This is part 2 of my first experience with the cuckolding lifestyle.
Though Mike sporadically entertained some of my husband’s questions, he spent most of our time at dinner asking about me, what I wanted, why we were interested in threesomes. I felt shy talking about it. We had to keep our voices down, and even so I got the feeling people at neighboring tables were trying to listen in, so I ended up leaning in and talking closely with Mike as we discussed the evening.
“I guess we’re mainly just looking to spice things up,” I said. “We tried finding a girl for a while but it never worked out.”
He nodded. “A lot easier to find a guy,” he said with a smile.
I glanced over and saw my husband sipping his *******, watching intently, and I realized how close I was to Mike. We were practically whispering to each other.
“So if you were looking for a girl and settled on a guy,” Mike continued, “is it safe to say you’re not exactly sure what you’re hoping to get out of tonight?”
I shrugged. “I guess you could say that,” I said with a smirk.
“Might be best to just let someone more experienced direct things then,” Mike said. I felt him place his hand on my thigh and drag his fingertips across my skin until he reached the hemline of my dress.
“I’m usually in charge when it comes to sex,” I said. “Might be difficult to change that.”
“With all guys, or just your husband?” He said.
I wrinkled my nose and lifted an eyebrow. “I guess just my husband.”
“Well then maybe this will be a good chance to try something different,” he said. He had a quick wit and didn’t let me run the conversation. As he continued flirting, he lifted the bottom of my dress beneath the table, just teasing me with the idea. I would’ve slapped my husband’s hand away for doing that in public, but I loved it. It felt dangerous and sexy. It made *me* feel sexy. I’d completely forgotten my husband was even there.
Mike and I flirted for another half hour or so and we finished a third round of drinks. Our conversation felt like sword play, parrying back and forth, making subtle moves to try and outmaneuver the other, until he finally said “I think we should head back to my place.”
I had told my husband I wanted to get a hotel because I’d feel a bit safer on neutral ground, but he’d mentioned Mike was willing to host. I asked what kind of place he had and Mike said “Don’t worry, it’s much nicer than any hotel room we’d get. There’s no point in wasting the money.”
Without bothering to ask my husband, he asked for the check and paid, then took me by the hand and led me out of the restaurant with my husband trailing behind.
On the way to the parking lot, my husband tried to participate more in the conversation, but it became clear that he wasn’t the focus. He felt like the third wheel, like the baby chatting in the back seat while the adults sit up front, and aside from the occasional “mhmm” and nod of agreement, I largely ignored him.
My husband walked toward our car and expectedly looked back for me to follow, but Mike was still holding my hand, pulling me away. Mike gave me a devilish grin and then looked over toward an SUV I assumed was his.
“Would it be okay if I rode with Mike?” I asked my husband, still feeling a bit timid.
My husband thought this over and then said, “Yeah that’s fine. You two can get more comfortable. I’ll just follow you there.”
A rush of excitement came over me and as we turned toward Mike’s car he pulled his hand from mine and slid it down to the small of my back. At this point he wasn’t asking me to follow...he was directing me, guiding me to where he wanted me to go.
He opened the car door for me and helped me inside. It was a nice SUV—leather interior, a nice sound system, heated seats. I sat down and waited for him as he walked around the car. The driver’s side door “clicked” and he sat down, started the car, then turned to me.
“Finally alone,” he said, leaning forward.
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and we kissed. Our lips locked and I felt his hands shoot down to my hips. He pulled me close to him, then grabbed my ass and grabbed for the bottom of my dress.
My mind returned to my husband. Wasn’t he waiting for us? What if he walked up?
I pulled back and snapped my head around to see where he was. Our car was running, the lights were on. He had to have been just sitting inside and waiting.
Mike leaned back in his seat and shifted the car into gear. “We can do more of that later,” he said, then pulled out of the parking lot. My husband followed.
“I want my husband to be involved,” I said abruptly as we drove away. “I don’t want this to be some thing where he just watches another guy fuck his wife. That’s not why we wanted this.”
“Of course not,” Mike said. “I don’t want you to feel that way.” He paused, glanced over. “It’s just hard to keep my hands off of you. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to separate you from him. That’s not why I’m here. I promise.”
This relaxed me a bit. I craned my neck and saw the headlights of our car following closely behind with my husband inside. I felt a bit guilty, felt like I should’ve been in our car discussing our plan for the night instead of sitting with Mike. I started wondering if this was a complete mistake.
