Extreme Cuckolding Pt. 04


The whole cuckold thing turned Richard and me on, but other not so obvious things to do with this did. I kept thinking of men I knew, and who I liked, wondering about them fucking me. I also had thoughts of other men who I didn’t fancy, doing what they wanted with me. Richard wasn’t just wearing my tights, he would wear a skirt and also my old pink bra became his. Some evenings when we got home from work he would ask me if he could go and change. Sometimes I was okay with it, other times I wasn’t, it happened about once every two weeks. I would sit with him at the computer, and read to him about wives going out on dates. I would throw in little comments about how lucky the women were, and how the useless husband deserved to be left home alone. My hand would be up his skirt, just idly touching his erection through his tights.

When we found stories with cuckold husband’s wearing their wife’s clothes, and I would say, “Oh look he is just like you, so I know exactly how his poor wife feels.”

He loved these little remarks, and I would go further telling him, “If ever I brought home a cream pie for you, it would be a punishment and not a reward.”

He shook and came while I told him, “you’re not a real man, and luckily for me there are plenty out there.”

Some things about him turning into a sissy I didn’t like, I didn’t even like the term sissy, but it seems that is what he was, so I started using it. One thing he asked was if he could pad out the bra, I said no, well that wasn’t the words I used, it was, “no fucking way are you doing that and no wig or make up,” I thought that was going too far. He looked quite shocked which I smile about now. I think it was one of those times where I was genuinely angry with him. I’m not stupid I knew him wearing women’s clothes meant he was, or was on his way to becoming a transvestite or cross dresser, but at the time I thought there was no harm in doing what we were doing. I just wasn’t prepared to let him go the whole way, because I felt it would make me feel insecure. I have no problem with men dressing up as women, but I didn’t want my husband doing the whole thing. Sorry I guess I’ve over written that but it was truly how I felt.

So to my date with Trent. After I left the pages on the pillow with the details of the dinner I had cooked for Trent, I got myself ready. I wore a red mini dress which showed off my cleavage, black tights and black high heels. Remember this is my first date as a married woman, or slut wife.

So there I was all ready for Trent. That was when on the phone I told Trent the lie about Richard’s mum falling over. Richard was actually at his mum’s that evening.

Anyway Trent turned up and yes I was wearing his locket. I really can’t explain without going into pages and pages about my feelings. I wanted him to be pleased with me, I wanted him to lust after me, but I also wanted him doing these little domineering things like giving me the locket.

I think some of you might think this a little strange, but I was actually proud to be his slut. When I was writing this part, I showed Richard that line, asking him if I should delete it. He said no because this was me being honest, and I should leave it in, because I was being honest about not liking him wear padding in his bra.

I heard Trent’s car coming through the arch into the parking area, it’s got quite a distinctive sound.

I went downstairs and out into the car park. I had trouble keeping my dress down in the wind. I had one hand in front of me holding it down, and one doing the same at the back. I let go of my dress to open the car door, and my dress flipped right up. I don’t mean a quick flash, the whole skirt part flipped right up on my stomach. Trent got an eyeful of my pussy covered by the tights. Also remember at the time he thought Richard was meeting us. He smiled at me, and said I was naughty teasing him like that. I leant towards him to kiss him, and he offered me his cheek. I just pulled his face to mine and kissed him full on. He looked a little shocked, and said something about me teasing him being unfair. That’s when I told him about Richard knowing about us, and he didn’t mind. I didn’t give him time to say anything, I said we should go in case one the neighbours came out, and then I would tell him everything. He still looked a little surprised, so I thought actions speak louder than words, and I open the locket and showed him the words inside “Trent’s Slut.” I left it open so he really got the message as he drove.

He said he had a load of questions, but he didn’t know which one to ask first. I said I would explain it while we had dinner. We went to an Italian restaurant. One of the waiters and the owner seemed to know Trent, and I wondered how many girls he had taken there. It took me most of the meal to explain everything. He just sat there at first quite shocked, but as I told him things his smile seemed to grow and grow.

