09-05-2019, 02:10 PM
[i]A CUCKOLD'S TALE
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[i]
I was shaking outside of room 217. I'd been standing there for almost five minutes and still hadn't knocked. It wasn't too late to turn around.
But who was I kidding? I'd come this far because my obsession ruled me. I had no power over it but for the palm of my own hand. I could have rubbed one out on my own and gotten enough mental clarity to avoid being here. But that was only delaying the inevitable. Bearing the burden of my all-consuming fantasy alone was wearing me down. I needed to share it.
I knocked. A tall, fortyish man with slightly graying black hair opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. I thought he somewhat favored Sunny deol.
"I was wondering how long you were going to stand out there before you knocked," Anghsu spoke with a slight southern accent, standing aside as he held the door.
"Put yourself in my shoes," I said, cautiously stepping into the room.
"Oh, I understand you very well. That's why I let you stand out there and go through your process. I'm a patient man when I choose to be."
The room was small and had a peculiar smell to it. The queen-sized bed looked slept in. The floral print comforter was in a heap on the floor. A half empty bottle of MacDowell sat atop the dresser. The room was tidy aside from that. Not a total dive, but nothing special.
"Excuse the condition of the room. I had a small party in here earlier and I've only just started cleaning up from it," He said, strolling in to the tiny bathroom and dispensing some deodorant under his arms. "A party, huh?" I stood near the entrance of the room. "A couple of friends of mine, and another man's wife," He said, plainly looking at me in the mirror.
"I see," I nodded. "Ohhhhh," I belatedly realized what he meant.
"Tall, late twenties, a mother of two and nice lactating breasts. Fucked her in every orifice with her husband on speaker phone," Anghsu stated matter-of-factly, grinning. "Sounds like fun," I answered, fidgeting with my hands, aimlessly looking around the room.
"You knew that about me, I presume," He asked, coming out of the bathroom and walking to the dresser. "That you had a party?" "That I fuck other men's wives for sport." "You're a bull?" "That term annoys me, but use it if you like," Anghsu poured some MacDowell into two plastic cups. "Actually, I didn't. I mean, I wasn't sure. In your stories you always write from the cuckold's perspective. But then when we started chatting you always did seem kind of...I don't know...aggressive?"
"I like writing as if the shoe were on the other foot. I find the dynamics of the submissive mind, fascinating. I'm particularly intrigued by those of you who have such a self-deluded image that you lack self-value to the point of actually favoring minimal sexual gratification, pain even, emotional and physical. I try, and if I do say so myself, succeed very well in conveying that type of psycho-sexual dysfunction in my stories because I've gained what I think is a very unique perspective on the situation."
I scratched my head trying to figure out if he had just insulted me or not. Trying not to sound ignorant, I addressed the part that I did understand. "I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a submissive." Anghsu chuckled. "I would," he said, handing me a cup of MacDowell. "Here, this will loosen you up a bit."
"Got me all figured out, huh?"
"I'd say so," He said, arrogantly. "I've encountered all types in this lifestyle. Some men are just victims of cold, selfish, calculating women and don't have the backbone to stand up for themselves. Others simply devalue their women so greatly that they long to see them used and humiliated, but also lack the backbone to do it themselves, detaching themselves from the act by putting it in another mans hands so they can hold on to their delusions of being a loving husband."
"Shit, what are you, the professor of cuckolding or something?" I wondered if he could sense the complex he was giving me. "So which one do you think I am?"
"Neither," he smiled. "Which is why I'm particularly interested in you. You convey the type of emotion and feelings that usually have to be absent to practice cuckoldry. I believe you actually do love and value your wife. And SUMITA doesn't seem to be the manipulative type either, even though she is a whore."
Hearing him call my wife a whore sent a chill down my spine and rush of blood to my dick.
Somehow the effect was greater hearing it said out loud than seeing him type it on a screen. I quickly slammed the half-full cup MacDowell .
"See what I mean," he cackled. "You get uncomfortable at the suggestion of your wife being anything but an angel, yet it excites you so much. I love it."
"So what am I, some sort of science project to you?"
"A lab rat of sorts," Anghsu laughed.
My expression got dark. "I'm kidding! Lighten up!" He said, pouring me another cup of MacDowell . "Sit down and relax for crying out loud! Get comfortable! I know you are tensed, but you're in good company." "The room is fine," I shrugged, sitting at the edge of the bed, "I just get a little awkward meeting new people."
It's the kind of room I'd fuck your slut, Bengali wife in."
As I instantly converted his words into a mental picture, my cock stiffened. "I suppose," I replied meekly.
