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Acts of Infidelity - John and Kate

Young wife and mother is seduced by her husband's attractive Boss

I don’t normally do requests though I am often asked to do so.

As a female author, I also receive a lot of messages which appear to be nothing but fantasies but when ‘John’ first wrote and began telling me about a brief but important period in his marriage, from the very beginning there was a real ring of truth about his story.

John wrote in a pleasing, slightly old-fashioned style which I have tried to retain in this story about a period of four years in which, with his complete agreement, his wife cuckolded him on a regular basis.

John had never told anyone about this before and at first seemed unsure how to tell his tale but over a few months, more and more details were forthcoming until eventually, with a little creative licence from me, an interesting, arousing and highly believable story emerged.

The names have been changed but otherwise the story is as it was told to me.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed helping put it together.


My name is John. I live happily with my wife Catherine in Australia. I love her passionately. Both of us are in our seventies now and have three grown-up children. We are, outwardly at least, a normal, everyday couple.

But it wasn’t always like this. When we were much younger, for four years I shared my wife with another man.

It was a period in our lives that I remember vividly and fondly. This is the first time I have told our story to anyone. It has been both painful and arousing to confess all that happened and to re-live some of the more exceptional aspects of our relationship but I am so pleased I have done it.

Telling everything has brought back memories of what turned out to be one of the most exciting times of our lives. Reading the story as written below it is hard to believe it all really happened.

But I assure you it did.


My story begins in early 1960 when at the tender age of twenty-one, I moved to Melbourne for my job. Inexperienced and unsure of the world of girls, I was just under six feet tall, had black hair, dark brown eyes, a dark complexion and at that time a slim physique.

I worked as part of a team in the Insurance business alongside a colleague of a similar age called Jeff. He and I became friends as well as colleagues, started knocking around together outside of work and in time I got to meet his nineteen year old sister, Catherine who worked in a nearby Bank.

I was immediately taken by her. Cuddly rather than slim but in no way plump, Kate was taller than the average girl, had collar length wavy brown hair and a peaches and cream complexion which no doubt came from her English heritage.

Her breasts, which were often covered by nothing more than a thin pullover, were like two lovely handfuls standing proud on her chest, their hidden nipples promising to become very hard and prominent when she was sexually excited.

It was a promise that was to be fulfilled in abundance, but more of that later.

With a lovely smile, blue-green eyes and a bubbly personality, to me she was absolutely stunning but when we first met she seemed more interested in spending time with her girlfriends. To my delight she did not seem to have a boyfriend but at the time didn’t seem to be much interested in boys either.

I on the other hand was very much interested in her and would quietly ask her brother more and more about her.

Whenever I tried to learn more, Jeff would laugh and ask why I wanted to know? Was I interested in her? The answer to that was obvious so it was to my considerable relief he told me that not only did she not have a boyfriend; he didn't think that she had ever had one.

I was a shy country boy and was not experienced with women. In truth I had had only had one girlfriend until then and that hadn't involved anything more than having a feel of her breasts through her clothing. My hopes were not high but to my surprise and delight, I discovered Kate was more outgoing than me and when I finally got the courage to ask her out she agreed.

I was very excited and extremely nervous but I needn’t have worried; after our first date at the movies it was she who initiated the first kiss as I left her at the front door.

I was smitten at that first kiss and have remained smitten ever since.

We continued to date. During those dates, Kate was always a little more forward than I was and things progressed quite quickly. She actually encouraged me to caress and kiss her breasts and after a while initiated me into the world of cunnilingus, something very daring that was hardly even joked about in those days.

Even now I can remember the powerful aroma that emanates from Kate’s vulva when she is aroused.

Despite this, by modern standards she and I were still relatively inexperienced in sexual matters when we got married in 1964.

Times and attitudes were different everywhere back then and even more traditional in Australia where we lived. Unlike now, the pill was not widely available and would have been socially unacceptable even if it had been.

Although the rules of the game change, some things remain the same; back then there were ‘nice girls’ and there were the ‘other girls’. Kate’s three cousins had been ‘other girls’; all forced to get married at an early age because of pregnancies.

Kate most certainly did not wish to be in that position or even worse, a single mother with all the shame that would have accompanied it at that time. As a result, before marriage the physical side of our love life had consisted entirely of oral sex and mutual masturbation. This was very enjoyable but we were always aware that something bigger and better awaited us one day.

As a consequence and however reluctantly, right up to our marriage, we were both still virgins.

When we finally arrived at our hotel room on our wedding night, Kate asked for a few minutes to get herself ready, even though we had been with each other without clothes many times. She wanted the first night where we could make love to be just perfect.

When she came out of the bathroom she was wearing a long white see-through night gown trimmed with pink ribbon. It was almost enough to make me cum on the spot. As you can imagine, the night gown did not stay on her for long and it did not take us much longer to consummate our marriage.

I think we made love about four times that night. We were like rabbits. Kate always said that whenever the town hall clock struck we were at it again. By the time we arrived home from our honeymoon we had done our best to make up for all the lost time in our courtship.

