My Wife, My Queen Ch. 02-03

Please note: This story involves themes of cuckolding and female-led relationships.

Thanks for the feedback on chapter 1. I was really pleased to hear that some folks enjoyed it.

I plan to write at least two more chapters. I'm a pretty slow writer, though. I hope you'll check back from time to time for new material.

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Chapter 2

I lay next to her, listening to her soft, measured breathing. She'd drifted into sleep minutes after rolling over on her side, my hard penis trapped between her cheeks, completely at peace in both mind and body. It had been a big night. She'd spent the evening before taking her first lover. Then, she'd returned to a massage by her loving husband (me) and plenty of reassurance. She had been magnificent. Everything had been perfect. It had been her evening and her triumph.

Then, there was me. Where she was complete, I was a mess. My full cock was swollen with need. Adrenaline coursed through my body. I was practically vibrating with arousal. I ached. I suffered. For although last night had been the most erotic of my life, my wife had still asked me not to come. I had to trust her. To be honest, it was more than that, too. I relished the opportunity to obey her. I don't know how I'd made it this far, though, especially with relief so close at hand. Just a quick trip to the den for a little private time and I'd at least have had a chance at sleep. It was very, very tempting. But when I tried slipping my hand under the covers and swirling my fingers in the pre-cum that had accumulated there, I knew I couldn't take it further. Her disappointment would be more than I could bear.

I started to slowly run my fingers up and down my shaft. Just lightly, teasingly. Not quite enough to work toward orgasm. I simply couldn't help myself, but strange as it may sound, it helped center my thoughts. I gathered a little of the slickness on my index finger and circled it on my sweet spot. Dangerous, but nice.

Longingly, I glanced over at her sleeping form, the white sheet draped across the small of her back, almost, but not quite, revealing the sweet cleft of her bottom. I smiled. It struck me that the sheet was a perfect metaphor for my fantasies. I could easily have taken what I wanted by simply moving it. But it was the longing, the aching, the needing that I craved.

My mind was spinning. I thought of all our conversations and of the excitement which had led up to last night. I remembered the heady times we'd made love, arousing ourselves with tales of cock-heavy strangers sliding into her warm, sweet depths. We'd come so far, and yet I wondered if I was prepared to ask her to take the final step. You see, as much as we'd already shared getting to this point, I had still kept my final secret from her. To be her cuckold was glorious, but I wanted more. I wanted to worship her, and to make her my queen. I craved the privilege of being owned by her, body and soul.

It was turning out that my mind was even harder to calm that my body.

I remembered when thoughts of cuckolding first joined us in our marriage bed. We were masturbating together, one of our favorite things to do when we feeling horny and naughty. We'd lay next to each other in our darkened bedroom, slowly teasing ourselves. Drawing out our pleasure for hours while we took turns spinning fantasies for each other. And as each of us drew close to climax, the other would make love with their voice, whispering their darkest thoughts into their lover's ear, stoking the fire within. In orgasm, we acknowledged the power of our partner's erotic gift, revealing our souls as we surrendered to pleasure in full view of the other. When I saw my wife begin to move her hips, a sure sign that she was building toward her peak, I loved to slide my fingers into her warmth. It was as if could know her completely at that moment just through my hand. I could feel her fingers stroking her clit, first with strong, easy strokes, but then becoming more and more frantic as she got closer. She strummed with a speed I could never match or even quite believe. Her breath would start to catch and I could feel her hips push eagerly against my fingers. I'd fuck her with my hand, first tenderly, and then with mounting force. I knew that she wanted to be used hard when she came. Her hips would move faster and faster, then suddenly stop and tense. And when the waves hit, I could feel the lovely mouth of her womanhood grasping greedily at my fingers. I always felt so close to her then, and I signed my love with a tender kiss on her wet lips and swollen clit.

That particular night, we'd brought some wine into the bedroom and pushed some pillows up against the headboard to sit against. I don't remember that we intended to indulge in our special story time, but as we talked and the glasses were emptied, I couldn't resist turning to her and slipping my hands into the loose pajamas she was wearing. Her breasts were as soft as doves, and I teased her hard nipple for a moment before bringing my hands down to cup her heavenly mound. She sighed and welcomed me, sliding down a little to push against my hand. I began to to run my index finger along her slit to coax out her arousal.

