I've been reading through the stories here for a while now, and I've decided I want to tell my favorite. I get the feeling that a lot of posts here are mostly fantasy. There is nothing wrong with that, of course. The one you are about to read, however, is true in every part. It's a bit long winded to get to the really good part. The end is, I'm sure, what you all want.

Like most of you, we started by talking about other men gradually in bed. First it was make believe, that evolved to talking about ex-boyfriends, then real fantasies. We started to text about it during the day, and finally the act itself. I'll never forget the first time another man entered my wife. It took over a year, but we got there. It was glorious the whole way. After a while, she really settled into her own and began taking things into her own hands. I was elated. I could not be happier.

Her and I love to go out and sing karaoke. We're both not half bad and I'd be lying if I said she didn't LOVE the attention she got. Me too, honestly. One night, she says that she wants to drive separately. I don't really think much of it and I wait while she takes forever getting ready. Naturally, I follow her out of the driveway and I realize she's not headed to the place we usually go to. Instead, my texts go unanswered and I follow her for over half an hour until we pull into this packed parking lot. My phone goes off as we're finding a place to park. "Let me go in first. Sit somewhere else." That's it.

The bar is the only building in the lot. I watched someone hold the door for her as she walked in and I finished parking. I texted her and asked what was going on but after no response I went in myself. As I walked in, music and an off key singer overwhelmed me at the door. I spotted her at the end of the bar. She looked at me, shook her head no, and looked back at the bartender. I went to the opposite side of the bar and sat down, waiting for a bartender to take my order.

It took a while, but eventually, people started talking to her; especially after her song. The night went on. She sang, I sang, I texted, she ignored me. She started talking to this one guy and he actually sat down. He was a taller man, dark skinned, definitely in shape. After her next song, she took him out to the parking lot. Of course, I was called up to sing. After my song, I waited another 10 minutes before she came back in. He followed shortly after. They sat back together and were talking more. She never even glanced at me. Not once.

Later in the night, while I was in the bathroom, I felt my phone vibrate. It was her. "He knows. He's coming home." I had no idea what to think. Honestly, I couldn't believe it. This was the first time she had told me what she was doing. Usually, she asked. I had no say now, that much was clear. I don't know if it was her, the alcohol, or a combination of both.

Eventually, the bar closes down and I wait for her to leave. They both have looked over at me a hundred times by now. I get in my car, watch hers pull out, him follow, and I get in line. I really think this guy is going to just peel off and flake. By the time we get home, I have a pretty good idea what's going to happen. I want to be clear here, she's fucked other men before. In front of me, on top of me, you name it. But never like this.

I wait for them to go inside before I walk in the door. As I do, they're making out in the small foyer we have. "Sit down and don't move." She tells me. That's all she says before they go upstairs. I sat there in our living room. I sat there while I listened to the moans. Both of them seemed extra loud. The headboard slamming the wall. It seemed to go on for hours. Of course it wasn't hours, it was about 20 minutes. He walked past me without a word and left. She texted me to come up. The scene I walked into, her lying there on her back, spread eagle and a load dripping from her pussy, I couldn't handle it. I put myself inside her and got a thrust or two in before cumming. It was an amazing night.

I tell you all of that, to tell you this. Three weeks later she took a pregnancy test. Can you guess the results? It was positive. She refused to do anything about it and, honestly, so did I. Politics aside, it's one thing we agree on. But for nine months I suffered. We barely touched each other as her belly grew and I got myself off thinking of her baby not being mine.

In the end, it was. I write to you all to let you know that those nine months were the ultimate cuck. I don't think it will ever happen to me again. But in its moment, it was glory. The ultimate cuck.

I doubt this story will reach many of you. But for those that do read it, I hope you enjoy a little slice of my life. The cuckold lifestyle is intimidating at first, but what joy it can bring to those who are fully committed.