24-12-2018, 01:05 PM
"Cuckold: A cuckold husband is complicit in his wife's sexual "infidelity" and takes sexual pleasure in it. Cuckolds need not be married, although some level of pair-bonding intimacy or commitment in their relationship is necessary to effectuate the fetish and achieve sexual tension and enjoyment."
"Cuckolding can have a wide range of expression, from pillow-talk fantasy between monogamous partners to extreme "alternative lifestyles" such as voyeurism and wife sharing and even impregnation by a "bull" (i.e., the wife's lover), depending on the couple."
"In Freudian analysis, cuckold fetishism is the eroticization of (i) the husband's fears of his wife's infidelity, (ii) the husband's inability to sexually satisfy his wife, or (iii) the husband's fears he will lose his wife's affections and love to a "real man." For many, cuckold fetishism extends to the husband's fear his wife will chose to procreate with this "real man." For these reasons, it is often the case that cuckolds are men who have smaller than average penises or suffer from another sexual deficiency, such as premature ejaculation or infertility."
In extreme cuckold relationships, the wife may deny her cuckold husband penetration sex, reserving intercourse for her lovers. The wife may also separate from her cuckold husband for some period of time to become the full time "girlfriend" or "wife" of a favorite lover. Of course, if that separation leads to actual divorce the cuckold fantasy has failed, at least from the point of view of the cuckold husband (although it is not unusual for the cuckold husband to fantasize about his wife leaving him permanently for a "real man"). For that reason, it is recommended the cuckold husband and his wife agree on boundaries and rules before exploring this extreme manifestation of the fetish.
"The role of jealousy and humiliation in the cuckold fetishism cannot be overstated. Psychologist Evelin Lindner calls the two "the nuclear bombs of emotions." Because jealousy and humiliation are such powerful emotions, if they are sexualized, they can evoke intense sexual feelings and desire in the cuckold husband."
"Is that Mike?" Drums asked again tapping his finger on the definition of "cuckold."
"Maybe ... I don't know," she said, handing the book back to him.
Drums bought the book and put it in his pocket.
Afterwards they went to an Irish pub for a drink. "I don't get it, you got pissed at me last night but everything I did fits Mike's fantasy," he said holding up the dictionary.
"I know Mike better than you Frankie," Jen said. "I know where the line is. Trust me on this one."
"Okay, okay," he said holding out his hands in surrender. "So you guys have history. How long have you been swinging?"
"We call it our game," Jen said. "You know Ricky right? What did he tell you?"
"Not that much," he said. "Rumors mostly, about you and him."
"They've been a few guys since then," Jen said with a shrug.
"So I understand what you get out of your game, you get to be with guys like me," he said with an arrogant grin.
"Yeah, whatever," Jen said with a laugh, rolling her eyes.
"What does Mike get out of it?"
After a moment, Jen said with another laugh, "He gets to see me with guys like you."
"So you fuck around but Mike doesn't? Doesn't seem fair."
Jen shrugged. She didn't say anything but she thought, "That's why I'm with Mike and not you."
Drums sensed her sudden coldness. He said "Let's stop talking about this."
"Good idea," Jen said with a laugh. "Let's talk about you. No girlfriend?"
"You're my sorta girlfriend," he joked.
"You know what I mean," she said with a laugh. "I don't remember you ever with anyone in college."
"I think girls figure me out pretty fast," he said with a humorless self-conscious smile. "Fun party guy, good in bed, but not serious husband material."
"You can't party forever Frankie," Jen said.
"Why not?" he said with a laugh.
"Well, for one you're going to kill yourself," Jen said. "For another ... I mean, you said you get lonely sometimes right?"
He looked out the window, embarrassed. It was hard spilling his guts. "I'd like a real girlfriend, a wife someday," he admitted. "But this is all I know. I'm not like Mike, girls don't take me seriously."
Jen squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging smile. "Maybe you need to take yourself seriously, then other people will too."
After their drink they took another taxi then walked up Broadway. They got to Central Park and Jen said "God my feet are killing me." She was wearing high heels.
"Let's take one of these carriages," Drums suggested. They boarded one of the horse drawn carriages and he guided them through Central Park.
"Here, let me help you with those sexy feet of yours," Drums said smiling.
"Okay," Jen said with a laugh, putting her feet in his lap. "Oh, you're good at that," she purred as he rubbed her feet.
"I've got a lot of experience rubbing girls' feet," he said proudly.
"I bet," Jen said with another laugh.
"What, you think I'm a player? I'm not, really."