Then I felt Mike’s fingertips on my inner thigh. I quivered, got goosebumps; my mind told me to pull away, slow down, but I wanted him to go higher, farther, faster. I instinctively spread my legs apart, just slightly, just enough so he could tell I wasn’t pushing him away, and his middle finger slid up between my legs. I felt him running circles around my clit, just caressing it over my thong, teasing and playing as we drove. My back arched and my head pressed back against the headrest. I wanted him. I wanted him to pull the car over, throw me on the hood and fuck me. I wanted him to lift my dress up, push my legs apart, and do whatever he wanted. I wanted him to put his hand on the back of my head, push me to my knees, and call me a good girl. I wanted to be his to play with.
And then it hit me: I had never felt this way before. I’d read about it, I’d heard of it, I’d seen in it porn and movies, but I had never wanted to be used like this. I’d never wanted to feel powerless, out of control, like a rag doll to be played with however he saw fit. I bit my lip and glanced over my shoulder again. My husband’s headlights were still there, a reminder that this was a threesome. This wasn’t me going on a date. It was supposed to be something for my husband, too. This was our substitute for an FMF, not me running off for an amazing night of no-strings sex.
I felt guilty, pressed my legs back together a bit, and Mike put his hand back on the wheel. “Tonight’s gonna be fun,” he said with a smirk. I was still wriggling in the seat trying not moan. I was trying to cover it up but it was impossible. If he’d told me to pull my panties off, I would’ve done it. If he’d told me to lean over the center console and suck his cock, I would’ve done it. If he’d told me to get in the back so he could pull over and fuck me over the backseat, I would’ve done it.
But he didn’t. He just kept driving and smiling, listening to my uneasy breathing and watching my occasional glances back at my husband’s headlights. Had he done this before? He felt like a con-artist setting me up, like a used car dealer sweet talking me into buying what he wanted me to buy. And yet...I loved it.
We arrived at his house and I realized how right he was. I didn’t need to worry. His house was a thousand times nicer than a hotel room. In fact, my first thought pulling up was how intimidated my husband would be seeing this place. Money, cars, clothes—it’s all just dick measuring to guys. If this was any indication, my husband was in trouble.
As I stepped out of the car I saw my husband staring up at the house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but it was bigger than ours. Nice than ours. In a nicer part of the city than ours and a nicer neighborhood than ours.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Mike said, walking to the door. “I just moved in last month so there are still a few boxes laying around and the walls are a bit bear.”
He opened the door and we walked into a foyer with a vaulted ceiling. Mike gestured toward the den where a set of leather couches were. My husband and I sat down and Mike poured us all a glass of wine.
Though I was sitting on the couch with my husband, I wanted to be across the room in Mike’s lap, straddling him, feeling his hands around me. My husband’s hands on my back barely registered with me. It was like he wasn’t there.
“Before we get sidetracked on more conversation,” Mike said, “I’d like to suggest we just start enjoying ourselves. I don’t want the evening to get away from us.” He then stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt, staring into my eyes, daring me to say no.
I stood up, off of my husband’s arm, and slipped my dress off of my shoulders. It fell to the floor and I stepped out of it, smiling as I was the first to get undressed. Mike sped up, pulling his shirt off an walking toward me, and my husband begin fiddling with his behind me. I didn’t bother checking to see how far along he’d gotten before walking over to Mike.
Mike picked me up and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. As I did, I felt him between my legs, felt his cock getting rigid, pressing right up against my pussy. Mike placed his hands on my ass and smiled, knowing that I felt him...all of him...and carried me out of the den, calling back to my husband to follow him up to the bedroom. I looked over Mike’s shoulder, realizing how this probably looked, but saw that my husband still seemed excited. He didn’t have a scared or concerned look on his face. He still seemed to be enjoying the evening. I shook the thought of him free and returned to Mike, kissing him as he carried me up the stairs.
At that point my husband really was the third wheel. He wasn’t there to have sex, he was there to enjoy me having sex. I tried to stop worrying, stop feeling scared that he’d feel inadequate. He asked for this, right? He wanted to bring another man in. Hell, he gave me the guys to choose from. He could’ve easily given me the choice of three suburban bankers with 5” cocks, but he didn’t...this was as much his choice as mine.
