The Cuck
A smug husband watches his wife give him the show he’s been waiting for all year.
Tonight was the night, and everything was set up exactly how I wanted it — cock in hand, candles on the nightstands flanking the bed, some sensual ’90s triphop on the stereo, and black-and-red sheets laid out on the bed. All I had to do now was wait quietly in the closet like the excited spectator I was.
Now, you might be wondering — what the hell is all this? And why am I hiding in the closet of my own home? Well, here’s the thing — I’m a cuck. A huge cuck. But not in the way you’re thinking.
It’s not in the pathetically submissive manner that most think of, where I take pride in watching my wife, Liz, actively neglect me or outright declare her disgust for me as she rides my best friend, Derrick, on my own bed. No, this was different. It was our anniversary today; our fifth one at that. Last year, I allowed her to use her strap-on on me, and now this year was finally my turn. And this time, it was me who was going to dominate her. Contrary to popular belief, cuckoldry is not necessarily a submissive thing. At least not for me. Rather, it’s about me having the moral high ground over her. She lays with practically every man in the neighborhood, and I get to sit back and watch her performance. And tonight, I couldn’t be more smug about it.
Anyway, after about five more minutes of waiting in the stuffy closet, all hot and bothered, and sweaty with anticipation, Liz finally arrived, along with Derrick, my best friend who would be tonight’s boyfriend and tomorrow’s dinner guest with me as we discuss promotions, general office gossip et cetera, et cetera. Oh, if only he knew.
Liz had donned her sapphire blue cocktail dress; a fitting choice for the occasion, since she had just shared drinks with Derrick at the bar earlier before coming here. Not to mention, the color also went great with her wavy, long brown hair, pale-green eyes, and petite, slender figure. Meanwhile, Derrick had decided to go with a simple red flannel shirt and jeans to pair with his chestnut hair, stubbled face, and slightly muscular frame.
When the pair approached our bed, they stood and faced each other, their eyes meeting directly, and their expressions soft and eager toward each other, almost as if they’d already been a couple for years. Their lips then crashed, and as they made out — tongue intertwining with tongue — they tore at each other’s clothes hungrily, grasping at each other as best as they could.
“Fuck,” I whispered. I started stroking myself at the sight of them, my hand pumping up and down, up and down. Meanwhile, once they were both nude, Derrick laid himself on the bed, his own cock stiff and upright at attention.
“Your husband has no idea what he’s missing out on,” he said, laughing loudly.
“Oh, he really has no idea,” Liz replied. She got on all fours and started to suck him off. The sight of this made me stroke even faster, massaging the tip of my cock every now and then with my thumb.
“Yeah. Suck his dick, Liz,” I muttered breathily. Liz made quick work of Derrick as she immediately took his whole length into her throat; she then bobbed her head on him at a nice, steady pace, with drool polishing the tip and shaft of his manhood as her tongue slathered him all around.
“My-fucking-God,” Derrick moaned, writhing under my wife’s skillful mouth.
“Yeah! That’s my wife, fucker!” I whispered again, fighting the urge to shout it. Wanting to feel a similar sensation, I stopped stroking for a moment to lift my hand to my mouth, where I licked my palm to get it nice and wet before returning it to its original job of massaging my cock. Meanwhile, I snaked my other hand down to my balls and started massaging those too. Within seconds, I was reduced to a hungry, panting dog sitting under the dining table begging for scraps as I watched my wife blow my best friend. Once his cock was nice and wet from my wife’s talented mouth, she undid the zipper in the back of her dress and allowed it to slide down her body and onto the ground, revealing her perfect tits and plump ass.
“Get ready for the ride of your life,” she said, her lips curved into a smug smile as an audible smirk escaped from her. Meanwhile, Derrick continued laying on the bed, all spread out and not uttering a single word as he licked his lips in anticipation.
Without any further preamble, Liz mounted the poor bastard and rode him like the sweaty cowgirl she was.
