Cucklette

Cuckolds tend to be highly educated and rely on their minds a lot The difference between a strict hot wife relationship and a cuckold relationship is in the cuckold relationship the hotwife is always in sexual control, she is the one who makes the decisions about other men and often controls the sexual behavior of the cuckold. In a strictly Hot Wife relationship the husband will be in control of who the Hot Wife meets and fucks. Cuckolds tend to enjoy masturbation and fantasy Cuckolds are not necessarily very physical in their loving making skills and tend to be more mental and emotional Cuckolds are not easily turned on by just the physical aspects of sex itself, they tend to need more mental, visual and aural stimulation then the average male Cuckolds may have less testosterone than say a Bull who can get excited by physical aspects of sex The act of being cuckolded is appealing because of its mental and emotional aspects and it is often long and drawn out over a period of time with the wife dating and such The cuckold loves feeling cucky angst for hours upon hours until the slut wife comes home and allows relief The cuckold my be fixated on the idea of his penis is not enough to pleasure his wife and take pleasure from her getting a larger cock for her lover It is very difficult to define a cuckold relationship, we are all different and ultimately if you call yourself a cuckold and your hotwife has sexual activity with other men and she controls it, then I guess you are one Real cuckold couples are rare Real Bulls are rare

Nothing like being married to a black hotwife.

Technology can be your best friend or your worst enemy. It often depends on what side of the coin you’re peering from. My wife Emily had rushed out the house running late to an appointment to show some office space to a new client. In her haste, she picked up my cell phone thinking it was hers. I grabbed hers and was about to send her a text to let her know and arrange a place where we could swap phones when a text message came through. Ethical dilemma versus natural intrigue; after all, what secrets could she have? “Sorry, had to drop kids off at school, will meet you at the Hyatt. The room is in my name, see you soon. Hope you’re wearing that red lipstick that leaves good rings around Mr. Happy.” A quick reverse phone lookup later, I knew who “he” was; “he” was Jeremy, one of the partners at the Realty firm that employed my wife. His wife and mine were good friends, zumba and shopping buddies, and now it seemed they shared one more thing in common. I wondered if she knew but also realized asking her could set off a war I didn’t a part of. Emily and I had an agreement I would never question who she slept with as long as it wasn’t one of my internal circle of friends or coworkers. Jeremy didn’t fit either category. Grabbing the phone, I planned to leave it at the desk for her to one, let her know I knew, and two, just in case she received some business calls throughout the day, and last I’m not sure exactly, a perverse self punishment for the lifestyle I had chosen perhaps. As I pulled into the deck, I saw Emily’s Range Rover parked at the end of the first row. As I got closer, I noticed a spot across from it and backed in. Just as I was about to get out, a black Jaguar pulled in and parked a couple spots down. Emily got out of her car wearing a navy blue wrap dress and the new $850 red bottom Louboutin pumps I had given her for her birthday just two days prior. I watched as “he” pulled her to him, squeezing her ass and kissed her deeply. She wrapped her arms around him and her left foot elevated just like in the perfume commercials. My stomach flipped but I couldn’t turn away. I watched him look around to see if they had observers then reach up to untie her dress. It opened to reveal she was only wearing lace top thigh high stockings. He buried one, then two fingers in her and I could almost hear her moan although, I’m sure it was just my mind playing tricks on me. My own tool betrayed me, hardening at what was transpiring out in public for anyone to happen upon and that’s exactly what happened. A car turned in, the lights illuminating Emily and “him”, and ending their little parking deck tryst. I heard both vehicle alarms as they locked their respective cars and find the elevator taking them inside the hotel.

I’ve always heard that we are a product of our experiences and the things we read and accept. That might explain how I became a “wittol”. It was never by design, and it certainly wasn’t a lifestyle I sought out. I found myself in a relationship with a woman who was seeing other men unbeknownst to me. This, in itself, wasn’t an unusual or isolated event that occurs in daily life; but it was my response to it that made my situation abnormal by today’s standards and at odds with most of my friends and family’s expectations. When I found out she was cheating (another term to discuss later), I didn’t end the relationship as I and most would have expected, but after a conversation in which I disclosed I knew of her “unfaithfulness”, she told me she was glad I knew and that now we could decide how to deal with the future. I had known about four days, but didn’t she was out of town when I found out and the days leading up to her return and our discussion were gut wrenching and sleepless. Being a black man, raised to be “hard” and to withhold my emotions to not show any weakness, I just knew I’d have the conversation, cuss her and her lineage out, gather what items I kept at her condo, and leave to never glance upon her presence again ever in life. The conversation couldn’t have gone any different. “Listen DeVon, you knew you weren’t the first man I had sex with, and you won’t be the last. The question you have to ask yourself is do you want to screw up what we’ve had for the past 18 months, or do you accept that you’ll not be the only person sharing my body. I love you; the others are friends that I enjoy physically.” It was probably a statement that should have made me feel better but actually it made me feel worse. She loved me but somehow felt a need, desire, or compulsion to have others. Was it because I couldn’t satisfy her? Unlike some others in similar cuckold relationships, I didn’t have a small penis. I wasn’t packing 12 inches, but my seven inches was respectable. I hadn’t had any complaints from any of my previous girlfriends and had experienced Emily’s cries of fulfillment on numerous occasions. I had even worn nail marks on my back as evidence I was rocking her world sexually. “DeVon, you knew about my past before we met. You knew I had a reputation, yet you still pursued me. So, this can’t be that much of a surprise to you.” That much had been true. I had heard of Emily’s sexual exploits from many of my undergrad classmates, both male and female, but for some reason assumed that after we got together she had forsaken all others. Well, I must have forgotten the old adage about assumptions. “How did you find out anyway?” she asked. “You left your outlook open. I was going to send you a sexy email for you to help you with your rabbit. I remember how horny you get in hotel rooms. When I hit the keyboard, the emails between you and Jerome, Ian, Frank, and all the others were there staring me in the face. I couldn’t resist.” “So……what do we do?”…………………………

It was so awkward, my girlfriend, the women servicing us and the two women behind all knew.

However, Cucking does carry a risk for the Cuck, namely that his partner will get attached to the Bull and eventually completely replace him with the Bull. That’s a major theme of Cucking porn. That risk is often intensely erotic for the Cuck—the ultimate Cucking in terms of humiliation is complete displacement of the Cuck in the marriage. Thus in order for Cucking to work as a long-term dynamic, the core of the relationship must be very strong. The Cuck must be able to trust his partner to not actually abandon him in favor of another more sexually-desirable man.

That’s my girlfriend’s ass that other men were able to enjoy behind my back. They fucked my girlfriend and I’m still with her.