Though Mike sporadically entertained some of my husband’s questions, he spent most of our time at dinner asking about me, what I wanted, why we were interested in threesomes. I felt shy talking about it. We had to keep our voices down, and even so I got the feeling people at neighboring tables were trying to listen in, so I ended up leaning in and talking closely with Mike as we discussed the evening.
“I guess we’re mainly just looking to spice things up,” I said. “We tried finding a girl for a while but it never worked out.”
He nodded. “A lot easier to find a guy,” he said with a smile.
I glanced over and saw my husband sipping his *******, watching intently, and I realized how close I was to Mike. We were practically whispering to each other.
“So if you were looking for a girl and settled on a guy,” Mike continued, “is it safe to say you’re not exactly sure what you’re hoping to get out of tonight?”
I shrugged. “I guess you could say that,” I said with a smirk.
“Might be best to just let someone more experienced direct things then,” Mike said. I felt him place his hand on my thigh and drag his fingertips across my skin until he reached the hemline of my dress.
“I’m usually in charge when it comes to sex,” I said. “Might be difficult to change that.”
“With all guys, or just your husband?” He said.
I wrinkled my nose and lifted an eyebrow. “I guess just my husband.”
“Well then maybe this will be a good chance to try something different,” he said. He had a quick wit and didn’t let me run the conversation. As he continued flirting, he lifted the bottom of my dress beneath the table, just teasing me with the idea. I would’ve slapped my husband’s hand away for doing that in public, but I loved it. It felt dangerous and sexy. It made *me* feel sexy. I’d completely forgotten my husband was even there.
Mike and I flirted for another half hour or so and we finished a third round of drinks. Our conversation felt like sword play, parrying back and forth, making subtle moves to try and outmaneuver the other, until he finally said “I think we should head back to my place.”
I had told my husband I wanted to get a hotel because I’d feel a bit safer on neutral ground, but he’d mentioned Mike was willing to host. I asked what kind of place he had and Mike said “Don’t worry, it’s much nicer than any hotel room we’d get. There’s no point in wasting the money.”
Without bothering to ask my husband, he asked for the check and paid, then took me by the hand and led me out of the restaurant with my husband trailing behind.
On the way to the parking lot, my husband tried to participate more in the conversation, but it became clear that he wasn’t the focus. He felt like the third wheel, like the baby chatting in the back seat while the adults sit up front, and aside from the occasional “mhmm” and nod of agreement, I largely ignored him.
My husband walked toward our car and expectedly looked back for me to follow, but Mike was still holding my hand, pulling me away. Mike gave me a devilish grin and then looked over toward an SUV I assumed was his.
“Would it be okay if I rode with Mike?” I asked my husband, still feeling a bit timid.
My husband thought this over and then said, “Yeah that’s fine. You two can get more comfortable. I’ll just follow you there.”
A rush of excitement came over me and as we turned toward Mike’s car he pulled his hand from mine and slid it down to the small of my back. At this point he wasn’t asking me to follow...he was directing me, guiding me to where he wanted me to go.
He opened the car door for me and helped me inside. It was a nice SUV—leather interior, a nice sound system, heated seats. I sat down and waited for him as he walked around the car. The driver’s side door “clicked” and he sat down, started the car, then turned to me.
“Finally alone,” he said, leaning forward.
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and we kissed. Our lips locked and I felt his hands shoot down to my hips. He pulled me close to him, then grabbed my ass and grabbed for the bottom of my dress.
My mind returned to my husband. Wasn’t he waiting for us? What if he walked up?
I pulled back and snapped my head around to see where he was. Our car was running, the lights were on. He had to have been just sitting inside and waiting.
Mike leaned back in his seat and shifted the car into gear. “We can do more of that later,” he said, then pulled out of the parking lot. My husband followed.
“I want my husband to be involved,” I said abruptly as we drove away. “I don’t want this to be some thing where he just watches another guy fuck his wife. That’s not why we wanted this.”
“Of course not,” Mike said. “I don’t want you to feel that way.” He paused, glanced over. “It’s just hard to keep my hands off of you. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to separate you from him. That’s not why I’m here. I promise.”
This relaxed me a bit. I craned my neck and saw the headlights of our car following closely behind with my husband inside. I felt a bit guilty, felt like I should’ve been in our car discussing our plan for the night instead of sitting with Mike. I started wondering if this was a complete mistake.
