I’m a cuckold. A member of that select group of men who love watching, or hearing about, their wife (girlfriend) making love to another man, or men depending on the circumstances. Thankfully, I found a hot girlfriend, who later became my wife.
The experience I’m about to relate took place six months after Cindi and I met. During that time, we discussed our previous relationships. What went right, what went wrong, and how to ensure we didn’t make the same mistakes again.
I told Cindi about how my ex-wife and I tried swinging and found it wasn’t for us. How my ex tried being a hotwife but couldn’t get into it and how the latter was instrumental in us getting divorced.
Cindi told me about the two years she was into swinging with her ex-boyfriend, and the three years she’d been a hot girlfriend for a guy who enjoyed the sexual fetish.
When Cindi told me about her experiences, my first question was, “Did you enjoy them?”
After what seemed like forever, she cautiously said, “Yes.”
“Why the hesitation?”
“Because I didn’t know how you’d react.”
I queried her about what she liked and didn’t like about her experiences. She told me, and from that day we were off and running. Perhaps ‘looking’ would be a better term because that’s why we were in an Adult Book Store outside Kenosha, Wisconsin. Like most Adult Bookstores it was divided into sections—porn videos, swinger’s magazines, toys, books, lingerie, B & D, gay, etc. Whatever a person wanted they could find it there. Cindi and I walked in together but went our separate ways once inside. She drifted over to the porn video section, while I looked over the swinger’s magazines. I was checking the ads in one of the papers when a tall, good-looking black man approached me.
“Hi, my name’s Paul. Are you looking for anything special?”
He’d caught me off guard, so I said, “Not really. Just looking,” and put the paper down.
“You here by yourself?”
“No, that’s my girlfriend over there,” I said pointing to Cindi.
“Foxy,” Paul said. “Are you two looking for some action?"
I was turned on by the thought, but I didn’t know about Cindi. We’d agreed not to commit to or do anything without each other's approval. “Let me ask my girlfriend.”
I walked over to where Cindi was reading the back of a video box, pointed to Paul, and told her what he'd said. We talked for a couple of minutes then Cindi said, “Sure, it could be trippy.”
I introduced them and waited while they talked. After a couple of minutes, Cindi said, “My boyfriend said you wanted to know if we were looking for some action. What did you have in mind?”
Paul pointed to a sign over a curtain covered doorway. The sign read ‘Video Booths-Get tokens at Check-Out Counter’. “Want to see what’s back there?”
Cindi said, “Sure."
I didn’t know about Cindi, but I was getting butterflies waiting for Paul to get back with the tokens.
“Got them,” Paul said flipping a token in the air. We walked through the curtains into a dim, narrow hallway lined with video booths. Each had a door and a picture of the movie playing.
Paul said, “The ones with the red lights are taken.” We continued down the hall until we found a booth with the light off.
Paul opened the door and called out, “Anyone here?” There was no answer, so we walked in. A 60-watt bulb affixed to the ceiling provided enough light to see the room wasn’t big, perhaps 6 x 6. A video screen was set into the far wall. There was a wooden chair, a box of tissues, and an overflowing wastebasket. Paul went over to the screen, dropped the required number of tokens into a coin box, and said, “That should be enough to assure we won’t be bothered for at least an hour.”
“It’s sure not the Waldorf,” Cindi said as she looked around the cramped confines. “But then, I don’t expect to spend the night here.”
I stood off to the side. This was Cindi’s and Paul’s show.
Cindi walked to the chair (it’s back was facing the video screen) and sat down. She motioned to Paul to stand facing her. When Paul was in position Cindi reached up, unbuckled the belt of his tight black jeans, and slid down the zipper. Paul’s pants fall to his ankles, and like me, he didn’t wear underwear. Cindi’s eyes grew wide when she saw what awaited her. Paul’s cock looked 9” long and was almost as thick as a coke can. A mischievous smile played across Cindi’s lips as she wrapped her hands around the shaft and lowered her head.