One time cuckold
Introduction:
Proving your love by allowing her to stray
In a sense, it was an attempt to reassure her. We had met through an online dating website. I was into her from the first time we met. She was petite, with curling dark brown hair, a white complexion, and full breasts which her black blouse set off perfectly. It was after our third date that she came back to my place, and we made delicious love together.
Afterwards we talked, and she told me that her last relationship had broken up because her guy had started seeing someone else behind her back. Because of that, she was not sure that she could trust another guy very easily.
While we were talking, her head was on my shoulder, her full breasts on my chest, and her hand was slowly stroking my cock, making it hard again. I reassured her that I had never cheated on any woman I had been involved with, totally true, and that she was all the woman that I wanted. To make the point even more strongly I added that I would still want her, even if she slept with someone else.
It was not something that I had planned to say, or had thought through. It was instinctive, and it was more about making her realise how much I wanted her than about being turned on by her being with another guy. But it became something that I repeated, and she started saying that she might take me up on my offer. Just talking about it proved to be a serious turn on, making me hard, and if she said anything about it while we were making love, it would make her fuck her even harder, which she enjoyed.
A couple of months into our relationship, she mentioned a guy called Paul. He was a former colleague, from a previous job that she had had. They kept in touch, meeting up occasionally as friends. What she said, while we were in bed together, was that if she decided to sleep with anyone else, she would want it to be him.
Again, she was stroking my cock while she was saying this, and it hardened even more. I moved between her legs, sliding into her easily, her pussy already wet, and started fucking her, telling her the one condition I was placing on her was that she told me everything afterwards. She promised that she would, and we made beautiful love, a pact having been agreed between us.
It was another few weeks before anything happened. We were in the kitchen, making breakfast on a Saturday morning, when she told me that she had arranged to meet Paul for lunch. She planned to tell him that I had agreed to let him make love with her, and would go back to his place if he wanted to take her up on it.
My stomach churned when she told me. Fantasising about it had been one thing. Hearing her tell me that she was going to meet him that day was something else entirely. But a pact had been made, and I drew her to me, saying that it was fine. My cock hardened. We kissed, and within minutes we were back upstairs in bed, and I was fucking her and coming inside her. After a break, I was hard again, and inside her again. By the time that we had finished, it was too late for her to meet for lunch, and she was using her mobile to apologise to him, and rearrange for the next day instead.
The knowledge of what was going to happen kept me hard that night, and we made love twice before we slept, and again on waking. This time, after coffee, she dressed, wearing a red trimmed bra, panties and suspenders set that I had bought her, with black stockings under her dress. We agreed that she would text me to let me know what was going on, and three hours later, I got her text, saying that she was in his flat. I replied, my stomach churning again, but saying that she shoud enjoy him, and then spent the next three hours or so, waiting for her to come back, and knowing that while I was waiting, a guy I had never met was fucking her.
It was incredible when she walked in, and back in the kitchen she began to tell me what had happened. They had met for lunch in a London art gallery, looking at the paintings after they had eaten. One had been of a reclining nude, and Paul had joked that he would like to see her like that some time. She had been nervous of bringing up the pact that we had made, but took the opportunity to say that if he really wanted to, then she would go back to his place with him.
He took a moment to check that she was serious. Then he took her hand, led her from the gallery, and brought her to his flat. Inside the door, they kissed, and his hands explored her body through her clothes, unzipping her dress, and sliding it from her while they were still in his hallway.
He then led her by the hand into his living room, the dress discarded in the hallway, and took her in his arms again. Her bra was next to be removed, and he fondled her breasts, enjoying their fullness. Then he slid down her panties, removing them as he moved her to the leather sofa. He knelt, and moved his mead between her legs.
It was a previous partner, she had told me, who had paid for the laser treatment she had had, to reduce a thick copse of pubic hair to a neat triangle above her slit that she kept trimmed. Paul used his tongue to explore her slit, expertly licking her to her first orgasm in his flat, before excusing himself to go through to his bedroom, leaving her naked other than her stockings and suspenders.