Now a married woman, Kate was able to obtain the pill more easily and that certainly helped us relax and enjoy ourselves in bed to the full.

Although she was and remains the love of my life, I have to be honest and say that Kate has never had the figure of a super model. Instead she possessed a curvy, womanly figure with full breasts and, most noticeably, a truly beautiful face and enchanting eyes. Even now at the age of seventy-six and both a dress and bra size larger, she is still attractive and sexy.

I tell her this every day.

As my fingers grew to learn during our courtship, she also has a truly beautiful vagina, still quite tight despite having had three children and with soft inner lips that protrude a long way beyond her outer labia. These get very swollen when she is sexually excited.

As far as I know, only one other man in the world knows this.

On our wedding night when the head of my erect cock finally got to work its way between those fleshy lips and enter the dark private passage beyond, my excitement was so great that it was all I could do not to climax immediately.

And so our life together began, happily and conventionally and remained so for a number of years. We quickly grew to know and enjoy each other’s bodies and eventually to experiment in bed. Our imaginations were often titillated by the rather tame pornographic magazines that were all that was available at the time and which I used to buy surreptitiously when out of town for meetings.

It made us feel very daring and excited to be doing such naughty things! In private, we even started to use the same words the magazine used: fuck, cunt, cock, ball and cum to name but a few.

Unusual now among couples; even more daring for the 1960s!

It’s hard to pinpoint when things first began to change and our journey into the world of cuckoldry began. Perhaps it grew over time from some chemistry between us; perhaps we had always had it buried within our characters.

History suggests something of the kind had always been inside me waiting for an opportunity to come out but I can never be sure. What do know is that I am not a jealous person; something within me knew that if it ever happened and I knew about it everything would be okay.

I remember one particular evening when we had been married about three years. We were in bed together reading letters from readers of an English magazine called "Fiesta" as we had often done before. The pictures in the magazine were almost exclusively of naked young women so did little for Kate’s arousal but the letters from both men and women about their particular sexual proclivities were much more effective.

I had always doubted whether the letters were true or had been made up by an anxious editor struggling with a deadline but reading the intimate secrets of other peoples’ lives aroused us both.

I often wondered what it would be like to have someone else fucking Kate just like the wives in the stories had been fucked. The thought would get me very horny but, not knowing what her reaction would be, I never told her this until the opportunity actually arose – but more about that later too.

The effect on my wife of these real life stories was almost always very powerful. When we were reading together, Kate would hold my cock and gauge my reactions to the various letters by the way they affected its hardness. It wasn’t very scientific but it was fun.

On one occasion we were reading a letter about a cuckold doing clean-up duty after his wife had been fucked by her boyfriend. Kate squeezed my shaft appreciatively.

“Well that certainly got the attention of your cock,” she laughed, still holding it firmly in her fist. “What do you think about that?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. She was right though; to my surprise I had found the story highly arousing. It was all I could do not to cum all over Kate’s gripping fingers.

“You know how much I love licking and sucking your cunt,” I replied, trying not to appear perverted and to keep her the centre of attention. “Trying it when it’s full of cum sounds even better!”

“Well we’ll see if we can do something about it,” she grinned, pulling me into position between her opening thighs.

I mounted her, sliding my very hard cock between those soft, swollen, protruding lips and sinking deep into her soft warm body. I was so turned on by what we had read that I came within a couple of dozen stokes, filling her cunt with rather more cum than I was used to producing.

Afterwards Kate directed my head downwards to her slit where my semen was oozing from her. I did my duty, feeling my mouth filling with my own semen mixed with her juices and taking my time over those fleshy lips and the hard nub above them but having just cum myself, the post-climax let-down was upon me and my heart wasn’t in it.

Over the coming months we tried it several times more but every time I filled her cunt with my cum, the post-climax let-down prevented me from enjoying the resulting clean-up as intensely as the story had aroused me.

On another occasion our reading session was followed by some highly intense sex which left us both dreamy and relaxed. Before we knew it, we were having very deep and meaningful pillow-talk and were confessing to each other the few secrets that remained of our previous sexual experiences.

To my astonishment, Kate told me that when she was eighteen she had had a brief a lesbian relationship with a woman seven years older. To my frustration and no matter how hard I tried to persuade her, she wouldn't tell me anything about what they had done together other than to say that they had cuddled while nude.

My imagination kept me awake for several nights afterwards, wondering amongst other things whether this was where Kate had acquired her taste for cunnilingus.

As it matched my own taste in that direction, I was profoundly grateful to wherever her desires had started.

In return, I confessed that I had masturbated in the company of other teenage boys when I was younger. I was so relaxed and open I actually admitted that during these infrequent sessions I had discovered that far from having the biggest cock in the group, my erect penis was actually significantly smaller than all the others.

I asked Kate if my small erection was a problem for her. She replied that having only ever had my cock inside her she didn’t really have anything to compare it with and anyway, it made her feel good and the love we had between us was more important for her satisfaction than the size of my cock.

There was something about the tone of her voice that made me doubt the truth of her words. Even now I can’t be sure what it was but I remember feeling very insecure and began to feel ashamed of what I increasingly believed was an inadequate endowment.