"I'm not judging you Frankie," Jen said playfully nudging his thigh with her toe. "I like you. That's why I'm with you. Other girls would like you too, if you opened up to them."
"I guess I don't know how to be a real boyfriend," he admitted.
"Well then, you can practice with me," Jen said giving him a reassuring smile.
They were silent for a moment, smiling into the other's eyes. Then he playfully tickled the bottom of her feet.
"Stop," she whined, pulling her feet away.
"You're ticklish huh?" he said grinning.
She glanced at the driver, then whispered to Drums "It turns me on."
"It does huh?" he said grinning. With one hand he held her ankle. With the other he lightly ran his fingertips up and down the bottom of her foot.
"Stop," Jen whined, an embarrassed smile on her face.
Then Frankie lightly caressed the top of her foot and her ankle.
"God Frankie," she whispered, again glancing at the driver to make sure he wasn't listening. "You're gonna make me wet."
"Let's go back to my hotel room," Frankie suggested eagerly.
"We can't, we're meeting Mike for dinner," she said. Thinking of Mike she looked at her watch. It was almost 730! "Oops, we better call him."
"Hi baby," she said on the phone. "Yeah, we had fun. We're in Central Park now. No, we're in one of those horse buggies. Yeah, it's fun. Frankie's rubbing my feet. <> Are you still working? Oh, you're so good. Wanna get dinner? Oh okay that's a good idea. Okay, see you then."
"So where we going?" Drums asked, lightly stroking Jen's feet and ankles with his fingertips.
"Bar Americain, it's not too far from here," Jen said. She giggled and pulled her sensitive feet away from him. "Will you stop!" She laughed. "Where are my heels?"
"Let's ride there," Drums suggested. He said to the driver, "Can you take us to Bar Americain?"
"I didn't know they were allowed to ride this far from Central Park!" she laughed as they rode in the horse carriage down 7th Avenue.
"Give me have your feet, I'll rub them more," he said giving her a lustful grin.
"I'm fine thank you," Jen said with another laugh. She grabbed her heels and slipped them on.
"Have I told you how hot you look?" Drums said moving closer and putting his arm around her. With the high heels she wore skinny jeans and a black bustier that tied down the back. Over the bustier she wore a short leather jacket.
"Come on Frankie, be good," she said moving out of his grasp. "Someone could see."
"Just one kiss, you owe me after I rubbed your feet," he said. "Come on, before we get to the restaurant."
"No Frankie."
"Come on, one kiss, no one will see," he said, putting his arm around her again. Without waiting for a reply he leaned in and kissed her.
Against her better judgment, she let him kiss her. His foot massage had turned her on – her feet and ankles WERE really sensitive if touched the right way – and he could really kiss, his lips really soft, using just the right amount of tongue.
They arrived at Bar Americain. The driver turned to them but they didn't noticed as they continued to seriously make out.
Jen's black bustier was made of a stretchy material, kind of like a tube top (but it laced up the back like a classic bustier). She wasn't wearing a bra underneath, so the stretchy material molded around her small shapely breasts.
Unable to resist, Drums reached into her jacket and cupped her breast over the bustier. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed her nipple between his thumb and finger. Forgetting where they were – or maybe not caring – Drums pulled down the bustier exposing her breasts, fondling her.
"Frankie god stop!" Jen said feeling the night air on her suddenly exposed breasts. She pushed him away and quickly pulling up her top. She blushed seeing the driver (an old scruffy Middle Eastern man) lustfully ogling her.
"God Frankie," she sighed getting out of the carriage. He grinned at her. She scowled at him, but then they both burst out laughing at how crazy they'd acted. Drums put his arm around her and she leaned into her, smiling at each other.
They moved towards the revolving door of Bar Americain, still laughing, Drums's arm around her. Then Jen stopped in her tracks, almost running into people. "Oh hi," she said, her heart sinking.
Mike arrived about 15 minutes later. He looked around and saw the pretty face of his wife. He frowned. Drums sat with her, but there were other people at the table too. Then he recognized them, their neighbors Jeremy and Alicia and Noah and Ella.
Jen jumped up and hugged Mike as soon as she saw him. "They saw us," Jen whispered into his ear, referring to their neighbors.
"How much did they see?"
"I'm not sure," Jen whispered. "Too much."
Dinner was awkward, no one knowing what to say. It was finally over. The other 2 couples shared a taxi home, no doubt gossiping gleefully as soon as they hit the road.
