his long, slim cock was pressed hard against my tight entrance. There had been no time for me to lubricate so when his buttocks tightened and his smooth head was forced into my dry, resisting vagina I yelped with pain.

  “Ha! That’s good! Scream, you slut. I hope it hurts!”

  His words were harsh and his face ugly but I still didn’t resist – or even want to resist.

  “Just fuck me!” I repeated over and over again. “Fuck your slut wife like she deserves!”

  To my astonishment, at these words my body began to respond instantly, my vagina weeping copiously onto the painfully invading phallus. What was this? Did I enjoy being abused and abusing myself?

  “What are you Penny?” he growled, thrusting himself deep into me, the pain still strong but quickly fading as moisture seeped out of my body.

  “A slut! I’m a slut, an unfaithful slut!” I gasped, feeling hotter and more aroused by the moment.

  ‘”That’s right, Penny! You’re a slut; a slut wife... who likes... other men’s cocks... in her cunt!’

  He matched his violent thrusts to his words. With the pain rapidly fading, it felt amazing; overwhelming as if the man I had known for so long had turned into something new, hard, strong, frighteningly passionate but at the same time truly exciting again.

  “Oh yes!” I responded. Pete’s cock was now thrusting freely in and out of my body as I lay helpless across the kitchen table. “Fuck your slut wife’s cunt, Cuckold!”

  His thrusts became wilder and more powerful, driving me up the table with each stroke. I grabbed at its edge with both hands; my body held helpless, my knees trapped in the crook of his elbows as he pulled me forcibly onto his long, thin erection, battering my cervix with each powerful forward stroke.

  “Nnnngh! Nnnngh!”

  Pete’s grunts were animal-like as he took possession of me completely, hammering noisily into my body. My vagina was now wet and loose around his shaft but his long, thin cock reached so deep into me it felt as if he would stop my heart.

  “Yes! Oh Yes...” I heard my own voice loudly wailing.

  The speed of his strokes increased and then to my amazement, I began to cum. For the first time in a year I began to climax on my husband’s cock, freely and wildly, helpless and at his mercy on my back on the kitchen table.

  “MmmmmmmMMMMMM!”

  “Yes!” he growled, his voice almost triumphant, “Cum for me you slut! Cum hard like HE makes you cum!”

  My back arched, my hips tilted forward, driving my clitoris onto the top of his shaft as another wave of orgasm washed over me.

  “Mmmmmmyyyyyeesssssss!”

  As a third pulse of orgasm rippled through me I felt the head of my husband’s cock swelling deep within me and realised he was about to cum too. Moments later his strong handsome face twisted as Tony’s had done and with an incoherent animal grunt he began to ejaculate inside me, his thrusts short, sharp and uncontrolled.

  “Aaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwyyyessss!”

  I wailed into the morning air, my body now out of control, my legs wrapped around his lower back as if trying to draw him even deeper into me.

  “OhmyGodddddddd!”

  Pete’s ejaculation seemed to last forever, his expression changing from pain to lust to love and back to pain over and over as his long slim cock pumped semen into my over-sized vagina. The warm, fundamentally female feeling of being inseminated by a powerful man washed over me again; the life- affirming sensation I had loved all my life.

  And then it was over. For a few minutes we remained motionless, me naked on my back on the kitchen table, my legs splayed wide, my hands gripping the table edge. My husband held himself still inside me, panting as he recovered his breath and his cock softened, his trousers ludicrously bunched around his ankles.

  “Are you alright?” he eventually asked as his flaccid cock slipped out of me and a pool of goo trickled

  onto the table top beneath my bottom.

  I nodded, still short of breath, stunned by unexpected the intensity of my orgasm and of his.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his dreamy eyes on mine.

  I shook my head and forced a smile. It wasn’t true; he had hurt me; my vagina was very sore from the dry penetration and my lower back was bruised from being hammered into the hard table top so violently. But there was nothing to be gained from telling him and it didn’t really matter; we were still a couple.

  Pete took my hands in his and gently helped me to my feet. I stood alongside the sticky table, my legs wobbly and unstable; my head spinning while he pulled up his pants and trousers. Then he smoothed my nightgown down, wrapped my bathrobe carefully around my shoulders lovingly and hugged me again, my head against his strong chest.

  “Sorry! I couldn’t help it,” he murmured into my ear.

  ‘It’s okay,” I replied. “I wanted it. I think I deserved it. “

  He hugged me longer, kissing my hair and my neck.

  “Do I know him?” He eventually asked uncertainly as my body’s trembling subsided.

  “You said you didn’t want to know.”

  “I don’t think I can be that strong,” he replied. “I’ve got to know who he is.”

  “Then yes,” I said flatly. “You do know him.”

  He paused.

  “Do I know him well?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a longer pause.

  “It’s Tony isn’t it?” he stated flatly. I nodded, my head lowered. Then I started as he laughed loudly

  and hollowly.

  “The cheeky bastard! I thought he was my friend!”