Perhaps my first step on the road to being a cuckold began then. What is certainly true is that I began to lose confidence in bed and became more and more aware of the shortcomings in my performance.

Every time we fucked the same questions buzzed round my mind; had it been good for Kate? Had she reached orgasm? Was I disappointing her? Surely she couldn’t be satisfied by so small a cock?

This belief persisted for some time, growing stronger and stronger until eventually my fear of failing to satisfy her sexually made me tell her that, rather than force her to have a inadequate sex all her life, I wouldn't stop her from sleeping with someone else if she so desired, providing that she told me it was happening.

Kate was surprised rather than shocked, but said that that was not likely to happen.


Strangely and despite believing I was handicapped by my small penis, our sex life was very satisfying over the next few years, at least for me. To my delight, my erection proved to be inadequate only in size and Kate became pregnant several times according to our life plan.

However disappointingly they were being delivered by my cock, there was nothing inadequate about the effectiveness of my sperm.

Kate’s first pregnancy was a revelation; with a baby growing in her belly, our already active sex life soared to new heights I had never dreamed existed. Making love tenderly went out of the window; Kate simply could not get enough fucking. And that was what it was; crude, hard fucking. As her belly swelled she became absolutely insatiable; I couldn't keep up with her more than daily demands and to be honest was glad when the baby was finally born and our sex life could return to something more loving and less exhausting.

For several years our life together progressed. A second child was born, then a third, each accompanied by nine months of extreme sexual activity though the presence of our younger children made it harder for Kate to let herself go in the bedroom and often left her feeling somewhat frustrated.

This frustration only added to my firm conviction that my erect penis was inadequate and made me more determined to ensure my lovely wife had the sex life she deserved – whether it was with me or not.


We had been married close to ten years and outwardly at least had become a normal family when things began to change.

In my job I was moved into the Head Office Accounting Section of the company and there I was introduced to my new Boss. Alan was a few years older than me, like me was just under six feet tall but was slimmer and more athletically built. Though balding, he remained quite a good looking chap and certainly got on well with the girls in the office who thought that he was a bit of a charmer.

I don't know whether he was fucking any of them but I wouldn't have been surprised if he was.

When Kate met him she thought that he was handsome and a bit of a charmer too. I didn't think much about it at the time and she initially didn't say that she was attracted to him sexually.

That came a year or so later.

It all started quite casually when Kate and I attended a work dinner dance. Alan began to flirt with my wife who was placed next to him at the round table on which his team were all sitting. Alan was married but had always had an eye for the ladies and despite – or perhaps because of her fuller figure Kate had attracted his attention for a while.

Neither of us took him seriously at first though it was clear to me that Kate was really enjoying the attention she was receiving from a man who was undeniably attractive as well as being in a position of power.

In a strange way I was also enjoying seeing her behaving in such a light hearted and sexy way even though her attention was not directed at me.

As the department Boss, Alan had to make sure he spent time with everyone in his team and did so but I noticed he kept returning to talk to my wife throughout the evening. When he did, they laughed and joked together until eventually he asked her to dance.

Kate looked at me for a second as if asking for my approval but then simply grinned and took Alan’s hand. I watched from the table, glass in hand as they moved together in time to the music. When the slow dances began I saw Kate cast an eye back towards me where I sat but then slipped her arms around Alan as his hands found her waist and rounded buttocks.

I watched, feeling a strange combination of pride, fear, anger and jealousy all at the same time.

It was a feeling I was to get to know very well indeed.

In bed that night Kate was hot, passionate and demanding. My emotions had been so powerfully aroused by what I had seen that I matched her arousal kiss for kiss and thrust for thrust, both of us reaching a wonderful nearly-simultaneous climax before collapsing onto the bed.

Afterwards she confessed that during the slow dances she had clearly felt Alan’s erection pressing against her stomach. She also told me that he had been feeling her leg under the dinner table during the meal.

I asked her how that had made her feel. Kate replied that it had made her feel horny and hot.

It generated strong feelings in me too; feelings I didn’t really understand at the time.


A few days later when I came home from work, Kate told me that Alan had telephoned. I asked why he had called the house; after all he and I had been in the same office all day. After a moment of awkward silence, Kate replied that he had asked if she would like to go out for dinner with him.

I was surprised; surely he could have simply asked me during the day if we were free but then Kate explained that he hadn’t asked us – just her.

She was obviously awkward and embarrassed. I asked her what she wanted to do; he was my Boss and had to be kept happy but after all, she was my wife. To my surprise again, Kate told me that she had enjoyed talking to Alan at the dance and, if I was content, she would like to have dinner with him too.

My heart raced; something had just changed in our relationship. Never in our ten years of marriage had Kate expressed a real interest in another man. The emotions running through me were strange and unfamiliar and I struggled to cope with them.

On the one hand, Kate was my wife, the mother of our kids and most certainly should not be having dinner alone with another man.

On the other hand, she was a grown woman with her own feelings and needs. I loved and respected her too much to dig in my heels and try to prevent her doing something she really wanted to do. So with my heart thumping in my chest I told her that if that was what she wanted to do I would not deny her that opportunity.

This remains one of the hardest decisions of my life. However I might have lied to myself at the time, I made it in the full knowledge that my previously faithful wife of fifteen years might end up having sex with another man.

Even now, all these years later I can’t quite believe I said those words but I am so glad I did.


Three days later the evening of the date arrived.

Though it is difficult to remember precisely how I felt all those years ago, I do remember that my mind was in turmoil. There were so many possible outcomes – many of them undesirable - it still amazes me that I didn’t even try to stop the date happening.

Though I knew we both loved and trusted each other, I was nervous as to what might happen to our relationship afterwards.

How would I feel once her fidelity was gone and she had actually tasted forbidden fruit?

And how would she feel about me, particularly if having felt another man’s erect cock inside her she was no longer interested in what I truly believed was my own inadequate endowment?

And of course how might my work relationship change? Alan was my Boss after all.

But above and despite all these misgivings I was unbelievably excited at the prospect of my sweet wife actually experiencing another man’s cock and of me finding out what it really was like to clean his semen from her body afterwards.

Of course as the day approached, even this desire became insufficient; I found myself desperate to watch her being actually fucked but no matter how hard I tried to persuade her, Kate wouldn’t even contemplate this.

On date night itself, I came home early from work to help with the kids. They were then between three and seven years old and could be quite a handful getting fed and into their beds.

I knew Kate couldn’t possibly do all this and concentrate on getting ready to go out so I left her to prepare herself on her own. I didn't offer to help her get ready; I wanted to see how she would present herself to her first ever lover given the freedom to choose.

From all I knew about her, I was sure that she would be wearing really sexy underwear and looked forward to seeing it soiled later that night.

The kids occupied me fully for an hour but when they were finally settled I came downstairs to find Kate already dressed and ready to go. She looked simply stunning; the best I had seen her in a long time in a close fitting dress that was one of my favourites. It was discreet, showing only a hint of cleavage but presented her full breasts to perfection. The hem line came modestly just above her knees but still showed enough smooth, shapely leg to entice any red-blooded man.

We kissed in the hallway. My heart ached. Deep down I knew it was a form of goodbye. Whatever happened during her date, the woman who returned home later that night would not be the same woman who had left.

As we kissed, I couldn’t resist trying to feel up her dress to see what underwear she had chosen.

“Not now,” she scolded. “I don’t want to get messed up.”

“Please Kate...” I began.

“You can feel me all you want when I come home,” she said quietly. “I promise.”

“When’s he due?”

She looked at her small wristwatch.

“Any time now.”

“Will he come to the house?” I asked, suddenly anxious about meeting the man I fully expected to become my wife’s lover.

“He said he’d pick me up at the gate. It wouldn’t be so embarrassing for any of us.”

As if on cue, the loud coarse sound of a car horn came from the end of the drive. My tummy filled with butterflies; I felt sick but tried as hard as I could not to let it show.

“That’s probably him,” I mumbled.

“Yes,” Kate replied flatly.

For a moment I wondered whether she was expecting me to say something more; to beg her not to go; to remain faithful to me. But if she did, she was to be disappointed. Instead I opened the door, my arms heavy with emotion.

“Have a good time,” I said.

“Thanks,” she smiled, avoiding any farewell kiss I might want to give her. “I won’t be too late.”

“Take as long as you need,” I said softly. “Goodbye Catherine.”

And with that, she left the house. I watched her walk down the path a short way then closed the front door firmly on the night air and for the last time on my faithful wife.

What kind of woman would return later I could only imagine.


That was the problem: imagination!

No sooner had I heard the car door slam and the engine pull away than I began to ask what on earth I had agreed to. Was I out of my mind? Not a minute passed without my trying to picture what they were doing, where they were eating, what they were saying.

As the evening rolled on and time passed, I realised they couldn’t possibly still be at the restaurant. Where had they gone? Were they walking? Holding hands? Talking?

Had they gone to his place? No, his wife would be there. Had they gone to a hotel? Was it a cheap hotel or a luxury one? Were they in a bedroom by now, undressing each other? Were they actually fucking? Was Alan’s cock already deep in my wife’s cunt?

And of course was Kate really enjoying herself? Did she like his cock? Was it really much bigger than mine? Was he making her cum? Was he filling her with semen?

And what would she feel like when she got home? Would she feel guilty? Look guilty?

Not even the kids misbehaved to distract me from my thoughts. The TV droned in the corner of the room but I couldn’t concentrate. All I could do was watch the interminably slow clock and wait, in agony.


It was eleven in the evening when I finally heard it.

I was awake pretending to watch TV in the lounge when a large familiar car pulled onto the driveway. The engine stopped and its lights went out but there was no slam of doors. I peered out through a gap in the curtains. It was Alan’s car but I couldn’t see anything through the darkened windows.

Frustrated, I returned to the TV and tried hard to concentrate on the screen but it was no use. All I could think of was what might be going on behind the darkened windscreen in the driveway.

It was quite a long time before I heard a key in the lock and my wife finally entered the house.