"God I need another drink," Jen groaned and the 3 of them went into a bar. They sat in a booth and Jen leaned into Mike. He hugged her. "It's okay honey, they don't know anything," he said consolingly, repeating a phrase she'd used in the past.
"Cuckolding can have a wide range of expression, from pillow-talk fantasy between monogamous partners to extreme "alternative lifestyles" such as voyeurism and wife sharing and even impregnation by a "bull" (i.e., the wife's lover), depending on the couple."
"In Freudian analysis, cuckold fetishism is the eroticization of (i) the husband's fears of his wife's infidelity, (ii) the husband's inability to sexually satisfy his wife, or (iii) the husband's fears he will lose his wife's affections and love to a "real man." For many, cuckold fetishism extends to the husband's fear his wife will chose to procreate with this "real man." For these reasons, it is often the case that cuckolds are men who have smaller than average penises or suffer from another sexual deficiency, such as premature ejaculation or infertility."
In extreme cuckold relationships, the wife may deny her cuckold husband penetration sex, reserving intercourse for her lovers. The wife may also separate from her cuckold husband for some period of time to become the full time "girlfriend" or "wife" of a favorite lover. Of course, if that separation leads to actual divorce the cuckold fantasy has failed, at least from the point of view of the cuckold husband (although it is not unusual for the cuckold husband to fantasize about his wife leaving him permanently for a "real man"). For that reason, it is recommended the cuckold husband and his wife agree on boundaries and rules before exploring this extreme manifestation of the fetish.
"The role of jealousy and humiliation in the cuckold fetishism cannot be overstated. Psychologist Evelin Lindner calls the two "the nuclear bombs of emotions." Because jealousy and humiliation are such powerful emotions, if they are sexualized, they can evoke intense sexual feelings and desire in the cuckold husband."
"Is that Mike?" Drums asked again tapping his finger on the definition of "cuckold."
"Maybe ... I don't know," she said, handing the book back to him.
Drums bought the book and put it in his pocket.
Afterwards they went to an Irish pub for a drink. "I don't get it, you got pissed at me last night but everything I did fits Mike's fantasy," he said holding up the dictionary.
"I know Mike better than you Frankie," Jen said. "I know where the line is. Trust me on this one."
"Okay, okay," he said holding out his hands in surrender. "So you guys have history. How long have you been swinging?"
"We call it our game," Jen said. "You know Ricky right? What did he tell you?"
"Not that much," he said. "Rumors mostly, about you and him."
"They've been a few guys since then," Jen said with a shrug.
"So I understand what you get out of your game, you get to be with guys like me," he said with an arrogant grin.
"Yeah, whatever," Jen said with a laugh, rolling her eyes.
"What does Mike get out of it?"
After a moment, Jen said with another laugh, "He gets to see me with guys like you."
"So you fuck around but Mike doesn't? Doesn't seem fair."
Jen shrugged. She didn't say anything but she thought, "That's why I'm with Mike and not you."
Drums sensed her sudden coldness. He said "Let's stop talking about this."
"Good idea," Jen said with a laugh. "Let's talk about you. No girlfriend?"
"You're my sorta girlfriend," he joked.
"You know what I mean," she said with a laugh. "I don't remember you ever with anyone in college."
"I think girls figure me out pretty fast," he said with a humorless self-conscious smile. "Fun party guy, good in bed, but not serious husband material."
"You can't party forever Frankie," Jen said.
"Why not?" he said with a laugh.
"Well, for one you're going to kill yourself," Jen said. "For another ... I mean, you said you get lonely sometimes right?"
He looked out the window, embarrassed. It was hard spilling his guts. "I'd like a real girlfriend, a wife someday," he admitted. "But this is all I know. I'm not like Mike, girls don't take me seriously."
Jen squeezed his hand and gave him an encouraging smile. "Maybe you need to take yourself seriously, then other people will too."
After their drink they took another taxi then walked up Broadway. They got to Central Park and Jen said "God my feet are killing me." She was wearing high heels.
"Let's take one of these carriages," Drums suggested. They boarded one of the horse drawn carriages and he guided them through Central Park.
"Here, let me help you with those sexy feet of yours," Drums said smiling.
"Okay," Jen said with a laugh, putting her feet in his lap. "Oh, you're good at that," she purred as he rubbed her feet.
"I've got a lot of experience rubbing girls' feet," he said proudly.
"I bet," Jen said with another laugh.
"What, you think I'm a player? I'm not, really."
"I'm not judging you Frankie," Jen said playfully nudging his thigh with her toe. "I like you. That's why I'm with you. Other girls would like you too, if you opened up to them."