  ‘He is your friend, Pete. It’s just that he... I mean we...”

  “It’s just that he’s been fucking my wife for the last month! Bastard!”

  There was a long pause while my husband tried to come to terms with the painful news. I could see his face contorting in mental anguish then a strange almost lascivious look came over him.

  “I guess he’s been after you for years. I’ve always known it but I never thought he’d ever actually get you!” he chuckled. “I bet he didn’t think he would either.”

  “You’re okay with it being him?”

  He thought for a minute.

  “To be honest, if you have to have a lover then it could be a lot worse. He cares for you a lot, I know he does and I think you’ve always had a soft spot for him too. Remember the Medical Ball?”

  I certainly did; it was the time of my first ‘near-miss’. I hadn’t realized my husband had known about it and for so long.

  “He’s a good looking bastard too but you’re right, he’ll be very discreet.”

  He kissed me again.

  “Have you thought about how you want to do it? I don’t mean in bed I mean...”

  I laughed, “I understand, silly!”

  “Well?’

  “It depends what you think you could live with?” I replied, still amazed at the calmness with which he was taking it all. Pete thought for a while.

  “I wondered about that half the night. I’m really not sure. Maybe one date a week? Maybe the occasional weekend? I really don’t know. The last few nights I felt betrayed and hurt. This morning I

  feel different.”

  “How different? What have you been doing the last two days?”

  “I’m not sure,” again he ignored the second part of my question. “In the darkness on my own it felt as if my life was collapsing all around me. Now in the daylight it seems... well, almost exciting; sort of new and unknown and, in a way, thrilling - like all my fantasies have come true.”

  This I had not been expecting but to be honest, now I knew I hadn’t destroyed our marriage, I felt something similar growing inside me too.

  “How I’ll feel if I meet Tony is a different matter,” he continued. “Did he seduce you? Did you put up
a fight?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I began and briefly told him about our meeting on the train and how things had overtaken us both when he had dropped me off. I left out the bit about my erotic writing – I didn’t want anyone other than my one close girlfriend to know about that.

  “So your first fuck was here on our lounge floor?” Pete asked. I nodded. Told out loud, it did sound rather sordid. “Show me!” he said excitedly.

  I silently led him out of the kitchen, across the hallway and into the lounge where I pointed to the end of the sofa and the rug on the floor in front.

  “Just there,” I said, my voice nervous and hoarse.

  “Where were you lying?”

  “With my head against the sofa.”

  “And your bottom?”

  I thought for a moment then pointed with my foot to a place on the rug which might have been about right – in truth I had been so fuddled by Tony’s fucking that I really had little idea. To my surprise, Pete dropped to his knees and began to inspect the carpet.

  “It was over a month ago,” I said softly. “There won’t be any marks now.”

  But Pete just ignored me and continued to look.

  “Did you plan it when he brought you home?” he asked.

  “No. Honestly, it just sort of happened,” I said, hoping I sounded truthful. It was the truth after all.

  “So he stripped you right here? You were in your work suit?”

  I nodded again.

  “And he fucked you right here? You had an orgasm right there on the floor?”

  “Yes but...”

  “There’s a small stain right here,” he announced triumphantly, pointing to an all but invisible dark patch before looking upwards straight into my eyes. “Did you use a condom? Be honest Pen, you’ve got to be totally honest with me now if we’re going to make this work.”

  “It all happened too fast, we...”

  “Did he cum inside you?” he interrupted, his voice hard and firm.

  I lowered my head in embarrassment as he rose to his feet alongside me then I nodded slowly as if ashamed.

  “He did? You fucked him unprotected and actually let him cum inside you?”

  His eyes were wide and sparkling as he gasped the words. My stomach churned. Was this a step too far? I felt tears beginning to form in my eyes.

  “Jesus Penny! That’s the most erotic thing I’ve heard in my entire life!”

  He kissed me on the lips before quietly leaving the room. Moments later I heard his footsteps climbing the stairs and the sound of the en-suite shower running.

  I stood alone in the lounge staring at the scene of the crime. There was indeed a small dark patch roughly where Tony had fucked me but surely it was just a coincidence. I really hadn’t been sure where he and I had first done the deed but the idea was apparently making my husband so very happy why would I spoil his enjoyment?

  I breathed out slowly as I realized that undeservedly, it might all be all right after all. I had confessed and Pete had – eventually – accepted that his fantasy had come true, though perhaps not in the way he had imagined. He had taken me violently, almost brutally but the force of his passion had actually produced a rare and welcome orgasm with my husband too.

  I suppose that said something about the ‘new me’ or even the ‘new us’.

  Listening to the shower upstairs, I began to realize what a remarkable man my husband actually was, how much I loved both him and the strange desires he had. And of course the desires I now had myself.

  How our new lifestyle would develop and change remained to be seen but as I began to climb the stairs I felt a real thrill of anticipation pass through me.

