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Last night, I walked in on my husband, David, hunched over his laptop like he was hiding something. I asked him what he was doing, and he got defensive as hell. My suspicion kicked in, so I pushed him, and eventually, he showed me what was on his screen—cuckold forums. At first, I was like, 'What the actual fuck?'

Turns out, he'd been fantasizing about me with another guy. I was stunned. He said it started as curiosity, but now he couldn't stop thinking about it. He wanted to watch me with someone else, and the idea of it had him hooked.

I wasn’t sure how to react, but damn, something about his honesty… and the way he looked at me while explaining it? It was like seeing a whole new side of him. I was hesitant, confused, but part of me was intrigued. So, we kept talking, going deeper into his fantasy. And here’s where things get really crazy.

I cross my arms, feeling my patience wane. "Try me."

His shoulders slump, and he hesitates before opening the laptop again. He types something quickly, then turns the screen toward me. My eyes widen as I see what he's been browsing—forums about cuckolding, about husbands who want to watch their wives with other men. The words jump off the page, making my heart race.

"David... why are you looking at this?"

He averts his gaze, guilt written all over his face. "I don't know. It just... it started as curiosity. But now..."

"Now what?" I press, my voice trembling slightly.

"Now I can't stop thinking about it," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to see you with someone else. I want to watch."

The room feels like it's closing in on me. My mind races, trying to process what he's saying. "But why? How could you even think that would be okay?"

"I don't know," he says, frustration creeping into his voice. "It's just a fantasy. A dark one, I guess. But the more I read, the more I want to explore it. With you."

I shake my head, feeling a mix of confusion and anger. "This is insane, David. We can't just... do that."

"I know," he says quickly, reaching out to take my hand. "I know it's crazy. But I need you to understand. I need you to help me figure this out."

I pull my hand away, taking a step back. "I don't know if I can."

His face falls, and he looks like he wants to say something more, but instead, he just nods. "Okay. I get it. I'm sorry I brought it up."

We sit in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging heavy between us. Finally, I speak, my voice softer than before. "Can we just... talk about it? Maybe there's a way to figure this out together."

He looks up, surprise and hope lighting up his eyes. "Really? You mean it?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know, David. But I love you, and I don't want this to tear us apart. So, yeah, let's talk."

Over the next few weeks, we do just that. We talk late into the night, exploring the boundaries of our relationship, testing the waters of his fantasy. It's uncomfortable, awkward, and sometimes downright painful. But slowly, I begin to see things from his perspective—the thrill, the submission, the desire to see me fulfilled in ways he can't give me alone.

And somewhere along the line, I start to feel a strange shift inside me. It starts small—a flicker of excitement when he describes how he envisions it playing out, the heat in his eyes as he tells me about the scenarios he's imagined. But it grows, building until I can't ignore it anymore.

One night, after another long conversation, I find myself standing in front of him, my heart pounding. "David," I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. "I think... I think I might be ready to try it."

His eyes widen, and he reaches out to grasp my hands. "Are you serious?"

I nod, my chest tight with anticipation and fear. "Yeah. But only if you're absolutely sure this is what you want. And only if we set clear boundaries. No going back, David. This changes everything."

He pulls me close, his breath hot against my ear. "I promise. I'll make sure you never regret this."

And so, we begin. It starts with small steps—me flirting with someone casually, David watching from a distance, his fists clenched with a mix of jealousy and arousal. But it quickly escalates, fueled by the forbidden nature of it all. Before long, I'm meeting men behind his back, pushing the boundaries of our agreement, seeking out new ways to fulfill his fantasy—and mine.

The first time it happens, I feel a rush like nothing I've ever experienced. I'm in a hotel room with a man I barely know, David hidden in the shadows, his presence a silent, throbbing pulse in the air. I strip down, feeling powerful, liberated, as the stranger's eyes rake over my body.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he says, his voice rough with desire.

I smile, feeling David's gaze burn into me from across the room. "Show me," I say softly, my voice dripping with invitation.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He moves toward me, his hands steady as they cup my breasts, thumbs flicking over my nipples. I gasp, the sensation electric, and I hear David's sharp intake of breath from the corner.

"Take her, man," David whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Show her how good it can feel."

The stranger pulls me closer, his lips finding mine in a bruising kiss. I melt against him, the heat between us searing, and I feel David's eyes on us, hungry, desperate.

"Wait," I breathe, pulling back, my chest heaving. "David... come here."

He hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Sarah, are you sure?"

I nod, my heart pounding. "Yes. Now."

He steps forward, his movements slow, reverent, as he joins us. The stranger watches, his expression unreadable, as David kneels before me, his hands trembling as he begins to undress.

"Touch me," I command, my voice firm, demanding. "Both of you."

They obey, their hands converging on my body, one setting a rhythm of soft caresses, the other rougher, more insistent. I arch into their touch, the sensation overwhelming, thrilling.

"Fuck, Sarah," the stranger mutters, his breath hot against my neck. "She wants it deep, man. Show her."

David's eyes darken, and he nods, his hands moving with purpose. He positions himself behind me, his cock hard and ready, while the stranger lines himself up in front. I brace myself, my muscles tightening in anticipation.

"Now," I whisper, and they thrust into me simultaneously, filling me in ways I never thought possible. I cry out, the pleasure and pain blending into a dizzying cocktail, and I clench around them, my body greedy for more.

"God, yes," I moan, my hips bucking against their thrusts. "Give it to me. All of it."

They move in tandem, their bodies working together to drive me to the brink. I feel every stroke, every inch of their flesh sliding against mine, and I lose myself in the sensation, my mind blank except for the relentless pressure building inside me.

"I'm coming," I gasp, my body tensing as the orgasm rips through me. "Oh, God, yes!"

They follow, their cries mingling with mine as they spill into me, their release adding another layer of intensity to my own. I collapse onto the bed, panting, drained, as they pull out and stand over me.

"Clean her up," David orders, his voice hoarse with satisfaction. "Make sure she knows she's loved."

The stranger obeys, his fingers gentle as they move to clean me, wiping away the evidence of our passion. I watch them, my heart still racing, as they tend to me, their care a testament to the trust we've built.

"Thank you," I whisper, my eyes drifting shut as I drift into a blissful sleep, the aftermath of our shared experience still humming through my veins.