Accepting Cuckold Ch. 02byCuckoldGuy©
A normal married woman is content to live out her entire life in monogamy. She enjoys the comfort and security of marriage and she doesn't want to go beyond it's bounds. She and her husband will explore and experiment with their sexuality but if it comes to sex with another man, she will not cross that line.
This frustrates many husbands who want to see their wives experience sex with another man but she refuses. This is the natural nature of a woman.
This chapter as in the preceding one is about another type of woman. The promiscuous wife. In her marriage, there is no exploring or experimenting with their sexuality because she doesn't know how to act. Her cuckold will often hear her words, "I don't do that. I'm not that kind of girl." The poor guy doesn't know that he is a cuckold.
When she was a young girl, an older boy or man molested her. It may have been a one time event or she may have been molested over a period of time, in any case, she was told not to say anything to her parents and she complied.
When I was in my mid twenties I had two acquaintances, Johnny and Sal. Like me they were in their mid twenties, both were married and Sal had two small children.
One afternoon Johnny came home from work and got into an intense argument with his wife. In the heat of the argument his wife shouted, "You never show me any affection! If I want affection, I get it from Sal! Yes, Sal! Your friend! He's been fucking me for the past six months!"
Hearing this, Johnny became enraged. He stormed out of the house and drove to Sal's house. Sal's wife and two children were sitting on the front porch waiting for Sal. Johnny asked, "Where is he?"
She replied, "We're waiting for him to get home from work. Oh, here he is now."
Sal was pulling into his driveway, he stopped to say Hi to Johnny. Johnny pulled out his pistol and at point blank range, shot Sal dead in front of his wife and kids.
Johnny got his revenge. He kept his ego, his pride, dignity and self respect but he lost his freedom. He's in prison, serving a life sentence.
Infidelity is hardest on a man. Too many cases end in murder and suicide with the vast majority of cases ending in divorce. And then there is the accepting cuckolds like myself and the guy I wrote about in chapter one.
We try to keep our wives activities hidden from our friends and family. Our wives play the role of the good wife but in the privacy of our bedrooms, she is the dominate partner. She uses humiliation and shame to keep us subservient. She knows that humiliation is our aphrodisiac and she knows how to use it on us.
Consider this; boys growing up will get into fights with each other but an hour later they are friends playing ball together. Girls on the other hand will get into an argument and then they will play mind games and their psychological war can go on for years. Girls can be very devious.
When a woman comes into a marriage, she comes with her secret arsenal of psychological weapons. It may even have been her psychological powers of persuasion that caused her man to propose marriage in the first place. The male may be taller and stronger but he doesn't stand a chance against a wife who is intent on making him her cuckold.
When my wife first met me, she thought to herself, "He's good looking, intelligent, has limited experience with girls, he probably will be a good provider and I can manipulate him. I'll have to be careful and make him special. No fucking or blow jobs for this guy. I want him to see me as a pure, innocent, chaste angel."
From the start of our marriage, I always got home from work first so I would take a shower and then prepare dinner. After dinner I would clean up the kitchen while my wife went into the bedroom to lay out her clothes for the following day. Then she would take a shower.
At the end of her shower, I would dry her, finishing up by kneeling in front of her, drying her feet, then up her legs to her mound. After drying all of her pubic hair with a soft towel, she would reward me by letting me lick her clitoris once or twice.
It was only once or twice because once she has showered she doesn't want to get messy by having sex. I would then help her into her robe and she would dismiss me so she could primp her hair.
In the living room I would sit at the end of the couch so that she could lay down, place her feet on my lap and have me massage her feet. I always watched the TV shows she wanted.
At first, my wife made me feel like the dominate partner in our courtship but I was always so anxious to please her that after a year of marriage, she transformed me to where she became the dominate partner. In the privacy of our home our relationship evolved into a master slave or more like a queen/servant.
During that first year of our marriage, whenever I was nude in front of her, I was always proud of my manhood but after that first year things changed. Suddenly I became embarrassed to be naked in front of her and I didn't know why. Maybe it was the way she began to look at me that made me feel ashamed of my nakedness.
The first year that I was her husband, she looked up to me and there was an intimacy between us but after she cuckold me, she looked down on me and the intimacy was gone.
Whenever she knew that I was going to be naked, like when I was going to take a shower, she would come into the bedroom, fully clothed. It gave her a sense of power to have me nude in front of her. She would start a conversation and I would feel uncomfortable to be naked like that. I felt the urge to cover up but I knew it would be a violation of our intimacy. Some times she would make the comment, "You have a cute little penis."