"Mmmm. That's so nice, Honey," she whispered. "I didn't tell you, but I've been a horny girl all day. Ahhh!" She arched her back in pleasure. "Touch me some more. Please?"

How lovely she was. I started gently circling her labia just above her clit and snuggled in against her breast. "Your pussy turns me on so much. I'm rock hard for you. And what about you? Are we starting to get a little wet?" I asked, teasingly.

"You know I am. I'm purring." She unbuttoned her top with one hand and pulled my mouth to her sweet breast. "Would you tell me a story while you touch me? Make me come under your hands. I want you to watch your wife come."

"My little goddess," I murmured, molding myself against her soft body, "Let me make you feel good. Come for your husband. You're so beautiful and it makes me so proud."

I then began to weave the tale that marked the first, uncertain step on our path. The journey that led us here, to a sleeping, contented wife, and her aching, swollen cuckold. It was just a fantasy about a MFM threesome. Truthfully, I don't even remember it that well, but you'd have thought I was Leo effing Tolstoy that night, judging from the way she got off. And as for me, the thought of watching another man sliding his hard cock into her aroused me like no other. I pictured her wrapping her legs around his strong ass and welcoming him into her body. I'd been searching for a way to suggest that image to her until I hit on the idea of a threesome. I didn't even know the word "cuckold", then, but I knew what I needed.

From that night forward, another man would always join our special nights. I'd work in different threads, different scenarios, but I think she noticed that the stranger was always positioned as the focus of her attention. "It turns you on to think of me with another man, doesn't it?" she asked one night, smiling. "You never told me."

I avoided her eyes. I was a bit ashamed of this one. "It's true, Honey. I don't know why, but nothing gets me hotter than picturing you opening yourself up to him."

She gently took my chin in her hand and brought my eyes around to hers. "Don't worry, My Love. It is a hot thought, isn't it? That's why we do this, to turn ourselves on. Besides," she grinned, "I like it, too."

After that, she would often find ways to tease me with our shared secret during the day. When she'd come home late from work, she might make a reference to having had to meet her boyfriend. When I asked if she'd mind if I went out golfing, she'd casually mention that she owed her friend a blow job, anyway. Then, one unforgettable afternoon at the park, she pointed out a shirtless young man and whispered in my ear, "I'd love to grab that hard ass and pull him inside me. I wonder if he'd like to fuck me? Should I ask him?" The way she looked at me (and him) I wasn't sure whether she was kidding or not.

"Um, do you want to?" I asked, my mouth suddenly dry.

"Maybe I'll go see," she said impishly, and in front of my disbelieving eyes, she unbuttoned her top a bit more, flashed a little cleavage, got up and walked over to him. They talked for a little while, and then she sat down next to him. She waved at me, laughing, turned to him, and stayed in conversation for far longer than seemed decent. At the time, I was sure that everyone in the park must know what was happening. I burned with shame, but was overwhelmed with arousal. Was she really going to do it? I'd dropped enough hints that she could guess I wouldn't object, but I couldn't believe that it might actually be happening right in front of my eyes. Had we finally arrived?

I watched her touch her hand to his shoulder and hold it there. What did it mean? We seemed poised at a tipping point. Move her hand to his chest or his thigh, and she was his. Remove it and leave, and she'd return to me. She walked back. Relief initially overwhelmed me, followed by a powerful wash of disappointment. Was this the life of a cuckold, then, to feel so wretched and aroused?

"That was fun," she said, joining me again. "How did it feel to watch me with another man?"

"Amazing. I can't even describe what it was like. It was like everything at once. I wanted to crawl in a hole. I wanted to open your wet pussy for him. I wanted to spray my load. And, oh yeah, I thought my heart was going to stop when you touched him."

"It seems I like being naughty. What would you have done if I'd accepted him?"

"It would have been so hard, but I'd have loved it, too."

"And if he didn't want you there? What if he and I had left together?" She looked at me meaningfully.

I paused. This conversation was quickly taking me places I wasn't sure I should go.

She took my hand. "Come on, Sweetheart. You can tell me. I probably already know."