He said he knew there was something odd with şişli escort Richard from what Tanya had told him. I asked him what, because I was dreading something else coming out that Richard hadn’t told me. He told me about Richard wearing Tanya’s tights, and she had told Trent she caught him. I felt quite relieved that was all it was. I didn’t mention what else Richard was wearing, but I did say he liked wearing my tights. I even mentioned I had never sucked him off. He chuckled at that and said, “Good and I never should.”

I said, “So are you telling me I can’t suck my husband off?”

He grinned at me and said, “No never, just remember the words in the locket, and while you are my slut, no you can’t.”

I think I must have looked at him strangely, because he told he was sorry and he shouldn’t be saying things like that. I took a mental deep breath, and I told him he could say that if he really meant it.

He said, “I do mean it Jenny, and you should remember that.”

We walked to the car park after the meal, and I stopped him and we kissed. With what he had said above just before we left the Italian, it felt like a test, and while maybe other women would have told him where to go, I felt like this was something exciting and new, and I wanted to explore it further. I wanted him testing me, and being dominant because I had never had that before.

I had other ideas rolling round my head, but I kept them to myself not sure how to bring it all up without it sounding incredibly insane. So I just asked him to take me back to his house.

He had a new house which had been built about five years ago, on a new estate. When I walked in I could tell only a guy lived there. It was clean and tidy, with photos of racing cars on the wall, and the colours were bold. There was a huge flat screen on the wall, a black couch, and the latest game machines. He watched me walking around looking at things. There were a couple of photos of him with a couple of girls in a pub, the usual thing, holding their drinks up, arms round each other, and all smiling.

He said I should ask Richard first, about me becoming his slut.

I sipped my wine, and then said, “No, I’ll tell him.”

We spent about an hour sat on his couch talking. I mentioned right away that I wasn’t sure how long cuckolding Richard would carry on for. Trent asked me if I wanted it to carry on. I’m going to be honest with you all now. I really think I would have missed it, and I told Trent that. Not just the sex with other guys, but the little fantasies Richard and I talked about, even him getting excited wearing my tights. I thought if all that stopped, while it wasn’t the end of the world, it would be giving up something we both enjoyed. I couldn’t even see it going back to just fantasy talk, without either of us thinking about doing it again.

Trent and I started making up rules about how and when, and what was okay and what was not. We did laugh about the things we thought of that went way over the top. It is too much to write about all the thoughts. We agreed that either of us could stop it if we wanted too. The whole idea and the rules we talked about made me tingle, from head to foot. After only six weeks of marriage, there I was happily giving my Bull, or lover, or fuck buddy, or whatever you want to call him, the chance to have my married pussy whenever he wanted.

Trent started kissing me, and touching the inside of my thigh. It was lovely having a guy who touched me like he owned me. He asked me if I wanted to go home or go to bed. I think he was still thinking about me stopping cuckolding Richard, but the sneaky bastard didn’t ask until he was rubbing my pussy. I said I wanted to carry on, and he got back into this making me beg for it. I had to repeat things like I was his slut, and my pussy belonged to him.

We went to bed and I sucked his cock while he ate my pussy. We stopped short of coming, and then he fucked me. I looked up into his eyes, until mine closed and I hugged him as I came. It was very intense, probably because of all the things we had talked about earlier. Trent came after a few minutes and we just lay with his cock in me for a while cuddling. We started kissing, and he started fucking me again, I could actually feel his cock growing inside of me. I had another wonderful orgasm, and Trent said there was no way I was likely to give up fucking guys. It took Trent about 15 minutes after that to come again.

It was about midnight when Trent dropped me home. I kissed him in his car in the parking area. He hadn’t let me put my tights back on, and he fingered me for a few minutes. He said, he wouldn’t stop even if one of the neighbours came out, and if they came up to the car and asked what he was doing, he would say, “fingering the married slut I own, and you can have her next.”

He stopped touching me, leaving me close to an orgasm. He said I had to wait until next time. We kissed and smiled at each other.