“Holy shit,” Derrick groaned. “It’s so…tight.”
“Glad you like it,” she remarked. Wanting to torture him further, she picked up the pace and rode him even faster, trying her best to milk every last ounce out of his dick.
“Fuck yeah, Liz,” I mumbled in a tone slightly louder than I intended. “Ride him and milk him, you slutty cowgirl.”
“W-What?” asked Derrick. “I think I heard someone, Liz.”
“Oh, just shut up,” Liz moaned before crashing her lips into his once more to silence him. No longer giving a care about the prospect of someone watching him, Derrick slid his hands to Liz’s tits and started gently massaging them while pinching the nipples every so often.
“Oh, you sneaky, sneaky boy,” she groaned in excitement. To counter this, she lowered her lips down to Derrick’s chest and started suckling away at his own nipples.
“What…the…fuck,” he cursed in surprise. Meanwhile, I continued pumping my cock in the hot, stuffy closet, feeling myself twitch closer and closer to cumming.
“Oh, God,” said Derrick. “I’m gonna cum, Liz.”
“Go ahead,” Liz replied, laughing between moans. “Fill me up. I want to be overflowing by the time…argh!” Almost immediately, Derrick came inside Liz, unleashing load after load into her tight cunt. In turn, she, too, came, as did I, long white ropes of my own cum fired off from my cock before landing on either the hardwood floor beneath me or the closet doors I squinted into.
“Fuck,” was all I managed to mutter as I fell against the wall, leaning back and watching the sweaty mess before me, laying on my own bed.
“That…was…good,” said Liz as she fell face-first onto Derrick’s chest from the intensity of her climax. “Not as good as my husband though.” That’s right!
The next morning, I found myself still in the closet when I slowly woke up from the post-orgasmic sleep after last night’s events. When I peered through the closet door, I saw that Derrick had left — or so I thought. I rose from my feet and got out of the closet; a voice called out from behind me.
“Trent?” When I turned around, I saw Derrick, standing in the bathroom doorway with a towel wrapped around his waist from having just had his morning shower.
“Uh, morning, Derrick,” I said. “Nice to see you here.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Listen, this isn’t what you think.”
“It is.” Suddenly, I exploded with laughter at Derrick’s attempt to cover up last night’s tryst with my wife. Meanwhile, a visible blush spread across his face, his mouth opening every now and then to speak, only to close as he faltered on his words.
“Okay, listen, Derrick,” I said, finally calming down from my amusement. “It’s okay. Me and my wife, we organized all this, so it’s fine.” A deep sigh of relief escaped from Derrick, as though releasing a massive amount of nervous tension.
“Oh, thank God,” he responded.
“She was good, wasn’t she?” I asked, wanting to press his buttons more.
“Yeah. Yeah, she was,” Derrick said, still all embarrassed and blushing red in the face.
Deciding to show him mercy, I changed the subject and asked, “You want some coffee? Maybe breakfast?”
“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks.” I nodded in response and headed downstairs to the kitchen, where Liz was making scrambled eggs. Approaching her, I leaned down behind her and trailed kisses down her neck.
“Good…morning…honey,” I said between kisses, her skin tingling from the warmth of my breath.
“Good morning to you too,” she responded. “You liked that little show I put on for you last night?”
“You know it,” I remarked. “Happy anniversary, honey.”
“Right back at ya, babe,” she said, laughing under her breath.
After breakfast, I escorted Derrick out the door. And as I did so, I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “You know…if you want a next time…”
“I’ll keep that in mind, Trent. Thanks.” With that, Derrick walked over to his car and drove off, slowly disappearing into the horizon as the sun rose, its silvery rays penetrating the morning overcast. You’re welcome, buddy.
“Babe!” my wife called out.
“Yes!”
“Could you come here for a sec?” When I returned to the kitchen, I saw my wife there, only now, her legs were now spread wide open as she sat on the dining table, with no panties underneath her pink robe.
“Ready for dessert?”