  To borrow the words of my online friends and of my own stories, at the age of fifty-one and against all probability, I had become a Hotwife and my husband a willing Cuckold.

  Both Pete’s fantasies and my erotic stories had just come true. Life had just imitated art.

  How could I just go to work and behave normally?

  What on earth were our lives going to be like from now on?

  6

  “Cuckold Adventures #6”

  As I drove home from work that Wednesday evening – the day our lives changed - all I could think was how extraordinary my husband really was, and of course of the incredible events of the last few weeks.

  I’m not sure how I expected to feel the day after I told Pete that after over twenty years of faithful monogamy, I had been having an affair with a close family friend. I’m not sure I had thought it through any more carefully than I had planned my affair. I had, I might have suspected that he would react differently from other men; after all, he had been urging me to take a lover for many months. But when the moment had come to tell him, it had come unexpectedly and I had just blurted it out and hope for the best.

  But whatever Pete’s reaction was, one thing was certain; there was no way I could undo all that had happened. I was a permanently changed person; a fallen woman; a harlot. I could never be the faithful, normal wife and mother again.

  Fidelity is like virginity; once it’s gone, it’s gone forever.

  The words had gone round and round in my head for the last two guilt-ridden days and sleepless nights. Outside I still looked like the boring, married, middle-aged scientist and mother of three grown- up children that I had previously been. Inside I had become a cauldron of emotions spurred on by fierce feeling of regret and remorse pitted against the incredible discovery of what an exciting, truly satisfying sex life could be like.

  When Pete had first tried to persuade me to take a lover I had thought he wanted us to become swingers. I had suspected he wanted me to see other men so that he could sleep with other women but to my surprise, that hadn’t been the case. By writing and publishing erotic stories online and corresponding with several real life cuckolds who had responded to my work, I had come to

  understand that his motivation was actually quite different.

  I had discovered the mindset of the Willing Cuckold.

  At first I had studied it objectively as I might have investigated a hypothesis at work. Even with Pete’s constant persuasion, I hadn’t planned to take a lover in real life; rather I had expected it all to remain in the realm of fantasy. Exciting fantasy to be sure but definitely not part of real life.

  But then there had been that Friday in November, the train journey home from London, the engrossment in the erotic story I was writing, the chance meeting with Tony on whom I had modelled one of the main characters in that story. There had been the long involving conversation, the mutual attraction, the lift home, the kiss goodbye, the hands straying onto my bottom... followed by the rapid seduction in our own lounge that had led to my only infidelity in over twenty years of marriage.

  Three days later I had gone to Tony’s apartment to tell him it all had to end before it had started. Less than two hours later I had left with a double dose of my lover’s semen inside me.

  The will to end things had gone. The seal of fidelity had been well and truly broken.

  Once I had learned how to ignore the considerable feelings of guilt – at least temporarily - it had been so much easier to keep the affair going than to stop. Tony and I had made love more times since that extraordinary Friday afternoon than I could comfortably count, becoming more compatible with every copulation, taking more and more risks and having more frequent and more intense orgasms than my rather capacious vagina had known than at any time in all my previously monogamous life.

  But when the physical delights were over I found that along with the extraordinary new pleasures of the bed had come equally intense feelings of guilt. These had grown and grown until finally I had been unable to keep the secret from my husband any longer and had blurted out the truth during one of his many post-coital attempts to persuade me to take a lover.

  The pain I had inflicted on my husband when he had heard the news was hard for me to bear so God alone knows how he had felt. Pete had spent the night in the guest ro
om followed by the next two nights away from home, I did not yet know where. Though desperately trying to behave at work as if nothing had happened, I had spent the entire time he was away like a prisoner in the condemned cell, waiting for my marriage, my reputation and my relationships with my children to come to a bitter, recriminatory end.

  When Pete finally returned home, waking me very early on the Wednesday morning I had slept very

  little and expected nothing but the fate I deserved. The conversation that followed was unquestionably the most difficult of my life. At first most of Pete’s words simply reinforced the expectation that I had just destroyed both my marriage and my family but thank God it didn’t end there.

  Eventually and with great emotion, my extraordinary husband told me that despite what I had done, he still loved me wildly and believed he was at least partly responsible for my cheating. Though this reaction had by no means been certain, it was completely in character for the man I loved.

  What had not in any way been predictable was the next revelation; that not only could my husband forgive my infidelity, under some non-negotiable conditions, he was content for it to continue. At that point I would have agreed to anything to keep my marriage intact but, if I had paid enough attention to my online cuckold friends, I could have predicted every one of my husband’s demands.

  The first was no surprise; extreme discretion. The kids and our friends must never know anything at all about our arrangement. Pete might be able to accept being a cuckold in secret but we both recognized this would be almost impossible if anyone else knew.

  This was easy to agree to.

  The next was that I must answer honestly and in intimate detail any questions he asked about my encounters whenever he asked them. Foolishly, I hadn’t been expecting this but the least reference to my online real life cuckold friends would have made it clear that this would be non-negotiable.