Hubby is a Cuckold

I knew early in our relationship that there was something different about my husband, Paul. Something different compared to my previous boyfriends. It wasn’t just the way he smiled when other men admired me, or how he encouraged me to wear shorter, plunging dresses that hugged my curves and showed off my abundant cleavage.

It was the way Paul’s eyes would gleam at me, the way his voice would deepen and drop in tone, whenever I wore revealing clothes. He would tell me I looked amazing, then go on to call me things like, “sex on legs,” and assume I was going to be driving the men “crazy,” especially with my “big boobs”. I’d laugh it off, but I’d feel it too, the desire in his eyes, words, and smile.

As a busty, blue-eyed brunette, with a warm smile and a bubbly personality, I have been known to attract my fair share of male attention, particularly in my late teens and early twenties, when puberty had finished ripening me into a curvaceous young woman, with discreet, exhibitionist desires.

However, it wasn’t until my husband and I were tangled in luxurious bedsheets, on our honeymoon of all places, and whilst trying to conceive our first child, that he asked about my sexual history. It took me completely by surprise. We were moving our bodies in sync, in a rhythm that was familiar and loving, yet very satisfying.

Paul’s hands were everywhere, like he was making love to me for the very first time. I was lost in the sensation of his touches, the way he was kissing my lips and neck, before he murmured in my ear, and his body began to quiver. Even his cock twitched and seemed to throb an extra inch bigger.

“Tell me something, Jemma,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?” I sighed, moving my hips to meet his thrusts.

“Tell me about your first time. The time you lost your virginity,” he breathed raggedly.

I felt a shiver down my spine and then a tingle run back up it. I hadn’t thought about that night in years. But my husband was hornier than I’d seen him in months. I mean, he was always horny, but this was different. His increased passion made me want to tell him, to relive it for him, so that’s what I did.

“It was my friends eighteenth birthday. I was barely eighteen myself. Her parents had booked a hotel function room,” I breathed, remembering the place being decked out with balloons and streamers, the kind of over-the-top décor that screamed how old the birthday girl was. A milestone party.

“What were you wearing?” Paul asked, keeping his strokes slow and steady, while I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms and legs around him.

“I wore a tight, red, low-cut dress that hugged my figure. The kind of outfit that made me feel confident and sexy. My hair was long and curled at the ends. Lots of people said I looked nice, and a lot of the boys were checking me out. Ohh,” I sighed, feeling my husband push deeper into me.

“So who was the lucky guy? Someone from high school?” Paul breathed heavier.

“No… it was my friends older brother,” I whispered, slightly embarrassed.

“What was his name? How old was he?” Paul whispered back, a little hornier.

“His name’s Liam, and he was twenty-six,” I replied. “We all secretly fancied him. He was home on leave from the Marines.”

“You lost your virginity to a Marine? Fuck, Jemma,” my husband gasped in shock.

“He was hot,” I giggled, vividly remembering the moment our eyes locked across the room. “Liam was good-looking, not too tall, and he had a muscular body and a shaven head, but he was off limits… you know… too old and my friends brother.”

“Yeah, but you were a teenaged hottie with big tits. Was he looking at them?” my husband asked, burying his cock inside me, and grinding his pubic bone against mine. It was deep and intense, forcing me to catch my breath and hold him tightly.

“He couldn’t miss them in the dress I wore… nobody could,” I giggled once more. My husband growled, stirring his cock around inside my wet pussy. “Oh, yes,” I moaned.

“So what happened. Tell me everything.”

“He approached me at the bar, pointing out how grown up I now was, smiling at me flirtatiously. I flirted back, telling him I’d been grown up for a while.”

“Uh… I wish I could have been there…”

“Throughout the night, he kept finding excuses to talk to me. He complimented my dress and figure, telling me I was beautiful, but I could see in his eyes he just wanted to fuck me…” I quivered, remembering the sexual tension between me and Liam.

“Go on,” my husband urged, fixated on what I was saying, his warm breath on my neck. I cooed. He was really into it. No jealousy or anything, just pure lust and excitement.

“I knew I should have been more cautious. Liam was much older, experienced, and I was still so naïve, and he was out of bounds. But there was something about the way he looked at me, like I was the only girl in the room. It made me feel special… desired.

“Even though you still knew he only wanted one thing?” my husband croaked.

“Yes, if you had been a teenage girl, you’d understand.” We both chuckled off track slightly.

“What happened then?”

“He told me he wanted to kiss me. I blushed, letting him know I wanted him to, but we obviously couldn’t in front of everyone, especially his sister and family.”

“Oh, don’t stop…” my husband groaned, slowly grinding his hips against mine. “You’re fucking soaking,” he chuckled.

“Liam took my hand towards the end of the night, and led me upstairs in the hotel. We went to his room. I was shitting myself but I wanted to go with him, even though I didn’t fully understand what I was getting myself into.”

“I bet he was all over you… oh… I know I would have been.”

“He was inside the room,” I sighed, tracing my fingers up and down my husbands back. “He was a tentative kisser, surprisingly.”

“Did he know that you were a virgin? Oh fuck, I’m gonna blow soon.”

“No. I was too embarrassed to tell him I’d never been with a guy before,” I confessed.

“Fuck! I can’t believe you didn’t tell him. You robbed him of knowing he was your first,” my husband groaned sympathetically for Liam.

“He didn’t, so I was very nervous when his hands roamed my body, feeling my tits through my dress,” I detailed, leaving out the part where I was trembling with nervous excitement, and suggested to Liam that maybe we should stop. Only for him to reassure me it would be fine.

“Keep going…” my husband urged.”

