This Cock Tastes Like My Wife

Because the following story is so long, it will be submitted in multiple chapters. This story is a cuckold story. If you do not like those stories or all of the "faggy" things they entail, do yourself the favor and stop reading now. You have a fair warning.

Any negative comments about the subject matter will be ignored and deleted. You were already told what the story is. I don't care if you like cuckold stories or not. I just want to know if the people who DO like them, like this one. Any other comments / feedback are welcome and appreciated.

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Part 1 -- The obsession.

"Oh god, DD! What have you done you filthy little whore?" I grunted, my dick in my hand, as my eyes jumped back and forth between the words on the computer screen and the naughty picture of my Asian wife that rested beside it.

I focused on the photo for a moment as I stroked. I never got tired of looking at it. My wife, absent of clothes but for her black thigh-high stockings, kneeling forward on the bed with that dirty look on her face, biting down on her bottom lip. Her full, golden breasts were dangling beneath her and the crack of her tight Cambodian ass was visible just above her head. It was the only dirty picture DD had ever allowed me to take of her, thank god for Tequila!

I remembered how I used to hate that she drank so much. She was such an angry, demanding bitch when she was drunk. After the night that picture was taken, I'd wished she drank more often.

My eyes returned to the screen and I read on. "Oh DD. Oh fuck. You dirty bitch! You can't even control yourself, can you? You need that cock! Fucking slut! Nasty slut! Dirty slut!" I rambled on incoherently as I took in the fictional account about some poor bastards cheating wife, soon bringing my cock to an eruption that landed all over my chest.

In that way, as I always did, I imagined that my wife was the slutty central character in the story I was reading. Finding that dirty Literotica site had taken my rituals of fantasizing in an entirely new direction.

My mind always became clear in the moments after I expelled my nut. Most of the time it was clouded by fantasy. I often had a hard time focusing on real life matters because of my obsession with the fantasy world that existed in my head. This was my release, and I welcomed the short-term clarity I got when I wasn't consumed by thoughts of sex.

But that clarity also came with feelings of shame and guilt. What kind of man was I to think of my wife as a cock hungry slut? In fact I felt down right pathetic afterwards, not only for my outrageous fantasies, but also for the way I vicariously lived them out via the Internet, an erotic picture of my wife, and a bottle of Jergens lotion.

As much as I obsessed over the idea of DD fucking other men, in those moments of clarity I knew that I'd never have the courage to broach the subject with her, nor the courage to risk losing her to another man. In my heart of hearts, I knew that was a good thing. The fantasy would have to remain exactly that, for my own good, and the good of my marriage. .

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Part 2 -- The monotony.

"Hey Boo Bear," DD said plainly as she walked through the door at 9pm that night.

"Hey sexy," I smiled at her, feeling my cock twitch.

DD got off work at five. When she came home late, it usually meant she'd stopped at the bar on her way home and had a few with her co-workers. But I knew right away she hadn't that night because if she'd been drinking she wouldn't have called me by that affectionate nickname.

"Sexy? Not even," My wife modestly blew off my compliment.

"Yeah, baby, you're always sexy," I said, getting up from my seat to give her a welcome home kiss.

"Oh no, don't you even start that with me!" DD wiggled away from me, giggling, "I know what you want!"

"Awww, come on! You know I'm always horny for you when you get home!" I followed her, grabbing her butt before she could escape.

"No! Stop!" She slapped my hand away with a smile on her face.

I relented for a moment, letting her take off of her shoes and put away her laptop. I knew eventually I'd get what I wanted. DD tended to make initiating sex with her a chore. I never saw it as her not wanting to, I just thought she liked to make me pursue her.

"You're home late," I noted, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, you know, we went to Bennigans after work."

"Yeah?" I said, puzzled, "You don't seem like you've been drinking."

"I only had one. I've got kind of a headache today," DD shrugged.

"I hope you're not going to use the headache excuse again," I said, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind, grinding the erection in my pants against her butt.

DD gripped my hands and pried them off of her. "Stop it now, seriously. All you wanna do is screw, screw, screw when I get home. Go watch sports or something," DD said in a more serious tone as she walked into the kitchen.

"Most women complain that their men pay too much attention to sports and not enough of it to them," I noted.

