A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 24

The Whirlpool was a big thing: big enough for two people to sit side by side, facing each other. It took a while to adjust the water so the temperature would be comfortable for them, and longer for it to fill. I added some bubble bath, and when it was ready I gently knocked on their bedroom door and told them.

They emerged a few minutes later, naked, holding each other and smiling. As they walked into the bathroom Sally said, "Paul, I think we'd each like a glass of wine in the tub." So as they got settled in the tub and experimented with the water jet settings, I went to the kitchen, opened the wine I had brought for them, and poured two glasses.

I brought wine to my wife and her lover as they bathed naked in the whirlpool. (I've read and re-read that last line a dozen times, thinking about what I said... and thinking about the fact that it is real. "Humbling" doesn't begin to describe the feeling of serving your wife and her lover while they are together; "humiliating" is closer, but even that seems too gentle. Probably "emotionally devastating" is most accurate, but even that doesn't include the added twist, that Sally, Ted and I all know that it excites me to be treated this way. God, how it excites me to be treated this way!)

I handed them their drinks. The bubbles in the whirlpool were increasing at a slightly alarming rate, which prevented me from seeing anything except their heads. But I saw where they were each sitting, and from that I got a good idea of who was touching whom, where, and how.

I asked if I could stay and watch. Ted said "No" almost immediately, and Sally showed no sign of disagreeing. As I headed out he added, "But you can leave the door open." I was SO excited, and even realizing how pathetic I was to be excited that I could listen to their conversation couldn't diminish my joy.

They talked about work, about family, about how Ted loved the way the bubbles formed mounds on Sally's tits. At one point Ted noted that hot tubs are lots of fun, but hell on an erection. I sat just outside the door and masturbated as I listened to the lovers' conversation. Finally, Sally told me to come in and help her out of the tub.

Please picture this scene: Sally and Ted are standing in the tub; she is on his right, facing me. As she goes to step out I take her right hand, and for a moment Ted and I are equally balanced, standing with Sally between us. Ted and Sally are naked; I am only wearing my unbuttoned shirt. To someone who saw just that picture, just that moment, it might appear that we were a ménage-a-trois: two men preparing to bed the beautiful, naked woman. But nothing would be further from the truth.

When Sally was out of the tub and finished drying herself off, I saw there were bubbles on her chest, just below her neck. Without even thinking I picked up a towel and cleaned away the bubbles; what could be more natural than doing this for my wife? Sally smiled at me – with love and a little pity – took Ted's hand, and walked back into the bedroom with him.

When the door closed and I resumed my position sitting outside their bedroom, the sound of the vibrator mixed with the word that kept sounding in my head. The word isn't used very often these days, but in biblical times it was an important role: eunuch.

The dictionary defines eunuch as, "a castrated man, especially one formerly employed by Oriental rulers as a harem guard." Of course, I haven't actually been castrated; I'd hate that, and Sally would never do that to me. She has nothing against my penis; she just doesn't want to feel my penis against her! But over the years, as she has grown into her sexual relationship with Ted and more distant sexually from me, I have found excitement in the sweet pain of her infidelity. This has enabled and emboldened me to accept my new role in our relationship: the husband who never upsets his wife by asking for sex, and who does everything in his power to make sure her dates with her lover are as wonderful as they can be. So I'm not exactly a eunuch. Maybe "voluntary eunuch" is more accurate.

Eunuchs served in the harem because they were no threat to the women, or to the men. They could see the women dressed for sex, or not dressed at all; there was nothing they could do about it other than to fulfill their tasks of responding to the women's needs and desires. Isn't that me? It's been more than five and a half years since we stopped having sex, and we have reached a point where I wouldn't think of asking, and Sally doesn't worry about my asking. We see each other naked (since I'm NOT a real eunuch, that excites me tremendously), but there is no more possibility that we will have sex than there would be if I were castrated. And I do everything I can for her, for them: I make the hotel arrangements, help her get ready, drive her to him, open the door and invite him in, get them coffee while they make out, and wish them a good time when they get up to go to bed. I run their bath and bring them wine. I help my wife out of the tub and dry her chest for him.