Part of me felt obligated to sock him in the mouth for that remark. I had to remember the context in which we'd met. Spoken words verses written words. This was far more real now, and I was still adjusting.
Besides that, Anghsu was an imposing physical figure. I wasn't so sure I could take him anyway. "So like I was saying," Anghsu sat beside me on the bed. "I've taken quite an interest in you and your wife, as you know."
"Because I'm supposedly different than the other husbands you've dealt with?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. For one I think it would be fascinating to see how you react to the realization of your fantasy. And for another, I have to tell you, I really loathe most of the men whom I've cuckolded. A lot of their wives too. It was easy for me to use and humiliate them because of that. I'm sure you can imagine, the lack of respect I had for their marriages made me excellent at it. They were role-playing. I wasn't." Anghsu's gaze drifted towards the window as he took a long swig of the liquor. "What are you saying, Anghsu? You want to..."
"To make you the cuckold you've always wanted to be," he finished my sentence. "It'll be a
challenge for me, because honestly, I actually like you." He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "But in spite of that, I fully intend to use your wife like I have every other whore I've encountered, and I will treat you the same as I've treated their husbands. I won't deny you the full experience, I promise."
"Um...look, that's flattering, I guess. But like I've been telling you, I don't think I
could actually go through with it," I said, finishing another glass of MacDowell .
"Well, that's the beauty of this lifestyle, you don't necessarily have to go through with anything. You simply remain passive, if not submissive, and let it happen like all sissy husbands do. Let me take control," Anghsu looked me directly in the eyes.
Did he just imply that I was a sissy? I wondered. "Anghsu, I don't know. I'm playing with fire here," I shook my head.
"That's part of the thrill," he smiled. "And the way I see it, it's inevitable that it will
happen. You're fighting a losing battle with your demons. And your wife craves a real man to fuck her. Wouldn't you rather put it in the hands of someone who won't completely try to destroy your marriage? Believe me, if she's allowed to stray with a man who doesn't understand this lifestyle he will ultimately seek to posses your woman. I merely want to use her." I stood up, went to the dresser, poured some more MacDowell and promptly downed it. "You make it sound like I'm going to lose her if I don't do this." "You have to admit, it's a real possibility, all things considered. You have no idea." I sighed deeply, and faintly nodded as I fell back onto the bed. "But what makes you so sure that this will be the solution? What makes you think she'd even be a part of anything like this? As much as I fantasize about her cheating, it would kill me. "I'd have to be involved, you know? I have to be a willing participant, and she has to know that I am. None of that hiding in closets bullshit and letting her think I don't know. And I don't see how I could get myself to explain to her, how I could be ok with that. I wouldn't even know where to start."
Anghsu grinned, knowingly. "It's the solution because unlike her previous husband, she knows she has a man who loves her, and she loves you back. But she also seeks to fulfill the part of her that's still wanting. If she truly believes she can have her cake and eat it too, by keeping your love and getting well fucked by another, why would she refuse? The rest, you just leave that to me. When the time comes, she'll be posing the question to you, not the other way around. I can make sure of that. I'm a master at this."
For the first time ever I found myself seriously contempla ting my fantasy becoming a reality. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest and land in Anghsu's lap. "And you...you really think you can do this? I mean, I don't even know if you're her type, no offense."
"My friend, I'm already half way there."
"What do you mean?"
"I told you I have something to show you. Brace yourself." Anghsu leaned over and grabbed a laptop computer from the nightstand and set it in his lap. He opened it and began clicking and typing. "About that little fantasy story I was telling you earlier."
"The one you still haven't finished? You really had me going, I wish you wouldn't have stopped."
"Sorry, but I'm going to leave the ending up to your imagination. You'll have more fun with it that way. What I wanted to say was, what if I told you that story wasn't a fantasy?"
My heart skipped a beat. He had to be fucking with me. "I'd say you were bullshitting me."
"Well, I am a fiction writer, and so I do take some liberties," Anghsu turned his head and looked at me squarely, "But I can guarantee you that at least some of what I told you actually did happen today."
My lower jaw hung open involuntarily. I didn't know what to say. "H...how?" was all I could muster. Part of me didn't believe him. Part of me wanted to. All of me was numb.
He turned the laptop screen towards me and set it in my lap. "Feel free to scan through these at your leisure."
I was looking at Anghsu's email inbox. I first noticed one of the messages I'd sent him.
Then I noticed several messages from a familiar e-mail address...it was my wife's. My glance immediately shot in his direction.
Anghsu was smiling. "SUMITA and I have been chatting for a while."
I frantically opened the most recent e-mail, titled - Re; Feeling naughty today? The first thing I saw was a picture of SUMITA standing in what appeared to be a bathroom. I could tell it was a self-shot cell phone pic. She was holding her red sari and the blouse underneath open, exposing her bra-clad breasts, and her petticoat pants rolled up to her waste, showing off her panties. Her underwear was purple, like he'd said. The message was short and sweet – 'Always feeling naughty for you'. My hands were shaking so badly it was difficult to open the next one. I couldn't speak, or even look at Anghsu.
The next one was from two days earlier and had no picture, only text. 'Yeah, I hear what you're saying. It was fun though. My emotions are all over the place these days. I'm happy though, mostly.' It was far too vague for me to understand the nature or the meaning of the message.
The next one contained another low quality cell phone picture. It appeared to be in our kitchen. SUMITA was holding the cell phone out in front of her, only her upper half was visible, and she had on only a bra. Her mouth was opened wide and she was pushing a cucumber into it. The text was short, and read like an inside joke - 'Stretch! LOL' I continued rummaging through his e-mail. Many of them were only text and most were short. My wife was discussing her emotions, her moods, and our relationship, explaining things her and I had done, and conversations we'd had. Some of them discussed her job and co-workers, most I knew, and some I didn't. All of the messages were about as vague as the first one I'd read and left me little to go on as far as figuring out what the nature of her involvement with Anghsu was. A few of them had pictures attached. A couple of them were innocent enough, fully clothed, smiling. One had both of us in it, I remembered the night we took it. The majority of them though, had her in various stages of undress in a provocative pose. I hadn't found any of them with nudity.
Most of what I read was pretty tame. But a few things concerned me more than others. There was one picture of her lying on a bed, one that wasn't ours, wearing only panties, a see through typel, and her legs spread wide. Given the distance and angle I knew she couldn't have snapped it herself with a cell phone. Had Anghsu taken that picture?
I was also bothered by a name that kept popping up a lot, Nikhil. I had no idea who that was, and nothing in particular was said that bothered me, just that she mentioned him so much. The main thing that bothered me was a passage of text in one of the messages that read –
'After we made love tonight, I went into the bathroom and cried. I was at my wits end. I finally had to accept the fact that I can never have an orgasm with the man I love. No matter how he tries, he will never satisfy me.'
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(To Be Continued)
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[i]
I was shaking outside of room 217. I'd been standing there for almost five minutes and still hadn't knocked. It wasn't too late to turn around.
But who was I kidding? I'd come this far because my obsession ruled me. I had no power over it but for the palm of my own hand. I could have rubbed one out on my own and gotten enough mental clarity to avoid being here. But that was only delaying the inevitable. Bearing the burden of my all-consuming fantasy alone was wearing me down. I needed to share it.
I knocked. A tall, fortyish man with slightly graying black hair opened the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. I thought he somewhat favored Sunny deol.
"I was wondering how long you were going to stand out there before you knocked," Anghsu spoke with a slight southern accent, standing aside as he held the door.
"Put yourself in my shoes," I said, cautiously stepping into the room.
"Oh, I understand you very well. That's why I let you stand out there and go through your process. I'm a patient man when I choose to be."
The room was small and had a peculiar smell to it. The queen-sized bed looked slept in. The floral print comforter was in a heap on the floor. A half empty bottle of MacDowell sat atop the dresser. The room was tidy aside from that. Not a total dive, but nothing special.
"Excuse the condition of the room. I had a small party in here earlier and I've only just started cleaning up from it," He said, strolling in to the tiny bathroom and dispensing some deodorant under his arms. "A party, huh?" I stood near the entrance of the room. "A couple of friends of mine, and another man's wife," He said, plainly looking at me in the mirror.
"I see," I nodded. "Ohhhhh," I belatedly realized what he meant.
"Tall, late twenties, a mother of two and nice lactating breasts. Fucked her in every orifice with her husband on speaker phone," Anghsu stated matter-of-factly, grinning. "Sounds like fun," I answered, fidgeting with my hands, aimlessly looking around the room.
"You knew that about me, I presume," He asked, coming out of the bathroom and walking to the dresser. "That you had a party?" "That I fuck other men's wives for sport." "You're a bull?" "That term annoys me, but use it if you like," Anghsu poured some MacDowell into two plastic cups. "Actually, I didn't. I mean, I wasn't sure. In your stories you always write from the cuckold's perspective. But then when we started chatting you always did seem kind of...I don't know...aggressive?"