I found taksim escort my cuckold in bed wearing my tights with another pair pulled over his cock. I told Richard that later I was going to straddle him, and he wasn’t going to fuck my pussy, but I would rub it over his cock while he was still wearing my tights.

I lay next to Richard and told him most of what Trent and I had talked about, how I was his, and how he could call me anytime he wanted his pussy. I said how Trent and I had agreed on a few rules. I told Richard about them, as he lay shaking in the bed. He listened without interrupting at all. I told him I had agreed to do anything Trent wanted, and I was Trent’s girl. I did chicken out in the end about telling him that he had to accept it, because I wanted Richard’s honest thoughts. So I asked him if he agreed to it all. He said, yes he wanted it for his own selfish reasons, yes he wanted it for me, and yes if anyone we knew saw me with Trent and asked about it. I could tell the truth about Richard liking it, so whoever asked knew I wasn’t going behind his back. That last part was a big thing to me. It was something I feared, and was sure might well happen one day.

I straddle him, and slowly started rubbing my pussy over his cock while he was still wearing his tights.

I started bitching at him then, telling him I wasn’t going to stop cuckolding him, even if he begged me.

I told him how wonderful dinner had been with a real man. I said about us making up the rules, and how Trent had fucked me twice. I told him, Trent knew he had gotten caught wearing Tanya’s tights, and I had told Trent he wore mine too. He started whimpering at that, and I could feel him shaking. He was getting close, so I said about the locket I was wearing.

I told Richard, “The words were now very true, I am Trent’s Slut, his girl, and his married lover. Now be a good wimp and kiss the locket.”

He kissed the locket, and then came in the tights he had on his cock, his arms were shaking as I waved the open locket in front of his face, grinning at him.

He pulled the tights off his cock, but kept on the tights he was wearing on his legs. We cuddled, and I asked him if I had gone too far with bitching at him. He said no he liked it, and I could say whatever came into my head, and it was even better because it was Trent we were talking about. I had a few questions in my head about that but I held them back.

Also like I said somewhere before, I really liked bitching at Richard, only when I was cuckolding him, I couldn’t do it without that. We both knew that was part of it, and as long as he enjoyed it I was okay doing it.

The next morning I got coffee and toast brought to me in bed. Richard had put one of my skirts on and he still had my tan tights on his legs. Richard isn’t very hairy, but I told him he looked silly with hairy legs. I asked if he wanted to shave them. He said he had thought about it, but he wouldn’t do it unless I said it was okay. I said I wasn’t sure, and he said no problem. It was the way he said it, as well as the words themselves that I knew he was lying. He had used those words and that tone, the false I don’t care tone, before; it was when he wanted to do something that I didn’t really want him to.

I put my hand up his skirt and fondled his cock and balls for a few moments. I actually liked the feeling of his cock and balls in the nylon, it made them feel nice and smooth. I asked him what the guys he played football with would think if he turned up with hairless legs. He said they probably wouldn’t notice, but if they did he would tell them it was a side effect of getting stressed over something. I couldn’t believe he had that answer all ready set in his head.

I waited until later on when things had calmed down, and I asked him out of the blue, if he really wanted me to be Trent’s slut. (I know I keep going over some things, but remember we were just getting a feel for it.)

He said he had agreed last night. I said I knew that but he was turned on then. He said he loved me and wanted it probably as much as I did. I just gave him a little smile which told him he was right.

Richard told me when making my toast and coffee; he was imagining what it would be like to serve Trent and me like that one morning.

“And would my cuckold be wearing tights and a skirt, like you did?” I asked.

He said he wasn’t sure Trent would want that.

Last night we had talked about him watching Trent fuck me, and Trent had agreed to it in theory, but some how and for some reason, Richard walking in with coffee and toast the next morning in a skirt and hose, was something I found a little harder to imagine.

I said, “Yes I think that is going too far.”

Richard said, “If you, or Trent demanded it, then I would do it.”

I had loads of thoughts about that, some of which were that perhaps Richard was biting off more than he could chew. If I demanded him making breakfast beşiktaş escort for us, he might not like bringing it to us, let a lone wearing tights and a skirt.