“It’s a bit blurry,” I exhaled, feeling my own orgasm building. “His hands were everywhere… we were kissing… I was excited… nervous… he unzipped my dress… slid it off my shoulders and down my body.”

“Oh fuck,” my husband panted. “Did you have any underwear on?”

“Of course I did,” I moaned. “I was wearing a red bra and a red thong. “He kept kissing me… his hands couldn’t get enough.”

“I bet! Then what happened?” My husband began to increase the speed of his strokes slightly.

“He removed my bra and and played with my tits, sucking my nipples. I undid his pants and felt his cock… stroking him as I took it out.”

“Was he big?”

“He was to me,” I giggled. “Not really, about average, I’d say.”

“I bet he loved your big tits.”

“I think so,” I giggled again. It felt strange talking about it, while remembering how Liam became infatuated with my breasts, kneading them greedily, sucking my nipples hungrily, until they throbbed like his cock.

“Did you suck his dick? Uh, this is so fucking hot.”

“No, he sat me down on the bed then eased me back onto the mattress. His hands were on my breasts… my hips… smoothing my tummy… his fingers tickled inside my thighs… I was so aroused… beginning to want to have sex for the first time…”

“Keep going… oh…”

“He moved between my legs, kissing my tummy… peeling down my thong… oh, oh,” I paused, panting, clinging onto my husband.

“Don’t stop now… damn, Jemma… keep going…”

“He went down on me… the first guy to go down on me…” I squirmed underneath my husband. “He did things… things nobody had ever done to me before…”

“Did he make you come?”

“Yes…”

“Oh fuck… I need to slow down.”

My husband stopped and held me. We lay moulded together, panting, his cock not moving, but I could feel him throbbing inside me. I repeatedly clenched my vaginal walls around his length and began to gently move my hips before I continued.

“Liam moved up my body… kissing me… rubbing his cock along my slit… I was so scared… but I wanted him to do it…”

“Uh… you’re gonna make me cum,” my husband groaned as I kept squeezing his cock.

“I was wet but still too tight for him… it took him a few minutes to get it in… but he was slow and gentle…”

“How did it feel? Keep going… oh, I’m gonna cum.”

“It was mostly uncomfortable… until he got it in… and he started kissing me again. The pain faded… it was nice… I loved it when he lay on top of me… doing it slowly…” I breathed, remembering how I clung to Liam, overwhelmed to be losing my virginity in that way, so unexpected, led astray by my feelings and the yearning to become a woman.

“I bet you were so tight… oh,” my husband began to shake. “Did you come again?”

“Yes, it was amazing, but he didn’t know I was a virgin…”

“How did he not know?”

“Well,” I giggled. “I did have a vibrator under my pillow at home. I didn’t bleed or anything.”

“Mmm… what happened then?”

“He wasn’t gentle anymore…” I stopped there.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Not exactly,” I murmured.

“But he fucked you hard, not realising it was your first time?”

“Yes…” I sighed, gripping my husbands cock tighter with my inner walls. “Liam put my legs on his shoulders… grabbed my breasts… and pounded me until he came.”

“Uh fuck, Jemma… did you come?”

“I can’t remember… I think so… I just remember it being hard… ferocious… deep…” I bit my husbands shoulder, the memory of Liam fucking me mercilessly in the hotel room, pushed me to the brink of pleasure.

“Where did he cum? Was your friends older brother the first guy to ever cum inside you?Oh, fuck, your pussy feels so good… I can’t hold back much longer.”

“Yes,” I breathed heavy into my husbands ear, squeezing his cock as hard as I could. “Liam came inside me… the first guy to ever do it… I loved it…” I added, before my husband and I grunted and groaned in orgasm together.

I felt every twitch, deep inside me, wondering if it was the load that would impregnate me. It wasn’t, but it was the most intense orgasm he’d had with me up until that point of our relationship. I had no idea there would be many more like it, as Paul went on to ask about my sexual history.

“I never knew you lost your virginity like that,” he sighed, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Did he fuck you again?”

“Forget about it, we’re on our honeymoon,” I reminded him, cuddling into his body.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled, putting an arm around me.

“We did it again that night, but he went back to the Marines, and I didn’t see or hear from him again.”

“I should have asked you about your first time sooner, that was hot.”

“I can’t believe it turned you on so much,” I blushed, squeezing him.

“It turns me on more than I could ever explain,” he chuckled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I sat up laughing in shock and with curiosity.

“The thought of you being desired and wanted by other men, even during our honeymoon… but knowing your loyalty belongs to me, as mine does to you, it seriously turns me on,” my husband unashamedly confessed.

“Really?” I laughed again, blushing. I kind of had an inkling, but to hear him say it in the way he did sent tingles down my spine.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, chuckling with a slightly reddened face. “When I asked you yesterday, about going topless… do you remember how embarrassed you were? Why? I could see you wanted to do it. I’d love you to do something like that.”

“Because we just got married,” I gasped, becoming aroused again, this time at the thought of going topless on my honeymoon.

I did it way back when I was eighteen, on a Spanish beach, but my then boyfriend didn’t find out. I was simply exploring my secret exhibitionist desires. I hadn’t told anyone about it, not Paul or even my best friend.

“I married you because I love you, and I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it. (So far he has lived up to that promise.) I don’t want you to cheat on me or sleep with other men. (But that turned out to be a lie). “If, however, you want to flaunt and flirt, feel sexy when your out with your friends, even get your big tits out on the beach,” he slipped in with a chuckle. “Then do it.”

“Um… are you giving me permission to do it or are you asking me to do it?” I giggled, amusingly perplexed by the entire evening.

“Both,” he smiled confidently.

I thought with a smile of my own for a moment. “Ok, I might just surprise you on the beach tomorrow…”