A Cuckold's Diary Ch. 32

Walking into the SaladWorks, trying my best to get your orders right (I wasn't going to stop masturbating to write them down, so I HAD to remember), I felt like everyone knew. When I ordered two salads, each to your specifications, I wondered how the people around me could possibly not see that they were not for me and you, or for me and a co-worker; it seemed to obvious that they were for my wife and her lover. Stupid, I know, but the experience of actually being cuckolded is so overwhelming that it felt like I had a Scarlet C painted on my back... and front.

I didn't race. Honest, I actually felt comfortable doing this errand, and knowing that the two of you were in bed together while I was out. Were you kissing, or touching each other's body, or fucking? I didn't know, but instead of feeling like I was missing something I just felt like doing this for you was part of being a cuckold and part of being cuckolded. I know so many cuckolds who are never allowed to watch, or even to be in the same place when their wife is on a date, that I felt wonderful about how much you share with me. The least I could do is get you lunch and give you time to be alone together.

When I returned to our suite at the hotel I laid out the lunch in the dining area and quietly knocked on the bedroom door - YOUR bedroom door - and told you lunch was ready. Sally, you came out first, slipping your robe over your shoulders because... well, because it wouldn't be proper for you to be naked in "public," would it? You sat at the table and asked how I was, and again I saw the love in your eyes even as you saw me sitting on the couch, masturbating my incredibly hard penis. I said I was doing really, really well, and asked if you were having a good time. You said, "I came twice - did you hear?" and of course I said yes. I thanked you for letting me hear, for letting me see, for... well, for everything, and you said "You're welcome. I'm having a wonderful time and I'm glad you are, too."

Then Ted joined you at the table, and the two of you ate your lunch while I sat nearby and jerked off, looking at you. I looked at you looking at him, and I looked at him looking at you - at your eyes, and at your tits which were playing a game of brinksmanship with the flaps of your robe.

Ted, I assume you knew that you were sitting with your legs open, so the whole time you sat and talked and ate with my wife I was staring at your cock - at the one cock my wife wants inside her. Thank you for that, too. I realized that while I have no desire to be involved with your cock (another cuckold stereotype), I've probably stared at it more than any other man on earth - both in person and in the couple of videos that the two of you have allowed me to take over the years. Whether you are offering me a close-up look at it sliding in and out of my wife's pussy or just keeping your legs open while you eat lunch with her, your cock is the proof that my cuckolding isn't fantasy, it is reality - OUR reality. The three of us.

When you finished lunch it was 1 p.m. We all knew we had to be out at 2, since we had extended our reservation until then and Sally and I both had to get to work. If you had said goodbye then, I would have been completely satisfied with what had happened. But you, Sally, were apparently not yet satisfied. You stood, looked at Ted and said, "I'm going to the bathroom for a minute. Will you meet me in bed?"

She walked off, leaving you, Ted, with a smile and a growing cock. I said, "I guess she's not done yet," and you answered, "That's good, because I have something for her." As you made your way to the bedroom I quickly took my place on the chair outside the bedroom door, my penis so hard it actually ached. I watched silently as you got into the far side of the bed, leaving plenty of room for your girlfriend to join you. You started stroking your cock, knowing full well that I was watching.

Sally walked by me without a word. She looked at you lying there naked and hard, and slipped her robe off her shoulders. From my vantage point I saw a profile view of my wife as she did this: completely naked, her tits exposed, her nipples hard and pointing at you. That was the last thing I saw before she closed the door in my face and went back to bed with you.

The two of you talked for a long time. I knew that Sally had cum twice, Ted had cum once, and you had played for hours, so I understood that you just might want to spend this time naked together before saying goodbye. By 1:30 I assumed the "fun" was over for the day... but I was wrong.

I heard Sally's vibrator start up, and the sound shot through me like electricity. Were you really going for THREE in one day?

Yes, you were. It took a while, but suddenly I heard the sound of you, Sally, getting close, and you, Ted, encouraging her. I actually got too close to the edge and even though I took my hand away from my penis, a little cum flowed out of me. It was sheer force of will that held off my orgasm as I listened to the two of you and watched a small stream of my semen drip out of my body.