I'm a voluntary eunuch. Holy shit, I really am. I chose this. I accept this. And it actually matters to me that I fulfill my role as completely and as beautifully as possible.

Ted's noises continued for a few more minutes, diminished and then stopped. There was quiet for a while, then Sally called out to tell me they were ready for lunch.

Jumping to fulfill my servant role, I went to the kitchen and prepared their lunch. When it was ready I knocked softly on their door to let them know. They came out shortly after; Ted in his button-down shirt, open and pulled to the sides so his cock stuck out in front of him, still hard; Sally in her red robe, which was untied by still pulled together enough to hide her breasts – from me.

Lunch was ordinary, if you consider lovers eating lunch while the husband sits nearby and masturbates ordinary. But it was ordinary for us, with the happy couple paying little attention to me and continuing to catch up on their lives. When they finished they got up to head back to bed, but once again Sally detoured over to me and gave me a mind-blowing kiss before returning to her lover. The door closed, Sally's vibrator started up, and I sat outside the door while Ted made my wife cum. The sounds of her pleasure were unmistakable: deep, strained and finally unbound as she came in his arms. I looked at my own rock-hard penis, thought of the pleasure they share only with each other, and knew this is REAL.

It took Ted longer to cum the second time; more accurately, Sally sucked and fucked him longer until she made him cum in her. Then it was quiet, and I did my best to be quiet as I masturbated furiously, the echoes of their cries of passion reverberating through my head and my body. Ted was right: I will NEVER know how it feels.

Later, Ted came out dressed and ready to leave. He sat down on the couch, and without even thinking I slid to the floor by the chair I was on. It didn't feel right to be at the same level as him, and he was comfortable with my decision. He told me about making love with my wife: what they did, what they talked about, and even a little of what they felt together. He started talking about the outfit she wore, and kept coming back to how much he loves her tits, both in and out of her bra.

He asked me if I ever get to be close to her tits. I thought about it and said the only time is before he arrives, when Sally has me check them for any stray hairs. He looked surprised, and asked me to repeat what I had said. I thought for sure Sally had told him about this, but clearly not: he was really amused by what I was saying. As I told him about getting just an inch or two away from her nipples so I could find the tiniest hair she overlooked, he did something he had never done before: he laughed out loud. After years of him humiliating me by cuckolding me, I had finally shared something so demeaning, so shameful, so emasculating that I got him to laugh at me. And that, too, seemed right; I was glad I could entertain him a little.

I jerked my cock like I wanted to pull it off, and Ted rose to leave.

"Thank you for giving my wife what I can't give her – what I never could," I grunted to him as he walked to the door.

He turned, smiled and said, "Oh, it was completely my pleasure. As soon as Sally is ready, I'll come to your house."

I let Sally sleep for an hour, as I sat in the living room and masturbated. I replayed the events of the day: the outfit, the blowjob in front of me in the living room, the bath, the wet, slippery hand job, the closed door while the lovers made love. I thought that everything had gone really well today, and I was proud.

I woke Sally with a kiss, which she eagerly returned. Not a sexual kiss, of course, but a loving one.

On the way home, Sally said, "You're really quiet when you're outside the door. Thank you."

I said she was welcome, and I love her. She told me she loves me, too, and we drove home together. Just me, my wife and her lover's sperm in her womb. Somewhere along the way I realized how proud I felt that she had complimented me for being quiet while she fucked Ted.

It is REAL. All of it. I am a cuckold and a voluntary eunuch; no longer a sexual threat, no longer even a sexual consideration, but a great guy to have on dates because I'll take care of all the arrangements and then sit quietly while the lovers are in bed. My wife is glad, her lover is happy with our arrangement, and I am where I was always meant to be.

Cuckold Paul

P.S. – Since it takes me a while to write up our experiences, I'm happy to say that Sally's surgery went very well, and she's recovering at an amazing rate. She's now practicing her "most important exercise," which is the one where she bends her knees enough to be able to wrap them around Ted's back :-) .