Then I felt Mike’s fingertips on my inner thigh. I quivered, got goosebumps; my mind told me to pull away, slow down, but I wanted him to go higher, farther, faster. I instinctively spread my legs apart, just slightly, just enough so he could tell I wasn’t pushing him away, and his middle finger slid up between my legs. I felt him running circles around my clit, just caressing it over my thong, teasing and playing as we drove. My back arched and my head pressed back against the headrest. I wanted him. I wanted him to pull the car over, throw me on the hood and fuck me. I wanted him to lift my dress up, push my legs apart, and do whatever he wanted. I wanted him to put his hand on the back of my head, push me to my knees, and call me a good girl. I wanted to be his to play with.
And then it hit me: I had never felt this way before. I’d read about it, I’d heard of it, I’d seen in it porn and movies, but I had never wanted to be used like this. I’d never wanted to feel powerless, out of control, like a rag doll to be played with however he saw fit. I bit my lip and glanced over my shoulder again. My husband’s headlights were still there, a reminder that this was a threesome. This wasn’t me going on a date. It was supposed to be something for my husband, too. This was our substitute for an FMF, not me running off for an amazing night of no-strings sex.
I felt guilty, pressed my legs back together a bit, and Mike put his hand back on the wheel. “Tonight’s gonna be fun,” he said with a smirk. I was still wriggling in the seat trying not moan. I was trying to cover it up but it was impossible. If he’d told me to pull my panties off, I would’ve done it. If he’d told me to lean over the center console and suck his cock, I would’ve done it. If he’d told me to get in the back so he could pull over and fuck me over the backseat, I would’ve done it.
But he didn’t. He just kept driving and smiling, listening to my uneasy breathing and watching my occasional glances back at my husband’s headlights. Had he done this before? He felt like a con-artist setting me up, like a used car dealer sweet talking me into buying what he wanted me to buy. And yet...I loved it.
We arrived at his house and I realized how right he was. I didn’t need to worry. His house was a thousand times nicer than a hotel room. In fact, my first thought pulling up was how intimidated my husband would be seeing this place. Money, cars, clothes—it’s all just dick measuring to guys. If this was any indication, my husband was in trouble.
As I stepped out of the car I saw my husband staring up at the house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but it was bigger than ours. Nice than ours. In a nicer part of the city than ours and a nicer neighborhood than ours.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Mike said, walking to the door. “I just moved in last month so there are still a few boxes laying around and the walls are a bit bear.”
He opened the door and we walked into a foyer with a vaulted ceiling. Mike gestured toward the den where a set of leather couches were. My husband and I sat down and Mike poured us all a glass of wine.
Though I was sitting on the couch with my husband, I wanted to be across the room in Mike’s lap, straddling him, feeling his hands around me. My husband’s hands on my back barely registered with me. It was like he wasn’t there.
“Before we get sidetracked on more conversation,” Mike said, “I’d like to suggest we just start enjoying ourselves. I don’t want the evening to get away from us.” He then stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt, staring into my eyes, daring me to say no.
I stood up, off of my husband’s arm, and slipped my dress off of my shoulders. It fell to the floor and I stepped out of it, smiling as I was the first to get undressed. Mike sped up, pulling his shirt off an walking toward me, and my husband begin fiddling with his behind me. I didn’t bother checking to see how far along he’d gotten before walking over to Mike.
Mike picked me up and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. As I did, I felt him between my legs, felt his cock getting rigid, pressing right up against my pussy. Mike placed his hands on my ass and smiled, knowing that I felt him...all of him...and carried me out of the den, calling back to my husband to follow him up to the bedroom. I looked over Mike’s shoulder, realizing how this probably looked, but saw that my husband still seemed excited. He didn’t have a scared or concerned look on his face. He still seemed to be enjoying the evening. I shook the thought of him free and returned to Mike, kissing him as he carried me up the stairs.
At that point my husband really was the third wheel. He wasn’t there to have sex, he was there to enjoy me having sex. I tried to stop worrying, stop feeling scared that he’d feel inadequate. He asked for this, right? He wanted to bring another man in. Hell, he gave me the guys to choose from. He could’ve easily given me the choice of three suburban bankers with 5” cocks, but he didn’t...this was as much his choice as mine.
Last edited:
