Reluctant Loving Cuckoldress - Sex Stories

Reluctant Loving Cuckoldress

... you. As he left the room, I noticed that he gave a respectful head nod in the direction of my husband tied up in the corner.

After nearly half an hour, I managed to get up and walk to where Trent was still tied.

He could see my tousled hair, the hickies on my throat and tits, and the rivulets of semen dripping down my legs. I could feel the cum still squishing inside me.

Any hopes I had that he would be shamed, embarrassed, or angry at another man fucking his wife in front of him evaporated. He was covered in perspiration. His penis, which I now realized was not that impressive, was harder than I had ever seen it. Pre-cum leaked from its head. There was an incredible arousal in his eyes.

I had a rush of conflicted thoughts and emotions. I had just been fucked harder, longer, and better than I knew was possible. I wanted it again! But I wanted it from my husband who I loved. And here he was more excited than I was. Not a trace of envy or jealousy.

Any images of my knight in shining armor riding out on his charger to defend his maiden's honor were gone.

I know it was unreasonable. But it was how I felt. I didn't even think. Suddenly I reached out and slapped him so hard my hand stung. I saw his face swing to one side.

I felt it before I saw it or comprehended it. I felt his hot, sticky jizz splash on my tits and abdomen. He was practically hyperventilating as his cock shot stream after stream of semen over my body and his. I had not even touched it; he ...

... could not. He had cum hard from the shame of being struck.

FUCKING FREAK!! I let out a guttural scream of anger and stormed out of the room. Leaving him bound there, covered in his own spunk as his prick kept pulsing.

I went to the kitchen and drank down two glasses of rum before I calmed enough to go take a shower. When I was clean, I finally went to him. I unfastened one hand so he could manage to release himself.

"Go take a shower before you come to bed."

I went and collapsed onto the bed, drifting off to sleep.

I left him the huge wet spot of Malcolm's and my mixed fluids to sleep in, taking the warmth of the dry sheets for myself. I was not trying to be hateful. I was simply exhausted from the most intense sexual experience of my life, and my husband was teaching me to be selfish.

In the coming days, Trent had a lot of questions. Hell, I had a lot of questions. He asked if that night had been a one-off, or were we going to do it again? Did I love Malcolm? Was he (Trent) going to be allowed to make love to me again? Was I going to lock him up again? Did I still love HIM? And a dozen other questions.

I just shrugged with each question. Finally after a couple of days I stopped him. Not cruelly. As kindly as I could I explained that I was as confused and insecure as he was, and he needed to give me time to process. When I felt I could actually answer questions, we would talk... I had questions for him also.

My husband may be a perv, but he is the smartest ...