Just as I was able to start stroking myself again, I heard my wife cum in her lover's arms... again. Sally, you cried out "OHHHH!" and then you said something I couldn't quite make out. But Ted, you heard her and you called out, "PAUL. Come in here NOW!"

I didn't hesitate. I heard the urgency in your voice, and suddenly I realized that Sally had said, "Call him in now." I opened the door and saw you, my wife, cumming. Hard. Really hard. In Ted's arms.

Sally, I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I have to say it: I've never seen anyone cum as hard or as violently as you do. Even in all the porn I've watched, no woman ever cums like you. I used to see it all the time; now I see it once a year. But even when I'm sitting outside the bedroom door, or sitting by our bed when you get yourself off, there is nothing in the world like your orgasms. I think they measure on the Richter Scale.

When I opened the door I saw you cumming. Your whole body was convulsing: your hips were slamming up and down, your legs were flailing, and as I looked at you I saw your eyes roll completely back in your head. The only parts of you that weren't moving were your tits, because they were anchored: the left one in Ted's mouth as he sucked your nipple, the right one between his thumb and forefinger as he pinched and caressed it. Suddenly I remembered something Ted said to me years ago: when I asked him what should hurt me most about what you did with him, he said it was your cumming. He said that everything else could be seen as "mechanical," even though it wasn't, but the only way you could cum with him is if you let go and give yourself to him. He said he treasured your orgasms above everything else, and I should be ashamed to know that you only want to give them to him.

I WAS ashamed. And so damn turned on that I had to stop touching myself to keep from cumming. Especially when I thought that YOU wanted me to see it happen.

I watched as you came, and as you rode your aftershocks. As soon as your eyes returned to the front of your head you turned to your lover and kissed him passionately and deeply. And that seemed right, too. Even though you wanted me to see you cum, I knew it wasn't about me.

After kissing him for a long, long time, you looked at me and said, "I want you to leave now."

I blubbered my thanks. I think I said, "Oh my God, thank you," and I quickly backed out of the room and closed the door. As I sat down in my chair I heard Ted groan, and that seemed right, too. Of course you would thank him for making you feel that good.

I don't know what you did to Ted, but he kept groaning. And panting. And gasping. Until finally he made the sound he makes when he cums. Did he cum in you, or on you, or near you? I don't know. It was none of my business. But his orgasm went on forever, and seemed to come from so deep inside him that I knew I had never felt anything like that. And yes, even that seemed right to me.

It was now 1:50 - had all of that taken only 20 minutes? I knew we had to leave, so I went back to the living room and recovered my clothes from the places I had tossed them after getting lunch. Ted came out of the bedroom first, dressed and ready to leave. He thanked me for making everything so perfect for both of you and he thanked me for bringing my wife to him, and I thought he would head out the door. But he said, "I need to kiss my girlfriend goodbye." He made one last trip to the bedroom, where I heard you both talk softly, and kiss. Then he came out and I thanked him.

Ted, thank you. Thank you for giving my wife what I never could. Thank you for making her feel like a woman, which I never could. Thank you for helping her get over her inhibitions about sex, and for showing her how good she can feel when she fucks a real man... and when a real man fucks her. Thank you, Ted, for understanding that I am her husband: that I love her, that she loves me, and that we both need you to give her what I never could. Thank you for understanding that I am a cuckold, and for throwing me the crumbs that make me long to bring my wife back to you again and again.

Sally - my love, my friend, my partner, my soul-mate: thank you. Thank you for taking a risk in 1998 by trying something new, something so out of character for you that to this day I can't believe you did it. Thank you for exploring, for experimenting, for sharing, for communicating, even when it was way, WAY outside your comfort zone. But most of all, thank you for loving me and for saying you don't have to work to love me. I'm a cuckold; I think I was always meant to be outside the door when you have sex with a man. But you know that, and somehow you love me. Do you love me anyway, or do you love me because of it, or do you "just love me"? I don't know, and I don't care.

I just love you, too.

Thank you.