The relief when she walked through the door was almost overwhelming. I could see straight away that she looked a little dishevelled and flushed. I had half expected her to run to the bathroom but to my delight she came straight into the lounge to see me.

“How did it go?” I asked automatically, not sure how I would respond whatever she told me.

“It was nice,” she replied. “He’s really good company.”

“You got on well with him?”

“Very well,” she replied, her voice hesitant and her eyes lowered.

“Was the meal good?”


“And the wine?”

“Really good.”

“And the sex?”


A surge of anger and jealousy rushed through me.

“Did you fuck?” I asked suddenly and cruelly.


Her reply was immediate and forceful. I believed her but there was something in her voice that told me there was more to learn.

“Come on Kate. You’ve got guilt written all over your face,” I lied.

My wife was clearly shaken both by my outburst and whatever had taken place over the past couple of hours. She took a few moments to compose herself then sat on the arm of the sofa before answering. As she sat the hem of her dress rose up her soft, smooth thigh and I couldn’t help wondering whether Alan’s hands had been in the same place only minutes ago.

“He… he wanted to fuck,” she confessed. “But I wouldn’t do it.”

“You didn’t fancy him?” I pressed.

“It’s not that. He… he wanted to do it in the car,” she said softly.

“And you wouldn’t do it there?”

She shook her head, adding “I’m not a teenager.”

“But you would have done it if there’d been a bed?”

She didn’t reply. She didn’t need to; her body language told me all I needed to know.

“How did he take the disappointment?” I asked after a pause.

“I… I helped him out,” she said, her eyes still not able to meet mine but with a voice gathering confidence.

I stared open mouthed at the woman I had married fifteen years ago. Something had definitely happened; her bearing had changed, her confidence had changed.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I used my hands.”


“In the car.”

“Where were you parked?”

“In our driveway.”

“Kate!” I exclaimed in shock. “Just now?”

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the floor.

“Did you make him cum?” I asked after a long pause.

She nodded again.

“Christ Kate! You turn me on!”

I moved towards her. She rose and took me by the hand then led me straight to bed, as anxious for sex as I was.

As we kissed eagerly and passionately I could taste something different in her mouth. It was my first taste of something I was to become very familiar with over the next four years; Alan’s semen.

Once I recognised it for what it was, I knew that she had lied; that she had actually given the man a blow job in the driveway only a dozen yards from where I had been sitting.

“Did you swallow?” I asked, breaking our embrace, accusing her of using a lot more than just her hands.

Kate looked at me as if to argue then changed her mind.

“No. I spat it into a handkerchief.”

I had been right! My heart raced.

“Where is it now?”

“In my handbag.”

“Can I see it?”


“Please Kate.”

She reluctantly got out of bed and returned with a scrunched piece of damp cloth which she raised to my nose. The smell of semen was overpowering. She really had sucked my Boss to orgasm in his car in our driveway.

“There! Happy now?” she asked.

I held it to my face and inhaled; it was sticky and cool and smelled strongly of a man’s cum. By rights that precious fluid should have been deep within my wife’s soft, sweet body, its tiny wriggling contents swimming frantically upwards into her womb.

“Did he enjoy cumming in your mouth?” I asked.

“He said he did.”

“Did you enjoy having him spurt into your throat?” I hissed.

“Yes!” Kate growled back. “I loved it!”

“But you’d rather he came in your cunt?”

“I’d rather have had his thick cock in my cunt than in my throat!” she snarled.

“Jesus Kate!”

The fucking that followed was some of the most passionate of my life.


Surprisingly, the following morning began as if nothing had happened, both of us going about our normal business. But it couldn’t last; eventually I couldn’t keep silent and eventually had to ask her where she wanted to go with her new relationship.

“That depends on you,” she replied quietly.

“Do you want to see him again?” I asked, knowing what the answer would be.

“Yes I do,” my wife’s reply was straight and to the point.

“Do you want to go all the way with him next time?”

“If it feels right at the time,” she told me equally calmly. “And if you are okay about it too.”

I thought for a moment.

“How often would you want to meet him?”

Kate had clearly thought this out in detail because without hesitation she replied that as I was away at meetings a couple of times a month perhaps he could call at our house and see her then - after our three children were in bed of course.

I must confess that I was very turned on by her wanting this and agreed. I have always loved my wife passionately and wanted to keep her. To do this I felt sure I had to give her the sex life she deserved, even if it wasn’t my cock that was providing it. I truly believed that allowing her the freedom to be herself sexually with my full knowledge and acceptance would keep her happy despite what I also truly believed to be my tiny, inadequate cock.

It would have been simply unbearable if she had gone behind my back and cheated.

“Did you agree your next date last night?”

Kate shook her head.

“I wanted to see how you reacted.”

“And are you pleased with my reaction?”

She smiled.

“It will do.”

“So will you go ahead and make a date?”

She nodded slowly.

“I think I will.”


It was two days later when Kate told me that her next date had been arranged.

I was surprised but did not complain when she told me that they wanted to meet at our house. His wife would be in their house and a hotel would pose too great a risk of being discovered. With some misgivings and a terrible nausea in my belly, I told her it was okay with me.