When he came back, he was naked, and had a condom, which he rolled onto his erect cock. He turned her sideways on the sofa, moved over her, and entered her. I did not ask her if his cock was larger or smaller than mine. Just hearing her describe his fucking her was incredible. She had orgasmed again while he was fucking her, and he had then come inside her.
After they had rested together, Paul had withdrawn. He had removed the condom, and they had both gone through to his bedroom. She had used his bathroom to freshen up while he had lain on his bed, and then she had joined him there, and they had held each other.
She admitted that she had deliberately stroked him back to a hard erection, and then climbed on top of him, reaching round to angle his cock towards her slit from behind, and then moving back onto it.
I checked with her, whether he had worn a condom that time, and she said that he had not. It had just happened so naturally, and he was inside her without her even thinking about it. This time it had taken longer, but she had enjoyed another orgasm, and eventually he had come again, still inside her.
That had been enough to hear. We had been holding each other, still standing in the kitchen, my cock hard, but hearing her describe Paul fucking her bare, and coming inside her, I brought her up to the bedroom, we both undressed, and within seconds I was inside her. It was delicious. Her pussy was beautifully wet and ready to be fucked again.
As we made love, she said that she could not believe that I was reacting the way I was, and that I seemed so turned on by what she had done. I told her that I was seriously impressed that she had gone through with it, and that it did turn me on that another guy had been fucking her only hours before. I loved that she was the sexual woman that she was, able to enjoy two men on one day.
I was also using my body to reclaim her. I had both of her legs bent to her chest, my shoulders pressing on her calves, my arms wrapped around her, and was fucking her as deeply as I could go. I still was disinterested in the size of Paul’s cock. That did not matter. What mattered was that now it was me who was fucking her, making her whimper and making her come.
As I fucked her, I whispered in her ear, that she should remember that her pussy belonged to me. I had allowed her to let another guy fuck her, but it had been my decision, and she still belonged to me. In response, I received kisses on my neck and cheeks, and her confirmation that her pussy was mine for as long as I wanted it.
It happened only once. We still talk about it, and get off on it. Does that make me a cuckold. I do not know the answer to that, and I do not care. She is good to be with, and delicious to fuck, and her pussy is very definitely mine.
Afterwards we talked, and she told me that her last relationship had broken up because her guy had started seeing someone else behind her back. Because of that, she was not sure that she could trust another guy very easily.
While we were talking, her head was on my shoulder, her full breasts on my chest, and her hand was slowly stroking my cock, making it hard again. I reassured her that I had never cheated on any woman I had been involved with, totally true, and that she was all the woman that I wanted. To make the point even more strongly I added that I would still want her, even if she slept with someone else.
It was not something that I had planned to say, or had thought through. It was instinctive, and it was more about making her realise how much I wanted her than about being turned on by her being with another guy. But it became something that I repeated, and she started saying that she might take me up on my offer. Just talking about it proved to be a serious turn on, making me hard, and if she said anything about it while we were making love, it would make her fuck her even harder, which she enjoyed.
A couple of months into our relationship, she mentioned a guy called Paul. He was a former colleague, from a previous job that she had had. They kept in touch, meeting up occasionally as friends. What she said, while we were in bed together, was that if she decided to sleep with anyone else, she would want it to be him.
Again, she was stroking my cock while she was saying this, and it hardened even more. I moved between her legs, sliding into her easily, her pussy already wet, and started fucking her, telling her the one condition I was placing on her was that she told me everything afterwards. She promised that she would, and we made beautiful love, a pact having been agreed between us.
It was another few weeks before anything happened. We were in the kitchen, making breakfast on a Saturday morning, when she told me that she had arranged to meet Paul for lunch. She planned to tell him that I had agreed to let him make love with her, and would go back to his place if he wanted to take her up on it.
My stomach churned when she told me. Fantasising about it had been one thing. Hearing her tell me that she was going to meet him that day was something else entirely. But a pact had been made, and I drew her to me, saying that it was fine. My cock hardened. We kissed, and within minutes we were back upstairs in bed, and I was fucking her and coming inside her. After a break, I was hard again, and inside her again. By the time that we had finished, it was too late for her to meet for lunch, and she was using her mobile to apologise to him, and rearrange for the next day instead.