"Well I certainly don't have that problem, do I," DD said coldly as she poured herself a glass of water.

I frowned. DD was being more of a cold fish than usual. I decided to change my tactics. "Pleeeeease?" I sank to my knees and pulled her into me by her hips.

DD rolled her eyes, "Will you stop?"

"I can't help it baby," I said, unbuttoning the front of her suit jacket, "I just want to make love to my beautiful, hot, sexy wife." I pulled up the blouse under her jacket and began kissing her stomach. "Pleeeeeease?" I begged a little more.

Finally she cracked a smile. "Awwww, you're so cute when you beg. You should do it more often."

I grabbed the waist of her suit pants and attempted to undo the button, but she pushed my hands away and turned her back on me.

"Come on, DD! What gives!" I whined.

"I just don't want to, ok? What do you think anyway, I'm going to let you do it to me right here in the kitchen?"

Now it was me rolling my eyes. I wanted to fuck her all over the house, but DD always insisted on going to the bedroom.

I peeled my shirt off and dropped it on the floor, then undid my pants and dropped them to the floor along with my boxers. "Yes, I want to fuck you right here in the kitchen," I spun her around and pushed her back against the counter. Her eyes got big as she saw that I was naked. "I want to fuck my wife, and I want to fuck her now!"

"But..."

"Darareaksmey!" I stated her Cambodian name firmly.

"Ok. Ok. But in the bedroom," DD bowed her head and slid out of my grasp, heading for our bedroom.

I smiled, seeing my wife's submissive nature kick in. When all else failed, I knew all it took was demanding sex, rather than asking for it. I usually tried to avoid that tactic for two reasons, the first being that I wasn't the domineering type to begin with. I much preferred to feel like she wanted it as much as I did. And secondly, her enthusiasm for sex when I had to force it was minimal. But I'd settle for what I could get.

DD stepped into the bedroom and methodically removed her clothes while I sat on the old, squeaky, queen-sized bed. She was mechanical in doing so, not trying to be sexy at all.

Whether she tried to be or not, I always thought she was sexy. At twenty-nine years old with no kids, her body was a little thicker than when we'd first met, but still nice and firm.

She stripped down to her panties and bra and slid under the sheets before removing her panties.

I scooted closer to her and began kissing her sweet smelling neck as I slid my hand down to her hairy pussy. As my lips threatened to invade her cleavage she pulled me back up to her neck.

"They're sensitive today," she said plainly. That was always the excuse when she didn't want me to touch her boobs, which was often.

"I guess I'll have to find something else to do with my lips then," I said, giving her a soft kiss on her lips before sinking below the sheets on my way to her muff.

Again she stopped me, grabbing my shoulder and giving me a tug. "You can just put it in me. I don't need that today."

"But you're dry," I pouted, disappointed with all the rules she was throwing in my way.

"It's ok," she said, putting her hand on top of mine and pushing my fingers inside of her.

"Oh, wow," I said, surprised. She was as wet as I'd ever felt her once my fingers were inside.

I climbed on top of her and worked my hard dick inside of her. She laid there silently as I began to slowly pump her. "You like this don't you? Damn you're so freaking wet tonight baby," I sported a cocky smile on my face.

DD nodded, but stayed quiet, turning her head to the side.

I was used to her lack of interaction during sex, so as always, I found a way to make it more fun for myself. I became somebody else.

Some of my friends who were bored with their prude wives liked to close their eyes and picture another woman under them as they hammered away. But I liked to pretend that it was me, not her, that was another person.

I was another man who was thrusting inside of my wife's pussy. Where's your husband, slut? I bet he doesn't fuck you like this! You like having another man's cock in your pussy? I bet you do! I kept all of these thoughts to myself, only vocalizing them in my mind.

I was ready to cum quickly, as the idea of her lying there under another man excited me so much that I could hardly contain myself. But she put her hands on my chest and stopped my thrusting before I could.

"Do you want to try doing that thing again?" she said, shyly.

"What thing?" I searched my brain.

"Don't make me say it," she quickly turned her head away from me, too embarrassed to look me in the face. "The other night...after I came home from Bennigans."

"Ohhh!" I got excited. "Really?"

She shrugged. "I mean, if you want to. I don't care, I guess."