In truth it made sense; our children were quite young, they went to bed at about seven thirty and were good sleepers. It was several years since my wife and I had been disturbed once they had been tucked in bed. Kate told me that Alan would not come around until about quarter to nine to give them plenty of time to fall asleep. That sounded sensible to me too; the kids would be quite settled and it would give my wife plenty of time to ready herself for her lover.

The conversation was one of the strangest of my life. More than once I had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn’t a dream; that I really was discussing the best way in which my wife could be fucked by my Boss in our marital bed.

There was no question that that was what was going to happen. Since that first dinner date Kate had made it very clear that she wanted to go all the way with Alan and to my astonishment and shame, I must confess that I was very excited about it.

As the date grew closer and our plans became firmer, I realised that this was something I had wanted for a long time. I really did want my sweet, pretty wife to be fucked by a man with a much bigger cock than mine.

And that is what I believed Alan had.

Sometimes I felt ashamed of myself. Other times I felt elated that it was really going to happen but at no time did I even think of trying to stop it. I have no explanation of why my need was so important. Perhaps I was born with it; perhaps my feeling of inadequacy gradually became overwhelming but the result was the same.

The evening before when we were in bed, I did express the fear that Kate might not love me as much afterwards. She told me she understood that fear but that this date was to be for sex alone, not love. She told me clearly that I was her only true love and that she loved me even more for giving her the opportunity to experience just plain sex without commitment.


Less than twenty-four hours later, all was ready. There were clean sheets on our bed, the kids were settling in theirs and I felt sick. I had barely touched my evening meal; my tummy was too twisted to eat but I was pleased to see Kate suffered no such problems.

After dinner she went up to the bedroom to prepare herself while I washed up the dishes. The job done, I checked that all three children were fast asleep then stood in the hallway in my coat, waiting for the order to leave.

At eight twenty-five, Kate came downstairs looking clean, fresh and very desirable. She had just showered and was dressed in her best, sexiest night gown, the one she had worn on our wedding night and was kept for special occasions, like birthdays and wedding anniversaries.

I was a bit taken aback at first but then consoled myself with the thought that my wife’s first infidelity was going to be a special occasion for both of us. I could tell she was pleased by the way I looked at her.

“Do I look alright?” she asked.

“You look beautiful,” I told her truthfully. “Irresistible.”

“Thank you,” she replied bashfully. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m going to have to be,” I shrugged with a wry smile. “There’s no going back now, is there?”

She smiled back. We stood awkwardly for a moment.

“What time is it?” she eventually asked anxiously.

“Eight twenty-eight. Feeling nervous?” I replied.

“Wouldn’t you be?” she smiled. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Neither have I. It’ll be a first for both of us.”

“I suppose so,” she agreed.

“But not the last?” I suggested.

“That depends,” she replied enigmatically.

I was just about to ask what it depended upon when the wall clock chimed the half hour.

“You’d better go,” Kate said softly. “Don’t come back before eleven, remember?”

“I remember. Good luck,” I said, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Relax and enjoy yourself. Do whatever comes naturally. It’s all okay with me.”

I opened the front door and stepped over the threshold.

“I love you Kate,” I said as the door closed behind me.

Out in the open and forbidden to return home I felt suddenly alone; alone and with two and a half hours to kill.

Two and a half long hours for my wife and her first ever lover to enjoy each other’s bodies.

A full hundred and fifty minutes together in our bed; the bed in which all three of our children had been conceived.

It was a long time to be alone with my thoughts and imaginings. What could I do?

At first I drove around aimlessly then went to a local bar and watched part of a football match on TV. It would have been exciting too – certainly my fellow watchers thought so if their yelling was any guide - but my heart wasn’t in it. Worse still, I promised myself I would only have one drink as I wanted to be aware and ‘up to it’ when I got home.

After the match I walked up and down the streets near the bar, watching my feet and staring at my watch until finally the hands showed twenty past ten and I could return to my car.

I drove home slowly, arriving about ten-thirty and parked a little way down the street. Alan’s car was in the driveway where my car should have been. I laughed hollowly; that wasn’t the only place Alan had been which should have been reserved for me alone.

I killed the engine and the lights then sat silently watching the house, waiting for him to leave.

The thoughts that were going through my mind were tumultuous. Would Kate want me when I got home? Had they really fucked this time? Had he been gentle with her or had he been rough? Had she reached orgasm? Was his cock really so much bigger than mine?

And all the time I had a raging erection. All I wanted was to see my wife; to gaze on her well-fucked body and then to fuck her myself.

It seemed like hours were passing but when Alan finally emerged it was only fifteen minutes later. I couldn’t see Kate standing in the doorway wishing him goodbye though he turned as if she was there. A moment later he had fired up his car and driven discreetly away.

I started up my own engine then quietly pulled my car into the place my Boss had just vacated. I took out my keys then sat back in the driver’s seat and stared straight ahead.

The house looked the same as it had always looked but I could feel in my bones that something had changed. I opened the car door and stepped out onto the driveway, closing it quietly behind me. Three, four steps later and my hand was on the front door, opening it equally silently before stepping into the house I had left so very recently.