"I guess I don't know how to be a real boyfriend," he admitted.
"Well then, you can practice with me," Jen said giving him a reassuring smile.
They were silent for a moment, smiling into the other's eyes. Then he playfully tickled the bottom of her feet.
"Stop," she whined, pulling her feet away.
"You're ticklish huh?" he said grinning.
She glanced at the driver, then whispered to Drums "It turns me on."
"It does huh?" he said grinning. With one hand he held her ankle. With the other he lightly ran his fingertips up and down the bottom of her foot.
"Stop," Jen whined, an embarrassed smile on her face.
Then Frankie lightly caressed the top of her foot and her ankle.
"God Frankie," she whispered, again glancing at the driver to make sure he wasn't listening. "You're gonna make me wet."
"Let's go back to my hotel room," Frankie suggested eagerly.
"We can't, we're meeting Mike for dinner," she said. Thinking of Mike she looked at her watch. It was almost 730! "Oops, we better call him."
"Hi baby," she said on the phone. "Yeah, we had fun. We're in Central Park now. No, we're in one of those horse buggies. Yeah, it's fun. Frankie's rubbing my feet. <> Are you still working? Oh, you're so good. Wanna get dinner? Oh okay that's a good idea. Okay, see you then."
"So where we going?" Drums asked, lightly stroking Jen's feet and ankles with his fingertips.
"Bar Americain, it's not too far from here," Jen said. She giggled and pulled her sensitive feet away from him. "Will you stop!" She laughed. "Where are my heels?"
"Let's ride there," Drums suggested. He said to the driver, "Can you take us to Bar Americain?"
"I didn't know they were allowed to ride this far from Central Park!" she laughed as they rode in the horse carriage down 7th Avenue.
"Give me have your feet, I'll rub them more," he said giving her a lustful grin.
"I'm fine thank you," Jen said with another laugh. She grabbed her heels and slipped them on.
"Have I told you how hot you look?" Drums said moving closer and putting his arm around her. With the high heels she wore skinny jeans and a black bustier that tied down the back. Over the bustier she wore a short leather jacket.
"Come on Frankie, be good," she said moving out of his grasp. "Someone could see."
"Just one kiss, you owe me after I rubbed your feet," he said. "Come on, before we get to the restaurant."
"No Frankie."
"Come on, one kiss, no one will see," he said, putting his arm around her again. Without waiting for a reply he leaned in and kissed her.
Against her better judgment, she let him kiss her. His foot massage had turned her on – her feet and ankles WERE really sensitive if touched the right way – and he could really kiss, his lips really soft, using just the right amount of tongue.
They arrived at Bar Americain. The driver turned to them but they didn't noticed as they continued to seriously make out.
Jen's black bustier was made of a stretchy material, kind of like a tube top (but it laced up the back like a classic bustier). She wasn't wearing a bra underneath, so the stretchy material molded around her small shapely breasts.
Unable to resist, Drums reached into her jacket and cupped her breast over the bustier. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed her nipple between his thumb and finger. Forgetting where they were – or maybe not caring – Drums pulled down the bustier exposing her breasts, fondling her.
"Frankie god stop!" Jen said feeling the night air on her suddenly exposed breasts. She pushed him away and quickly pulling up her top. She blushed seeing the driver (an old scruffy Middle Eastern man) lustfully ogling her.
"God Frankie," she sighed getting out of the carriage. He grinned at her. She scowled at him, but then they both burst out laughing at how crazy they'd acted. Drums put his arm around her and she leaned into her, smiling at each other.
They moved towards the revolving door of Bar Americain, still laughing, Drums's arm around her. Then Jen stopped in her tracks, almost running into people. "Oh hi," she said, her heart sinking.
Mike arrived about 15 minutes later. He looked around and saw the pretty face of his wife. He frowned. Drums sat with her, but there were other people at the table too. Then he recognized them, their neighbors Jeremy and Alicia and Noah and Ella.
Jen jumped up and hugged Mike as soon as she saw him. "They saw us," Jen whispered into his ear, referring to their neighbors.
"How much did they see?"
"I'm not sure," Jen whispered. "Too much."
Dinner was awkward, no one knowing what to say. It was finally over. The other 2 couples shared a taxi home, no doubt gossiping gleefully as soon as they hit the road.
"God I need another drink," Jen groaned and the 3 of them went into a bar. They sat in a booth and Jen leaned into Mike. He hugged her. "It's okay honey, they don't know anything," he said consolingly, repeating a phrase she'd used in the past.
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