"Um...yeah, if it's ok?"

She pushed up against my chest. "Let me turn."

I eased off of her and let her flip around onto her stomach. She buried her face in the pillow.

I'd had to get very drunk one night while out with my friends to find the balls to touch the topic of talking dirty during sex with her. I bitched about how she barely moaned and never said anything when we made love. I'd been forceful that night, I pushed for it and she let me get away with a few mild comments; "You're bad girl" and "Who's your daddy", I didn't go too far with it. She'd insisted on lying on her stomach and having me screw her in the lazy dog position so she didn't have to look at me when I said those things.

The next day she'd gotten mad and outright refused to let me ever do it again. In fact, she cut me off from her pussy for a week. But a few weeks later she'd come home half in the bag after work and nonchalantly asked for it again. She still insisted on lying face down, so I knew she was still embarrassed, but I got my wish. That time I got a little more vocal with it, and I lasted all of 60 seconds because I'd got so turned on. She didn't hold a grudge the morning after, but she could hardly look at me either, so I didn't push the issue again.

I couldn't wipe the smile off my face as I slid into her sloppy wet cunt from behind, hoping that this was going to become a regular thing with her. As I began to thrust, I wasted no time in getting vocal with her.

"You like that you naughty girl? You like being fucked from behind?" I gasped, measuring my strokes, being careful not to cum too soon like the last time.

DD said nothing, but let out a very soft moan, so I continued.

"You're a bad girl, aren't you? Do you need to be spanked?"

"No," She said pointedly, into her pillow.

Bummer, I thought. Another one of my fantasies vetoed.

Her reluctance had an ill effect on my sexual mood and I felt myself getting a little softer so I thrusted harder. I decided to push it a little further. "You're my little Asian slut, aren't you?" I cringed as soon as I said it, half expecting to get slapped.

DD said nothing, but moaned again.

Oh yes! It's on! I thought. "Naughty little Asian slut! You like this white cock, slut? I know you do!" I was fighting with all my might to keep from cumming, but I couldn't get my self to slow down.

"Fuck me," she moaned into the pillow.

I almost came right there. DD never said stuff like that when she was sober!

"Yeah I'm going to fuck you, you dirty Asian whore! You want this, huh? You want it? You like this strange dick? I bet your husband doesn't fuck you like this!"

"What?" My wife turned her head from the pillow and looked at me from the corner of her eye.

Fuck! I cursed myself in my head, realizing I'd just let my internal fantasy come out into words. How was I going to explain that? "I uh..."

"I want you to stop now please," she said, making a sour face.

"Um...ok. If you want me to," I couldn't hide my disappointment. I started to fuck her in silence as usual, but she pulled her self up and made me slip out of her pussy.

"No, I mean just stop. Give me my panties," she sounded very uncomfortable.

"Baby, I don't know where that came from. What a weird thing to say, huh? Just caught up in the moment I guess."

"Can you just hand me my underwear?" DD now sounded irritated.

"O...ok, baby," I said, crawling onto the floor to retrieve them.

She snatched them from my hand and put them on under the sheets, then got up, grabbed her bathrobe and locked herself in the bathroom without another word.

I slapped myself upside the head. "Fucking stupid!" I knew she wouldn't be speaking to me for the rest of the night.

I didn't know exactly what it was about what I'd said that had set her off. It must have sounded odd but it was hardly an admission of my true fantasies. But as touchy as she was about anything outside of missionary sex, her reaction wasn't surprising.

What was more pressing to me at the moment, was my raging hard on. I was back in that fantasy world and I knew I wouldn't be good for anything until I had an orgasm. Nothing mattered more at that moment -- it was my perpetual Achilles heel.

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Part 3 -- The journey.

Once again I was back in front of my computer with the door to my messy office locked -- not that DD would come anywhere near me for the rest of the night -- but better safe than sorry. I pulled out the dirty picture from a locked desk drawer and put it in place, then pulled up the internet.

I sat there thinking about how it had come to this.

Porn had been an occasional crutch for my sex life in between girlfriends at first. But a long dry spell after college had made it more of a wheel chair than a crutch, and soon it was an obsession. I'd sometimes choose to sit home on the weekends while my friends partied, preferring to indulge in all night masturbation binges. Talking to girls wasn't easy for me, but porn stars were a sure thing.