The hallway was lit but empty. The lounge and kitchen were silent. I walked up the stairs and into what used to be our bedroom and looked inside.

I gasped.

There in the low light was my wife. She was lying on the bed, on the side I usually slept. She was naked.

It had happened, and from the smell of sex in the room, not long ago.

Without a word I stripped off my clothes and joined her on the sheets that had just witnessed her first marital infidelity and my transformation into a cuckold. My heart was beating wildly.

I moved my face closer to hers, my eyes looking for signs of guilt or remorse in her expression but finding none.

I made to kiss her lips but instead she placed her hands either side of my face and steered my head down her soft, womanly body, over the belly that had held our three children and towards the orifice through which they had all emerged.

Her legs parted as my face drew close to her vulva. My chest was tight, my heart thumping almost painfully as I looked at my wife’s most private place – a place which was no longer mine alone.

It had really happened!

Kate’s outer labia were pink and puffy. Her long, protruding inner lips were thick and engorged, standing well proud of her slit which itself was wide open, its dark pink lining clearly visible. Between those thick inner lips the entrance to her deep, dark tunnel gaped in a way my cock had never produced.

Whatever had caused this had been thick and long and had penetrated her body many times.

A powerful smell of semen mixed with a woman’s climactic juices percolated from her obscenely-presented groin. I stared at the deep dark hole on the centre of her vulva, my face merely inches away from the undeniable evidence of my wife’s first infidelity.

“You really did it,” I gasped.

“We really did it,” Kate sighed, her voice tired.

She wriggled her hips a little to get more comfortable and as I watched, a small trickle of pale, sticky fluid emerged from the darkness of her gaping vagina, trickled down towards her bottom then onto the rumpled newly-stained sheet. With it came a strong waft of semen mixed with her juices.

An irresistible desire on my part to perform the act we both knew I had been born for washed over me.

“Shall I…” I began to ask.

Again she said nothing; a simple nod told me all I needed to know. Obediently I lowered my mouth to her vulva… and for the first time in my life, entered cuckold heaven.

As I had expected, the taste of another man’s semen lapped directly from my wife’s freshly-fucked cunt while my erection was still rampant was so different from anything my own efforts had produced as to take me to another world. The aroma of her soiled body mixed with the strong, earthy flavours of semen, lubrication and a woman’s orgasmic secretions was like a narcotic, making my head spin.

Over and over I lapped at her slit, scooping any and all escaping fluids into my open mouth, running the flat of my tongue over her engorged outer lips, sucking her long inner lips between my teeth and thrusting my tongue deep into her open vagina in search of more precious goo.

As I revelled in the new, pungent aromas filling my nose and mouth, Kate writhed and moaned around me, her legs clamping on the sides of my head as the pleasure I was delivering made its way through her soreness and into her brain.

Eventually she needed more and, as silently as she had steered my head towards her groin, she now drew my face towards hers. We kissed, my slime covered-mouth slipping messily over her hot dry lips as she manoeuvred her body beneath mine.

My cock, though small was still hard and it found its way easily into her wide open vagina, penetrating its entire length in a single stroke. She felt very loose around me, convincing me even more strongly that the erect penis that had preceded mine had been very much larger and much more satisfying.

I thrust into her like a man possessed, the wet slapping noises emanating from our conjoined loins sounding crude and feral in the silent bedroom. Her hands touched my sides encouragingly as I fucked her for all I was worth, spurring me on to even greater efforts until I could take no more, my body went into spasm and I added my own semen to whatever drops of Alan’s I had left inside my wife’s spent body.

That night, and every other date night, I slept happily on the wet patch.


So began the next four years of our married life.

The next few days were strangely normal. At times I could forget that my wife was now unfaithful and that I had become a cuckold. At other times all I wanted was learn more about what had happened that extraordinary night.

But I was to be disappointed; when I asked my wife about her lover’s size she would only reply that he was about the same size as me. Never once would she give any other reply. I was sure this wasn’t true. I was very familiar with the appearance of my wife’s vulva after sex; no erection as small as my five inches could have caused the devastation I witnessed after Alan’s visit.

No matter how many times she assured me, I remained convinced that, having once taken his cock in her mouth, the main attraction must have been his size.

At work, things carried on as normal. Alan, my Boss, only ever referred to their meetings once and that was before they had fucked for the first time, when Kate first told me that he had invited her out for a meal.

“I hope you don't mind, John,” he asked almost casually,

"Kate is an adult and she can decide to do what she wants," I replied.

I remember those words clearly even today. From this Alan must of course have realised that for from objecting, I condoned and encouraged their affair.

They were both very discreet about their dalliances; nothing else was ever said to me and our relationship at work was always very positive and professional. Indeed, when he was promoted I took his place.

From time to time I would hint to Kate that I would like to see them actually fucking but each time I was told quite emphatically that I could forget about it. That was simply not going to happen; I was getting my rewards when I got home and would have to be satisfied with that.

Similarly I was never asked to help Kate get ready for his visits other than to get our three young children into bed and settled before I left the house.