The knowledge of what was going to happen kept me hard that night, and we made love twice before we slept, and again on waking. This time, after coffee, she dressed, wearing a red trimmed bra, panties and suspenders set that I had bought her, with black stockings under her dress. We agreed that she would text me to let me know what was going on, and three hours later, I got her text, saying that she was in his flat. I replied, my stomach churning again, but saying that she shoud enjoy him, and then spent the next three hours or so, waiting for her to come back, and knowing that while I was waiting, a guy I had never met was fucking her.
It was incredible when she walked in, and back in the kitchen she began to tell me what had happened. They had met for lunch in a London art gallery, looking at the paintings after they had eaten. One had been of a reclining nude, and Paul had joked that he would like to see her like that some time. She had been nervous of bringing up the pact that we had made, but took the opportunity to say that if he really wanted to, then she would go back to his place with him.
He took a moment to check that she was serious. Then he took her hand, led her from the gallery, and brought her to his flat. Inside the door, they kissed, and his hands explored her body through her clothes, unzipping her dress, and sliding it from her while they were still in his hallway.
He then led her by the hand into his living room, the dress discarded in the hallway, and took her in his arms again. Her bra was next to be removed, and he fondled her breasts, enjoying their fullness. Then he slid down her panties, removing them as he moved her to the leather sofa. He knelt, and moved his mead between her legs.
It was a previous partner, she had told me, who had paid for the laser treatment she had had, to reduce a thick copse of pubic hair to a neat triangle above her slit that she kept trimmed. Paul used his tongue to explore her slit, expertly licking her to her first orgasm in his flat, before excusing himself to go through to his bedroom, leaving her naked other than her stockings and suspenders.
When he came back, he was naked, and had a condom, which he rolled onto his erect cock. He turned her sideways on the sofa, moved over her, and entered her. I did not ask her if his cock was larger or smaller than mine. Just hearing her describe his fucking her was incredible. She had orgasmed again while he was fucking her, and he had then come inside her.
After they had rested together, Paul had withdrawn. He had removed the condom, and they had both gone through to his bedroom. She had used his bathroom to freshen up while he had lain on his bed, and then she had joined him there, and they had held each other.
She admitted that she had deliberately stroked him back to a hard erection, and then climbed on top of him, reaching round to angle his cock towards her slit from behind, and then moving back onto it.
I checked with her, whether he had worn a condom that time, and she said that he had not. It had just happened so naturally, and he was inside her without her even thinking about it. This time it had taken longer, but she had enjoyed another orgasm, and eventually he had come again, still inside her.
That had been enough to hear. We had been holding each other, still standing in the kitchen, my cock hard, but hearing her describe Paul fucking her bare, and coming inside her, I brought her up to the bedroom, we both undressed, and within seconds I was inside her. It was delicious. Her pussy was beautifully wet and ready to be fucked again.
As we made love, she said that she could not believe that I was reacting the way I was, and that I seemed so turned on by what she had done. I told her that I was seriously impressed that she had gone through with it, and that it did turn me on that another guy had been fucking her only hours before. I loved that she was the sexual woman that she was, able to enjoy two men on one day.
I was also using my body to reclaim her. I had both of her legs bent to her chest, my shoulders pressing on her calves, my arms wrapped around her, and was fucking her as deeply as I could go. I still was disinterested in the size of Paul’s cock. That did not matter. What mattered was that now it was me who was fucking her, making her whimper and making her come.
As I fucked her, I whispered in her ear, that she should remember that her pussy belonged to me. I had allowed her to let another guy fuck her, but it had been my decision, and she still belonged to me. In response, I received kisses on my neck and cheeks, and her confirmation that her pussy was mine for as long as I wanted it.
It happened only once. We still talk about it, and get off on it. Does that make me a cuckold. I do not know the answer to that, and I do not care. She is good to be with, and delicious to fuck, and her pussy is very definitely mine.