"I like writing as if the shoe were on the other foot. I find the dynamics of the submissive mind, fascinating. I'm particularly intrigued by those of you who have such a self-deluded image that you lack self-value to the point of actually favoring minimal sexual gratification, pain even, emotional and physical. I try, and if I do say so myself, succeed very well in conveying that type of psycho-sexual dysfunction in my stories because I've gained what I think is a very unique perspective on the situation."
I scratched my head trying to figure out if he had just insulted me or not. Trying not to sound ignorant, I addressed the part that I did understand. "I wouldn't necessarily say I'm a submissive." Anghsu chuckled. "I would," he said, handing me a cup of MacDowell. "Here, this will loosen you up a bit."
"Got me all figured out, huh?"
"I'd say so," He said, arrogantly. "I've encountered all types in this lifestyle. Some men are just victims of cold, selfish, calculating women and don't have the backbone to stand up for themselves. Others simply devalue their women so greatly that they long to see them used and humiliated, but also lack the backbone to do it themselves, detaching themselves from the act by putting it in another mans hands so they can hold on to their delusions of being a loving husband."
"Shit, what are you, the professor of cuckolding or something?" I wondered if he could sense the complex he was giving me. "So which one do you think I am?"
"Neither," he smiled. "Which is why I'm particularly interested in you. You convey the type of emotion and feelings that usually have to be absent to practice cuckoldry. I believe you actually do love and value your wife. And SUMITA doesn't seem to be the manipulative type either, even though she is a whore."
Hearing him call my wife a whore sent a chill down my spine and rush of blood to my dick.
Somehow the effect was greater hearing it said out loud than seeing him type it on a screen. I quickly slammed the half-full cup MacDowell .
"See what I mean," he cackled. "You get uncomfortable at the suggestion of your wife being anything but an angel, yet it excites you so much. I love it."
"So what am I, some sort of science project to you?"
"A lab rat of sorts," Anghsu laughed.
My expression got dark. "I'm kidding! Lighten up!" He said, pouring me another cup of MacDowell . "Sit down and relax for crying out loud! Get comfortable! I know you are tensed, but you're in good company." "The room is fine," I shrugged, sitting at the edge of the bed, "I just get a little awkward meeting new people."
It's the kind of room I'd fuck your slut, Bengali wife in."
As I instantly converted his words into a mental picture, my cock stiffened. "I suppose," I replied meekly.
Part of me felt obligated to sock him in the mouth for that remark. I had to remember the context in which we'd met. Spoken words verses written words. This was far more real now, and I was still adjusting.
Besides that, Anghsu was an imposing physical figure. I wasn't so sure I could take him anyway. "So like I was saying," Anghsu sat beside me on the bed. "I've taken quite an interest in you and your wife, as you know."
"Because I'm supposedly different than the other husbands you've dealt with?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. For one I think it would be fascinating to see how you react to the realization of your fantasy. And for another, I have to tell you, I really loathe most of the men whom I've cuckolded. A lot of their wives too. It was easy for me to use and humiliate them because of that. I'm sure you can imagine, the lack of respect I had for their marriages made me excellent at it. They were role-playing. I wasn't." Anghsu's gaze drifted towards the window as he took a long swig of the liquor. "What are you saying, Anghsu? You want to..."
"To make you the cuckold you've always wanted to be," he finished my sentence. "It'll be a
challenge for me, because honestly, I actually like you." He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "But in spite of that, I fully intend to use your wife like I have every other whore I've encountered, and I will treat you the same as I've treated their husbands. I won't deny you the full experience, I promise."
"Um...look, that's flattering, I guess. But like I've been telling you, I don't think I
could actually go through with it," I said, finishing another glass of MacDowell .
"Well, that's the beauty of this lifestyle, you don't necessarily have to go through with anything. You simply remain passive, if not submissive, and let it happen like all sissy husbands do. Let me take control," Anghsu looked me directly in the eyes.
Did he just imply that I was a sissy? I wondered. "Anghsu, I don't know. I'm playing with fire here," I shook my head.
"That's part of the thrill," he smiled. "And the way I see it, it's inevitable that it will
happen. You're fighting a losing battle with your demons. And your wife craves a real man to fuck her. Wouldn't you rather put it in the hands of someone who won't completely try to destroy your marriage? Believe me, if she's allowed to stray with a man who doesn't understand this lifestyle he will ultimately seek to posses your woman. I merely want to use her." I stood up, went to the dresser, poured some more MacDowell and promptly downed it. "You make it sound like I'm going to lose her if I don't do this." "You have to admit, it's a real possibility, all things considered. You have no idea." I sighed deeply, and faintly nodded as I fell back onto the bed. "But what makes you so sure that this will be the solution? What makes you think she'd even be a part of anything like this? As much as I fantasize about her cheating, it would kill me. "I'd have to be involved, you know? I have to be a willing participant, and she has to know that I am. None of that hiding in closets bullshit and letting her think I don't know. And I don't see how I could get myself to explain to her, how I could be ok with that. I wouldn't even know where to start."
