Cuckolding Books Library

When you walked in on your wife having sex with another man in your marital bed, she asked him to leave as she said, “I think it’s time my husband and I had a talk.” She didn’t apologize; she said to you, “I suppose you didn’t expect me to be faithful to you with at most a twice-a-month quickie of about thirty seconds. You should call him, apologize, and invite him over for dinner next Friday—I'm going to ask him in front of you to stay over.”

Not all wives see cuckolding the same way. After thinking about it for some time, your wife took a firm decision: consenting passively isn't enough—it doesn’t clearly show that his first priority is always my sexual fulfillment. He must prove his total support actively—undressing me for my lover, buying me lingerie, asking my lover to fuck me, among other things.

Honey, I'm so sorry; sex with him is absolutely mind‑blowing—I love you, but you could never compare. If I stopped having sex with him, I would be missing him desperately all the time.

You knew from the very beginning that nothing would ever be the same again after the first time Mike slept with your wife. Mike was just an old acquaintance, but your wife acted around the two of you as if you were very close friends, trying to spend a lot of time with both of you at the same time. Nevertheless, she would later go to bed with Mike alone. That photo was a highly special one; Mike took it right in front of you. Afterward, your wife took both Mike and you by the hand, and the three of you started walking together—a few minutes later, she told you, “I love you both; you’ve given me a child, and you’re my husband, and you’ll always be by my side to raise it.” Everything had changed forever—you’d consented to it and accepted it, and the child in your wife’s womb was Mike’s.

It surely has to be a life-changing moment to see a big and hard cock that is not yours—nor yours can compare—slide into your wife’s pussy as if it belonged to him. And then you see the expression of overwhelming pleasure on your wife’s face and hear her moans—everything shows that she is not only enjoying it but loving and needing it too. You now know that you have never been able to properly satisfy her in bed—and you never will. Knowing that you are blatantly inadequate is emotionally devastating—nothing will ever be as it used to be. You must make a choice—you can either tell your wife to have sex with him whenever she wants or allow her frustration to build up until she finally leaves you.

As she watched the city grow dark through the window of the hotel room where she had just slept with her lover, your wife said to him, “I can’t keep doing this—having sex with you behind my husband’s back in a hotel, in secret. I have to tell him the truth. He’ll understand, and we can sleep together at my house. If any man is meant to be a consenting cuckold, it’s my husband.”

You say that Mike has told you several times that you should ask me if I’d let you watch while we have sex—that deep inside you want it and will finally ask me. Honey, I love you madly, and I’d let you do it, but what Mike wants is for you to see that you could never do it to me the way he does. He wants you to feel inferior to him so that you’ll be totally submissive to him—he fucks me better than you do, but I won’t let him hurt you or make you feel so inadequate.

Why did your wife blow you that kiss and give you that look? It wasn't to tell you she wanted to be in your arms and in bed with you—she wanted to be with the man she was dancing with, and she was thanking you in advance for letting her do it.

Your wife said to you, “Honey, Noah kept the bullies away from you in high school. Don't you think you should invite him to stay with us until he finishes the work he’s come to our town to do? I’d love to help you repay the debt you owe him.” You know how attractive he was to women, but you love your gorgeous wife so much that you always give her whatever she asks for—no matter what it is.

Your wife told you what your best friend’s wife had confided to her about what they’d done: “They met that Black guy, and he fucked Marie in their marital bed, right in front of Jim. Since then, they’ve been seeing him regularly, and not just Marie, but your friend Jim too, is totally hooked on it.” She told you that Marie wanted to introduce him to you and added, “We’d wear masks; he wouldn’t recognize us.” It didn’t matter that you and your wife were wearing masks or that he wouldn't recognize you—that didn’t make his nine-inch cock any smaller or him any less skilled in bed. As Marie had predicted, you weren’t able to look your wife in the eye—you were too diminished and felt too sexually useless to do so. Your wife has become exclusive to Black men, and you cannot help but admire, thank, and be subservient to her lovers.

Of course he likes my boobs, honey. On several occasions, he’s pushed them together and put his cock between them—then moved it back and forth as if it were inside my vagina. His cock is so big that the tip can reach my mouth—think about what I have told you the next time I give you permission to masturbate.

Smiles, glances, and signals of complicity. Women notice right away when a man isn’t able to satisfy his wife, when she looks elsewhere for what she doesn’t have at home, and when he’s already licked a pussy that had just been fucked by someone else. They spot it at once! You saw how they looked at you, too—and you felt ridiculous, ashamed, and exposed in front of them.

At least one thing is certain: you won't be able to masturbate while thinking about the bodies of your wife and her girlfriends sunbathing naked on the sandy beach. The first thing one of her friends did, as soon as she met your wife at the beach house you’d rented, was hand her a package and say, “Erika, this is what you asked me to bring you.” It was a chastity cage, and your wife put it on right there in front of her friends. And to make matters worse, one of them said, “Now that the lil' Budy is caged up, you’ll have to find yourself something much bigger.”

When you placed your hand on your wife’s thigh, she whispered, “Thank you, honey,” as if welcoming it. You both knew that just a few inches from your hand was her pussy, which had been fucked by her boss without a condom less than an hour earlier. Your hand there meant that you accepted it—and that you still loved her—and it made her very happy.

This picture was sent to me by @theitaliancuckshrimp

Did your best friend want to show you that he had absolute control over your wife? He asked her—in front of you—to touch herself. The way she did it was intensely erotic—first she touched herself over her dress, then over her panties, and then after lowering her panties to mid-thigh. You would have loved to have been the one who, as soon as the tips of her fingers started caressing her pubic hair, took her to your marital bed and filled her womb with fertile seed—but it was your best friend, not you, who did it.

If you’d ever dared to caress your wife’s thighs while driving, she would have told you to keep your eyes on the road. However, when her boss caresses her while driving, she doesn’t tell him to keep his eyes on the road—instead, she spreads her thighs a little so he can reach her pussy with his hand. She does it that way because her boss gives her many more orgasms than you ever could.