I took a deep breath. I had to trust her. "Sweetheart, you're right. There's more. I don't just want to watch you with another man. I want to be your cuckold. I want you to take whoever you want, whenever you want. I want you to take your pleasure while I wait at home for you. I would suffer, but I know nothing would arouse me more."

She leaned back and exhaled, saying nothing. I got scared, then. Had I gone too far, too fast?

"Honey, that's seriously hot. Would you really want that? Would you really wait for me while I fucked my lover?"

"I would. I know it's so strange, but I want that more than anything. Is that OK? Is it too weird? I've always been ashamed to tell you. I was afraid that you'd think I was sick."

"No, Honey. Don't worry. You're safe with me."

For a while after that, we stayed poised on the precipice. Both of us were ready to take the next step. Neither of us were quite ready to say it. That changed on the night before her birthday. I'd worked out a little surprise for her, but she was the one who had control by the end of the night. We were cuddling in bed, both beginning to respond to the warm flesh in our arms. I felt her hips begin to push against me, rubbing her scent along my leg, and I knew I could spring my trap. Kissing down her body, I nuzzled at her neck and breasts before moving my head under the covers. There, I found myself with my favorite treasure in front of my lips, surrounded by her scent. I gently kissed her labia, starting slowly, and as I felt her respond, I slowly introduced my tongue into her slit. Soon, I was tasting her wetness and her lips opened up to the pleasure. I smiled. It was time for a something a little new. From beneath the covers, I once again began to weave a tale of another man, another cock, joining us and loving her. This time, though, I found the thick dildo I had hidden in the sheets and began to slowly stroke it up and down her slit.

"Oh, Sweetheart, he's so thick!" she gasped. "God, I need to be fucked!"

"He will, Baby. I'm watching him slide into you." I started to tease her with just the head. She was so wet, it was like she was sucking this strange cock up inside her. "He's working it in. You're opening up for him. Spread your legs, Honey. Let him take you."

"Please! I need him now." Her legs opened and she pushed desperately against the cock. "Don't tease me any more! Fuck me!"

With that, I slid the length of that fat cock inside her and began to stroke in slow, steady strokes. I could hear the smacking of her pussy juice, and her scent was all around me. Very quickly, her movements became frantic as she struggled desperately to swallow more and more of that hard, welcome intruder.

"Oh, God, he's making me come!" she wailed. "Harder!"

I don't think I've ever seen her come like that. She tightened, then moaned and flexed. Her orgasm kept coming in waves and I held fast to her hips and rode with her. "Oh, God, oh God! Oh, fuck! That was amazing! Don't pull him out yet, Sweetheart. I need to feel my lover some more." Sweat covered her and she struggled to catch her breath.

"Did your lover perform adequately," I asked smiling, knowing the answer already.

"Oh God, yes!" she moaned, as she began to collect herself. "Baby, we've got to do this! This is just too hot! I want a lover's cock in me! I'm going to die if we don't do this!"

"I know, Baby," I said. We'd finally broken through. "We're never going to be able to let this go until you do."

"Yes," she said, pulling me up her soft body and into her arms. And then she floored me, saying "I think I might know someone who'll help us, Sweetheart. I'll bet he has a nice cock, too."

As my thoughts returned to the present, I found my mind had calmed. It was clear, now, that she had been with me each step, as eager to take this journey as I had been. I still didn't know exactly where we were going or whether she would consent to be my queen, but in the end, the decision would be hers. I would simply follow, and with that thought, I finally found peace.

Chapter 3

Exhaustion must have won out, because the next thing I knew, I was woken to the sunlight streaming through the curtains and the sweet voice of my lovely wife. "Good morning, Darling," she chuckled. "We had a busy night. Were you able to sleep?"

"Barely," I responded, rolling toward her. "But it was wonderful. I love being your cuckold."

You are, aren't you?" She smiled. "Can you believe we really did it? I've got to tell you, I haven't come down off the high, yet."

"Neither have I, all appearances to the contrary. This is just wonderful."

She sat down on the bed with a serving tray. The blessed smell of coffee filled the room. She took my hand. "Honey," she said, "I've just got to thank you for last night. I thought it would be exciting and I knew you would like it. The thing is, I never imagined it would be so much fun! I know we've got a lot to talk about, but can you give me a preview? Do you think we should do it again?"