Straight boy-girl porn wasn't enough after a while. It turned into girl-girl, then three ways, then gangbangs, BDSM, fetishes, I just had to keep pushing the limits. At some point I even began whacking off to an occasional gay porno, just to push the envelope - to feel like there was something taboo still left out there.

And when nothing seemed taboo anymore, I found myself increasingly unfulfilled, even depressed. Nothing satisfied my appetite anymore, everything was too tame. I couldn't even get it up half the time when I did find a girlfriend; they were all too vanilla to excite me. Ironically, I ended up falling in love with the most vanilla girl of them all, DD.

DD was piss drunk when I met her at a nightclub with my friends, which made her the aggressor. I would never have had the balls to talk to a woman that hot, nor would she have approached me if she'd been sober, again, thank god for Tequila! She seemed wild, and that excited me. Plus she was so exotic, interracial dating was new territory for me and that also excited me. We fucked in the back of her car that night, and the sex was awkward and clumsy at best, but I'd never come close to screwing a woman that fine before, so that was all the excitement I needed.

I never expected her to call me after that night, but she did. I'd soon find out that DD was just as boring as me without the liquid encouragement. But that's partly what made us click. I didn't need to pretend to be exciting and adventurous, and she was wholly content just having someone who she could talk to, cuddle with, and who didn't smack her around for not having dinner ready.

She was in a miserable arranged marriage to a man from her country, and I was a lonely pervert who was tired of making love to my palm. We were both desperate for something more fulfilling, and we found that in each other. The fact that she was married never escaped me when I fucked her, and for the time, that was my excitement in the sex department.

When she finally divorced him and married me, the thrill of sneaking around and poking another man's wife was gone. The taboo of marrying outside of my race was all I had left to excite me sexually, but that was wearing thin. White and Asian couples seemed to be everywhere, it wasn't such a big deal anymore.

But we did have love, and that wasn't lost on me. We laughed a lot, we understood each other - at least outside of the bedroom - and we shared a deep emotional bond. She felt like I'd saved her from a life of servitude to an ungrateful prick, and she'd saved me from eternal loneliness. For a while I was able to focus on the less shallow aspects of our relationship. I was literally getting by on love alone - sex was side note. I convinced myself that I'd rather be happily married and sexually deprived, than the lonely pervert I was.

But after the first couple of years we inevitably found ourselves in a rut, facing the ultimate relationship killer -- boredom. She'd been sober for the most part during those first years, but when she started drinking regularly again, I knew something was wrong. Liquor had been her crutch when she was at her wits end with her last marriage, and I feared history was repeating itself. Likewise, I was back to my porn habit and hiding out in my office to jerk off.

When she was sober she seemed content, albeit less affectionate than before. But when she came home drunk, she had a laundry list of things to bitch about. I was suddenly too boring, we never went anywhere, we never had enough money, I left the toilet seat up, and I was always in that stupid office. I'd return fire with the only weapon I had -- you don't ever fuck me! She'd apologize for everything when she was sober, and so would I, but I knew -- a drunk mouth speaks for a sober heart.

We were on edge for the next two years. Everyday I feared we were nearing the end. I knew that DD feared the same thing, but somewhere along the line we'd lost our ability to communicate with each other so we seldom discussed how things had gone down hill or how to fix them. She was keeping herself sane via her crutch -- liquor, and I was using mine -- pornography.

Falling back into my old habits, I was always searching for the next taboo fetish to get off to when the old ones had ceased to be interesting. I stumbled across one so obvious that I couldn't believe I'd never given it a serious look before - swinging.

There were tons of wife swapping sites on the Internet. At first I watched videos of couples swapping partners. I remembered the feeling of screwing another man's wife and it immediately appealed to me.

When watching other types of pornography I always personalized the fantasy by imagining myself doing those things with my wife. I even dared to think that some day she'd come out of her shell and doing those things would be a real possibility. But swinging was out of the question. My traditional foreign wife on rare occasion showed flashes of willingness to explore new kinks, but she was far too possessive to ever consider such a thing. So when I fantasized about swinging my mind forced me to leave DD out of the fantasy, because it was plainly impossible.