I was also thinking, (and I know it is a bit late now,) Trent works with Richard and what would that be like after Trent had fucked me in front of Richard. Knowing it had already happened, but that Richard wasn’t watching, seemed different somehow. Then throw in Richard wearing items of women’s clothing, maybe even as he watched me with Trent, what would life be like at work for him?

Another thing was if Trent hadn’t told me Tanya told him she had caught Richard wearing her tights, I would certainly have not mentioned it to Trent myself. Maybe I had made a mistake telling him he wore mine. You see how now and then these little problematic things cropped up in my head.

Nearly a week later I let Richard shave his legs, and then I did a few parts he had missed. When he came in the bedroom I had opened a pair of tan tights. I told him to put them on. He said they felt even better on shaved legs. Then I told him to open a drawer. I watched Richard’s face; he just looked at me like he couldn’t believe it. He even wiped away a tear. In the drawer I had put a 5 pair pack of panties, red, blue, white, pink, and black. I had told him a few times I drew the line at him wearing my panties. There was a black suspender belt, and black and tan stockings. Two packs of five pairs of tights, in tan and barely black. Most of it was bought from Wilkinson’s so they were cheap too.

I told him to open his side of the wardrobe. There was a little gap between his male clothes, then a new black knee length skirt, a couple of my old ones, one was a mini skirt in a plum colour, the other was a beige skirt, and a white blouse, and a pink and black top which were women’s t shirt types. What were not my old clothes, I got from charity shops.

Now he was crying and I told him to stop, but here’s the thing I did feel for him. I repeated, I didn’t want him wearing make up, and no wig, and from now on I didn’t want him wearing my clothes. I said we could add to his now and then, but for a while that was his. I said playing “dress up” would be once or twice a month and he could dress when I was out, but I didn’t want him wearing it all the time. I told him he could have a pair of shoes with a low heel, because there was no way his size 8 feet were getting in my old size 6 shoes. I had visions of him falling off the high heels. He cuddled me so tight it was hurting me. He was honestly quite speechless for time.

The next day he came home with flowers and chocolates for me.

Okay I was being devious with all of this, and I’m sure reading this you might think it odd the way I went from not minding, to encouraging him in wearing women’s clothes. The bit below explains it.

I said he could dress up next Saturday which was just under a week away, because I was going out with Trent and not coming back until Sunday. He said Trent had told him he was going to a wedding, about 60 miles away, and then staying overnight in a hotel. I said yes, I knew, and I was going with him. Again that was something Trent and I talked about on the couch after our night out. It was Trent flexing his authority over me, and to be honest I really wanted to go. I could tell straightaway that Richard was turned on by it.

He said, “Are you asking me if you can go?”

I simply replied, “Trent wants me with him, so I’m going, end of.”

That night I rode Richard. He came after a couple of minutes. There was no cuckold talk it was just a husband fucking his wife. Which to be honest I needed.

The idea of buying Richard women’s clothes I know you’ll think is me helping him become a cross dresser, or transvestite, and while I say you’re right, I really thought I could control Richard from going that far. I was also sick of him wearing my clothes. He had put on one of my skirts, and the button had come off. You might think, oh well just put a button on it, but when you’re rushing around going out that night, and wanting to wear something in particular, and you can’t because your husband has broken it, it is bloody infuriating.

About writing all this and sending it to you to read.

Richard says he loves everything, even the little bits he didn’t know until he read it. I asked him a few questions and these were his replies. I asked him what he liked about me.

“Everything, your legs obviously, and your pretty face, I like the way you always look, and the way you just accept me wearing your tights and skirts and things. I know you don’t like certain things, but that’s fine because you give me more than I deserve.”

He offered this about our rules.

“The first rule, well in my head the first rule is you always have to look sexy when you go to meet other men. It’s a big thing you dressing up, wearing sexy things, and doing your hair and make up. I could watch you getting ready and it would never get stale. You always look a little sexier, prettier, and things look even more perfect than normal. It makes my heart jump, every time. I tell myself it’s not for me, it’s for other men; my wife is putting herself on show for other men.”

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