"If I get a vote, Sweetheart, I'd want that every week. Maybe not every day. My heart couldn't take it. But waiting for you and trying to picture what you were doing were the most erotic hours of my life. I can't wait to see how it feels the next time."

"Well, I just want you to know how much I appreciate it. You treated me like royalty last night. I'd like to return the favor today." She arched her eyebrows with mock seriousness. "I have plans."

When she leaned over to hand me my coffee, she placed her hand on my thigh to support herself. Then, she snuggled up, leaving her hand resting there, playing games with my poor, denied body. That was all it took, just her hand on my leg, to bring my cock to full, throbbing attention. One moment I was just waking up. The next, I had a penis that was aching, hard, and desperate.

She took notice of my condition and giggled. "That's right. You still haven't come, have you? Here I was having my fill, and you've been patiently waiting. Then she leaned over again to whisper in my ear, moving her hand to hold my cock through the sheet. "I want you hard and full for me today. Can you hold it for me?"

"I'll try," I said, struggling to control myself. My hips began to push involuntarily against her hand. Oh, God, it felt so good!. I needed release so badly!

"Shhh. Relax, Baby," she whispered. "Relax. Just accept the feeling. Don't fight it." She held my penis through the sheet without moving, and began to kiss me gently on the neck. "You're not going to come this morning. I'm just going to tease you for a while. It's going to be so worth it, Honey. Trust me."

Then, she began to gently squeeze my cock through the sheet. It wasn't nearly enough. I was going mad. This slow build was so frustrating, so agonizing, but every time I began to tense she would stop even that little movement and whisper again, "Don't fight it, Sweetheart. Just surrender to it," and she would wait until I had stopped before continuing.

Finally, I was reduced to incoherence, moaning, swearing, and babbling. I have no idea what I said. Something snapped inside me and I gave in and simply let the pleasure and frustration wash over me. Only then did she finally pull back the damned sheet and take my naked penis in her hand.

"That's better, so much better," she murmured. "I love this guy, you know. I may have fucked another last night, but I'll keep coming back to him." She then tenderly kissed my throbbing penis on the head, carefully swallowed him to the root, and placed one last sweet kiss on the underside. "There. I just wanted to get the taste of your cock back in my mouth. I've fixed breakfast for us out on the patio." With that, she got up and left the room, clearly expecting that I would follow. I don't know where she thought I would find the strength. It turned out she was right, though. I needed her so desperately that I had no choice but to seek her out.

She was there on the deck with a lovely spread of toast, yogurt, and fruit. When the sun is shining, it's a glorious place to be, and having her sitting, composed and beautiful in a simple, white summer nightgown only added to the sense of perfection. After the turmoil of the night before, it was like stepping into paradise.

I helped myself to a little breakfast, trying to pull myself together after her diabolical teasing. Once she sensed that I had calmed a little, she began to open up. "Last night was so much fun, Honey! You know how much I love you and our life together. We're so comfortable and easy. But I had forgotten what a thrill it was to be just a little nervous and uncomfortable. What would he be like? Would he like my body? What kind of lover would he be? Could I please him? Could I perform? All of those things were going through my head, but in a very good way. I want you to know, too, that it meant a lot to know that you were waiting for me and that I could return to your arms when the adventure was over."

She took a small sip of coffee and continued. "We met at the bar at the Hilton downtown. He was already there, and was sitting in a booth just a bit tucked away. He's a young guy at work. You wouldn't know him, but he's a good guy. We'd been having drinks together about once a week for a while, basically since I started to get the feeling that you wouldn't mind. Honestly, you would have laughed at us when I walked up. It was like we were meeting each other for the first time. He didn't know whether to stand or sit. I couldn't figure out whether to sit next to him, or across. We did an awkward little dance, and I just plopped down. Not a graceful start, I'm afraid. I sat across from him and did my best to pretend that it was just another drink, hoping to overcome my nervousness. As it turned out, it didn't take long. I found myself noticing his arms and hands in a way I hadn't before. They're really strong and muscular, and I imagined them circling my waist, cupping my ass, and pulling me in. Then, I started thinking about his penis, knowing it was waiting for me. What would it look like? How would it feel? It was as if a switch had been thrown after that. My body remembered why I was there.