Anghsu grinned, knowingly. "It's the solution because unlike her previous husband, she knows she has a man who loves her, and she loves you back. But she also seeks to fulfill the part of her that's still wanting. If she truly believes she can have her cake and eat it too, by keeping your love and getting well fucked by another, why would she refuse? The rest, you just leave that to me. When the time comes, she'll be posing the question to you, not the other way around. I can make sure of that. I'm a master at this."
For the first time ever I found myself seriously contempla ting my fantasy becoming a reality. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest and land in Anghsu's lap. "And you...you really think you can do this? I mean, I don't even know if you're her type, no offense."
"My friend, I'm already half way there."
"What do you mean?"
"I told you I have something to show you. Brace yourself." Anghsu leaned over and grabbed a laptop computer from the nightstand and set it in his lap. He opened it and began clicking and typing. "About that little fantasy story I was telling you earlier."
"The one you still haven't finished? You really had me going, I wish you wouldn't have stopped."
"Sorry, but I'm going to leave the ending up to your imagination. You'll have more fun with it that way. What I wanted to say was, what if I told you that story wasn't a fantasy?"
My heart skipped a beat. He had to be fucking with me. "I'd say you were bullshitting me."
"Well, I am a fiction writer, and so I do take some liberties," Anghsu turned his head and looked at me squarely, "But I can guarantee you that at least some of what I told you actually did happen today."
My lower jaw hung open involuntarily. I didn't know what to say. "H...how?" was all I could muster. Part of me didn't believe him. Part of me wanted to. All of me was numb.
He turned the laptop screen towards me and set it in my lap. "Feel free to scan through these at your leisure."
I was looking at Anghsu's email inbox. I first noticed one of the messages I'd sent him.
Then I noticed several messages from a familiar e-mail address...it was my wife's. My glance immediately shot in his direction.
Anghsu was smiling. "SUMITA and I have been chatting for a while."
I frantically opened the most recent e-mail, titled - Re; Feeling naughty today? The first thing I saw was a picture of SUMITA standing in what appeared to be a bathroom. I could tell it was a self-shot cell phone pic. She was holding her red sari and the blouse underneath open, exposing her bra-clad breasts, and her petticoat pants rolled up to her waste, showing off her panties. Her underwear was purple, like he'd said. The message was short and sweet – 'Always feeling naughty for you'. My hands were shaking so badly it was difficult to open the next one. I couldn't speak, or even look at Anghsu.
The next one was from two days earlier and had no picture, only text. 'Yeah, I hear what you're saying. It was fun though. My emotions are all over the place these days. I'm happy though, mostly.' It was far too vague for me to understand the nature or the meaning of the message.
The next one contained another low quality cell phone picture. It appeared to be in our kitchen. SUMITA was holding the cell phone out in front of her, only her upper half was visible, and she had on only a bra. Her mouth was opened wide and she was pushing a cucumber into it. The text was short, and read like an inside joke - 'Stretch! LOL' I continued rummaging through his e-mail. Many of them were only text and most were short. My wife was discussing her emotions, her moods, and our relationship, explaining things her and I had done, and conversations we'd had. Some of them discussed her job and co-workers, most I knew, and some I didn't. All of the messages were about as vague as the first one I'd read and left me little to go on as far as figuring out what the nature of her involvement with Anghsu was. A few of them had pictures attached. A couple of them were innocent enough, fully clothed, smiling. One had both of us in it, I remembered the night we took it. The majority of them though, had her in various stages of undress in a provocative pose. I hadn't found any of them with nudity.
Most of what I read was pretty tame. But a few things concerned me more than others. There was one picture of her lying on a bed, one that wasn't ours, wearing only panties, a see through typel, and her legs spread wide. Given the distance and angle I knew she couldn't have snapped it herself with a cell phone. Had Anghsu taken that picture?
I was also bothered by a name that kept popping up a lot, Nikhil. I had no idea who that was, and nothing in particular was said that bothered me, just that she mentioned him so much. The main thing that bothered me was a passage of text in one of the messages that read –
'After we made love tonight, I went into the bathroom and cried. I was at my wits end. I finally had to accept the fact that I can never have an orgasm with the man I love. No matter how he tries, he will never satisfy me.'
[/i]
(To Be Continued)
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