After only a few weeks, Kate told me calmly that she was not happy with meeting Alan the couple of times per month we had agreed. She asked if I would mind going out for a couple of hours so that he could come and have sex with her there and then.

I of course agreed.

From then on, Kate and Alan would meet in our house as often as they wanted. When asked to leave, I would wait and watch nearby, excited, full of anticipation, eager for him to leave. When his car left the driveway I would arrive home within minutes of their fucking to join my unfaithful wife in our soiled marital bed and eat the marvellous fresh creampies between her thighs.

Apart from when she had her period their meetings were weekly, occasionally more often. Sometimes they would fuck twice; sometimes they would only fuck once after she had given him a blowjob and let him cum in her mouth.

This excited me even more; it was something Kate would never let me do. A blow job certainly but I had never cum in her mouth. We always had great sex afterwards; whatever she really felt, Kate always told me she was happy just to have me inside her again.

Though all this happened many years ago I still remember the extreme conflicts and emotions that it used to stir within me when I knew that a meeting between the two of them, purely for sex, was coming up.

As the day approached, my arousal would grow and grow until the time set for their dalliance when I would be buzzing with sexual excitement - until of course, the moment came when I had to leave home so that Alan could come around.

Once he was there in bed with my wife the arousal remained but I remember being anxious too. It sounds ridiculous now but I can't remember precisely what I was anxious about. I suppose it had to be that another male cock was fucking the cunt that was supposed to be mine alone but this had happened many times and my wife had always come back to me.

However, when I saw that he had left our house, the overwhelming arousal always returned with a vengeance. I couldn't wait to get home to enjoy the creampie he had left and the passionate love making that always followed.

Kate was often overcome with emotion too, always wanting me to please her orally first, cleaning away her lover’s semen with my tongue before making love to her myself; telling me how much she wanted my cock in her cunt again; that however small it might be, mine was the cock that she really preferred.

It was a lie; I knew it was a lie but I didn’t care.

Throughout the whole time that she cuckolded me, I can honestly say that she never once tried to humiliate me in any way and was careful never to compare Alan and me either in size or performance. All she would tell me was how many times he had fucked her, never how they had done it no matter how often I asked.

I was getting what I wanted and I should be happy with that.

The closest she ever came to confessing she had been having a much larger cock came sometime after it had all ended. From then to this day she often refers to my erection as my “lovely little boys cock".

And of course I had seen for myself many times the devastation that his fucking wreaked on her cunt. No five inch ‘little boy’s cock’ could have produced that!


This arrangement went on for almost four years until one day out of the blue Kate told me that she did not want to continue her relationship with Alan any longer. Concerned, I asked what had happened to cause this abrupt change of heart after so long.

She told me that she was worried her feelings for her lover were becoming too intense. For my sake and that of his wife, our three children and his two kids she felt it had to stop before any serious damage was done.

When the relationship ended I was very disappointed. Over the years I tried to encourage her to have another fuck buddy but eventually she got very angry and told me very clearly that she didn't want any further discussion about it. In fact she hardly spoke to me for several days and sex was cut off for several weeks.

Because of that I never questioned her decision or brought the matter up again.

At the time I thought that she was just tired of the affair but now, thanks to telling you my thoughts and memories in detail, I realise that at the time that Kate decided to end her affair with Alan she was obviously falling in love with him.

I am now extremely grateful that she chose to stay with me and I love her for it. From that day to this, I have been her only sexual partner, as far as I know.

Her relationship over, when our sexual relations began again she asked me to shave my cock and balls, saying I was too hairy down there. At the time I didn't ask why; perhaps Alan was less hairy or was even shaved himself but I did know Kate had never had an orgasm on my cock. I was prepared to do anything that might help.

I have to agree, being hairless did make my cock look a lot bigger but it didn't change things in bed. I had always brought her to orgasm orally, either before or after making love, and that is how it has remained.

Despite that, to this day I still shave as I still find it very sensual.


So the cuckolding period of our lives came to an end.

The memories of that extraordinary time are strong and I regularly think about it. I read cuckold stories on the internet whenever I can, knowing what a high I used to get and in fact I can still get very aroused by these stories even at my age.

I suppose if you have been involved in a cuckold relationship, and enjoyed it, you never forget the highs. I don't think that I ever had any lows during that time other than its rather sudden end.

Regrettably about ten years ago I began to suffer from erectile dysfunction. Now it has reached the stage where even with medication I cannot get hard enough to have penetrative sex, so we are back to where were before we got married.

Life is strange.

For the last three or four years we have had to rely on oral sex and masturbation in bed. It works as it always did but is no substitute for feeling Kate’s soft, meaty cunt around my hard shaft. Sometimes, after I have climaxed and quite out of the blue, Kate will scoop up my cum in her fingers and put it in my mouth. Though she never mentions it, it seems that she still remembers my cream pie addiction.

I still get excited when I think about it thirty odd years later and I would love to experience the taste of another cum filled pussy, but I know that is not going to happen.

I am however grateful for having the experience of having had probably close to two hundred creampies.

Sorry that this has been so long but you are the first person that I have ever told about my experience.


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