I'm average size but it was her way of belittling my manhood. She knew that when I was nude, I was defenseless and a victim of her subtle remarks. Remarks aimed at stripping away my male dominance and masculinity.
After we were married a year, she had successfully denied me the ability to initiate sexual intercourse. She claimed that intercourse was too uncomfortable. That it hurt and there was something wrong with me because I wanted it too much. That I was selfish and didn't care for her feelings. She accused me of being a pervert because I was always craving sex.
Being too young and too naive, I didn't know what a normal marriage was. My sex life by now was mostly masturbation. I suspected that her manager was giving her all of the sexual excitement and gratification she craved.
There were times that I would accuse her of having an affair. She would smirk at me and ask, "Can you prove that?" Which I couldn't.
Because of my growing suspicions, I began seeing a woman psychologist and after many sessions, she came to these conclusions saying, "From everything that you have told me, I have to say, that your suspicions are not unfounded. Yes, your wife is having an affair. You don't need any proof."
Hearing her say that, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. All along I knew my wife was having an affair, I just didn't want to acknowledge it. The doctor confirmed all of my fears and it made me embarrassed. I felt like I was going to cry.
The doctor continued, "Keep in mind, it is not the circumstances that are thrust upon you that matter. It is how you react to those circumstances. Your wife is not going to change. I recommend that you seriously consider divorce."
Divorce for me was out of the question. I loved her too much, no one in my family ever got a divorce. It was against my religion, it was too expensive and if I did divorce, I had no place to live, no where to go. I decided to let my wife make the decision if she wanted to divorce me. I never told her of the doctor's conversation with me.
The psychologist went on, "I'm going to write a prescription for you. Each night, about an hour before bed, I want you to take two tablets. They will help you to sleep. During the day, if you start to think of your wife with her manager I want you to take one tablet. It will help ease some of your anxiety."
After two weeks on medication I decided to skip it one night. When my wife got into bed she discovered that I had an erection so she knew that I had not taken my medication. She had to masturbate me to put me into a deep sleep and as she was stroking me she said, "You must take your medication. I can't be doing this every night."
The following night and every night there after, about an hour before bed, my wife would get a glass of water and come into the living room where I was sitting. She would hand me the pills saying, "Here's your medication. I want to make sure that you swallow these. It will help us both to sleep."
After about four weeks of being on the medication, one night she brought me the pills but this night I told her I didn't want to take them. She replied, "You will take them. I'm not going to have you twisting and turning all night."
She stood over me, staring down at me with the pills in her open hand, the other hand holding a glass of water. I was thinking that she was going to sit beside me and masturbate me into submission like she usually does. Anticipating her hand job, I got an erection. She couldn't see it because I was sitting. Then she used a more forceful voice saying, "I said take these." I shook my head, "No" and it gave her a pang of anger.
She shifted her stance which caused her robe to slip open, exposing her pussy. It was inches away from my face and her pubic hair smelled clean and fresh from her shower. I could see that she had powdered it. Just a half hour earlier I had knelt before it and patted it dry, paying my homage to her by kissing it but now she was flaunting it. Using it to humiliate me.
She knows the mystical, magical powers her pussy has over me. Exposing herself to me, empowers her. She has full control over how I am going to act. She decides if I make love to it or just let me admire it. For me, not having any control is humbling.
We knew that it was no longer mine. That I no longer had control over it. She watched me looking at it. She could see the desire in my eyes and my yearning to make love to her. I wanted to fuck her rough and furious. I wanted to pound into her so hard and reclaim her pussy as mine.
I felt the weight of her stare. I slowly panned my eyes up her body to her tummy then up to her breast and then up to her face. She must have been reading my mind because when our eyes met, she spoke in her sensual tone saying, "You're not man enough, are you?"
Reaching up I took the pills from her hand and put them in my mouth. She handed me the glass of water and as I was drinking it, she tied her robe closed. Then taking the empty glass from me, she placed it on the coffee table. Stepping out of her slippers, she stretched out on the couch with her head at the far end.
Laying on her back, she pushed her bare feet into my lap feeling my erection as she did but she wasn't concerned about it as she knew that the medication would soon render it flaccid.
Just before turning to watch the television she said, "It's been a long day. Rub my feet" and I did.
When I took my marriage vows, I recited the words, "For better or for worse." I got the worse.